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 DepÔt, 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.