It should be a matter of some congratulation to the Negro that the great publishing houses of this country are not, and never will be, located at the great centers of race prejudice. A manuscript of merit can easily find publication. Within recent years it has been noticed that the vein of seriousness that has run through the writings of Negro authors is fading away, and a jollity that is his own is taking its place. Most of the men and women of the race, who have written enough to win public notice, are known to be persons of a cheerful and jovial disposition. For such a person to live in the role of the miserable is at least a misrepresentation.
The Negro's aptness in detecting the facetious, even in things that are serious; his laughing soul that places a bouquet of joy and sunshine where the somber draping of woe would so often be found, is his God-given stock in trade upon which he can do business for generations to come. This secret is being discovered by him. This discovery will yet furnish the great world of letters with men and women of this race, who will place millions under tribute to graciously acknowledge the beneficence.
The way to favor and preferment for the Negro writer is to be made by himself. The epic of his race awaits a writer. The drama of an unwritten history covering about four centuries will welcome the facile pen of some gifted son or daughter. The well nigh inexhaustible field of folk-lore of his own people is ready to be told to the world, whether in the crude dialect of the race, or in Americanized English, it matters little. It will make no difference. The English speaking people of both continents will read it if it is written by a master. It is not at all taken for granted, admitted, or intimated, that the Negro writer of the present century is oblivious to any of these facts. Just as the "coon" melodies have captured the musical realms of this country, and will remain in the saddle for some time yet; just as Negro singers and actors are honorably invading the progressive end of the American stage, so will Negro writers swarm in the great field of writers, bringing with them a supply of freshness of genius, that will rejuvenate and give fresh life to the literature of this country.
This is a domain that mocks at legislative restrictions, caste, exclusionism and what not. Those who will enter and maintain their ground will be few. All of the stars in the heavens are not fast flying meteors. There never was such a thing as an army of sages.
Mindful of the fact that his antecedence is small in the world of letters, the Negro writer is the more ardently inspired when he looks beyond and catches sight of golden fields into which no swarthy hand has thrust a sickle.
The world wants more joy; the world cries for more sunshine; the world begs for a laugh. Mankind gloats over the depiction of deeds both noble and ignoble. The world delights in that which is novel. The Negro is a son of caloric. His presence is sunshine. He tells a story leaving nothing out. He is himself a novelty, and it will not be too far in the twentieth century before he will take pity on the world and mankind and write them what they like.
THIRD PAPER.
THE NEGRO AS A WRITER.
BY G. M. McClellan.