This, for example, I have done in regard to
the evil habit of lynching. When the Louisiana State Constitutional
Convention was in session, I wrote an open letter to that body
pleading for justice for the race. In all such efforts I have
received warm and hearty support from the Southern newspapers, as well
as from those in all other parts of the country.
Despite superficial and temporary signs which might lead one to
entertain a contrary opinion, there was never a time when I felt more
hopeful for the race than I do at the present. The great human law
that in the end recognizes and rewards merit is everlasting and
universal. The outside world does not know, neither can it
appreciate, the struggle that is constantly going on in the hearts of
both the Southern white people and their former slaves to free
themselves from racial prejudice; and while both races are thus
struggling they should have the sympathy, the support, and the
forbearance of the rest of the world.
As I write the closing words of this autobiography I find myself
-- not by design -- in the city of Richmond, Virginia: the city which
only a few decades ago was the capital of the Southern Confederacy,
and where, about twenty-five years ago, because of my poverty I slept
night after night under a sidewalk.
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