y.

* * * * *

There is no reason why any Negro should become discouraged or morbid. We
believe in God; His providence is mysterious and inscrutible; but his
ways are just and righteous altogether. Suffering and disappointment
have always found their place in divine economy. It took four hundred
years of slavery in Egypt and a sifting process of forty years in the
"Wilderness" to teach Israel to respect their race and to fit them for
entrance into the "Promised Land." The black man has not as yet
thoroughly learned to have the respect for his race that is so necessary
to the making of a great people. I believe the woes that God has sent
him are but the fiery furnace through which he is passing, that is
separating the dross from the pure gold, and is welding the Negroes
together as a great people for a great purpose.

There is every reason for optimism, hopefulness. The Negro never had
more the respect and confidence of his neighbors, black and white, than
he has to-day. Neither has he because of his real worth deserved that
respect more than he does to-day. Could anybody, amid the inspiration of
these grounds and buildings, be discouraged about the future of the
Negro? The race problem in this country, I repeat, is simply a part of
the problem of life. It is the adjustment of man's relation to his
brother, and this adjustment began when Cain slew Abel. Race prejudice
is as much a fact as the law of gravitation, and it is as foolish to
ignore the operation of one as of the other. Mournful complaint and
arrogant criticism are as useless as the crying of a baby against the
fury of a great wind. The path of moral progress, remember, has never
taken a straight line, but I believe that, unless democracy is a failure
and Christianity a mockery, it is entirely feasible and practicable for
the black and white races of America to develop side by side, in peace,
in harmony, and in mutual helpfulness each toward the other; living
together as "brothers in Christ without being brothers-in-law," each
making its contributions to the wealth and culture of our beloved
country.

* * * * *

I close with these lines, from an anonymous poet, on "The Water Lily":

"O star on the breast of the river,
O marvel of bloom and grace,
Did you fall straight down from heaven,
Out of the sweetest place?
You are white as the thought of the angel,
Your heart is steeped in the sun;
Did you grow in the golden cit