vious history will not long keep the
world from what it wants.

I think that the whole future of my race hinges on the question as to
whether or not it can make itself of such indispensable value that the
people in the town and the state where we reside will feel that our
presence is necessary to the happiness and well-being of the community.
No man who continues to add something to the material, intellectual,
and moral well-being of the place in which he lives is long left without
proper reward. This is a great human law which cannot be permanently
nullified.

The love of pleasure and excitement which seems in a large measure to
possess the French people impressed itself upon me. I think they are
more noted in this respect than is true of the people of my own race. In
point of morality and moral earnestness I do not believe that the French
are ahead of my own race in America. Severe competition and the great
stress of life have led them to learn to do things more thoroughly and
to exercise greater economy; but time, I think, will bring my race to
the same point. In the matter of truth and high honour I do not believe
that the average Frenchman is ahead of the American Negro; while so far
as mercy and kindness to dumb animals go, I believe that my race is far
ahead. In fact, when I left France, I had more faith in the future of
the black man in America than I had ever possessed.

From Paris we went to London, and reached there early in July, just
about the height of the London social season. Parliament was in session,
and there was a great deal of gaiety. Mr. Garrison and other friends had
provided us with a large number of letters of introduction, and they
had also sent letters to other persons in different parts of the United
Kingdom, apprising these people of our coming. Very soon after reaching
London we were flooded with invitations to attend all manner of social
functions, and a great many invitations came to me asking that I deliver
public addresses. The most of these invitations I declined, for the
reason that I wanted to rest. Neither were we able to accept more than
a small proportion of the other invitations. The Rev. Dr. Brooke
Herford and Mrs. Herford, whom I had known in Boston, consulted with
the American Ambassador, the Hon. Joseph Choate, and arranged for me to
speak at a public meeting to be held in Essex Hall. Mr. Choate kindly
consented to preside. The meeting was largely attended. There were many