Now, the crisis in that person's affairs comes when the question
arises whether his education has increased his ability to supply his
wants. Such an ability, I claim, is one of the results of industrial
education. By such an education as that, while we are getting culture
along all the lines that in any degree tend to increase the wants of a
person, we are, in the meantime, getting skill to increase our ability
to supply these wants. And, unless we have this ability, we will find,
sooner or later, that instead of going forward we are going backward.
I think that the temptation for us, especially for those who are only
half educated, is to try to get hold of a certain kind of shallow
culture, instead of getting the substantial--instead of getting hold of
real education, of property and material prosperity.
You who study history know how the Pilgrim Fathers, who landed at
Plymouth Rock in the bleak winter of 1620, were willing to wear
homespun clothes, and to be married in them, if necessary, and to
have a wedding that in all would not cost more than four dollars, I
suppose. On the other hand, when one of our boys wants to get married
now, he must have a wedding that costs not less than one hundred and
fifty dollars. His wife must have a dress with a long train, and he
must have a Prince Albert, broadcloth coat that he either rents, or
buys on the instalment plan. They think that they must have a bevy of
waiting bridesmaids, and there must be a line of hacks standing on the
outside of the church door that will cost him not less than twenty-five
dollars. Then, after the ceremony, where do these people go to live?
The chances are the young man who has been to all this expense for the
sake of the show of it, takes his bride to live in a small cabin with
only two rooms--sometimes only one room--rented at that.
This is what I mean by getting the superficial culture before the
dollars are made; grasping at the shadow instead of the substance. Now
what we want to do here is to send out a set of young men and young
women who will go into the communities where such mistakes as these
are made, and show the people by example and by work how much better
it is to get married for four dollars, and to pay as you go, than to
get married for a hundred and fifty dollars, and then pay four dollars
a month to live in a rented cabin. When I go to New York, or to any
large city, there is nothing more discouraging than to see people of
this very class I am speaking of, people who seek the superficial
culture, the shadow, rather than the substantial dollars and education.
If you stand for a few minutes on any of the fashionable streets in the
Northern cities, you will see these elaborately dressed men, wearing
five dollar hats on heads that at most are not worth more than fifty
cents. This is the class of people who have got just enough education
to make them want everything they see, but who have not got enough to
make them able to get what they want unless they go beyond their means
to do so.
A superficial education, too, makes us inclined to seek show in other
things besides dress. We are inclined, for one thing, to seek to show
off in the use of titles. I remember that once I was introduced to a
company of about sixty men, and out of the whole number there were only
six who were not doctors, professors, or colonels, or who did not have
some title. I must say I thought more of the six who were just plain
misters than I did of all the rest, for among the others there were
some very hard-looking doctors and professors. An over-desire for these
things shows a shallowness in us which makes us ridiculous. We want
to stop making that kind of mistake. If you are a mister, encourage
the people to call you by that title. If you are a minister and preach
interesting and instructive sermons, people are going to be impressed
by what you say and not by the title you bear. The title is the shadow;
what you say is the substance.
When a person is simple, he is on the strong side. People not only
have more respect for him, but he accomplishes more. I was once at
a memorial meeting held in honour of a man who had done a great and
useful work, not only for the race but for the school with which he had
been connected. After about two hours of speechmaking, somebody took
the platform and said that a collection ought to be taken up for the
benefit of the school which this man had worked so hard for, to show
the appreciation which those present felt for this man's services.
After a good deal of talk, $6.65 was collected. Then the question was
raised again as to what was going to be done with this money--just how
it was to be donated to the school.
The meeting had passed a set of resolutions testifying to the high
character of the man and the worth of his work. Somebody suggested
that these resolutions be engrossed and sent to the school. This was
a big word, and the people liked the sound of it. Upon inquiry it was
found that it would cost $6.00 to have the resolutions engrossed. It
was voted to have this done, and it was done; when the resolutions
would have done just as much good typewritten, at a cost of twenty-five
cents. But the meeting paid out the $6.00, and sent the engrossed copy
of the resolutions down to the school, along with the sixty-five cents
left to be expended for the help of the school. That, it seemed to me,
was another case of grasping the shadow instead of the substance. The
engrossed resolutions were the shadow; the sixty-five cents were all
that was left of the substance.
In all these matters we need speedy and effective reforms. We want you
to go out into the world and use your influence toward securing these
reforms. There are too many people in the world who give their whole
lives to grasping at the shadow instead of the substance--grasping at
a sham instead of real worth. We want you to teach by word and action
simple, right and honest living.
CHARACTER AS SHOWN IN DRESS
It is surprising how much we can tell about a person's character by his
dress. I think it is very seldom that we cannot tell whether a person
is ignorant or educated, simply by his dress; and there are some few,
plain facts about dress that I am going to mention to you to-night.
While it is hard to lay down any rules as to how we must dress, I
think there are some well-defined principles of dress to which all
well-educated persons will conform.
I think we will all agree that our dress should be clean. There is
little excuse for persons wearing filthy clothes--I think we all will
agree as to that. It is disgraceful for a man to go about with ragged
clothes or with clothes fastened together with pins where buttons ought
to be. It is disgraceful for a girl to go about with a soiled apron, or
with her clothes pinned together. Our clothes should be kept clean and
in good repair. Thus far, I think, we shall have no disagreement.
But there are some people who make the mistake of giving their
whole mind to the subject of dress. From the very beginning of the
week you will find that a great part of their thought and attention
is given to planning what they are going to wear the next Sunday.
Some people will go in rags all through the week, in order to have
something showy to wear on Sunday. I think we should respect Sunday by
putting on something different from what we wear during the week if
we can--although of course these things are largely governed by our
station in life--but even then it certainly is inappropriate to wear
our most showy clothes on that day.
Dress in the way that your pocket will allow. There are some persons
who not only employ all their thoughts in considering what they shall
wear, but also spend all their money on their clothes.
There are some persons who live for the sake of dress. These persons
are usually denominated "fops." I think the people in the Northern
cities are the worst in this respect. If you go through Sixth Avenue,
in New York, or Cambridge Street, in Boston, you will see many of these
fops, who perhaps earn about twenty dollars a month, standing on the
street corners with kid gloves on, cigars between their lips, and high
hats. Now that kind of a person is a foolish fop, and one whom we do
not care to have in this institution. There is no more foolish person
than the one who spends all he makes, and sometimes more, on dress.
Then, too, I think there are persons who make mistakes in the matter
of ornaments--what we call jewellery. You will find many a man whose
income is not twenty dollars a month wearing a great brass watch chain
with so much brass in it that you can almost smell it. You will see
men and women with three or four brass finger rings, or women with
brass ear-rings. Do you know that one of the most common mistakes among
the masses of our people in the country is throwing away their money
on cheap jewellery? Do you know that they will come in to town to
the stores, and spend their money on jewellery worth about ten cents
apiece, jewellery that you actually can get for six dollars and seven
dollars a bushel at wholesale? Our people spend thousands of dollars
every year for this cheap jewellery. If there is a young man or a young
woman here who likes jewellery, and is going to indulge in it, be sure
to get that which is modest.
Another mistake that some of our people make is in wearing flashy or
loud dress--dress in which bright colours and red ribbons predominate.
Our dress should be modest; with few colours.
We often make a mistake in getting shoes about two sizes too small.
I saw a girl this morning in perfect misery, simply because she had
bought, and was trying to wear, a pair of shoes about two sizes too
small. Such people simply punish their feet to make people think they
have small feet, though it is just as honourable to have a large foot
as a small one; there is no difference. Then we make another mistake
in buying cheap, showy shoes simply because they have a gloss on
them. Such shoes are made to attract attention, and not for comfort
or durability. When you are spending your money for shoes, be sure
that you get something good, something that will last you. Do not buy
those worthless things, which, when they come in contact with water,
will shrivel up because they are made of cheap material. A man cannot
respect a girl who punishes her feet in order to make them look small.
Then, another thing. Some of us think we can improve our colour. Some
get flour, and others get other kinds of mixtures which are called
face powders. There is no use for this. Any man will lose respect for
a girl who abuses herself in this way. Only get something into your
head, and then you will find that these matters of dress will adjust
themselves. While some of you do not dress so well as you might, yet,
if you will give the contents of your heads the proper attention, you
will find that the matter of dress will not trouble you. You can get
dresses and clothes after you have secured your education, but now is
the only time that you have in which to secure the education.
SING THE OLD SONGS
There is no part of our chapel exercises that gives me more pleasure
than the beautiful Negro melodies which you sing. I believe there is no
part of the service more truly spiritual, more elevating. Wherever you
go, after you leave this school, I hope that you will never give up the
singing of these songs. If you go out to have schools of your own, have
your pupils sing them as you have sung them here, and teach them to
see the beauty which dwells in these songs. When in New York, not long
ago, I had the pleasure of conversing with Prince Henry of Prussia, he
spoke particularly of the beauty of these songs, and said that in his
own home, in Germany, he and his family often sing them. He asked if
there was any printed collection of these songs, that a copy might be
sent him, and I have since then forwarded to him a copy of the book
of plantation melodies collected and published under the auspices of
Hampton Institute.
When Christ was upon this earth He said: "A little child shall lead
them." Whence comes this supreme power of leadership? In this age, when
we hear so much said about leaders of men, about successful leadership,
we do well to stop to consider this admonition of the Saviour. Some
are said to lead in business, others in education, others in politics,
or in religion. What is the explanation of "A little child shall lead
them?" Simply this. A little child, under all circumstances, is its
simple, pure, sweet self; never appearing big when it is little; never
appearing learned when it is ignorant; never appearing wealthy when it
is in poverty; never appearing important when it is unimportant. In a
word, the life of the child is founded upon the great and immutable,
and yet simple, tender and delicate laws of nature. There is no
pretence. There is no mockery.
There is an unconscious, beautiful, strong clinging to truth; and
it is this divine quality in child or in man, in Jew or Gentile, in
Christian or Mohammedan, in the ancient world or in the modern world,
in a black man or in a white man, that always has led men and moulded
their activity. The men who have been brave enough, wise enough, simple
enough, self-denying enough to plant themselves upon this rock of
truth and there stand, have, in the end, drawn the world unto them,
even as Christ said: "I will draw all men unto me." Such a man was
Luther, such a man was Wesley, such a man was Carlyle, such a man was
Cromwell, such were Garrison and Phillips, such was Abraham Lincoln,
and such was our own great Frederick Douglass.
The thing aimed at by all great souls has been to bring men and races
back to the simplicity and purity of childhood--back to reality.
What is the most original product with which the Negro race stands
accredited? Yes, I am almost ready to add, with which America stands
accredited? Without hesitation I answer:--Those beautiful, weird,
quaint, sweet melodies which were the simple, child-like expression of
the anguish, the joy, the hopes, the burdens, the faith, the trials of
our forefathers who wore the yoke of slavery.
Why are they the admiration of the world? Why does every attempt at
improvement spoil them? Why do they never fail to touch the tenderest
chord--to bring tears from the eyes of rich and poor--from king and
humblest toiler alike?
Listen how in this beautiful song the soul in trouble is told not to go
to houses and temples made by man, but to get close to Nature:
Ef yer want to see Jesus
Go in de wilderness,
Go in de wilderness,
Go in de wilderness,
Go in de wilderness.
If yer want to see Jesus,
Go in de wilderness
Leanin' on de Lord.
Oh brudder, how d'ye feel, when ye come out de wilderness,
Come out de wilderness,
Come out de wilderness,
Oh, brudder, how d'ye feel, when ye come out de wilderness,
Leanin' on de Lord?
Then, in another, hear how our foreparents broke through all the
deceptions and allurements of false wealth, and in their long days of
weariness expressed their faith in a place where every day would be one
of rest:
Oh, religion is a fortune,
I r'a'ly do believe.
Oh, religion is a fortune,
I r'a'ly do believe.
Oh, religion is a fortune,
I r'a'ly do believe,
Whar Sabbaths hab no end.
Whar yo' been, poor mourner, whar yo' been so long?
"Been down in de valley, for to pray;
An' I ain't done prayin' yet."
Then, how, when oppressed by years of servitude to which others
thought there would be no end, we hear them break out into quaint and
wild bursts of appeal to fact:
My Lord delibered Daniel,
My Lord delibered Daniel,
My Lord delibered Daniel;
Why can't He deliber me?
I met a pilgrim on de way, an' I ask him where he's gwine.
"I'm bound for Canaan's happy lan',
An' dis is de shoutin' band.
Go on."
He delibered Daniel from de lion's den,
Jonah from de belly ob de whale,
An' de Hebrew children from de fiery furnace.
Den why not ebery man?"
Or when the burden seemed almost too great for human body to endure,
there came this simple, child-like prayer:
O Lord, O, my Lord, O, my good Lord,
Keep me from sinkin' down.
O Lord, O my Lord, O my good Lord,
Keep me from sinkin' down.
I tell yo' what I mean to do.
Keep me from sinkin' down.
I mean to go to hebben, too.
Keep me from sinkin' down.
Or what could go more directly to Nature's heart than the pathetic yet
hopeful, trustful outburst of the little slave boy who was to be taken
from his mother to be sold into the far South, when it seemed to him
that all earthly happiness was forever blighted. Hear him:
I'm gwine to jine de great 'sociation,
I'm gwine to jine de great 'sociation,
I'm gwine to jine de great 'sociation.
Den my little soul's gwine to shine, shine;
Den my little soul's gwine to shine along. Oh!
I'm gwine to climb up Jacob's ladder.
Den my little soul's gwine to shine, shine.
Den my little soul's gwine to shine along. Oh!
I'm gwine to climb up higher an' higher.
Den my little soul's gwine, etc
I'm gwine to sit at de welcome table
I'm gwine to feast off milk an' honey.
I'm gwine to tell God how-a' you sarved me.
Den my little soul's gwine to shine, shine.
Den my little soul's gwine to shine along. Oh!
And so it has ever been, so it is, and ever will be. The world,
regardless of race, or colour, or condition, admires and approves a
real thing. But sham, buffoonery, mere imitation, mere superficiality,
never has brought success and never will bring it.
An individual or a race that is strong enough, is wise enough, to
disregard makeshifts, customs, prejudices, alluring temptations,
deceptions, imitations--to throw off the mask of unreality and plant
itself deep down in the clay, or on the solid granite of nature, is
the individual or the race that will crawl up, struggle up, yes, even
burst up; and in the effort of doing so will gain a strength that will
command for it respect and recognition. Before an individual or a race
thus equipped, race prejudice, senseless customs, oppressions, will
hide their faces forever in blushing shame.
GETTING DOWN TO MOTHER EARTH
One of the highest ambitions of every man leaving Tuskegee Institute
should be to help the people of his race find bottom--find bed
rock--and then help them to stand upon that foundation. If we who
are interested in the school can help you to do this, we shall count
ourselves satisfied. And until the bed-rock of our life is found,
and until we are planted thereon, all else is but plaster, but
make-believe, but the paper on the walls of a house without framework.
That is one of the stepping stones with which nature has provided
us. Here the path is plain, if we have the courage to follow it.
Eighty-five per cent. of the people of the Negro race live--or attempt
to live--by some form of agriculture. If we would save the race, and
lift it up, here is the great opportunity around which, in a large
measure, individual, organized, religious and secular effort should
centre for the next fifty years.
But to do this we must take advantage of the forces at hand. We must
stand upon our own feet, and not upon a foundation supplied by another.
We must begin our growth where our civilization finds us, and not try
to begin on some other civilization.
To illustrate what I mean, we need not go to another race, nor very far
from home. In a little town in Alabama there was a sturdy, industrious
black man who for nearly twenty years had lived upon rented land, had
hired mules and horses to work that land, and had mortgaged his crops
to secure food and clothes. He had driven to church on Sunday in a
buggy that was not his, and he wore good-looking clothes that were not
paid for. In outward appearance he seemed to prosper. He seemed to be
what the white men about him were.
But this black man knew that he was trying to stand upon an imperfect
basis. And so, one day about a dozen years ago, he made up his mind
that henceforth he would be himself--that he would stand upon his own
foundation. He told the white man to take back his mules, to take back
his waggon and buggy; and he gave up the rented land. He had resolved
to be a man. A few acres of land were secured. He made his bed in the
cotton seed at night. He hired a boy to come to his place at night,
and by moonlight he pulled a plough which the boy guided. In this way
a cotton crop was made free from debt. With the small surplus which he
got from this he bought an ox, and with this beast made a second crop
free from debt. A mule was bought, and then another. To-day this man is
the owner of a comfortable home, is a stockholder in one of the banks
of his county, and his note or check will be honoured by any business
house there. While others were talking, or debating over second-hand
doctrines learned by rote, this strong son of nature had found himself
and solved his own problem.
I might tell you the story of another man of our race who began his
successful business life in the hollow of a tree for his home; without
furniture or bed-clothing. But that tree, and the land on which it
stood, were his own. You had better begin life in a hollow tree and
be a man, than begin it in a rented house and be a mere tool, the
imitation of a man. If you were to go into the Western part of this
country you would find it filled with men of the highest culture,
profound scholarship, and enduring wealth, whose ancestors a few
generations ago began life in a dug-out, in a hay loft, or in a hole
in the side of a mountain. Young men and young women, there is no
escape. If we would be great, and good, and useful, we must pay the
price. And remember that when we get down to the fundamental principles
of truth, nature draws no colour line.
I do not want to startle you when I say it, but I should like to see
during the next fifty years every coloured minister and teacher, whose
work lies outside the large cities, armed with a thorough knowledge
of theoretical and practical agriculture, in connection with his
theological and academic training. This, I believe, should be so
because the race is an agricultural one, and because my hope is that it
will remain such. Upon this foundation almost every race in history has
got its start. With cheap lands, a beautiful climate and a rich soil,
we can lay the foundation of a great and powerful race. The question
that confronts us is whether we will take advantage of this opportunity?
In a recent number of the New York _Independent_, Rev. Russel
H. Conwell, the pastor of the great Temple Baptist Church, in
Philadelphia, a church that has a membership of three thousand persons,
tells of the pastor of a small country church in Massachusetts who,
in perplexity at the eternally recurring question of how to make his
church pay its expenses, asked Mr. Conwell's advice. "I advised him,"
Mr. Conwell says, "to study agricultural chemistry, dairy farming
and household economy. I meant the advice seriously, and he took it
seriously. He made his studies, and he made them thoroughly. On the
Sunday when he preached his first practical sermon which was the
outgrowth of his helpful learning, its topic was scientific manures,
with appropriate scriptural allusions. He had just seventeen listeners.
These seventeen, however, were greatly interested. Later on, they
discussed the remarkable departure with their friends who had not
attended the service. The result was that within five Sundays the
church was packed with worshippers, who had discovered that heaven is
not such a long distance from earth after all."
In the present condition of our race, what an immense gain it would be
if from every church in the vast agricultural region of the South there
could be preached every Sunday two sermons on religion, and a lesson
or lecture given on the principles of intelligent agriculture, on the
importance of the ownership of land, and on the importance of building
comfortable homes. I believe that if this policy could be pursued,
instead of the now too often poorly clothed, poorly fed, and poorly
housed ministers, with salaries ranging from one hundred to three
hundred dollars a year, we should soon have communities and churches
on their feet, to such an extent that hundreds of ministers who now
live at a dying rate would be supported in a manner commensurate with
the dignity of the profession. Not only this, but such a policy would
result in giving the ministry such an ideal of the dignity of labour
and such a love for it, that the minister's own home and garden and
farm would be constant object lessons for his followers, and at the
same time sources from which he could draw a support which would make
him in a large measure independent.