er
State, burned Lawrence, destroyed the State government and filled the
whole land with tumult and bitterness. And it cost Douglas his fame and
place among the great men of the Republic.

In that critical hour for liberty, Abraham Lincoln entered upon the
scene, and challenged Douglas to a debate. It was in the summer of 1858.
Both men were candidates for the Senate--Lincoln, the leader of the new
Republican party State ticket; Douglas, the best known figure in the
land since the death of Clay and Webster. No contrast between two men
could have been greater. Lincoln was tall, angular, lanky, awkward, six
feet four inches in height. Douglas was short, thick-set, graceful,
polished, a man of fine presence, with a great, beautiful head, a high
forehead, square chin, perfectly at home on the platform, a master of
all the tricks of debate, a born king of assemblies. Lincoln was the
stronger man, Douglas the more polished. Lincoln was the better thinker,
Douglas the better orator. Lincoln relied upon fundamental principles,
Douglas wanted to win his case. Lincoln's mind was analytical, and he
loved to take a theme and unfold it, peeling it like an onion, layer by
layer. For Douglas, an oration was a pile of ideas, three hours high.
Lincoln's voice was a high dusty tenor, with small range, and
monotonous; Douglas's voice was a magnificent vocal instrument,
extending from the flute-like tone to the deepest roar. Lincoln lacked
every grace of the great orator; Douglas had every art that makes the
speaker master of his audience. Morally, Lincoln's essential qualities
were his honesty, fairness, and his spirit of good will. Intellectually,
he was a thinker, slow, intense, profound, always trying to find a
mother principle that would explain a concrete fact. He was reared in
childhood on three works--the Bible, Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress" and
the Constitution of the United States. The style of the parable of Jesus
and the simple words of the "Pilgrim's Progress" entered into his
thinking like iron into the rich blood of the physical system. His
thought was as clear as crystal, his language the simple home words,
full of music and old associations. Lincoln knew what he wanted to say,
said it, and sat down. Douglas stormed, threatened, cajoled, bribed, and
could not stop until he had carried his audience. Lincoln wanted to get
the truth out; Douglas wanted to win a crowd over. The one was a
statesman, the other was an opportunist,