In the midst of this political and social awakening of the new capital and the quickened interest and high hopes of leading citizens gathered there from all parts of the State, there came into the Springfield circles Miss Mary Todd of Kentucky, twenty-one years old, handsome, accomplished, vivacious, witty, a dashing and fascinating figure in dress and conversation, gracious and imperious by turns.  She easily singled out and secured the admiration of such of the Springfield beaux as most pleased her somewhat capricious fancy.  She was a sister of Mrs. Ninian W. Edwards, whose husband was one of the “Long Nine.”  This circumstance made Lincoln a frequent visitor at the Edwards house; and, being thus much thrown in her company, he found himself, almost before he knew it, entangled in a new love affair, and in the course of a twelvemonth engaged to marry her.

Much to the surprise of Springfield society, however, the courtship took a sudden turn.  Whether it was caprice or jealousy, a new attachment, or mature reflection will always remain a mystery.  Every such case is a law unto itself, and neither science nor poetry is ever able to analyze and explain its causes and effects.  The conflicting stories then current, and the varying traditions that yet exist, either fail to agree or to fit the sparse facts which came to light.  There remains no dispute, however, that the occurrence, whatever shape it took, threw Mr. Lincoln into a deeper despondency than any he had yet experienced, for on January 23, 1841, he wrote to his law partner, John T. Stuart: 

“For not giving you a general summary of news you must pardon me; it is not in my power to do so.  I am now the most miserable man living.  If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on earth.  Whether I shall ever be better, I cannot tell; I awfully forebode I shall not.  To remain as I am is impossible; I must die or be better.”

Apparently his engagement to Miss Todd was broken off, but whether that was the result or the cause of his period of gloom seems still a matter of conjecture.  His mind was so perturbed that he felt unable to attend the sessions of the legislature of which he was a member; and after its close his intimate friend Joshua F. Speed carried him off for a visit to Kentucky.  The change of scene and surroundings proved of great benefit.  He returned home about midsummer very much improved, but not yet completely restored to a natural mental equipoise.  While on their visit to Kentucky, Speed had likewise fallen in love, and in the following winter had become afflicted with doubts and perplexities akin to those from which Lincoln had suffered.  It now became his turn to give sympathy and counsel to his friend, and he did this with a warmth and delicacy born of his own spiritual trials, not yet entirely overmastered.  He wrote letter after letter to Speed to convince him that his doubts about not truly loving the woman of his choice were all nonsense.