In Berlin I especially enjoyed the orchestral concerts, and I attended a large number of them. I formed the acquaintance of a good many musicians, several of whom spoke of my playing in high terms.

I thought of Paris as a beauty spot on the face of the earth, and of London as a big freckle.

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

I do not see how a people that can find in its conscience any excuse whatever for slowly burning to death a human being, or for tolerating such an act, can be entrusted with the salvation of a race.

I believe it to be a fact that the colored people of this country know and understand the white people better than the white people know and understand them.

But I must own that I also felt stirred by an unselfish desire to voice all the joys and sorrows, the hopes and ambitions, of the American Negro, in classic musical form.

As I look back now I can see that I was a perfect little aristocrat.

As yet, the Negroes themselves do not fully appreciate these old slave songs.

Labor is the fabled magician's wand, the philosophers stone, and the cap of good fortune.

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

When we arrived in London, my sadness at leaving Paris was turned into despair. After my long stay in the French capital, huge, ponderous, massive London seemed to me as ugly a thing as man could contrive to make.

You are young, gifted, and Black. We must begin to tell our young, There's a world waiting for you, Yours is the quest that's just begun.

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

Amsterdam was a great surprise to me. I had always thought of Venice as the city of canals; it had never entered my mind that I should find similar conditions in a Dutch town.

Any musical person who has never heard a Negro congregation under the spell of religious fervor sing these old songs has missed one of the most thrilling emotions which the human heart may experience.