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on both sides of the Ohio river hate their neighbours with the dark and strained malignity which springs from no other source but fratricidal war. Not many minutes since, an aged and respected minister of the Gospel called on me to gloat over the prospect of a new war in the South.
When I tried to rouse in him some sense of proportion, so that, in seeking full justice for his African brother, he might not wholly forget the rights of his European brother, he expressed his hope and conviction that the White race would never again prevail against the Black.
“The coloured people of the South,” said this minister of the gospel, in amazing ignorance of the facts in Richmond and Raleigh, Charlestown and New Orleans, “are saving their money, putting their children to school, and doing the duties of good citizens; while their old tyrants are wallowing in riot and drunkenness, threatening our country with a new secession, and lifting up their heads against the will of God.
It never will be well with America until these gentle and pious coloured people have obtained a fixed and lasting mastery in the Southern States.”
Yet there are signs that this bad state of feeling
1875.
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