In my judgment the black people have suffered enough. They have been slaves for two hundred years. They have been owned two hundred years, and, more than all, they have been compelled to keep the company of those who owned them. Think of being compelled to keep the society of the man who is stealing from you. Think of being compelled to live with a man that stole your child from the cradle before your very eyes. Think of being compelled to live with a thief all your life, to spend your days with a white loafer, and to be under his control.
128. The History of Civilization
The history of civilization is the history of the slow and painful enfranchis.e.m.e.nt of the human race. In the olden times the family was a monarchy, the father being the monarch. The mother and children were the veriest slaves. The will of the father was the supreme law. He had the power of life and death. It took thousands of years to civilize this father, thousands of years to make the condition of the wife and mother and children even tolerable. A few families const.i.tuted a tribe; the tribe had a chief; the chief was a tyrant; a few tribes formed a nation; the nation was governed by a king, who was also a tyrant. A strong nation robbed, plundered and took captive the weaker ones.
129. Does G.o.d Uphold Slavery?
Is there, in the civilized world, to-day, a clergyman who believes in the divinity of slavery? Does the Bible teach man to enslave his brother? If it does, is it not blasphemous to say that it is inspired of G.o.d? If you find the inst.i.tution of slavery upheld in a book said to have been written by G.o.d, what would you expect to find in a book inspired by the devil? Would you expect to find that book in favor of liberty? Modern Christians, ashamed of the G.o.d of the Old Testament, endeavor now to show that slavery was neither commanded nor opposed by Jehovah.
130. Solemn Defiance
For my part, I never will, I never can, worship a G.o.d who upholds the inst.i.tution of slavery. Such a G.o.d I hate and defy. I neither want his heaven, nor fear his h.e.l.l.
THE WAR
131. The Soldiers of the Republic
The soldiers of the Republic were not seekers after vulgar glory. They were not animated by the hope of plunder or the love of conquest. They fought to preserve the blessings of liberty and that their children might have peace. They were the defenders of humanity, the destroyers of prejudice, the breakers of chains, and in the name of the future they slew the monster of their time.
132. Honor to the Brave!
All honor, to the Brave! They blotted from the statute books laws that had been pa.s.sed by hypocrites at the instigation of robbers, and tore with indignant hands from the Const.i.tution that infamous clause that made men the catchers of their fellow men. They made it possible for judges to be just, for statesmen to be human, and for politicians to be honest. They broke the shackles from the limbs of slaves, from the souls of martyrs, and from the Northern brain. They kept our country on the map of the world and our flag in heaven.
133. What Were We Fighting For?
Seven long years of war--fighting for what? For the principle that all men were created equal--a truth that n.o.body ever disputed except a scoundrel; n.o.body in the entire history of this world. No man ever denied that truth who was not a rascal, and at heart a thief; never, never, and never will. What else were they fighting for? Simply that in America every man should have a right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. n.o.body ever denied that except a villain; never, never.
It has been denied by kings--they were thieves. It has been denied by statesmen--they were liars. It has been denied by priests, by clergymen, by cardinals, by bishops and by popes--they were hypocrites. What else were they fighting for? For the idea that all political power is vested in the great body of the people. They make all the money; do all the work. They plow the land; cut down the forests; they produce everything that is produced. Then who shall say what shall be done with what is produced except the producer?
134. The Revolution Consummated
The soldiers of the Republic finished what the soldiers of the Revolution commenced. They relighted the torch that fell from their august hands and filled the world again with light.
135. Fighting Done!--Work Begun!
The soldiers went home to their waiting wives, to their glad children, and to the girls they loved--they went back to the fields, the shops and mines. They had not been demoralized. They had been enn.o.bled. They were as honest in peace as they had been brave in war. Mocking at poverty, laughing at reverses, they made a friend of toil. They said: "We saved the nation"s life, and what is life without honor?" They worked and wrought with all of labor"s sons, that every pledge the nation gave should be redeemed. And their great leader, having put a shining hand of friendship--a girdle of clasped and happy hands--around the globe, comes home and finds that every promise made in war has now the ring and gleam of gold.
136. Manhood worth more than Gold
We say in this country manhood is worth more than gold. We say in this country that without liberty the Nation is not worth preserving. I appeal to every laboring man, and I ask him, "Is there another country on this globe where you can have your equal rights with others?" Now, then, in every country, no matter how good it is, and no matter how bad it is--in every country there is something worth preserving, and there is something that ought to be destroyed. Now recollect that every voter is in his own right a king; every voter in this country wears a crown; every voter in this country has in his hands the scepter of authority; and every voter, poor and rich, wears the purple of authority alike.
Recollect it; and the man that will sell his vote is the man that abdicates the American throne.
137. Grander than Greek or Roman.
Grander than the Greek, n.o.bler than the Roman, the soldiers of the republic, with patriotism as taintless as the air, battled for the rights of others; for the n.o.bility of labor; fought that mothers might own their babes; that arrogant idleness should not scar the back of patient toil, and that our country should not be a many-headed monster made of warring States, but a Nation, sovereign, great and free. Blood was water; money, leaves, and life was common air until one flag floated over a republic without a master and without a slave.
138. Let us Drink to the Living and the Dead
The soldiers of the Union saved the South as well as the North. They made us a Nation. Their victory made us free and rendered tyranny in every other land as insecure as snow upon volcano lips. And now let us drink to the volunteers, to those who sleep in unknown, sunken graves, whose names are only in the hearts of those they loved and left--of those who only hear in happy dreams the footsteps of return. Let us drink to those who died where lipless famine mocked at want--to all the maimed whose scars give modesty a tongue, to all who dared and gave to chance the care and keeping of their lives--to all the living and all the dead--to Sherman, to Sheridan and to Grant, the foremost soldiers of the world; and last, to Lincoln, whose loving life, like a bow of peace, spans and arches all the clouds of war.
139. Will the Wounds of the War be Healed?
There is still another question: "Will all the wounds of the war be healed?" I answer, Yes. The Southern people must submit, not to the dictation of the North, but to the nation"s will and to the verdict of mankind. They were wrong, and the time will come when they will say that they have been vanquished by the right. Freedom conquered them, and freedom will cultivate their fields, educate their children, weave for them the robes of wealth, execute their laws, and fill their land with happy homes.
140. Saviours of the Nation
They rolled the stone from the sepulchre of progress, and found therein two angels clad in shining garments--nationality and liberty. The soldiers were the Saviours of the Nation. They were the liberators of men. In writing the proclamation of emanc.i.p.ation, Lincoln, greatest of our mighty dead, whose memory is as gentle as the summer air,--when reapers sing "mid gathered sheaves,--copied with the pen what Grant and his brave comrades wrote with swords.