Violence, Naked Force, Has Settled More Issues

Now Is The Accepted Time, Not Tomorrow, Not Some More Convenient Season. It Is Today That Our Best Work Can Be Done And Not Some Future Day Or Future Year. It Is Today That We Fit Ourselves For The Greater Usefulness Of Tomorrow. Today Is The Seed Time, Now Are The Hours Of Work, And Tomorrow Comes The Harvest And The Playtime.

One Reads The Truer Deeper Facts Of Reconstruction With A Great Despair. It Is At Once So Simple And Human, And Yet So Futile. There Is No Villain, No Idiot, No Saint. There Are Just Men; Men Who Crave Ease And Power, Men Who Know Want And Hunger, Men Who Have Crawled. They All Dream And Strive With Ecstasy Of Fear And Strain Of Effort, Balked Of Hope And Hate. Yet The Rich World Is Wide Enough For All, Wants All, Needs All. So Slight A Gesture, A Word, Might Set The Strife In Order, Not With Full Content, But With Growing Dawn Of Fulfillment. Instead Roars The Crash Of Hell.

I Believe That All Men, Black And Brown And White, Are Brothers, Varying Through Time And Opportunity, In Form And Gift And Feature, But Differing In No Essential Particular, And Alike In Soul And The Possibility Of Infinite Development.

I Believe In Pride Of Race And Lineage And Self: In Pride Of Self So Deep As To Scorn Injustice To Other Selves.

At Best, The Natural Good-nature Is Edged With Complaint Or Has Changed Into Sullenness And Gloom. And Now And Then It Blazes Forth In Veiled But Hot Anger.