This was perhaps the first time Lincoln ever misjudged his situation. His intuitions as well as his reasoning powers were usually very accurate, but in this case they were far out of the way, for when he arrived at Cooper Institute he was amazed to find the immense hall crowded with the representatives of the culture, commerce, finance, and industry of the metropolis. It was a notable audience in many respects. He was escorted to the platform by Horace Greeley and David Dudley Field, and introduced by William Cullen Bryant. Every man of importance in New York City was present, many of them, no doubt, attracted by curiosity to see and hear the homely lawyer from the prairies of whom they had read in the newspapers. But he captivated his audience from the start. Every hearer was impressed not only with his convincing arguments, but with his dignity and eloquence.

Lincoln began his address in a low monotone, and was evidently embarrassed, but the respectful attention with which he was heard gave him confidence, his tones rose in strength and gained in clearness, and his awkward manner disappeared, as it always did when his consciousness was lost in the earnest presentation of his thoughts. His style was so simple, his language so unstudied and terse, his illustration so quaint and apt, his reasoning so concise and compact that his critics asked themselves and one another, as Henry M. Field says, "What manner of man is this lawyer from the West who has set forth these truths as we have never heard them before?" Lincoln made no effort at display. He estimated the intelligence of his hearers accurately, and introduced neither anecdote nor witticism, nor is there a figure of speech or a poetic fancy in the first half of his oration. There was no more sentiment than he would have introduced in a legal argument before the Supreme Court, but he nevertheless arrested and held the attention of his hearers, and they gave abundant testimony that they recognized him as a master. No man ever made a more profound impression upon an American audience. His speech was published in full in four of the morning papers and extracts were copied widely throughout the country.

The Honorable Joseph H. Choate, ambassador to Great Britain, himself one of the most eminent of American orators, in an address at Edinburgh in 1900, has given us the following graphic description of Lincoln's Cooper Institute speech:

"It is now forty years since I first saw and heard Abraham Lincoln, but the impression which he left on my mind is ineffaceable. After his great successes in the West he came to New York to make a political address. He appeared in every sense of the word like one of the plain people among whom he loved to be counted. At first sight there was nothing impressive or imposing about him, except that his great stature singled him out from the crowd; his clothes hung awkwardly on his giant frame, his face was of a dark pallor, without the slightest tinge of color; his seamed and rugged features bore the furrows of hardship and struggle; his deep-set eyes looked sad and anxious; his countenance in repose gave little evidence of that brainpower which had raised him from the lowest to the highest station among his countrymen. As he talked to me before the meeting he seemed ill at ease, with that sort of apprehension which a young man might feel before presenting himself to a new and strange audience whose critical disposition he dreaded.

"It was a great audience, including all the noted men—all the learned and cultured—of his party in New York: editors, clergymen, statesmen, lawyers, merchants, critics. They were all very curious to hear him. His fame as a powerful speaker had preceded him, and exaggerated rumor of his wit had reached the East. When Mr. Bryant presented him on the high platform of the Cooper Institute a vast sea of eager, upturned faces greeted him, full of intense curiosity to see what this rude child of the people was like. He was equal to the occasion. When he spoke he was transformed; his eye kindled, his voice rang, his face shone and seemed to light up the whole assembly. For an hour and a half he held his audience in the hollow of his hand. His style of speech and manner of delivery were severely simple. What Lowell called 'the grand simplicities of the Bible,' with which he was so familiar, were reflected in his discourse. With no attempt at ornament or rhetoric, without parade or pretence, he spoke straight to the point. If any came expecting the turgid eloquence or the ribaldry of the frontier, they must have been startled at the earnest and sincere purity of his utterances. It was marvellous to see how this untutored man, by mere self-discipline and the chastening of his own spirit, had outgrown all meretricious arts, and found his way to the grandeur and strength of absolute simplicity.

"He spoke upon the theme which he had mastered so thoroughly. He demonstrated by copious historical proofs and masterly logic that the fathers who created the Constitution in order to form a more perfect union, to establish justice, and to secure the blessings of liberty to themselves and their posterity, intended to empower the Federal government to exclude slavery from the Territories. In the kindliest spirit, he protested against the avowed threat of the Southern States to destroy the Union if, in order to secure freedom in those vast regions, out of which future States were to be carved, a Republican President were elected. He closed with an appeal to his audience, spoken with all the fire of his aroused and kindling conscience, with a full outpouring of his love of justice and liberty, to maintain their political purpose on that lofty and unassailable issue of right and wrong which alone could justify it, and not to be intimidated from their high resolve and sacred duty by any threats of destruction to the government or of ruin to themselves. He concluded with this telling sentence, which drove the whole argument home to all our hearts:

"'Let us have faith that right makes might, and in that faith let us to the end dare to do our duty as we understand it.'

"That night the great hall, and the next day the whole city, rang with delighted applause and congratulations, and he who had come as a stranger departed with the laurels of a great triumph."

While in New York he visited the Five Points House of Industry, and the following account of what occurred is given by a teacher there: "Our Sunday-School in the Five Points was assembled, one Sabbath morning, when I noticed a tall, remarkable man enter the room and take a seat among us. He listened with fixed attention to our exercises, and his countenance expressed such genuine interest that I approached him and suggested that he might be willing to say something to the children. He accepted the invitation with evident pleasure, and, coming forward, began a simple address which at once fascinated every little hearer and hushed the room into silence. His language was strikingly beautiful and his tones musical with the intensest feeling. The little faces around him would droop into sad conviction as he uttered the sentences of warning, and would brighten into sunshine as he spoke cheerful words of promise. Once or twice he attempted to close his remarks, but the imperative shouts of 'Go on!' 'Oh, do go on!' would compel him to resume. As I looked upon the gaunt and sinewy frame of the stranger and marked his powerful head and determined features, now touched into softness by the impressions of the moment, I felt an irresistible curiosity to learn something more about him, and when he was quietly leaving the room I begged to know his name. He courteously replied,—

"'Abraham Lincoln, from Illinois.'"

Lincoln received many invitations to speak in New England and delivered addresses in all of the prominent cities, where he created the same favorable impression and awakened the same popular enthusiasm.

After his inauguration as President, Lincoln made no formal speeches except his two inaugural addresses, but scarcely a week passed that he did not deliver some pleasant little speech from the balcony of the White House or at one of the military camps, and during his journey to Washington he was especially happy in his treatment of the serious questions which were troubling the public mind.

IV
A PRAIRIE POLITICIAN

When Abraham Lincoln was twenty-two years old and a clerk in Denton Offutt's store he offered himself to the voters of New Salem and vicinity as a candidate for the Illinois Legislature. It was the year that the Whigs held their first National Convention and nominated Henry Clay as their candidate for President; and from that time, as has been seen, Lincoln made politics as well as law a profession, and participated actively in every campaign until he was elected President.

In those days nominations for office were made by announcement and not by conventions, and, according to custom, with thirteen other citizens fired with similar ambition, Lincoln issued a circular or "handbill," as it was familiarly called, setting forth in quaint and characteristic candor his "sentiments with regard to local affairs." It was his platform, and no utterance of his entire life is more interesting than the few personal remarks which he addressed to his neighbors:

"Every man 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. How far I shall succeed in gratifying this ambition is yet to be developed. I am young, and unknown to many of you. I was born, and have ever remained, in the most humble walks of life. I have no wealthy or popular relations or friends to recommend me. My case is thrown exclusively upon the independent voters of the county, and if elected they will have conferred a favor upon me for which I shall be unremitting in my labors to compensate. But if the good people in their wisdom shall see fit to keep me in the background, I have been too familiar with disappointments to be very much chagrined."

It was an audacious act for a young man who had been in the county only about nine months to aspire to the honor and responsibility of a law-maker, but, compared with his neighbors, Lincoln's qualifications were conspicuous. He could read and write, had a fair knowledge of literature, had read two or three law-books, was a practical surveyor, and by reason of his two journeys to New Orleans had seen a good deal more of the world than any one in that neighborhood. But these qualifications did not count for much in comparison with his ability as a public speaker and his faculty of doing things which had already made him a reputation throughout the county. Although his advantages had been limited, they were superior to those enjoyed by three-fourths of the young men in Sangamon County, and for education, experience, and other qualifications he surpassed a majority of the members of the Legislature. There were only a few men of culture and education in that body. It was chiefly made up of illiterate pioneers who mixed politics with farming and carried on their campaigns at camp-meetings, horseraces, country stores, and taverns, and resorted to every subterfuge that their shrewd minds could invent to secure votes. At the same time they were generally honest, patriotic, and earnest for the welfare of their constituents and their personal characters commanded the esteem and confidence of the public. Among such men Lincoln's talent for talking and writing, his knowledge of poetry and literature, and, more than all, his genius as a story-teller excited admiration and respect, and he was regarded as the most promising young man in the neighborhood. His announcement "handbill" discussed the several topics which at that time were being agitated, such as the improvement of the Sangamon River. He related his experience with flat-boats, and declared that by straightening the channel and clearing away the drift-wood the stream could be made navigable. "The improvement of the Sangamon River," he sagely remarked, "is an object much better suited to our infant resources" than the construction of a railway, and, indeed, it was fifteen years later that the first whistle of a locomotive was heard in Illinois. He took broad grounds in favor of internal improvements, advocated a law prohibiting money-loaners from charging exorbitant rates of interest, and favored liberal appropriations for education.

"For my part," he said, "I desire to see the time when education, and by its means morality, sobriety, enterprise, and industry, shall become much more general than at present, and should be gratified to have it in my power to contribute something to the advancement of any measure which might have a tendency to accelerate that happy period."

Perhaps, if he could have made a thorough campaign and extended his acquaintance and popularity throughout the county, he might have been elected, but just a month after his announcement was published he went off to the Black Hawk War (as is told in Chapter VI.) and did not return until a few days before the election, so that his canvass was limited. It was long enough, however, for him to make a record as a man of moral courage and ability. Although the great majority of the population were Democrats, he boldly declared himself a Whig, which must have cost him many votes. National issues were not usually brought into local politics, but the contest between Clay and Jackson was animated and bitter; the Democrats were despotic and intolerant towards the opposition, and were so much in the majority that a Whig had very little consideration. Lincoln has left us a brief account of the campaign, in which he says that he ran as "an avowed Clay man," and in his speeches advocated the principles and policy of Henry Clay's platform. "I am in favor of a national bank; I am in favor of an internal improvement system and a high protective tariff," he announced boldly, and it must have cost him a severe struggle with his ambition to have placed himself upon the unpopular side and to have joined a hopeless minority at the beginning of his political career; but he obeyed his convictions, and nothing better illustrates the stuff of which the man was made.

The returns show that out of 2168 votes Lincoln received only 657, less than one-third of the whole. In New Salem, where he lived, he received all but three of the votes cast, although a few months later Andrew Jackson carried the same precinct with 185 votes against 70 for Henry Clay.

This was the only time that Abraham Lincoln was defeated on a direct vote of the people. He was greatly gratified by the evidence of his popularity, and was confident that if he could extend his acquaintance through the county he would be successful at the next election; but how was he to get a living in the mean time? Offutt's store had failed and he was out of employment. He describes the situation himself as follows: "He was now without means and out of business, but was anxious to remain with his friends, who had treated him with so much generosity, especially as he had nothing elsewhere to go to. He studied what he should do; thought of learning the blacksmith trade, thought of trying to study law, rather thought he could not succeed at that without a better education."

It was a crisis in his life, but he was conscious of his own ability and his faith in himself was strong. If his judgment had been equally accurate, he would have been saved great anxiety and trouble, for it was at this time that he was induced to go into the mercantile speculation which turned out so badly. He managed to make a living, however, and pull through, and when the campaign of 1834 came it was a matter of course that he should again be a candidate for the Legislature. He spent almost the entire summer electioneering, most of the time in those parts of the county where he was least acquainted, appealing for votes in his own peculiar way. It was a rough-and-tumble canvass, often in company with other candidates. "Wherever he saw a crowd of men, he joined them, and he never failed to adapt himself to their point of view in asking for votes," says one of his friends. "If the degree of physical strength was their test for a candidate, he was ready to lift a weight or wrestle with any countryside champion. If the amount of grain a man could cut would recommend him, he seized the cradle and showed the swath he could cut." One of the farmers of the neighborhood tells this story:

"He [Lincoln] came to my house, near Island Grove, during harvest. There were some thirty men in the field. He got his dinner and went out in the field where the men were at work. I gave him an introduction, and the boys said that they could 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.' He took hold of the cradle, and led the way all the round with perfect ease. The boys were satisfied, and I don't think he lost a vote in the crowd."

Thirteen candidates were contesting for the four seats in the Legislature and all were engaged in the campaign, besides candidates for Governor, for Congress, and for the State Senate. When the votes were counted, Lincoln's name headed the list. He received 1376, considerably more than a majority, and more than double the total he had received at the election two years before.

At this point Lincoln's political career actually begins, and although during his first session in the Legislature he showed no particular talent and took a modest position in the background, he secured the respect of his colleagues both for his abilities and his character, and among them were several men who afterwards became almost as prominent as himself. They included future governors, generals, senators, judges, and cabinet ministers. In this and future sessions of the Legislature he sat beside Stephen A. Douglas, afterwards United States Senator and Democratic candidate for the Presidency against Lincoln; Edward D. Baker, Senator from both Illinois and Oregon, who was killed at the battle of Ball's Bluff; Orville H. Browning, afterwards United States Senator and Secretary of the Interior; John A. McClernand, for several years a member of the House of Representatives and a major-general in the Civil War; John Logan, father of the late General John A. Logan; Robert M. Cullom, father of Senator Shelby M. Cullom, and others of comparative distinction. These were new associates for the poor young man, and more to his taste as well as his advantage. From this time he cultivated men from whom he could learn, but never lost his affection for those who had shared his humble hardships. He was re-elected to the Legislature four successive terms, in 1836, 1838, and 1840, and spent eight years in the service of his State, making many mistakes and enjoying several triumphs, growing in the esteem and confidence of the people, extending his usefulness and influence, and gradually advancing to a high place among the leaders of the Whig party, which was rapidly gaining in strength.

Among the interesting features of Lincoln's legislative career is a declaration in favor of a limited woman suffrage which appeared in his "handbill" in the campaign of 1836, when he was twenty-seven years old and unmarried.

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

The Legislature of 1836 and 1837 was responsible for many "wild-cat" schemes which brought disaster upon the people of the young State, and Lincoln was guilty of the same folly and lack of judgment which characterized his associates. It should be said, however, that he was enthusiastically supported by his constituents and public opinion generally, and believed that he was doing the best that could be done for the community.

His greatest triumph was won as the leader of the movement to remove the State capital from Vandalia to Springfield. Being given the management of the bill, he applied all his energy and ability to the task, here showing the same strategic genius which was afterwards demonstrated in the management of the war. His plan of campaign was simple but shrewd. He first persuaded the Legislature to pass a bill removing the capital from Vandalia, then he secured a succession of votes upon other locations, and finally succeeded in carrying a direct vote in favor of Springfield, which was accomplished by his personal influence. Jesse K. Dubois, who represented another part of the State, says, "We gave the vote to Lincoln because we liked him, because we wanted to oblige him, our friend, and because we wanted to recognize him as our leader," which is a great tribute considering the fact that the delegation from Sangamon County was an unusually strong one. It was famous for the stature of its nine members, which, combined, was fifty-five feet. The delegation was known as "the Long Nine."

When the law was signed the citizens of Springfield tendered a banquet to their representatives, and among the toasts was this:

"Abraham Lincoln: one of Nature's noblemen; he has fulfilled the expectations of his friends and disappointed the hopes of his enemies."

In 1838 and again in 1840 Lincoln was the Whig candidate for Speaker of the House of Representatives, which was the highest tribute his colleagues could pay him and illustrates his rapid advancement in influence. Nor did he take this leading position without rivalry. There were strong men among the Whigs of Illinois even at that date. That party represented the wealth, education, and culture of the State, as the Republican party does to-day, while the masses of the people were Democrats. Notwithstanding this rivalry, he pushed rapidly forward, and the qualities which he had shown from the beginning of his political career were strengthened by experience, knowledge, and self-confidence. His kindly disposition and good-nature, his wit and his stories, his willingness to accept any responsibility that might be thrust upon him or undertake any duty, no matter how laborious or disagreeable, and his determination to succeed in everything he attempted made him a leader; while his skill in debate, in parliamentary tactics, and political organization made his co-operation necessary to the success of any movement.

Lincoln organized the Whig party in Illinois. Up to 1832 the convention system was unknown. In that year it was introduced by the Democrats and was denounced with great vigor by the Whigs, who declared it an invention "intended to abridge the liberties of the people by depriving individuals of the privilege of becoming candidates for office, and depriving them of the right to vote for candidates of their own choice;" nevertheless, all good Whigs, and Lincoln among them, immediately recognized the advantages of the new plan. It concentrated the strength of a party upon single candidates for offices instead of allowing it to be scattered and wasted upon several who voluntarily offered themselves. The "machine" organized by Jackson's supporters worked well; Lincoln watched it closely, and although he was reluctant to accept the principle, he was compelled to admit the advantage of the practice, and prepared, at the request of his fellow-Whigs, a confidential circular which formed the basis of a remarkably complete and effective organization of the Whig party in the State.

In 1841, the year previous to his marriage, Lincoln was offered the Whig nomination for Governor, but declined it. He also declined renomination for the Legislature the following year, and became a candidate for Congress. He did not wait to be invited, but sought the nomination and managed his own canvass. He never believed in concealing his ambition; he was never guilty of false modesty; he held that it was an honorable aspiration, and acted accordingly; but, to his disappointment, Sangamon County was instructed for his friend and colleague, Edward D. Baker. He was the more sensitive because he, "a stranger, friendless, uneducated, penniless boy, working on a flat-boat at ten dollars a month," he wrote a friend, had "been put down here as the candidate of pride, wealth, and aristocratic family distinction. Yet so, chiefly, it was. There was, too, the strangest combination of church influence against me. Baker is a Campbellite, and therefore, as I suppose, with few exceptions, got all that church. My wife has some relations in the Presbyterian churches and some with the Episcopal churches; and therefore, wherever it would tell, I was set down as either the one or the other, while it was everywhere contended that no Christian ought to go for me, because I belonged to no church, was suspected of being a deist, and had talked about fighting a duel. With all these things Baker, of course, had nothing to do. Nor do I complain of them. As to his own church going for him, I think that was right enough, and as to the influences I have spoken of in the other, though they were very strong, it would be grossly untrue and unjust to charge that they acted upon them in a body, or were very near so. I only mean that those influences levied a tax of a considerable per cent. upon my strength throughout the religious community."

Lincoln was appointed a delegate to the Convention and instructed to look after Baker's interests. This, he said, "was a good deal like acting as bridegroom for a man who has cut you out;" but he was loyal and energetic and as skilful as usual, although unsuccessful. J. M. Ruggles, one of the delegates, says, "The ayes and noes had been taken and there were fifteen votes apiece, and one in doubt that had not arrived. That was myself. I was known to be a warm friend of Baker, representing people who were partial to Hardin. As soon as I arrived Baker hurried to me, saying, 'How is it? It all depends on you.' On being told that, notwithstanding my partiality for him, the people I represented expected me to vote for Hardin, and that I would have to do so, Baker at once replied, 'You are right—there is no other way.' The Convention was organized, and I was elected secretary. Baker immediately arose and made a most thrilling address, thoroughly arousing the sympathies of the Convention, and ended by declining his candidacy. Hardin was nominated by acclamation and then came the episode.

"Immediately after the nomination, Mr. Lincoln walked across the room to my table and asked if I would favor a resolution recommending Baker for the next term. On being answered in the affirmative, he said, 'You prepare the resolution, I will support it, and I think we can pass it.' The resolution created a profound sensation, especially with the friends of Hardin. After an excited and angry discussion, the resolution passed by a majority of one."

Thus Lincoln defeated his own prospects for a Congressional nomination for four years. Baker was elected in 1844, and then his turn came in 1846, when the Democrats gave him for a competitor the famous Methodist circuit rider, Peter Cartwright, one of the best-known and beloved men of that period on the frontier. He was the highest type of the itinerant preacher. For sixty years he travelled on horseback throughout the Western country, marrying the young people, baptizing their children, burying the dead, preaching by the wayside and in the forests, and when he died in 1872, at eighty-seven years of age, the record of his ministry showed that he had admitted to the church twelve thousand persons, had preached fifteen thousand sermons, and a procession of one hundred and twenty-nine children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren followed him to his grave. With all his piety and devotion to the Methodist Church, Peter Cartwright was an ardent admirer of Andrew Jackson and a Democrat of the most intolerant pro-slavery type. He probably had a larger acquaintance than any other man in the State, was an exhorter of magnetic intensity, and his energy was unsurpassed; but, nevertheless, Lincoln defeated him by 1511 majority when Henry Clay carried the district by only 914.

When the Thirtieth Congress was called to order on December 6, 1847, Abraham Lincoln answered to his name. The rolls also bore the name of Stephen A. Douglas, but before the House of Representatives met he had been elected to the United States Senate. Lincoln was the only Whig member from Illinois. In those days the House met in the old Hall of Representatives, now used for statuary, and he was so unfortunate as to draw one of the most undesirable seats far in the background. He was assigned to the Committee on Post-Offices and Post-Roads, at the foot of the list, attended its meetings regularly, and occasionally took part in the debates on the bills appropriating money for the support of the postal service and other matters pertaining to that committee. He also was a member of the Committee on Expenditures in the War Department, which, however, never met. He devoted a good deal of time trying to secure amendments to the laws relating to bounty lands for soldiers, a subject of which he had some personal knowledge, having himself received a patent for some wild land in Iowa. He looked after certain grants of land made to railroads in Illinois, and endeavored to protect actual settlers who might possibly have been interfered with. During his first session he made the personal acquaintance of but few members, and lived at a quiet Congressional boarding-house kept by a Mrs. Sprigg, on Capitol Hill, where his messmates were Joshua R. Giddings, of Ohio, and several other Whigs. His favorite place of resort was the post-office of the House of Representatives, where he was in the habit of meeting and exchanging stories with several congenial spirits. Among them were Robert Toombs and Alexander H. Stephens, who, like himself, were destined to become conspicuous figures in the great impending drama. Several writers have described encounters between Lincoln and Jefferson Davis at this period, but they were imaginary. Although Mr. Davis was appointed to the Senate the same year, it is not probable that he ever met the obscure member of the Lower House from Illinois.

From the recollections of his colleagues we have many incidents and anecdotes of more or less interest, which show that he retained the same unassuming, simple habits that characterized him as a member of the Legislature.

Daniel Webster, who was then in the Senate, used occasionally to have Lincoln at one of his pleasant Saturday breakfasts, where the Western Congressman's humorous illustrations of the events of the day, sparkling with spontaneous and unpremeditated wit, would give great delight to "the solid men of Boston" assembled around the festive board. At one time Lincoln had transacted some legal business for Mr. Webster connected with an embryo city laid out where Rock River empties into the Mississippi. Mr. Fletcher Webster had gone there for a while; but Rock Island City was not a pecuniary success, and much of the land on which but one payment had been made reverted to the original owners. Lincoln had charged Mr. Webster for his legal services ten dollars, which the great expounder of the Constitution regarded as too small a fee, and he would frequently declare that he was still Lincoln's debtor.

The librarian of the United States Supreme Court remembers that Lincoln came to the library one day for the purpose of procuring some law-books which he wanted to take to his room for examination. He placed them in a pile on the table, tied them up with a large bandanna handkerchief from his pocket, and, putting a stick which he had brought with him through a knot in the handkerchief, shouldered his burden and marched off to his room. In a few days he returned the books in the same way.

He saw very little of the social life of the capital, although Mrs. Lincoln was with him during the long session. His experience was similar to that of the average green Congressman who comes to Washington unheralded and who is compelled to live on his salary. The only social adventure of which we have any knowledge was in attending the inaugural ball, March 4, 1849, of which Mr. E. B. Washburne writes,—

"A small number of mutual friends, including Mr. Lincoln, made up a party to attend Taylor's inauguration ball together. It was by far the most brilliant inauguration ball ever given. Of course Mr. Lincoln had never seen anything of the kind before. One of the most modest and unpretending persons present, he could not have dreamed that like honors were to come to him almost within a little more than a decade. He was greatly interested in all that was to be seen, and we did not take our departure until three or four o'clock in the morning. When we went to the cloak and hat room, Mr. Lincoln had no trouble in finding his short coat, which little more than covered his shoulders, but after a long search was unable to find his hat. After an hour he gave up all idea of finding it. Taking his cloak on his arm, he walked out into Judiciary Square, deliberately adjusted it on his shoulders, and started off bareheaded for his lodgings. It would be hard to forget the sight of that tall and slim man, with his short cloak thrown over his shoulders, starting for his long walk home on Capitol Hill, at four o'clock in the morning, without any hat on."

After the election of President Taylor, in 1848, Lincoln, being the only Whig member of Congress from Illinois, was required to recommend candidates for office and practically controlled the patronage of the State. He was not a civil service reformer. Even while he was President he adhered to the time-honored doctrine that the victors in politics, as in war, were entitled to the spoils, while at the same time he endeavored to get the most efficient men available for the public offices and recognized merit as the first claim for promotion. While in Congress he performed his duty with absolute fairness to his political foes and with loyalty to his political friends so far as he was able to control appointments. Some of his recommendations are unique, for example:

"I recommend that William Butler be appointed Pension Agent for the Illinois agency when the place shall be vacant. Mr. Hurst, the present incumbent, I believe has performed his duties very well. He is a decided partisan, and I believe expects to be removed. Whether he shall be, I submit to the Department. This office is not confined to my district, but pertains to the whole State; so that Colonel Baker has an equal right with myself to be heard concerning it. However, the office is located here (at Springfield), and I think it is not probable that any one would desire to remove from a distance to take it."

In another instance he writes the Secretary of Interior, "I recommend that Walter Davis be appointed Receiver of the Land Office at this place, whenever there shall be a vacancy. I cannot say that Mr. Herndon, the present incumbent, has failed in the proper discharge of any of the duties of the office. He is a warm partisan, and openly and actively opposed to the election of General Taylor. I also understand that since General Taylor's election he has received a reappointment from Mr. Polk, his old commission not having expired. Whether this is true the records of the Department will show. I may add that the Whigs here almost universally desire his removal."

In another case he forwards the recommendations of the man whom he does not prefer, with an endorsement calling attention to the importance of the writers, and adding, "From personal knowledge I consider Mr. Bond every way worthy of the office and qualified to fill it. Holding the individual opinion that the appointment of a different gentleman would be better, I ask especial attention and consideration of his claims, and for the opinions expressed in his favor by those over whom I can claim no superiority."

In all his communications to the Executive Department concerning appointments to office, he never claims a place because of his position and influence; nor does he demand patronage on behalf of his party or his State; nor does he ask for the removal of an incumbent, although in several cases he says that it is desired by the public and the patrons of the office. He always puts himself in the position of an adviser to the government, and modestly expresses his opinion as to the best man for appointment. If there are two candidates, he describes their qualifications with evident candor and fairness.

Lincoln was tendered the Governorship of Oregon, and might have been Commissioner of the General Land Office under President Taylor, but, fortunately, resisted the temptation.

Amos Tuck, of New Hampshire, in his memoirs, says, "In December, 1847, I made my first visit to Washington, and at the same time took my seat as a member of the House of Representatives. The representation of New Hampshire was equally divided, or rather was half Democratic, Messrs. Peaslee and Johnson, and half opposition, Mr. Wilson, Whig, and myself, Independent Democrat. It was the second Congress in Mr. Polk's administration, and the Mexican War was at its height. Robert C. Winthrop was Speaker.

"The most distinguished man by far, member of the House, was John Quincy Adams. By general consent he had for years occupied the seat of his choice, one of the two largest on the floor, in the second row of seats, the first fronting the Speaker at the left. New members were anxious to see Mr. Adams, the honored ex-President, politically the most distinguished man of the country. He was old and feeble, but clear in mind and decided in all his views as he had been in the days of his vigor. He made one short speech early in the session, but could be heard only by a few near him, and in the month of February following died in the Speaker's room at the Capitol.

"I was late in arriving.... In the fourth seat at my left sat a new member from Illinois, the only Whig from that State, a tall, awkward, genial, good fellow, the future President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln. He was then thirty-nine years old, bore all the signs of scanty preparation for influential position, and excited attention only as the lone star of Illinois Whigs and as an agreeable specimen of frontier character. He was not regarded as a man of mark, nor did the thought seem to have entered his own mind of ever taking a high position in the country. Mr. Lincoln had no opportunity, if he had then had the ability, which I do not think he possessed at that time, of distinguishing himself. I remember that the good-will of his acquaintances was strong in his favor. He made one set speech, near the close of the session, wherein he made sundry telling points against the Democrats, delivering it in the open area in front of the clerk's desk, and created much amusement by the aptness of his illustrations, walking around in front of the Democratic members, singling out individuals specially responsible for unsound and inconsistent doctrines. He was good-natured, enjoyed his own wit, heartily joined in the amusement he excited in others, and sat down amid the cheers of his friends. The friendship formed between Mr. Lincoln and myself in that Congress continued through his life. Alexander H. Stephens and Robert Toombs, of Georgia, were likewise members of the Thirtieth Congress, as they had been of the previous Congress. They were both Whigs, the leading men in the House of their party in the South, but more wedded to slave interests than to their political party."

His term in Congress ended on March 4, 1849, and he was not a candidate for re-election. A year before he had contemplated the possibility of entering the field again. He then wrote to his friend and partner, Herndon, "It is very pleasant for me to learn from you that there are some who desire that I should be re-elected. I made the declaration that I would not be a candidate again, more from a wish to deal fairly with others, to keep peace among our friends, and keep the district from going to the enemy, than for any cause personal to myself, so that, if it should so happen that nobody else wishes to be elected, I could not refuse the people the right of sending me again. But to enter myself as a competitor of others, or to authorize any one so to enter me, is what my word and honor forbid."

Upon returning from Congress in the spring of 1849, Lincoln renewed his law practice and devoted himself exclusively to it, taking no part in politics and having all that he could do in court until there was a great upheaval in the political situation caused by the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. This so aroused his patriotism and indignation against the Democratic party that he went back to the stump and the committee-room and again became the recognized leader of the Whig party in Illinois. All through Illinois and other States in the neighborhood the Whig politicians turned to him for counsel, which was due to his reputation for wisdom and sagacity. It has been said that Lincoln intended to retire from politics, and he wrote a friend that he "had lost interest until the repeal of the Missouri Compromise;" but his ambition as well as his interest soon revived, for we find him in 1854 the most prominent candidate of the Whig party for the United States Senate.

There was an exciting canvass of the State. He entered into it with great enthusiasm, spoke in nearly every county, and it was agreed by all concerned that if the Republican and Anti-Nebraska Democrats should carry the Legislature, Lincoln would be elected to succeed General Shields. He expected it himself, and his defeat brought him more disappointment and chagrin than any other event in his life. It was a painful experience, but he accepted the result with his usual good-nature and philosophy, and his conduct under the most trying circumstances added lustre to his reputation as a patriotic, honorable, unselfish man, and he never forgot his obligation to those who stood by him in the contest.

With his usual candor, he had addressed letters to the Whigs and Anti-Nebraska men who had been elected to the Legislature, asking their support. The replies were almost without exception favorable and in some cases enthusiastic. He was personally known to almost every member, and by his voice and advice had assisted all the Whig candidates during the campaign. But, unfortunately, a complication arose which embarrassed them and him. He had been elected as one of the members from Sangamon County, and the Constitution of the State contained a clause making members of the Legislature and other officials ineligible to the United States Senate. The highest authorities pronounced this provision unconstitutional because the Senate alone was authorized to decide the qualifications of its own members and a State Legislature had no jurisdiction over the subject; but, rather than run the risk of taking the election into the courts, Lincoln decided to resign, relying upon the majority of 650 votes, which had been cast for him, to elect another Whig in his place. Very little interest was taken in the canvass. The Democrats appeared inclined to let the contest go by default. That disarmed the leaders of the Whig party and made the rank and file indifferent. For the first and only time in his political career Lincoln was caught napping. The Democrats nominated a candidate at the very last moment, plunged into a hasty but energetic canvass, got out a full vote, and elected his successor by 60 majority, which lost the Legislature to the Whigs and left them dependant upon their Free-Soil Democratic allies. The members of that party in other parts of the State were very indignant and blamed Lincoln for this unlooked-for result.

He was still further embarrassed by the unauthorized and impertinent act of a small group of abolitionists who met in Springfield before the session of the Legislature, passed resolutions endorsing Lincoln as their candidate for the Senate, and, without consulting him, appointed him a member of their State Central Committee. There were only twenty-six in the assembly,—earnest, eager men, and radical in their views,—and although Lincoln's policy of recognizing the constitutional authority for slavery was well known to them, they admired his ability and the able fight he was making against the extension of the system in the Territories. He was not aware that his name appeared in the list of the abolitionist committee until several weeks after the Convention had adjourned. In fact, very little notice was taken of its meetings, and its action was discovered by the Democrats before it was known to the Whigs. Lincoln immediately wrote a letter declining to serve and saying that he was perplexed to understand why his name was used, because he supposed that his position on the slavery question was not at all satisfactory to their party. But, notwithstanding his disavowal, five Anti-Nebraska Democrats refused under any circumstances to support him for Senator, but cast their votes for Lyman Trumbull. Lincoln was voted for by the other Free-Soilers and Shields by the Democrats. In a letter to Mr. Washburne, written on the evening after the election, Lincoln gives this description of the close of the fight:

"In the mean time our friends, with a view of detaining our expected bolters, had been turning from me to Trumbull until he had risen to 35 and I had been reduced to 15. These would never desert me except by my direction; but I became satisfied that if we could prevent Matteson's election one or two ballots more, we could possibly not do so a single ballot after my friends should begin to return to me from Trumbull. So I determined to strike at once; and accordingly advised my remaining friends to go for him, which they did, and elected him on that, the tenth ballot. Such is the way the thing was done. I think you would have done the same under the circumstances, though Judge Davis, who came down this morning, declares he never would have consented to the 47 (opposition) men being controlled by the 5. I regret my defeat moderately, but am not nervous about it. Perhaps it is well for our grand cause that Trumbull is elected."

And it turned out well for Lincoln, too, because if he had been elected Senator at that time he would never have taken the part he did in the organization of the Republican party, he would never have had the joint debate with Senator Douglas, and in all probability would not have been elected President. Lincoln resumed the practice of his profession, but did not retire from politics again. He took an active interest in every campaign, devoting much of his time to committee work and to the preparation of political literature, extending his acquaintance and increasing his popularity. In the winter of 1855 he attended a meeting of Free-Soil editors at Decatur, who decided upon organizing a Republican party in Illinois and called a convention of all who believed in resisting the extension of slavery to meet at Bloomington in May.

Lincoln was present, made a remarkable speech, which is described in Chapter III., was sent as a delegate to the First National Republican Convention at Philadelphia, and, much to his surprise, received 110 votes for Vice-President on the ticket with Frémont. He was made an elector, canvassed the State thoroughly, making more than fifty set speeches during the campaign, and served as a member of the State Committee.

Mr. Horace White, editor of the New York Evening Post, then connected with the Chicago Tribune, gives his recollections of Lincoln in the campaign: "I was Secretary of the Republican State Committee of Illinois during some years when he was in active campaign work. He was often present at meetings of the committee, and took part in the committee work. His judgment was very much deferred to in such matters. He was one of the shrewdest politicians in the State. Nobody had more experience in that way, nobody knew better than he what was passing in the minds of the people. Nobody knew better how to turn things to advantage politically, and nobody was readier to take such advantage, provided it did not involve dishonorable means. He could not cheat people out of their votes any more than he could out of their money. Mr. Lincoln never gave his assent, so far as my knowledge goes, to any plan or project for getting votes that would not have borne the full light of day.

"I never heard him express contempt for any man's honest errors, although he would sometimes make a droll remark or tell a funny story about them. Deference to other people's opinions was habitual to him. There was no calculation, no politics in it. It was part and parcel of his sense of equal rights. His democracy was of the unconscious kind—he did not know anything different from it."

In the fall of 1858 there was an election of the Illinois Legislature which would choose a successor to Senator Douglas, whose term of service was to expire March 3, 1859. The Republican party at that time was thoroughly organized and presented a united and enthusiastic front, with encouraging prospects of victory, and Lincoln was again its candidate for the United States Senate. The sympathy of his associates and the people generally over his defeat three years before, their appreciation of his services, their admiration for his ability, and their confidence in his integrity and judgment made him the unanimous choice, and for the first time in history the State Republican Convention passed a resolution to that effect. Then followed the most extraordinary canvass that has ever taken place in any of the States of the Union,—the joint debate between Lincoln and Douglas which is described in Chapter III., followed by Lincoln's second defeat for the Senate. Many of Lincoln's friends believed that he might have been elected but for the interference of Horace Greeley, Seward, Colfax, Burlingame, and other earnest Republicans and antislavery men of national prominence, who urged the people of Illinois to support Douglas because he had opposed the Buchanan administration and had been denounced by the slave-holders of the South. But, while Lincoln was deeply wounded by this betrayal of what he considered a vital political principle, he realized that the existing apportionment of the State made his election improbable because it had been based upon the census of 1850 and gave the southern and Democratic counties an excessive representation over the northern Republican counties, which had more rapidly increased in population. The Republican State officers were chosen by a considerable majority, but the Democrats had eight majority in the Legislature, and Mr. Douglas was elected.

Lincoln had passed through an intense canvass, equally trying to his physical and mental endurance, and his strength as well as his temper were sorely tried; but he was never more composed, patient, and philosophical, and to his friends he wrote hopeful and cheerful letters, taking greater satisfaction in the reputation he had made and the results he had accomplished than he would have felt in a commission as United States Senator. As he told many people, he was not trying to defeat Douglas for Senator so much as to prevent his election to the Presidency, and he succeeded in doing so. The attention of the entire country had been drawn to the canvass in Illinois, Lincoln's name had become known everywhere throughout the country, and, as a Chicago editor wrote him, "You have at once sprung from the position of a capital fellow and a leading lawyer of Illinois to a national reputation."

Another friend wrote him, "You have made a noble canvass, which, if unavailing in this State, has earned you a national reputation and made you friends everywhere."

Lincoln's own view of the case is expressed in a letter to a friend as follows: "I wished, but I did not much expect, a better result.... I am glad I made the late race. It gave me a hearing on the great and durable question of the age, which I could have had in no other way; and though I now sink out of view, and shall be forgotten, I believe I have made some marks which will tell for the cause of civil liberty long after I am gone."

The folly of the Eastern Republicans in encouraging the election of Douglas was demonstrated immediately after the election, when that gentleman started upon a tour through the South and made a series of speeches in which he endeavored to convince the slave-holders that he was their best friend and should be their candidate for the Presidency. At the same time Lincoln was invited to speak in the Eastern States, and, after his address in Cooper Institute, New York City, made a tour through New England, creating great interest and making many friends. He became a national character, and his advice was sought by national leaders, to whom his sagacity was immediately apparent. He spent a great deal of time and wrote many letters during the winter of 1858-59, harmonizing the Republican party, concentrating its efforts, and reconciling local prejudices and preferences which conflicted and imperilled its success at the next election. He seemed gifted with foresight that was almost prophetic, for he pointed out with extraordinary accuracy the probable policy which would be pursued by the Democrats, and his suggestions as to the best means for the Republicans to adopt were broad, wise, and statesmanlike. For example, referring to a provision adopted by Massachusetts to restrict naturalization, he wrote, "Massachusetts is a sovereign and independent State, and it is no privilege of mine to scold her for what she does. Still, if from what she has done an inference is sought to be drawn as to what I would do, I may, without impropriety, speak out. I say, then, that, as I understand the Massachusetts provision, I am against its adoption in Illinois, or in any other place where I have a right to oppose it. Understanding the spirit of our institutions to aid at the elevation of men, I am opposed to whatever tends to degrade them. I have some little notoriety for commiserating the oppressed condition of the negro; and I should be strangely inconsistent if I could favor any project for curtailing the existing rights of white men, even though born in different lands and speaking different languages from myself."

He wrote from Springfield to Schuyler Colfax (afterwards Vice-President of the United States), July 6, 1859, "Besides a strong desire to make your personal acquaintance, I was anxious to speak with you on politics a little more fully than I can well do in a letter. My main object in such conversation would be to hedge against divisions in the Republican ranks generally, and particularly for the contest of 1860. The point of danger is the temptation in different localities to 'platform' for something which will be popular just there, but which, nevertheless, will be a firebrand elsewhere, and especially in a national convention. As instances, the movement against foreigners in Massachusetts; in New Hampshire, to make obedience to the fugitive-slave law punishable as a crime; in Ohio, to repeal the fugitive-slave law; and squatter sovereignty in Kansas. In these things there is explosive matter enough to blow up half a dozen national conventions, if it gets into them; and what gets very rife outside of conventions is very likely to find its way into them."

The idea of making Lincoln a Presidential candidate seems to have occurred to a great many people at about the same time, and shortly after his inauguration a regiment might have been organized of the friends who first named him. There are, however, some letters preserved which show that the suggestion had been made to him early in 1859, long before the Cooper Institute address; indeed, immediately after the close of the Senatorial fight in 1858 an editorial friend in Illinois wrote him as follows: "I would like to have a talk with you on political matters, as to the policy of announcing your name for the Presidency, while you are in our city. My partner and myself are about addressing the Republican editors of the State on the subject of a simultaneous announcement of your name for the Presidency."

To this Lincoln replied, "As to the other matter you kindly mention, I must in candor say that I do not think myself fit for the Presidency. I certainly am flattered and gratified that some partial friends think of me in that connection; but I really think it best for our cause that no concerted effort, such as you suggest, should be made."

It would seem from other remarks made at the time that he was planning another fight with Douglas and had the patience to wait six years to renew the contest. He wrote several friends that he intended to fight in the ranks, and declined to be a candidate for the Senate against Trumbull; but while he was writing those letters, about January 1, 1860, there was a conference at Springfield of the Republican leaders of the State, said to have been called by Mr. Norman B. Judd, at which a serious and organized effort was begun to secure his nomination. One of the gentlemen present says, "We asked him if his name might be used in connection with the nomination. With characteristic modesty, he doubted whether he could get the nomination even if he wished it, and asked until the next morning to answer us whether his name might be announced. The next day he authorized us, if we thought proper to do so, 'to place him in the field.' In answer to a question whether he would accept a nomination for Vice-President if he could not be put on the first place on the ticket, he replied that if his name were used for the office of President he would not permit it to be used for any other office, no matter how honorable it might be."

From this time Lincoln exerted every proper means to secure success. He did not repose idly in his Springfield office and allow his friends to do the work, but was quite as active and vigilant in his own behalf as any of his supporters, and managed the campaign himself. He had no funds, however, no literary bureau, no head-quarters or personal organization; nearly every letter he sent out on the subject was written with his own hand, and he used plain and characteristic language asking for the support of his friends in Illinois and other States. Whether his intention was to disarm jealousy, or whether he actually believed that his nomination was impossible, he intimated to several of his correspondents that he desired to make a brave show at the Chicago Convention because of the prestige it would give him in his future fight for the Senate. And to another he wrote, "I am not in a position where it would hurt much for me not to be nominated on the national ticket, but I am where it would hurt some for me not to get the Illinois delegates."

He even sent money from his own small means to pay the expenses of friends who were working in his interest. On March 10, 1860, he wrote to a gentleman in Kansas, "Allow me to say that I cannot enter the ring on the money basis,—first, because in the main it is wrong; and secondly, I have not and cannot get the money. I say in the main the use of money is wrong, but for certain objects in a political contest is both right and indispensable. With me, as with yourself, this long struggle has been one of great pecuniary loss. I now distinctly say this; if you shall be appointed a delegate to Chicago I will furnish one hundred dollars to bear the expense of the trip."

Nevertheless, Kansas instructed her delegation for Seward, whereupon Lincoln wrote a consoling letter to his friends and said, "Don't stir them up to anger, but come along to the Convention and I will do as I said about expenses." There is nothing to show whether the offer was accepted, but, with his usual gratitude for favors received or intended, he appointed his Kansas friend to a lucrative office within ten days after his inauguration, and frequently consulted him about the patronage in that State.

The Illinois State Convention gave Lincoln a hearty endorsement and sent an enthusiastic delegation to Chicago composed of personal friends of great ability, political experience, and personal influence, and by a combination with Chase from Ohio, Cameron from Pennsylvania, Bates from Missouri, and other anti-Seward candidates, he was nominated for the office of President of the United States. The credit of his success was claimed by many; several accounts of bargains have passed into history, and other fictitious explanations for his nomination have been printed from time to time, but we have the authority of David Davis, Norman B. Judd, and other friends who were authorized to speak for him, as well as his own testimony, that after the Convention adjourned he was free from all obligations except the gratitude he was glad to offer to his supporters.