The Preacher smiled and continued, “Then I’ve heard some ugly things
about you, Eph,” suddenly darting a piercing look straight into his
face.
“Who, me?”
“Yes, you. And I can’t afford to go into the pulpit with you any more.
In the old slavery days you were taught the religion of Christ. It
didn’t mean crime, and lust, and lying, and drinking, whatever it meant.
Your religion has come to be a stench. You are getting lower and lower.
You will be governed by no one. I can’t use force. I leave you alone.
You have gone beyond me.”
“But de Lawd lub a sinner, en his mercy enduref for-eber!” solemnly
grumbled Ephraim.
“In the old days,” persisted the Preacher, “I used to preach to your
people. I saw before me many men of character, carpenters, bricklayers,
wheelwrights, farmers, faithful home servants that loved their masters
and were faithful unto death. Now I see a cheap lot of thieves and
jailbirds and trifling women seated in high places. You have shown no
power to stand alone on the solid basis of character.”
“Why Brer’ Durham,” urged Eph in an injured voice, “I baptised inter de
kingdom over a hundred precious souls las’ year!”
“Yes, but what they needed was not a baptism of water. You negroes
need a racial baptism into truth, integrity, virtue, self-restraint,
industry, courage, patience, and purity of manhood and womanhood. I used
to be hopeful about you, but I’d just as well be frank with you,
I’ve given you up. I’ve said the grace of God was sufficient for all
problems. I don’t know now. I’m getting older and it grows darker to me.
I have come to believe there are some things God Almighty can not do.
Can God make a stone so big He can’t lift it? In either event, He is not
omnipotent. It looks like He did just that thing when He made the Negro.
Leave me out of your calculation, Ephraim.”
“Mus’ gib de nigger time, Preacher!” Eph muttered as he walked slowly
away.
When Gaston emerged from the court house, the Preacher joined him and
they walked home to the hotel together.
“What did the two farmers on your committee think of the chances of
preventing the Alliance from joining the negroes?”
“Not much of them. They say we can’t do anything with them when the test
comes, unless we will endorse their scheme of issuing money on corn and
pumpkins and potatoes stored in a government barn. If it comes to that,
I will not prostitute my intellect by advocating any such measure on the
floor of our convention. We stand for one thing at least, the supremacy
of Anglo-Saxon civilisation. I had rather be beaten by the negroes and
their allies this time on such an issue.”
“But, my boy, if McLeod and his negroes get control of this state for
four years, they can so corrupt its laws and its electorate, they may
hold it a quarter of a century. We must fight to the last ditch.”
“I draw the line at pumpkin leaves for money,” insisted Gaston.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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