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Selected American history
The Life of Abraham Lincoln
By Henry Ketcham
CHAPTER XIII.
TWO THINGS THAT LINCOLN MISSED.
Lincoln's intimate friends have noted that he seemed to be under the
impression that he was a man of destiny. This phrase was a favorite
with Napoleon, who often used it of himself. But the two men were so
widely different in character and career, that it is with reluctance
that one joins their names even for the moment that this phrase is
used. Napoleon was eager to sacrifice the whole of Europe to satisfy
the claims of his personal ambition; Lincoln was always ready to stand
aside and sacrifice himself for the country. The one was selfishness
incarnate; the other was a noble example of a man who never hesitated
to subordinate his own welfare to the general good, and whose career
came to its climax in his martyrdom. Whether the presidency was or was
not, Lincoln's destiny, it was certainly his destination. Had anything
occurred to thrust him one side in this career, it would have prevented
his complete development, and would have been an irreparable calamity
to his country and to the world.
Twice in his life he earnestly desired certain offices and failed to
get them. Had he succeeded in either case, it is not at all probable
that he would ever have become President. One therefore rejoices in the
knowledge that he missed them.
After his term in congress he was, in a measure, out of employment.
Political life is like to destroy one's taste for the legitimate
practise of the law, as well as to scatter one's clients. Lincoln was
not a candidate for reelection. Upon the election of General Taylor it
was generally understood that the democrats would be turned out of
office and their places supplied by whigs. The office of Land
Commissioner was expected to go to Illinois. At the solicitation of
friends he applied for it, but so fearful was he that he might stand in
the way of others, or impede the welfare of the state, that he did not
urge his application until too late. The President offered him the
governorship of the territory of Oregon, which he declined. Had he been
successful in his application, it would have kept him permanently out
of the study and practise of the law. It would have kept his residence
in Washington so that it would not have been possible for him to hold
himself in touch with his neighbors. So far as concerned his
illustrious career, it would have side-tracked him. He himself
recognized this later, and was glad that he had failed in this, his
first and only application for a government appointment.
About six years later he again missed an office to which he aspired.
This was in 1854, the year of the speeches at Springfield and Peoria
described in the last chapter. Shields, the man of the duel with broad-
swords, was United States senator. His term of office was about to
expire and the legislature would elect his successor. The state of
Illinois had been democratic,--both the senators, Shields and Douglas,
were democrats,--but owing to the new phases of the slavery question,
the anti-slavery men were able to carry the legislature, though by a
narrow margin.
Lincoln had been very useful to the party during the campaign and had
been elected to the legislature from his own district. He wanted to be
senator. He was unquestionably the choice of nearly all the whigs. Had
an election taken place then, he would undoubtedly have been elected.
But a curious obstacle intervened. There was a provision in the
constitution of Illinois which disqualified members of the legislature
from holding the office of United States senator. Lincoln was therefore
not eligible. He could only become so by resigning his seat. There
appeared to be no risk in this, for he had a safe majority of 605. It
seemed as though he could name his successor. But there are many
uncertainties in politics.
The campaign had been one of unusual excitement and it was followed by
that apathy which is the common sequel to all excessive activity. The
democrats kept quiet. They put up no candidate. They fostered the
impression that they would take no part in the special election. Only
one democrat was casually named as a possible victim to be sacrificed
to the triumph of the whigs. He was not a popular nor an able man, and
was not to be feared as a candidate for this office.
But the unusual quietness of the democrats was the most dangerous sign.
They had organized a "still hunt." This was an adroit move, but it was
perfectly fair. It is not difficult to guess whose shrewdness planned
this, seeing that the question was vital to the career of Douglas. The
democratic party preserved their organization. The trusted lieutenants
held the rank and file in readiness for action. When the polls were
opened on election day, the democrats were there, and the whigs were
not. At every election precinct appeared democratic workers to
electioneer for the man of their choice. Carriages were provided for
the aged, the infirm, and the indifferent who were driven to the polls
so that their votes were saved to the party.
The whigs were completely taken by surprise. It was too late to talk up
their candidate. They had no provision and no time to get the absent
and indifferent to the polls. The result was disastrous to them.
Lincoln's "safe" majority was wiped out and a Douglas democrat was
chosen to succeed him.
It may be surmised that this did not tend to fill the whigs with
enthusiasm, nor to unite the party. From all over the state there arose
grumblings that the Sangamon contingent of the party had been so
ignobly outwitted. Lincoln had to bear the brunt of this discontent.
This was not unnatural nor unreasonable, for he was the party manager
for that district. When the legislature went into joint session Lincoln
had manifestly lost some of his prestige. It may be said by way of
palliation that the "still hunt" was then new in politics. And it was
the only time that Lincoln was caught napping.
Even with the loss to the whigs of this seat, the Douglas democrats
were in a minority. Lincoln had a plurality but not a majority. The
balance of power was held by five anti-Nebraska democrats, who would
not under any circumstances vote for Lincoln or any other whig. Their
candidate was Lyman Trumbull. After a long and weary deadlock, the
democrats dropped their candidate Shields and took up the governor of
the state. The governor has presumably a strong influence with the
legislature, and this move of the partisans was a real menace to the
anti-slavery men. Lincoln recognized the danger, at once withdrew his
candidacy, and persuaded all the anti-slavery men to unite on Trumbull.
This was no ordinary conciliation, for upon every subject except the
Nebraska question alone, Trumbull was an uncompromising democrat. The
whig votes gave him the necessary majority. The man who started in with
five votes won the prize. Lincoln not only failed to get into the
senate, but he was out of the legislature.
In commenting on this defeat of Lincoln for the United States senate,
the present writer wishes first of all to disavow all superstitions and
all belief in signs. But there is one fact which is worthy of mention,
and for which different persons will propose different explanations. It
is a fact that in all the history of the United States no person has
been elected direct from the senate to the presidency. This is the more
interesting because the prominent senator wields a very powerful
influence, an influence second only to that of the President himself.
When one considers the power of a leading senator, one would suppose
that that was the natural stepping-stone to the presidency. But history
does not support this supposition. It teaches the opposite.
Many prominent senators have greatly desired to be president, but no
one has succeeded unless he first retired from the senate. Among the
more widely known aspirants to the presidency who have been
unsuccessful, are Jackson (his first candidacy), Clay, Webster,
Douglas, Morton, Seward, Sherman, and Blaine. So many failures may be a
mere coincidence. On the other hand there may be a reason for them.
They seem to teach that the senate is not the best start for the
presidential race, but the worst.
The history of ethics teaches that the most determined hostility
against the best is the good, not the bad. So it may be that in the
politics of this country, the greatest obstacle to the highest position
may be the next highest.
These facts, of course, do not prove that if Lincoln had been elected
senator in 1854, or in 1858 when he was the opposing candidate to
Douglas, he would therefore have failed of election to the presidency.
He may have been an exception. He may have been the only one to break
this rule in over a hundred years. But the sequel proved that he was
best where he was. He remained among his people. He moused about the
state library, enduring criticism but mastering the history of slavery.
He kept a watchful eye on the progress of events. He was always alert
to seize an opportunity and proclaim in trumpet tones the voice of
conscience, the demands of eternal righteousness. But he waited. His
hour had not yet come. He bided his time. It was not a listless
waiting, it was intensely earnest and active. Far more than he could
realize, he was in training for the stupendous responsibilities which
should in due time fall upon him. It is fortunate for all that he did
not learn to limit his powers to the arena of the senate, which, though
great, is limited. He kept near to the people. When his hour struck, he
was ready.
For this reason we call his two failures escapes. He did not get the
government land office, he did not get the senatorship. He did get the
presidency, and that in the crisis of the history of the nation. What
is more, when he got that he was thoroughly furnished unto every good
work.
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