One of the saddest mistakes of the slave was, that he thought _so
much_ of the _pleasures_ of freedom and _so little of its weighty
obligations_. To him, freedom meant mansions, lands, teams, money,
position, educated sons and refined daughters, with the liberty to
go and to act as he pleased. If he might have burdened his mind with
thoughts of his sore destitution of heart, of intellect, of purse; if
he might have thought of his poverty as to skill in the arts, sciences
and professions of life, as to social status, as to domestic relations,
as to opportunities to succeed in a wrestle for life by the side of
the victorious white man--if he might have seen that to make himself a
_strong manhood_ was his first and his most important duty--if his mind
might have been full of these thoughts, it had been a thousand fold
better for him. But, as his mind was on pleasures, he was disappointed
when they proved only phantoms, and hence the bud of liberty was bitter.
Indeed, to those who had the ability to discern, the first view of
liberty was frightful in proportion as it was seriously considered.
Naturally, as the shackles suddenly fell off, there was such a forcible
rebounding of life, as in many cases made liberty mean license to live
idle and lewd.
I can never forget my first impressions at the full view of freedom. O,
what helplessness appeared in our condition!
Every day, for weeks, shoeless and hatless men and women, with half
naked, hungry children, passed through the little town where I lived,
not knowing whither they went, what were their names, nor what they
sought. A certain man, when I first met him, was introduced to me as
Mr. M----. A little after this, I was surprised to find that he was
not Mr. M----, but was Mr. R----. And my ability to be surprised was
considerably lessened when I finally learned that Mr. R---- was now Mr.
H----.
Long and anxiously I waited for the appearance of some _great_ colored
men to assume leadership in matters of religion and education, but I
waited in vain. My heart ached as though it would break, and was at
last only partially relieved of its weight when my brother (Rev. J.
Gomez) and I had built an humble house in which to worship God and
teach the children. Into this we, boys though we were, called the
people to meet to hear the reading of the Scriptures and to pray.