STUDIES IN
AMERICAN HISTORY

Beaumarchais, and the War of American Independence. Two volumes. Illustrated. By Elizabeth S. Kite.

The Political History of the Public Lands, from 1840 To 1862. From Pre-emption to Homestead. By George M. Stephenson.

Georgia as a Proprietary Province—The Execution of a Trust. By James Ross McCain.

Lincoln, the Politician. By T. Aaron Levy.

The Agricultural Papers of George Washington. Edited by Walter Edwin Brooke, Ph.B.

RICHARD G. BADGER, PUBLISHER, BOSTON


LINCOLN
THE POLITICIAN

BY

T. AARON LEVY

BOSTON
RICHARD G. BADGER
THE GORHAM PRESS


Copyright, 1918, by Richard G. Badger
All Rights Reserved
Made in the United States of America
The Gorham Press, Boston. U.S.A.


PREFACE

Love of kind alone transcended Lincoln's political ambition. His career as President, Statesman, Emancipator is a mystery unless his preparation for leadership is demonstrated. He was no product of sudden elevation, no creature of opportunity. No American Statesman was better equipped to meet a national emergency. Lincoln the plain politician, the Illinois legislator, the congressman, and the prairie debater, was a child of the grocery store, of the pioneer gathering, of caucus and convention. It was this political training that determined the mode in which he breathed life into the momentous proclamation of the nineteenth century. The world that admires his charity is in equal need of his policy.

Until the coming of the industrial movement following the Civil War, the Commonwealth commanded the best heart and intelligence of the Republic. Captains of industry had not usurped the places of power. A degraded conception of devotion to the general welfare is in itself a sign of degeneration. A corrupt political system is incompatible with a healthy national existence. When individual aggrandizement is often preferred to the common good, when private institutions frequently allure the genius of a people, it is an inspiration to return to a politician who in simplicity and sincerity believed that civil service and patriotism are better than gold. An abounding demand of the day is a practical political philosophy.

In spite of golden vision, of saintly Grail, civilization still questions its real progress, and the sphynx of human suffering baffles understanding. Life has ever been a ceaseless compromise between spirit and matter, dream and reality, shadow and substance. In the never ending conflict between the hosts of darkness and of light, of radicalism and of conservatism, the battle often has been won by the use of superior strategy. Wasted energy, a lack of well directed idealism and indifference to the laws of human progress are the main obstacles to human advancement. There is an ever present need of a fine sense of proportion between vision and reality. The reformer needs more method, while the practical representative needs more vision. The solution of vexing governmental problems will be hastened by a clearer and more general comprehension of the gigantic difficulties that stand in the way of the domination of ideas over matter. High political success comes from a profound knowledge of the character of the hostility thwarting human progress. Patience as well as faith must be the guide. Society suffers from misdirected emotion on the one hand and from impervious apathy on the other. Sensational onslaught on evil has been often tested and its futility proved. Likewise the common politician has made many despair of democratic government. Abraham Lincoln represents the sanest example of wise political action, his political life the best platform for eternal warfare on organized evil.

The artist is measured not alone by his sleepless imagination but also by the technic through which his vision assumes external form. Dante skillfully gave voice to "ten silent centuries." Even so the dreams of prophet and humanitarian await the touch of the political artist to find immortality in visible manifestation. Neither a politician without a luminous idea nor a dreamer without political craft ever develops into a statesman. Democracy can solve its destiny only by an adequate appreciation of the importance of working out its intrinsic mission. The national ideal must become a reality. Dreamer and reformer are needed and likewise the politician, the man of method, the student of matter, the wielder of the tool. A heroic past will not save a nation. "The central idea" of a people cannot be safely relinquished, but must restlessly follow the law of practical evolution in each generation.

Abraham Lincoln was a child of American Democracy. He was trained in the college of republican institutions. The danger to Democracy is the treason of her own children. Lincoln stayed with his teachers—the plain people. He never longed for a place they could not give nor an honor they could not bestow. The aristocracy of externality, of clothes, fashion, wealth, station and descent ever remained shadows to him. He valued them at their real worth, with finer judgment than any man in modern history. The possibility of such a career is in itself a justification of republican government.

He walked the way of the average citizen, labored in the factory of political methods. Living in the common atmosphere, loving the strife of debate, near to the pioneer heart and mind, a student of popularity and party organization, he was from the beginning a champion of the better and broader humanity. He lived his democracy and led his people to a higher realization of the resistless purposes of the republic. Striking the better chords of their being, he led them to make a mere declaration of freedom the possession of a forgotten people. During his political pilgrimage he ever sought to widen in a practical way the Declaration of Independence. Many prate much of Democracy but Lincoln dared to make it the bread of humanity.

Abraham Lincoln used political machinery for the welfare of the people. He was ambitious and loved success but not for its own sake. Station gave him wider opportunity to practice his philosophy of life, his affection for his fellowmen, and sympathy for the downtrodden. He is a guide to the perplexed, to those who have not bartered their idealism in the stifling fight. His life is richly calculated to deepen faith in the ultimate triumph of righteousness, to lead to the conviction that spirit and method are not sundered of necessity, that the vision is not essentially a stranger to the party worker, that policy and compromise have their place in the domain of progress.

He looms up in American History as a politician who glorified his craft, who kept his hands clean in all of the sordidness of material success. Vicarious government in a republic is ruinous. Lincoln is therefore an inspiration for political consecration and the prophet of permanency. He dedicated his talent to the external manifestations of the destiny of the republic. His common sense, his practical sagacity and knowledge of human nature and of its limitations for progress, his prudent recognition of the labored advance of ethical sentiment and of the solidarity of vested interests, as well as his superb idealism and exalted spirit may well become food and life to those who believe in the better politics. As these become the property and the possession of a broader community the republic will know no fear, dissension will little disturb her serenity and she will be equal to every emergency that may threaten her integrity.

Beginning with the Lincoln-Douglas debates, Abraham Lincoln became and remained a national figure. From that time his life belongs to the history of the United States and has been dwelt upon with ever increasing fullness and eulogy. By contrast his early political life has been almost forgotten. This work covers that neglected period, dealing with Lincoln the politician, showing his development and his training for national leadership. The story is largely told in the words of Lincoln himself, stress being laid on crucial incidents hitherto, in the main, indifferently considered. A unity, dramatic in its simplicity, appears in his recital, giving glimpses of a man who was guided by a supreme political philosophy in seeking to externalize his gospel of the brotherhood of man in statute and decision. Considerable attention is devoted to Lincoln in Indiana and at New Salem, showing the peculiarity of his power, his political popularity, and the rapid maturity of his convictions as to the wisest methods of attacking entrenched evil. An earnest, reverent and impartial study of his political career is an enriching education. There is no need of hiding its humble, rude phases. The more his life is lingered over, the greater the wonder grows at the emerging of Lincoln from the humility and the poverty of his environment with a "message of range and sweep," to the sons of men the world over.


CONTENTS

CHAPTERPAGE
I.Lincoln in Kentucky[15]
II.Lincoln's Environment in Indiana[21]
III.The Political Hero of New Salem[39]
IV.Practical Legislator[58]
V.Protestor and Patriot[76]
VI.Partisan in State and National Affairs[87]
VII.Restless Political Ambition[109]
VIII.Lincoln Opposes the Inception of the Mexican War in Congress[121]
IX.Lincoln's Attack on Slavery in Congress[135]
X.The School of Solitude[152]
XI.An Emancipated Politician[162]
XII.The Pilot of the New Faith in Illinois[181]
XIII.Lincoln and the Dred Scott Decision[197]
XIV.Leader of the Republican Party in Illinois[201]
XV.The Dawn of National Leadership[207]
XVI.The Political Philosophy of Abraham Lincoln[213]
Bibliography[223]
Index[227]

LINCOLN THE POLITICIAN


CHAPTER I

LINCOLN IN KENTUCKY

The forefathers of Abraham Lincoln, like thousands of Western pioneers, were of a sturdy English lineage. His immediate ancestry, however, was less distinguished than that of many whose names are forgotten and whose influence on American history is imperceptible. Every effort to explain his career through an illustrious parentage has proved altogether futile.

Lincoln's grandfather belonged to that band of fearless adventurers in Kentucky, whose ideal was a lonely house in the middle of a vast farm, even though maintained in the presence of skulking redskins.[1] It was in this land that earned the title of "the Dark and Bloody Ground," that a common frontier tragedy made the grandmother of Lincoln a widow. For one day while her husband was in the fields, a short distance from the house, with their youngest son Thomas, a sudden shot from an Indian ambush broke the stillness of the woods and the father fell dead. The oldest son Mordecai looking out of the loop hole in the loft of the house saw an Indian raising his little brother from the ground. Aiming at a silver ornament on the breast of the redman, he brought him down. The boy ran to the cabin and the mother opened the door. She hastened to a more settled community where her son Thomas, the father of the President, grew to a shiftless manhood.[2]

The inhabitants of Kentucky were bred in the school of hardship. The battle with the forest and buffalo abated, but there remained the heroic fight with the soil. Splendid virile qualities were born in the strife with the Indians and the forest. Inventions were yet unknown and a living was drawn from the earth only through grinding labor. Yet frontier life rapidly gave way to the march of civilization, the trail and the path to the highway.

Hunters and warriors became tillers of the field. The merchant and manufacturer, the pioneer preacher, physician, lawyer and politician appeared with the onward tide of events.

The places of learning were few. Now and then a struggling teacher gave all that he had from his humble store to the young confidently entrusted to his care. Still something in the little log cabin school-house, even on unfrequented paths, developed character. Out of the battle with adverse conditions, with few advantages and manifold difficulties, came statesmen, and even scholars, men who laid the foundation of states, who guided the nation through its crises, and were equal to every emergency that endangered its vitality.

The law abiding character of the people was notably evinced by the supreme patience with which they effected their separation from the mother state, Virginia.[3] With wisdom they established courts of justice and the law of the land was speedily enforced. A malefactor who violated the statute against card playing, after imprisonment, turned his back on Kentucky, swearing "that it was the meanest country a white man ever got into."[4]

The pioneers of Kentucky had in a high degree the instinct of government, the passion for politics. Their sense of liberty was tempered by devotion to constitutional principles and reverence for the written law. The restless spirit of adventure was tamed by the potency of political responsibilities. At an early day, they displayed interest even in national problems. Their views were kindred to those of Virginia. Accustomed to restrain their own freedom, they did not favor the coercive measures of a distant, unknown, strong and centralized government.[5] The political policy of Washington was far from popular; that of Adams was odious.[6] The presidential contest between Adams and Jefferson agitated Kentucky. Discussions were frequent and widespread and even women participated. A pioneer boy was so elated over the triumph of Jefferson that, sitting in his chamber alone, he drank in cold water thirteen toasts in celebration of the triumphant event.[7]

It is probable that even in his infancy Lincoln listened at the fireside to many political controversies. In that case he heard doctrines advocated destructive of the national sovereignty, vitally hostile to those avowed and cherished by him in his public career. Traces of his early political surroundings on his vital convictions are hardly discernible. Lincoln became a national politician with little patience for the popular doctrine of State Sovereignty. He belonged to the Federal party by instinct. No American statesman was broader in his outlook of the general welfare. It is worthy of note that he passed his infancy in Kentucky; his boyhood and minority in Indiana, and a varied career in the State of Illinois. Not being the son of a single community or commonwealth, he did not look to any individual state with fullness of affection. He was a citizen of the Republic.

As early as 1790, an effort was made in Kentucky to promote the gradual abolition of slavery. The arrival of Clay strengthened this movement. Strong passions were aroused by the angry discussions that followed this futile endeavor. About 1810 the number of slaves increased perceptibly. The blighting effects of the institution soon began their revelation. Labor was deemed disgraceful and demeaning. The possession of slaves, not "high intellectual and moral endowments," became the test of social status. Almost everything was subordinate to the dominating institution.

Such, in general, was the state of society in Kentucky when Thomas Lincoln, in 1816, made his weary trail through tangled woodland to the wild forests of Spencer County, Indiana. He was one of the multitude discouraged with prospects in the Southern states. It was frequently the overbearing conduct of slaveholders, rather than hatred to slavery, that led the pioneer to leave the land of his nativity. Still it is amazing that the majority of these emigrants bore no resentment to the institution that provoked their removal, but became or remained vigorous advocates in maintaining its supremacy.[8]

Efforts have been made to account for Thomas Lincoln's movement by reason of his extreme hostility to slavery. Lamon indulges in a more prosaic explanation, stating that there were not more than fifty slaves in Hardin County; that it was practically a free community; that his more fortunate relatives in other parts of the State had no scruples to their ownership; that he was wanderer by nature gaining neither riches nor credit; and that a quarrel with a neighbor, whose nose he bit off, made him more anxious than ever to leave Kentucky.[9] Lincoln in his campaign biography remarks that this removal was partly on account of slavery, but chiefly on account of the difficulty in land titles in Kentucky.[10] Ida Tarbell even endeavors to make a sort of Abolitionist out of Thomas Lincoln. She quotes an old man, who claims that he was present at the wedding of Thomas Lincoln and Nancy Hanks, and that Tom Lincoln and Nancy and Sally Bush were steeped full of Jess Head's notions about the wrong of slavery and the rights of man, as explained by Thomas Jefferson and Thomas Paine.[11] If this were the fact, it is very strange that Thomas Lincoln never thereafter manifested any hatred of slavery during a long life. If Thomas Lincoln had been a zealous advocate of the rights of the black man, is it not stranger still that his son never even hinted at receiving the slightest impetus to anti-slavery opinions from his father? The long silence of Thomas, Abraham and Sally Bush Lincoln disproves the contention that Thomas Lincoln was a friend or champion of the enslaved, or that his views differed from the prevailing sentiment in regard to Abolitionism.

One incident looms up in the brief stay of Abraham in Kentucky. "I had been fishing one day," said Lincoln, "and caught a little fish which I was taking home. I met a soldier in the road, and having always been told at home that we must be good to the soldiers, I gave him my fish."[12] This story strikingly displays the influence of his mother. Events were few in his early life, and made a correspondingly abiding impression.

Lincoln was seven years old when he passed beyond the borders of Kentucky. There he received the rudiments of an education from two nomadic teachers. At the time of his departure, caste feeling was beginning to dominate society in Kentucky, but Lincoln never showed any of its manifestations. "He was," says Frederick Douglas, "the first great man that I talked with in the United States freely, who in no single instance reminded me of the difference between himself and myself of the difference of color, and I thought that all the more remarkable because he came from a state where there were black laws."[13]

No human mind would have selected Hardin County for the birthplace of the man who was to grapple with the most portentous problem in all American history. For the slavery question baffled the wisdom of the makers of the Constitution. It darkened the last hours of the stalwart statesmen, Webster, Clay and Calhoun. It tried and tested the endurance of this nation in a crisis of grave moment.


CHAPTER II

LINCOLN'S ENVIRONMENT IN INDIANA

The year that marked the advent of Indiana into national statehood, witnessed the humble and unheralded entrance of Thomas Lincoln and his family into Spencer County. The State was a haven for the pioneer of peaceable disposition. The danger of the Indian no longer haunted the land. Still life was a grim struggle, hewing the way through solid forests to reach the new home, cutting the trees to build the log cabin, patiently raising the first crop of corn. It took time to construct the trail and then the road. Yet with marvelous rapidity, these early settlers soon caused the church to appear, the schoolhouse and the hamlet.[14]

Party politics is largely the product of a settled community. When men are engrossed in establishing a home matters of national significance seem of little moment. The kitchen is more important to the log cabin than the parlor. So the most pressing problems of a pioneer settlement are those of local concern. Conventions and parties were unknown for some time. Any man could proclaim his candidacy for office. Voters were known as "Jones-men" or "Smith-men," after the candidate of their choice. The earliest manifestations of party spirit arose over the slavery question. Even under territorial government, delegates to Congress were called "Slavery" or "Anti-Slavery." During the canvass in which John Quincy Adams was selected as President, the Whig and Democratic parties were little recognized in Indiana. On election day, the workers shouted, "Here are Jackson tickets! Here are Clay!"[15] The defeat of Jackson hastened the growth of partisanship. With the introduction of party politics came resort to trickery in elections.[16]

Politics was a recreation to the early settler. When the newspaper was a luxury, when there were few forms of amusement, it was an indulgence as well as an educational influence to listen to the orator on the questions of the day. Politics was the school of the nation, and in it there were few truants.

The following incident illustrates a primitive political gathering. School was dismissed at the time of the militia election, and so the teacher took part in the festivities. A tin cup of whiskey was passed around twice, then a two gallon jug and bucket of water. A warm discussion arose about Indiana accepting the land donated by Congress for the construction of the Wabash and Erie Canals. Dr. Stone was most noisy against accepting. "Friends of the canal chose me," said the teacher, "to reply." "I was 'half seas over' from free and frequent use of the cup. I was puzzled to know what to do. Soon a fence rail was slipped into the worn fence near by and a wash tub turned up and placed upon it. Two or three seized hold of me and placed me on the eminence amid shouts of the friends of the canal. I could scarcely preserve my equilibrium. My lips refused utterance. After a long pause, I smote my breast with my hand, and said, 'I feel too full for utterance.' (I meant whiskey—they, full of indignation at the Dr.'s effrontery of opposition). The ruse worked like a charm. They shouted, 'Let him have it!' I raised my finger and pointed a moment steadily at the Doctor. They shouted, 'Hit him again.' I made my first speech twenty-five minutes. The Dr. talked again thirty minutes. I closed the debate and there was a viva voce vote in favor of the canal."[17]

As the early settler succeeded the hunter, agriculture became the main means of subsistence, but it could not become a source of profit without improved methods of transportation. The movement for internal improvements was to have a profound influence on the course of events in the West. The splendid enthusiasm that lately concerned itself with a hostile environment was now employed in competing for the markets of the East. The Westerner was not accustomed to wander in the realm of dreams, yet he grew romantic in contemplating the resources of his fertile soil, and believed the time would come when nations would pay tribute to his products. The completion of the Erie Canal marked a distinct epoch in this movement. It increased prices in some cases more than two hundred per cent. This advance called for better shipping facilities. As times became better, the people of the West became the missionaries of the internal improvement system.[18]

Nothing so vividly revealed this enthusiasm as the reception afforded Governor Clinton when he visited Ohio in 1825. He was hailed as a hero, as a friend, as a benefactor. A contemporary observer thus described the occasion:

"The grave and the gay, the man of gray hairs and the ruddy-faced youth, matrons and maidens, and even lisping children, joined to tell his worth, and on his virtues dwell, to hail his approach and to welcome his arrival. Every street, where he passed, was thronged with multitudes, and the windows were filled with the beautiful ladies of Ohio, waving their snowy white handkerchiefs, and casting flowers on the pavement where he was to pass on it." The Governor was deeply affected by such an unusual demonstration, and even shed tears in the presence of his worshippers.[19]

A vast system of internal improvements in Indiana was the fruition of a campaign of more than a decade. It was an unfailing argument of those seeking political preferment. The construction of roads and canals was urged as one of the fundamental purposes of human society. This policy was declared to be the highway from poverty to prosperity. It fairly became the political religion of the day. Indiana, in 1836, started with rejoicing on the path that was before long to involve it in disasters that led it close to the chasm of bankruptcy and repudiation.

Spencer County was in the southern part of the State, bordering on the Ohio River. The country was very rough and covered with forests, sparsely inhabited and poorly adapted for prosperous farming. There being no market for the products of the soil, the most primitive methods in agriculture were in operation. Wild turkeys and deer were had at the door of every man's cabin. Bears, wild-cats, even panthers, were still in evidence.

Thomas Lincoln, though he often changed his home, did not modify his character. He remained to the end a shiftless man of roving disposition without effectual ambition. A carpenter by trade, while other men built substantial homes in the wilderness, he was content to live in a primitive log cabin without windows, floor or furniture. It was only the influence of his second wife that secured those urgent improvements. A man of supreme physical strength, slow to anger, yet dangerous when once aroused, he was not without deep affection. Still he did not hesitate to knock his inquisitive son off the fence for answering travelers' questions. He was a master in the telling of stories. It was his chief accomplishment, the main gift that his son owed to him. The nature of his mind is somewhat shown by his rambling religious opinions. In Kentucky he was a Free Will Baptist; in Indiana he espoused the cause of Presbyterianism, and in Illinois he became a Campbellite. A relative quaintly observes that happiness was the end of life with him.[20] John Hanks, the uncle of Lincoln, was the most sturdy of his relatives; yet, this same Hanks was so illiterate that when Lincoln became President, he could not endow him with an Indian Agency.

The somberness of Lincoln's childhood was brightened by the memory of his mother. In intellect, she was far above those with whom she enacted the sad and short drama of her life. Even as a child in Kentucky he felt the spell and potent influence of her words. When she died, young as he was, he lived alone with his grief. The passing years hallowed the early impression of his sorrow, yet during all these years the memory of his mother was a mystic influence in his development; and so when he stood almost at the summit of his career, he declared, "All that I am, all that I hope to be, I owe to my angel mother."[21]

The greatness of Lincoln grows upon us when we contemplate the conditions from which he emerged, and consider the manner of men among whom he lived. Despite the efforts of many biographers to brighten his early surroundings, we have the highest evidence in his conduct and speech that he was nurtured in hopeless adversity; in poverty that was not alone incidental to pioneer conditions, but continued long after it was the common fate. He comprehensively described his environment in the statement that there was absolutely nothing in his associations to excite ambition for education.[22] There was little in his ancestry to quicken his pride. He ever maintained a peculiar reticence about his youthful days and his parentage. He may by constant thinking have exaggerated the distressing state of his childhood, but in the main there can be little addition to, or modification of, his reluctant testimony.[23]

He made his own way in the trail of letters. He pursued plans of educating himself infinitely better than those followed in schools and universities. He has left us priceless testimony of the manner of his intellectual development. "Among my earliest recollections," said Lincoln, "I remember how when a child, I used to get irritated when anybody talked to me in a way I could not understand. I do not think I ever got angry at anything else in my life; but that always disturbed my temper and has ever since. I can remember going to my little bedroom, after hearing the neighbors talk of an evening with my father, and spending no small part of the night walking up and down and trying to make out what was the exact meaning of some of their, to me, dark sayings. I could not sleep though I tried to, when I got on such a hunt for an idea until I had caught it; and when I thought I had got it, I was not satisfied until I had repeated it over and over again; until I had put it in language plain enough, as I thought, for any boy I knew to comprehend. This was a kind of passion with me, and it has stuck by me; for I am never easy now, when I am handling a thought, till I have bounded it north and south and bounded it east and west. But your question reminds me of a bit of education which I am bound in honor to mention. In the course of my law reading I constantly came upon the word demonstrate. I thought at first that I understood its meaning, but soon became satisfied that I did not. I said to myself, 'What do I mean when I demonstrate more than when I reason or prove?' I consulted Webster's Dictionary. That told of certain proof,—proof beyond the probability of a doubt, but I could form no sort of idea what proof it was. I thought a great many things were proved beyond the possibility of a doubt, without recourse to any such reasoning as I understood demonstration to be. I consulted all the dictionaries and books of reference I could find, but with no better results. You might as well have defined blue to a blind man. At last I said, 'Lincoln, you can never make a lawyer if you do not understand what demonstrate means;' and I left my situation in Springfield, went home to my father's house, and stayed there until I could give any proposition in the six books of Euclid at sight. I then found out what demonstrate meant, and went back to my law studies."[24]

Inadequate as his education may have been objectively, Lincoln was supremely trained in the college of lonely thought. No American of eminence owes less to the public school system. His entire career is a mystery unless full value is given to the statement of Herndon that "Lincoln read less and thought more than any other man of his time."[A]

His love of learning amounted to a passion. The time his companions squandered in recreation he largely employed in mental improvement. His literary education was a painful process and was gained without help. His plan was slow but effective. "He read every book he could lay his hands on; and, when he came across a passage that struck him, he would write it down on boards if he had no paper. Then he would rewrite it, look at it, repeat it. He had a copybook, a kind of scrap book, in which he put down all things, and thus preserved them."[25]

By this method he gradually evolved a style of supreme strength and sincerity. The Bible was the main force in its fruition. For a long time he dabbled in "crude rhymes" and "awkward imitations of scriptural lore." With all the gentleness of his nature, he was a master of satire, and slowly learned to use this dangerous gift with moderation. One of his early compositions was an impulsive effort to condemn cruelty to the helpless toad and turtle. More ambitious products followed. The reading of a newspaper article on temperance induced him to contribute something on that theme. A minister found it a place in a newspaper, to the ecstasy of the writer for the first time tasting the sweetness of publicity. This success led him to indulge in other dissertations. His political environment and his readings in American history germinated. With exultant spirit he proclaimed that "the American Government was the best form of government for an intelligent people; that it ought to be kept sound, and preserved forever; that general education should be fostered and carried all over the country; that the Constitution should be saved, the Union perpetuated, and the laws revered, respected, and enforced."[26] This effort met with instant approbation. A lawyer, to whose criticism it was soberly entrusted, declared, "The world can't beat it."[27]

Three books had a pervasive influence upon his political opinions, "The Revised Statutes of Indiana," Weems' "Life of Washington," and a "History of the United States."[28] Lincoln has left us indisputable evidence of the profound power of Revolutionary History in moulding his patriotic sentiments. For in his memorable speech in the Senate Chamber at Trenton, New Jersey, he said:

"May I be pardoned if, upon this occasion, I mention that away back in my childhood, the earliest days of my being able to read, I got hold of a small book, such a one as few of the younger members have ever seen, Weems' 'Life of Washington.' I remember all the accounts there given of the battlefields and struggles for the liberties of the country, and none fixed themselves upon my imagination so deeply as the struggle here at Trenton, New Jersey. The crossing of the river, the contest with the Hessians, the great hardships endured at that time, all fixed themselves on my memory, more than any single Revolutionary event; and you all know, for you have all been boys, how these early impressions last longer than any others. I recollect thinking then, boy even though I was, that there must have been something more than common that these men struggled for. I am exceedingly anxious that that thing—that something even more than national independence; that something that held out a great promise to all the people of the world to all time to come—I am exceedingly anxious that this Union, the Constitution, and the liberties of the people shall be perpetuated in accordance with the original idea for which that struggle was made, and I shall be most happy indeed if I shall be a humble instrument in the hands of the Almighty, and of this, his almost most chosen people, for perpetuating the object of that great struggle."[29]

The influence of Weems' "Life" is indicated by the fact that Lincoln did not lose his boyish enthusiasm for the character of Washington. He once exclaimed, "Let us believe as in the days of our youth that Washington was spotless; it makes human nature better to believe that one human being was perfect: that human perfection is possible."[30] This devotion is still more significant as Lincoln very rarely indulged in hero worship.

We shall not at all comprehend the political life of Abraham Lincoln unless we fairly understand the momentous subjective influence of these few volumes. One of them, the Revised Statutes of Indiana, contained the Declaration of Independence. He was scarcely more than eighteen years old when he brooded over the significance of that immortal utterance.[31]

His stepsister says, he was an indefatigable preacher. "When father and mother would go to church, Abe would take down the Bible, read a verse, give out a hymn, and we would sing. Abe was about fifteen years of age. He preached, and we would do the crying. Sometimes he would join in the chorus of tears. One day my brother, John Johnston, caught a land terrapin, brought it to the place where Abe was preaching, threw it against the tree and crushed the shell. It suffered much,—quivered all over. Abe then preached against cruelty to animals, contending that an ant's life was just as sweet to it as ours to us."[32]

Often mounting a real tree stump his quaint stories and impressive manner gathered all his fellow laborers. It is related that Lincoln's father and sometimes his employers, angered at the loss of labor, would drag the orator from his eminence. It was about this time that Lincoln said that his father taught him to work but never to love it.[33]

Lincoln's wit was no small part of his forensic eloquence. He was more ready at the beginning of his career than in after years to ridicule censorious conduct. So James Larkin found it, who was a great hand to brag. He stepped up before Abe, who was in the crowd, and boasted of his horse. "I have got the best horse in the country," he shouted to his young listener. "I ran him three miles in exactly three minutes, and he never fetched a long breath."

"I presume," said Abe, rather dryly, "that he fetched a good many short ones though."[34]

Lincoln further found opportunity for exercising his oratorical talent in the speaking exhibitions at Gentryville. Public debates were no minor attraction to the community. Discussions as to whether the Indian or negro had the greater right to find fault with his treatment were frequent and intense. The closing day of school was duly celebrated by declamations, debates and dialogues. Many selections for these occasions came from the Kentucky "Preceptor," rich in such utterance as Pitt's "Speech on the Slave Trade."[35]

Lincoln was present on one occasion at a dramatic murder trial in which John V. Brackenridge appeared for the defendant.[36] Lincoln heard the polished and eloquent advocate as in a dream. After the trial the humble backwood speaker freely praised the eloquence of the mature advocate. Brackenridge glancing at his awkward shabby admirer turned away without a word.

Lincoln learned that ability does not always go hand in hand with sympathy. He crawled into his own world where pride was to have no home, where humble appearances were not to be despised. When Lincoln as President met this same Brackenridge, he simply said, "If I could, as I then thought, have made as good a speech as that, my soul would have been satisfied; for it was up to that time the best speech I had ever heard."[37]

The people of Gentryville were largely of a rough hardy sort. Like other pioneers they were ready to escape the monotony of their life by engaging in exciting games. The rude joke, the vulgar gibe was prized. To laugh loud was somewhat of a luxury to the hard working settler. Refining influence was fairly unknown.

However, social distinctions gradually asserted themselves with the progress of prosperity. Parties of some pretensions came into vogue, and distinctions were made in the guests invited. Lincoln, who had been welcomed at the ruder gatherings, log rollings and similar entertainments, was not in favor with those seeking social prominence. Fond of popular applause, he resented this treatment, and in spite wrote satires and "chronicles," chastising the offenders.[38] These productions were coarse, vulgar and even indecent, spiced with no lack of wit. They appealed to many, though it is said that some were shocked.

On one occasion Lincoln placed certain reflections on the Grigsby family where they could be readily discovered. Being found, they brought on a fight for the family honor. Lincoln had his stepbrother, Johnston, first stand "the brunt" of the contest. A terrible fight ensued, and when Lincoln saw that Grigsby was too much for Johnston, he burst through the ring, caught Grigsby, and threw him off some feet away. Then swinging a bottle of liquor over his head swore that he was "the big buck of the lick." "If any one doubts it," he shouted, "he has only to come on and whet his horns." A general engagement resulted, but soon the field was cleared and the wounded retired amid the exultant shouts of the victors.[39]

From such an origin Lincoln came. Biographers seek to illumine its poverty in vain. He was reared amid a shiftless family. No external inducement guided him in his wearisome journey. He was in the daily presence of vulgarity. He alone of all his companions started in a titanic conflict with an enslaving environment.

The store was the social center of the pioneer town, the place to hear the latest gossip. There the neighbors met to pass judgment on events of general and local interest. The proprietor was often the only possessor of the weekly newspaper. It was not as in later days the abode of loungers mainly. It played a big part in the education of the frontier community. It was the school of many men and the home of wit and wisdom. Politics, religion and other problems were here subjected to the scrutiny of men blest with good sense and judgment.

The store drew the choice spirits in story telling, and its hero was the man who could best kindle laughter. In a community where this art was the highway to the general good will, Lincoln soon became the master among the many contestants for that distinction.

Wherever men congregated Lincoln sought supremacy. Political discussions were frequent. The newcomer soon tried his hand in the art of controversy. He gradually gained headway in the esteem of the soberminded for the clearness of his statements, for the keenness of his vision, and the honesty of his manner. Day by day he gathered strength and wisdom. It is improbable that any other young man so soon won the general good will or was so widely respected by all classes of men. In this, even as a youth, he was unique. He had the splendid tact, the inherent humanity that appealed to the various elements that constituted the transitional frontier when it was evolving into a higher community.

There is very little satisfactory evidence of the political opinions of Abraham Lincoln in Indiana. Lamon states that his family were all Jackson Democrats; that Lincoln's employer, Jones, the grocery keeper of Gentryville, was a Jackson Democrat, and that Lincoln read papers that championed the principles of the Democratic party of that day, and that he was in the beginning a follower of that eminent political sage.[40] There is no corroboration of this testimony that Lincoln was ever avowedly an attendant in the school of Jackson. Lincoln frequently refers to the fact with pride that he was an old time Whig, and it might be inferred from his speeches and statements that he was a devoted follower of Clay from the very first. However, Lincoln was somewhat an admirer of Andrew Jackson. It may be that early in life he passed through the several stages of political development, and was thus aided in becoming a tolerant politician.

From childhood until 1829, Lincoln lived in Gentryville. In that year he made a trip by boat to New Orleans with Allen Gentry. It was on this venture that Lincoln had his first vital meeting with the members of the race in whose destiny he was to be so deeply concerned. While their boat was moored near Baton Rouge and they were fast asleep, they were startled by footsteps on board. They knew "that it was a gang of negroes come to rob, and perhaps to murder them. Allen, thinking to frighten the intruders, cried out, 'Bring the guns, Lincoln; shoot them.' Abe came without a gun, but he fell among the negroes with a huge bludgeon, and belabored them most cruelly," but "received a scar which he carried with him to his grave."[41] It is strange that this incident did not jaundice the youthful Lincoln against the unfortunate people. Though his life was endangered by these wayward sons of Ethiopia, it did not affect his sympathy in any degree for the burdened and oppressed race, nor change his judgment as to the injustice of their treatment.

The origin of Lincoln's anti-slavery sentiments is somewhat of a mystery. That Stephen Douglas, reared in New England, should become the foremost champion of the Southern slavery policy, and that Abraham Lincoln, a son of Kentucky, that of the bondsman, baffles the wisdom of the historian.

Various efforts have been made to account for his views on the slavery issue. The claim that he derived them from his parents in Kentucky has been noted. Ida Tarbell enumerates the various abolition movements in the western domain that may have influenced him. In 1819, Charles Osborn published a paper advocating emancipation. A few years after Benjamin Lundy issued the Genius at Shelbyville. Scarcely one hundred miles from Gentryville the Abolition Intelligencer was started. There were abolition societies in Kentucky and Illinois. The same author states that "it is not impossible that as Frederick Douglas first realized his own condition in reading a school speaker, the 'Columbian Orator,' so Abraham Lincoln first felt the wrong of slavery in reading his 'Kentucky' or 'American Preceptor.'"[42]

Considering the slowness of communication, the casual appearances of even well-known journals, it is doubtful if Lincoln heard of the abolition movement to any serious extent. It is at least significant that Lincoln alone, of his entire family and of his associates, saw the magnitude of the slavery evil. Like his sympathy for the suffering animal world, his anti-slavery sentiments baffle explanation. He hated the infliction of wrong instinctively.

There is a duality to the life of Lincoln that should command more attention. Intellectually, he lived in a world of his own, a world in which he found little companionship. Still he was not altogether the fruition of a subjective life. He shared the common pioneer craving for human society. It may have been rendered even more intense in his case by the loneliness of his mental existence. Neither the forest, prairie nor storm, the sunset or constellation were his friends as men were. He loved his kind more than nature.

During his last years in Indiana he lived fully the life of the people around him. Their ideals seemed his ideals. Athletic superiority was the road to respect and honor, and Lincoln became the foremost man in physical games. He first won renown as a wrestler. Stories of his superior strength were heralded far and wide and his place was unchallenged. He was a leader in the rude crowd where might was the test of standing. Living among men devoted to hunting, he seldom indulged in that common recreation. In this his individuality asserted itself. He would not sanction suffering even in the animal world, and he seldom swerved from his convictions even in the day when the wolf howled at the cabin door.

The maturity of Lincoln's development at the time of his departure from Indiana has not received just consideration. Gaunt and awkward in appearance there was little in him to attract favorable attention. He was without trade or profession. Nothing appeared to distinguish him from the other members of the shiftless Lincoln and Hanks family. A stranger would hardly have chosen him as a future son of fortune, even from that humble crowd of wanderers. Uncouth in dress and manner, he would have found small favor in polite society, and among those who judge by things seen on the surface.

Viewed subjectively there is another Lincoln, a man of promise and inevitable distinction. Those who have dwelt extensively on the objective aspect of Lincoln have squandered sympathy on his want of education. For though poor in material things, he was rich in mental wealth, in the qualities that make manhood, in those virtues that survive the mutations of time, that future generations dwell on with ever increasing fondness. At the threshold of his majority he was already possessed of elemental ability and greatness. He was one of those rare souls that do not lose the golden ideals of youth with passing years. The sneers of selfish men never changed the primal sweetness of his nature.

The fourteen years that Lincoln lived in Indiana were years of splendid fruition. By his peculiar process of self-development his mind had attained a maturity far beyond his age. He mingled freely in the world of men and events. He was close to the human heart, to the sorrows of the humble, to the mute and deep emotions of the lonely dweller on the western farms. He loved the plain people. He had the command of style, the ease and pith of statement that schools rarely give. Ready of speech, he could command the attention of the rough as well as the sober minded. He was already renowned as a dispenser of laughter through the magic of his stories. But above all he was rarely gifted with good sense, with a mind not easily diverted by false lights, by the glitter of objectivity. He went irresistibly to the root of things. A man of fine emotions, wanting in the small social amenities, he seldom went astray in the domain of reality.

It is also essential to mark the practical character of all his learning. His knowledge was all useful and vitalizing. His mind was not cumbered with waste materials. His education was sound to the core, was all genuine, well calculated for a man in the very strife of life. Judged by the standard of schools and universities he was not an educated man, but judged by the broader standard of thought and action he was supremely educated, the best educated man of his time. He served his apprenticeship in the school of experience and only needed opportunity to be of royal service to his fellowmen. Honest, homely and humble, he was in harmony with the average man of his time, and was well fitted to become a representative of the people.


CHAPTER III

THE POLITICAL HERO OF NEW SALEM

The immediate occasion for the departure of Thomas Lincoln from Indiana was the visitation of the mysterious ailment widely known as the "milk sick." The scant progress made by the family in Spencer County strengthened his desire to try his fortune in a new land,—a land that in the distance held forth alluring promises of betterment.

They arrived in Illinois at the transitional period when the progressive settler was putting on the clothing of civilization. The concentration of population scattered the obstacles of progress. The wilderness was subdued, and the worth of the prairie land proved. The howl of the wolf ever growing fainter and fainter marked the hurrying advance of another dominion.[43] Shyly but steadily style showed itself in the home, food and dress. Through the surface it betokened the coming of a settled community; it was the unfailing external sign of prosperity and of fellowship with religion and education.

The old pioneer mourned the change. He saw the loom put away, and ribbons supplant the cotton frock. With saddened heart, he met the new civilization. To him, it was the doom of the old hospitality, of his freedom, the coonskin cap; the deer shoes; the log cabin built with his own hands. "Hog and hominy" no longer waited on hunger. What his child named progress did not compensate him for the flight of the companions of his youth. The pioneer had in the name of civilization cleared the land of the Indian, who could not adapt himself to its way, and now the victor was in turn to yield to the same unrelenting monarch.

John Hanks was the path finder for the little colony. He selected a place close to Decatur as a home for the wanderers. Lincoln took a hand in making the cabin which soon housed his father and family. But rather than engage in manual labor, he was alert to show his skill as a speaker. "After Abe got to Decatur," says John Hanks, "or rather to Macon (my county), a man by the name of Posey came into our neighborhood, and made a speech; it was a bad one, and I said Abe could beat it. I turned down a box or keg, and Abe made his speech. The other man was a candidate. Abe wasn't. Abe beat him to death, his subject being the navigation of the Sangamon River. The man, after the speech was through, took Abe aside, and asked him where he had learned so much, and how he did so well. Abe replied, stating his manner and method of reading, and what he had read. The man encouraged Lincoln to persevere."[44]

Lincoln fretted under the tutorage of his father, and longed for the hour of his legal freedom. When that period came, he promptly joined John Hanks in guiding a flat boat to New Orleans for one Denton Offutt.[45]

Perhaps the most critical incident in the life of Lincoln was this second visit to New Orleans. Hitherto, with a single exception, his life was simple and close to nature and the human heart. Young as he was, the solemnity of the forest, the expanse of the prairie, the nearness to the heart of things, the problems of life and their seriousness already cut their lines in his sensitive organism. Knowing little of the mercantile world, in the realm of thought he was already master of those around him. There was something of Hamlet in this gaunt youth.

The varied amusements of the southern city that fascinated his companions did not move or detain him. One sight alone riveted his attention. A mulatto girl was on sale. She was trotted up and down like an animal. Others saw the scene without flinching. It was nothing to them; no lash on their backs. According to Herndon, the whole thing was so revolting that Lincoln moved away from the scene with a deep feeling of hate, saying to his companions, "By God, boys, let's get away from this. If I ever get a chance to hit that thing (meaning slavery), I'll hit it hard."[46]

From that time Lincoln hated slavery with all his soul. The slave dynasty was an organized evil of national power. It dominated the actions and even the opinions of men; its whisper silenced the voice of conscience; its power dictated legislative policies, and was even known to intrude into the sanctuary of judicial tribunals. It was not a stranger in distinguished pulpits.

Lincoln was weak, helpless, unregarded. A blow from his hand would then fall impotent and unnoticed. Three courses of conduct confronted him. He might, with the majority have become an apologist of slavery, as this was the popular highway. Thus he might have gained the fame of Stephen A. Douglas, but he would not have saved the nation. He might have become an aggressive assailant of slavery. Such conduct would have made him a political outcast in New Salem. In this way, he might have won the renown of a Wendell Phillips but he would not have become the national helmsman. He was neither abolitionist nor apologist.

One other way was open. He knew his weakness. The day to strike a blow had not yet come. He held his anger and bided his hour. He would not rush, but await the time when a blow from his hand would long leave its traces on the evil. He turned back to his work and to his associates. Objectively, he was the same as ever, but a soul had been awakened to the crime of the ages that would not rest until the auction block should be shattered and the American soil rendered uneasy at the presence of the human auctioneer. He knew that sooner or later the occasion for action would rejoice his soul. This faith reconciled him to the sluggard march of events.

Some time in the summer of 1831, there drifted into the thriving village of New Salem one who was to add lustre to her name. Some days later Minter Graham, the school master, was "short of a clerk" at election. Asking a tall stranger if he could write, he was met with the quaint reply that he could make a few rabbit marks. "Lincoln," says the school man, "performed the duties with great facility, much fairness, and honesty and impartiality. This was the first public official act of his life."[47]

Lincoln first gained prestige in New Salem through his droll stories. It was the fast road to the good will of an audience. In those days when amusement was scant it was no mean gift. It was then a kind of legal tender for a dinner or similar hospitality, and in a pioneer community popular favor is a harbinger of high honor. Lincoln found little to do until he became the chief clerk of the presuming store of Denton Offutt. Here he rapidly won the regard of the listener and participated in many discussions; here he met and talked with the people, and he made another advance in the public esteem.

Like many pioneer communities New Salem was largely dominated by a rough crowd of young men, known there as the "Clary Grove Boys." They were typical of the class in Illinois that stubbornly yielded to the reign of the law. They rapidly disappeared in settled communities, but in the outlying towns, for a long time, they maintained their power. Usually acting in unison, they were much sought by those seeking political preferment. They attended church, heard the sermon, wept and prayed, shouted, got up and fought an hour, and then went back to prayer just as the spirit moved them.[48] Rude and even cruel to the traveler, they made mercy the companion of the orphan. They had no sympathy for weakness, or patience with culture. No stranger could attain standing in their affection unless he proved his worth in the gantlet of a physical contest with one of their leaders.

The enthusiasm of Offutt for Lincoln was boundless. He declared that, "Abe knew more than any man in the United States," that "he would some day be President of the United States." All this did not disturb the boys of Clary Grove, but when he bragged "that he could, at that present moment, outrun, whip or throw down any man in Sangamon County," then the pride of the gang was awakened. A bet of ten dollars was made that Jack Armstrong, their leader, "was a better man than Lincoln." The newcomer could not well avoid a combat. In the presence of a host of sympathizers of the Clary Grove leader, the fight began. Lincoln put forth his strength and the crowd saw Armstrong's supremacy endangered. In the heat of the fray, they forgot the rules of fair fighting and broke through the ring. This angered Lincoln, and with a giant's effort, he gathered their champion in his arms and shook him like a child. Lincoln's bearing won the regard of Armstrong. He grasped the hand of the victor, proclaiming in the presence of his followers that Lincoln was the best fellow that ever broke into the settlement.[49] A wonderful friendship resulted. "Whenever Lincoln worked Jack 'did his loafing'; and, when Lincoln was out of work, he spent days and weeks together at Jack's cabin, where Jack's jolly wife, 'old Hannah,' stuffed him with bread and honey, laughed at his ugliness, and loved him for his goodness."[50]

This was an eventful occasion in the life of Lincoln. The humble ask little of friendship and give much. A lover of the law, in a single hour he became the idol of the lawless element in New Salem. From that time, they submitted to his guidance. Respect for his strength grew into admiration for his learning. Slowly and surely, the latest addition to the gang tempered its harshness. As a member, he achieved what would have been impossible as a stranger. He loved their virtues, and was gentle with their vices. So it was that, though he did not drink or smoke with them, they did not think the less of him. Lincoln did not laud his freedom from failing, so they were patient as children with him, even in his chiding. The source of his influence was sympathy, and not ability; solidity of character, not brilliancy; the simple virtues, not genius.

Lincoln was dowered with supreme physical strength. Rumor claimed that he could lift a load of a thousand pounds. This renown brought him further influence with the rougher element. He was also skilled in manual labor. A settler relates that he was the best hand at husking corn on the stalk that he ever saw. He grew in the estimate of the farmers around New Salem, in a community where agriculture was almost the sole source of wealth and prosperity.

Lincoln's boyish enthusiasm for athletic events was doubtless somewhat calmed with passing years. As other interests dawned on him he was persuaded to concern himself with horse races and other games of chance more than his judgment advised. An admirer states, "I got Lincoln, who was at the race, to be a judge of the race, much against his will, and after hard persuasion. Lincoln decided correctly; and the other judge said 'Lincoln is the fairest man I ever had to deal with; if Lincoln is in this country when I die, I want him to be my administrator, for he is the only man I ever met with that was wholly and unselfishly honest.'"[51]

The steamer Talisman in 1832 made a trip to determine the navigability of the Sangamon. Lincoln was selected as helmsman from Beardstown to New Salem. The Talisman on the return trip "stuck" at the mill dam. Equal to the emergency, Lincoln "rigged up" an apparatus in the presence of the entire assembly of New Salem. All were sure that he had saved the steamer. The trip was of vast worth to Lincoln. Making several speeches and shaking hands with every one, in this one week, he learned to know more people than he would have otherwise met in many months.[52]

Lincoln was not only honest, but men trusted him. His personality pervaded the community. So a biographer states, "I once asked Rowan Herndon what induced him to make such liberal terms in dealing with Lincoln, whom he had known for so short a time." "I believed that he was thoroughly honest," was the reply, "and that impression was so strong in me that I accepted his note in payment of the whole. He had no money, but I would have advanced him still more if he had asked for it."[53]

Lincoln was not endowed with business skill. The only failure he ever made in life was as a merchant. He had no capacity for business. His partner claimed that Lincoln could wrap himself up in a great moral question; but that in dealing with the financial and commercial interests of a community or government he was as inadequate as he was managing the economy of his own household, and that in that respect alone he always regarded Mr. Lincoln as a weak man.[54]

Lincoln's fairness vied with his sympathy in giving him a peculiar influence over his fellowmen. He made peace a daily guest of the rude crowd. His method was novel in New Salem. A stranger, angered by the abuse of Jack Armstrong, struck him a blow that felled the giant. Lincoln made himself the judge of the event. "Well, Jack," said he, "what did you say to the man?" Whereupon Jack repeated the words. "Well, Jack," replied Abe, "if you were a stranger in a strange town, as this man is, and you were called a d——d liar, &c., what would you do?" "Whip him, by God!" "Then this man has done no more to you than you would have done to him." "Well, Abe," said the honest bruiser, "it's all right," and, taking his opponent by the hand, forgave him heartily, and "treated." Jack always "treated" his victim when he thought he had been too hard upon him.[55]

Esteemed for his strength he was loved for his kindness. None could resist the charm of his help to the poor and the lowly, to the waifs of misfortune. Ab, a barefooted fellow, was chopping wood on a wintry day to earn a dollar that he might buy a pair of shoes. Lincoln, seeing his plight, seized the axe, and soon the job was done. The story runs that "Ab remembered this act with the liveliest gratitude. Once he, being a cast-iron Democrat, determined to vote against his party and for Mr. Lincoln; but the friends, as he afterwards said with tears in his eyes, made him drunk, and he had voted against Abe."[56] Chandler, a poor settler, desiring to enter a small tract of land that was coveted by a rich neighbor, started for Springfield at the same time with his rival and on the same mission. On the way Chandler met Lincoln. Noticing that the horse of Chandler could not stand a forced march, Lincoln gave him his horse—fresh and full of grit. Between the two, a friendship sprang up which all the political discords of twenty-five years never shattered nor strained.[57]

He was active in the first debating organization of New Salem. Those who knew him for his strength were amazed at the logic of his statements. The president of this society said to his wife that there was more in Abe's head than wit and fun; that he was already a fine speaker; that he only lacked culture to enable him to reach the high destiny in store for him. Thereafter the president displayed a deeper interest in his progress. During one of the debates, Lincoln dashed into a controversy on slavery, dilating on its malignancy, deploring the dark and hopeless state of the poor white man. With discernment he placed his hand on the mischief, the creation of an aristocracy in a republic; the resulting conflict between the doctrine of the fathers and that of the children; between the North and the South. His discussion ranged over the consequences. He pictured the grapple of opposing principles; a land drenched with fraternal blood.[58] A biographer is justified in contending that he became as familiar for the goodness of his understanding as for the muscular power of his body, and the unfailing humor of his talk.[59]

With the arrival of spring in 1832, the Black Hawk War broke out. A company was organized in Sangamon County for immediate service. The first fruit of Lincoln's popularity with "the boys" was his decisive election as captain. His opponent was a man of means. The manner of election was democratic. Lincoln and his antagonist stood some distance apart, while the men showed their preference by taking their place near the man of their choice. The one with the most adherents was selected for leadership. Lincoln made a very modest speech to his comrades, expressing his gratification, and telling them how undeserved he thought it was and promised that he would do the best he could to prove himself worthy of their confidence.[60]

The captain needed the mastery of his temper to control the lawless spirit of the volunteers. Accustomed to be cajoled in politics, they were not ready for obedience even in the shadow of war. A story has been told that Capt. Lincoln's first command was answered by being told to "go to the devil."[61]

Lincoln was jealous of the welfare of his men. Thinking them maltreated, he told an officer of the regular army that they were volunteers under the regulations of Illinois, and that resistance would thereafter be made to unjust orders; that his men must be equal in all particulars, in rations, arms and camps, to the regular army. The officer saw that Lincoln was right, and thereafter they were treated like the regular army. This efficient service in behalf of the volunteers drew officers and rank to him.[62]

During the march a peaceable Indian strayed into camp and was at the mercy of the soldiers. This old man showed a letter from General Cass testifying to his fidelity; the enraged men pronounced it a forgery, and rushed upon him. The captain stepped between. "Men, this must not be done. He must not be shot and killed by us." The passion of the mob was stayed by this exhibition of courage, not allayed. One bolder than his fellows cried out, "This is cowardly on your part, Lincoln." The captain towered in lonely power. "If any man thinks I am a coward let him test it." A new voice was heard, "You are larger and heavier than we are." "This you can easily guard against. Choose your weapons." The word coward was never again coupled with his name. "He has often declared himself, that his life and character were both at stake, and would probably have been lost, had he not at that supremely critical moment forgotten the officer, and asserted the man. To have ordered the offenders under arrest would have created a formidable mutiny; to have tried and punished them would have been impossible. They could scarcely be called soldiers; they were merely armed citizens, with a nominal military organization. They were but recently enlisted, and their term of service was just about to expire. Had he preferred charges against them, and offered to submit their differences to a court of any sort, it would have been regarded as an act of personal pusillanimity, and his efficiency would have been gone forever."[63]

Lincoln and other volunteers arrived home just before the State election. That New Salem should present Lincoln as a candidate for the Legislature was the natural culmination of his position in the community. His friends were heart and soul in the cause. His record as a soldier increased the interest of his companions and his associates in the election.

Lincoln allied himself with the Whig organization and championed its principles. The popular party in Sangamon County prided themselves on their devotion to Andrew Jackson. They derisively called their opponents "Federalists," while the latter struggled "to shuffle off the odious name."[64] Lamon argues that Lincoln was a nominal Jackson man on the ground that he received the votes of all parties at New Salem, that he was the next year appointed postmaster by General Jackson; that the Democrats ran him for the Legislature two years later, and that he was elected by a larger majority than any other candidate.[65] These reasons are without weight. Party lines at the time were not yet closely drawn, and the supreme personal popularity of Lincoln suffered little from the partisanship of that period. It is a distinct mark of Lincoln's courage and his love of principle that he devoted himself to the weaker party of Illinois. Selfish ambition would have advised alliance with the dominant organization. Still, the better element in Sangamon County was largely attracted to the Whig side. Lincoln coming from the company of the Clary Grove boys, enthusiasts for Jackson, fearlessly decided his political relations. National history might have been changed if Abraham Lincoln had consulted his companions, or temporary interest in the selection of party affiliation.

After his return from the war, he threw himself into the campaign of 1832. In his first speech, just as he started, he saw that a friend was getting worsted in a fight near by. Hurrying from the platform, he grasped the offender and threw him some ten feet away. He then again mounted the eminence and delivered the following address: "Gentlemen and Fellow Citizens, I presume you all know who I am. I am humble Abraham Lincoln. I have been solicited by many friends to become a candidate for the Legislature. My politics are short and sweet, like the old woman's dance. I am in favor of a national bank. I am in favor of the internal improvement system and a high protective tariff. These are my sentiments and political principles. If elected, I shall be thankful; if not, it will be all the same."[66]

Making a speech under such conditions was a more thorough preparation for the activities of life than the training of schools and even universities afford its votaries. This talk is frank and bold. It early avows sentiments hostile to the administration in power. It reveals the "Whiggism" of the orator. It is a product of the times; a speech to be expected from a young speaker sensitive to his surroundings.

The testimony of Judge Logan shows that Lincoln had in his youth a mature mind. "He was a very tall, gawky, and rough looking fellow then; his pantaloons didn't meet his shoes by six inches. But after he began speaking I became very much interested in him. He made a very sensible speech. His manner was very much the same as in after life; that is, the same peculiar characteristics were apparent then, though of course in after years he evinced more knowledge and experience. But he had then the same novelty and the same peculiarity in presenting his ideas. He had the same individuality that he kept through all his life."[67]

A companion allows us a view of Lincoln as a politician at this period. Deferential to the rich, agreeable to the poor, he was at home everywhere. He talked with the husband and wife about their hopes in life, about the school and the farm. The mother would hear with joy of her fine children; Willie was the image of father; Sarah the most beautiful, and looked like her mother. The distribution of nuts and candy captured the children. During the preparation for supper, he would walk over the farm with his host, and be shown its worth. After the meal he would tell the boys and girls stories of the trials of frontier life in Indiana. He thus secured the esteem of all.

Early in this campaign, he issued a political circular. This first written address of Lincoln should command attention. It contains abundant evidence of close thinking, political sagacity and quaint utterance. This youthful appeal of Lincoln is a sober production expressing thoughts that go straight to the mind. The circular is conclusive that his style and his thought were not altogether the fruition of his maturity.

The address deals mainly with the navigability of the Sangamon River. No theme was closer to the people in the county. The arrival of the steamer Talisman had been hailed with rapture. A newspaper thus gave utterance to the common feeling: "We congratulate our farmers, our mechanics, our merchants and our professional men, for the rich harvest in prospect, and we cordially invite emigrating citizens from other states, whether rich or poor, if so they are industrious and honest, to come thither and partake of the good things of Sangamon."[68] The enthusiasm reached the women, for they indulged in a grand ball to honor the occasion.[69] The ardent championship of this vain proposal, for it was never either effected or seriously attempted, is proof that Lincoln was a student of popularity. At this period he proclaimed the doctrine that the representative of the people should reflect the known views of his constituency.[70]

He next paid heed to the problem of usury. Money, always seeking the highest bidder, preyed on the industry of the people. The common contract rate was about fifty per cent. In many instances it rose to more than one hundred, and unfortunates even paid two or three times as much.[71] "It seems," Lincoln said, "as though we are never to have an end to this baneful and corroding system, acting almost as prejudicial to the general interests of the community as a direct tax of several thousand dollars annually laid on each county for the benefit of a few individuals only, unless there be a law made fixing the limits of usury. A law for this purpose, I am of the opinion, may be made without materially injuring any class of people. In cases of extreme necessity, there could always be means found to cheat the law; while in other cases it would have its intended effect. I would favor the passage of a law on this subject which might not be easily evaded. Let it be such that the labor and difficulty of evading it could only be justified in cases of greatest necessity."[72] This rather remarkable admission is interesting in view of his subsequent utterances on the sacred enforcement of all laws lest single relaxations prove an inducement for other violation.[73]

A rather becoming modesty pervades the conclusion of his address. He maintained that he might be wrong in regard to any or all the subjects he discussed, declaring that it was better only sometimes to be right than at all times to be wrong, that he was ready to renounce his opinions as soon as he discovered them to be erroneous.[74]

"Every man," he observed, "is said to have his peculiar ambition. Whether it be true or not, I can say for one that I have no other so great as that of being truly esteemed of my fellow-men, by rendering myself worthy of their esteem."[75] This illumines our limited knowledge of his attitude toward an essential problem of life. Lincoln did not fling away ambition. With patient footstep he restlessly followed the vision of higher place along the road of helpful service to his fellow-men. As he rose in influence, he never forsook his early ideals; that the measure of success was worthiness and not station, that power was only respectable as it was mercifully exercised. He believed that altruistic responsibility expanded with growing opportunities. His good deeds, not his personal wants, grew with his growth.

He did not rest with an appeal to the reason of men. He deftly put in motion the human chord in democracy that vibrates to the poor and the struggling. He declared that he was young and unknown; that he was born, and would ever remain, in the most humble walks of life; that he had no wealthy or popular relations or friends to recommend him; that his case was thrown exclusively upon the independent voters of the county; and that, if elected, they would have conferred a favor upon him, for which he would be unremitting in his labors to compensate.[76]

"But, if the good people," he concluded, "in their wisdom shall see fit to keep me in the background, I have been too familiar with disappointments to be very much chagrined."[77] Suffused with seeming humor and the pathos of half hidden tragedy this averment brings us face to face with a life reluctantly asserting its individuality. It is hardly strange that one who pronounces himself a companion of many disappointments when only twenty-three years old should soon get the name of "Old Abe." Sorrow had already left its traces on his heart and brain, so that the appellation was fitting. Still, he encountered uncomplainingly the exigencies of human events.

"The Democrats of New Salem worked for Lincoln out of their personal regard for him. That was the general understanding of the matter here at the time. In this he made no concession of principle whatever. He was as stiff as a man could be in his Whig doctrines. They did this for him simply because he was popular—because he was Lincoln."[78] Despite the efforts of his friends in New Salem, Lincoln was yet too little known to be elected a representative of Sangamon County.

One fact stands out boldly. Out of the total 300 votes cast in the precinct of New Salem, where he was best known, Lincoln received 277.[79] This did not pass without the scrutiny of those who studied the details of local politics. It revealed an amazing popularity. It was a defeat that practiced politicians knew betokened future triumphs. It marked the trail of a triumphing career in the common course of events. With ardent pride, he later said of this defeat, that it was the only time he was ever beaten on a direct vote of the people.[80]

John Calhoun, a stalwart Democrat, a surveyor in Sangamon County, and later infamous in Kansas history, needed a deputy. He selected Lincoln, who thereupon retreated to a farm of the schoolmaster Graham, where he studied a book on surveying. Struggling with the task for six weeks, he came forth prepared for his new work. He so mastered the subject that he became renowned for the accuracy of his measurements. "If I can be perfectly free," Lincoln is reported to have said, "in my political action, I will take the office, but if my sentiments or even expression of them is to be abridged in any way I would not have it or any other office."[81] This story is rather heroic. The work was of a business character, and politics did not dictate every act of Calhoun; he was willing to help a worthy ambitious young man. On the other hand, the store of Lincoln had "winked out"; he had nothing to do; he was eager to enter into an honorable vocation without an inquisition into the motives of Calhoun. It was a friendly act without any suggestion of political obligation; a kindly service that cemented a friendship never severed, though they met as rivals on the field of controversy. Even in the days when it was common to blacken the name of Calhoun, Lincoln never joined in the general hue and cry.[82]

The acceptance of the office of postmaster at New Salem, under the administration of General Jackson, had no particular bearing upon the political views of Abraham Lincoln. The office was of so little monetary importance, that Lincoln carried its whole contents in his hat. He was the only man of standing in the community that could afford to give it abundant attention for the small pay. The office was doubtless freely tendered, the more freely as Lincoln was not of a partisan temperament. It was of value to him. It enabled him to be of service and thus gain the good will of many. He readily made known the contents of letters to the illiterate. He also read aloud to the inhabitants gathered at the store, all the news from the recent papers.[83]

"The first time I ever saw Abe with a law-book in his hand," says Squire Godbey, "he was sitting astride Jake Bale's wood pile in New Salem. Says I, 'Abe, what are you studying?'—'Law,' says Abe. 'Great God Almighty!' responded I."[84] Lincoln states in his campaign biography that one of his fellow candidates, Major John T. Stuart, in his first canvass encouraged him to study law, and that after election he borrowed books of Stuart and went at it in good earnest. He also states that he never studied with anybody.[85]

During his legal apprenticeship of three or four years, he was at the call of every citizen. He wrote deeds, contracts and other legal papers, and often appeared before the local Justice of the Peace. All this service was free. He was not forgotten by those he helped. Even when he moved to Springfield, his New Salem friends found that his counsel was ever at their disposal. His door was as open to poverty as to riches. His study of the law widened the exercise of his sympathy and his usefulness. Then, too, every satisfied client was likely to become a political supporter.

It would have been amazing if Lincoln had come short of being the hero of New Salem. He won "golden opinions" from every class of men. His popularity had a substantial basis. He rode into favor on the tide of service to his fellowmen. Wholesale dispenser of laughter and sympathy, clerk at a store of the village, athlete of renown, arbiter of fights and games, pilot on a memorable journey, a debater of singular skill, an orator commanding attention, a sincere student, a soldier of some distinction, popular postmaster, a skilled surveyor, and later a lawyer and legislator—master in all these relations, he proved his worth and value to the community. No man was more thoroughly gifted in the qualities of manhood and character that lodge in the human heart. He took up the harp of pioneer life and smote all "the vital chords with might." Attuned to the lowly sentiments, to the humble ways and the hardships of the people of the prairie, his sympathies were as broad as the plains of Sangamon County. The drunkard, the outcast, the children and the women, the rowdy and the ruffian, the teacher, the store keeper, and politicians, all were his friends. He was odd in liking so many of his kind, in the universality of his sympathies.

While Lincoln acted from a "full warm heart," policy could not have dictated wiser conduct for a political career. Could genius have planned the course, it would not have added greater skill to its success. His very faults were the highway to public esteem. Almost every man, each woman and child in New Salem were gladdened by his honest hand shake, the cheer of his voice and the charm of his character.


CHAPTER IV

PRACTICAL LEGISLATOR

The fame of Lincoln as a law student and lawyer, as surveyor and postmaster, spread beyond New Salem, and the qualities that had attracted local distinction continued to find him admirers in a broader world. He steadily gained headway with an ever growing audience.

Naturally, the Whigs gave him concerted support as one of their candidates for the Legislature of 1834. In addition he made large inroads into the Democratic party. Its leaders sought to diminish the strength his name would add to the Whig ticket by adopting him as one of their candidates.[86] The flattering proposal was not swallowed by Lincoln. He realized that acceptance might involve estrangement from his own party—no small matter for one who was ambitious politically. He was wise enough to counsel with the leading Whigs and his personal friends as to the prudence of such an alliance. They advised an agreement. It is claimed by Lamon that Lincoln and Dawson made a bargain with the Democratic party that nearly demoralized the Whigs, decidedly weakening the vote of their favorite champion, Major Stuart.[87] In fact, the alliance was more disastrous to the enemy. The Whigs fared well, as it was, in the campaign; and in a year or two, Sangamon County, a former stronghold of Jackson, passed into the control of the followers of Clay.

We have no evidence as to whether Lincoln was less a partisan in the campaign as the result of Democratic endorsement. It was largely a "hand shaking" canvass, a man to man combat. Affable to every one, Lincoln was master in this mode of securing support. On one occasion he came upon thirty men in a field. They declared they would not vote for a man unless he could make a hand. "Well, boys," said he, "if that is all, I am sure of your votes." Taking hold of the cradle, he led the way all the round with perfect ease, and the boys were satisfied.[88]

"The next day he was speaking at Berlin. He went from my house with Dr. Barnett, the man that had asked me who this man Lincoln was. I told him that he was a candidate for the Legislature. He laughed and said, 'Can't the party raise no better material than that?' I said, 'Go to-morrow, and hear all before you pronounce judgment.' When he came back, I said, 'Doctor, what say you now?' 'Why, sir,' said he, 'he is a perfect take-in; he knows more than all of them put together.'"[89]

"Mr. J. R. Herndon, his friend and landlord, heard him make several speeches about this time, and gives us the following extract from one, which seems to have made a special impression upon the minds of his auditors: 'Fellow citizens, I have been told that some of my opponents have said that it was a disgrace to the County of Sangamon to have such a looking man as I am stuck up for the Legislature. Now, I thought this was a free country; that is the reason I address you to-day. Had I known to the contrary, I should not have consented to run; but I will say one thing, let the shoe pinch where it may; when I have been a candidate before you five or six times, and have been beaten every time, I will consider it a disgrace, and will be sure never to try it again; but I am bound to beat that man if I am beat myself. Mark that!'"[90]

Voting at this period was viva voce and not by ballot. One seeking the vote of Lincoln, pompously supported him. Lincoln thereupon voted against that candidate. Those who witnessed the action marveled much and approved his conduct.[91] At this election, of the four successful candidates for Sangamon County, Dawson received 1390 votes; Lincoln followed with 1376. Stuart, the popular Whig, had nearly 200 votes less.[92] These figures speak with eloquence of the advance made by the surveyor in two years.

"After he was elected to the Legislature," says Mr. Smoot, "he came to my house one day in company with Hugh Armstrong. Says he, 'Smoot, did you vote for me?' I told him I did. 'Well,' says he, 'you must loan me money to buy suitable clothing, for I want to make a decent appearance in the Legislature.' I then loaned him two hundred dollars, which he returned to me according to promise."[93]

Compelled by events to be his own teacher, Lincoln learned to depend on his own resources. Reared in a rough school, accustomed to be a leader among his intellectual inferiors, still, in all humility, he looked to his legislative experience with joy. Deprecating his kind of education, open minded he anxiously awaited the privilege of associating with many of the leading men of the State. There gathered at the Capitol its best blood, the choice sons of Illinois, the representatives of the ambition, the intelligence, and the popularity of the State. "The society of Vandalia and the people attracted thither by the Legislature made it, for that early day, a gay place indeed. Compared to Lincoln's former environments, it had no lack of refinement and polish. That he absorbed a good deal of this by contact with the men and women who surrounded him, there can be no doubt. The 'drift of sentiment and the sweep of civilization' at this time can best be measured by the character of the legislation. There were acts to incorporate banks, turnpikes, bridges, insurance companies, towns, railroads and female academies. The vigor and enterprise of New England fusing with the illusory prestige of Kentucky and Virginia was fast forming a new civilization to spread over the prairies."[94]

Lincoln with modesty remained a witness of the doings of the Legislature. Content to wait for the fitting time to make an impression, he did not rush into debate. It was a scouting period. Scanty of talk, rich in thought, ever on the lookout for information, steady in attendance, studying parliamentary procedure, he gained a name for solidity, far better than brilliancy or oratory for real influence in a legislative body.[95]

Lincoln forgot the prudence expressed in his first circular, for he jumped into the movement that hurried along the internal improvement policy. His practice was behind his theory in matters of finance.

Lincoln made little stir in this session, he took no glorious part in its deliberations, and made no record for independence. He usually voted with the members of his party. He became grounded in the finesse of law making, an art whose acquirement and importance are seldom considered. For method as well as merit is an element in the making of the statute. Still, in measuring himself with his associates, he gained confidence and found that he was not far behind in the training for political prosperity. While he would not deceive, he learned how not to be deceived. He discovered that men in the Senate are not of a far different order from those in the field; that culture often hides a mean soul; that polish is often the tinsel of education. He remained the same Lincoln, longing for the reality of the old life without pretense. He was content to return to his admirers in Clary Grove, with no exaltation or pride in his new distinction as legislator.

A special session of the Legislature was held in December, 1835. One of the evils of the time was the eagerness of representatives for public offices of a more permanent character than the uncertain tenure of popular election. New offices were constantly created. Lincoln took a bold stand on the danger. He voted with the majority that the election of a member of the Legislature to a State office was corrupting. He voted with the minority to apply the principle also to relatives and connections of the members. Lincoln remained a persistent supporter of internal improvements. Some of the advocates shifted their votes from time to time, but he remained constant in his devotion.

The influence of Lincoln extended over a widening territory and his fame spread with new opportunities. After two scant years of public life, he was considered among the leaders of his party. No longer waiting on the advice of friends, he offered himself as a candidate for renomination. He initiated his campaign with the following political fulmination:

"To the Editor of the 'Journal': In your paper of last Saturday I see a communication, over the signature of 'Many Voters,' in which the candidates who are announced in the Journal are called upon to 'show their hands.' Agreed, here's mine.

"I go for all sharing the privileges of the government who assist in bearing its burdens. Consequently, I go for admitting all whites to the right of suffrage who pay taxes or bear arms (by no means excluding females).

"If elected, I shall consider the whole people of Sangamon my constituents, as well those that oppose as those that support me.

"While acting as their representative, I shall be governed by their will on all subjects upon which I have the means of knowing what their will is; and upon all others I shall do what my judgment teaches me will best advance their interests. Whether elected or not, I go for distributing the proceeds of the sales of the public lands to the several States, to enable our State, in common with others, to dig canals and construct railroads without borrowing money and paying the interest on it.

"If alive on the first Monday in November, I shall vote for Hugh L. White for President. Very respectfully. A. Lincoln."[96]

In commanding contrast to his first circular, this fairly seems to crowd out every dispensable expression. Contact with the pioneer had taught him to court the power of brevity, so this announcement is more like a creed than an address. Homely and curt in character, it suited the time. It was the best way to the heart of the average voter. Democracy found in it its own image. Lincoln leans more than a little to the popular. He advocates the distribution of the public lands money for the building of canals and railroads without borrowing money, and openly declares his subserviency in being governed by the public will on all questions.

Much attention has been dedicated to the suggestion advocating an equality of suffrage. This expression loses considerable significance considering its random character. There is little subsequent evidence of his belief in female suffrage as a wise and just political measure. Still, it may be fairly assumed that the untrammeled mind of Lincoln, with a sure faith in universal suffrage, followed the cherished doctrine to the end. "All such questions," he observed one day to Herndon as they were discussing temperance in his office, "must first find lodgment with the most enlightened souls who stamp them with their approval. In God's own time they will be organized into law and thus woven into the fabric of our institutions."[97]

The request of candidates to "show their hands" was of special significance at this time. It was a transitional period, the parting of ways between the "whole hog Jacksonite" and the moderate Democrat. There was no room for lukewarm adherents. It was a period of positive alliance. Diplomacy was no longer a factor. The center of gravity shifted from local to national affairs. Contests became partisan controversies on general issues.

The campaign of 1836 is the low ebb of the old personal campaign, where every man fought his own battle on his own worth, where the people judged every candidate on individual merit. This is the last time seekers of office are asked "to show their hand." From that time, political affiliation and not personal worth began to be the marrow of a contest. Partisan devotion submerged personal fealty. The people involuntarily created parties, and straightway became slaves of their own handiwork, selling independence for party loyalty. Partisanship held them in its clutches, and they hardly dared to loosen its embrace. The man who ventured to exercise his judgment was charged with being a weakling, or opened himself to the impious accusation in a democratic community that he regarded himself greater than his party. The vision of the average worker in the ranks became near sighted, and the bias of his judgment knew no limit. Party spirit set free an element of discord among men that sundered friendships, wrought enmities between brothers, and banished reason. From that time even Lincoln ceased to gather any considerable support from his political antagonists.

Lincoln was wise enough to note the tendency of these events. Wasting no regrets over the new conditions, he bound himself to the party of his choice without equivocation. Fairly but energetically maintaining the sanctity of the Whig principles, he became a fearless and feared champion of its doctrine. He displayed keen political wisdom in this conduct. Partisanship seldom rewards the laggard in the day of prosperity.

That Lincoln entered with zeal into this campaign and indulged in the fashion of the day in the issuance of handbills of a flaring character, the following is significant evidence:

"TO THE PEOPLE OF SANGAMON COUNTY—Fellow Citizens: I have this moment been shown a handbill signed 'Truth Teller' in which my name is done up in large capitals. No one can doubt the object of this attack at this late hour. An effort is now made to show that John T. Stuart and myself opposed the passage of the bill by which the Wiggins loan was paid. The handbill says—the only vote taken on the bill when the yeas and nays were taken was upon engrossing the bill for a third reading. 'That's a lie!' Let the reader refer to pages 124, 125 and 126 of the Journal and he will see that the yeas and nays were taken twice upon the bill after the vote referred to by this lying Truth Teller, and he will also see that my course toward the bill was anything but unfriendly. It is impossible to make a lengthy answer at this late hour. All I have to say is that the author is a liar and a scoundrel, and that if he will avow the authorship to me, I promise to give his proboscis a good wringing. A. Lincoln."[98]

One of the sure signs of the spirit of increasing partisanship was the virulence and bitterness of political gatherings. Contests between leaders became frequent. Debates were had on the prairie that equaled in earnestness senatorial controversies. There was all the high tension of the gladiatorial combat intensified by the championship of something more than a personal issue—the stake of party principles. We are informed that on one occasion a Whig candidate, at the top of his voice, branded the statement of a Democratic opponent, as false. As passion ran high, a duel seemed a likely result. Lincoln followed on the program. With his marvelous fairness he discussed the subject gently and serenely so as to satisfy friend and foe. Judicial, though earnest in advocacy, he fully calmed the tumult.[99]

It was doubtless at this time that the following incident deeply disturbed his calmness. Something had displeased the "wild boys" who had been his supporters from the first. Perhaps a rumor that he affected strange ways, or voted for some measure not to their liking, caused the trouble. The leader at once gave the call and they gathered. Seldom revealing himself, he then gave freedom to his emotion. He told them that he never would forget those who had given him his start, the men who stood by him, who had made him what he was and all that he hoped to be. He bade them if they still cherished unkindness, if they still held him guilty, to tear him to pieces limb by limb. The generous hearts of the frontiersmen, overcome by this unwonted display of feeling, lost all resentment, and the leader regained his prestige thus rudely shaken.[100]

Early in the campaign Lincoln spoke at Springfield. Some of the Clary Grove boys and other admirers followed him, confident that he would distinguish himself at his first appearance. They were not slow in claiming that he would make a better stump speech than any one at the county seat. He splendidly defended the principles of his party, and produced a profound impression. Among his auditors was a Mr. Forquer, who had the finest house in Springfield, lately protected by the only lightning rod in that locality. Formerly a Whig, his apostasy was rewarded with a lucrative office. He felt the sting of Lincoln's strong presentation of the principles of the Whig party. The recent recruit to the Democratic organization replied by a speech able and apparently fair, still skillfully mingled with sarcasm. Scorn and satire were freely used, so that the anxiety of the friends of Lincoln was awakened. Speed relates that his reply to Forquer was characterized by great dignity and force; that he would never forget the conclusion of that speech. "Mr. Forquer commenced his speech," said Lincoln, "by announcing that the young man would have to be taken down. It is for you, fellow citizens, not for me to say whether I am up or down. The gentleman has seen fit to allude to my being a young man; but he forgets that I am older in years than I am in tricks and trades of politicians. I desire to live, and I desire place and distinction; but I would rather die now than, like the gentleman, live to see the day that I would change my politics for an office worth three thousand dollars a year, and then feel compelled to erect a lightning rod to protect a guilty conscience from an offended God."[101]

Lincoln showed supreme skill in striking a chord in the pioneer heart. He knew the thoughts of the plain people, knew that they hated every pretension of manner. For many years whenever Forquer rose to speak he was pointed at as the man who put a lightning rod on his house to ward off the vengeance of the Supreme Power.[102] Lincoln was not averse to appeal to other sentiments of the people. At a gathering of farmers in joint debate with his rival, he said: "I am too poor to own a carriage, but my friend has generously invited me to ride with him. I want you to vote for me if you will; but if not then vote for my opponent, for he is a fine man."[103]

In this campaign, Lincoln rose to eminence as a political speaker. From that time he was one of the stalwart Whigs selected by common consent for leadership in the contests with their strong disciplined and victorious opponents. Lincoln's services were given popular endorsement. He led all the rest of his able associates.[104]

In the Legislature of 1836 Lincoln played the part of a politician. The external side of his career is described by Lamon, who declares that "he was the smartest parliamentarian and the cunningest 'log roller.'"[105]

The State was now aglow with enthusiasm over the prospects of the policy of internal improvements. A few days before the Legislature assembled, a mass convention in Sangamon County instructed their members to vote for the system of internal improvements.[106] This was one of the many manifestations of the public sentiment.

Lincoln followed the common political ambition of his time. He became an aggressive champion of the public improvement policy. He told his friend Speed, in confidence, that he aimed at the great distinction of being called the "De Witt Clinton of Illinois." With many other public men of that day he ventured the hope of rivalling the fame of the builder of the Erie Canal.[107] A leading member of the finance committee, he was foremost in urging the popular measures by which everybody was to be enriched by some stroke of statesmanship, some mysterious manipulation in finance. The state loans were to construct railroads, the railroads were to build cities; the cities in turn were to create a demand for farms; capital rushing for investment was to follow, and lands were steadily to rise in value. The tax on real estate was to go into a sinking fund, and thus shuffle off local assessment. In this fine way taxation was to be banished.[108] With untiring step many followed the vision. Politics as well as fancy every now and then has its lamp of Aladdin.

No one voted more persistently for local and State improvements, relief acts and the incorporation of organizations, than Abraham Lincoln. This was not done in darkness. The solemn protest of some sane members was put forth against the prevailing folly that held its repeated jubilations in the Legislature. They commented on the madness of the immense schemes, on the multitude of officers with ample salaries. They dimly prophesied shadow and gloom to the hopes of the enamored majority.[109] Another resolution advising consultation with the people before borrowing money for all the contemplated enterprises received only nine votes. Lincoln was not among that eminent minority.[110]

Governor Ford makes the following stinging comment on those who put into operation the internal improvement policy: They have been excused upon the ground that they were instructed to vote as they did, and that they had every right to believe that they were truly reflecting the will of their constituents. But members ought to resign such small offices, to sacrifice a petty ambition, rather than become the willing tools of a deluded people, to bring so much calamity upon the country.[111]

The chief task of Lincoln and the other members of the Sangamon delegation in the tenth biennial session of the Legislature was to secure the removal of the capital from Vandalia to Springfield. This called forth his utmost ingenuity. Many rivals sought the prize. It was no mean problem to grasp victory from a crowd of contending communities. Lincoln set himself resolutely to the practical problem. It demanded patience, skill and every art of the legislator. Twice its enemies laid the Springfield bill on the table. He gathered his despairing associates for counsel in the hour of seeming defeat. The bill was squeezed through at the last moment.

Governor Ford and other Democrats seriously believed, and long repeated the charge, that the "Long Nine," as the Sangamon delegation was called, "log rolled the removal" through the Legislature. Nicolay and Hay, however, contend that the removal was due to the adroit management of Mr. Lincoln—first in inducing all the rival claimants to unite in a vote to move the capital from Vandalia, and then carrying a direct vote for Springfield through the joint convention by assistance of the Southern counties. They cite as evidence of this personal influence of Lincoln the statement of a legislator: "He made Webb and me vote for the removal, though we belonged to the southern part of the state. We defended our vote before our constituents by saying that necessity would ultimately force the seat of government to a central position. But in reality we gave the vote to Lincoln because we liked him, because we wanted to oblige our friend, and because we recognized him as our leader."[112] This statement is not sufficient to meet the contention that the removal was cunningly attained. The personal power of Lincoln with some legislators may have been an availing factor. Still the majority of the lawmakers were men moved mainly by material considerations. It is not reasonable to assume that in voting on a vital and important proposition they would not highly consider its effect on their own measures; that they would enable the Sangamon delegation to return triumphantly to their constituents without some understanding of reciprocity. That Lincoln reluctantly or otherwise made some peculiar alliances or engaged in some questionable strategy may be reasonably deduced from the admission: "I also tacked a provision onto a fellow's bill, to authorize the relocation of the road from Salem down to your town, but I am not certain whether or not the bill passed. Neither do I suppose I can ascertain before the law will be published—if it is a law."[113]

Still there is stirring evidence that Lincoln would not barter his principles even for the success of his most cherished purpose in that session. An effort was made to unite the friends of Springfield with those of a measure Lincoln refused to sanction. Every argument was used to influence Mr. Lincoln to yield his objections, and thus secure the removal of the capital to his own city, but without effect. Finally after midnight, when the candles were burning low in the room, he rose amid the silence and solemnity which prevailed, and made an eloquent and powerful speech, saying in conclusion: "You may burn my body to ashes, and scatter them to the winds of heaven; you may drag my soul down to the regions of darkness and despair to be tormented forever; but you will never get me to support a measure which I believe to be wrong, although by doing so I may accomplish that which I believe to be right."[B]

In matters involving method and detail, he used every art of the politician. Still when principle was at stake, he would not bow to expediency. With rare precision, he keenly followed the hazy border land between principle and policy. In securing results, he surpassed common politicians; in fealty to integrity he rivalled the patriot.

The year 1837 was a crucial period in many respects for Lincoln. He had steadily moved forward until he became the leader of New Salem. He had shown superior skill as a local politician. But his future as lawyer and politician in New Salem was already bounded. With his success as a legislator and the applause of larger communities, his longing for fame and power grew stronger. With no keen regret, he sundered the ties that bound him to Clary Grove where his word was law, to enter upon a life of more varied and extensive character. His entrance into Springfield was as humble as that into New Salem. Speed relates that Lincoln came into his store, set his saddle bags on the counter, and inquired what a single bedstead would cost. Being told that the amount complete was seventeen dollars, Lincoln said that it was cheap enough, but cheap as it was, he did not have the money to pay, but if he would be trusted until Christmas, and his experiment there as a lawyer was a success, he would pay then, if he failed he would probably never pay at all. The tone of his voice was so full of pathos that Speed felt for him, and he thought that he never saw so gloomy and melancholy a face in his life, and he then told Lincoln that he had a very large room and a very large double bed in it, which he was welcome to share with him. Without saying a word Lincoln took his saddle bags on his arm, went upstairs, set them down on the floor, came down again, and with a face beaming with pleasure and smiles, exclaimed, "Well, Speed, I'm moved."[114]

In the special session of 1837, the accusation that the removal of the capital was born of "bargain and corruption," challenged the integrity of the Sangamon delegation. A prominent Democrat, General Ewing, thus taunted them: "The arrogance of Springfield, its presumption in claiming the seat of government is not to be endured; the law has been passed by chicanery and trickery; the Springfield delegation has sold out to the internal improvement men, and has promised its support to every measure that would gain a vote to the law removing the seat of government."[115] That Lincoln hurried to the defence of the onslaught of an eminent opponent, is another indication that he was rapidly becoming chief of his fellows. He here displayed the same kind of talent that won him applause from audiences on the prairie.[116] General Linder states that then, for the first time, he began to conceive a very high opinion of the talents and personal courage of Abraham Lincoln. The intervention of friends alone averted a duel between Lincoln and Ewing.[117]

During this session, a resolution was introduced by Mr. Linder for a legislative inquiry into the affairs of the State Bank, generally known to be in a hazardous condition. The introducer ventured to support his resolution with a tone of superiority that invited chastisement. Again Lincoln bore the brunt of the defence, railing at Mr. Linder about his pretensions, saying that in one faculty at least, there could be no dispute of the gentleman's superiority over him and most other men, and that was, the faculty of so entangling a subject that neither himself, nor any other man, could find head or tail to it.[118]

In speaking of the resolution itself, Lincoln indulged in these typical expressions: It is an old maxim and a very sound one, that he who dances should always pay the fiddler. I am decidedly opposed to the people's money being used to pay the fiddler. These capitalists generally act harmoniously and in concert to fleece the people; and now that they have got into a quarrel with themselves, we are called upon to appropriate the people's money to settle the quarrel.[119] The people know their rights and they are never slow to assert and maintain them when they are invaded. I make the assertion boldly, and without fear of contradiction, that no man who does not hold an office, or does not aspire to one, has ever found any fault with the bank. No, sir, it is the politician who is first to sound the alarm (which by the way, is a false one.) It is he who by these unholy means, is endeavoring to blow up a storm that he may ride upon and direct. Mr. Chairman, this work is exclusively the work of politicians—a set of men who have interests aside from the interests of the people, and who, to say the most of them, are, taken as a mass, at least one step removed from honest men. I say this with the greater freedom, because, being a politician myself, none can regard it as personal.[120]

The speech was published in the Sangamon Journal with the editorial comment that Lincoln's remarks on Linder's bank resolution were quite to the point; that he carried the true Kentucky rifle, and when he fired he seldom failed sending the shot home.[121]

Lincoln's bold words about the politician, modified by his quaint admission, allow us a glimpse of the inner man. It took no mean courage to make so unpalatable an assertion. Still tempering his speech with his rare kind of diplomacy, he did not suffer in the estimation of his associates, those whose esteem he valued.


CHAPTER V

PROTESTER AND PATRIOT

The year 1837 is the culmination of the first period of abolitionism in Illinois. Until then, abolitionism was a hated eastern conception. Despite opposition, and somewhat feeding on it, it slowly filtered its way through an almost impervious public sentiment. A small band encountered with heroism, the continuous martyrdom that waits on the protagonist. Few in numbers, zealous in their gospel, superbly confident in the rectitude of their counsel they aroused the spirit of retaliation. Their excessive zeal transcended all other obligations, rendering them indifferent, if not hostile, to the constitutional compact. They stimulated and encouraged to life a corresponding bitterness among the multitude.

It was in those days a mortal offence to call a man an abolitionist. The popular mind scarcely distinguished between men who stole horses and men who freed negroes. They regarded anti-slavery men as robbers, disturbers of the peace, the instigators of arson, and enemies to the Union which gave us as a people liberty and strength. "In testimony of these sentiments, Illinois enacted a 'black code' of most preposterous and cruel severity,—a code that would have been a disgrace to a slave state, and was simply an infamy in a free one. It borrowed the provisions of the most revolting laws known among men, for exiling, selling, beating, bedeviling, and torturing negroes, whether bond or free."[122]

That the opposition of slavery was bothering the people of Sangamon County, is evident from the following resolution adopted at Springfield in 1837 at a public meeting, over which Judge Brown presided:

"Resolved that in the opinion of this meeting the doctrine of the immediate emancipation of the slaves of this country (although promulgated by those who profess to be Christians) is at variance with Christianity, and its tendency is to breed contention, broil and mobs; and the leaders of those calling themselves Abolitionists are designing ambitious men and dangerous members of society and should be shunned by all good citizens."[123]

Illinois would scarcely brook unchained utterance on the darkest question of all the ages,—the "right of one man to eat the bread which another earned." A kind of stifling ostracism awaited the lowly or the towering disciple who spoke in the language of Jefferson, of the fear awakening problem. Every generation has its remorseless method of crucifying its heroes of speech and deed. Business and political interests, social influences and religious affiliations concerted in the crushing of abolitionism. Success might have crowned their effort had prudence been their companion, but they mobbed, maltreated, and even murdered the champions of the new movement. Had madness confounded them, they could not have acted more unwisely. This, more than all the agitation of abolition leaders, quickened the moral vitality of the people. There were many white men who cared little for the slave, but much for the gospel of free speech as old as the Anglo-Saxon race. This fatal policy of brute force finally dictated the doom of a power that long mocked all opposition, that dreamed of an imperial government grander than the vision which "Stout Cortez" beheld when he first stared at the Pacific, "silent on a peak in Darien."

The motives that prompted public sentiment in Illinois to throttle discussion on the slave question, almost baffle understanding. The Lovejoys attacked no vested interest in the State, menaced no substantial rights of person or property. While the Southern States busied themselves with the doctrine that it was the privilege of each State to demean itself as it wished, subject only to the Constitution, as it interpreted that instrument, there was small occasion for a Northern commonwealth to curb its own citizens, to sacrifice ancient and cherished rights for the pleasure of an exacting foreign institution.

The anti-slavery forces with keenness of vision saw the weak point of the enemy's attack, so they ranged themselves round the banner, proclaiming the doctrine of free speech and the sacredness of an unshackled press. Nothing more inherently reveals the weakness of the advocates of slavery, than their morbid fear of free and frank inquiry into its policy and wisdom. In the face of an institution demanding mob power, and the sacrifice of priceless principles, the Abolitionists performed a wholesome public service in contending that then more than ever liberty of discussion should be protected, maintained and hallowed.

Suddenly, in the same year up starts Lincoln the statesman, Lincoln the politician sinks. He possessed the rare gift of concealing his most cherished opinions until the time was ripe for expression. He was aware of the folly of mouthing truths when no good could come therefrom. In this, he was a politician. Still when the occasion called for an act of fortitude, when the solemnity of the hour summoned heroic utterance, as from "heights afar," the sound of his voice was heard and the thrill of his words awakened. In this, he was a supreme statesman.

Strange medley of the ideal and the practical,—at times he appeared the very woof of the visionary, and then stood forth as a petty politician. He was a mystery and a wonder to his contemporaries. They never beheld such a man; they had no standard by which to measure him. First, amazing some by the minuteness of his strategy, he would then startle others by a bold proclamation of immortal truth. There was something elusive in the manifoldness of his nature. The world with childlike simplicity looks for uniformity of action, for consistency. So it was that in later years time-servers called Lincoln the apostle of radicalism, and radicals named him the slave of conservatism.

The legislature instead of branding the black crime of the murder of Lovejoy in 1837, hastened to pass resolutions of sympathy with slavery. No external inducement guided Lincoln to fly in the face of the sentiment of the Legislature, the State and Nation in regard to Abolitionism. His conduct mystifies unless the abiding impress of the incident at New Orleans is fully measured. It was no idle vaunt that stirred him to the declaration that if he ever had the chance he would strike a blow for the enslaved. The testing time was at hand. His oath was "registered in Heaven." It was necessary to join the majority in their defence of slavery, or strike a lonely path in behalf of the enslaved. His soul faced that crisis. No longer helpless, he was widely known, and was distinguished for his services as a political leader. High in position, his act and word carrying weight, he proclaimed his protest. The chance being at hand, he struck slavery a stinging blow. The silence of nearly a decade was broken in words that shall echo for evermore. Only one other representative, Dan Stone, of Sangamon County, dared to sign the following signal dissent that will save him from an oblivion that has already enshrouded those who voted for the successful resolutions:

"They believe that the institution of slavery is founded on both injustice and bad policy, but that the promulgation of abolition doctrines tends rather to increase than abate the evils.

"They believe that the Congress of the United States has no power under the Constitution to interfere with the institution of slavery in the different States.

"They believe that the Congress of the United States has the power, under the Constitution, to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, but that the power ought not to be exercised, unless at the request of the people of the District.

"The difference between these opinions and those contained in the said resolutions is their reason for entering this protest.

"Dan Stone,
"A. Lincoln.
"Representatives of the County of Sangamon."[124]

The resolutions that passed the General Assembly were still rather conservative for the time and place. The protest of Lincoln is therefore the more significant, as indicating its origin from some deep mental or moral sentiment. Every letter in the protest is weighed. No product of Lincoln is more native to his genius. It is as restrained as a judicial decision. Avoiding unneeded antagonism, it is framed with admirable diplomacy. Radical in thought, still so moderate in expression, it saved his power for further good, not placing him beyond fellowship with his associates. Yet with all its subdued character, with infinite wisdom it made the assault at the weakest point, declaring that slavery was founded, not only on injustice, but bad policy. In the last phrase lurked the sting that was to awaken the self-interest of the North, the same kind of selfishness that solidified the South in defending the institution. Lincoln was among the first to grasp and lay stress on the warp of the issue. He once declared that honest statesmanship was the employment of individual meanness for the public good. When self-interest became enlisted with conscience against the evil, its days were numbered. While Abolitionism was noisily tugging at one of the pillars that supported human bondage, Lincoln serenely forged an argument linking its moral and industrial weakness, an argument that finally shook its very foundation, until the peculiar institution that dominated the destiny of the nation for more than half a century tumbled to destruction. While other men were forced to change their opinions through the malignancy of slavery to keep abreast of public sentiment, Lincoln remained steadfast in his opinions and his policy. At the outset, he foresaw that no institution could last long that rested on injustice and bad policy. Only a change of external conditions separated the man who entered a solemn protest against the iniquity of slavery in a hostile community and the leader who gave life to the momentous act of the nineteenth century.

The period preceding the murder of Lovejoy was an era of unrest. The mob spirit ranged over the land. Thus in commenting upon the murder of the mulatto McIntosh, Lovejoy says: "In Charlestown it burns a Convent over the head of defenseless women; in Baltimore it desecrates the Sabbath, and works all that day in demolishing a private citizen's house; in Vicksburg it hangs up gamblers, three or four in a row; and in St. Louis it forces a man—a hardened wretch certainly, and one that deserves to die, but not thus to die—it forces him from beneath the aegis of our constitution and laws, hurries him to the stake and burns him alive!"[C]

Without doubt, the murder of Lovejoy and similar incidents drew the mind of Lincoln to the discussion of the subject of the preservation of our institutions. For Herndon has left valuable testimony as to the influence of like events on his own opinions. The cruel and uncalled-for murder aroused anti-slavery sentiments, penetrating the college at Jacksonville where he was attending, and both faculty and students were unrestrained in their denunciation. Herndon's father, believing that the college was too strongly permeated with the virus of Abolitionism, forced him to withdraw from the institution. But Herndon declares that it was too late; that the murder of Lovejoy filled him with more desperation than the slave scene in New Orleans did Lincoln. For while the latter believed in non-interference with slavery, as long as the Constitution authorized its existence, Herndon, although acting nominally with the Whig party up to 1853, struck out for Abolitionism pure and simple.[125]

In the fall of 1837, Lincoln addressed the Young Men's Lyceum at Springfield, Illinois, in a formal discourse bearing traces of considerable preparation. The style is fulsome and fanciful, and unlike his own crisp utterance of previous or subsequent periods. For a time he wandered from his natural self and followed the glitter of what he doubtless deemed a more cultivated form of expression. Thus it begins: "In the great journal of things happening under the sun, we, the American people, find our account running under date of the nineteenth century of the Christian era. We find ourselves in the peaceful possession of the fairest portion of the earth as regards extent of territory, fertility of soil and salubrity of climate. We find ourselves under the government of a system of political institutions conducing more essentially to the ends of civil and religious liberty than any of which the history of former times tells us."[126]

It is especially important to take note of Lincoln's attitude of the prevailing mob spirit. His treatment of that theme, his mode and manner and thought, is so like that of the editor of the Alton Observer, that it is reasonable to assume that there was a common origin to the common sentiment. The same scenes and events that stirred the soul of Lovejoy aroused that of Lincoln. His direct onslaught on the mob spirit being largely connected with the slave issue, was an indirect attack on slavery. In this, Lincoln and the Abolitionists stood on the same ground. He extravagantly denounced the malefaction of the mobs, saying that they pervaded the country from New England to Louisiana; and alike sprang up among the pleasure-hunting masters of Southern slaves, and the order-loving citizens of the land of steady habits, that this process of hanging went on from gamblers to negroes, from negroes to white citizens, and from these to strangers, till dead men were seen literally dangling from the boughs of trees upon every roadside. He further insisted that by the operation of this mobocratic spirit, the strongest bulwark of any government might effectually be broken down and destroyed—the attachment of the people. He contended that whenever the vicious portion of population should be permitted to burn churches, ravage provision stores, throw printing presses into rivers, shoot editors, and hang and burn obnoxious persons with impunity, this government could not last.[127]

Under the display of such extravagant expression there is still patriotic apprehensiveness of danger to the national existence. He fought out the solution of the problem unaided until the way seemed clear and plain. To him the remedy was simple—obedience to the law of the land.

"Let reverence for the law be breathed by every American mother to the lisping babe that prattles on her lap; let it be taught in schools, in seminaries and in colleges; let it be written in primers, spelling books, and in almanacs; let it be preached from the pulpit, proclaimed in legislative halls, and enforced in courts of justice. And, in short, let it become the political religion of the nation, and let the old and the young, the rich and the poor, the grave and the gay of all sexes and tongues and colors and conditions, sacrifice unceasingly upon its altars....

"When I so pressingly urge a strict observance of all the laws, let me not be understood as saying there are no bad laws, or that grievances may not arise for the redress of which no legal provisions have been made. I mean to say no such thing. But I do mean to say that although bad laws if they exist, should be repealed as soon as possible, still, while they continue in force, for the sake of example they should be religiously observed. So also in unprovided cases. If such arises, let proper legal provision be made for them with the least possible delay, but till then, if not too intolerable, be borne with."[128]

His remedy bespeaking reverence for the laws, would destroy the rampant spirit in the slavery movement and in abolitionism, so that neither would violate the law of the land, and so that the controversy might be conducted without intruding on the sanctity of the fundamental principles of the Constitution.

From this time, Lincoln ceased to be a mere local politician. He became intensely concerned over national questions. Naturally, a man of broad views, he soon threw off the coil of locality, and with zeal invaded the arena of national issues. His mind ranged over the general domain for materials. Local issues were only stepping stones to him. Leaving the valley of minor matters, with exuberant spirits, he rejoicingly entered the new land of larger import, and of broader moment to the weal of the nation. For the first time he encountered extensive questions concerning the very foundations of the Republic.

"Towering genius," he said, "disdains a beaten path. It seeks regions hitherto unexplored. It sees no distinction in adding story to story upon the monuments of fame erected to the memory of others. It denies that it is glory enough to serve under any chief. It scorns to tread in the footsteps of any predecessor, however illustrious. It thirsts and burns for distinction; and if possible, it will have it, whether at the expense of emancipating slaves or enslaving freemen."[129]

We here strike a golden vein in his character. Ranging over the world's activities for an illustration to rival the ambition of towering genius, he finds it in the enslavement or emancipation of a race. Out of the loneliness of his individuality, out of the solemnity of his deliberations, he grew into a great character. It is his own illustration dug out of his mental experience, a product of a mind brooding over a national destiny. He saw with unerring vision, for men did come in his own generation who did not scruple to climb to power upon the back of an enslaved people. The true Lincoln consists not only of the humble man, of homely face, gaunt form, shambling limbs, quaint utterance, rude story and humble way. We may also see him in his early manhood with Titan power, fighting and triumphing over the brute forces of his being, over his ambition, and towering to the greatness of righteous triumph. Conduct is only the shadow of soul struggle. Nearly three decades before the Emancipation, its destiny was determined in no small measure by the events that led to the murder of Lovejoy.


CHAPTER VI

PARTISAN IN STATE AND NATIONAL AFFAIRS

The campaign of 1838 did not differ materially from that of previous years. A colleague of Lincoln says that they called at nearly every home; that it was customary to keep some whiskey in the house, for private use and to treat guests; that the subject was always mentioned as a matter of etiquette, but with the remark to Lincoln that though he never drank, his friend might like to take a little. Lincoln often told his associates that he never drank and had no desire for drink, nor the companionship of drinking men.

Some light is thrown on the nature of the conduct of office seekers by the following incident: During this campaign, Douglas and Stuart, candidates for Congress, "fought like tigers in Herndon's grocery, over a floor that was drenched with slops, and gave up the struggle only when both were exhausted. Then, as a further entertainment to the populace, Mr. Stuart ordered a 'barrel of whiskey and wine.'"[130]

Joshua Speed states that some of the Whigs contributed a purse of two hundred dollars to enable Lincoln to pay his personal expense in the canvass. After the election, the candidate handed Speed $199.25, with the request that he return it to the subscribers. "I did not need the money," said he, "I made the canvass on my own horse; my entertainment being at the houses of friends, cost me nothing; and my only outlay was seventy-five cents for a barrel of cider, which some farm hands insisted I should treat them to."[131]

On one occasion, Col. Taylor, a demagogue of the Democratic party, was hypocritically appealing to his "horny handed neighbors" in language of feigned adulation. Lincoln knew his man. He deftly removed the vest of the orator and revealed to his astonished hearers "a ruffled shirt front glittering with watch chain, seals and other golden jewels." The speaker stood confused. The audience roared with laughter. When it came Lincoln's turn to answer, he retorted. "While Colonel Taylor was making these charges against the Whigs over the country, riding in fine carriages, wearing ruffled shirts, kid gloves, massive gold watch chains with large gold seals, and flourishing a heavy gold-headed cane, I was a poor boy, hired on a flat-boat at eight dollars a month, and had only one pair of breeches to my back, and they were buckskin. Now if you know the nature of buckskin when wet and dried by the sun, it will shrink; and my breeches kept shrinking until they left several inches of my legs bare between the tops of my socks and the lower part of my breeches; and whilst I was growing taller they were growing shorter, and so much tighter that they left a blue streak around my legs that can be seen to this day. If you call this aristocracy I plead guilty to the charge."[132]

When the Legislature convened in 1838, Lincoln was a candidate of his party for speaker. His opponent was chosen by a plurality of one vote. Lamon declares that this distinction was a barren honor, and known to be such at the time, but cites no reason for his statement.[133] At least the humble representative of Sangamon County continued to rise in the esteem of his associates. His activity was crowned with the approval of those with whom he fought side by side in the turmoil and debate of controversy. It is a significant indication of his diplomacy. He had so won the confidence of his companions that even differences on that slavery issue did not cause him the loss of their esteem and favor. The recipient of such an honor is likely to be the possessor of amiable personal qualities that call forth devotion, even more than the sturdy qualities of talent and ability.[134] In matters of political expediency, Lincoln did not run athwart the sentiments of the majority. Despite the mutterings of discontent in some quarters, despite a growing feeling that the internal improvement policy was likely to involve the State in disaster, the finance committee, of which Lincoln was a prominent member, advised even further indulgence in the fatal policy. Finally, the fearful financial condition of the State stared the people and their representatives in the face. The supporters of the internal improvement system stubbornly began to yield to the policy of retrenchment. Still, in the Special Session of 1839, assembled to deliberate over the momentous state of affairs, Lincoln with peculiar logic urged they were so far advanced in a general system of internal improvements that they could not retreat from it without disgrace and great loss, and that the conclusion was that they must advance.[135]

Lincoln was one of thirty-three members to vote for laying the bill repealing improvements on the table, while sixty opposed this action; and he was one of thirty-five who voted against the repeal of the internal improvement policy, while thirty-seven voted for it.[136] Thus, to the very end, Lincoln persisted in the disastrous policy that clouded the history and prosperity of Illinois for many years.

Lincoln basked in political events. He was alive to the details in political strategy. In November, 1839, he wrote to Stuart, his partner, in regard to a voter: "Evan Butler is jealous that you never send your compliments to him. You must not neglect him next time."[137]

From the very beginning, he concerned himself with the candidacy of General Harrison. Recognizing its elemental political strength, he watched its growth with increasing interest. Harrison had never distinguished himself as a public citizen. Lincoln looked at the political side of the picture alone, little dreaming that the day was to come when his election was to depend, in some measure, on the same emotions that promoted the triumph of Harrison. In both campaigns the log cabin played a dominant part.

Speed's store in Springfield was the retreat of Lincoln, Douglas and Baker, and other political leaders of the dominant parties. However, partisanship was about to triumph, and common meeting places were soon to become unknown. In December, 1839, just as the campaign of 1840 was looming up, a political discussion between the leaders grew violent in the grocery over the national issue. During the angry debate, Douglas, with his imperial manner, flung forth the taunt: "Gentlemen, this is no place to talk politics; we will discuss the question publicly with you."[138]

Lincoln, who had schooled himself in logical dissertation, loved a political contest. He had met the champions of the Legislature without dismay, and was more feared than fearing. Shortly afterward Lincoln presented a resolution to accept the flaunting challenge of Douglas. Logan, Baker, Browning and Lincoln were the chosen disputants of the Whig cause. The Democrats put forth Douglas, Calhoun, Lambourn and Thomas as their champions. Each speaker was allowed an evening for his address. This controversy was long known as "the great debate."[139]

That Lincoln was climbing to eminence slowly, that he was marvelously free from egoism and the aggressiveness of the common political orator is manifest from the first paragraph of his address: "It is peculiarly embarrassing to me to attempt a continuance of the discussion, on this evening, which has been conducted in this hall on several preceding ones. It is so because on each of these evenings there was a much fuller attendance than now, without any reason for its being so, except the greater interest the community feel in the speakers who addressed them than they do in him who is to do so now. I am, indeed, apprehensive that the few who have attended have done so more to spare my mortification than in the hope of being interested in anything I may be able to say. This circumstance casts a damp upon my spirits, which I am sure I shall be unable to overcome during the evening."[140]

His manner of holding an opponent to the point at issue, his directness of speech are strikingly displayed: "I now ask the audience, when Mr. Calhoun shall answer me, to hold him to the questions. Permit him not to escape them. Require him either to show that the subtreasury would not injuriously affect the currency, or that we should in some way receive an equivalent for that injurious effect. Require him either to show that the subtreasury would not be more expensive as a fiscal agent than a bank, or that we would in some way be compensated for the additional expense."[141]

Although of limited experience in public controversy, the least known of the Whig debaters, diffident of his own capacity, yet he sought the most brilliant and distinguished debater in the Democratic party—Douglas. Free from sham, he was merciless in exposing it in others, as the following attack on his elusive antagonist indicates: "Those who heard Mr. Douglas recollect that he indulged himself in a contemptuous expression of pity for me. 'Now, he's got me,' thought I. But when he went on to say that five millions of the expenditure of 1838 were payments of the French indemnities, which I knew to be untrue; that five millions had been for the Postoffice, which I knew to be untrue; that ten millions had been for the Maine boundary war, which I not only knew to be untrue, but supremely ridiculous also; and when I saw that he was stupid enough to hope that I would permit such groundless and audacious assertions to be unexposed,—I readily consented that, on the score both of veracity and sagacity, the audience would judge whether he or I were the more deserving of the world's contempt."[142]

Sober in the main as the speeches of Webster, on the currency issue Lincoln only once let loose his rollicking and suffusing sense of humor: "The Democrats are vulnerable in the heel—I admit is not merely figuratively, but literally true. Who that looks but for a moment at their Swartwouts, their Prices, their Harringtons, and their hundreds of others, scampering away with the public money to Texas, to Europe, and to every spot of the earth where a villain may hope to find refuge from justice, can at all doubt that they are most distressingly affected in their heels with a species of 'running itch.' It seems that this malady of their heels operates on these sound-headed and honest-hearted creatures very much like the cork leg in the comic song did on its owner: which, when he had once got started on it, the more he tried to stop it, the more it would run away."[143]

That he was still subject to the fashion of pioneer exuberant expression; that he was somewhat entangled in the growing partisanship of the time, is thoroughly evident from his stormy peroration: "Many free countries have lost their liberty, and ours may lose hers; but if she shall, let it be my proudest plume, not that I was the last to desert, but that I never deserted her. I know that the great volcano at Washington, aroused and directed by the evil spirit that reigns there, is belching forth the lava of political corruption in a current broad and deep, which is sweeping with frightful velocity over the whole length and breadth of the land, bidding fair to leave unscathed no green spot or living thing; while on its bosom are riding, like demons on the waves of hell, the imps of that evil spirit, and fiendishly taunting all those who dare resist its destroying course with the helplessness of their effort; and, knowing this, I cannot deny that all may be swept away. Broken by it I, too, may be; bow to it I never will. The probability that we may fall in the struggle ought not to deter us from the support of a cause we believe to be just; it shall not deter me."[144]

This fulsome conclusion more than his sustained logical argument swept over his audience and made it a popular success, so that admiring friends promoted its publication in the Sangamon Journal. Lamon, however, curtly makes this dampening comment on his eloquent diction: "Considering that the times were extremely peaceful, and that the speaker saw no bloodshed except what flowed from the noses of belligerents in the groceries about Springfield, the speech seems to have been unnecessarily defiant."[145]

The Committee of Whigs in charge of Harrison's political campaign in Illinois issued a circular urging the organization of the whole State for the Presidential contest. Lincoln was a prominent member of this body and his style shows through this appeal. It was a combination of skillful play to party spirit, and a thorough knowledge of the mode of conducting a successful campaign. "To overthrow the trained bands that are opposed to us, whose salaried officers are ever on the watch, and whose misguided followers are ever ready to obey their smallest commands, every Whig must not only know his duty, but must firmly resolve, whatever of time and labor it may cost, boldly and faithfully to do it. Our intention is to organize the whole State, so that every Whig can be brought to the polls in the coming presidential contest. We cannot do this, however, without your cooperation; and as we do our duty, so we shall expect you to do yours."[146]

The circular then proposed a new method of bringing out the full Whig vote, in essence the same that is now employed by every successful political organization. The following was the plan of organization:—

(1) To divide every county into small districts, and to appoint in each a subcommittee, with the duty to make a perfect list of all the voters, and to ascertain their choice with certainty, all doubtful voters to be designated in separate lines.

(2) To keep a constant watch on the doubtful voters, and from time to time have them talked to by those they trusted, and to place in their hands convincing documents.

(3) To report, at least once a month, and on election days see that every Whig was brought to the polls.[147]

Lincoln was brought up in a practical school where votes are a matter of calculation, where the things done on the stage were plotted and planned behind the stage. Few men were more thoroughly trained in the methods of securing results. He eagerly wrote to Stuart for copies of the "Life of Harrison," and also requested "The Senate Journal of New York" of September, 1814. "I have a newspaper article which says that that document proves that Van Buren voted against raising troops in the last war. And in general send me everything you think will be a good 'war-club.'"[148] He was learning that political battles are won and lost, not alone on discussion of principles, but on appeals to the emotions of men.

As a politician, his judgment prevailed over his sentiment. He was not carried away by the enthusiasm of the hour, but looked beneath the surface for events that suggested public sentiment. So he noted with discernment "A great many of the grocery sort of Van Buren men, as formerly, are out for Harrison. Our Irish blacksmith, Gregory, is for Harrison. I believe I may say that all our friends think the chances of carrying the State very good."[149]

For the first time in years, the Whigs conducted a campaign more aggressive than that of their opponents. General Harrison represented no definite political policy. The log cabin, the coon skin cap, the political songs, the enthusiasm of even the children, all this was more potent than the solid and sober discussion of such issues as the currency, executive power, American labor, protection and internal improvements.

The sober thinking and dignified leaders of the Whig party were somewhat shocked by the uncouth campaign of 1840. It was not in keeping with the dignity of its traditions. Leaders like Webster brooked with impatience a campaign in which judgment was fairly forgotten.

The whole campaign was one of luxuriant freedom, of intense excitement, of exaggerated discourse. A resolution adopted at Springfield during March, indicates the language that was abroad: "Resolved, that the election of Harrison and Tyler would emancipate the land from the Catilines who infest it; would restore it to prosperity and peace, and bring back the time when good measures, good principles and good men would control the administration of our government."[150]

Lincoln was foremost in the emotional fight of 1840. With all the zeal of eager youth, he rushed into the contest. As a presidential elector, he traversed a large portion of the State. Thus a newspaper of the day says: "He is going it with a perfect rush. Thus far the Locofocos have not been able to start a man that can hold a candle to him in political debate. All of their crack nags that have entered the list against him have come off the field crippled or broke down. He is now wending his way north."[151]

An incident little known, but of vast importance in illumining the kind of orator Lincoln was in 1840, is found in an almost forgotten book. Therein we find the impression that gaunt Lincoln made upon a cultured resident and distinguished lawyer of St. Louis, who says that at a gathering of Whigs in April, 1840, at Belleville, Mr. Lincoln was the first speaker to an immense crowd. "He rang all the changes upon 'coon skins,' 'hard cider,' 'log cabins,' etc., and among other things he launched forth in true Lincoln style and manner and said he had been 'raised over thar on Irish potatoes and buttermilk and mauling rails.'... I went to Col. Edward Baker, I think it was, and told him for goodness sake to try and get Lincoln down from the stand; that he was doing us more harm than good ... when Lincoln goes to weaving his buttermilk, etc., it would seem as if we were verging rather too near onto the ridiculous. We succeeded very soon in getting Lincoln down from the stand and got up another speaker who seemed to have more judgment in managing the canvass."[152]

This statement should not be neglected. It is the judgment of a civilization different from that of pioneer Illinois. Events had hardly sobered the style and the manner of the sensitive politician of Sangamon County. Later on he grew to a more reserved and severe exposition of political discussion, grew to appeal to the judgment rather than the sentiments of men, grew to lift the debate of the hour above the clash of partisan controversy.

During this campaign, he once failed to come up to the requirements of the occasion in a debate with Douglas. A friend describes his distress at his failure: "He begged to be permitted to try it again, and was reluctantly indulged; and in the next effort he transcended our highest expectations. I never heard and never expect to hear such a triumphant vindication as he then gave of Whig measures or policy. He never after, to my knowledge, fell below himself."[153]

The debates of this campaign were a product of the excited and heated condition of the public mind. Thus, Gen. John Ewing, of Indiana, challenged the whole Democratic party and threatened to annihilate it. Douglas was pitted against him. There was no formality at the meetings. Each was to speak an hour alternately. The debate was to begin at eight and adjourn at twelve; meet at two and continue to sundown each day until the contest would be ended. At the end of the fifth day, Ewing "threw up the sponge," and a vigorous shout was given by the Democrats. "E. D. Baker, notified of Ewing's defeat, mounted a butcher block and began to address us. They protested that the game of 'two pluck one' could not be tolerated. He persisted and at once the cry was raised 'pull him down.' At length he yielded, otherwise it would have ended with a number of broken heads."[154]

Another incident still further discloses the character of the controversy that prevailed at that period. Arnold says that Baker was speaking in a room under Lincoln's office, and communicating with it by a trap door. Lincoln in his office, listened. Baker, becoming excited, abused the Democrats. A cry was raised, "Pull him off the stand!" Lincoln, knowing a general fight was imminent, descended through the opening of the trap door, and springing to the side of Baker, said: "Gentlemen, let us not disgrace the age and country in which we live. This is a land where freedom of speech is guaranteed. Baker has a right to speak, and a right to be permitted to do so. I am here to protect him, and no man shall take him from this stand if I can prevent it." Baker finished without further interruption.[155]

Lincoln and Douglas often met in debate in this campaign. Lamon states that Lincoln in the course of one speech imputed to Van Buren the great sin of having voted in the New York State Convention for negro suffrage with a property qualification. Douglas denied the fact, and Lincoln attempted to prove his statement by reading a certain passage from Holland's Life of Van Buren, whereupon Douglas got mad, snatched up the book, and, tossing it into the crowd, remarked sententiously, "Damn such a book!"[156]

The above encounter shows Lincoln's method of attack. He followed his brilliant antagonist with facts that all his ingenuity could not evade. From that day, Lincoln loved nothing better than a fray with the feared champion of Democracy. No other Whig orator could fret Douglas as Lincoln did. They were as different in mental and moral outlook as they were in appearance. Lincoln saw through his skillful opponent. He knew his strength and he knew his weakness. He was prepared for his chameleon-like attacks and onslaughts. While contemporaries hardly saw in Lincoln the future rival of the growing Douglas, still Lincoln was gaining strength in the technic of debate that was later to be of inestimable service to him in controversies of national import.

In the 1840-1 Legislature, Lincoln was again the candidate of his party for speaker. As leader of the minority, he doubtless deemed it an obligation on his part to provide some plan to pay the State debt and save its honor. He no longer cherished the illusion of gaining fame as the DeWitt Clinton of Illinois. There were some in the Legislature who boldly favored repudiation of the whole State debt. Others advocated payment of such part of it as the State actually received an equivalent for. Only a few dared to demand adequate taxation for the payment of the interest on the bonds. That was an unpopular expedient.

Lincoln walked the middle way. He was not a friend of repudiation and still he did not court a loss of public esteem by proposing substantial direct taxation. His bill provided that the Governor should issue interest bonds as might be absolutely necessary for the payment of the interest upon the lawful debt of the State. He declared that he submitted the proposition with great diffidence; that he felt his share of the responsibility in the crisis; and, that after revolving in his mind every scheme which seemed to afford the least prospect of relief, he submitted this as the result of his own deliberations; that it might be objected that the bonds would not be salable; that he was no financier, but that he believed the bonds would be equal to the best in the market, and that as to the impropriety of borrowing money to pay interest on borrowed money,—he would reply, that if it were a fact that our population and wealth were increasing in a ratio greater than the increased interest hereby incurred, then it was not a good objection.[157]

He concluded with characteristic modesty that, "he had no pride in its success as a measure of his own, but submitted it to the wisdom of the House, with the hope, that, if there was anything objectionable in it, it would be pointed out and amended."[158]

Lamon calls it a loose document, as the Governor was to determine the "amount of bonds necessary," and the sums for which they should be issued, and interest was to be paid only upon the "lawful" debt; and the Governor was to determine what part of it was lawful and what was unlawful.[159] Still in essence, Lincoln's plan of leaving the determination of the lawfulness of the debt to an authority not the legislative, was finally adopted.[160]

The shameless interference with the judicial system of Illinois about 1840 luridly illustrates the enslaving partisanship of that time. Under the provision of the State Constitution permitting every white male adult to vote, aliens had known the right of suffrage for years. Nine-tenths of the aliens allied themselves with the Democratic organization so that their support was essential to its success. As the Presidential contest grew in intensity there sprang up a controversy about these unnaturalized voters. Each party arrayed itself on the side of its own interest. The Whigs maintained that the Federal Constitution had provided against the participation of aliens in the affairs of government. A test case was brought to the Illinois Supreme Court which consisted of three Whigs and one Democrat. The latter informed Douglas, in advance, that the majority had agreed upon a decision unfavorable to the alien vote, but that there was a technical error in the record. This knowledge became serviceable to the Democrats. The case, by reason of the imperfection, was put over to the December term, and 10,000 alien votes saved the State for another Democratic administration.

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'.

"He was paying his money to this one, and that one, and t'other one, and sufferin' great loss because it wasn't silver instead of State paper; and the sweet distress he seemed to be in,—his very features, in the ecstatic agony of his soul, spoke audibly and distinctly, 'Dear girls, it is distressing, but I cannot marry you all. Too well I know how much you suffer; but do, do remember, it is not my fault that I am so handsome and so interesting.'"[166]

The production appeared in the Sangamon Journal, and at once aroused the wrath of Shields. A demand for the identity of the author followed. Doubtless to save Miss Todd from entanglement, Lincoln announced himself as the writer. Thereupon, Shields demanded a full retraction of all offensive allusions. Strangely enough, Lincoln did not welcome this solution of the situation. He took advantage of the rather ardent demand for an apology and held his ground with these words: "Now, sir, there is in this so much assumption of facts and so much of menace as to consequences, that I cannot submit to answer that note any further than I have, and to add that the consequences to which I suppose you allude would be matter of as great regret to me as it possibly could to you."[167]

With such a start, a duel for a time seemed inevitable. At the last moment, common friends conveniently, and doubtless to the great satisfaction of the contestants, calmed the affair without a real encounter.

Duelling was the rage of the hour.[168] Lincoln was too sensitive to the good opinion of the community to fly in the face of popular sentiment. So he violated the law of the State to engage in a transaction unsanctioned by his judgment, not ready to defy the general taste in a matter where the standard was still that of the pioneer community. It is not therefore surprising that in later years, Lincoln was abashed by his part in this fight. This was his last personal quarrel, and marks a decisive epoch in his career.[169] Thereafter, he became a champion of principles and was prepared to play a part in debates of world-wide moment.

A dramatic contest ran through this session on the part of the banks to obtain further condonation in the suspension of specie payments. The Whigs were friendly, calling them, "the institutions of the country," branding opposition unpatriotic. The Democrats, however, were on the whole hostile to the banks. They called them "rag barons, rags, printed lies, bank vassals, ragocracy, and the 'British-bought bank, bluelight, Federal, Whig party.'"[170]

The contest was rendered closer by "opportune loans to Democrats." The fight grew in intensity as if the wealth, the industry and the very happiness of the people were at stake. The Democrats, in order to kill the banks, were bent on a sine die adjournment of the special term. The Whigs in their zeal to save them invented what was a novel expedient at that time in parliamentary tactics. The Whigs absented themselves to prevent a quorum, leaving Lincoln and Gillespie to call the ayes and noes. The Democrats discovered the game, and the sergeant-at-arms was sent out. There was great excitement in the House, which was then held in a church at Springfield. Soon several Whigs were caught and brought in and the plan was spoiled. Then Lincoln and his accomplice determined to leave the hall. Going to the door, and finding it locked, they raised a window and jumped out, but not until the Democrats had succeeded in adjourning. Mr. Gillespie remarked that "Lincoln always regretted that he entered into that arrangement, as he deprecated every thing that savored of the revolutionary."[171]

This incident discloses Lincoln the politician, Lincoln the student of methods engaging in practices that his judgment subsequently disapproved. He was thoroughly schooled in securing results. The student of Lincoln should not hurry over this incident, nor minimize its significance. He mingled in common, sordid, political events.

Though Lincoln engaged freely in the political machinations of his day, he did not sanction corruption. He stood out as a champion of an untainted franchise. He did not still his conscience with the soothing medicine that corruption was the common practice. He moved at this session that the part of the Governor's message relating to fraudulent voting be referred to the Committee on elections, with instructions to prepare and report a bill for such an act as might afford the greatest possible protection of the elective franchise against all frauds.[172]

Bred in the school of partisanship, where the doctrine that spoils is the fruit of victory, was almost a creed, Lincoln never enslaved himself by the acceptance of that dogma, either in practice or theory. Early in life he had reasoned out the principle that public office is a trust. He dared to assert its integrity at a time when it met little favor. He wrote in 1840 that he was opposed to removal of public officials to make places for friends.[173] Still, the malevolent conduct of an office holder stirred his resentment. In the same letter he said there was no question as to the propriety of removing the postmaster at Carlinville, that the latter boldly refused to deliver during the canvass all documents franked by Whig members of Congress.[174]

By his tact and service, Lincoln stood well with the party leaders, so that in 1841 he was widely mentioned as a worthy candidate for Governor. A formal protest from his hand and that of his close friends against such a movement was put in the Sangamon Journal: "His talents and services endear him to the Whig party; but we do not believe he desires the nomination. He has already made great sacrifices in maintaining his party principles, and before his political friends ask him to make additional sacrifices, the subject should be well considered. The office of Governor, which would of necessity interfere with the practice of his profession, would poorly compensate him for the loss of four of the best years of his life." Whether he could have attained the nomination is not known. Lincoln was not accustomed to put aside political honors. It is significant that the young legislator readily availed himself of a mode of self-glorifying declination popular with politicians to this day.[175]