The attitude of the Whig judges was made a pretext to reorganize the judiciary by increasing their number, thus enabling the political complexion of that tribunal to represent the party in power. Early in the winter, however, the Supreme Court rendered a decision that affirmed the contention of Douglas and his party. Still, the advocates for reorganization were not stayed in their purpose, and they moved forward in what they termed a reformation of the judiciary.

This action of making the judiciary dependent on the Legislature was extremely pernicious in immediate results. It also started political impulses malignant and enduring, little appreciated by those who wantonly inaugurated the change. The participation of Douglas in this enterprise was effectively utilized by Lincoln in the debate of 1858. It is not surprising that Lincoln and other Whigs in the Legislature were unwilling witnesses of this degradation. They framed protests, declaring that the immutable principles of justice were to make way for party interests, and the bonds of social order were to be rent in twain, in order that a desperate faction might be sustained at the expense of the people; that the independence of the judiciary had been destroyed; that hereafter the courts would be independent of the people, and entirely dependent upon the Legislature; that rights of property and liberty of conscience could no longer be regarded as safe from the encroachments of unconstitutional legislation.[161]

This strong statement from the Whigs represented the conscience of the State. The protesting element is generally alert in awakening public sentiment or responding to it on the issues of the day, thus affording a wholesome check upon the dominant organization in making inroads upon righteous government. In this way, it becomes the selfish interest of at least one political party to be on the side of honest statesmanship.

At no time was Lincoln more active in legislative affairs than during the early part of the 1840-41 session. In the internal improvement system, bank discussions, the attack upon the Sangamon delegation and in almost every legislative proceeding he was ready to bear his share of the fight.

But during the session, an event occurred that shadowed his political career. Lincoln, the democrat, the man of humility, of common ancestry, was attracted to Mary Todd, a Southern aristocrat, a woman of beauty and ambition. Lamon finds the source of this in selfishness, saying: "Born in the humblest circumstances, uneducated, poor, acquainted with flatboats and groceries, but a stranger to the drawing-room, it was natural that he should seek in a matrimonial alliance those social advantages which he felt were necessary to his political advancement."[162]

This biographer overlooks the fact that it is not an uncommon event for a homely, humble man to be diverted from the common highway as Lincoln was. It is very hard to read in this story anything of designing selfishness. At one time severing his engagement to Miss Todd, the same despondency that crushed him upon the death of Ann Rutledge again became his master. His own words describe his condition: "I am now the most miserable man living. If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on the earth. Whether I shall ever be better, I cannot tell; I awfully forebode I shall not. To remain as I am is impossible; I must die or be better, it appears to me."[163]

He was absent from the Legislature for nearly three weeks. A visit to his friend Speed in Kentucky recalled him to his better nature.[164] The injustice he had done Miss Todd rankled until a reconciliation followed. Out of this there arose events that culminated in a duel. Though this event was soon hushed, yet its echoes lingered, for he said in 1858, "If all the good things I have done are remembered as long and as well as my scrape with Shields, it is plain I shall not soon be forgotten."[165]

The panic of 1837 and the disintegration of the internal improvement system were holding their requiem over the finances of the State. Money was a furtive visitor. The currency of the State banks, fairly worthless, was nearly the only circulating medium. During the summer of 1841, the Administration invalidated the use of State Bank notes for the payment of taxes but the salary of lawmakers was still payable in currency. The Whigs hastened to charge the state officers with adding to the burdens of the people that they might be assured of their salaries. The Auditor of the State was James Shields. Rather vain and aggressive, he was not inclined "to beware of an entrance into a quarrel."

It was at this time that Lincoln was having stolen conferences with Miss Todd. The restless spirit of the latter sought the political field for adventure. A daughter of leisure, she had no rival in sarcasm in Springfield. Hunting for material, she found a subject in the pretentious Auditor, and enjoyed worrying the sensitive official. Under such influences, Lincoln aided or sanctioned the composition of an article ridiculing Shields. Like many similar productions, it professed to come from a back-woods settlement, and affected a homely if not a vulgar form of speech. The paragraph that follows is a sample of the effusion:—

"I looked in at the window, and there was this same fellow Shields floatin' about on the air, without heft or earthly substance, just like a lock of cat-fur where cats have been fightin'.