Douglass’s self-made men speeches were immensely popular from 1860 until his death in 1895. Over time he altered the speech as he remade himself. Here he defines “self-made men” (and women) as radicals who wage war on injustice as they improve themselves.
SOURCE: Halifax Courier (UK), January 7, 1860
The LECTURER on rising was received with immense cheering. He said: I appear before you this evening in an unaccustomed position. I usually speak in public on the subject of American slavery, and it is supposed by some in my country that a coloured man has not thoughts worth listening to on any other subject. Partly with a view to show the fallacy of this notion, and partly to give expression to what I think sound and important views of life, I have prepared this lecture.
The various uses to which men put the brief space of human existence, and the proportion which their success in the world bears to their several opportunities, are subjects worthy of the attention and study of all men, and especially of those who have something of life still in prospect. It may not be of very serious consequence, what views of life are presented and urged upon the attention of those who have grown old and hardened in the violent and long continued abuse of life’s best privileges. Under the whole heavens there is not a sadder sight—a more affecting and melancholy spectacle—than such men present to the eye of a thoughtful man. Standing upon the very verge of misspent time, and looking back only upon wasted opportunities, a whole life wantonly flung away, such men stud the field of human existence only as warnings. And sad warnings they are. The chance to redeem the time for themselves has come and gone, never to return. The past is covered with regrets, the present is without the life and inspirations of hope, and the future is mantled in gloom.
But to the young, with all the bright world before them where to choose, the case is widely and cheeringly different. By wisdom, by firmness, and by a manly and heroic self-denial, these may wholly escape the sharp and flinty rocks, the false lights, and the treacherous shores, the tempest, and the whirlwinds of passion and sin which have sent other voyagers to the bottom wrecked and ruined. Life is the world’s greatest and most significant fact. It is the grand reality that realizes all other realities. All that man can know of the dim and shadowy past, and of the solemn and mysterious future have their explanation mainly in this one great fact. It is the now that makes the then, and the here that makes the hereafter to us all. Death itself is only predicated of life, and itself can only comprehend death.
Without trenching upon the forbidden domains of theology, I may venture to say, that if this life shall only be regarded as an individual fact, standing alone, having no relations or bearings, full and complete in itself, wholly independent of, and disconnected with, any other state or place, we still find it a most glorious fact, and crowded with arguments the most convincing, and with motives the most powerful, in favour of the construction and cultivation of a true and manly character. Such are the transcendent rewards of virtue, knowledge, wisdom, and power, even in this life, and the certain misery which a life of inaction, vice, and ignorance entails, that man is ever under the pressure of the highest motives in favour of self-culture and self-improvement.
How to make the best of this life, as a thing of and for itself,—viewed apart from those other considerations to which I have alluded,—must ever be an important and useful enquiry. For he who has best fitted himself to live and serve his fellow men on earth has best fitted himself to live and serve his God in Heaven. While in the world, a man’s work is with the world and for the world. It is something to be a man among shady trees and stately halls—but much more to be a man among men, full of the cares, labours, and joys of this life. It is good to think that in Heaven, all injustice, all wrong, all wars, all ignorance, and all vice, will be at an end; but how incomparably better is it, to wage a vigorous war upon these blighting evils and drive them from the present, so that the will of God may be done on earth as in heaven—(cheers).
There have been many daguerrotypes taken of life. They are as various as they are numerous. Each picture is coloured according to the lights and shades surrounding the artist. To the sailor, life is a ship, richly freighted, and with all sail spread to the breeze. To the farmer, life is a fertile field waving with its golden harvests. To the architect, it stands out as a gorgeous palace or temple, with its pillars, domes, towers, and turrets. To the great dramatic poet, all the world is a stage, and men but players; but to all mankind, the world is a vast school. From the cradle to the grave, the oldest and the wisest, not less than the youngest and the simplest, are but learners; and those who learn most, seem to have most to learn—(hear, hear).
The lecturer then spoke at some length on the anomalies of society; the rich and the poor, the lofty and the lowly, the happy and the miserable. But, he observed, even taking this aspect of society, humanity was a great worker, and it sometimes worked wonders. It was a master of all situations, and a match for all adversities. Notwithstanding the vast disparity between the hut and the hall, these two extremes, as well as others, did sometimes meet in life’s eventful journey, and shake hands upon a common platform of knowledge, wisdom, usefulness, virtue, honour, and fame—(cheers).
Nevertheless, life presented many puzzles. It was a puzzle that men could resemble each other so closely, yet differ so widely. Possessed of the same faculties, vitalized by the same life-blood, sustained by the same elements, yet how endless were the dissimilarities and contradictions. While some were Miltons, Bacons, and Shakespeares, illuminating and filling a wondering world with the resplendent glories of their achievements, others were as dull as lead, and rose no higher in life than a mere physical existence. The natural laws for the preservation and development of human faculties were equal, uniform, harmonious, permanent, wise, and perfect; but the subjects of them abounded in oddities, confusions, opposites, and discords—(hear, hear).
A thousand arrows might be shot at the same object, but, though united in aim, they might be divided in flight. And such was life—equal in quiver, but unequal in aim; matched when dormant, but unmatched, mismatched, and countermatched in action. The boundless realms of the past were covered with these fallen arrows. They were to be met with in history, biography, and the other walks of life. Nothing was more natural or instructive than to walk among those fallen arrows, and estimate the probable amount of skill and force requisite to bring each to its place. “The proper study of mankind is man”1 was a saying of which men never tired. It expressed a sublime truth, it came fresh to the ear every time repeated, and vibrated the soul like the lightning the wire; it was felt as well as thought; it was felt before it was thought. A single human being was of more interest than all else on earth. The solitary form of the great navigator, Franklin,2 wedged in between walls of eternal ice, cast all the gloomy wonders of the Arctic Seas into the shade. He was greater to us than the polar night or the north-west passage—there was a charm about him in the simple quality of manhood—(hear, hear).
The voyage of discovery that evening was over the broad ocean of humanity. They might not find that for which they were searching, but they would find that which would make the search worth undertaking. Men were noble and generous when they found a man who came up to their idea of a hero. The lecturer at this point stated that he once saw a swarm of little boys following the great O’Connell, from square to square in the city of Dublin, forgetful of their poverty and wretchedness, despising cold and rain and mud, swept on by a joyous enthusiasm, making the welkin ring with praises of the great Irish liberator. Why did they follow him? The answer was plain—they could not help it; they obeyed the tide of their nature.
The lecturer having enlarged on this view of human nature, he remarked that the title of his lecture that evening involved something like a solecism. He freely admitted that there could not be self-made men in the world; all had begged, borrowed, or stolen from somebody or somewhere—(cheers). Nevertheless, it was a fit and convenient title to the subject matter of his discourse.
Four points were suggested as the natural divisions of his subject. First, the class designated as self-made men. Second, the true theory of their success. Third, the advantages which they derived from the ideas and institutions of the country in which they lived. And the fourth, the criticism and disadvantages to which they were exposed.
In a certain sense, most if not all the great characters whose names shone in history, and whose deeds commanded homage and admiration might be regarded as self-made men; but he meant that evening just what the name imported: those men who had without the ordinary helps of favouring circumstances, raised themselves against great odds from the most humble and cheerless positions in life to usefulness, greatness, honour, influence, and fame. These were the men who had built the ladder on which they climbed and built as they climbed—(hear, hear). Such men, whether they were found in the factory or the college, whether at the handles of the plough or in the professor’s chair, whether at the bar or in the pulpit, whether of Anglo-Saxon or of Anglo-African origin, ought to have awarded to them the honour of being self-made men—(cheers).
There were three special explanations given as to the cause of success in self-made men. The first attributed to such men superior mental endowments, and assigned this as the true explanation of success. The second made the most of circumstances, favouring opportunities, accidents, chances, &c. The third made industry and application the great secret of success. All had truth in them, and all were capable of being pressed into untruth.
Mr. Douglass entered into a discussion of each point, but the substance of his own views on them was, that industry and application, together with a regard to favourable circumstances and opportunities were the means of success. The lecturer continued:—Such is my theory of self-made men, and, indeed, of all made men. The credit belongs and must be ascribed to brave, honest, earnest, ceaseless heart and soul industry. By this simple means—open and free to all men—whatever may be said of chances, circumstances, and natural endowments—the simple man may become wise, and the wise man become wiser. Striking examples of the truth of this position are abundant.
Hugh Miller,3 whose lamented death a few years ago cast a dark shadow, not only over this land, but across the broad Atlantic, is, perhaps, among the most striking and brilliant examples of industrious application at self-culture. In a country famous for its colleges and other institutions of learning, this brave son of toil mastered geology while wielding the heavy hammer of the mechanic. As was said of Burns, Miller was himself a college. One is really astonished, on reading this man’s works, at what he accomplished by simple, patient application, guided by a steady purpose.
The case of Elihu Burritt4—a man whose very goodness overshadows his real mental greatness—may be cited. He had to support his bodily wants by his own hands, while maintaining the struggle for an education. But this did not discourage him. Over the glowing forge, the red-hot steel, the polished anvil, amid the noise and dust of the blacksmith’s shop, this brave son of toil mastered, I dare not say how many languages, and is now admitted to be among our best American scholars.
That not many books, or very favourable circumstances are essential to successful education, is amply demonstrated in the life of Louis Kossuth. That eminent man came here from the extreme east of Europe, loaded down with Anglo-Saxon ideas, and clothed with an English eloquence which is absolutely overwhelming. When asked where and when he got his knowledge, he tells us that his school-house was an Austrian prison, that his books were the Bible and Shakespeare, and the English Dictionary, and that his schoolmaster was Louis Kossuth—(cheers and laughter).
The United States has produced no self-made man more worthy of mention than Benjamin Bannecker,5 the black astronomer of the State of Maryland. With honest pride I turn to this black sage as in part blotting out the charge of natural inferiority so often brought against the negro race. You may know his history. He was black—for slavery had not in his day robbed the negro in America of his colour, as well as of his liberty. Bannecker was distinguished as a mathematician, and was among the surveyors who laid out the present capital of the United States—where freedom has been “laid out” ever since. In the corn field, and by the roadside, this sable son of toil picked up an education which brought him to the favourable notice of eminent men on both sides of the Atlantic. He held a creditable correspondence with a man no less distinguished than Thomas Jefferson, one of the early presidents of the United States. At that time presidents were men, and not as now mere platforms. Bannecker was an astronomer as well as a surveyor, and calculated almanacs. One of his almanacs he sent to Mr. Jefferson, which brought him the following letter in return:—
PHILADELPHIA, AUGUST 30, 1790.
Sir,—I thank you sincerely for your letter and the almanac it contains. Nobody wishes more than I do to see such proofs as you exhibit that nature has given our black brethren talents equal to those of other colours of men, and that the appearance of a want of them is owing merely to the degraded condition of their existence both in Africa and in America. I have taken the liberty of sending your almanac to Monsieur Condorcet, secretary of the Academy of Science at Paris, and member of the Philanthropic Society, because I considered it as a document to which your whole colour had a right for their justification against the doubts which have been entertained of them.
I am, with great esteem, Sir,
Your most obedient,
THOMAS JEFFERSON.
William Dietz,6 of Albany, another black man, now living, has risen from the humble condition of a servant in a private family, to be the manager of an estate worth three million dollars. This black man (for he too is black) who would be read out of the human family by the Notts, Gliddens, Mortons, and other American ethnological writers, is admitted to be one of the best designers and draftsmen in the state of New York. He is not only a draftsman but an inventor, and a very ingenious one. He has recently invented a bridge for spanning the Hudson at Albany, which is calculated to overcome all the objections scientific men have raised in behalf of navigation against the erection of a draw-bridge at that point. This is not all: he has invented and planned a railroad for Broadway, New York city, equally obviating the presence of dust, smoke, noise, and horses, in that grand thorough-fare, and should any railway be allowed there, it will be on the plan suggested and modelled by William Dietz, of Albany. An engraving of this railway has been published and commended by the Scientific American. Men read of the inventions of Mr. Dietz, but do not know what I know, and what the American people ought to know, that the inventor is a black man. His achievement if known, would do more to elevate the popular estimate of the coloured race than any number of learned desertations on the natural equality of races. Nothing in logic is so stubborn, and here is a strong one certainly.
There too, stands the bright example of Toussaint L’Ouverture. He is confessed to have been a brave and generous soldier, a clear-headed, calm and sagacious statesman, and the noble liberator and law giver of his brave and dauntless people. A slave during fifty of the best years of his life. A poor scholar, yet rising up in troublous times. I will not extol his merits. He is already a hero of history, poetry, and eloquence. Wordsworth has encircled his memory with a halo of fadeless glory, while Wendell Phillips has borne his name heavenward in a chariot of matchless eloquence.
I might if time permitted, point to a long list of self-made men, and could I ask these by what means they obtained their high positions among their fellowmen, their answer would come with the startling effect of a blast from a quarry—industry and application.
I now come to the relation which ideas and institutions bear to this class of men, and shall have special reference to America. I seldom find anything either in the ideas or institutions of that country, whereof to glory. The one deep dark veil of human bondage, covering as it does every department of the government, and every class of its people, poisoning the very life blood, the morals, religion, manners, and civilization of that great nation, hides from my dim vision much that might otherwise be seen, noble and beautiful and worthy of admiration and of imitation. But pushing aside this black and clotted covering which mantles all our land, as with the shadow of death, I recognize one feature at least of special and peculiar excellence, and that is the relation of America to self-made men.
America is, most unquestionably and pre-eminently, the home and special patron of self-made men. In no country in the world are the conditions more favourable to the production and sustentation of such men than in America. They are found in all the high places, exercising all the powers, and enjoying all the immunities of office and honour. The press flames with the living and quenchless fires of their genius, and the senate listens with respect and admiration to their eloquence. They are foremost men everywhere. They are found among our authors, editors, lawyers, preachers, inventors, poets, philosophers, and statesmen, and the fact that they are self-made is often dwelt upon by the crowd as their highest honour.
Let me give you one or two of the causes of this ample growth of self-made men. One cause, undoubtedly, is to be found in the general respectability of labour, especially in the northern states of the American Union. Work has not yet come to be looked upon as a degradation or disgrace. A man may labour there with his hands, or with his head, or with both hands and head, and yet move in respectable society—that is if he has a white skin. Every stranger landing upon American shores is struck by the easy, independent, and even haughty bearing of the labouring classes. This general respectability of labour is an important element in the production of self-made men.
But a second, and perhaps the most powerful, cause is this: the principle of measuring men by their own individual merits is better observed and enforced there than anywhere else. In Europe
A king can mak’ a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a’ that.7
But there, a man who wants to be a nobleman, must prove his nobility to his neighbours and the public. The sons of Henry Clay, Daniel Webster, and John C. Calhoun, are put upon trial, and have to make their way in the world like the rest of us, and they must prove themselves real Clays, Websters, and Calhouns, if they attract to themselves any of the respect and generous admiration commanded by their brilliant fathers. Our departed great men drop down from their various circles of greatness, like bright stars from the blue overhanging sky, bearing away with them their own silvery light, leaving the places they have illumined robed in darkness, until the heavens are re-lighted by the glory of other rising stars—(hear, hear, and cheers). On the strength of a great name, and upon the accident of being just what any other man might be, the nephew of his uncle, Mr. Louis Napoleon, has been able to banish from France many of the wisest, best, and bravest patriots and statesmen. On the ruins of broken faith and outraged liberty, he has firmly seated himself on the throne of a despot. But such an experiment on such a capital of name and nephewship could never succeed in America. Nobody there now cares for George Washington, jun., nor for Andrew Jackson, jun., and they stand no better chance of being made presidents of the United States than William or John, or other common men, whose fathers were never heard of twenty miles from home.
But self-made men are by no means invulnerable men. I do not at all subscribe to the maxim that self-made men are the best made men. With many excellent qualities and acquirements, they are apt to possess some which are not so excellent and desirable. It is hard to shake off all the effects of early surroundings. There is, however, one very common defect to be found among such men, to which even I may allude, who may share it; this it is: such men are generally very egotistical. The very nature of the path they have pursued, and the energies they have employed in reaching their position, have served to render them so. A man who is indebted to himself for himself, is apt to think no small pumpkins of himself—(laughter). He has altogether too much to say about being a self-made man. Whatever else shall be forgotten, this is always remembered. “I am a self-made man” is the thread-bare preface to all his words and actions—(cheers).
I have still another criticism to pass upon self-made men; and that is, they too often display a want of respect for the means by which other men have risen above the level of the race. They are too free in disparagement of schools they never attended, and colleges, of which they are ignorant. In this they assume a place that does not become them; for whatever may be their merits they are generally but relative merits—they are out-siders. They may pass judgment upon the best means of self-education, but they may not lay down the law as to the best means of educating others. There never was yet a man who had educated himself who could not, by the same exertion and application and determined perseverance, have been better educated by the helps of the ordinary institutions of learning—(hear, hear).
Thus I have given you a peep at both sides of the class of men taken as my subject, having nothing set down in malice, whatever I may have set down in partiality. The lessons which such men teach are valuable in many respects, chief among them is the dignity of humanity. They teach us, too, the value of work, self-reliance, and manly independence. Let us appreciate such men and award to them the mead of praise due to their heroism—give them equal elbow room—no matter from what land they come or from what race they descend—(cheers).
After all, my friends, let it be remembered—let it be rivetted upon our understandings and anchored in our hearts for ever—that neither self-culture, nor any other kind of culture, can amount to much in this world, unless joined to some truly unselfish and noble purpose. Patriotism, religion, philanthropy—some grand motive power other than the simple hope of personal reward must be present, or the candle is under the bushel and will certainly remain there. We all need some grand, some soul-enlarging, some soul-sustaining object to draw out the best energies of our natures and to lift us to the plains of true nobleness and manly life—(cheers).
And is it not a consoling thought that, rich as this great world may be, and poor and small as the individual man may be, there [is] none so small, none so destitute, but that he is rich enough to make this great world a debtor to him for something in the way of example, word, or deed more precious than all the gems of the east?—(loud applause).