e present, and in that way to earn security for the
future. He himself said, using a forcible and apt illustration
borrowed from his early life: "The pilots on our Western rivers steer
from _point to point_, as they call it--setting the course of the boat
no farther than they can see; and that is all I propose to do in the
great problems that are set before me."

Such a policy as that outlined by Lincoln, embraced in his homely and
characteristic phrase of "pegging away," caused him to be greatly
misunderstood and even distrusted in some quarters. As the time for the
new election drew near, there was very pronounced dissatisfaction with
him, particularly in New England. It was said of him, among other
things, that he "lacked the essential qualities of a leader." Mr. Henry
Greenleaf Pearson, the biographer of Governor Andrew of Massachusetts,
illuminates this point in a few instructive sentences. "To comprehend
this objection, which to us seems so astonishingly wide of the mark,"
says Mr. Pearson, "we must realize that whenever a New Englander of that
generation uttered the word 'leader' his mind's eye was filled with the
image of Daniel Webster. Even those who called the fallen statesman
'Ichabod' could not forget his commanding presence, his lofty tone about
affairs of state, his sonorous professions of an ideal, his whole _ex
cathedra_ attitude. All these characteristics supplied the aristocratic
connotation of the word 'leader.' Of the broad democratic meaning of the
term, the world had as yet received no demonstration. That Lincoln was
in very truth the 'new birth of a new soil,' Lowell, with the advantage
of literary detachment, was one of the first to discover and proclaim,
both in his political essays and in the splendid stanzas of the
'Commemoration Ode.'"

While Lincoln seemingly gave little heed to the question of a second
Presidential term, it must not be inferred that he was indifferent
regarding it. His nature was one of those strong ones which, though
desiring approbation, are yet able to live without it. His whole life
had been a schooling in self-reliance and independence, and the last
three years especially had rendered him an adept in that stern
philosophy. But he was thoroughly human, and deep down in his nature was
a craving for human sympathy and support. Knowing that he had done his
best and was entitled to the full approval of his countrymen, he no
doubt felt that it would be a pleasant thing to