A SERMON, A SOCK AND A FIGHT.
Belton remained at Stowe University, acquiring fame as an orator and
scholar. His intellect was pronounced by all to be marvelously bright.
We now pass over all his school career until we come to the closing
days of the session in which he graduated. School was to close on
Thursday, and the Sunday night previous had been designated as the
time for the Baccalaureate sermon. On this occasion the entire
school assembled in the general assembly room,--the graduating class
occupying the row of front seats stretching across the room. The
class, this year, numbered twenty-five; and they presented an
appearance that caused the hearts of the people to swell with pride.
Dr. Lovejoy, president of the University, was to preach the sermon. He
chose for his text, "The Kingdom of God is within us." We shall choose
from his discourse just such thoughts as may throw light upon some
events yet to be recorded, which might not otherwise be accounted for:
"Young men, we shall soon push you forth into the midst of a turbulent
world, to play such a part as the voice of God may assign you. You
go forth, amid the shouts and huzzahs of cheering friends, and the
anxious prayers of the faithful of God. The part that you play, the
character of your return journey, triumphant or inglorious, will
depend largely upon how well you have learned the lesson of this text.
Remember that the kingdom of God is within you. Do not go forth into
the world to demand favors of the world, but go forth to give unto the
world. Be strong in your own hearts.
"The world is like unto a wounded animal that has run a long way and
now lies stretched upon the ground, the blood oozing forth from gaping
wounds and pains darting through its entire frame. The huntsman, who
comes along to secure and drink the feverish milk of this animal that
is all but a rotting carcass, seriously endangers his own well being.
So, young men, do not look upon this dying, decaying world to feed
and support you. You must feed and support it. Carry fresh, warm,
invigorating blood in your veins to inject into the veins of the
world. This is far safer and nobler than sticking the lance into the
swollen veins of the world, to draw forth its putrid blood for your
own use. I not only exhort you but I warn you. You may go to this
dying animal as a surgeon, and proceed to cut off the sound portions
for your own use. You may deceive the world for awhile, but it will,
ere long, discover whether you are a vandal or a surgeon; and if it
finds you to be the former, when you are closest to its bosom, it will
squeeze you tightly and tear your face to shreds.
"I wish now to apply these thoughts to your immediate circumstances.
"You shall be called upon to play a part in the adjusting of positions
between the negro and Anglo-Saxon races of the South. The present
status of affairs cannot possibly remain. The Anglo-Saxon race must
surrender some of its outposts, and the negro will occupy these. To
bring about this evacuation on the part of the Anglo-Saxon, and the
forward march of the negro, will be your task. This is a grave and
delicate task, fraught with much good or evil, weal or woe. Let us
urge you to undertake it in the spirit to benefit the world, and not
merely to advance your own glory.
"The passions of men will soon be running high, and by feeding these
passions with the food for which they clamor you may attain the
designation of a hero. But, with all the energy of my soul, I exhort
you to not play with fire, merely for the sake of the glare that it
may cast upon you. Use no crisis for self-aggrandizement. Be so full
of your own soul's wealth that these temptations may not appeal to
you. When your vessel is ploughing the roughest seas and encountering
the fiercest gales, consult as your chart the welfare of the ship and
crew, though you may temporarily lose fame as a captain.
"Young men, you are highly favored of God. A glorious destiny awaits
your people. The gates of the beautiful land of the future are flung
wide. Your people stand before these gates peering eagerly within.
They are ready to march. They are waiting for their commanders and
the command to move forward. You are the commanders who must give the
command. I urge, I exhort, I beseech you, my dear boys, to think not
of yourselves. Let your kingdom be within. Lead them as they ought to
be led, taking no thought to your own glory.
"If you heed my voice you shall become true patriots. If you disregard
it, you will become time-serving demagogues, playing upon the passions
of the people for the sake of short-lived notoriety. Such men would
corral all the tigers in the forest and organize them into marauding
regiments simply for the honor of being in the lead. Be ye none of
these, my boys. May your Alma Mater never feel called upon to cry to
God in anguish to paralyze the hand that she herself has trained.
"Be not a burrowing parasite, feasting off of the world's raw blood.
Let the world draw life from you. Use not the misfortunes of your
people as stones of a monument erected to your name. If you do, the
iron fist of time will knock it over on your grave to crumble your
decaying bones to further dust.
"Always serve the world as the voice of good conscience, instructed by
a righteous God, may direct. Do this and thou shalt live; live in the
sweetened memory of your countrymen; live in the heart of your Alma
Mater; live when the earth is floating dust, when the stars are dead,
when the sun is a charred and blackened ruin; live on the bosom of
your Savior, by the throne of his God, in the eternal Heavens."
The teacher's soul was truly in his discourse and his thoughts sank
deep into the hearts of his hearers. None listened more attentively
than Belton. None were more deeply impressed than he. None more
readily incorporated the principles enumerated as a part of their
living lives.
When the preacher sat down he bowed his head in his hands. His frame
shook. His white locks fluttered in the gentle spring breeze. In
silence he prayed. He earnestly implored God to not allow his work
and words to be in vain. The same fervent prayer was on Belton's lips,
rising from the center of his soul. Somewhere, these prayers met,
locked arms and went before God together. In due time the answer came.
This sermon had much to do with Belton's subsequent career. But an
incident apparently trivial in itself was the occasion of a private
discourse that had even greater influence over him. It occurred
on Thursday following the night of the delivery of the sermon just
reported. It was on this wise:
Belton had, in everything, excelled his entire class, and was,
according to the custom, made valedictorian. His room-mate was
insanely jealous of him, and sought every way possible to humiliate
him. He had racked his brain for a scheme to play on Belton on
commencement day, and he at last found one that gave him satisfaction.
There was a student in Stowe University who was noted for his immense
height and for the size and scent of his feet. His feet perspired
freely, summer and winter, and the smell was exceedingly offensive. On
this account he roomed to himself. Whenever other students called to
see him he had a very effective way of getting rid of them, when he
judged that they had stayed long enough. He would complain of a corn
and forthwith pull off a shoe. If his room was crowded, this act
invariably caused it to be empty. The fame of these feet spread to
the teachers and young ladies, and, in fact, to the city. And the huge
Mississippian seemed to relish the distinction.
Whenever Belton was to deliver an oration he always arranged his
clothes the night beforehand. So, on the Wednesday night of the week
in question, he carefully brushed and arranged his clothes for the
next day. In the valedictory there were many really touching things,
and in rehearsing it before his room-mate Belton had often shed tears.
Fearing that he might he so touched that tears would come to his eyes
in the final delivery, he had bought a most beautiful and costly silk
handkerchief. He carefully stowed this away in the tail pocket of his
handsome Prince Albert suit of lovely black. He hung his coat in the
wardrobe, very carefully, so that he would merely have to take it down
and put it on the next day.
His room-mate watched his movements closely, but slyly. He arose when
he saw Belton hang his coat up. He went down the corridor until he
arrived at the room occupied by the Mississippian. He knocked, and
after some little delay, was allowed to enter.
The Mississippian was busy rehearsing his oration and did not care
to be bothered. But he sat down to entertain Belton's room-mate for a
while. He did not care to rehearse his oration before him and he felt
able to rout him at any time. They conversed on various things for
a while, when Belton's room-mate took up a book and soon appeared
absorbed in reading. He was sitting on one side of a study table
in the center of the room while the Mississippian was on the other.
Thinking that his visitor had now stayed about long enough, the
Mississippian stooped down quietly and removed one shoe. He slyly
watched Belton's room-mate, chuckling inwardly. But his fun died away
into a feeling of surprise when he saw that his shoeless foot was not
even attracting attention.
He stooped down and pulled off the other shoe, and his surprise
developed into amazement when he saw that the combined attack produced
no result. Belton's room-mate seemed absorbed in reading.
The Mississippian next pulled off his coat and pretending to yawn and
stretch, lifted his arms just so that the junction of his arm with
his shoulder was on a direct line with his visitor's nose.
Belton's room-mate made a slight grimace, but kept on reading. The
Mississippian was dumbfounded.
He then signified his intention of retiring to bed and undressed,
eyeing his visitor all the while, hoping that the scent of his whole
body would succeed.
He got into bed and was soon snoring loudly enough to be heard two or
three rooms away; but Belton's room-mate seemed to pay no attention to
the snoring.
The Mississippian gave up the battle in disgust, saying to himself:
"That fellow regards scents and noises just as though he was a
buzzard, hatched in a cleft of the roaring Niagara Falls." So saying,
he fell asleep in reality and the snoring increased in volume and
speed.
Belton's room-mate now took a pair of large new socks out of his
pocket and put them into the Mississippian's shoes, from which he took
the dirty socks already there. Having these dirty socks, he quietly
tips out of the room and returns to his and Belton's room.
Belton desired to make the speech of his life the next day, and had
retired to rest early so as to be in prime nervous condition for the
effort. His room-mate stole to the wardrobe and stealthily extracted
the silk handkerchief and put these dirty socks in its stead. Belton
was then asleep, perhaps dreaming of the glories of the morrow.
Thursday dawned and Belton arose, fresh and vigorous. He was cheerful
and buoyant that day; he was to graduate bedecked with all the honors
of his class. Mr. King, his benefactor, was to be present. His mother
had saved up her scant earnings and had come to see her son wind up
the career on which she had sent him forth, years ago.
The assembly room was decorated with choice flowers and presented
the appearance of the Garden of Eden. On one side of the room sat the
young lady pupils, while on the other the young men sat. Visitors from
the city came in droves and men of distinction sat on the platform.
The programme was a good one, but all eyes dropped to the bottom in
quest of Belton's name; for his fame as an orator was great, indeed.
The programme passed off as arranged, giving satisfaction and whetting
the appetite for Belton's oration. The president announced Belton's
name amid a thundering of applause. He stepped forth and cast a tender
look in the direction of the fair maiden who had contrived to send him
that tiny white bud that showed up so well on his black coat. He moved
to the center of the platform and was lustily cheered, he walked with
such superb grace and dignity.
He began his oration, capturing his audience with his first sentence
and bearing them along on the powerful pinions of his masterly
oratory; and when his peroration was over the audience drew its
breath and cheered wildly for many, many minutes. He then proceeded to
deliver the valedictory to the class. After he had been speaking for
some time, his voice began to break with emotion. As he drew near
to the most affecting portion he reached to his coat tail pocket to
secure his silk handkerchief to brush away the gathering tears. As
his hand left his pocket a smile was on well-nigh every face in the
audience, but Belton did not see this, but with bowed head, proceeded
with his pathetic utterances.
The audience of course was struggling between the pathos of his
remarks and the humor of those dirty socks.
Belton's sweetheart began to cry from chagrin and his mother grew
restless, anxious to tell him or let him know in some way. Belton's
head continued bowed in sadness, as he spoke parting words to his
beloved classmates, and lifted his supposed handkerchief to his eyes
to wipe away the tears that were now coming freely. The socks had thus
come close to Belton's nose and he stopped of a sudden and held them
at arm's length to gaze at that terrible, terrible scent producer.
When he saw what he held in his hand he flung them in front of him,
they falling on some students, who hastily brushed them off.
The house, by this time, was in an uproar of laughter; and the
astonished Belton gazed blankly at the socks lying before him. His
mind was a mass of confusion. He hardly knew where he was or what
he was doing. Self-possession, in a measure, returned to him, and he
said: "Ladies and gentlemen, these socks are from Mississippi. I am
from Virginia."
This reference to the Mississippian was greeted by an even louder
outburst of laughter. Belton bowed and left the platform, murmuring
that he would find and kill the rascal who had played that trick on
him. The people saw the terrible frown on his face, and the president
heard the revengeful words, and all feared that the incident was not
closed.
Belton hurried out of the speakers' room and hastily ran to the city
to purchase a pistol. Having secured it, he came walking back at a
furious pace. By this time the exercises were over and friends were
returning to town. They desired to approach Belton and compliment him,
and urge him to look lightly on his humorous finale; but he looked so
desperate that none dared to approach him.
The president was on the lookout for Belton and met him at the door of
the boys' dormitory. He accosted Belton tenderly and placed his hand
on his shoulder. Belton roughly pushed him aside and strode into the
building and roamed through it, in search of his room-mate, whom he
now felt assured did him the trick.
But his room-mate, foreseeing the consequences of detection, had made
beforehand every preparation for leaving and was now gone. No one
could quiet Belton during that whole day, and he spent the night
meditating plans for wreaking vengeance.
The next morning the president came over early, and entering Belton's
room, was more kindly received. He took Belton's hand in his and sat
down near his side. He talked to Belton long and earnestly, showing
him what an unholy passion revenge was. He showed that such a passion
would mar any life that yielded to it.
Belton, he urged, was about to allow a pair of dirty socks to wreck
his whole life. He drew a picture of the suffering Savior, crying out
between darting pains the words of the sentence, the most sublime ever
uttered: "Lord forgive them for they know not what they do." Belton
was melted to tears of repentance for his unholy passion.
Before the president left Belton's side he felt sure that henceforth a
cardinal principle of his life would be to allow God to avenge all his
wrongs. It was a narrow escape for Belton; but he thanked God for the
lesson, severe as it was, to the day of his death. The world will
also see how much it owes to God for planting that lesson in Belton's
heart.
Let us relate just one more incident that happened at the winding
up of Belton's school life. As we have intimated, one young lady, a
student of the school, was very near to Belton. Though he did not love
her, his regard for her was very deep and his respect very great.
School closed on Thursday, and the students were allowed to remain in
the buildings until the following Monday, when, ordinarily, they left.
The young men were allowed to provide conveyances for the young
ladies to get to the various depots. They esteemed that a very great
privilege.
Belton, as you know, was a very poor lad and had but little money.
After paying his expenses incident to his graduation, and purchasing
a ticket home, he now had just one dollar and a quarter left. Out of
this one dollar and a quarter he was to pay for a carriage ride of
this young lady friend to the railway station. This, ordinarily, cost
one dollar, and Belton calculated on having a margin of twenty-five
cents. But you would have judged him the happy possessor of a large
fortune, merely to look at him.
The carriage rolled up to the girls' dormitory and Belton's friend
stood on the steps, with her trunks, three in number. When Belton saw
that his friend had three trunks, his heart sank. In order to be sure
against exorbitant charges the drivers were always made to announce
their prices before the journey was commenced. A crowd of girls was
standing around to bid the young lady adieu. In an off-hand way Belton
said: "Driver what is your fee?" He replied: "For you and the young
lady and the trunks, two dollars, sir."
Belton almost froze in his tracks, but, by the most heroic struggling,
showed no signs of discomfiture on his face. Endeavoring to affect an
air of indifference, he said: "What is the price for the young lady
and the trunks?"
"One dollar and fifty cents."
Belton's eyes were apparently fixed on some spot in the immensity of
space. The driver, thinking that he was meditating getting another
hackman to do the work, added: "You can call any hackman you choose
and you won't find one who will do it for a cent less."
Belton's last prop went with this statement. He turned to his friend
smilingly and told her to enter, with apparently as much indifference
as a millionaire. He got in and sat by her side; but knew not how on
earth he was to get out of his predicament.
The young lady chatted gayly and wondered at Belton's dullness.
Belton, poor fellow, was having a tough wrestle with poverty and
was trying to coin something out of nothing. Now and then, at some
humorous remark, he would smile a faint, sickly smile. Thus it went on
until they arrived at the station. Belton by this time decided upon a
plan of campaign.
They alighted from the carriage and Belton escorted his friend into
the coach. He then came back to speak to the driver. He got around the
corner of the station house, out of sight of the train and beckoned
for the driver to come to him. The driver came and Belton said:
"Friend, here is one dollar and a quarter. It is all I have. Trust me
for the balance until tomorrow."
"Oh! no," replied the driver. "I must have my money to-day. I have to
report to-night and my money must go in. Just fork over the balance,
please."
"Well," said Belton rather independently--for he felt that he now had
the upper hand,--"I have given you all the money that I have. And you
have got to trust me for the balance. You can't take us back," and
Belton started to walk away.
The driver said: "May be that girl has some money. I'll see her."
Terror immediately seized Belton, and he clutched at the man eagerly,
saying: "Ah, no, now, don't resort to any such foolishness. Can't you
trust a fellow?" Belton was now talking very persuasively.
The driver replied: "I don't do business that way. If I had known that
you did not have the money I would not have brought you. I am going to
the young lady."
Belton was now thoroughly frightened and very angry; and he planted
himself squarely in front of the driver and said: "You shall do no
such thing!"
The driver heard the train blow and endeavored to pass. Belton grasped
him by the collar and putting a leg quickly behind him, tripped him
to the ground, falling on top of him. The driver struggled, but Belton
succeeded in getting astride of him and holding him down. The train
shortly pulled out, and Belton jumped up and ran to wave a good-bye to
his girl friend.
Later in the day, the driver had him arrested and the police justice
fined him ten dollars. A crowd of white men who heard Belton's story,
admired his respect for the girl, and paid the fine for him and made
up a purse.
At Stowe University, Belton had learned to respect women. It was in
these schools that the work of slavery in robbing the colored women of
respect, was undone. Woman now occupied the same position in Belton's
eye as she did in the eye of the Anglo-Saxon.
There is hope for that race or nation that respects its women. It was
for the smile of a woman that the armored knight of old rode forth
to deeds of daring. It is for the smile of women that the soldier of
to-day endures the hardships of the camp and braves the dangers of the
field of battle.
The heart of man will joyfully consent to be torn to pieces if the
lovely hand of woman will only agree to bind the parts together again
and heal the painful wounds.
The Negro race had left the last relic of barbarism behind, and this
young negro, fighting to keep that cab driver from approaching the
girl for a fee, was but a forerunner of the negro, who, at the voice
of a woman, will fight for freedom until he dies, fully satisfied if
the hand that he worships will only drop a flower on his grave.
Belton's education was now complete, as far as the school-room goes.
What will he do with it?