They saw him surrounded on all sides by
enemies. The South hated him. The northern Democrats with southern
ideas hated him. The fanatics hated him. The Republican party which he
had stepped upon with giant contempt hated him. In eight years of
existence it had gathered to itself the contemptible factions that he
had satirized. They had united now in the supreme purpose of defeating
him. He was appealing for the same principles to which he had always
been devoted. He was defending the Union as he had defended it since the
days when I saw Jackson put his arm around him, and look with paternal
pride in his eyes. He knew the heart and the will of the South. He was
trying to tell it to the North. He felt that his own election would
prevent disunion. He asked people to believe that he wished to be
elected, not to gratify his personal ambition, but for the sake of the
Union.
It was all in vain. The avalanche, loosened years before by stray
adventurers building fires for their little kettles, and running
thoughtlessly over weakened attachments, was now moving down on Douglas
and the Union. The October election showed that he was defeated.
Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana were carried by the Republicans in the
state elections. Douglas was speaking in the South. His life had been
threatened. An attempt was made to wreck his train.
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