have been more impassive in his manner.
He was an animate, but not an animated, bean-pole.
He poured out a steady flow of words-three to Douglas
's two--in a simple and semi-conversational tone.
He attempted no witticisms and indulged in no oratorical claptrap.
His address was pure argument.
's manner was one of excitement, and accompanied and emphasized by almost continuous bodily movement.
His hands and his feet, and especially that pliable face of his, were all busy talking.
He said sharp things, evidently for their immediate effect on his audience, and showed that he was not only master of all the arts of the practical stump orator, but was ready to employ them.
But the most noticeable difference was in the voices of the men. Douglas
spoke first, and for the first minute or two was utterly unintelligible.
His voice seemed to be all worn out by his speaking in that long and principally open-air debate.
He simply bellowed.
But gradually he got command of his organ, and pretty soon, in a somewhat laborious and painful way, it is true, he succeeded in making himself understood.
's voice, on the contrary, was without a quaver or a sign of huskiness.
He had been speaking in the open air exactly as much as Douglas
, but it was perfectly fresh, not a particle strained.
It was a perfect voice.
Those who wanted to understand Douglas
had to press up close to the platform from which he was speaking, and there was collected a dense, but not very deep, crowd.
There was no crowding in front of Lincoln
when he was speaking.
He could be