lligence--look at the railroads interlining every section, bearing
upon them their mighty trains, flying with the velocity of the swallow,
ushering in the hundreds of industrious, enterprising travellers. Cast
again your eyes widespread over the ocean--see the vessels in every
direction with their white sheets spread to the winds of heaven,
freighted with the commerce, merchandise and wealth of many nations.
Look as you pass along through the cities, at the great and massive
buildings--the beautiful and extensive structures of
architecture--behold the ten thousand cupolas, with their spires all
reared up towards heaven, intersecting the territory of the clouds--all
standing as mighty living monuments, of the industry, enterprise, and
intelligence of the white man. And yet, with all these living truths,
rebuking us with scorn, we strut about, place our hands akimbo,
straighten up ourselves to our greatest height, and talk loudly about
being "as good as any body." How do we compare with them? Our fathers
are their coachmen, our brothers their cookmen, and ourselves their
waiting-men. Our mothers their nurse-women, our sisters their
scrub-women, our daughters their maid-women, and our wives their
washer-women. Until colored men, attain to a position above permitting
their mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters, to do the drudgery and
menial offices of other men's wives and daughters; it is useless, it is
nonsense, it is pitiable mockery, to talk about equality and elevation
in society. The world is looking upon us, with feelings of
commiseration, sorrow, and contempt. We scarcely deserve sympathy, if we
peremptorily refuse advice, bearing upon our elevation.

We will suppose a case for argument: In this city reside, two colored
families, of three sons and three daughters each. At the head of each
family, there is an old father and mother. The opportunities of these
families, may or may not be the same for educational advantages--be that
as it may, the children of the one go to school, and become qualified
for the duties of life. One daughter becomes school-teacher, another a
mantua-maker, and a third a fancy shop-keeper; while one son becomes a
farmer, another a merchant, and a third a mechanic. All enter into
business with fine prospects, marry respectably, and settle down in
domestic comfort--while the six sons and daughters of the other family,
grow up without educational and business qualifications, and the highest
aim