First, because of their ignorance of our country; its history, constitution and government. Some will think that this is a danger which will soon pass away, as the older and more ignorant ones die. It is true that the number of those who were advanced in years at the close of the war is rapidly decreasing, but there is an astonishingly large number of those who were young at that time and are now in the prime of life. They are ignorant of our National history previous to the Civil War. What they have learned since, has been politics rather than patriotism. They look upon our nation as two great political parties, each struggling for the mastery. One they regard as hostile, and the other friendly, to them. This is the extent of their knowledge of United States history. Although they have been told that we are a great nation under a beneficent government, such a fact is difficult for them to comprehend, since all they see is the by-play of party politicians. They know they have a right to vote, but how can they respect a government that does not always and everywhere protect them in the exercise of that right?
A second reason why patriotism is in danger among the colored people: They are not surrounded by that intensely national spirit which prevails in other parts of our country. By this, I would not take one iota from the loyalty and patriotism of the Southern people. The fact cannot be denied, however, that one in the South hears and reads but little about the United States of America. Much is written and said about the State, but little genuine enthusiasm for the whole country is displayed. A general spirit of distrust of the Federal Government is constantly coming to the surface. Newspapers and men talk as if they were constantly afraid the government would overstep its bounds and encroach upon the rights of the States. The Southern press is ever complaining of the sectionalism of the North. And when confronted with the necessity of teaching United States History in the public schools, it rejects the current school histories. It is not the present object to remark further upon this than to call attention to the fact that there is a state of public sentiment which is not productive of warm patriotism. Two years ago, the writer, while attending an anniversary in a Northern city, witnessed a scene that will not soon be forgotten. Fifty thousand people were gathered on a public square, and at a given signal a beautiful new flag was unfurled, and the band struck up "America." Fifty thousand voices took up the tune. Men cheered until they were hoarse. One gray-haired Irishman with tears shouted, "Thank God I live under the American flag." Such scenes develop patriotism. They are rare in the South.
In the midst of indifference toward the national government, the colored race is developing and multiplying, and that so rapidly that it is a most important factor in the political affairs of the nation. Like begets like. Indifference toward the government on the part of the whites, breeds the same in the Negroes.
Now, true patriotism is a positive power. A new generation of colored people is growing up. Upon these rests the future of the race. These two defects, lack of education and unpatriotic surroundings, will best be remedied by the education of this new generation.
United States History should be a prominent study, even in the primary departments of our schools. The vast majority of the colored children can remain in school only long enough to get a knowledge of the elements, and among these should be American history. What if children cannot pronounce the names of all the cities in Siberia? Teach them to speak intelligently of Lexington, Bunker Hill and Yorktown. Hang the walls of the school-room with pictures of great Americans. Let incidents from their lives be used as illustrations of moral lessons. Explain the principles and form of our government. Dwell upon the extent of its domain and its vast resources. Define simply the privileges conferred, and the duties imposed, upon the citizens of our government. Four things should be taught them: the three Rs and American history. What is needed among all our citizens, is a great lifting up where a broad view of our great land can be had. Make the children feel that they dwell in a great and goodly land, that they enjoy great privileges under its government, and they will learn to love it.
When Independence Day arrives, arrange for public gatherings of the people, and in short addresses explain to them the meaning of the day. Let it be a day of opportunity for instructing them in the history of our country and in the duties of citizenship. These are some of the ways in which the colored people may be aroused from their apathy and indifference toward their country, and inspired with a patriotism, not blind and spasmodic, but intelligent and permanent.
A NEGRO GIRL'S PROSE POEM.
In attendance at one of the ward schools of Indianapolis is a little colored girl nine years old. She is miserable, indeed, for at home she is ill treated, and the shoes she wears, and often the clothes, are supplied by the teachers or some of her classmates. There is a tender, poetic vein in her make-up, and it found vent in a composition. The teacher took a little pansy plant to school one day and told the pupils of the flower. Two days after, she asked them to write a story of it, and gave them the privilege of having the pansy talk and tell the story, and this is what the little colored girl wrote, the word pansy in the copy being the only one dignified with a capital:
"I am only a Pansy, my home is in a little brown house. I sleep in my little brown house all winter, and I am now going to open my eyes and look about. 'give me some rain sky, I want to look out of my window and see what is going on,' I asked, so the sky gave me some water and I began to clime to the window, at last I got up there and open my eyes, oh what a wonderful world I seen when birds sang songs to me, and grasshoppers kissed me, and dance with me, and creakets smiled at me, and I had a pretty green dress. there was trees that grow over me and the wind faned me. the sun smiled at me, and little children smelled me. one bright morning me and the grasshoppers had a party he wood play with me and a naughty boy pick me up and tore me up and I died and that was the last of Pansy."—