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 succession; 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. [Illustration: (signature) William J. Wilson] NOTE.--It has been some years since the above sketch was drawn; and though my impressions, especially of Mr. Douglass, has 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. "Who is my Neighbor?" It gives me great pleasure to express my interest in your objects, by the following sentiment: Sympathy for the slave,--the clearest exhibition in modern times of the spirit which, in the parable of the Samaritan, first illumined the wrong of oppression, and the divineness of brotherly love. [Illustration: (signature) Th. Starr King] Consolation for the Slave. Slave though thou art to unfeeling power, Till wrong shall reach her final hour, Mourn not as one on whom the day Will never shed a healing ray. The star of hope, that leads the dawn, Appears, and night will soon be gone.