And he was not unfrequently surprised, greatly surprised, when others found his language offensive.
As he possessed the firmness and courage, so he possessed the faith, of the devotee. From the beginning, and through all the vicissitudes of the anti-slavery movement, his heart was profoundly assured that his generation would see slavery entirely extinguished.
While travelling in France to restore his health, after having been beaten down on the floor of the Senate, he visited Alexis de Tocqueville, the celebrated author of Democracy in America. Tocqueville expressed his anxiety about the issue of the anti-slavery movement, which then had suffered defeat by the election of Buchanan. “There can be no doubt about the result,” said Sumner. “Slavery will soon succumb and disappear.” “Disappear! in what way, and how soon?” asked Tocqueville. “In what manner I cannot say,” replied Sumner. “How soon I cannot say. But it will be soon; I feel it; I know it. It cannot be otherwise.” That was all the reason he gave. “Mr. Sumner is a remarkable man,” said de Tocqueville afterwards to a friend of mine. “He says that slavery will soon entirely disappear in the United States. He does not know how, he does not know when, but he feels it, he is perfectly sure of it. The man speaks like a prophet.” And so it was.
What appeared a perplexing puzzle to other men s minds was perfectly clear to him. His method of reasoning was simple; it was the reasoning of religious faith. Slavery is wrong—therefore it must and will perish; freedom is right—therefore it must and will prevail. And by no power of resistance, by no difficulty, by no disappointment, by no defeat, could that faith be shaken. For his cause, so great and just, he thought nothing impossible, everything certain. And he was unable to understand how others could fail to share his faith.
