“But understond in thine entent That this is not mine entendement, To clepe no wight in no ages Onely gentle for his linages: Though he be not gentle borne, Than maiest well seine this in sooth, That he is gentle because he doth As longeth to a gentleman.”[200] This beautiful testimony, to which the honest heart responds, is from an age when humanity was less regarded than now. Plainly it shows how conduct and character are realities, while other things are but accidents. Among the Romans degradation ended with life. Slaves were admitted to honorable sepulture, and sometimes slept the last sleep with their masters. The slaves of Augustus and Livia were buried on the famous Appian Way, where their tombs with historic inscriptions have survived the centuries.[201] “Bury him with his niggers,” was the rude order of the Rebel officer, as he flung the precious remains of our admirable Colonel Shaw into the common trench at Fort Wagner, where he fell, mounting the parapets at the head of colored troops. And so was he buried, lovely in death as in life. The intended insult became an honor. In that common trench the young hero rests, symbolizing the great Equality for which he died. No Roman monument, with its _Siste, viator_, to the passing traveller, no “labor of an age in pilèd stones,” can match in grandeur that simple burial. PREJUDICE OF COLOR. MR. PRESIDENT, against these conclusions there is but one argument, which, when considered, is nothing but a prejudice, as little rational as what Shylock first calls his “humor” and then “a lodged hate and a certain loathing,” making him seek the pound of flesh nearest the merchant’s heart. The prejudice of color pursues its victim in the long pilgrimage from the cradle to the grave, barring the hotel, excluding from the public conveyance, insulting at the theatre, closing the school, shutting the gates of science, and playing its fantastic tricks even in the church where he kneels and the grave where his dust mingles with the surrounding earth. The God-given color of the African is a constant offence to the disdainful white, who, like the pretentious lord, asking Hotspur for prisoners, can bear nothing so unhandsome “betwixt the wind and his nobility.” This is the whole case. And shall those Equal Rights promised by the great Declaration be sacrificed to a prejudice? Shall that Equality before the Law, which is the best part of citizenship, be denied to those who do not happen to be white? Is this a white man’s government or is it a government of “all men,” as declared by our fathers? Is it a Republic of Equal Laws, or an Oligarchy of the Skin? This is the question now presented.