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