yet know that we have caught the fire of liberty. He does not yet
know that we have learned what a glorious thing it is to die for a
principle, and especially when that principle is liberty. He does not
yet know how the genius of his institutions has taken hold of our very
souls. In the days of our enslavement we did not seem to him to be
much disturbed about physical freedom. During the whole period of our
enslavement we made only two slight insurrections.

"When at last the war came to set us free we stayed in the field and
fed the men who were reddening the soil with their blood in a deadly
struggle to keep us in bondage forever. We remained at home and
defended the helpless wives and children of men, who if they had been
at home would have counted it no crime to have ignored all our
family ties and scattered husbands and wives, mothers and children as
ruthlessly as the autumn winds do the falling leaves.

"The Anglo-Saxon has seen the eyes of the Negro following the American
eagle in its glorious flight. The eagle has alighted on some mountain
top and the poor Negro has been seen climbing up the rugged mountain
side, eager to caress the eagle. When he has attempted to do this, the
eagle has clawed at his eyes and dug his beak into his heart and has
flown away in disdain; and yet, so majestic was its flight that the
Negro, with tears in his eyes, and blood dripping from his heart has
smiled and shouted: 'God save the eagle.'

"These things have caused us to be misunderstood. We know that
our patient submission in slavery was due to our consciousness of
weakness; we know that our silence and inaction during the civil war
was due to a belief that God was speaking for us and fighting our
battle; we know that our devotion to the flag will not survive one
moment after our hope is dead; but we must not be content with knowing
these things ourselves. We must change the conception which the
Anglo-Saxon has formed of our character. We should let him know that
patience has a limit; that strength brings confidence; that faith
in God will demand the exercise of our own right arm; that hope and
despair are each equipped with swords, the latter more dreadful than
the former. Before we make a forward move, let us pull the veil from
before the eyes of the Anglo-Saxon that he may see the New Negro
standing before him humbly, but firmly demanding every right granted
him by his maker and wrested from him by man.

"If, however, the