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.