by others an old man, is proved by that fact alone to be one of
wearing hardships and early decay of the vital powers. The survivors
of the pioneers stoutly insist upon the contrary view. "It was a
glorious life," says one old patriarch; "men would fight for the love
of it, and then shake hands and be friends; there is nothing like it
now." Another says, "I never enjoy my breakfast now as I used to, when
I got up and ran down a deer before I could have anything to eat." But
they see the past through a rosy mist of memory, transfigured by the
eternal magic of youth. The sober fact is that the life was a hard
one, with few rational pleasures, few wholesome appliances. The strong
ones lived, and some even attained great length of years; but to the
many age came early and was full of infirmity and pain. If we could go
back to what our fore-fathers endured in clearing the Western
wilderness, we could then better appreciate our obligations to them.
It is detracting from the honor which is their due to say that their
lives had much of happiness or comfort, or were in any respect
preferable to our own.




CHAPTER IV

NEW SALEM


During the latter part of "the winter of the deep snow," Lincoln
became acquainted with one Denton Offutt, an adventurous and
discursive sort of merchant, with more irons in the fire than he could
well manage. He wanted to take a flat-boat and cargo to New Orleans,