wards
developing our character, adding our quota to the civilization and
strength of the country, diversifying our industry, and practising those
lordly virtues that conquer success, and turn the world's dread laugh
into admiring recognition? The white race has yet work to do in making
practical the political axiom of equal rights, and the Christian idea of
human brotherhood; but while I lift mine eyes to the future I would not
ungratefully ignore the past. One hundred years ago and Africa was the
privileged hunting-ground of Europe and America, and the flag of
different nations hung a sign of death on the coasts of Congo and
Guinea, and for years unbroken silence had hung around the horrors of
the African slave-trade. Since then Great Britain and other nations have
wiped the bloody traffic from their hands, and shaken the gory
merchandise from their fingers, and the brand of piracy has been placed
upon the African slave-trade. Less than fifty years ago mob violence
belched out its wrath against the men who dared to arraign the
slaveholder before the bar of conscience and Christendom. Instead of
golden showers upon his head, he who garrisoned the front had a halter
around his neck. Since, if I may borrow the idea, the nation has caught
the old inspiration from his lips and written it in the new organic
world. Less than twenty-five years ago slavery clasped hands with King
Cotton, and said slavery fights and cotton conquers for American
slavery. Since then slavery is dead, the colored man has exchanged the
fetters on his wrist for the ballot in his hand. Freedom is king, and
Cotton a subject.

It may not seem to be a gracious thing to mingle complaint in a season
of general rejoicing. It may appear like the ancient Egyptians seating a
corpse at their festal board to avenge the Americans for their
shortcomings when so much has been accomplished. And yet with all the
victories and triumphs which freedom and justice have won in this
country, I do not believe there is another civilized nation under Heaven
where there are half so many people who have been brutally and
shamefully murdered, with or without impunity, as in this Republic
within the last ten years. And who cares? Where is the public opinion
that has scorched with red-hot indignation the cowardly murderers of
Vicksburg and Louisiana? Sheridan lifts up the vail from Southern
society, and behind it is the smell of blood, and our bones scattered at
the grave's mouth;