W.E.B. Du Bois: “A sort of suppressed terror hung in the air and seemed to seize us,—a pythian madness, a demoniac possession, that lent…”

The silently growing assumption of this age is that the probation of races is past, and that the backward races of to-day are of proven inefficiency and not worth the saving.

If somewhere in this whirl and chaos of things there dwells Eternal Good, pitiful yet masterful, then anon in His good time America shall rend the Veil and the prisoned shall go free.

So long as the world stands meekly dumb before such questions, shall this nation proclaim its ignorance and unhallowed prejudices by denying freedom of opportunity to those who brought the Sorrow Songs to the Seats of the Mighty?

But whichever it is, the meaning is always clear: that sometime, somewhere, men will judge men by their souls and not by their skins.