Speeches, Debates, and Interviews Volume 2 Appendix
Appendix
A LEAF FROM MY SCRAP BOOK
Julia Griffiths, ed., Autographs For Freedom (Rochester, 1854), 165-73.
May, 1849.
SAMUEL R. WARD AND FREDERICK DOUGLASS.
PERHAPS a fitter occasion never presented itself, nor was more properly
availed of, for the exhibition of talent, than when Frederick Douglass and
Samuel R. Ward debated the “question” whether the Constitution was or
not a pro-slavery document.
With the “question” at issue we have, at present, nothing to do; and
with the arguments so far only as they exhibit the men.
Both eminent for talent of an order (though differing somewhat in cast)
far above the common level of great men.
If any inequalities existed, they served rather to heighten than diminish
the interest of the occasion, giving rise to one of the severest contests
of mind with mind that has yet come to my notice.
Douglass, sincere in the opinions he has espoused, defends them with a
fervor and eloquence that finds scarcely a competitor.
In his very look—his gesture—in his whole manner, there is so much
of genuine, earnest eloquence, that they leave no time for reflection. Now
you are reminded of one rushing down some fearful steep, bidding you
follow; now on some delightful stream, still beckoning you onward.
In either case, no matter what your prepossessions or oppositions, you
for the moment, at least, forget the justness or unjustness of his cause and
obey the summons, and loath, if at all. you return to your former post.
Not always, however, is he successful in retaining you. Giddy as you
may be with the descent you have made, delighted as you are with the
pleasure afforded, with the elysium to which he has wafted you, you return
too often dissatisfied with his and your own impetuosity and want of
firmness. You feel that you had had only a dream, a pastime, not a reality.
This great power of momentary captivation consists in his eloquence of
manner—his just appreciation of words.
In listening to him, your whole soul is fired—every nerve strung—
every passion inflated—every faculty you possess ready to perform at a
moment’s bidding. You stop not to ask why or wherefore.
’Tis a unison of mighty yet harmonious sounds that play upon your
imagination; and you give yourself up, for a time, to their irresistible
charm.
At last, the cataract which roared around you is hushed, the tornado is
passed, and you find yourself sitting upon a bank (at whose base roll but
tranquil waters), quietly meditating that why, amid such a display of
power, no greater effect had really been produced.
After all, it must be admitted, there is a power in Mr. Douglass rarely to
be found in any other man.
With copiousness of language, and finish of diction, when even ideas
faii, words come to his aid—arranging themselves, as it were, so com-
pletely, that they not only captivate, but often deceive us for ideas; and
hence the vacuum that would necessarily occur in the address of an ordi-
nary speaker is filled up, presenting the same beautiful harmony as do the
lights and shades of a picture.
From Mr. Douglass, in this, perhaps, as much as in any other respect,
does Mr. Ward differ. Ideas form the basis of all Mr. Ward utters. Words
are only used to express those ideas.
If words and ideas are not inseparable, then, as mortar is to the stones
that compose the building, so are his words to his ideas.
In this, I judge, lays Mr. Ward’s greatest strength. Concise without
abruptness—without extraordinary stress, always clear and forcible; if spar-
ing of ornament, never inelegant. In all, there appears a consciousness of
strength, developed by close study and deep reflection, and only put forth
because the occasion demanded,—a power not only to examine but to
enable you to see the fairness of that examination and the justness of its
conclusions.
You feel Douglass to be right, without always seeing it; perhaps it is
not too much to say, when Ward is right you see it.
His appeals are directed rather to the understanding than the imagina-
tion; but so forcibly do they take possession of it, that the heart unhesitat-
ingly yields.
If, as we have said, Mr. Douglass seems as one whirling down some
steep descent whose very impetuosity impels;—ere you are aware of it, it is
the quiet serenity of Mr. Ward, as he points up the rugged ascent, and
invites you to follow, that inspires your confidence and ensures your
safety. Step by step do you with him climb the rugged steep; and, as you
gain each succeeding eminence, he points you to new scenes and new
delights;——now grand—sublime; now picturesque and beautiful;—always
real. Most speakers fail to draw a perfect figure. This point I think Mr.
Ward has gained. His figures, when done, stand out with prominence,
possessing both strength and elegance.
Douglass’ imagery is fine—vivid—often gaudily painted. Ward’s
pictures—bold, strong, glowing.
Douglass speaks right on; you acknowledge him to have been on the
ground—nay, to have gone over the field; Ward seeks for and finds the
comers; sticks the stakes, and leaves them standing; we know where to find
them.
Mr. Douglass deals in generals; Mr. Ward reduces everything to a
point.
Douglass is the lecturer; Ward the debater. Douglass powerful in
invective; Ward in argument. What advantage Douglass gains in mimicry
Ward recovers in wit.
Douglass has sarcasm, Ward point.
Here, again, an essential difference may be pointed out:—
Douglass says much, at times, you regret he uttered. This, however, is
the real man, and on reflection you like him the better for it. What Ward
says you feel to be but a necessity, growing out of the case,——that it ought to
have been said—that you would have said precisely the same yourself,
without adding or diminishing a single sentence.
Douglass, in manner, is at all times pleasing; Ward seldom less so;
often raises to the truly majestic, and never descends below propriety. If
you regret when Douglass ceases to speak, you are anxious Ward should
continue.
Dignity is an essential quality in an orator—I mean true dignity.
Douglass has this in an eminent degree; Ward no less so, coupled with
it great self-possession. He is never disconcerted—all he desires he says.
In one of his replies to Mr. Douglass I was struck with admiration, and
even delight, at the calm, dignified manner in which he expressed himself,
and his ultimate triumph under what seemed to me very peculiar circum-
stances.
Douglass’ was a splendid effort—a beautiful effusion. One of those
outpourings from the deeps of his heart of which he can so admirably give
existence to.
He had brought down thunders of well-merited applause; and sure I
am, that a whisper, a breath from almost any other opponent than Mr.
Ward, would have produced a tumult of hisses.
Not so, however, now. The quiet, majestic air, the suppressed richness
of a deep-toned, but well-cultivated voice, as the speaker paid a few well-
timed compliments to his opponents, disturbed not, as it had produced, the
dead stillness around.
Next followed some fine sallies of wit, which broke in on the calm.
He then proceeded to make and accomplished one of the most finished
speeches to which I have ever listened, and sat down amidst a perfect storm
of cheers.
It was a noble burst of eloquence,—the gatherings up of the choicest
possible culled thoughts, and poured forth, mingling with a unison of
brilliant flashes and masterly strokes, following each other in quick succes-
sion; and though felt—deeply felt, no more to be described than the vivid
lightning’s zig-zag, as produced from the deep-charged thunder-cloud.
If Douglass is not always successful in his attempts to heave up his
ponderous missiles at his opponents, from the point of his descent, he
always shows determination and spirit.
He is often too far down the pass, however, (herculean though he be,)
for his intent.
Ward, from the eminence he has gained, giant-like, hurls them back
with the force and skill of a practised marksman, almost invariably to the
detriment of his already fallen victim.
In Douglass you have a man, in whose soul the iron of oppression has
far entered, and you feel it.
He tells the story of his wrongs, so that they stand out in all their naked
ugliness.
In Ward, you have one with strong native powers,——I know of none
stronger; superadded a careful and extensive cultivation; an understanding
so matured, that fully enables him to successfully grapple with men or
errors, and portray truth in a manner equalled by few.
After all, it must be admitted, both are men of extraordinary powers of
mind.
Both well qualified for the task they have undertaken.
I have, rather than anything else, drawn these outline portraits for our
young men, who can fill them up at leisure.
The subjects are both fine models, and may be studied with profit by
all,—especially those who are destined to stand in the front rank.
William J. Wilson
Note—It has been some years since the above sketch was drawn; and
though my impressions, especially of Mr. Douglass, [have] undergone
some slight change since,—seeing in him enlarged, strengthened, and
more matured thought, still I think, on the whole, the careful observer will
attest substantially to its correctness.