Abraham Lincoln’s Lyceum Address (closing paragraphs), rewritten for a middle school reader by ChatGPT (January 2024)

Another reason that used to be important, but isn't as much anymore, has played a big role in keeping our country's system going. I'm talking about how the exciting events of the revolution affected people's emotions more than their logical thinking. Back then, feelings like jealousy, envy, and greed, which are normal in times of peace and strength, were put aside because everyone was focused on fighting against the British. The bad parts of human nature were either kept quiet or used to fight for a good cause, like freedom and fairness.

But as time goes on, those intense feelings fade away. I'm not saying we'll forget about the revolution entirely, but its impact won't be as strong as it used to be. Back then, almost every grown man had some personal connection to the revolution – maybe they fought in it, or their family did. That meant the stories and experiences of the revolution were real and personal to everyone. But now, those people are gone, and their stories are fading away. We can't hear those firsthand accounts anymore. They were like a strong fortress protecting our freedom, but over time, they've crumbled away.

Now, it's up to us to keep our freedom strong. We can't rely on intense emotions like we used to. We need to use our minds – think logically, be moral, and respect our laws and constitution. If we do that, we'll honor the sacrifices of our founding heroes, like Washington. We need to build our freedom on a solid foundation of intelligence, morality, and respect for our laws. And if we do that, nothing can destroy it.

____________________________________________________________________________

Abraham Lincoln’s Lyceum Address, 1838, Springfield, IL (Closing Paragraphs, Original Version)

Another reason which once was; but which, to the same extent, is now no more, has done much in maintaining our institutions thus far. I mean the powerful influence which the interesting scenes of the revolution had upon the passions of the people as distinguished from their judgment. By this influence, the jealousy, envy, and avarice, incident to our nature, and so common to a state of peace, prosperity, and conscious strength, were, for the time, in a great measure smothered and rendered inactive; while the deep-rooted principles of hate, and the powerful motive of revenge, instead of being turned against each other, were directed exclusively against the British nation. And thus, from the force of circumstances, the basest principles of our nature, were either made to lie dormant, or to become the active agents in the advancement of the noblest cause--that of establishing and maintaining civil and religious liberty.

But this state of feeling must fade, is fading, has faded, with the circumstances that produced it.

I do not mean to say, that the scenes of the revolution are now or ever will be entirely forgotten; but that like every thing else, they must fade upon the memory of the world, and grow more and more dim by the lapse of time. In history, we hope, they will be read of, and recounted, so long as the bible shall be read;-- but even granting that they will, their influence cannot be what it heretofore has been. Even then, they cannot be so universally known, nor so vividly felt, as they were by the generation just gone to rest. At the close of that struggle, nearly every adult male had been a participator in some of its scenes. The consequence was, that of those scenes, in the form of a husband, a father, a son or brother, a living history was to be found in every family-- a history bearing the indubitable testimonies of its own authenticity, in the limbs mangled, in the scars of wounds received, in the midst of the very scenes related--a history, too, that could be read and understood alike by all, the wise and the ignorant, the learned and the unlearned.--But those histories are gone. They can be read no more forever. They were a fortress of strength; but, what invading foeman could never do, the silent artillery of time has done; the leveling of its walls. They are gone.--They were a forest of giant oaks; but the all-resistless hurricane has swept over them, and left only, here and there, a lonely trunk, despoiled of its verdure, shorn of its foliage; unshading and unshaded, to murmur in a few gentle breezes, and to combat with its mutilated limbs, a few more ruder storms, then to sink, and be no more.

They were the pillars of the temple of liberty; and now, that they have crumbled away, that temple must fall, unless we, their descendants, supply their places with other pillars, hewn from the solid quarry of sober reason. Passion has helped us; but can do so no more. It will in future be our enemy. Reason, cold, calculating, unimpassioned reason, must furnish all the materials for our future support and defence.--Let those materials be moulded into general intelligence, sound morality, and in particular, a reverence for the constitution and laws: and, that we improved to the last; that we remained free to the last; that we revered his name to the last; that, during his long sleep, we permitted no hostile foot to pass over or desecrate his resting place; shall be that which to learn the last trump shall awaken our WASHINGTON.

Upon these let the proud fabric of freedom rest, as the rock of its basis; and as truly as has been said of the only greater institution, "the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."