You will pardon a single illustration of their capacity for enlightened politics. For nearly eight years I have had in my employment a colored man, Daniel Martin by name. He is about my own age. I trust him fully in all matters for which he has capacity. We are much attached to each other, and, the truth is, we have been taking care of each other for a good while. He gets better wages than ordinary colored men in our community, and is much above the average of his race in character and common sense. He can read “coarse print,” and can sign his name imperfectly. You will miss the point of my illustration unless you bear in mind that he had steadily voted the Republican ticket from the beginning of his citizenship to the date of my story. And he so votes till this day. The day before the Hayes and Tilden election he was plowing in a little field near my house. One of our students quizzed him about his views and intentions: “How are you going to vote to-morrow, Uncle Daniel?” It is a peculiarity of the Southern negro that he never delivers a solemn judgment on any subject without coming to a full halt in whatever engages him. One consequence is, he comes to a great many halts in his work. Another peculiarity of at least the Southern negro is, that he thinks in metaphor and speaks in parables. So Daniel, stopping his horse and sticking his plow deeper into the ground, delivered himself as follows: “Now, Mr. Longstreet, you see I is plowin dis furrow. If I only plow dis furrow I makes dis furrow too deep and I don’t plow de balance of de patch.” Mr. Longstreet admitted the force of the statement. Daniel continued in answer to the young man’s question: “I think things is ben gwine on in one way long enough; I think dere ought to be a change. Wherefore I is gwine to vote for Mr. Hayes to-morrow—git up, Bill.”
Next day he and I went to our county town; he voted for Hayes that there might be a change; I voted for Tilden that there might be a change; he killed my vote—or possibly one of yours—and we were “equal before the law.”
But few of them are now prepared to vote intelligently, and ballots, whether cast by fair or dark hands, in the hands of ignorance are dangerous to free institutions. Are not you of the North nearly as much concerned in the quality of the negro’s ballot as we of the South are? Till recently, they voted “solid” for the Republican ticket. A few weeks ago, in Georgia, the majority of them voted for an ex-Confederate Brigadier General, who fought bravely at the first Manassas, and who ran for Governor as an Independent Democrat, receiving, however, the whole Republican vote; and thousands of them voted for the nominee of the Democratic party, the ex-Vice-President of the Confederacy. No white man running for any office in the South will refuse their votes, and, so far as I know, their votes are always sought when there is any chance to get them. I am not sure but that his ignorance makes him more dangerous as a voter when both parties seek his vote than when it is given solid to one. In your work in the South, Mr. President, I rejoice, for many reasons. The reason I now mention is this: That work is helping to prepare the negro for his duties as a citizen. I can well understand how the best and wisest people in the North feel most deeply and solemnly their obligation to do this work. For you gave him the ballot, and history will not justify that gift unless you do all that you can do to prepare him for its intelligent use. Not now, nor during the next generation, can the South do this work alone. Unless you continue to help, and to help mightily, it cannot be done. As to primary education, many in the South—and I, for one, agree with them—believe with our Senator Brown, of Georgia, that the national government should come to the rescue and help the States in this work—distributing its aid on the basis of illiteracy. This would give the South a large share of “appropriations under the old flag.” What if it does? The South is part of you, and you are part of the South—if this is a Union and a Nation. Slowly but surely, as it seems to me, we are beginning to understand our relations to each other. Some day we will, it is to be hoped, understand one another so well and agree so amicably that the phrases “the North” and “the South” shall have only geographical meaning. President Arthur, many thanks to him for this, made no allusion to “the South” in his first message to Congress.
If the general government gives this needed help, it will be in the interest of the whole country, although the Southern States may get, for once, the lion’s share. For we are a large part of this country; we are in the Union and intend to stay there—if we have to whip somebody in order to do it. But, in the nature of things, this sort of help must be temporary, and, as I suppose, should, like the educational work of the State governments, be carried on, for the most part, in the common schools. The thing that must be done, if our work is to stand, is to train up among the negroes, as well as among the whites, men and women who can teach the children of their race—teach them in homes, in school-houses and in churches. This cannot be done by the State as it should be done. For if, as one has said, the “negroes need educated Christianity,” it is also true that they must have Christianized education in order to get it. This the State does not and cannot give. To achieve this most desirable and necessary result the school-house and the church must work together. There must be Bibles in the schools that are to train teachers among this people, and there must be Christian men and women in them who both teach and practice religion.
This, as it appears to me, is what you and others like you are trying to do for the negroes. Your annual reports show that your Association is doing successfully, and on a very broad scale, this most necessary work. I do not particularize; your Secretaries have covered all that ground.
You are raising up in these schools men and women who, in the years to come, can, will and must teach the children of their people. Hundreds of them are doing it now. I say must; for Christianized education must, by its instinctive and divine impulses, perpetuate itself and diffuse itself. Christian education, whether in Christian or heathen lands, is the most aggressive and formative influence that is now shaping the destiny of the human race. When you send out from Nashville, from Berea, from Atlanta and New Orleans young men and women who are both educated and religious, you send into the very masses of these untaught millions those who must teach what they have learned both from books and from Christ. Again I say must, for the spirit that is in an educated Christian man or woman is, as the old Methodist preacher used to say, “a fire in the bones,” and it will blaze out.
The author of the Declaration of Independence wrote, it is said, in 1782, this prediction: “Nothing is more certainly written in the book of fate than that these people are to be free; nor is it less certain that the two races, equally free, cannot live in the same government.”
It does not surprise me that Mr. Jefferson made both of these predictions. As to the first, there was at that time in Virginia and other Southern States a strong party that favored the emancipation of the slaves. As to the second prediction, he had studied French philosophy more than he had studied Christianity. If this country were pagan Rome, or infidel France, the first prediction would have failed—they would not have been set free by the will of men. Had they been set free, the second prediction would have been fulfilled, for in a pagan or infidel country, the two races could not be equally free “and live in the same government.” They would not have been set free had this not been a Christian country; as it is a Christian country, the two races, equally free before the law, can live in the same government and the problem of their citizenship can be solved.
But this problem cannot be solved by legislation alone. Time has proved the truth of the weighty words delivered at your anniversary in 1875, by that venerable and great man who was taken to heaven last winter. At that time the Rev. Dr. Leonard Bacon wrote these words: “I come to this conclusion, legislation on the part of the national government is no longer to be invoked in aid of fundamental reconstruction. Attempts by Congress to employ force for the abolition of prejudices and antipathies in social intercourse do not help the cause in which the American Missionary Association is at work. I used the word force, because law enforced is force, and law not enforced is not law. The more completely our cause can be henceforth disentangled from all connection with political parties and agitators, the better for its progress. Doubtless there will be more legislation by the several States, especially in behalf of the great interest of public schools for all, before the consummation that we hope for shall have been attained; but the legislation, must be the effect and not the cause of that fundamental reconstruction which we desire to work for. It will exhibit and record, more than it can inspire or control, the progress of reformed opinions and better sentiments among the people.”
When the law gives equal opportunity and guarantees equal rights to all (and this it must do to be worthy of respect), it has done all it can do. Foundation work means character-building, and this goes on in individuals. Law has its educative force; but to lift up a race whether white, yellow, black, or red, there must be character-building in individual men and women, and to do this work right we must have the church and the school-house. And these two must work together and not against each other. This sort of foundation work you are trying to do and others are trying to do. It has not failed; it cannot fail; it has life in itself.