And who was this Dr. Plummer? It was Dr. Plummer late of Richmond, in Virginia. "Richmond," says Dr. Reed, "is still the great mart of slavery; and the interests of morality and religion suffer from this cause. Several persons of the greatest wealth, and therefore of the greatest consideration in the town, are known slave-dealers; and their influence, in addition to the actual traffic, is of course unfavourable. The sale of slaves is as common, and produces as little sensation, as that of cattle. It occurs in the main street, and before the door of the party who is commissioned to make the sale." And what was the conduct of this Doctor of Divinity in reference to this state of things? He sanctioned it! He pleaded for it! He lived upon it! He was once actually supported, either wholly or in part, by slave labour! The church of which he was the pastor was endowed with a number of slaves. These slaves were hired out, and the proceeds were given in the way of stipend to the Doctor! Nor is this all. A few years ago the slave-holders of the South were greatly alarmed by the vigorous efforts of the Abolitionists of the North. It was about the time that the Charleston Post-office was plundered by a mob of several thousand people, and all the anti-slavery publications there found were made a bonfire of in the street; and where "the clergy of all denominations attended in a body, lending their sanction to the proceedings, and adding by their presence to the impressive character of the scene." On that occasion the clergy of the city of Richmond were not less prompt than their brethren of Charleston in responding to the "public sentiment."' They resolved unanimously,—

"That we earnestly deprecate the unwarrantable and highly improper interference of the people of any other State with the domestic relations of master and slave.

"That the example of our Lord Jesus Christ and his Apostles, in not interfering with the question of slavery, but uniformly recognising the relations of master and servant, and giving full and affectionate instruction to both, is worthy the imitation of all ministers of the Gospel.

"That we will not patronise nor receive any pamphlet or newspaper of the Anti-slavery Societies, and that we will discountenance the circulation of all such papers in the community.

"That the suspicions which have prevailed to a considerable extent against ministers of the Gospel and professors of religion in the State of Virginia, as identified with Abolitionists, are wholly unmerited; believing as we do, from extensive acquaintance with our churches and brethren, that they are unanimous in opposing the pernicious schemes of Abolitionists."

After this, are men to be branded as "infidels," because they say the American churches are the "bulwarks of slavery?"

But what has all this to do with our fine-looking and dignified "Doctor?" I will tell you. When these resolutions were passed, he was from home; but on his return, he lost no time in communicating to the "Chairman of the Committee of Correspondence" his entire concurrence with what had been done,—and here are extracts from his letter:—

"I have carefully watched this matter from its earliest existence; and everything I have seen or heard of its character, both from its patrons and its enemies, has confirmed me beyond repentance in the belief, that, let the character of the Abolitionists be what it may in the sight of the Judge of all the earth, this is the most meddlesome, impudent, reckless, fierce, and wicked excitement I ever saw.

"If Abolitionists will set the country in a blaze, it is but right that they should receive the first warming at the fire.

"Let it be proclaimed throughout the nation, that every movement made by the fanatics (so far as it has any effect in the South) does but rivet every fetter of the bondman, and diminish the probability of anything being successfully undertaken for making him either fit for freedom or likely to obtain it. We have the authority of Montesquieu, Burke, and Coleridge, three eminent masters of the science of human nature, that, of all men, slave-holders are the most jealous of their liberties. One of Pennsylvania's most gifted sons has lately pronounced the South the cradle of liberty.

"Lastly. Abolitionists are like infidels, wholly unaddicted to martyrdom for opinion's sake. Let them understand that they will be caught [lynched] if they come among us, and they will take good heed to keep out of our way. There is not one man among them who has any more idea of shedding his blood in the cause, than he has of making war on the Grand Turk."

So much for my splendid D.D., on whose lips I hung with such intense interest. I did not know all this at the time, or I should have felt very differently. As he had but recently left Richmond when I saw him, it is not at all unlikely that those fine clothes he had on were the fruit of the slave's unrequited toil. He has always, I believe, stood high among his brethren, and one or two excellent tracts of his are published by the American Tract Society.

All denominations are here alike guilty in reference to their coloured brethren. In this very city the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church for 1840 passed the following resolution:—

"That it is inexpedient and unjustifiable for any preacher to permit coloured persons to give testimony against white persons in any State where they are denied that privilege by law."

Against this iniquitous resolution the official members of two of the coloured Methodist Episcopal Churches in Baltimore immediately remonstrated and petitioned. The following powerful and pathetic passages are from their address:—

"The adoption of such a resolution by our highest ecclesiastical judicatory,—a judicatory composed of the most experienced and the wisest brethren in the Church, the choice selection of twenty-eight Annual Conferences,—has inflicted, we fear, an irreparable injury upon eighty thousand souls for whom Christ died,—souls who, by this act of your body, have been stripped of the dignity of Christians, degraded in the scale of humanity, and treated as criminals, for no other reason than the colour of their skin! Your resolution has, in our humble opinion, virtually declared that a mere physical peculiarity, the handiwork of our all-wise and benevolent Creator, is prima facie evidence of incompetency to tell the truth, or is an unerring indication of unworthiness to bear testimony against a fellow-being whose skin is denominated white. * * *

"Brethren, out of the abundance of the heart we have spoken. Our grievance is before you! If you have any regard for the salvation of the eighty thousand immortal souls committed to your care,—if you would not thrust beyond the pale of the Church twenty-five thousand souls in this city, who have felt determined never to leave the Church that has nourished and brought them up,—if you regard us as children of one Common Father, and can upon reflection sympathize with us as members of the body of Christ,—if you would not incur the fearful, the tremendous responsibility of offending not only one, but many thousands of his 'little ones,'—we conjure you to wipe from your journal the odious resolution which is ruining our people."

This address was presented to one of the Secretaries, a delegate of the Baltimore Conference, and subsequently given by him to the Bishops. How many of the members of Conference saw it, is unknown. One thing is certain, it was never read to the Conference.



LETTER XXV.

A Sabbath at Baltimore (continued)—A Coloured Congregation—The Thought of seeing Washington abandoned—Departure from Baltimore —Coloured Ladies in the Luggage-Van—American Railways—Chesapeak Bay—Susquehannah—State of Delaware, and Abolition of Slavery —Philadelphia—Albert Barnes—Stephen Girard's Extraordinary Will.

In the afternoon of my first Sabbath at Baltimore I found, after much inquiry, a congregation of coloured people, who were some sort of Methodists. My wife and I were the only white people in the place. We were treated with great politeness, and put, not in a pew apart by ourselves, but in one of the best places they could find, in the very midst of the congregation. A serious-looking coloured man opened the service, with great propriety of manner and expression. He was the regular pastor. A black man, a stranger as I understood, preached. His text (he said) was, "Behold, I come quickly;" and they would find it in the Book of Revelation. But chapter and verse were not given, nor had he the Bible open in Revelation at all. I suspected that he could not read; and that suspicion was confirmed by the amount of nonsense which he soon uttered. At first his words were "few and far between," uttered in a tone of voice scarcely audible. Soon, however, he worked both himself and his audience into a tremendous phrenzy. The burden of his song was—how John had lived to a very great age, in spite of all attempts to put him to death; how his enemies had at last decided to try the plan of throwing him into a "kittle of biling ile;" how God had said to him, "Never mind, John,—if they throw thee into that kittle, I'll go there with thee,—they shall bile me too;" how John was therefore taken up alive; and how his persecutors, baffled in all their efforts to despatch him, ultimately determined to throw their victim upon a desolate island, and leave him there to live or perish as he might. During the delivery of all this nonsense, the laughing, the shouting, the groaning, and the jumping were positively terrific. It was Methodism gone mad. How disgraceful, that American Christians, so called, with all their schools and colleges, and with all their efforts to send the Gospel to Africa, should leave these people at their very doors thus to feed upon "husks" and "ashes!" Between 500 and 600 people were listening to this ignorant man, giving as the pure and positive word of God what was of very doubtful authority, intermingled with the crudities of his own brain. I wished to stay through the service, and perhaps at the close express my fraternal feelings; but I was so shocked and grieved at this ranting exhibition that I felt it unwarrantable to remain.

Leaving these unfortunate people, we peeped into two cathedral churches,—that of the Church of England, or (as it is here called) the Protestant Episcopal Church, and that of the Church of Rome. Both buildings are very splendid. We had been in the former some time before we felt quite sure that we were not in a Popish place of worship, so papistical were its aspect and arrangements. It was evident that Puseyism, or Popery in some form, had there its throne and its sceptre. The avowedly Popish cathedral was crowded with worshippers; and, to the shame of Protestantism be it spoken, black and coloured people were there seen intermingled with the whites in the performance of their religious ceremonies! The State of Maryland, of which Baltimore is the capital, having been first settled by a colony of Roman Catholics, might be expected to be a stronghold of Popery. Yet, it is not so. The adherents of that system are but a small minority of the population.

Baltimore is, however, a stronghold of slavery. Here Garrison's indignation against the system was first kindled—here Frederick Douglas tasted some of its bitter draughts—and here Torrey died its victim. The following are specimens of the manner in which the trade in human flesh is carried on in this city:—

"NEGROES WANTED.—I have removed from my former residence. West Pratt-street, to my new establishment on Camden-street, immediately in the rear of the Railroad Depot, where I am permanently located. Persons bringing Negroes by the cars will find it very convenient, as it is only a few yards from where the passengers get out. Those having Negroes for sale will find it to their advantage to call and see me, as I am at all times paying the highest prices in cash.

"J. S. DONOVAN, Balt. Md."

"o28—6m*."

"CASH FOR FIVE HUNDRED NEGROES.—At the old establishment of Slatter's, No. 244, Pratt-street, Baltimore, between Sharp and Howard Streets, where the highest prices are paid, which is well known. We have large accommodations for Negroes, and always buying. Being regular shippers to New Orleans, persons should bring their property where no commissions are paid, as the owners lose it. All communications attended to promptly by addressing

"H. F. SLATTER."

"j5—6m*."

Before and since my arrival in the United States, I had thought much of seeing Washington, and, if possible, Congress in session. But such was the severity of the weather that we could not cross the Alleghanies before that assembly had risen and dispersed. At Baltimore I was within two hours' journey of the capital. Should I go and see it? No; for what can there be found to gratify the friend of freedom and of man? The Missouri compromise, the annexation of Texas, and the Mexican War, are all associated with Washington. The capital itself is but a great slave-mart, with its baracoons and manacles, its handcuffs and auction-stands! Ay, and all this in full view of the national edifice, wherein is deposited that instrument which bears on its head and front the noble sentiment—"That all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Under the influence of these recollections, I abandoned the idea of visiting Washington.

At 9 o'clock on Monday morning we set off by railway for Philadelphia. While I was taking a last glance at my trunks in the luggage-van, at the Baltimore station, about half-a-dozen very clean and respectable coloured ladies came up, and made for the said van as a matter of course. It was the only accommodation that would be allowed them, though they paid the same fare as other people! They were ladies to whom any gentleman in England would have been proud to resign a seat. But in the land of equality, they were consigned to the cold, dark, and dirty regions of the luggage-van. I noticed one important difference between the railway economy of England and that of America. In the former, as you know, the railway is haughty, exclusive, and aristocratic. It scorns all fellowship with common roads, and dashes on, either under or over the houses, with arbitrary indifference. In America, it generally condescends to pass along the public streets to the very centre of the city, the engine being taken off or put to in the suburbs, and its place intra muros, if I may so say, supplied by horses. In leaving Baltimore, the engine was attached before we got quite out of the city; and we were going for some time along the common road, meeting in one place a horse and cart, in another a man on horseback, in another a pair of oxen fastened to each other, and so on. Dangerous enough, apparently! yet railway accidents are much less frequent in America than in England. It is, besides, an immense saving of capital.

In our progress, we had to cross several arms of the Chesapeak Bay. These arms were from one to two miles wide, and the railway is carried over them upon posts driven into the ground. It seemed like crossing the sea in a railway carriage. At Havre de Grace we had to cross the Susquehannah River. This word Susquehannah is Indian, and means literally, I am told, "the rolling thunder." In crossing it, however, we heard no thunder, except that of the luggage-van over our heads, on the top of the steamer. Here we changed carriages. We soon got sight of the Delaware, which kept us company nearly all the way to Philadelphia. Delaware, the smallest of all the States except Rhode Island, we entirely crossed. A few days before, Delaware had well nigh done herself great honour. Her House of Representatives carried, by a majority, a vote for the abolition of slavery within her boundaries; but the measure was lost in her Senate by a majority of one or two. The State legislature will not meet again for two years. All parties are confident that the measure will then be triumphantly carried through. In America, however, the abolition of slavery in any State does not always mean freedom to the slaves. Too often it is a mere transportation of them to the Southern States. Had Delaware passed a law that all slaves should he free at the expiration of five years, or that all children born after a certain period should he free, the owners of slaves would have had an obvious interest in disposing of their human property to the Southern traders before that period arrived. Mothers, too, would have been hastened Southward to give birth to their offspring; so that the "peculiar institution" might lose none of its prey. Measures for the abolition of slavery in any part of America do not arise from sympathy with the negro, and from a wish to improve his condition and promote his happiness, but from aversion to his presence, or perhaps from a conviction that the system of slavery is expensive and impolitic. Those who feel kindly towards their coloured brother, and act towards him under the impulse of pure and lofty philanthropy, are, I am sorry to say, very few indeed.

These views may appear severe and uncharitable towards the American people, but they are confirmed by M. de Tocqueville. "When a Northern State declared that the son of the slave should be born free," observes that impartial writer, "the slave lost a large portion of his market value, since his posterity was no longer included in the bargain, and the owner had then a strong interest in transporting him to the South. Thus the same law prevents the slaves of the South from coming to the Northern States, and drives those of the North to the South. The want of free hands is felt in a State in proportion as the number of slaves decreases. But, in proportion as labour is performed by free hands, slave labour becomes less productive; and the slave is then a useless or an onerous possession, whom it is important to export to those Southern States where the same competition is not to be feared. Thus the abolition of slavery does not set the slave free: it merely transfers him from one master to another, and from the North to the South." M. de Tocqueville adds, in a note, "The States in which slavery is abolished usually do what they can to render their territory disagreeable to the negroes as a place of residence; and as a kind of emulation exists between the different States in this respect, the unhappy blacks can only choose the least of the evils which beset them." This is perfectly true.

Crossing the Schuilkyl, we arrived about 3 o'clock P. M. in Philadelphia, "the city of brotherly love," having performed the journey of 97 miles in six hours, a rate of only 16 miles an hour!

In Philadelphia were many men and things that I wished to see. First and foremost, in my professional curiosity, was Albert Barnes; but being anxious to push on to New York that night, I had but an hour and a half to stay. Of a sight of the famous author of the "Notes," I was therefore compelled to deny myself. My regret was diminished, when I learned from an English minister of high standing, who, under the influence of the best feelings, and with an excellent introduction, had called upon the Commentator, that he received him with a degree of indifference bordering on rudeness.

In Philadelphia there is no Congregational Church. A few years ago John Todd, the well-known author of "The Student's Guide," attempted to raise one. He was but little countenanced, however, by Albert Barnes and the Presbyterians, and failed.

In passing through this city, I had a distant glimpse of a most remarkable institution. M. Girard, an old bachelor, a native of France, who had accumulated immense wealth, died a few years ago, leaving by will the enormous sum of two millions of dollars, or upwards of four hundred thousand pounds sterling, to erect and endow a college for the accommodation and education of three hundred orphan boys. The ground on which it was to be built, consisting of no less than 45 acres, he ordered to be enclosed with a high solid wall, capped with marble, and lined upon the top with long iron spikes. He also inserted in his will the following extraordinary clause: "I enjoin and require that no ecclesiastic, missionary, or minister of any sect whatever, shall ever hold or exercise any station or duty whatever in said college; nor shall any such person ever be admitted for any purpose, or as a visitor, within the premises appropriated to the purpose of said college." An attempt was made before the Supreme Court of the United States to set aside this will, and Daniel Webster, the great New England barrister, delivered a powerful "plea" against it; but the attempt was overruled. For some years the building has been slowly proceeding, and is not yet ready for occupation. Had I had time, I could not, being a minister, have entered the premises. To me, and to all like me, "Procul, procul, este, profani" is chiselled on every stone!—a singular monument of the priest-hating propensities of the old French Revolutionists.



LETTER XXVI.

Departure from Philadelphia—A Communicative Yankee—Trenton—The Mansion of Joseph Bonaparte—Scenes of Brainerd's Labours One Hundred Years ago—First Impressions of New York—150, Nassau-street—Private Lodgings—Literary Society—American Lodging-houses—A Lecture on Astronomy—The "Negro Pew" in Dr. Patton's Church.

At half-past 4 in the afternoon of March 15 we left Philadelphia by railway for New York, which we reached at 10 P.M., an average again of about 16 miles an hour. In this journey I met with a very communicative Yankee, who, though not a religious man, was proud to trace his genealogy to the "Pilgrim Fathers," and, through them, to the Normans. Intercourse, he said, had been maintained for the last two centuries between the English and American branches of the family. He also took care to inform me that the head of the English branch was a baronet. This was but one of many instances in which I found among our Transatlantic friends a deep idolatry of rank and titles. In talking of their own political institutions, he declared their last two Presidents to have been—the one a fool, and the other a knave,—Polk the fool, and Tyler the knave. He entertained an insane and cruel prejudice against those whose skin was not exactly of the same colour with his own, and "thanked God" that he had no African blood in his veins.

We passed through Trenton, celebrated as the scene of a bloody conflict between the British and the American forces. The Americans, I am sorry to say, dwell too fondly on the remembrance of those deadly struggles. They cherish the spirit of war. The influence of Elihu Burritt and his "bond of brotherhood" is indeed greatly needed on both sides of the Atlantic.

We also passed what once was the residence of ex-royalty—the princely mansion which Joseph Bonaparte erected for himself after he lost the throne of Spain. It is surrounded with about 900 acres of land, his own private property; and was still in the family, though about to be sold. What a home has America proved both to fallen greatness and to struggling poverty! Princes and peasants alike find shelter here.

This journey conducted us through New Brunswick, Elizabeth Town, Newark,—places associated with the name of David Brainerd, and often (a hundred years ago) the scenes of his toils and travels. But where are the descendants of those Indians on whose behalf he felt such intense solicitude? Alas! not a vestige of them is to be seen.

Having thus crossed New Jersey State, we came to New Jersey city, where we crossed a ferry to New York. After rather more than the usual amount of anxiety about baggage, &c., we reached the Planter's Hotel a little after 10 at night.

Next morning I sallied forth to gaze, for the first time, at the wonders of New York. The state of the streets impressed me unfavourably. The pigs were in the enjoyment of the same unstinted liberty as at Cincinnati. Merchants and storekeepers spread their goods over the entire breadth of the causeway, and some even to the very middle of the street. Slops of all sorts, and from all parts of the houses, were emptied into the street before the front doors! The ashes were disposed of in a very peculiar manner. Each house had, on the edge of the parapet opposite, an old flour-barrel, or something of the sort, into which were thrown ashes, sweepings, fish-bones, dead rats, and all kinds of refuse. A dead rat very frequently garnished the top of the barrel. This was the order of things, not in small by-streets only, but also in the very best streets, and before the very best houses. The pavement too, even in Broadway, was in a very wretched state.

I made for No. 150, Nassau-street, where the Tract Society, the Home Missionary Society, and the Foreign Missionary Society have their rooms. To some parties in that house I had introductions. The brethren connected with those societies treated me with great kindness and cordiality, and made me feel as though I had been in our own missionary rooms in Blomfield-street. By their aid I obtained private lodgings, in a good situation and in good society.

The landlady was a Quaker, with half-a-dozen grown-up daughters. Our fellow-lodgers consisted of the Rev. A.E. Lawrence, Assistant-Secretary of the American Home Missionary Society (who had a few months before become the landlady's son-in-law); the Rev. Mr. Martyn, and his wife, a woman of fine talents, and editor of "The Ladies' Wreath;" the Rev. Mr. Brace, an editor in the employ of the Tract Society; Mr. Daniel Breed, M.D., a Quaker, and principal of a private academy for young gentlemen (also the landlady's son-in-law); Mr. Oliver Johnson, a sub-editor of the Daily Tribune, and a well-known Abolitionist; and Mr. Lockwood, a retired grocer,—who, having gained a small independence, was thus enjoying it with his youthful wife and child in lodgings.

Into society better adapted to my taste and purposes I could not have gone. This mode of life is very extensively adopted in America, —married couples, with families, living in this manner for years, without the least loss of respectability. They seldom have sitting-rooms distinct from their bed-rooms, which are made to answer both purposes; and as to meals, all meet to eat the same things, at the same table, and at the same time. The custom is economical; but it has an injurious effect upon character, especially in the case of the women. The young wife, not being called upon to exercise herself in domestic economy, is apt to become idle, slovenly, and—in a certain sense—worthless. The softening associations and influences, and even the endearments, of "home," are lost. There is no domesticity.

In the evening of the 17th I went to the Broadway Tabernacle, to hear a lecture on Astronomy from Professor Mitchell of Cincinnati, no ordinary man. Although the admission fee was half-a-dollar, upwards of a thousand persons were present. Without either diagrams or notes, the accomplished lecturer kept his audience in breathless attention for upwards of an hour. He seemed to be a devout, unassuming man, and threw a flood of light on every subject he touched. His theme was the recent discovery of the Leverrier planet; and perhaps you will not be displeased if I give you a summary of his lucid observations. In observing how the fluctuations of the planet Herschel had ultimately led to this discovery, he said:

"For a long time no mind dared to touch the problem. At length a young astronomer rises, unknown to fame, but with a mind capable of grasping all the difficulties involved in any of these questions. I refer of course to LEVERRIER. He began by taking up the movements of Mercury. He was dissatisfied with the old computations and the old tables; and he ventured to begin anew, and to compute an entirely new set of tables. With these new tables, he predicted the precise instant when the planet Mercury, on the 18th of May, 1845, would touch the sun, and sweep across it. The time rolls round when the planet is to be seen, and his prediction verified or confuted. The day arrives, but, alas! for the computer, the clouds let down their dark curtains, and veil the sun from his sight. Our own Observatory had just been finished; and if the audience will permit, I will state briefly my own observations upon the planet. I had ten long years been toiling. I had commenced what appeared to be a hopeless enterprise. But finally I saw the building finished. I saw this mighty telescope erected,—I had adjusted it with my own hands,—I had computed the precise time when the planet would come in contact with the sun's disk, and the precise point where the contact would take place; but when it is remembered that only about the thousandth part of the sun's disk enters upon the field of the telescope, the importance of directing the instrument to the right point will be realized. Five minutes before the computed time of the contact, I took my place at the instrument. The beautiful machinery that carries the telescope with the sun was set in motion, and the instrument directed to that part of the sun's disk at which it was anticipated the contact would take place. And there I sat, with feelings which no one in this audience can realize. It was my first effort. All had been done by myself. After remaining there for what seemed to be long hours, I inquired of my assistant how much longer I would have to wait. I was answered four minutes. I kept my place for what seemed an age, and again inquired as before. He told me that but one minute had rolled by. It seemed as if time had folded his wings, so slowly did the moments crawl on. I watched on till I was told that but one minute remained; and, within sixteen seconds of the time, I had the almost bewildering gratification of seeing the planet break the contact, and slowly move on till it buried itself round and deep and sharp in the sun.

"I refer to this fact for two reasons,—first, to verify Leverrier; and, second, to impress upon your minds the desirableness of locating our observatories in different parts of the earth. No European astronomer could have made this observation, because in their longitudes the sun would have set previous to the contact of the planet with its disk. I had the gratification of furnishing these observations to Leverrier himself, who reported upon them to the Academy of Sciences. The triumph of Leverrier was complete. It was after this that Arago, seeing the characteristics of his mind, said to him, 'Take up the movements of the planet Herschel,—watch them, analyze them, and tell us what it is that causes them.' Leverrier throws aside all other employments, and gives his mind to the investigation of this subject. He begins entirely back. He takes up the movements of the planets Jupiter and Saturn, and investigates them anew: he leaves nothing untouched. Finally, after having in the most absolute manner computed all the influence they exercise upon the planet Herschel, he says, 'I now know positively all existing causes that disturb the planet; but there is an outstanding power that disturbs it not yet accounted for, and now let me rise to a knowledge of that outstanding cause.' He did what no other man ever had attempted. He cleared up all difficulties;—he made all daylight before his gaze. And now, how shall I give to you an account of the train of reasoning by which he reached out into unknown space, and evoked from its bosom a mighty world? If you will give me the time, I will attempt to give you an idea of his mighty workings in the field of science.

"In the first place, let it be remembered that the planets circulate through the heavens in nearly the same plane. If I were to locate the sun in the centre of the floor, in locating the planets around it, I should place them upon the floor in the same plane. The first thing that occurred to Leverrier, in looking for the planet, was this,—he need not look out of the plane of the ecliptic. Here, then, was one quarter in which the unknown body was to be found. The next thing was this,—where is it located, and what is its distance from the sun? The law of Bode gave to him the approximate distance. He found the distance of Saturn was about double that of Jupiter, and the distance of Herschel twice that of Saturn; and the probability was that the new planet would be twice the distance of Herschel,—and as Herschel's distance is 1,800,000 miles, the new planet's would be 3,600,000. Having approximated its distance, what is its periodic time?—for if he can once get its periodic time, he can trace it out without difficulty. According to the third of Kepler's laws, as the square of the period of Herschel is to the square of the period of the unknown planet, so is the cube of the distance of Herschel to the cube of the distance of the unknown planet. There is only one term unknown. The periodic time of Herschel we will call 1, and its distance 1, and by resolving the equation, we find the periodic time of the new planet to be a fraction less than three times that of Herschel, or about 220 years. Now, if it be required to perform 360 degrees in 220 years, it will perform about a degree and a half in one year. Only one thing more remains to be accomplished. If it is possible to get the position of the unknown body at any time, we can trace it up to where it should be in 1847.

"First, then, let us suppose the sun, Herschel, and the new planet in certain fixed positions, which we will represent as follows,—



"It will be observed that a line drawn out from the sun to the right will pass through Herschel, and if continued will intersect the new planet. It is very apparent that, when these three orbs occupy the position assigned them above, the influence of the unknown planet upon Herschel will be exercised in the highest degree, and consequently that Herschel will be drawn farther from the sun at that juncture than at any other; and if we know where Herschel is, when this effect is produced, by prolonging the line through Herschel outward, it must pass through the new planet. The delicate observations upon Herschel gave this result, and showed when it was that it was swayed farthest from the sun. By taking the place occupied by the planet at that time, and increasing it onward one degree and a half per annum, we can point out the place it must occupy at any given period. In September last we find Leverrier communicating these results to his friends in Berlin. They are provided with charts, on which every observed star is mapped down; and if any new object presents itself in the heavens, it is immediately subjected to a rigid scrutiny. On the very night on which Leverrier's letter had been received, we find the telescope directed to the designated point in the heavens. A stranger appears, but has only the aspect of a fixed star. Long did the eye watch that night, but no motion was found. When twenty-four hours rolled round, and it was once more possible to fix the instrument upon this strange body, it had moved in the precise degree and direction computed. The new planet was found. The news spread with the utmost rapidity throughout the world,—all Europe was electrified, and soon the intelligence crossed the waters. Our telescope was directed to this object. All had hitherto failed,—no eye had ever seen it round and planet-like from its disk. The evening finally came round for the examination. Time moved on its leaden wings; but twilight faded away at length, and I took my seat, with my assistant, at the instrument. I directed the telescope to that point of the heavens. I found four stars in the field of view. The first was brought to the field of view of the instrument, and pronounced to be a fixed star; and so with the second. The third was brought forward; and before it had reached the centre of the field, I heard the exclamation, 'There it is!' and there it was, as bright and beautiful as Jupiter himself. Here was a result not attained by any other instrument in the world. When we know that a body is a planet, then, and not till then, do we find the disk. The great rival of our instrument had seen it, but did not recognise it.

"Before five minutes had elapsed, the micrometical wires pronounced its diameter to be 40,000 miles. Here were results such as no previous one had attained, I mention it, because I think it is right that our own country, which has but just commenced its career in this science, should know what is her due; and I trust the day is not far distant when we shall become as distinguished for our proficiency, for our learning, for our researches, and for our efforts in behalf of Astronomy, as we have hitherto been for our profound neglect of everything belonging to this sublime science."

So much had been recently said in England about the "Negro Pew" in Dr. Patton's Church that I naturally felt curious to see it for myself, resolving (if possible) to sit in it. On Sabbath morning the 21st of March I set off with my wife on this errand, taking for our guide as to the precise position of the "locality" Mr. Page's "Letter of Apology,"—in which it was stated that in that church they treated the coloured people well; that they were elevated above the rest of the congregation, and nearer heaven; and, finally, that they occupied a position of honour, being on the right hand of the minister, as Jesus Christ was on the right hand of God! We found two coloured people—an old man and an old woman—seated in the front pew close to the minister's right hand; and at once concluded that the section of pews at the end wall must be the favoured spot, the terrestrio-celestial elevation commonly called the "Negro Pew." We advanced, and installed our white faces in the pew immediately behind the sable couple. The old lady seemed really alarmed, and, with amusing earnestness, motioned us to take a seat elsewhere. Remonstrance was all in vain,—we were determined to sit among the happy favourites. At this time but few persons were present. By-and-by the children of the Sunday-school were marched into the neighbouring pews on the other side of the aisle, and one of the lady teachers made eager signs for us to come away from our strange position. I nodded an intimation that we were all right, and perfectly comfortable. After the lapse of a few moments, another polite and compassionate lady actually rose and came to the pew-door to remonstrate with us.

In a serious yet coaxing tone, she said, "Won't you take a seat here on this side of the aisle?"

"No, thank you, madam," I replied; "we are quite comfortable."

"But," she continued, in a voice of deep commiseration, "this is the place allotted to the coloured people."

"Thank you," I rejoined; "we have made no mistake."

"Well, just as you please, sir!" (as though she had said De gustibus non disputandum) and with that she retreated.

The eyes of all in the synagogue were upon us. The little people whispered, and the big people stared, and all the people marvelled.

The morning was dark and wet, and yet (as usual) the Venetian blinds were all down. The gallery was occupied by three classes of persons: the black people—about a dozen in number—on the "right hand," the singing people in front, and the Sunday-school children everywhere else. The regular congregation, amounting perhaps to 300, were all downstairs.

Dr. Patton ascended the pulpit-stairs with his cloak on, placed a manuscript "fresh from the mint" under the cushion, sat down, took out his pocket-handkerchief, applied it vigorously, and then gazed leisurely around.

The pulpit service commenced with a short prayer; then followed singing by the choir, all else sitting silent. The tenth chapter of Romans was read; then came the long prayer, in which the Doctor prayed for the abolition of slavery, and for the spread of the Gospel. The text, which succeeded, was Rom. x. 3, 4. Having noticed the context, the preacher proposed—

I. To explain the text. (Here he examined very critically the meaning of the Greek word [Greek: dikai-osunous], quoting Moses Stuart and others.)

II. To designate those who go about to establish their own righteousness.

III. To remonstrate against such conduct, as being unnecessary, criminal, and dangerous.

The discourse was sound and good, but every word read. The disorderly conduct of the children in the gallery proved a great annoyance; and for all the solicitude of the ladies to get us away from the vicinity of coloured skins, not one of them had the politeness to offer us either Bible or hymn-book.

This visit of ours to the "Negro Pew" was immediately laid hold of by the Abolitionists, and made to go the whole round of their papers as a "testimony against caste." This provoked into action the prolix pen of the celebrated Mr. Page, who wasted on the subject an immense quantity of ink and paper. "Page" after page did he pen; continued to do so, to my certain knowledge, for about three months after; and, for aught I know to the contrary, he may be paging away to this very day. This commotion answered my purpose exceedingly well,—my object being to bear testimony against the impiousness of such a distinction and separation in the house of God. It is, however, but justice to Dr. Patton to observe that the case is not singular, the peculiar celebrity of his "Negro Pew" arising entirely from the imbecile and somewhat profane apology volunteered by Mr. Page. In point of fact, Dr. Patton and his people, as I ascertained in conversation with him on the subject, are rather in advance of their neighbours in kind feeling towards the coloured people.



LETTER XXVII.

A Presbyterian Church in New York, and its Pastor—The Abbotts and their Institution—Union Theological Seminary—Dr. Skinner's Church—New York University—A threatening "Necessity"—Prejudice against Colour—A Fact connected with Mr. ———'s Church—Another Fact in Pennsylvania—State of Public Opinion in New York—An Interview with Dr. Spring—A Missionary Meeting in Dr. Adams's Church.

In the evening I preached by engagement for the Rev. ———, in the —— Presbyterian Church. It was pouring with rain, and not more than 150 persons were present. The pastor, who had visited me in a very fraternal manner, kindly proposed to devote part of the next day to showing me some of the "lions" of the city. The first place we visited was Mount Vernon, the institution of the Abbotts. It is a seminary for young ladies, with 200 pupils. The first of the brothers to whom we were introduced was John Abbott, the author of "The Mother at Home." He is apparently 40 years of age. He introduced us to the room of the senior class, which consisted of 30 or 40 young ladies, from 14 to 25 years of age. They were engaged in a French exercise with Jacob Abbott, the author of "The Young Christian," "The Corner Stone," "The Way for a Child," &c., &c. The exercise over, we were introduced to Mr. Jacob Abbott, and were requested to accompany him to a private sitting-room. I found him an exceedingly pleasant and unassuming man. He is 43 years of age, but looks younger. He wrote both "The Young Christian" and "The Corner Stone" when he was only 25. John is two years younger than Jacob; Charles, to whom also I was introduced, is younger still; and Gorham, whom I did not then see, is the youngest of the four. All are ministers, though not pastors,—all highly intellectual men, and connected more or less with this seminary, which is one of the best conducted I have ever seen. The pupils are not boarders, but they pay from 10l. to 15l. a year for their tuition alone. I subsequently made another visit to this institution in company with my wife, upon whom Mr. Jacob Abbott had very politely called.

Mr. ——— intended to introduce me to Dr. Spring, but he was not at home. He then took me to the Union Theological Seminary. In that institution about 120 young men are preparing for the Christian ministry. The library contains twenty thousand volumes on theology alone—musty and prosy tomes! What a punishment it would be to be compelled to wade through the whole! We saw neither professors nor students. My principal recollection of the place is that of feeling intensely hungry, and smelling at the same time the roast beef on which, in some of the lower regions of the buildings, the young divines were regaling themselves. In vain I wished to join them in that exercise.

When we came out, my guide proposed to take me to see Dr. Robinson. Much as I wanted to see the author of the "Greek Lexicon," and the Traveller in Palestine, there were other claims that then more urgently pressed themselves. I had breakfasted at 7, and it was now near 1. I gave my friend a hint to that effect. But he overruled it by saying, "It is close by, and won't take us many minutes." We went, but the Doctor was not in. We were now opposite Dr. Skinner's Church, and my friend insisted on my going to see it. It will hold about 1,000 people. All the pews are cushioned and lined, and the place has a decided air of aristocracy about it. The school-room, the lecture-room, the vestry, &c., were very complete and convenient. "How strange," I observed to my friend, "that you should so far exceed us in the comfort of your places of worship, and at the same time be so far behind us in domestic comforts." "That" said he, "was the principle of the Puritans,—the house of God first, their own after." I ventured to ask him what salaries ministers in New York generally received. He told me from 1,000 to 4,000 dollars, or from 200l. to 800l. "My own," he added, "is 2,000 dollars." We were now not far from the New York University. "You must go and see that," said he. I went, but saw nothing particular except the library, empty lecture-rooms, and chapel,—no professors. My friendly guide pointed to a portrait of Lord Lyndhurst, told me with evident pride that he was a Yankee, and marvelled at my ignorance of the fact.

From time to time I had given him hints that I was afraid of being too late for dinner at my lodgings; and when the sight-seeing was at last ended, he very coolly and complacently said, "Now, if you really think you are too late for dinner at your place, I shall be under the necessity of asking you to go and take a plate with me." Those were the ipsissima verba. I could scarcely keep my gravity; but I replied, "Thank you, sir; I want to go to the centre of the city, and I can easily get a dinner at any eating-house." He both nodded and expressed an entire concurrence, and seemed to think it an admirable arrangement. In parting, he pressed me to preach for him on the following Thursday, but I declined. The next day I was told, on unquestionable authority, that two or three years ago one of the elders of this gentleman's church, meeting a man from South America whom he took to be a mixture of Spaniard and Indian, requested his company to church. The stranger assented, and sat with him in his pew. He liked the service, became interested, and went again and again. At last it was whispered that he was a "Nigger,"—i.e. had a slight mixture of African blood in him. The next week a meeting of the Session was held, at which it was unanimously resolved that the intruder's entrance into the body of the church must be prohibited. Two men were stationed at the door for that purpose. The stranger came. He was stopped, and told that he could not be allowed to enter the body of the church, there being a place up in the gallery for coloured people. The man remonstrated, and said he had been invited to take a seat in Mr. So-and-so's pew. "Yes," they replied, "we are aware of that; but public feeling is against it, and it cannot be allowed." The stranger turned round, burst into tears, and walked home.

Mr. Johnson, of the Tribune, told me that two or three years ago he and thirty or forty more were returning from an Anti-slavery Convention held at Harrisburgh in Pennsylvania. They had left by railway for Philadelphia at 3 o'clock in the morning. At a town called Lancaster they stopped to breakfast. In the company were two coloured gentlemen, one of whom was a minister. They all sat down together. Soon the waiters began to whisper, "A nigger at table!" "There is two!" The landlord quickly appeared, seized one of the coloured gentlemen by the shoulder, and asked him how he dared to sit down at table in his house. The company remonstrated, and assured him that those whose presence appeared to be so offensive were very respectable men, friends of theirs, whom they had invited to sit down. It was all in vain. The landlord would hear nothing; "the niggers must go." "Very well," said the rest of the company; "then we shall all go." Away they went, and left the refined landlord to console himself for the loss of a large party to breakfast. They had to travel all the way to Philadelphia before they could break their fast.

The same gentleman told me that he believed if a white man of any standing in society in New York were now to marry a coloured lady, however intelligent and accomplished, his life would be in danger,—he would be lynched for having committed such an outrage upon "public opinion." And yet the boast is ever ringing in our ears, "This is a free country—every one does as he pleases here!"

On the 24th of March I called upon Dr. Spring. He is an Old School Presbyterian, and a supporter of the Colonization Society. In the course of conversation reference was made to State Churches.

Myself.—"You see, Doctor, State Churches are the curse of the British Empire, just as slavery is the curse of your country."

The Doctor.—"Ah! so it is; and yet we can do nothing to remove them. Here is our slavery,—we can't touch it; and you cannot touch your Established Church. Do you think you will ever get rid of it?"

Myself.—"Oh! Yes; I hope so."

The Doctor.—"But it will be a very long time before it comes to pass."

Myself.—"Perhaps not so very long. We are rapidly hastening towards some great change. The old principle of an Establishment is now being abandoned by all parties; and we shall soon come either to the pay-all or to the pay-none principle. I am much afraid it will be the former."

The Doctor.—"But were it to come to that, and the State would pay you as well as all the rest, you would have no further ground of complaint."

Myself.—"Oh! but we should: we dread that above all other evils. It will be a dark day for evangelical religion in England, if ever that principle be adopted."

The Doctor.—"Why? What harm can it do you to receive the money of the State, provided it does not infringe upon your liberties?"

Myself.—"In the first place, it would be a departure from the law of Jesus Christ, and every departure from his law is sure to be productive of evil."

The Doctor.—"Very true. That's a sound principle—that every departure from his law will be productive of evil; but then, it remains to be proved that it is a departure from his law. However, I am glad to see you stick so firmly to your principles."

He then went on to ask if I would preach for him next Sabbath. Now, whether he was only trying me on those points, or whether he had not studied the subject, or whether he was anxious to keep me off from the subject of slavery, I cannot tell. But I came away with my knowledge of Dr. Spring less than it was when I entered. He seemed like a cold, stiff, formal State parson.

In the evening I attended a missionary meeting in Dr. Adams's Church. It was the anniversary of the New York and Brooklyn Auxiliary to the Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, and embraced about thirty churches. I expected great things. When I entered they were singing. The place was little more than half-full,—say 500 persons. Three gentlemen were sitting in the pulpit. These were Dr. Adams, Dr. Cox, and Mr. Storrers. I looked around for the negro pew. There it was on the left of the organ, and five sable friends in it. The first speaker was Dr. Adams, who delivered a well-prepared oration of half an hour long. The Rev. Mr. Storrers, a young man, the pastor of the "Church of the Pilgrims" in Brooklyn, was the next speaker. His preparation and delivery were of the same character as those of Dr. Adams. But he possesses great mental power. He occupied exactly half an hour. Both speakers complained bitterly of diminished confidence and contributions. I forget the exact amount announced as the contribution of this auxiliary; but it was small. Dr. Cox, of Brooklyn, was the third speaker. He told us that the last meeting he had attended in England, a few months before, was the missionary meeting in Birmingham. It was held in the town-hall, a magnificent building, and well filled. He pronounced an eloquent eulogy on John Angell James. He described the missionary breakfast in Birmingham; but, in mentioning such a thing as a "missionary breakfast," he felt it necessary to make some apology. He assured them it was not attended with the evils they might be apt to imagine would be inseparably connected with it. The fact is that missionary breakfasts are altogether unknown in America. Dr. Cox stated that he had often been asked in England how they managed missionary meetings in America, that the people of England held them in high estimation, that in England they depended chiefly for the support of the missionary cause upon legacies, stock, &c., while they in America were content to say, "Give us day by day our daily bread." He also mentioned Dr. Chalmers's eulogy upon them. While in England, he (Dr. Cox) and another had waited upon Sir Stratford Canning, to commend their mission at Constantinople to his kind notice, and Sir Stratford had spoken in very high terms of the American people. Thus, even at the missionary meeting, incense must be offered to national vanity.



LETTER XXVIII.

A Visit to Mount Vernon—Dr. Robinson—Welsh Deputation—Queen Anne and New York—The Sabbath—Preaching at Dr. L's—Afternoon Service at Mr. C——'s—Tea at Dr. L——'s—Evening Service at Mr.——'s.

The next day my wife and I paid our promised visit to the institution of the Abbotts at Mount Vernon. In its government there are neither rewards nor punishments; but each pupil, at the close of the day, has to present a brief report of her own conduct. Her good deeds and her bad deeds must be alike proclaimed—proclaimed by herself,—and that in the presence of her fellow-pupils who were witnesses of the conduct to which she refers. This compels her to be faithful. If she tries to conceal what was faulty, she is surrounded by those who will detect that concealment: if she ostentatiously parades her own excellences, she knows she will sink in the estimation of her friends. The encouragement of self-respect, and of a regard for that which is good for its own sake, are the great principles of government in this establishment.

Mr. Abbott's plan of teaching a language is, not at first to weary the pupils with the dry rules of grammar, but to store their memories with words. He read a word or a short sentence in French, for instance, and asked the pupils to translate it into English. Then, with closed books, he would give them the English in like manner to be turned into French. I have since adopted the plan with Latin pupils with pleasure and success.

Mr. Abbott allows a recess of five minutes at the close of every half-hour. The hours of attendance are from 9 A.M. to 2 P.M.; but a rest of half an hour is allowed in the midst of that period. We happened to be there when the said half-hour arrived. All the Abbotts, the pupils, and ourselves went out to the playground, which was furnished with seats, and swings, and skipping-ropes, and swinging-boats, and all sorts of machines for exercise and amusement. In these gymnastic performances the Abbotts themselves joined the pupils, with a beautiful combination of freedom and propriety. A happier assemblage I never saw. We retired highly delighted with all we had witnessed.

In the afternoon I had the honour of being introduced to Dr. Robinson, whose Greek Lexicon I had often thumbed with advantage. He appeared to be from 45 to 50 years of age. His manners were exceedingly simple and unostentatious,—the constant characteristics of true greatness. I looked upon him with high respect and veneration. He is a man of whom America may well be proud. He pressed me to go and address the students at Union College, of which he is one of the Professors; but an opportunity of doing so did not occur.

In the evening I was waited upon by two gentlemen who announced themselves as the "President and Secretary" of a Welsh Temperance Society, and wished me to attend and address one of their meetings at a given time. This I could not do. In conversation with them about slavery, and the oppression of the coloured people, I was surprised and grieved to find how soon the Welsh people imbibed the feelings and aped the conduct of the Americans in those matters. On their pressing me to attend a meeting of their society on some future occasion, I told them I was one of the most downright Abolitionists that ever lived, and, if I came, would terrify them all with such an abolition speech as they had never heard. This, of course, was cold water upon their love, and our interview soon terminated.

The weather for the next two days was so unfavourable that we could not go out at all. Among the information I then derived from books were the following precious morsels from the Introduction to the Natural History of New York: "The Governor was directed by Queen Anne to take especial care that the Almighty should be devoutly and duly served according to the rites of the Church of England," and was at the same time desired by the Queen "to take especial care that the colony should have a constant and sufficient supply of merchantable negroes at moderate rates." Just what our own West India planters now want! Oh! how they would hail the return of the palmy days of Queen Anne!

On Sabbath the 28th of March I was invited to preach in the morning in the church of Dr. L——, a Congregational place of worship, capable of accommodating about 500 persons. The attendance was not more than 200. There I was delighted to find no negro pew. A few coloured children were intermingled with the white ones in the gallery. The Doctor, to whom I had not been introduced, was already in the pulpit when I arrived. The ceremony of introduction to each other had to be duly performed in the rostrum. He is a fine, tall, clean, and venerable-looking old gentleman. He began the service, and, before sermon, announced that they would then "take up" the usual collection. That place of worship is what they call a "Free Church,"—i.e. there is no pew-letting; as a substitute for which, they "take up" a weekly collection. The Doctor also made the following announcement: "A Missionary of the London Missionary Society, from Guiana, one of the South American possessions of Britain,—his name is Mr. Davies,—will now preach; and in the evening Professor Kellog from——, a long friend of mine, will preach." At the close I was introduced to the Doctor's long friend, Professor Kellog; and sure enough he was a "long" one! There was present also Professor Whipple, of the Oberlin Institute, to whom I had before been introduced.

In the afternoon I preached for a Mr. C——, in a Presbyterian Church. The place was beautiful, commodious, and nearly full. The pastor introduced the service. In his manner of doing so, I was very much struck with—what I had before often observed in our Transatlantic brethren—a great apparent want of reverence and fervour. The singing was very good—in the choir. In my address, I urged them to give their legislators, and their brethren in the South, no rest till the guilt and disgrace of slavery were removed from their national character and institutions. I also besought them, as men of intelligence and piety, to frown upon the ridiculous and contemptible prejudice against colour wherever it might appear. To all which they listened with apparent kindness and interest.

We took tea by invitation with Dr. L——, for whom I had preached in the morning. There we met with his nice wife, nice deacon, nice little daughters, and nice nieces,—but a most intolerable nephew. This man professed to be greatly opposed to slavery, and yet was full of contempt for "niggers." He talked and laughed over divisions in certain churches, and told the company how he used occasionally to go on Sunday nights to hear a celebrated minister, just "for the sake of hearing him talk—ha—ha—ha!" And yet this was a professor of religion!

On the subject of slavery the following conversation took place:—

Nephew.—"If I were in a Slave State, I would not hold slaves."

Aunt.—"Ah! but you would."

Nephew.—"No! that I would not."

Aunt.—"You could not live there without."

Dr. L.——(gravely).—"Well, I guess we had better pray, 'Lead us not into temptation.'"

Aunt. (devoutly)—"I guess we had."

By-and-by one of the young ladies said to my wife, "I guess we had better go and fix our things, and get ready for church." This was the signal for the breaking up of our social enjoyment, which would have been one of unmingled pleasure, had it not been for this noisy, conceited, talkative nephew.

In the evening I had to preach again for Mr.——, the place where the coloured gentleman was refused admission to the body of the church. The building was very fine, and the congregation very large. Professor Fowler, of Amherst College, who happened to be present, read the Scriptures and prayed. My subject was "the woes and wants of the African race." I touched upon American slavery, and gave details of the horrors of the slave traffic as at present carried on. I also bore testimony against the cruel prejudice which so extensively exists against the African colour. All were attentive, except one man, who rose and walked out; and I fancied him saying to himself, "I am not going to sit here to listen to this abolition nonsense any longer." And so ended my Sabbath in New York.



LETTER XXIX.

The Rev. Theodore Sedgwick Wright—His Testimony against Caste—His Funeral—Drs. Cox and Patton—The Service in the House—The Procession—The Church—The Funeral Oration—Mrs. Wright.

During my stay at this time in New York, there died in that city the Rev. Theodore Sedgwick Wright, a Presbyterian minister of colour. His attainments and talents were very respectable; and for fifteen years he had been the successful pastor of a church of coloured people in the city.

Before you accompany me to his funeral, listen to his voice. Though "dead, he yet speaketh." He had felt this cruel prejudice against the colour of his skin as iron entering his soul. Here is his touching testimony on the subject, delivered in a speech at Boston eleven years before his death:—

"No man can really understand this prejudice, unless he feels it crushing him to the dust, because it is a matter of feeling. It has bolts, scourges, and bars, wherever the coloured man goes. It has bolts in all the schools and colleges. The coloured parent, with the same soul as a white parent, sends his child to the seats of learning; and he finds the door bolted, and he sits down to weep beside his boy. Prejudice stands at the door, and bars him out. Does the child of the coloured man show a talent for mechanics, the heart of the parent beats with hope. He sees the children of the white man engaged in employment; and he trusts that there is a door open to his boy, to get an honest living, and become a useful member of society. But, when he comes to the workshop with his child, he finds a bolt there. But, even suppose that he can get this first bolt removed, he finds other bars. He can't work. Let him be ever so skilled in mechanics, up starts prejudice, and says, 'I won't work in the shop if you do.' Here he is scourged by prejudice, and has to go back, and sink down to some of the employments which white men leave for the most degraded. He hears of the death of a child from home, and he goes in a stage or a steam-boat. His money is received, but he is scourged there by prejudice. If he is sick, he can have no bed, he is driven on deck: money will not buy for him the comforts it gets for all who have not his complexion. He turns to some friend among the white men. Perhaps that white man had sat at his table at home, but he does not resist prejudice here. He says, 'Submit. 'Tis an ordinance of God,—you must be humble.' Sir, I have felt this. As a minister, I have been called to pass often up and down the North River in steam-boats. Many a night I have walked the deck, and not been allowed to lie down in a bed. Prejudice would even turn money to dross when it was offered for these comforts by a coloured man. Thus prejudice scourges us from the table; it scourges us from the cabin, from the stage-coach, from the bed. Wherever we go, it has for us bolts, bars, and rods."

And now let us attend the speaker's funeral. Professor Whipple will be our guide. As we proceed, crowds of coloured people are hastening in the same direction from all quarters. We are at the house. But so great is the throng that it is impossible to get in. Here, however, comes Dr. Cox. "Make room for Dr. Cox!"—"Make room for Dr. Cox!" is now heard on every hand. A path is opened for the great man, and we little men slip in at his skirt. On reaching the room where the remains of the good man lie, we find Dr. Patton and the Rev. Mr. Hatfield. They and Dr. Cox are there in a semi-official capacity, as representing the Presbytery with which Mr. Wright was connected. Louis Tappan, the long-tried and faithful friend of the coloured race, is there also. I am asked to be a pall-bearer: without at all reflecting on the duties and inconveniences of the office, I good-naturedly consent. A white cotton scarf is instantly thrown over my shoulder. There is the coffin; and there is a lifelike portrait of Mr. Wright hung up against the wall, and looking as it were down upon that coffin. But you can see the face of Mr. Wright himself. The coffin-lid is screwed down; but there is a square of glass, like a little window, just over the face, as is generally the case in America, and you can have a view of the whole countenance.

A black man reads a hymn, and, in connection with it, begins an address in a very oracular style, and with very solemn pauses. A hint is given him not to proceed. They sing. Mr. Hatfield delivers an appropriate address. A coloured minister prays, sometimes using the first person singular, and sometimes the first person plural; also talking about the "meanderings of life," and a great deal of other nonsense.

We move down stairs. The immense procession starts. Drs. Cox and Patton, Mr. Hatfield, and about half-a-dozen more white ministers, are in it. As we pass on from street to street, and from crossing to crossing, all sorts of people seem to regard the procession with the utmost respect. The cabmen, 'busmen, and cartmen behave exceedingly well. But did you overhear what those three or four low dirty men said as we approached? I am ashamed to tell, because those men are not Americans, but Irishmen,—"Here comes the dead nigger!" The boys, now and then, are also overheard counting how many white men there are in the procession.

We are now at the church. After much delay and difficulty we enter. The place, which is not large, is crammed. There must be about 600 people in. Dr. Cox urges them to make room for more, and says there are not more than one-tenth in of those who wish to enter. If so, there must be a concourse of 6,000 people, and not more than twenty whites among them all!

A coloured man gives out a hymn. Dr. Cox reads the Scriptures, and makes a few remarks. Dr. Patton delivers an oration. In that oration, while speaking of Mr. Wright's anti-slavery feelings as being very strong, he adds, with very questionable taste, "But at the same time our brother had no sympathy with those who indulged in denunciation, wrath, and blackguardism. He would never touch the missiles which none but scoundrels use." What a selection of words in a funeral oration! In speaking of Mr. Wright's labours in connection with that church for fifteen years, he says, "Our brother had difficulties which other men have not. Two or three years ago he had to trudge about the city, under the full muzzle of a July or August sun, to beg money in order to extricate this place from pecuniary difficulties. On one occasion, after walking all the way to the upper part of the city to call upon a gentleman from whom he hoped to receive a donation, he found that he had just left his residence for his office in the city. Our brother, though greatly exhausted, was compelled to walk the same distance down again; for—to the shame, the everlasting shame of our city be it spoken—our brother, on account of his colour, could not avail himself of one of the public conveyances. The next week disease laid hold of him, and he never recovered."

What a strong and unexpected testimony against that cruel prejudice! According to this testimony, Theodore Sedgwick Wright fell a victim to it. But who would have thought that Dr. Patton, who thus denounced the cabmen and 'busmen of New York, had at the very time the "Negro Pew" in his own church!

While on this subject, let me tell you another fact respecting poor Mr. Wright. The life of his first wife was sacrificed to this heartless and unmanly feeling. He was travelling with her by steam-boat between New York and Boston. They had to be out all night, and a bitter cold winter's night it was. Being coloured people, their only accommodation was the "hurricane-deck." Mrs. Wright was delicate. Her husband offered to pay any money, if they would only let her be in the kitchen or the pantry. No,—she was a "nigger," and could not be admitted. Mr. Wright wrapped her in his own cloak, and placed her against the chimney to try to obtain for her a little warmth. But she took a severe cold, and soon died. His colour, it would seem, hastened his own exit to rejoin her in that world where such absurd and inhuman distinctions are unknown.

Dr. Patton's oration is now ended. But—did you ever hear such a thing at a funeral?—that minister in the table pew is actually giving out—

"Praise God, from whom all blessings flow!"

and they sing it to a funeral tune!

We start for the place of burial. But it is a long way off, and I had better spare you the journey. The great men fell off one after another; but my pall-bearing office compelled me to remain to the last. It was 4 o'clock P.M. before the solemnities were closed.



LETTER XXX.

Trip to New Haven—Captain Stone and his Tender Feeling—Arrival in New Haven—A Call from Dr. Bacon and the Rev. Mr. Dutton—Newspapers—The Centre Church and Standing Order—The North Church and Jonathan Edwards, junior.

Now for an excursion to New Haven. We leave by the steamer "Traveller," Captain Stone, at 61/2 A.M. Wrap yourself up well; it is piercing cold, being the 30th of March. This boat is altogether different from the boats on the Mississippi. It seems to belong to quite another species. It is, however, admirably adapted for its purpose,—that of running along a stormy coast. In the gentlemen's cabin are three tiers of berths, one above another like so many book-shelves. The engine works outside, like a top-sawyer. We shall pass "Hell Gate" directly; but don't be alarmed. You would not have known it, had I not told you. The Hog's Back, the Frying Pan, and other places of Knickerbocker celebrity, are in this neighbourhood.

Let us go to the ladies' saloon. Well! I declare! There is a coloured woman, and allowed to remain unmolested! Things improve as we approach New England, and are much better even there than they were a few years ago.

But here comes the captain muffled up. He brings with him a poor sickly-looking woman, begs the ladies' pardon, and bids her sit down by the stove and warm herself. He then tells the passengers her painful story. The night before, in New York, this woman came on board, from one of the Philadelphia boats, bringing with her a bed and a child. On being spoken to by the captain, she informed him that she was on her way from St. Louis to her home in Massachusetts,—that she had been fifteen days upon the journey, and had two children with her. On being asked where the other was, she replied, "There it is," pointing to the bed, where, clad in its usual dress, the little sufferer, released from the trials of life, lay extended in death. It had caught cold, and died in her arms in New York. She was friendless and penniless, and wanted a passage to New Haven. The captain had obtained a coroner's inquest over the body, purchased for it a little coffin, had it decently laid out, and gratified her maternal feelings by allowing her to bring it with her, that it might be buried in her village-home in Massachusetts. All this he had done without money and without price, had also given her a free passage to New Haven, and was about to forward her home by railway at his own expense! Captain Stone—"what's in a name?"—at the close of this statement had to take out his pocket-handkerchief, and wipe away a few manly tears from his weather-beaten cheeks, as he added, "I have met in my life with many cases of distress, but with none that came so much to my heart as this." His object, in introducing the woman and her case, was to make an appeal to the passengers on her behalf. He did so; and the result was a subscription amounting to about five pounds sterling, which was handed over to her. Captain Stone's was a deed worthy of a golden inscription!

It is half-past 11 A.M., and we are now at the landing-place in the harbour of New Haven, having accomplished the distance from New York, about 80 miles, in five hours! We have a long wharf of 3,943 feet to travel; and then we set foot for the first time on the soil of New England. We have been invited to make our abode here with the Rev. Leicester Sawyer, who makes his abode at Deacon Wilcoxon's, corner of Sherman-avenue and Park-street. Thither, therefore, let us go. Mr. Sawyer, whom we had before met in New York, is the author of several books, comprising two on Mental and Moral Philosophy, and was also lately the President of the Central College of Ohio. Deacon Wilcoxon and his wife are plain, homely, kind Christian people. They make you feel at home as soon as you have crossed their threshold.

Soon after our arrival the Rev. Dr. Bacon and the Rev. Mr. Dutton, the pastors of the "first" and "second" Congregational Churches in this city, honour us with a call. This is brotherly, and more than we could have expected. Dr. Bacon regrets that he is going from home, and cannot have us to spend a few days at his house. Mr. Dutton, however, presses us to accept of his hospitality. We promise to do so in a day or two. Dr. Bacon is one of the great men of New England. He is a living encyclopaedia,—a walking library. He keeps fully up with the literature and sciences of the day. I have not met a man, either in the Old World or in the New, that so thoroughly understood the state of the British West Indies at the present time as he does. He might have spent years in that part of the world, and devoted himself to its exclusive study. His position at home is high, and his influence great. The estimation in which he is held in New England may be judged of by the fact, that when, in August 1846, Dr. Theodore Dwight Woolsey had to be installed as President of Yale College, Dr. Bacon, living within a stone's throw of that institution, was the man chosen to preach the inauguration sermon.

In the middle of the afternoon, my friend Mr. Sawyer presses me to preach in his place of worship—the Howe-street Church—this evening. I consent. By-and-by I observe him very busy with some slips of paper; and I ask him what he is doing? "I am sending," he says, "notices to the evening papers, to make it known that you are going to preach this evening!" What a people the Americans are for newspapers! New Haven has only a population of about 18,000; and yet it has six daily papers—all having a weekly issue besides, two monthly periodicals, and two quarterly ones! The daily papers are, I believe, none of them more than 5 dollars (a guinea) a year, or 2 cents (one penny) per number. No paper duty, and no stamp. At the service in the evening several ministers and students were present.

The next day snow to the depth of six inches cover the ground. Let us, however, turn out in the afternoon. We will go and see the central square,—or the Green, as it is commonly called. This is a large open space like a park, surrounded on all sides with rows of stately elms, and is considered one of the most beautiful spots in the United States. And now we are in a position to take a full view. Three churches, arranged side by side on this open space, at a few rods from each other, stand before us. The central one has the most imposing aspect. It is a large Grecian building; having a portico, supported by four massive columns, from which rises a lofty bell-tower, ending in a spire. The combination of the belfry or spire with the Grecian style is a violation of propriety; but I like it. This is the "first" Congregational Church—that in which Dr. Bacon ministers. That church—not the building—is coeval with the colony, and can trace back its history for more than 200 years. It was formerly a State Church. Congregationalism was for ages the "standing order," or the established religion, in Connecticut! All the people were taxed for its support; and no man could have any share in the administration of the civil government, or give his vote in any election, unless he was a member of one of the churches. It was not till forty years after the separation of Church and State in Virginia, where the establishment was Episcopal, that the example was followed in Connecticut. Happily, however, in 1816 all parties that differed from it—Episcopalians, Baptists, Methodists, Universalists, &c., combined together, gained a majority in the legislature, and severed the connection between Congregationalism and the State! There are old men now living who then anxiously and piously "trembled for the Ark of the Lord." They have, however, lived to see that the dissolution of the union between Church and State in Connecticut, as in Virginia, was to the favoured sect as "life from the dead." The Congregationalist of the one, and the Episcopalian of the other, would alike deprecate being placed in the same position again. But this is a digression.

We are still looking at these churches. The church on our right, which is about the same size and of the same architectural character as the other, though not quite so showy, is the "second" Congregational Church, commonly called the North Church—that in which Mr. Button now ministers. This church originated in the "great awakening" in 1740, was formed in 1742, and has a history of more than a century in duration. It arose from dissatisfaction with the ministry of a Mr. Noyes, a contemporary of Jonathan Edwards, but one who had no sympathy in Edwards's views and spirit. This man was, indeed, greatly opposed to the "awakening," and refused George Whitfield admission to his pulpit. The originators of this second church, therefore, separated from the original parent, availed themselves of the Act of Toleration, and became Congregational Dissenters from a Congregational Establishment! They had of course no State support, nor were they "free from taxation by the society from which they dissented." "The foundations of this church, my brethren," said its present gifted pastor, in a sermon preached at the centenary of its formation, "are love of evangelical doctrine, of ecclesiastical liberty, of revivals of religion. Such ever be its superstructure."

Here, for a quarter of a century, lived and laboured Jonathan Edwards the younger. Perhaps you have never before heard of him; neither had I till I came to New Haven. If you won't think it too long to be detained here standing in front of the church, I will tell you a few facts respecting him. He was the second son and ninth child of the celebrated Jonathan Edwards of Northampton. His mother, too, was an extraordinary woman. You will smile at the impression she made on the mind of good old George Whitfield. He had spent two days at Mr. Edwards's house in Northampton; and he says, "I felt wonderful satisfaction in being at the house of Mr. Edwards. He is a son himself, and hath a daughter of Abraham for his wife. A sweeter couple I have not yet seen. She is a woman adorned with a meek and quiet spirit, and talked so feelingly and solidly of the things of God, and seemed to be such a helpmeet to her husband, that she caused me to renew those prayers which for some months I have put up to God, that he would send me a daughter of Abraham to be my wife. I find, upon many accounts, it is my duty to marry. Lord, I desire to have no choice of my own. Thou knowest my circumstances."

In quoting this, an American writer adds, "He had not yet learned, if he ever did, that God is not pleased to make such 'sweet couples' out of persons who have no choice of their own."

Mr. Edwards, junior, or rather Dr. Edwards, was (like his father) a great scholar and a profound divine. He was frequently invited to assist at the examinations in Yale College. On those occasions he used frequently to display his strictness and accuracy by calling out, "Haud recte" (not right). This procured him the sobriquet of "Old Haud Recte," by which he was afterwards known among the students. Some time after his resignation of the pastorate of this church he became the President of Union College. His works have recently been published in two large octavo volumes. There is a striking parallel between the father and the son. They were alike in the character of their minds and in their intellectual developments. The name, education, and early employments of the two were alike. Both were pious in their youth; both were distinguished scholars; both were tutors for equal periods in the colleges where they were respectively educated; both were settled in the ministry as successors to their maternal grandfathers; both were dismissed, and again settled in retired places, where they had leisure to prepare and publish their works; both were removed from those stations to become presidents of colleges; both died shortly after their respective inaugurations, the one in the 56th and the other in the 57th year of their age; and each of them preached on the first Sabbath of the year of his death from the same text—"This year thou shalt die!"

But we must not dwell too long on these historical incidents. I have told you something about the Centre Church and the North Church. That Gothic building on our left is an episcopal church. That white building immediately in the rear of the Centre Church is the State House, completed in 1831. It is constructed of stone and marble, and forms a prominent ornament of the city. It presents one of the best copies of a Grecian temple I have seen in the States. In the rear of the North Church, quite at the remote corner of the Green, stands a plain barn-like Methodist chapel. And, behind the whole, peeping through the elm-trees, you see the long range of buildings which constitutes Yale College. Take it all in all, a view more interesting than that from the spot on which we now stand I have never beheld.



LETTER XXXI.

The Spot on which Whitfield preached—Judge Daggett—Governor Yale —Yale College—The Libraries—Elliot's Indian Bible—Geological Museum—Dr. Goodrich—Education and Expenses at Yale College—The Graves of the Regicides.

Before I take you to "Yale," let me show you the spot on the Green on which, in 1745, Whitfield, being refused admission to the Congregational church, preached in the open air, under a tree, to an immense congregation,—so great at that time was the dislike to a fervid evangelical ministry. But more than a century has rolled away; and how changed is the scene!

But, observe you that feeble, tottering old gentleman coming along the avenue? It is the Hon. David Daggett, LL.D., late Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Connecticut. He is a member, and, I believe, a deacon of one of the Congregational churches in this city. Twelve or thirteen years ago that very man, sitting on the judicial bench, condemned Miss Randall to be punished for—teaching a coloured child to read!

Now for Yale. The Rev. Samuel W. S. Dutton, the minister of the North Church, will accompany us. This institution was founded in the year 1700. It derived its name from the Hon. Elihu Yale, a gentleman, I am proud to say, descended from an ancient and respectable family in Wales. His father, Thomas Yale, Esq., came over with the first settlers of New Haven. His son Elihu went to England at ten years of age, and to the East Indies at thirty. In the latter country he resided about twenty years, was made Governor of Madras, acquired a large fortune, returned to England, was chosen Governor of the East India Company, and died at Wrexham in Denbighshire in 1721. On several occasions he made munificent donations to the new institution during the years of its infancy and weakness, on account of which the trustees by a solemn act named it "Yale College."

The college buildings—which, like Rome, were not all erected in a day—consist of four plain spacious edifices, built of brick, each four stories high, and presenting a front, including passage-ways, of about 600 feet. That neat white house on your right, as you stand before these buildings, is the President's dwelling—the very house in which resided Dr. Timothy Dwight. But you are not looking at it. Ah! I see your attention is attracted by that student sitting on the sill of the open window of his study, having in his hand a book, and in his mouth a pipe of clay; by which, with the aid of fire, he is reducing a certain tropical weed into its original chemical elements. Perhaps you think that rather undignified; and so it is. I wish you had not seen it; but worse is done at Oxford and Cambridge.

Behind this range of buildings is another, a more modern and more imposing pile. This extends in front 151 feet, is built of red sandstone, is in the Gothic style, and contains the libraries of the institution. The central building, called the College Hall, containing the College Library properly so called, measures in front 51 feet, and in depth from front to rear 95 feet, having at each corner a tower of the extreme height of 91 feet. The interior is one room, whose measurement is 83 feet by 41, resembling in form a Gothic chapel, with its nave and aisles. The nave is 51 feet high, and its breadth 17 feet. Between its clustered pillars on either side are alcoves, each 10 feet by 12, fitted up with shelves for books. The number of volumes it now contains is about 20,000. The extreme wings and the connecting wings on either side are very elegant, and fitted up for various libraries connected with the institution, such as the Students' Library, the Reading Room, the Calliopean Library, and the Livonian Library. The Students' Library contains 9,000 volumes. This beautiful range of buildings probably contains not fewer than 40,000 volumes; and ere long the number will be doubled! Little did the ten ministers who, in 1700, met together to establish this seminary, each laying down his donation of books with these words, "I give these books for the founding of a college in this colony," and who found that their joint-contribution amounted to only forty volumes,—little did they think what that small beginning would come to!

You are looking out for literary curiosities. Here is one—Elliot's Indian Bible! You have heard of Elliot, "the Apostle of the North American Indians." Here is a translation of the entire sacred volume into one of the languages of those people. The New Testament was published in 1661, and the Old Testament in 1663. The book before us is a copy of the second edition of the New Testament in 1680, and of the Old Testament in 1685. But where are those Indians, or their descendants? They are extinct; and there is not now a man on the whole continent of America that speaks their language!

Time will not permit me to describe the Picture Gallery, the Anatomical Museum, the Cabinet of the Materia Medica, the Museum of Natural History, and many other objects of interest. You must, however, take a peep at the Mineral Cabinet, or Geological Museum. It has been collected and arranged, with great industry and taste, by Professor Silliman. Look at this meteoric iron-stone. It fell a few years ago in Texas, and weighs 1,635 lbs.!