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.