On the 2d of March the Kansas-Nebraska bill went to a third reading by a vote of twenty-nine to twelve; its passage was thus assured.[488] Debate continued, however, during the afternoon and evening of the next day.  Friends of the bill had agreed that it should be brought to a vote on this night.  The privilege of closing the debate belonged to the chairman of the Committee on Territories; but in view of the lateness of the hour, he offered to waive his privilege and let a vote be taken.  Voices were raised in protest, however, and Douglas yielded to the urgent request of his friends.[489]

The speech of Douglas was a characteristic performance.  It abounded in repetitions, and it can hardly be said to have contributed much to the understanding of the issues.  Yet it was a memorable effort, because it exhibited the magnificent fighting qualities of the man.  He was completely master of himself.  He permitted interruptions by his opponents; he invited them; indeed, at times, he welcomed them; but at no time was he at a loss for a reply.  Dialectically he was on this occasion more than a match for Chase and Seward.  There were no studied effects in his oratory.  Knowing himself to be addressing a wider audience than the Senate chamber and its crowded galleries, he appealed with intuitive keenness to certain fundamental traits in his constituents.  Americans admire self-reliance even in an opponent, and the spectacle of a man fighting against personal injustice is often likely to make them forget the principle for which he stands.  So Seward, who surely had no love for Douglas and no respect for his political creed, was moved to exclaim in frank admiration, “I hope the Senator will yield for a moment, because I have never had so much respect for him as I have tonight.”  When Chase assured Douglas that he always purposed to treat the Senator from Illinois with entire courtesy, Douglas retorted:  “The Senator says that he never intended to do me injustice....  Sir, did he not say in the same document to which I have already alluded, that I was engaged, with others, ’in a criminal betrayal of precious rights,’ ’in an atrocious plot’?...  Did he not say everything calculated to produce and bring upon my head all the insults to which I have been subjected publicly and privately—­not even excepting the insulting letters which I have received from his constituents, rejoicing at my domestic bereavements, and praying that other and similar calamities may befall me!"[490]

In much the same way, he turned upon Sumner, as the collaborator of the Appeal.  Here was one who had begun his career as an Abolitionist in the Senate, with the words “Strike but hear me first,” but who had helped to close the doors of Faneuil Hall against Webster, when he sought to speak in self-defense in 1850, and who now—­such was the implication—­was denying simple justice to another patriot.[491]