Concurrent Resolution on the Budget, Fiscal Year 2016

Floor Speech

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Mr. COTTON. Mr. President, today we honor the 150th anniversary of
Abraham Lincoln's death. We all know the tragic story: On the evening
of April 14, 1865, the 4-year anniversary of the beginning of the Civil
War and just days after its end at Appomattox, President Lincoln was
shot while attending the theater. The next morning, his last, labored
breathing ceased.

His fanatically unreconciled assassin was enraged by Lincoln's
achievements: his saving of the Union; his emancipation of the slaves;
his forecast that the freed slaves would soon be voting; his
rededication of the Nation to the Declaration and to the Constitution
in which it is embodied. Lincoln lived for these things, and he also
died for them.

Days earlier Lincoln's assassin, in attendance at the second
inaugural, had ignored the reelected President's eloquent plea ``to
finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds,'' doing so
``with malice toward none, with charity for all.''

A year-and-a-half earlier, dedicating the cemetery at Gettysburg,
Lincoln had said that ``history would little note nor long remember''
what he said. Here he was wrong--or at least falsely modest--for the
Gettysburg Address is among the most beautiful and memorable speeches
in history. He called upon us to ``be here dedicated to the great task
remaining before us,'' and ``that government of the people, by the
people, and for the people shall not perish from the earth.''

His words call upon us still to take ``increased devotion'' from
those at Gettysburg and every war since who gave ``the last full
measure of devotion.'' Soon he would be among those honored dead, the
final and most poignant casualty in the same war, and his death is
another reason for us to renew our devotion to our great country.

We should think, then, about Lincoln's message, which is like the
message of our Nation. On the question of equality, Lincoln was as
precise as a mathematician and as lyrical as a poet.

Of equality and slavery, he said:

As I would not be a slave, so I would not be a master. This
expresses my idea of democracy. Whatever differs from this,
to the extent of the difference, is no democracy.

Of equality and the Declaration, Lincoln said:

I think the authors of that notable instrument intended to
include all men, but they did not intend to declare all men
equal in all respects. They did not mean to say that we are
all equal in color, size, intellect, moral developments, or
social capacity. They defined with tolerable distinctness, in
what respects they did consider all men created equal--equal
in ``certain inalienable rights, among which are life,
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.'' This they said, and
this they meant.

Now put these propositions together. We are unequal in most respects,
but we are equal in our rights. We own ourselves, and no one else may own
us. We own the government, and the government does not own us. We are
entitled to our lives with the talents that God gave us. Any form of
government that interferes with these rights is wrong.

But in the world today are rogue nations that are growing in strength
and violate these principles. They constitute a menace to our freedom
and to civilization itself.

At home, our government grows ever greater in its size, in its reach,
and in its expense. The law is flouted increasingly by high authority.
And our people say with increasing intensity that they mistrust and
even fear their government. It may be for the people, but it is less
and less ``of and by'' the people.

On this 150th anniversary of Lincoln's death, let us be here reminded
and dedicated to that cause for which Lincoln himself gave the last
full measure of devotion. Let us dedicate ourselves, in Lincoln's
words, ``to finish the work we are in,'' so that we ``may achieve and
cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all
nations.''

Mr. President, I yield the floor.

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