First it came casually, in the
cadence of a voice: "Oh, colored folks? Yes." Or perhaps
more definitely: "What do you EXPECT?" In voice and gesture
lay the doubt--the temptation of Doubt. How he hated it, and
stormed at it furiously! "Of course they are capable," he
cried; "of course they can learn and strive and achieve--"
and "Of course," added the temptation softly, "they do
nothing of the sort." Of all the three temptations, this one
struck the deepest. Hate? He had outgrown so childish a
thing. Despair? He had steeled his right arm against it, and
fought it with the vigor of determination. But to doubt the
worth of his life-work,--to doubt the destiny and capability
of the race his soul loved because it was his; to find listless
squalor instead of eager endeavor; to hear his own lips whisper-
ing, "They do not care; they cannot know; they are dumb
driven cattle,--why cast your pearls before swine?"--this,
this seemed more than man could bear; and he closed the
door, and sank upon the steps of the chancel, and cast his
robe upon the floor and writhed.
The evening sunbeams had set the dust to dancing in the
gloomy chapel when he arose.
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