The peculiar fascination which the South held over my imagination and my limited capital decided me in favor of Atlanta University; so about the last of September I bade farewell to the friends and scenes of my boyhood and boarded a train for the South.

I had enjoyed life in Paris, and, taking all things into consideration, enjoyed it wholesomely.

Young man, young man, your arm's too short to box with God.

A great wave of humiliation and shame swept over me. Shame that I belonged to a race that could be so dealt with; and shame for my country, that it, the great example of democracy to the world, should be the only civilized, if not the only state on earth, where a human being would be burned alive.

In the life of everyone there is a limited number of experiences which are not written upon the memory, but stamped there with a die; and in the long years after, they can be called up in detail, and every emotion that was stirred by them can be lived through anew; these are the tragedies of life.

And so for a couple of years my life was divided between my music and my school books.

O Black and unknown bards of long ago, How came your lips to touch the sacred fire?