ILLINOIS DECLARES FOR THE RAIL-SPLITTER.
Henceforth Abraham Lincoln was a marked man. He had sprung into national
prominence. Limited as had been his tenure of office--including only two
years in the lower house of Congress--it is remarkable how suddenly he
came to be recognized as a leader. But at the East he was known only by
reputation. This was soon remedied. He received an invitation to lecture
in New York, or rather in Mr. Beecher’s church in Brooklyn. He was well
pleased to accept, but stipulated that he should be permitted to speak
on a political subject. When he reached New York, he found that a change
had been made in the place where he was to speak, and the Cooper
Institute, where at intervals nearly every eminent man in the country
has been heard, had been engaged for his début.
It was not without a feeling of modest shyness that he surveyed the
immense audience gathered to hear him, and he was surprised to see the
most cultivated citizens of the great metropolis upon the platform.
Among them was William Cullen Bryant, who was president of the meeting,
and in that capacity introduced him as “an eminent citizen of the West,
hitherto known to you only by reputation.”
Mr. Lincoln commenced his address in low tones, but his voice became
louder and his manner more confident as he proceeded. His speech was an
elaborate argument to prove that the original framers of the American
Government intended that the Federal Government should exercise absolute
control of the Federal territories, so far as the subject of slavery was
concerned, and had never surrendered this high privilege to local
legislation. This he established by incontrovertible proof, and in so
doing quite upset Senator Douglas’ theory of Squatter Sovereignty.
Incidentally he vindicated the right of the Republican party to exist.
I have not room to quote from this remarkable speech. I am afraid I have
already introduced more extracts from speeches than my young readers
will enjoy. They are necessary, however, if we would understand what
were the views of Mr. Lincoln, and what made him President.
The next day Mr. Lincoln’s speech was printed in full in two prominent
papers--the _Tribune_ and the _Evening Post_, accompanied by comments of
the most favorable character. The first was edited by Horace Greeley,
the latter by the poet Bryant, who was nearly as conspicuous a
politician as a poet. “No man ever before made such an impression on his
first appeal to a New York audience,” said the _Tribune_.
Robert Lincoln, Mr. Lincoln’s oldest son, was a student at Harvard, and
his father travelled into New England to visit him. He was besieged by
applications to speak at Republican meetings, and accepted a few
invitations, being everywhere cordially received. This visit no doubt
bore fruit, and drew many voters to his standard, when he had been
formally presented to the country as a candidate for the Presidency.
That my readers may learn how he spoke, and how he appeared, I quote
from the Manchester (N. H.) _Mirror_, an independent paper:
“He spoke an hour and a half with great fairness, great apparent candor,
and with wonderful interest. He did not abuse the South, the
administration, or the Democrats, or indulge in any personalities, with
the exception of a few hits at Douglas’ notions. He is far from
prepossessing in personal appearance, and his voice is disagreeable; and
yet he wins your attention and good-will from the start. He indulges in
no flowers of rhetoric, no eloquent passages. He is not a wit, a
humorist, or a clown; yet so great a vein of pleasantry and good-nature
pervades what he says, gilding over a deep current of practical argument
he keeps his hearers in a smiling mood, with their mouths open ready to
swallow all he says. His sense of the ludicrous is very keen; and an
exhibition of that is the clincher of all his arguments,--not the
ludicrous acts of persons, but ludicrous ideas. Hence he is never
offensive, and steals away willingly into his train of belief persons
who were opposed to him. For the first half hour his opponents would
agree with everything he uttered; and from that point he began to lead
them off little by little, until it seemed as if he had got them all
into his fold. He displays more shrewdness, more knowledge of the
masses of mankind, than any public speaker we have heard since Long Jim
Wilson left for California.”
On the day succeeding his speech in Norwich, he met in the cars a
clergyman named Gulliver, who sought his acquaintance.
“Mr. Lincoln,” he said, “I thought your speech last evening the most
remarkable I ever heard.”
“You do not mean this?” said Mr. Lincoln, incredulously.
“Indeed, sir,” said Gulliver, “I learned more of the art of public
speaking last evening than I could from a whole course of lectures on
rhetoric.”
Mr. Lincoln was puzzled, for he was not a man to accept extravagant
compliments.
“I should like very much to know what it was in my speech which you
thought so remarkable,” he said.
“The clearness of your statements,” answered Gulliver, “the unanswerable
style of your reasoning, and especially your illustrations, which were
romance and pathos, and fun and logic, all welded together.”
“I am much obliged to you for this,” said Mr. Lincoln. “I have been
wishing for a long time to find some one who would make this analysis
for me. It throws light on a subject which has been dark to me. I can
understand very readily how such a power as you have ascribed to me will
account for the effect which seems to be produced by my speeches. I hope
you have not been too flattering in your estimate. Certainly I have had
a most wonderful success for a man of my limited education.”
“Mr. Lincoln, may I say one thing to you before we separate?” asked Mr.
Gulliver later.
“Certainly; anything you please.”
“You have spoken of the tendency of political life in Washington to
debase the moral convictions of our representatives there, by the
admixture of considerations of mere political expediency. You have
become, by the controversy with Mr. Douglas, one of our leaders in this
great struggle with slavery, which is undoubtedly _the_ struggle of the
nation and the age. What I would like to say is this, and I say it with
a full heart: _Be true to your principles, and we will be true to you,
and God will be true to us all!_”
“I say amen to that! amen to that!” answered Mr. Lincoln, taking his
hand in both his own, while his face lighted up sympathetically.
I may as well mention here the first public occasion on which Mr.
Lincoln’s name was mentioned for the Presidency.
On the 9th and 10th of May the Republican State Convention met at
Decatur. Mr. Lincoln was present as a spectator, but he attracted the
attention of Gov. Oglesby, who rose, and said: “I am informed that a
distinguished citizen of Illinois, and one whom Illinois will ever
delight to honor, is present; and I wish to move that this body invite
him to a seat on the stand.”
Public interest and curiosity were aroused. Who was this distinguished
citizen?
The Governor paused a moment, and then uttered the name of Abraham
Lincoln.
Instantly there was a roar of applause, there was a rush to where the
astonished Lincoln sat, he was seized, and the crowd being too dense to
press through, he was literally passed over the heads and shoulders of
the great throng until breathless he found himself on the platform.
Willing or unwilling he was literally for the time being “in the hands
of his friends.”
Later on Gov. Oglesby rose once more and said: “There is an old Democrat
outside who has something which he wishes to present to the Convention.”
“What is it?” “What is it?” “Receive it!” shouts the crowd.
The door of the wigwam opens, and an old man, bluff and hearty, comes
forward, bearing on his shoulder two small rails, surmounted by a
banner, with this inscription:--
TWO RAILS
From a lot made by Abraham Lincoln and John Hanks, in the Sangamon
Bottom, in the year 1830.
This old man was John Hanks himself! His entrance was greeted with
tumultuous applause.
“Lincoln! Lincoln! A speech!” shouts the crowd.
Mr. Lincoln seemed amused. He rose at length and said:
“Gentlemen, I suppose you want to know something about those things,”
(the rails). “Well, the truth is, John Hanks and I did make rails in
the Sangamon Bottom. I don’t know whether we made those rails or not;
fact is, I don’t think they are a credit to the makers,” (laughing as he
spoke). “But I do know this: I made rails then, and I think I could make
better ones than these now.”
Before the Convention dissolved, a resolution was passed, declaring that
“Abraham Lincoln is the first choice of the Republican party of Illinois
for the Presidency, and instructing the delegates to the Chicago
Convention to use all honorable means to secure his nomination, and to
cast the vote of the State as a unit for him.”
So Abraham Lincoln, “the rail-splitter,” as he was familiarly called,
was fairly in the field as a candidate for the highest office in the
gift of the nation.