John B. Gough and Clara Barton at one time lived in the same town; were personal friends; in the lecture season, successively talked from the same platform. These two Americans were each as timid, probably, as ever appeared before a public audience. But each achieved an enviable reputation as a platform lecturer. The morning following one of his inimitable temperance lectures, I remarked: “Mr. Gough, I wish I had your assurance before an audience.” “Young man,” he replied, “you don’t know me. I have given thousands of lectures, but I never rise to address an audience that my knees don’t knock together, from stage fright. Last night, as I arose to address that splendid body of college boys, I was scared stiff; for some moments I was so frightened I couldn’t utter a word.” In his autobiography he wrote: “For thirty-seven years I have been a public speaker, but have never known the time when I did not dread an audience. Often that fear amounts to positive suffering. In my suffering, trembling seizes every nerve.” Clara Barton was a timid child; so much so as to annoy her parents, and other friends. When about eight years of age she was sent away to school in the hope that, among strangers, she would become at ease in the presence of others. At school she grew tired; became thin and pale; said she was hungry, but refused to eat. It was suspected that it was all on account of her timidity, and that she might die of starvation. Because she dared not eat, the teacher returned her to her home. In referring to this experience, and her later experiences in the presence of strangers, a few years before she died, she said: “To this day I would rather stand behind the lines of artillery at Antietam, or cross the pontoon bridge under fire at Fredericksburg, than to preside at a public meeting.” XXXIII The negro has no linguistic laws—his pathetically musical speech is fast dying away—only will linger the salient printed form to convey to the future some idea of the olden dialect. LA SALLE CORBELL PICKETT—“_In de Miz Series_.” I know of the intelligence of the negro, for I have heard of his unquestioned loyalty between every war of our land from Bunker Hill to the Argonne. SECRETARY OF THE NAVY DANIELS. The only flag the negro ever carried was when his spirit was stirred crimson by the sacrificial blood he gave for America. Cite me a negro traitor! JUSTICE STAFFORD. In the World War, in France up in the zone where death was spread about I found the black man and the white man fallen side by side. SECRETARY OF WAR BAKER. The courage that faces death on the battlefield, or calmly awaits it in the hospital, is not the courage of race or color. CLARA BARTON. Two of the bravest men I ever saw lay wounded, almost side by side, one white and the other black. CLARA BARTON.