Written November 19, 1893.
My answer is _Robert G. Ingersoll_.
One gets the conviction of this man’s superiority by simply being in his
presence. The outer man makes the impression of greatness upon the mind.
It is not the silent assertion of a splendid form however, that persuades
us. A large body serves to accent and emphasize a large mind, but heroic
physical proportions are not essential to greatness. The king of men
to-day is not he who, like Saul, “from his shoulders and upward is higher
than any of his people.” Dr. Watts truly said: “The mind’s the standard of
the man.”
But we cannot think of Robert G. Ingersoll with a diminutive physical
equipment. His ample form radiates the man. But it is the royalty of his
intellect that makes him great. It is in the kingdom of mind that he is
master. Every mental tool fits his hand. He has wit, learning,
imagination, eloquence, philosophy, and that rare quality, sense. He is a
great lawyer, a great orator, a great poet, and a great man. He is too
large for conventionalities, too large to respect what smaller minds have
declared right, what weaker minds have made holy.
The intellectual grandeur of the man is no less apparent than his moral
fearlessness. He is greatest where most men are little—in the face of a
powerful and domineering superstition. He knows that the highest manhood
makes the trappings of religion but the playthings of feeble minds.
His love of liberty is only equalled by his passion for truth, and he
listens to the timid whisper of doubt with the chivalrous attention that
others give to confident faith. He strips things of their clothes, of
fashions, of falsehood, of pretension, and demands that they stand for
what they are and no more. He has the sincerity of greatness and his mind
wears the white robe of spotless integrity.
Above all living men he possesses the power of utterance. He has the
highest literary instinct, and never marries a mean word to a noble
thought. He uses language as Phidias used marble. He is the literary
artist of the age, and knows all the colors in the brain. He can make
words laugh and weep.
This man has a large heart. He is filled with human sympathy. He does not
care for gods, but he pities men. The springs of feeling feed the mighty
rivers of thought that cross the continent of his mind. There is about him
the warmth, the kindness of summer—Nature’s season of forgiveness.
He has the highest philosophy—that of cheerfulness. The clouds never cover
all his sky. He is the apostle of good humor, and preaches the gospel of
sunshine to dry the tears of the world.
He is true to himself, loyal to his head and his heart, and upon his brow
shines the jewel of self-respect.
Robert G. Ingersoll has the greatness of genius. It is useless to try to
account for an intellectual giant. Dowered by Nature, parents are of small
account. We cannot find the secret of his marvelous power by digging in a
graveyard.
‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐
Man is what he is, because his origin was what it was.
‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐
God cannot be put into the national Constitution without putting liberty
out of it.
‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐
We do not want holy books, but true ones; not sacred writings, but
sensible writings.