of democracy. If a newly elected
congressman wishes to continue in office, he is condemned to do
something great.

What qualities had Douglas which would single him out from the crowd
and impress his constituents with a sense of his capacity for public
service? What had he to offset his youth, his rawness, and his
legislative inexperience? None of his colleagues cared a fig about his
record in the Illinois Legislature and on the Bench. In Congress, as
then constituted, every man had to stand on his own feet, unsupported
by the dubious props of a local reputation.

There was certainly nothing commanding in the figure of the gentleman
from Illinois. "He had a herculean frame," writes a contemporary,
"with the exception of his lower limbs, which were short and small,
dwarfing what otherwise would have been a conspicuous figure.... His
large round head surmounted a massive neck, and his features were
symmetrical, although his small nose deprived them of dignity."[163]
It was his massive forehead, indeed, that redeemed his appearance from
the commonplace. Beneath his brow were deep-set, dark eyes that also
challenged attention.[164] It was not a graceful nor an attractive
exterior surely, but it was the very embodiment of force. Moreover,
the Little Giant had qualities of mind and heart that made men forget
his physical shortcomings. His ready wit, his suavity, and his
heartiness made him a general favorite almost at once.[165] He was
soon able to demonstrate his intellectual power.

The House was considering a bill to remit the fine imposed upon
General Andrew Jackson at New Orleans for contempt of court. It was a
hackneyed theme. No new, extenuating circumstances could be adduced to
clear the old warrior of high-handed conduct; but a presidential
election was approaching and there was political capital to be made by
defending "Old Hickory." From boyhood Douglas had idolized Andrew
Jackson. With much the same boyish indignation which led him to tear
down the coffin handbills in old Brandon, he now sprang to the defense
of his hero. The case had been well threshed already. Jackson had
been defended eloquently, and sometimes truthfully. A man of less
audacity would have hesitated to swell this tide of eloquence, and at
first, it seemed as though Douglas had little but vehemence to add to
the eulogies already pronounced. There was nothing novel in the
assertion that Jackson had neither violated the Constitution by
declari