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 receive that approval by being called to serve them for another term.  To one friend he remarked, using his old figure of “the people’s attorney,” “If the people think I have managed their case for them well enough to trust me to carry it up to the next term, I am sure I shall be glad to take it.”  He evidently dreaded the rebuke that would be implied in a failure to be renominated; yet it seemed unbecoming to him, in the critical condition of the country, to make any personal effort to that end.  To these considerations were added his extreme weariness and longing for release from his oppressive burdens.  He was also, as Mr. Welles records in his Diary, “greatly importuned and pressed by cunning intrigues.”