s that has
given Southern women undesirable notoriety, and is making the world
believe that to keep us pure it costs yearly hundreds of ignominious
human sacrifices, a thing that we should rise up and brand as a lie! Who
is to guard the home of the Negro man? Can we look around Wilmington and
believe that his home does not need a stronger arsenal than ours? While
we are boiling over with sympathy for Mrs. Hartright, do we think for a
moment of the humble home of that Negro father made unhappy by Mr.
Hartright? Do we feel pity for Dan Hawes, John Maxim, Charlotte Jones?
The Negro no longer feels that the appearance of a white illegitimate
among his honestly begotten piccaninnies is an honor bestowed upon his
household. Charlotte's case was indeed a sad one. No one knows better
than I what a heavy heart she carried after her favorite child, the one
she had taken such pains to educate, and from whom she expected so much,
fell a victim to the flatteries of a Jew." "Well, must white women stop
to lament over such things?" asked Mrs. Hill. "Are we to blame for the
shortcomings of these people?" "Yes," answered the hostess. "We have
looked on unmoved and beheld our sister in black shorn of all protection
by the laws upon the State books of every Southern State, that she may
be humiliated with impunity, and we have gloried in her shame."

"Harriet Beecher Stowe's "Uncle Tom's Cabin" is no exaggeration. Simon
Legree stalks abroad unrebuked in the South, and Cassies with sad
stories of betrayal and humiliation are plentiful." "I do not think it
possible to better the black woman morally," said Mrs. Hill. "The germs
of high and lofty thought are not in her, that is certain." "Have you
ever tried to put that theory to a test?" asked Mrs. McLane sharply. "I
cant say that I have," returned Mrs. Hill slowly. "If the Negro is
morally low, we are ourselves responsible, and God will call us to
account for it. In our greed for gain we stifled every good impulse,
fostered and encouraged immorality and unholy living among our slaves by
disregarding the sacredness of the marriage relation. 'That which God
hath joined together let no man put asunder!' We have done that. We
have made a discord in the sweetest music that ever thrilled the human
heart--the music of love. I believe that there is that pathos, that true
poetry in Negro love-making that no other race possesses. When a child I
used to love to listen to the simple and yet pathetic plea