am tinged with African blood is wholly unsuspected. You understand, I
think, how I gained this place as teacher in the school. It was through
the interposition of Father Michael and certain powerful Protestant
friends of his who are unknown to me. It was not my own doing, and I do
not feel that I am to blame. But I will frankly tell you that it seems
to me cowardly to go forward under false colors. One thing I am
resolved upon,--I will never be ashamed of my dear mother. Where I go
she shall go, and she shall come here if she is inclined to do so. As
you have never seen her, I may say that she is regarded as dark for an
octoroon, and with her presence no explanation will be necessary. But
ought I to wait for that? She may not choose to come. How can I best be
an honest man? It seems silly, and it would be ridiculous, to give out
generally here as a matter for the public that I am the son of a negro
woman. Yet I think it must come to that in some way. What shall I do?"

This letter caused me to think of Anthony and his trouble much more
seriously than before. It was clear to me why he was popular. I had
never met any young man who was by nature more sympathetic and
attractive. The reserve and sadness which had recently come upon him
were not to his disadvantage socially. They rather tended to gain
attention and win the kindness of strangers. The question which his
position presented, and about which he desired my counsel, troubled me.
But, fortunately, after thinking of it almost constantly for two days, I
gave him advice which I still think correct under the circumstances. I
argued that he was not under any obligation to advertise himself to the
public as a colored man. The public did not expect or require this of
any one. But I urged that if he made any special friends among those who
entertained him socially and with whom he was intimate, he should
frankly make known to them the facts in regard to his family. I thought
this would be expected, and I was convinced that such a presentation of