W.E.B. Du Bois: “Who does the physical work of the world, those whose muscles need the exercise or those whose souls and minds are…”

In song and exhortation swelled one refrain—Liberty; in his tears and curses the God he implored had Freedom in his right hand.

Years have passed away since then,—ten, twenty, forty; forty years of national life, forty years of renewal and development, and yet the swarthy spectre sits in its accustomed seat at the Nation’s feast.

The form and disposition of the laborers’ cabins throughout the Black Belt is to-day the same as in slavery days.

They approach me in a half-hesitant sort of way, eye me curiously or compassionately, and then, instead of saying directly, How does it feel to be a problem? they say, I know an excellent colored man in my town; or, I fought at…