Both of these men are
ambitious. Lincoln is of the industrial faith which is backboning the
Republican party, and Douglas is of the vaguer and less materialistic
faith which for so long has appealed to American Democracy in terms and
promises of all kinds of freedoms and independencies.... I would give my
life almost to see you again, but somehow I do not know how to bring it
about, while at the same time I am living in hope that it may be so, and
trusting that you will see me in a different light, and that I can give
you assurances which will justify your vision. I am not very well and
have been consulting a physician, since coming West, who seems to think
that my nerves are in bad condition and that I am worn by striving and
by life. It is curious too that Douglas, though bulky and fat, seems to
me a tired man. Perhaps both of us have lost the way; and it may be true
that later he will have the true vision as I did in you. I wish you
could call me back to you. My mind wavers as I write. Affectionately,
James."
With the exchange of these letters I merged my feelings into other
things. The roar of Illinois and of the country tended to keep my mind
from brooding on Isabel. There was a melancholy resignation in the words
of Lincoln upon his own defeat for the Senatorship, which were in key
with my own grief and helped me to sublimate it.
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