No one man of honest intentions visited him without feeling the better for it and being impressed with his ability, his courage, and his confidence. From the beginning he never doubted his own success. He realized that the Democratic party was hopelessly split and that, while the factions, if combined, might embrace a majority of the voters of the country, the Republicans would have a plurality, and his reasoning was so plausible that he convinced his visitors of the truth of his convictions. He never showed the slightest annoyance at the attacks that were continually made upon his reputation and record, and demonstrated his coolness, self-poise, and wisdom by declining to defend himself or offer explanations. His theory was expressed to a friend who wrote him with great concern about a charge that had been made against his integrity. "I have made this explanation to you as a friend," he wrote, "but I wish no explanation made to our enemies. What they want is a squabble and a fuss, and that they can have if we explain, and they cannot have it if we don't." The greater number of inquiries related to his position and intentions towards slavery, and to every one he gave a similar answer, that he had defined his position again and again in his speeches before his nomination, and "Those who will not read or heed what I have already publicly said would not read or heed a repetition of it. 'If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.'" He kept his finger upon the pulse of the country, and none of the managers of either party was so well informed as to the situation and sentiment in different sections as he. The Republican politicians soon discovered this fact and came to him more and more for advice and instruction. Even Thurlow Weed, who was supposed to be the shrewdest politician in the country, recognized a master and sought counsel from him regarding the management of the campaign in New York. Wherever he detected a weak spot, he sent a word of warning and advice: wherever there were local dissensions, he restored harmony with his tact and good-nature. Thus was Lincoln the manager of his own campaign; more so, perhaps, than any man who was ever elected President. But at the same time he made one great mistake. He had heard the threat of secession so long that he had grown indifferent to it, and he told everybody that "The people of the South have too much sense to attempt the ruin of the government." The election occurred on November 6, 1860, and the result was what he had expected since his nomination. The Republican electors did not receive a majority by nearly a million votes, but the division of the Democrats left them a plurality.