Since I saw you last fall, I have often thought of writing you as it was then understood I would, but on reflection I have always found that I had nothing new to tell you– All has happened as I then told you I expected it would– Baker's declining, Hardins taking the track, and so on2

If Hardin and I stood precisely equal—that is, if neither of us had been to congress, or if we both had—it would only accord with what I have always done, for the sake of peace, to give way to him; and I expect I should do it– That I can voluntarily postpone my pretentions, when they are no more than equal to those to which they are postponed, you have yourself seen– But to yield to Hardin under present circumstances seems to me – as nothing else than yielding to one who would gladly sacrifice me altogether– This I would rather not submit to– That Hardin is talented, energetic, usually generous and magnanimous, I have, before this, affirmed to you and do not now deny– You know that my only argument is that "turn about is fair play''– This he, practically at least, denies–

If it would not be taxing you too much, I wish you would write me, telling the aspect of things in your county, or rather your district; and also send the names of some of your whig neighbours, to whom I might, with propriety write– Unless I can get some one to do this, Hardin with his old franking list, will have the advantage of me– My reliance for a fair shake (and I want nothing more) in your county is chiefly on you, because of your position and standing, and because I am acquainted with so few others– Let this, be strictly confidential, ^&^ any letter you may write me shall be the same if you desire– Let me hear from you soon–3