Why Lincoln Laughed

In Short

This work is a personal reflection on the essential role humor played in the life and presidency of Abraham Lincoln. Framed through the author’s own memories of an intimate, wartime interview with the President, the narrative explores how Lincoln utilized anecdotes, the writings of humorist Artemus Ward, and his own sharp wit to manage the crushing psychological burdens of the Civil War. By examining the link between Lincoln’s deep melancholy and his capacity for joy, the book offers a unique, humanistic portrait of a leader who found spiritual grounding in the clean, simple laughter of his fellow man.

The Story

The narrative begins with the author’s recollection of his early impression of Lincoln, formed while attending a 1860 speech at Cooper Union. The future President appeared lanky, awkward, and profoundly out of place, struggling with a trembling manuscript and a stray pencil. Yet, years later, the author finds himself navigating the grim machinery of the Civil War to reach the White House, seeking mercy for a young soldier sentenced to be shot for corresponding with the enemy.

Once in the capital, the author navigates a crowded anteroom of office-seekers to gain a private audience with the President. Far from the distant, statue-like figure of history, he encounters a man worn thin by grief and exhaustion. Lincoln, however, immediately disarms the young visitor. The President promises that no boy under twenty will be executed under his watch, and then, inexplicably, he detains the author for a long, rambling conversation. This meeting, which ignores the impatient line of politicians outside, serves as the heart of the book. Lincoln talks not of war strategy, but of his memories of farm life in Illinois, his son Tad, his reflections on education, and his deep affection for the writings of the humorist Artemus Ward.

The narrative shifts to examine why Lincoln valued laughter so highly. The author argues that Lincoln used humor as a form of "mental discipline," a way to sharpen his mind and force himself to think quickly under pressure. He recounts how Lincoln read Ward’s bizarre, misspelled stories aloud, not as a distraction, but as a way to find clarity. Lincoln’s humor, the author observes, was never meant to ridicule or demean; it was clean, like spring water, and served as a crucial defense against the "heart-crushing" reality of his office.

As the interview progresses, the President’s mood darkens when he speaks of the suffering of parents who have lost their sons in the war. The author observes that Lincoln’s humor was inextricably linked to his capacity for sorrow, a duality that defined his spirit. The account concludes with a reflection on the aftermath of Lincoln’s death, noting the immense, inconsolable grief that swept the nation. In the final estimation, the author posits that Lincoln’s ability to remain human, to laugh with the common man, and to eventually offer a message of "malice toward none" in his second inaugural address, stemmed from this same profound, sorrow-tested internal life.

How It Unfolds

The initial encounter The author recalls seeing Lincoln at Cooper Union, where the speaker’s nervousness and awkwardness initially caused the audience to smirk. This early image sets the stage for the contrast between Lincoln’s external appearance and his inner strength.

The desperate mission The author travels to Washington to plead for the life of a soldier sentenced to death. This journey highlights the grim, life-or-death pressures Lincoln faced daily in the White House.

The private interview In the Cabinet Room, the President sets aside state business to discuss farming, education, and the humor of Artemus Ward. Lincoln’s willingness to pause his duties reveals his need for human connection and a temporary escape from his burden.

The philosophy of wit The author analyzes why Lincoln cherished the work of Artemus Ward, identifying humor as an essential tool for training the mind. Lincoln is presented as a man who recognized that laughter and sorrow are two sides of the same coin.

The burden of leadership The narrative explores the President’s deep sadness, particularly regarding his son Tad and the loss of soldiers. This section grounds Lincoln’s wit in the reality of his emotional suffering.

The final legacy The book closes by reflecting on the national mourning for Lincoln and the enduring power of his words. It emphasizes that his greatness lay in his ability to maintain a charitable, human spirit despite the violence of his time.

The People

Abraham Lincoln is the central figure, portrayed as a man of deep, instinctive empathy and profound sadness. He is a leader who constantly fights off despair, using his love for clean humor and innocent companionship—particularly with his young son, Tad—to remain grounded. He seeks not political gain from his friendships, but a brief, necessary respite from the "heart-crushing" weight of the presidency.

The Author acts as a reflective observer and pilgrim. A former schoolteacher and soldier, he arrives at the White House with a singular, urgent purpose but finds himself drawn into a deeper, philosophical engagement with the man behind the desk. His perspective is one of reverence, and he acts as the bridge between the reader and the intimate, quiet side of the wartime President.

Artemus Ward is the famous humorist and writer whose work Lincoln keeps close. Though he never appears in the present-time narrative, he serves as the intellectual touchstone for the President. Through his "absurd" and "clean" stories, Ward provides the mental stimulation and laughter that Lincoln relies upon to maintain his perspective.

Tad Lincoln, the President’s young son, represents the innocence and personal vulnerability that Lincoln struggles to protect. His presence in the Cabinet Room serves as a reminder of the President's private life and provides a point of contrast to the cold, political demands of the war.

In Its Own Voice

"No man ought to wish to be President of the United States!"

The President says this to the author while holding his head in his hands, reflecting on the heavy toll that the loss of soldiers' lives has taken on his own heart.

"I don't know how I came by the name of a storyteller; it is not a fame I would seek; but I have tried to use as many as I could find that were good so as to cheer up people in this hard world."

Lincoln explains his motivation for using humor to the author during their private conversation, distinguishing his intent from the mere performance of a jokester.

What It's Really About

The book explores the interplay between sorrow and joy, arguing that a person’s capacity for humor is often a direct result of their familiarity with deep, personal tragedy. It posits that Lincoln’s wit was not a frivolous distraction but a deliberate, intellectual survival mechanism that allowed him to maintain his sanity and perspective in the midst of a catastrophic war. The core argument is that Lincoln’s "uncouth" appearance and lack of traditional polish were secondary to his spiritual and emotional depth. By valuing humor that was clean, wise, and kind, Lincoln was able to remain connected to the common humanity of the people he led, ultimately using that connection to guide the nation toward peace.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate intimate, character-driven history will find this volume deeply rewarding. It strips away the mythic, marble-statue version of Lincoln to reveal a man who was frequently exhausted, occasionally deeply depressed, and fundamentally human. The prose is warm and conversational, reflecting the style of a storyteller from the early twentieth century.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the specific constraints of its era. The book reflects the attitudes and narrative conventions of 1922, and it includes extensive passages of dialect in the quoted excerpts from Artemus Ward, which can be challenging to parse at first. Additionally, the author’s tendency to view the world through a deeply personal, occasionally romanticized lens means the book functions more as an interpretive memoir than a strict, objective biography. It is best enjoyed by someone looking to understand the psychological interior of a leader—a person who looked at a world torn apart by violence and chose to respond with both a heavy heart and a persistent, quiet humor. What stays with the reader is not the political history, but the image of a man holding his son while fighting to keep his own spirit buoyant in the face of impossible sorrow.