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        <author>Payne, Daniel Alexander, 1811-1893</author>
        <editor role="editor">Smith, C. S. (Charles Spencer), 1852-1923, Ed.</editor>
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    <front>
      <div1 type="cover">
        <p>
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      <div1 type="frontispiece">
        <p>
          <figure id="frontis" entity="paynefp">
            <p>BISHOP DANIEL A. PAYNE, D.D., L.L.D.<lb/>[Frontispiece Image]</p>
          </figure>
        </p>
      </div1>
      <div1 type="title page">
        <p>
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      <titlePage>
        <docTitle>
          <titlePart type="main">
            <hi rend="italics">Recollections of Seventy Years;</hi>
          </titlePart>
        </docTitle>
        <byline>By</byline>
        <docAuthor>Bishop DANIEL ALEXANDER PAYNE, D.D., LL.D., <lb/> SENIOR BISHOP OF THE AFRICAN METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH.</docAuthor>
        <docEdition>WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY <lb/> REV. F. J. GRIMKE, A.M., D.D. </docEdition>
        <docEdition>COMPILED AND ARRANGED BY <lb/> SARAH C. BIERCE SCARBOROUGH
<lb/>EDITED BY <lb/> REV. C. S. SMITH.</docEdition>
        <docImprint><pubPlace>NASHVILLE, TENN.:</pubPlace>
<publisher>PUBLISHING HOUSE OF THE A. M. E. SUNDAY SCHOOL UNION.</publisher>
<docDate>1888.</docDate></docImprint>
        <pb id="p2" n="2"/>
        <docImprint>
          <docDate>Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1888, <lb/> BY THE SUNDAY SCHOOL UNION OF THE A. M. E. CHURCH, <lb/> in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.</docDate>
        </docImprint>
      </titlePage>
      <div1 type="preface">
        <pb id="p3" n="3"/>
        <head>PREFACE.</head>
        <p>THE author of these personal memoirs, having been solicited by Rev. C. S. Smith for a sketch of his life with reminiscences, yielded to the solicitation; but having neither time nor taste for the preparation of such a volume, the compiler was requested by him (Rev. C. S. Smith) to compile and arrange the materials for the work. In so doing a fourfold aim has been kept in view:</p>
        <p>1. To give accurately the salient points concerning the life and labors of the author.</p>
        <p>2. To weave in as far as possible historical <hi rend="italics">data</hi> as to men and things generally, and as to the African Methodist Episcopal Church in particular.</p>
        <p>3. To choose such material as will best exhibit his character, his piety, his life-long devotion to the cause of education, his orphan childhood after being “thrice consecrated to the Lord's service,” his lowly beginning, trials, and struggles, and his subsequent exaltation, victories, and honors—so that such an example may prove an incentive to the children and youth.</p>
        <p>4. To preserve intact, as nearly as possible, his own words, keeping the chronological order.</p>
        <p>In the preparation the compiler has had access to two written volumes of “Reminiscences of Threescore Years and Ten,” as well as journals extending over a half-century. No liberties have been taken except in <hi rend="italics">omissions,</hi> in order to avoid unnecessary repetition or too minute detail or too personal reference, and in <hi rend="italics">connecting</hi> the whole into a continuous narrative from the present stand-point of time, even sacrificing smoothness of narrative
<pb id="p4" n="4"/>
at times in the endeavor to reproduce the exact wording found in these daily records. Much of interest has also been added as taken from the author's own lips.</p>
        <p>The volume in MS. has been submitted to him for review, and takes its place as personal memoirs, with his full approbation and approval of the material contained within and the disposition made of it.</p>
        <closer>
          <signed>S. C. B. S.</signed>
        </closer>
      </div1>
      <div1 type="section">
        <pb id="p5" n="5"/>
        <head>INTRODUCTION.</head>
        <p>THE following volume will be welcomed by thousands. No man of our race has had a wider influence, or has contributed more toward the intellectual, moral, and spiritual elevation of our people than the author of these memoirs. For more than forty years he has been before the public, and for more than thirty years has filled the high and responsible position which he at present occupies. During all these years his name has been associated only with that which is highest and purest and best. Ever ready to lend a helping hand in every worthy cause; indefatigable in his efforts in the cause of education, morals, and religion, he has justly earned for himself an exceptionally high place in the respect and esteem of thousands. Lifted above all selfish aims and desires, above all personal ambitions or love of glory, he has thought only of the work to be done—how it could be best effected, and where he could be most useful. And as a result he has made himself felt in many quarters, and has set in operation influences that will continue to be felt for good for generations to come. In the A. M. E. Church especially he has been the great central figure for years. It is not too much to say that to him, more than to any other man, is to be traced its present prosperous condition. No one can read his earnest appeals in behalf of an educated ministry, and remember his indefatigable efforts in behalf of Wilberforce University, without being made to feel how different the history of this great Church might have been without his influence.</p>
        <p>The noble life so graphically portrayed in these pages is full of useful and important lessons. It shows what industry and perseverance will accomplish even under the most unfavorable
<pb id="p6" n="6"/>
circumstances. Born in a slave-holding State, with little or no advantages of education—indeed, with almost insuperable obstacles placed in his way—he yet succeeded in making himself proficient in many branches of learning, and so qualified himself as to be able to instruct others. How eloquently does this life, out of the difficulties with which it had to contend, and the grand results which were the outcome of his earnest, self-sacrificing labors, plead with the young men and women of to-day to seize the flying moments, freighted as they are with priceless opportunities for improvement! It shows the value of a high purpose steadily adhered to. In infancy he was consecrated by a godly father and mother to the service of God. With this idea he began life, and along that line he has steadily marched during all these years; and from the summit of this high resolve he will one day step out of this world to be forever with God.</p>
        <p>It shows how, with proper care and attention, the smallest gifts may be made to yield a large return. Naturally of a weak constitution, he has, by husbanding his strength, been enabled to do an amount of work which is perfectly astonishing; and to-day, although far advanced in years, he is still actively engaged in the arduous duties of his position. It shows the importance of order if any thing is to be accomplished. His life has been a thoroughly systematic one. A time for every thing and every thing in its time has been with him a ruling principle of action during all his life, and will account for the large amount of work which he has been enabled to accomplish. For many years he has risen at five o'clock in the morning, winter and summer; has had the same time for study whether at home or away. And this system or order has been carried into every part of his busy life, and with the happiest effect, both upon his personal character and in the results which have flowed from his labors.</p>
        <p>His life has also its lesson of humility, blended with a high sense of official responsibility. One of the most striking chapters in the book is that which describes his election to the bishopric.
<pb id="p7" n="7"/>
When first approached on the subject he positively refused to allow his name to be used. And when, four years later, he was literally forced into it, the effect of his election upon him reveals to us a spirit as rare as it is beautiful. To quote his own words: “I trembled from head to foot, and wept. I knew that I was unworthy of the office, because I had neither the physical strength, the learning, nor the sanctity which make one fit for such a high, holy, and responsible position.” These words ought to be written in letters of gold, and carefully commended to all aspirants after ecclesiastical honors. How great the contrast between the noble spirit which they exhibit and the unworthy greed for power and position which characterizes, alas! too many in the Church to-day!</p>
        <p>God grant that the record of this life, so child-like in simplicity, so devout, so full of good works, so lofty in character, so sublime in purpose, may leave a lasting impress upon all into whose hands this book may come!</p>
        <closer><signed>FRANCIS J. GRIMKE.</signed>
<dateline>Jacksonville, Fla.</dateline></closer>
      </div1>
      <div1 type="contents">
        <pb id="p8" n="8"/>
        <head>CONTENTS.</head>
        <list type="simple">
          <item>CHAPTER I. PARENTAGE AND ANCESTRY.
<lb/>
Place of Birth—Recollections of My Father—Made a Slave—Name of Payne—My Mother—Her Ancestry—Her Piety—My Early Religious Impressions—Death of Parents—My Grandaunt <ref targOrder="U" target="p11">11-13</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER II. CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH.
<lb/>
The Minor's Moralist Society—A Descendant of the Huguenots—My First School and School-master—A Short Stay with a Shoe-merchant—A Carpenter's Apprentice—Nine Months with the “Tailor's Goose”—A Turning-point—Consecrated to the Lord. <ref targOrder="U" target="p14">14-18</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER III. THE SCHOOL-MASTER IN THE DARK SOUTH.
<lb/>
A Small Income—Discouragements—Offer of a Trip to the West Indies—Master and Slave—Fatal Statement—Re-opening of My School—Eclipse of 1832—A Maker of Books—A Curious Caterpillar—Dr. Bachman—“A Young Philosopher”—Enemies—“Pa, Payne is Playing Hell in Charleston.” <ref targOrder="U" target="p19">19-23</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER IV. EXERCISE OF THE SLAVE-HOLDING POWER.
<lb/>
Legislative Enactment—Penalties for Teaching Free Colored Persons and Slaves—Nero's Wish, Mine—Determination to Go North—Letters of Introduction—Last Days of School-teaching in the South—Consolatory Lines—A Month of Preparation <ref targOrder="U" target="p27">27-40</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER V. FIRST EXPERIENCES IN THE NORTH.
<lb/>
Taking Leave—Out on the Sea—Arrival in New York—My First Welcome—First Visit to an Anti - slavery Society—George Thompson and Lewis Tappan—Delivering Letters of Introduction—Dr. Bachman's Letters <ref targOrder="U" target="p41">41-55</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER VI. EXPERIENCE AT GETTYSBURG.
<lb/>
Departure for Gettysburg—Call upon President Schmucker—“Not Colonizationists, but Abolitionists”—The First A. M. E. Church at Gettysburg—The Church at Carlisle, Pa.—Old Elder Cornish and Rev. Henry C. Turner—Douglass, Payne, and Smith <ref targOrder="U" target="p56">56-71</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER VII. PULPIT, PRESS, SCHOOL-ROOM.
<lb/>
Resignation—Again in the School - room—Joining the A. M. E. Church—Call to the Itinerancy—Israel Church in Washington, D. C.—Again at the Carpenter's Bench—First Published Thoughts—General Conference of 1844—Some Bad Customs <ref targOrder="U" target="p72">72-81</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER VIII. A DISASTROUS VOYAGE.
<lb/>
A Delegate to the First Evangelical Alliance in London—The voyage Undertaken—Neptune's Wrath—Sublime and Terrific Scene—Trust in God—Return to Port—A Dream—Directed to Remain at Home—Companions on Board Ship—American Prejudice <ref targOrder="U" target="p82">82-91</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER IX. AFFLICTIONS—CITIES OF THE DEAD.
<lb/>
Return to Baltimore—First Marriage—A Severe Church Trouble—Appointment to Ebenezer Church—Death of Bishop Morris Brown—Bishop Waters—Researches for Church History—Mount Auburn <ref targOrder="U" target="p92">92-99</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER X. A TWO-YEARS' SEARCH.
<lb/>
General Convention of 1816—Formation of the A. M. E. Church—Daniel Coker, First Elected Bishop—Color Objection—His Resignation—Richard Allen Accepts—William Paul Quinn—First Camp-meeting—First Church Paper—Rev. Charles Avery <ref targOrder="U" target="p100">100-108</ref></item>
          <pb id="p9" n="9"/>
          <item>CHAPTER XI. FIRST YEAR IN THE EPISCOPACY.
<lb/>
Arrival at New York—Opening Sermon—Previous General Conference—Election to the Bishopric—General Conference—First Bishops' Council—New England Conference—Gouldtown <ref targOrder="U" target="p109">109-110</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XII. IN THE WEST, SOUTH-WEST, AND CANADA.
<lb/>
Visit to Bishop Quinn's Diocese—Second Marriage—Change of Home—Visit to Toronto—Father Smith's Early Work—Church Trouble in St. Louis—Model Sunday-school—Union Seminary <ref targOrder="U" target="p120">120-125</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XIII. TRAVELS IN THE WEST.
<lb/>
A Second Visit to Chicago—A Talented. Lady and Editress—A Brave and Independent Woman—Bishop Lee's <hi rend="italics">Bon Mot</hi>—Arrested—Judge's Decision—State of the Church—New Orleans—Morris Brown Chapel—General Conference of 1856 <ref targOrder="U" target="p126">126-134</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XIV. SIX YEARS' LABORS.
<lb/>
The A. M. E. Church in Canada Announced Extinct—A Career of Seventeen Years—The Convention—A New Church—A New Name—Bishop Nazrey—The Field in Central America—Western Conferences—Frederick Douglass at Wilberforce <ref targOrder="U" target="p135">135-140</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XV. FROM 1860 TO 1863.
<lb/>
General Conference of 1860—First Bishops' Address—Encouraging State of the Church—Bishop Nazrey's Position—Frederick Douglass's Home—Interview with President Lincoln—Emancipation in the District of Columbia <ref targOrder="U" target="p141">141-148</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XVI. AT WILBERFORCE UNIVERSITY.
<lb/>
Purchase of Wilberforce University—First Payment—Re-opening the School—A Building in Ashes—St. John's and St. Paul's in Nashville, Tenn.—Colored Infantry Troops—Andrew Johnson's Offer—The “Hermitage”—Gen. Jackson's Tomb <ref targOrder="U" target="p149">149-157</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XVII. GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1864.
<lb/>
Election of Bishops—Bishop Nazrey's Case Settled—Zion A. M. E. and A. M. E. Churches—Our First Missionaries to the South—Major M. R. Delaney—Organization of South Carolina Conference—Wesley's First Mission-field—Whitefield a Slave-holder <ref targOrder="U" target="p153">153-165</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XVIII. FIRST VOYAGE TO EUROPE.
<lb/>
National Freedmen's Aid Commission—Expected Result of Withdrawal of Troops—Our Semi-centenary—A Call upon Wm. Lloyd Garrison—On Board the “Cuba”—The Shores of England.<ref targOrder="U" target="p166">166-172</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XIX. IN ENGLAND.
<lb/>
First Church Service in England—Service at St. Paul's Cathedral—A Glimpse of the Queen—My First Five-pound Note—Westminster Abbey—The Statue of Wilberforce—The Original Protection Society—The British Museum <ref targOrder="U" target="p173">173-181</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XX. ENGLAND AND THE CONTINENT.
<lb/>
Opposition to Ritualistic Doctrines and Practices—The Legal Hundred—Graves of Wesley, Clarke, Benson, Watson—Dean Stanley—At a Breakfast in Honor of William Lloyd Garrison—Off for Amsterdam—In Paris at the Anti-slavery Conference <ref targOrder="U" target="p182">182-195</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXI. PARIS—RETURN TO AMERICA.
<lb/>
Once More in Paris—Meeting Minister Salomon—One Result of the Franco-Prussian War—In New York—Interview with Secretary Whipple—General Conference of 1868—The Lay Element in the General Conference—Kentucky Conference <ref targOrder="U" target="p196">196-208</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXII: LABORS IN BISHOPRIC AND PRESIDENCY.
<lb/>
The General Conference of 1872—Wearing of Robes—Arguments Pro and Con—Important Questions—Controversion of the
<pb id="p10" n="10"/>
“Gillianictic” Theory—Death of Bishop Quinn—Missionary Reunion in Cincinnati—Another General Conference <ref targOrder="U" target="p209">209-219</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXIII. EDUCATION IN THE A. M. E. CHURCH.
<lb/>
English and American Methodism—African Methodism—First Secretary of the Baltimore Conference—The First Voice on Education—First Educational Convention—Rev. Daniel Coker—Wilberforce University—Arguments before Congressmen <ref targOrder="U" target="p220">220-232</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXIV. MUSIC AND LITERATURE IN THE CHURCH.
<lb/>
Choral Singing in Bethel, Philadelphia—Bereans and African Methodists—Instrumental Music—Circumstances of Its Introduction—Literature of the A. M. E. Church—The <hi rend="italics">A. M. E. Review—The Sunday-school Review</hi>—History of A. M. E. Church.<ref targOrder="U" target="p233">233-241</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXV. A VISIT TO BOSTON AND VICINITY.
<lb/>
Organizing Literary Societies—In My Old Field—Missionaries to Hayti—Departure—Egypt's Grand History—Grave of Sumner—Duty of Colored Americans—The Millions Now <ref targOrder="U" target="p242">242-247</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXVI. IN THE EAST—PRAYING BANDS.
<lb/>
A Visit to Princeton—Up the Catskills—Rip Van Winkle—How Bibles Are Made—Moody and Sankey—Board of Missions—First Responsive Reading in Old Bethel, Philadelphia—Bush-meeting—The “Ring”—Extravagances of Worship <ref targOrder="U" target="p248">248-257</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXVII. GENERAL CONFERENCE OF 1880.
<lb/>
Another Effort for Our University—The Sixteenth General Conference—First Delegates from the Wesleyan Methodist Church—British M. E. Church—Disposition for Union—The Word “African” Delegates to Ecumenical Conference—Extravagant Legislation—Westward <ref targOrder="U" target="p258">258-264</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXVIII. SECOND TRIP TO EUROPE.
<lb/>
Departure for London—Liverpool—London—Dr. Frederick Jobson—Canterbury—Paris—The Monastery of Fountains—Mr. Gladstone—Sail Down the Clyde—View of a Salvation Army <ref targOrder="U" target="p265">265-276</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXIX. ECUMENICAL CONFERENCE—TRICENNIAL.
<lb/>
Breakfast at Exeter Hall—The Field in India—Speakers—Ecumenical Conference—Bishop Simpson Preaches the Inaugural Sermon—A Great Honor—Tidings of Garfield's Assassination—Thirtieth Anniversary of My Episcopacy <ref targOrder="U" target="p277">277-284</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXX. UNPLEASANT AND PLEASANT EXPERIENCES.
<lb/>
A Lawless Spirit—En Route to Fernandina—Put off the Train—Our Work on the Eastern Shore of Virginia—Evangelical Convention in Chicago—British Christians—First Children's Day—Register B. K. Bruce—Allen University <ref targOrder="U" target="p285">285-298</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXXI. VARIOUS INCIDENTS.
<lb/>
1884—A Quadrennial Sermon—Rev. C. S. Smith's Powerful Eloquence—Second Effect of the Sermon—The Bishops' Address—No New Bishops—An Incident of the Convention of 1816—The Union of the A. M. E. Church and B. M. E. Church <ref targOrder="U" target="p209">209-310</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXXII. IN THE SOUTH AND CANADA.
<lb/>
Death of Bishop Dickerson—The African Mission—Jacksonville, Fla.—Curious Natural Structure—In Canada—Grave of Mrs. Hiram Wilson—Interesting Account from Africa—Southward.<ref targOrder="U" target="p311">311-321</ref></item>
          <item>CHAPTER XXXIII. THE END.
<lb/>
Dawn of 1886—Sick unto Death—My Seventy-fifth Birthday—Dedication of the Metropolitan Church in Washington, D. C.—General Conference of 1888—Scheming and Intriguing—Conveniences—New Bishops Elected—Memorial Services—Final Reflections <ref targOrder="U" target="p322">322-335</ref></item>
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    <body>
      <div1 type="section">
        <pb id="p11" n="11"/>
        <head>Recollections of Seventy Years,</head>
        <div2 type="chapter">
          <head>Chapter I. <lb/> PARENTAGE AND ANCESTRY.</head>
          <p>I WAS born of free parents in the city of Charleston, S. C., on the 24th of February, 1811, in <sic corr="what">whatw</sic> as then known as Swinton Lane, now called Princess Street. My parents were London and Martha Payne. I remember that my father was a man of brown complexion, of slender frame, and about five feet eight inches high. He was an earnest Christian and a class-leader, having two classes under him—what used to be called the Seekers' Class and the Members' Class. He was a faithful observer of family worship; and often his morning prayers and hymns aroused me, breaking my infant sleep and slumbers. He taught me the alphabet and my monosyllables, and I remember that once he whipped me for neglecting my lessons. After the war of 1812 the city of Charleston was illuminated, and, in order that I might have a clear view of every object, he carried me through the streets with my feet straddling over his shoulders.</p>
          <p>It is said that he was born of free parents in the State of Virginia, but, when a mere lad, was decoyed on board a ship with cakes and amused in the cabin until the vessel was out at sea. He was taken into
<pb id="p12" n="12"/>
the port of Charleston, and sold as a slave to a house and sign painter. In this condition he lived until he reached manhood, when he purchased his freedom for one thousand dollars.</p>
          <p>His father, I am informed, was one of six brothers who served in the Revolution. Their father was an Englishman by the name of Paine. In the early immigration from England to Massachusetts two of the brothers arrived on the shores of New England. One remained in Massachusetts; the other concluded to go and join the colonists at Jamestown, Va. But before parting they agreed to change the letter “i” to “y” in the name of the one who had resolved to identify his fate with that of the Virginia colonists, in order that his descendants might be identified. Thus our family name became Payne.</p>
          <p>As far as memory serves me my mother was of light-brown complexion, of middle stature and delicate frame. She told me that her grandmother was of the tribe of Indians known in the early history of the Carolinas as the Catawba Indians. The husband of her grandmother was a black man named Alexander Goings, who was remarkable for great bodily strength and activity. My mother was a woman of amiable disposition, gentle manners, and fervent piety. Her death, which was triumphant, even glorious, was occasioned by consumption. Both parents were members of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and worshiped in Cumberland Street Church.</p>
          <p>I was about four and a half years old at the time of my father's death, and about nine and a half when my mother died. After the death of my father it was my mother's invariable custom to take her “little
<pb id="p13" n="13"/>
Daniel” by the hand and lead him to the class-meeting, seating him by her side. In this way I became early impressed with strong religious feelings. After her death my grandaunt, Mrs. Sarah Bordeaux, took charge of me. She did much toward stimulating me to attain unto a noble character, and to this day I feel the influence of her godly lessons and holy examples.</p>
        </div2>
        <div2 type="chapter">
          <pb id="p14" n="14"/>
          <head>Chapter II. <lb/> CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH.</head>
          <p>AS early as 1803 the Minors' Moralist Society was established in the city of Charleston by James Mitchell, Joseph Humphries, William Cooper, Carlos Huger, Thomas S. Bonneau, William Clark, and Richard Holloway—all free colored men. Its object was to educate orphan or indigent colored children, and also to provide for their necessary wants. It consisted of fifty members, who contributed five dollars each at first, and paid thereafter the monthly sum of twenty-five cents each. As many as six children were at one time receiving its care and attention. It continued in existence until 1847, when, from the decease of many useful members and other local causes, it ceased to exist; not, however, without having done much good which continues to manifest itself both in Church and State.</p>
          <p>The Hugers (pronounced Hugee) were descendants of the Huguenots. One of the Hugers was Minister to the court of Belgium. During his ministry he heard one of the French missionaries give his experiences in heathen lands. He translated the story and sent it to the Charleston papers. The reading of this aroused in me a great desire to learn the French language—my first ambition to know a foreign tongue.</p>
          <pb id="p15" n="15"/>
          <p>I was put into this Society's school for two years, when I was about eight years old; after which I was instructed by Mr. Thomas S. Bonneau, the most popular school-master in the city, for about three years. There I learned to spell, read, and write, and “cipher” as far as the “Rule of Three.” The chief books used for reading were monographs of the histories of Greece, Rome, and England; while the “Columbian Orator” was the book used for training in the art of speaking. When about twelve years of age I was hired out to a shoe-merchant, with whom I did not stay long. When nearly thirteen years old I was put to the carpenter's trade with my brother-in-law, James Holloway, the eldest son of Mr. Richard Holloway. I spent four and a half years with him. I then spent nine months at the tailor's trade.</p>
          <p>It was during the time that I was in the carpenter's shop that I came into possession of the first number of what was then known as the “Self-interpreting Bible,” by Rev. John Brown, of Haddington, Scotland. It was prefaced with a biographical sketch of the great man. The reading of this became the turning-point of my life; for, after reading it, I came to the conclusion to try and be what he was. I said to myself: “If Brown learned Latin, Greek, and Hebrew without a living teacher, why can't I?” This question was answered by: “I'll try.” Up to that hour I had never seen a book in Latin, Greek, or Hebrew; but I resolved as soon as I could get them to study them. Meanwhile, I read every book within my reach—among which was the “Scottish Chiefs.” Wallace and Bruce became my ideal great men. Having heard of Hayti and the Haytiens, I desired to become
<pb id="p16" n="16"/>
a soldier and go to Hayti, which resolution was fixed until changed by a dream in which I was a soldier on the battle-field encountering a tremendous foe. The slaughter was great; the cries of the wounded and dying; the mangled corpses, their hideous looks; the prancing, leaping, and neighing of wounded horses—all conspired to make such a terrible impression upon me of the horrors of war that I foreswore the soldier's life; and again Rev. John Brown, of Haddington, became my ideal man.</p>
          <p>I was the child of many prayers. My father dedicated me to the service of God before I was born, declaring that if the Lord would give him a son that son should be consecrated to him, and named after the Prophet Daniel. After my birth I was taken to the house of God, and there again consecrated to his service in the holy ordinance of baptism. From the sanctuary my parents returned home with me, and on bended knees, my pious father holding me in his arms, again dedicated me to the service of the Lord.</p>
          <p>Many a time, when the people of God were telling their experience in the divine life, in the class-meeting, I have felt the Spirit of God moving my childish heart. When I was only eight years old such was the effect of a sermon upon my young heart that I went home crying through the streets, and sought the garden and prayed. After my mother's death I was often led by the Spirit to go to the garret to bend the knee and look up into heaven, beseeching the Lord to make me a good boy. Such devotional feelings were always deepened by the contemplation of a moon-lit sky.</p>
          <p>In my fifteenth year these impressions were so great that I could no longer cast them off amid my
<pb id="p17" n="17"/>
youthful sports, as in former times. I therefore went to the authorities of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and was examined. I was taken into the Society on probation, and assigned to the class of Mr. Samuel Weston, who from that time became the chief religious guide of my youth.</p>
          <p>My conversion took place in my eighteenth year. Religion among the members of the Cumberland Street Church had waxed very cold, and Brother Holloway called a special meeting of all the classes, and inquired what might be done for the revival of God's work. It was decided to meet every Sunday between the morning and evening service in Mr. Bonneau's school-room to pray for a revival. In this place we met Sunday after Sunday. God heard our songs of praise, our prayers of faith, poured out his awakening and converting power upon his waiting children, and many souls were converted and sanctified by it. Of this number I was one. Here I too gave him my <hi rend="italics">whole heart,</hi> and instantly felt that peace which passeth all understanding and that joy which is unspeakable and full of glory. Several weeks after this event, between twelve and one o'clock one day, I was in my humble chamber, pouring out my prayers into the listening ears of the Saviour, when I felt as if the hands of a man were pressing my two shoulders and a voice speaking within my soul saying: <hi rend="italics">“I have set thee apart to educate thyself in order that thou mayest be an educator to thy people.”</hi> The impression was <hi rend="italics">irresistible</hi> and <hi rend="italics">divine;</hi> it gave a new direction to my thoughts and efforts. Then again did the example of the illustrious John Brown, of Haddington, set itself before me.</p>
          <pb id="p18" n="18"/>
          <p>After this circumstances I resolved to devote every moment of leisure to the study of books, and every cent to the purchase of them. I raised money by making tables, benches, clothes-horses, and “corset-bones,” which I sold on Saturday night in the public market. During my apprenticeship I would eat my meals in a few minutes and spend the remainder of the hour allowed me at breakfast and dinner in reading. After the day's work was done I perused my books till nearly twelve o'clock; and then, keeping a tinder-box, flint, steel, and candle at my bedside, I would awake at four, strike a light, and study till six, when my daily labors began. Thus I went on reading book after book, drawing pictures with crayon, and now and then composing verses. In my nineteenth year I forsook the carpenter's trade for the life of an educator.</p>
        </div2>
        <div2 type="chapter">
          <pb id="p19" n="19"/>
          <head>Chapter III. <lb/> THE SCHOOL-MASTER IN THE DARK SOUTH.</head>
          <p>MY first school was opened in 1829 in a house on Tradd Street occupied by one Cæsar Wright. It consisted of his three children, for each of whom he paid me fifty cents a month. I also taught three adult slaves at night, at the same price, thus making my monthly income from teaching only three dollars. This was not sufficient to feed me, but a slave-woman, Mrs. Eleanor Parker, supplied many of my wants. I was happy in my humble employment, but at the end of the year I was so discouraged at the financial result, and by the remarks expressed by envious persons, that I decided to seek some other employment which would yield better pay.</p>
          <p>At this juncture a wealthy slave-holder arrived in Charleston, <hi rend="italics">en route</hi> to the West Indies for his health. Knowing that British law emancipated every slave that put his foot on British soil, he desired to obtain the services of a free young man of color sufficiently intelligent to do his out-of-door business. I was commended to him, and called upon him at the Planters' Hotel. Among the inducements he offered he said: “If you will go with me, the knowledge that you will acquire of men and things will be of far more value to you than the wages I will pay you. Do you know
<pb id="p20" n="20"/>
what makes the difference between the master and the slave? <hi rend="italics">Nothing but superior knowledge.</hi>”</p>
          <p>This statement was fatal to his desire to obtain my services, for I instantly said to myself: “If it is true that there is nothing but superior knowledge between the master and the slave, I will not go with you, but will rather go and obtain that knowledge which constitutes the master.” As I politely took my leave these words passed through my mind:
<q type="verse" direct="unspecified"><lg type="verse"><l>He that flies his Saviour's cross </l><l>Shall meet his Maker's frown.</l></lg></q>
Then these reflections followed. “In abandoning the school-room am I not fleeing from the cross which the Saviour has imposed upon me? Is not the abandonment of the teacher's work in my case a sin?” The answer was easily found, and I resolved to reopen my school and to inform my patrons to that effect.</p>
          <p>On the first of the year 1830 I re-opened my school, which continued to increase in numbers until the room became too small, and I was constrained to procure a more commodious place. This in turn became too small, and one was built for me on Anson Street, by Mr. Robert Howard, in the rear of his yard. This house is still standing (1886). Here I continued to teach until April, 1835.</p>
          <p>During the three years of my attendance at the school of Mr. Thomas S. Bonneau I learned how to read, write, and spell; also arithmetic as far as the “Rule of Three.” Spelling was a delightful exercise of my boyhood. In this I excelled. Seldom did I lose my place at the head of my class, and he who won it did not occupy it long. History was my great
<pb id="p21" n="21"/>
delight. Of geography and map-drawing, English grammar and composition I knew nothing, because they were not taught in any of the schools for colored children. I therefore felt the need of knowledge in these directions; but how was I to obtain it?</p>
          <p>I had a geography, but had never seen an atlas, and, what was more, I knew not how or where to get one. Fortunately for me, one day as I was sitting on the piazza endeavoring to learn some lesson, a woman entered the gate and approached me with a book in her hand. Said she: “Don't you want to buy this book?” Taking it, I opened it, and to my great joy I beheld the colored maps of an atlas—the very thing I needed. Said I: “What will you take for it?” The woman had found it on the street, and replied: “Whatever you choose to give.” All that I could command at the time was a York shilling (twelve and one-half cents in silver coin), so I gave it to her, and rejoiced over my prize. Immediately I went to work with my geography and atlas, and in about six months was able to construct maps on the Mercator's and globular projection. After I had acquired this ability I introduced geography and map-drawing into my school. At the same time with geography I studied and mastered English grammar. I began with “Murray's Primary Grammar,” and committed the entire book to memory, but did not understand it; so I reviewed it. Then light sprung up; still I felt like one in a dungeon who beheld a glimmer of light at a distance, and with steady but cautious footsteps moved toward it, inspired by the hope that I would soon find its source and come out into the full blaze of animated
<pb id="p22" n="22"/>
day. I then made a second review of it, and felt conscious of my power to teach it. I therefore added that to my curriculum.</p>
          <p>Having now the groundwork, I began to build the superstructure. I commenced with “Playfair's Euclid,” and proceeded as far as the first five books. The next thing which arrested my attention was botany. The author and her specimens enchanted me; my progress was rapid, and the study became to me a source of great happiness and an instrument of great usefulness. Descriptive chemistry, natural philosophy, and descriptive astronomy followed in rapid succession.</p>
          <p>“Burret's Geography of the Heavens” was my text-book in the last-named science. Stimulated by this interesting guide, I watched the total eclipse of 1832 from its commencement to its completion with my <hi rend="italics">naked eye;</hi> but I paid dear for my rash experiment. The immediate result was a partial loss of sight. No book could be read for about three weeks. Whenever I opened a book the pages had the appearance of <hi rend="italics">black sheets.</hi> From this injury I have never fully recovered. Up to that time my eyes were like those of the eagle; ever since they have been growing weaker and weaker.</p>
          <p>Then, on a Thursday morning, I bought a Greek grammar, a lexicon, and a Greek Testament. On the same day I mastered the Greek alphabet; on Friday I learned to write them; on Saturday morning I translated the first chapter of Matthew's Gospel from Greek into English. My very soul rejoiced and exulted in this glorious triumph. Next came the Latin and the French. Meanwhile I was pushing my studies in
<pb id="p23" n="23"/>
drawing and coloring till I was able to produce a respectable flower, fruit, or animal on paper and on velvet.</p>
          <p>My researches in botany gave me a relish for zoology; but as I could never get hold of any work on this science I had to <hi rend="italics">make books</hi> for myself. This I did by killing such insects, toads, snakes, young alligators, fishes, and young sharks as I could catch. I then cleaned and stuffed those that I could, and hung them upon the walls of my school-room. The following fact will give the index of my methods. I bought a live alligator, made one of my pupils provoke him to bite, and whenever he opened his mouth I discharged a load of shot from a small pistol down his throat. As soon as he was stunned I threw him on his back, cut his throat, ripped open his chest, hung him up and studied his viscera till they ceased to move. The flesh of all that I killed I cooked and tasted. I excepted nothing but the toad and snake. My detestation for these was too intense to allow me to put their flesh into my mouth.</p>
          <p>My enthusiasm was the inspiration of my pupils. I used to take my first class of boys into the woods every Saturday in search of insects, reptiles, and plants, and at the end of five years I had accumulated some fine specimens of each of these. I had also taken a fatherless boy to educate gratuitously. This lad's sister one day found a large caterpillar on an elderberry-tree. This worm she sent to me. It was the length and thickness of a large laboring-man's middle finger. Its color was that of gold blended with azure. It had four rows of horns running the whole length of its body; these horns were made up of
<pb id="p24" n="24"/>
golden and ebony-like points; its head was also encircled with a crown of these horns.</p>
          <p>Not being able to determine the species or genus of this worm, I took it to Mrs. Ferguson, the sister of Judge Colcox who was unable to give me any information in regard to it; but she advised me to take it to Dr. Bachman, who was then the most distinguished naturalist in South Carolina. I little knew what that visit was to bring about ultimately.</p>
          <p>The Doctor received me kindly, and gave its classification. He also instructed me in its nature and habits, and how to carry it through its different stages of existence. This, however, I preferred him to do, allowing me at the same time to visit his studio and observe the transformations. This request was kindly complied with by the learned divine and naturalist. On my second visit he took me into his garden and showed me his fine collections of flowers. He also exhibited to me his herbarium and his valuable collection of insects from different parts of the world. On my last visit he took me into his parlor and introduced me to his wife and daughters as “the young philosopher.” There I sat and conversed with his family as freely as though all were of the same color and equal rank; and by my request his daughter skillfully performed several pieces upon the piano. A remark of his at that visit has occurred to me many times through life. There was upon the center-table, protected by a large glass globe, an artificial tree bearing a collection of beautifully-mounted birds. My attention was drawn to them, and I expressed myself to the effect that he had about him every thing to make his home pleasant. His reply was substantially
<pb id="p25" n="25"/>
this: “Yes; I feel it my duty to throw around my home every possible attraction for my daughters, so that they may never have occasion to seek elsewhere for forbidden pleasures.”</p>
          <p>My school increased in popularity, and became the most popular of five which then existed. It numbered about sixty children from most of the leading families of Charleston. But I was not without enemies who endeavored to arrest the progress of my school and destroy my usefulness by such remarks as these: “He is an impostor.” “Who ever heard of any one learning such things—such things as he teaches—but men trained in a college.” “He must deal with the devil.”</p>
          <p>Such imputations and slanders availed nothing. They seemed to render me more popular, and at last two of the other school-masters came to me to be taught such sciences as they knew not. It was a happiness for me to assist them, which I did, directing them to the authors and the methods which I had employed. It was also one of my methods in order to interest my pupils to erect several gymnastic instruments, that they might develop their muscular systems and find amusement to break the monotony of the school-room; but in all their sports I led them in person. The children and youths were developing rapidly in their studies, but the hour of the Prince of Darkness came upon the school in the following way:</p>
          <p>In the prosecution of my studies in zoology I desired to obtain a highland moccasin, which was then considered a species of rattlesnake, and whose bite was deadly. Therefore I engaged the services of a slave of lawyer Lionel Kennedy, who was at that time
<pb id="p26" n="26"/>
an alderman of the city of Charleston. The plantation of this gentleman was about one mile distant from the city. On the appointed Saturday I dispatched three of my advanced class (John Lee, Robert Wishan, and Michael Eggart) with a large glass bottle, in order that they might bring me the viper alive. On their arrival at the plantation they found Lawyer Kennedy and his son, Dr. Kennedy, overlooking the work of the slaves. They knew me and knew the boys' parents. Calling the lads to them, they demanded the reason of their appearance on the plantation. A direct answer was given. They then inquired after my motives for buying this serpent from their slaves; to which a direct answer was also given. Then they asked the lads to tell them what were the different things taught them, and they also examined them in their studies. The boys answered every question put to them except one. Then said the young doctor: “Why, pa, Payne is playing hell in Charleston.” This occurred about the middle of the summer of 1834.</p>
        </div2>
        <div2 type="chapter">
          <pb id="p27" n="27"/>
          <head>Chapter IV. <lb/> EXERCISE OF THE SLAVE-HOLDING POWER.</head>
          <p>SOON after the opening of the General Assembly of South Carolina in December, 1834, a bill was drawn up by <hi rend="italics">two lawyers from Charleston,</hi> it was said, who were members of the Legislature. It was fully discussed, passed both houses, and became a law to be enforced April 1, 1835. The following is the bill:</p>
          <q type="text" direct="unspecified">
            <text>
              <body>
                <div1 type="text">
                  <head>No. 2639. AN ACT TO AMEND THE LAW RELATING TO SLAVES AND FREE PERSONS OF COLOR.</head>
                  <p>Be it enacted by the honorable, the Senate and House of Representatives, now met and sitting in General Assembly, and by the authority of the same: If any person shall hereafter teach any slave to read or write, or cause, or procure any slave to read or write, such person, if a free white person, upon conviction thereof shall for each and every offense against this Act be fined not exceeding one hundred dollars and imprisoned not more than six months; or, if a free person of color, shall be whipped not exceeding fifty lashes and fined not exceeding fifty dollars, at the discretion of the court of magistrates and freeholders before which such person of color is tried; and if a slave, to be whipped at the discretion of the court, not exceeding fifty lashes: the informer to be entitled to one-half of the fine, and to be a competent witness. And if any free person of color or slave shall keep any school or other place of instruction for teaching any slave or free person of color to read or write, such free person of color or slave shall be liable to the same fine, imprisonment, and corporal punishment as are by this Act imposed and inflicted
<pb id="p28" n="28"/>
upon free persons of color and slaves for teaching slaves to read or write.</p>
                </div1>
              </body>
            </text>
          </q>
          <p>There were five other sections attached to this law, but this alone affected the teacher and the schoolhouse.</p>
          <p>The immediate effects of this Act on my mind were terrible. Sleep fled from my eyes, and therefore I dreaded the night. When it came I prayed for sleep, but no answer from nature was given. It was then I felt the force of those lines of Young:</p>
          <lg type="poem">
            <l>Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep!</l>
            <l>He, like the world, his ready visit pays,</l>
            <l>Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes;</l>
            <l>Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe,</l>
            <l>And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.</l>
          </lg>
          <p>Sometimes it seemed as though some wild beast had plunged his fangs into my heart, and was squeezing out its life-blood. Then I began to question the existence of God, and to say: “If he does exist, is he just? If so, why does he suffer one race to oppress and enslave another, to rob them by unrighteous enactments of rights, which they hold most dear and sacred?” Sometimes I wished for the law-makers what Nero wished—“that the Romans had but one neck.” I would be the man to sever the head from its shoulders. Again said I: “Is there no God?” But then there came into my mind those solemn words: “With God one day is as a thousand years and a thousand years as one day. Trust in him, and he will bring slavery and all its outrages to an end.” These words from the spirit world acted on my troubled soul like water on a burning fire, and my aching heart was soothed and relieved from its burden of woes. Then
<pb id="p29" n="29"/>
I seized my pen and began to write the following poem, which I called</p>
          <lg type="poem">
            <head>THE MOURNFUL LUTE, OR THE PRECEPTOR'S FAREWELL.</head>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Father and mother, authors of my birth,</l>
              <l>Ye dwell in bliss; your son on sinful earth.</l>
              <l>Hail, happy pair, who praise the Lamb above!</l>
              <l>I strive to share your cup of perfect love.</l>
              <l>Father, ere yet I knew thy manly form,</l>
              <l>The ills of life were o'er, and hushed the storm;</l>
              <l>Thy God called thee from earth to dwell on high;</l>
              <l>In peace thou art, beyond the swelling sky.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>O sainted parents, who my life has kept,</l>
              <l>Preserved my sinful soul each night I slept;</l>
              <l>Since God transported ye to realms of light,</l>
              <l>And bade my youth in virtue take delight!</l>
              <l>'Twas God. 'Tis he who still preserves my soul,</l>
              <l>When foes unite, or waves of trouble roll,</l>
              <l>Cared for my childhood, blessed my striving youth;</l>
              <l>Me snatched from vice and led in paths of truth.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Delusive vice has spread her fictious charms,</l>
              <l>Threw out her purse, and wooed me to her arms.</l>
              <l>I gazed, I trembled, grasped the motley toys;</l>
              <l>But keen remorse sprung from her guilty joys!</l>
              <l>My joyful sire, I blush to own my sin,</l>
              <l>But can I hide when God surveys within?</l>
              <l>Within my soul the Great Jehovah spies,</l>
              <l>Nor word nor thought escapes his piercing eyes.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>O sainted mother, high in glory thou,</l>
              <l>If God permits, behold thy Daniel now!</l>
              <l>Good Lord, give strength; my feeble mind sustain,</l>
              <l>Nor let my sighs ascend to thee in vain.</l>
              <l>Servants of God, extol the King of kings;</l>
              <l>Let higher notes flow from your trembling strings.</l>
              <l>He saves your son, puts all his foes to flight—</l>
              <l>His human foes, or fiends of deepest night.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>When ignorance my mind in fetters bound,</l>
              <l>He smote the fiend; then beams of light surround.</l>
              <pb id="p30" n="30"/>
              <l>Broad beams of light described the way of truth,</l>
              <l>And bade me lead therein benighted youth.</l>
              <l>O here's my bliss, that I the way have shown</l>
              <l>To lovely youths which was before unknown;</l>
              <l>From scientific shrines plucked golden fire,</l>
              <l>And thrilled with notes divine the sacred lyre.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Did I conceive five rolling years ago,</l>
              <l>The luscious fruits which science can bestow?</l>
              <l>O bend in praise devout before his throne!</l>
              <l>'Twas God that gave the boon, and God alone.</l>
              <l>My sire, when on the bed of death you lay,</l>
              <l>Did thy blest soul in fervent accents pray</l>
              <l>That I should be what now I feel I am—</l>
              <l>Favored of God, preserved from every harm?</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Thou didst, my sire; thrice blessed be thy name;</l>
              <l>Come, wisdom, clothe me in thy sacred flame;</l>
              <l>Ye scientific truths, my mind control;</l>
              <l>And thou, fair virtue, guide my erring soul.</l>
              <l>What's my ambition? what my great desire?</l>
              <l>The youthful mind with knowledge to inspire.</l>
              <l>Not worlds on worlds for this would I exchange,</l>
              <l>Though cruel laws my noble scheme derange.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Soon from the land where first I drew my breath</l>
              <l>I go a wanderer on the flying earth!</l>
              <l>Where shall I go? O Thou my fortune guide,</l>
              <l>Who led good Abram with his modest bride.</l>
              <l>Him didst thou lead across the eastern wild,</l>
              <l>Direct his steps and on his fortune smiled;</l>
              <l>In foreign climes spread wide his fruitful boughs,</l>
              <l>Made strong his bands and scattered all his foes.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Dost thou not roll the thunder 'cross the sky?</l>
              <l>Arouse the storm, and bid the lightnings fly?</l>
              <l>Bid teeming earth produce her pulpy grains,</l>
              <l>By genial sunbeams or the fruitful rains?</l>
              <l>Stop, falling tears; God lights the cheerful day,</l>
              <l>Gives gloomy night, and leads the darksome way.</l>
              <l>Frown, fortune, frown; my struggling breast shall bear</l>
              <l>Thy worthless blows, and pointless arrows dare.</l>
            </lg>
            <pb id="p31" n="31"/>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>O I had thought the moral plants would grow,</l>
              <l>From all the care my talents can bestow,</l>
              <l>Like trees of virtue lift their blooming heads</l>
              <l>Where snowy clouds suspend their liquid beds!</l>
              <l>Ye lads, whom I have taught with sacred zeal,</l>
              <l>For your hard fate I pangs of sorrow feel.</l>
              <l>O who shall now your rising talents guide,</l>
              <l>Where virtues reign and sacred truths preside?</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Ye modest virgins, I have taught your minds</l>
              <l>To fly from earth where sinful pleasure blinds,</l>
              <l>The rugged hill of science to ascend,</l>
              <l>Where sacred flames with human fires blend.</l>
              <l>Who now shall call your willing, joyful feet</l>
              <l>In “wisdom's institute” to learn and meet</l>
              <l>Sweet piety and science, gods of light</l>
              <l>Whose precepts lead your erring minds aright?</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Who shall for you Minerva's field explore,</l>
              <l>Spread open wide fair nature's roseate door?</l>
              <l>O who shall help your op'ning wings to fly</l>
              <l>Where virtue sits resplendent in the sky?</l>
              <l>O God of mercy! whither shall I go?</l>
              <l>Where turn my steps—to weal, or else to woe?</l>
              <l>Speak. I the sacred mandate wait to hear,</l>
              <l>Nor shall I ocean dread nor tempest fear.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Eternal Goodness, from thy shining seat,</l>
              <l>Let mercy fly to guide my wandering feet.</l>
              <l>On distant lands I will thy servant be,</l>
              <l>To turn from vice the youthful mind to thee.</l>
              <l>Just two revolving moons shall light the shores</l>
              <l>When Carolina's laws shall shut the doors</l>
              <l>Of this fine room, where science holds his reign,</l>
              <l>The humble tutor, hated Daniel Payne.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>O that my arms could reach yon burning sun,</l>
              <l>And stop his motion till my work be done!</l>
              <l>With these small fingers catch the flying moon—</l>
              <l>Night should not triumph o'er the dazzling noon.</l>
              <l>April should ne'er appear; but I would teach</l>
              <l>Each yielding pupil till their minds could reach</l>
              <pb id="p32" n="32"/>
              <l>The climax of proud science, and their plumes</l>
              <l>Could soar where good John Locke or Newton blooms</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Ye blooming plants of moral culture fine,</l>
              <l>The dews that wet ye be those dews divine.</l>
              <l>The faithful gard'ner! Ah who shall he be?</l>
              <l>The Father, Spirit, Son—the sacred three!</l>
              <l>Before you nature spreads her blooming fields;</l>
              <l>On verdant breast her fragrant produce yields.</l>
              <l>Go seek her lilies, tulips, roseate sweets</l>
              <l>When morning light her swelling bosom greets.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Each minute insect and each flying bird,</l>
              <l>Each walking beast, whose tuneless notes are heard,</l>
              <l>The scaly fish that lives not on the shore,</l>
              <l>And man himself, the mighty being explore.</l>
              <l>Aspiring mounts and hills, descending dales,</l>
              <l>The floating air, when peace or storm prevails;</l>
              <l>Oceans and seas, streams and expanding lakes,</l>
              <l>When night leaps in, or sweet aurora wakes.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>The flying rays of light, the spangled sky,</l>
              <l>On contemplation's wing mount ye on high.</l>
              <l>Bright cherubim and flaming seraphim,</l>
              <l>All things upon wide earth, th' eternal Him,</l>
              <l>Children, all, all are yours! Search, find them out.</l>
              <l>Knowledge, where are thy bounds? In depths without.</l>
              <l>The heavens, within the heavens, nor time,</l>
              <l>Nor vast eternity, the gods sublime,</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Can in their sweeping compass e'er embrace!</l>
              <l>He reigns o'er angels, guides the human race.</l>
              <l>Seek not the joys which sinful earth can give;</l>
              <l>They sparkle, perish, for a moment live.</l>
              <l>Sweet innocents, behold each moving lip!</l>
              <l>From cups of wisdom sacred sweets they sip.</l>
              <l>What demon snatches from your hands those books,</l>
              <l>And blasts your talents with his withering looks?</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>I weep. Flow, then, ye sympathetic tears!</l>
              <l>Each bitter stream the stamp of sorrow bears.</l>
              <l>O who those smiling infant cheeks can see</l>
              <l>Destined to night, and not lament with me?</l>
              <pb id="p33" n="33"/>
              <l>Could tears of blood revoke the fierce decree,</l>
              <l>The statesmen touch and make my pupils free,</l>
              <l>I at their feet the crimson tide would pour</l>
              <l>Till potent justice swayed the senate floor.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>As when a deer does in the pasture graze,</l>
              <l>The lion roars—she's filled with wild amaze,</l>
              <l>Knows strength unequal for the dreadful fight,</l>
              <l>And seeks sweet safety in her rapid flight—</l>
              <l>So Payne prepares to leave his native home,</l>
              <l>With pigmy purse on distant shores to roam.</l>
              <l>Lo! in the skies my boundless store-house is!</l>
              <l>I go reclining on God's promises.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Pupils, attend my last departing sounds;</l>
              <l>Ye are my hopes, and ye my mental crowns,</l>
              <l>My monuments of intellectual might,</l>
              <l>My robes of honor and my armor bright.</l>
              <l>Like Solomon, entreat the throne of God;</l>
              <l>Light shall descend in lucid columns broad,</l>
              <l>And all that man has learned or man can know</l>
              <l>In streams prolific shall your minds o'erflow.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Hate sin; love God; religion be your prize;</l>
              <l>Her laws obeyed will surely make you wise,</l>
              <l>Secure you from the ruin of the vain,</l>
              <l>And save your souls from everlasting pain.</l>
              <l>O fare you well for whom my bosom glows</l>
              <l>With ardent love, which Christ my Saviour knows!</l>
              <l>`Twas for your good I labored night and day;</l>
              <l>For you I wept, and now for you I pray.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Farewell! farewell! ye children of my love;</l>
              <l>May joys abundant flow ye from above!</l>
              <l>May peace celestial crown your useful days,</l>
              <l>To bliss transported, sing eternal lays;</l>
              <l>For sacred wisdom give a golden world,</l>
              <l>And when foul vice his charming folds unfurl,</l>
              <l>O spurn the monster, though his crystal eyes</l>
              <l>Be like bright sunbeams streaming from the skies!</l>
              <l>And I! O whither shall your tutor fly?</l>
              <l>Guide thou my feet, great Sovereign of the sky.</l>
            </lg>
          </lg>
          <pb id="p34" n="34"/>
          <lg type="poem">
            <l>
              <hi rend="italics">A useful life by sacred wisdom crowned,</hi>
            </l>
            <l>
              <hi rend="italics">Is all I ask, let weal or woe abound!</hi>
            </l>
            <signed>Charleston, S. C., February 2, 1835.</signed>
          </lg>
          <p>The writing of this poem was the safety-valve which let out the superabundant grief that would otherwise have broken my heart and sent me headlong to an untimely grave. About this time I had a dream which to me at that time seemed prophetic. It was this: I dreamed that I was lifted up from the earth, and without wings fled toward the North. I was clad in my pink robe, which I always wore in the school-room. Upon reaching the North I was all the time flying south of the chain of lakes which separate the United States from Canada. To and fro along this line I was still flying in my teaching robes, till I awoke and found myself still in Charleston, but greatly comforted in the midst of my troubles.</p>
          <p>The effect of this dream was to settle my mind on the determination to seek a field of usefulness as a teacher in the free North, where I believed I could teach without let or hinderance. So I called upon Dr. William Capers, Dr. Benj. W. Palmer, Dr. John Bachman, Bishop Gadsen, and Rev. Kennedy, my pastor, all of whom I consulted. But chief of all, I sought the advice and counsel of my beloved class-leader, Mr. Samuel Weston, who is still living in Charleston, a venerable, intelligent, holy man—intelligent then beyond most men of his age and opportunities; venerable now on account of his great age, sanctity, and usefulness; then only a class-leader because <hi rend="italics">slavery decreed him to the condition of half man and half brute;</hi> now an elder in the itinerant ministry of the M. E. Church because freedom has recognized his genuine manhood and restored him to the normal
<pb id="p35" n="35"/>
<figure id="ill1" entity="payne35"><p>DR. BACHMAN.</p><p>(See page 24.)</p></figure>
position of a child of God (1881). I say him above all others I consulted, and he, with the others, approved my determination to seek a field of usefulness in the free regions of the North.</p>
          <p>From all but him I received letters of introduction to their Northern friends. From Dr. Capers<ref targOrder="U" id="ref1" n="1" rend="sc" target="note1">*</ref><note id="note1" n="1" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref1"><p>* Subsequently Bishop Capers, of the M. E. Church, South.</p></note> I received a general letter of introduction to Northern Christians; from my pastor I received one to the managers of the Book Concern in New York; from Dr. Palmer, one to a clergyman of the Congregational Church; from Dr. Bachman, letters to Lutheran clergymen in New York and Philadelphia; from Bishop Gadsen to clergymen of the Protestant Episcopal Church. I also received letters to Presbyterian clergymen.</p>
          <p>The last week of my school arrived. Examinations were held in order that the parents of the children might have an opportunity of witnessing their attainments in the sciences and arts then taught—which were the construction of maps and theorem painting on velvet. The only white persons who visited my school to witness the exercises were Dr. Benj. M. Palmer, his wife and two daughters; B. B. Thatcher, Esq., of Massachusetts; and a son of Bishop Dehon. These white friends were in deep sympathy with me, and greatly consoled me in the midst of my tribulation. The examinations were in orthography, orthoepy, reading, writing, arithmetic, and history; also in botany, descriptive astronomy, natural philosophy, and composition. The latter exercise was original.</p>
          <p>The school had been doing its work for a little more than five years. It was opened somewhere about the
<pb id="p36" n="36"/>
middle of 1829. It had grown from <hi rend="italics">three children</hi> at fifty cents apiece, to <hi rend="italics">to sixty children</hi> at from three dollars to six dollars per quarter; from a contemptible, little thing, kept in an obscure part of the city—obscure as far as the colored population was concerned—it had become the most popular school of color, because more of the higher English branches were taught in it than in any other school. In addition to this I had been giving private instruction to three ladies, the daughters of my venerable teacher, Mr. Thomas S. Bonneau. But the last month, the last week, the last day, and the last hour of this interesting school had come, and it closed as it had begun—with singing and prayer—on the last day of March, 1835.</p>
          <p>Among the friends who were pleased to testify to the usefulness of my school and to their sympathy I have selected three, whose testimonials are taken from my album in which they were written at that time, and which I present here. The first is from Dr. John Bachman, the naturalist and theologian of the Lutheran Church in South Carolina:</p>
          <q type="letter" direct="unspecified">
            <text>
              <body>
                <div1 type="letter">
                  <p><hi rend="italics">Daniel A. Payne:</hi> A mysterious providence has so ordered it that your usefulness in the profession you have chosen is at an end in your native city.</p>
                  <p>Yield submissively to the laws of the land; do your duty and trust in God, and all will most assuredly be overruled for your future good.</p>
                  <p>Carry with you this parting advice from one who entertains a favorable opinion of your acquirements and worth: Pursue knowledge wherever it is to be found. Like the air you breathe, it may be inhaled everywhere; like gold, it passes current among all classes. Perform all your duties faithfully. <hi rend="italics">God is on the side of virtue.</hi> Walk humbly. The proud man would conquer others; the Christian's ambition
<pb id="p37" n="37"/>
is to conquer himself, and he unbuckles his armor only for his shroud.</p>
                  <closer><signed>JOHN BACHMAN. </signed>
<dateline>Charleston S. C., April 12, 1835.</dateline></closer>
                </div1>
              </body>
            </text>
          </q>
          <p>The second is from the pen of Dr. Benj. Palmer.</p>
          <q direct="unspecified">
            <text>
              <body>
                <div1 type="letter">
                  <p><hi rend="italics">Daniel A. Payne:</hi> My best wishes attend you. My confidence is strong that your door of interesting usefulness in your native State is closed by a providence that orders all things well, only that a wider field elsewhere may afford scope for the exercise of your talents and the influences of your piety.</p>
                  <p>Bear on your heart wherever you go your colored brethren on whom the light of hope begins auspiciously to dawn. As further light shines on your own bewildered path, let its reflection illumine theirs. Among the variety of plans which may present themselves to your own mind, or be presented by others, remember, like the tender-hearted Paul, your “brethren, your kinsmen according to the flesh.” Let your future purposes and pursuits all bear favorably and strongly toward the accomplishment of the interesting, the divine assurance, “Ethiopia shall soon stretch out her hands to God.” May he who gave this promise be ever with you!</p>
                  <closer><signed>BENJ. M. PALMER.</signed>
<dateline>May 4, 1835.</dateline></closer>
                </div1>
              </body>
            </text>
          </q>
          <p>The third is from his daughter, Miss Mary S. Palmer, the poetess.</p>
          <q direct="unspecified">
            <text>
              <body>
                <div1 type="letter">
                  <p><hi rend="italics">To Mr. D. A. Payne:</hi> It is with melancholy pleasure that I comply with the request of my friend by inserting a few lines in his album. The tenderest sympathies of my heart have been awakened in your behalf, while contemplating the mysterious providence which separates you from your affectionate and beloved pupils, who were profiting by your faithful instructions. In seasons like this, when clouds and darkness rest upon us, and we cannot understand the dealings of God, we <hi rend="italics">fully realize</hi> the blessedness of those who can with a child-like confidence repose in God's promises, and pour all our sorrows into the compassionate bosom of the <hi rend="italics">sinner's friend,</hi> “who is touched with the feeling of our infirmities,” who remembers our frame, and who stands ready to administer consolation as soon as the purposes of his love are answered.
<pb id="p38" n="38"/>
May your <hi rend="italics">covenant God</hi> support, guide, and protect you, and make all your way plain before you! When you leave the land of your nativity you will carry with you the respect and esteem of the <hi rend="italics">wise</hi> and the <hi rend="italics">good.</hi> Many will follow you with their prayers and best wishes. May Jehovah Jesus be with you to bless you, lift upon you the light of his countenance, and give you favor among strangers! May he comfort you with the richest consolations of his Spirit, and raise up influential, <hi rend="italics">pious friends</hi> to do you good! May he open before you an extensive field of usefulness, so that you may have reason to bless his holy name for causing light to spring out of present darkness; that you may have occasion to say with Jacob of old, when you review all the way through which his providence has called you to pass, “With my staff I passed the Jordan, and now I am become two bands,” and when it is <hi rend="italics">well with you,</hi> O remember <hi rend="italics">your brethren</hi> whom you leave behind, and <hi rend="italics">do them good.</hi> Farewell!</p>
                  <closer><dateline>Charleston, May 6, 1835.</dateline>
<signed>MARY S. PALMER.</signed></closer>
                </div1>
              </body>
            </text>
          </q>
          <p>Thank God! Thank God the earnest prayers of this noble lady have been almost literally fulfilled! I now look back over the distance of more than fifty years, and find myself in the midst of a people emancipated by the strong arm of the Lord God Almighty. The five self-supporting schools which were crushed by the cruel Act of 1834, enforced in April, 1835, have multiplied into hundreds of public schools supported by State funds and public schools supported by private benevolence all over these lands</p>
          <p>Thirty years from the day I left Charleston, at almost the same day and hour, I returned with a band of traveling preachers to commence missionary operations in Charleston and elsewhere. With these preachers from the North, and some from my native State, I organized the first South Carolina Annual Conference of the African Methodist Episcopal Church.</p>
          <p>That one has multiplied into eleven, scattered over
<pb id="p39" n="39"/>
the States of South Carolina, North Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Florida, and Virginia.</p>
          <p>Would to God I could meet Miss Mary S. Palmer to-day, and her sainted father and her sainted mother and her sainted sister, Miss Jane Keith Palmer! I know they would rejoice with me over the marvelous things which God's omnipotent hand has accomplished at the end of half a century. Listen to the consolatory lines penned by the last named:</p>
          <q type="letter" direct="unspecified">
            <text>
              <body>
                <div1 type="letter">
                  <p>The sun never ariseth so glorious as when he divideth the thick clouds of the morning and looketh forth from his pavilion of waters around him; nor does man ever bespeak so much his spiritual strength, or show so like unto God, as when he rejoiceth with a serene joy over darkness and trouble, and gathers sweet refreshment to his glory from the clouds which overcast him.</p>
                  <closer>
                    <signed>JANE KEITH PALMER.</signed>
                    <dateline>May 5, 1835.</dateline>
                  </closer>
                </div1>
              </body>
            </text>
          </q>
          <p>At a time when my heart seemed ready to burst with grief and my lips ready to deny the existence of God, or to blaspheme his holy name for permitting one race to grind another to powder, such white friends were exceedingly dear and precious to me. I looked on them then, and regard them now, as God's angels sent to strengthen me when the powers of darkness seemed to be let loose against me and against the race which I was so earnestly serving. I can never cease to remember them without emotions of gratitude and love. Forget them? No; never.</p>
          <p>Many of my colored brethren did all in their power to console and strengthen my heart and hands, chief of whom—outside the M. E. Church—was Mr. John Mishaw. Immediately after the close of my school he sent his servant to convey me and my trunks to his hospitable home, where he entertained me at his own
<pb id="p40" n="40"/>
expense up to the day of my departure from Charleston. He and his family all made me comfortable and as happy as possible under the circumstances. The remembrance of his kindness is a sweet thing in my heart.</p>
          <p>Mr. Thomas Engles loaned me one hundred dollars to make my outfit. Years later I refunded it to his son Thomas with compound interest. The chief of my benefactors of the Cumberland Street M. E. Church was my class-leader, Mr. Samuel Weston, who made my traveling suit, but would not receive any reward. Thirty years afterward, finding that he had sustained losses by fire, and that his business had been damaged by the Civil War, I demanded his bill, but he positively refused to take any reward. May God's blessings rest upon his children and his children's children!</p>
          <p>I must not omit the mention of my grandaunt, Mrs. Sarah Bordeaux, who was then a nurse in the family of Bishop Theodore Dehon. She furnished me with a box filled with the best of cakes. A month was thus consumed in preparation for my departure.</p>
        </div2>
        <div2 type="chapter">
          <pb id="p41" n="41"/>
          <head>Chapter V. <lb/> FIRST EXPERIENCES IN THE NORTH.</head>
          <p>I SAILED from Charleston the 9th of May, 1835, about four o'clock Saturday, in search of a field of usefulness as a teacher of children and youth, for such was the work to which I was conscious God had been training and was still training me. Numerous were the dear friends who followed me to the steamer, who bade me adieu with many a hearty shake of the hand and sincere wish for prosperity, while they stood weeping. As for me, almost blind with tears, I stood at the steamer's side, also weeping, and gazed till distance placed them out of my sight and till, like a flying bird, the tall spire of St. Michael's Church faded amidst the glories of the setting sun. Darkness soon threw her curtain over the face of the ocean, and I sought a place to sleep away my sorrows. What were my peculiar feelings, emotions, and thoughts, what of sea-life I witnessed and experienced, I cannot now tell, as I kept no journal of those days, and half a century has effaced them. But on Wednesday morning I awoke to find all as still as death save the voices and footsteps on the deck, and I became conscious that we were lashed to a dock in New York.</p>
          <p>I arose and prepared to go ashore, and I was soon
<pb id="p42" n="42"/>
at a boarding-house. After breakfast I selected from my letters of introduction one of two given me by Bishop Gadsen, which was to Rev. Peter Williams, a colored Protestant Episcopal clergyman. I soon found my way to his residence on Crosby Street, where he received me very kindly and tendered me a hearty welcome. I had not been long engaged in conversation with him before a lad of dark complexion entered the parlor. His step was quick and elastic, his eyes beaming with the light of a superior intellect, his entire aspect that of one possessed of more than ordinary endowments. Said he: “Mr. Williams, I am here, sir, to request you to aid me in obtaining an education. I desire to go to school to Miss Crandal,<ref targOrder="U" id="ref2" n="2" rend="sc" target="note2">*</ref><note id="note2" n="2" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref2"><p>* Miss Prudence Crandal, whose school was the only one accessible to colored youth at that time. This lad was a member of it when it was burned.</p></note> and shall be glad to get whatever you can give me.” Promptly taking out his pocket-book, the Rev. Mr. Williams handed to this interesting lad a ten-dollar bank-note, expressing regret at his inability at that time to give more, and promising more assistance at a future day. The depths of my soul were moved toward the lad. I said to myself: “Can I also aid him?” I had then but forty dollars in my pocket—all the money I had in the world. I was eight hundred miles from my native city, among strangers, seeking employment, and not knowing when I would find it, but I was not long in making up my mind. I took out my purse, and gave him two Spanish silver dollars.</p>
          <p>Years after, when I was in Philadelphia—a school-master and local elder at Old Bethel—a finely-developed
<pb id="p43" n="43"/>
young man, in the habit of a clergyman, called at my boarding-place. We were introduced, and I took him to Bishop Morris Brown, who invited him to preach in Old Bethel. At the hour he appeared as a deacon in the Protestant Episcopal Church and in the capacity of a missionary to plant and train a Church among the needy colored people of that city. As he preached I listened to him with delight, and thanked God with joy unspeakable that he had enabled me to contribute my small mite to the development of such a mind, because he was the same person I had met in 1835 at the house of Rev. Peter Williams. He subsequently passed through one of the first universities of Europe; has written and published his thoughts in such a form as to win admiration on both sides of the Atlantic; has lived on three continents; and now, returned to his native land, is performing perhaps the grandest work of his life.<ref targOrder="U" id="ref3" n="3" rend="sc" target="note3">*</ref><note id="note3" n="3" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref3"><p>* Reference is made to Rev. Alexander Crummel, D.D., rector of St. Luke's Episcopal Church, Washington, D. C.</p></note> God grant that his last days may be his best!</p>
          <p>How much silver and gold is wasted, sinfully wasted, upon human pleasures, which degrade their votaries, but which might be successfully employed in the diffusion of knowledge, the drilling of the gifted intellect for leadership under the command of God's anointed Commander to the people!</p>
          <p>The same evening of my call upon Mr. Williams he proposed a visit to an anti-slavery meeting. It was the anniversary of the American Anti-slavery Society. There I heard George Thompson, the celebrated English orator, pouring out streams of matchless eloquence against the demon of slavery. Among
<pb id="p44" n="44"/>
the things said at this meeting which I remember was the pleading of Lewis Tappan for the publication of a small monthly, to be called the <hi rend="italics">Child's Anti-slavery Magazine.</hi> The object of this was to educate the rising generation in anti-slavery ideas, for, said he, “All children are naturally anti-slavery, and it is only by a training as false as it is wicked that they become pro-slavery.” These and similar utterances led me to see that what Dr. Palmer had said to me in whispers in the city of Charleston were echoing thunders in the Northern sky.<ref targOrder="U" id="ref4" n="4" rend="sc" target="note4">*</ref><note id="note4" n="4" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref4"><p>* The Garrisonian movement commenced in 1832, and every thing connected with it was sedulously kept from the cars and the eyes of the colored people of the South. It was only by whispers that we learned that there was a glimmer of a day of freedom to come to the enslaved.</p></note></p>
          <p>The next day I began to deliver my letters of introduction. I called at the Book Concern of the M. E. Church, where I was received very kindly, but recommended to “go to Africa.” I met with a fraternal welcome at my next two calls upon Congregational and Protestant Episcopal clergymen, who also advised me to go to Africa. To all these I said that I felt it my duty to labor for the salvation of my race in the United States. Lastly I went to Rev. Daniel Strobel, of the Lutheran Church, and presented my letter to him from Dr. Bachman. He read it, and said: “Mr. Payne, I believe you are providentially here, for Dr. Martin has just informed me that the Society of Inquiry on Missions, at Gettysburg, has resolved to educate a talented, pious young man of color for the intellectual, moral, and social elevation of the free colored people in this country,
<pb id="p45" n="45"/>
and from what these letters say of you I think you are the very man whom they want. Now, if you will go to Gettysburg, and study theology there, you will be better fitted than you now are for usefulness among your people.” I told him that my highest aim was to be an educator; that the sanctities and responsibilities of the ministry were too great and awful for me. But he overcame my objections by showing the enlarged usefulness resulting from such a course, and stating that I would not be obliged to enter the ministry. “And if you should not enter the ministry, your training in theology will make you more useful in the school-room.”</p>
          <p>I spent a few days carefully examining the doctrines of the Lutheran Church, as presented in the “Unabridged Popular Theology” of Dr. Schmucker; and then I consented, being convinced that the students of divinity at Gettysburg were not screwed down to the Procrustean bedstead—that, in short, I would there be in the hands of a teacher who would be as liberal as he was Christian and learned.</p>
          <p>Three days after this interview I returned to Dr. Strobel to ask two questions—whether I should be required by the Society to embrace the doctrines and usages of the Lutheran Church as conditional to my education at Gettysburg, and whether the ultimate end of my training there would be African colonization.<ref targOrder="U" id="ref5" n="5" rend="sc" target="note5">*</ref><note id="note5" n="5" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref5"><p>* At this time African colonization was a stirring question, and greatly excited the colored thinkers. It was the antagonist of the American Anti-slavery Society.</p></note> To both questions he replied in the negative, and at the end of ten days from my arrival in the city of New York I set my face for the general theological
<pb id="p46" n="46"/>
seminary of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, at Gettysburg, Pa.</p>
          <p>During my few days' stay in New York I formed some very pleasant acquaintances, many of which ripened into strong friendship. Among these early acquaintances were Rev. Peter Williams, the son of Mr. Peter Williams, the first and oldest sexton of John Street M. E. Church, whose history is outlined in forty pages of a work entitled “Lost Chapters of Methodism.” He was well educated for his day—hospitable, generous; not a <hi rend="italics">windy friend</hi> of education. He loved to see talented young men educating themselves, and substantially aided more than one in his efforts. Above all he valued an educated ministry. He was the friend of my youth.</p>
          <p>Mr. Thomas B. Downing, the father of Mr. George T. Downing, was the second colored person whose acquaintance I made. He was the proprietor of a first-class <hi rend="italics">restaurant</hi> on Wall Street, large-hearted, public-spirited, and a radical abolitionist.</p>
          <p>Mr. Thomas Hamilton, one of whose sons was the publisher of an interesting monthly—the <hi rend="italics">Anglo-African</hi>—was more aged than either of the above. His brain was cast in a philosophical mold, and he was head and shoulders above his fellows in general intelligence, though skeptical. Kind and generous to strangers, he spared neither pains nor expense to enable me to see somewhat of the outer and inner life of the metropolis.</p>
          <p>Mr. Charles Reason, now Professor Reason and principal in a graded school in New York, was then perhaps twenty years of age, slightly built, graceful in movement, and with a face remarkably sweet in expression.
<pb id="p47" n="47"/>
He then held the rank of monitor in one of the public schools. He subsequently became a professor in one of the colleges established in central New York for the education of both races. If my memory be accurate, it was styled “Central College.” Afterward he became Principal<ref targOrder="U" id="ref6" n="6" rend="sc" target="note6">*</ref><note id="note6" n="6" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref6"><p>* He was its first Principal, and managed it with great skill, to the satisfaction of its trustees, all of whom were teachers.</p></note> of the “Institute for Colored Youths,” in Philadelphia. Upon his second marriage he deemed best for him to move back to New York, where he has been up to the present time at the head of one of the best graded schools of the Empire State, commanding for many years the splendid salary of $3,000 per annum. The Professor is more of a meditative than a public character. Too upright to be a politician, but not lacking in the spirit of a patriot, he has made himself known and felt rather by his pen than by his tongue, because he is no windy rhetorician. Professor Reason is not a member of that flippant class who make eloquent speeches in behalf of the education and consequent elevation of the colored race, and then render no substantial aid. When I was in New York soliciting funds to put a medium-sized museum in Wilberforce University the names of at least half a dozen men of color were given. They were reported to be worth from $10,000 to $100,000. He was the only one who was a practical friend of education. He gave me twenty-five dollars, and his noble wife also gave me twenty-five. The others sent me away with empty excuses. From one who died a few years after, leaving (according to newspaper report) a property of half a million of dollars behind, I could not get a single dollar or a single cent. I have
<pb id="p48" n="48"/>
visited many school-rooms in the United States and in foreign lands, and closely watched the methods of many teachers; but I have seldom met his equal, never his superior.</p>
          <p>Rev. Chas. B. Ray was at that time, I believe, a city missionary of the Congregational Church. Well educated, as now, he hid much under the beautiful mantle of modesty. He lived then in comfortable circumstances—a rare thing for a man of color to do in the great city of New York. He has always been connected with the anti-slavery movement, and was one of the founders of the <hi rend="italics">Colored American.</hi><ref targOrder="U" id="ref7" n="7" rend="sc" target="note7">*</ref><note id="note7" n="7" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref7"><p>* The <hi rend="italics">Colored American</hi> was in 1835 the only weekly journal edited by colored men, and was the second that came into existence by them.</p></note> Rev. Samuel E. Cornish was at the time its chief editor. Mr. Philip Bell, editor of the <hi rend="italics">Elevator,</hi> in California, was associated with Cornish and Ray.<ref targOrder="U" id="ref8" n="8" rend="sc" target="note8">†</ref><note id="note8" n="8" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref8"><p>† Rev. C. B. Ray is the father of three daughters now living, of whom he has great reason to rejoice, because they have been well educated in the homestead as well as in the public schools of New York. Their sound and wholesome education has been manifest to all acquainted with them, both in the school-room and in the social circle. All their lives, since the attainment of mature womanhood, have been spent in the training of children—than which neither man nor woman can be more honorably or more usefully employed. Miss Florence, second in age, has always distinguished herself by her studious habits, and made commendable progress in German literature. I can truly say it was a real and solid enjoyment to spend an evening in the hospitable and refined home of this sainted man. He was left behind him a sweet, noble-hearted widow and three interesting daughters, whom we have reason to believe and to hope will honor his memory as they have adorned his life.</p></note> Rev. Samuel
<pb id="p49" n="49"/>
Cornish was the second of three brothers, all of whom were ministers of the gospel. William and John were elders of the A. M. E. Church. Samuel was a Presbyterian, and founder of the Presbyterian Church now known as Shiloh. Up to his marriage with a wealthy young lady of color he was its pastor. He was succeeded by Rev. Theodore T. Wright, a man of blessed memory, who was beloved by everybody who knew him on account of his generous nature and catholic spirit. Educated at Princeton, he was respected by all his white classmates on account of his modesty and usefulness as one of the foremost leaders of the colored people in the city of New York, in which he was one of the Executive Committee of the American Anti-slavery Society. The writer of these recollections and Rev. Theodore S. Wright were so much alike in temper and general views that we never met or parted, in public or private, without kissing each other.</p>
          <p>At this time (1835) George S. Downing, Esq., had just attained his manhood, but was animated with the same patriotic and race-loving spirit which distinguished his noble sire. This spirit has not been diminished by age. It is still burning with an intensity that is consuming him. This is manifest by his fearless rebukes—perhaps I had better say utterances—against both of the political parties whenever he believes they are ignoring human rights, when those rights are to be applied to the colored citizens of the Republic.</p>
          <p>I was also introduced to Lewis Tappan, Esq., who was blessed with a countenance so radiant with sweetness as to rise into the beautiful; and beneath that
<pb id="p50" n="50"/>
face was a soul that kindled into wrath and indignation at the thoughts of American slavery and oppression. Immediately he began to interrogate me concerning slavery as it had manifested itself in my native city, and concluded his inquiries by asking me what I thought of “immediate and unconditional emancipation.” I replied that I was opposed to that, because I believed the slaves ought to be educated before emancipation, that they might know how to enjoy freedom. Instantly he replied: “Don't you know that men can't be educated in a state of slavery?” He then convinced me in a few words that education and slavery were antagonistic and could not exist together—that the one must crush out the other. Then, giving me a picture of a kneeling slave, with hands fettered and eyes upturned to heaven, he said: “When you arrive at Gettysburg organize a prayer-meeting among your fellow-students, and beseech God to bring slavery to an end.”<ref targOrder="U" id="ref9" n="9" rend="sc" target="note9">*</ref><note id="note9" n="9" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref9"><p>* This picture, which is still in my album of 1832, was engraved by Mr. Patrick Reason, the brother of Professor Reason, then a resident of New York, but now, if living, dwelling in Cleveland, O. He, being a man of quiet spirit, and devoted to the engraver's science and art, is known only to his relatives and immediate acquaintances.</p></note> This request gave me an entirely new view of an abolitionist, whom I had been taught to regard as an <hi rend="italics">unprincipled agitator.</hi> I said: “If these abolitionists be men of prayer, they cannot be bad men.</p>
          <p>Five years subsequent to this interview, stopping in New York City again, I attended an anti-slavery prayer-meeting under the management of Mr. Tappan in the lecture-room of the Broadway Tabernacle. I was called upon to speak and to pray. The scope
<pb id="p51" n="51"/>
of my remarks was to show the power of prayer as applied to all great moral evils. I was immediately followed by a gentleman from Georgia, who declared himself a <hi rend="italics">Christian</hi> and a <hi rend="italics">slave-holder.</hi> He commended “the spirit of the colored brother who had just spoken,” because he “believed in prayer and not in denunciation.” As he sat down Mr. Tappan arose, and with great depth of feeling said to him: “You are no Christian; you are a man-stealer.” “I <hi rend="italics">am a Christian</hi>,” was the emphatic rejoinder. “No,” was the reply; “you are not a Christian; you are a manstealer. No Christian can make a slave of another.” The effect was terrible. The audience became highly excited, and finally the Georgian walked hastily out of the meeting.</p>
          <p>On my way to Gettysburg I stopped at Philadelphia, where I also met many interesting people. Mr. Joseph Cassey, a colored manufacturer of wigs and other hair-decorations, who had retired on a fortune of about $75,000, with a lovely wife and five children; the talented Forten family, the head of which was the venerable James Forten; the Purvis family, and others. James Forten was the father of eight children, equally divided as regards sex, and all talented. Of the four sons Robert seemed to be the most gifted. He was a polished orator, a more than ordinary mathematician, and also gifted with a poetical vein. His knowledge of mathematics he reduced to practice by the construction of a fine telescope nine feet long. He ground his own lenses and set them himself. It was approved by the Franklin Institute, of Philadelphia, and there put on exhibition. His poetical talent may be seen in the following lines, which he wrote
<pb id="p52" n="52"/>
in my album under a picture descriptive of the ruins of ancient Rome, and is entitled</p>
          <lg type="poem">
            <head>ROME.</head>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Here lies the city once an empire's pride,</l>
              <l>In moldering ruin and confused heap;</l>
              <l>Here rests her beauty, and here reside</l>
              <l>Full many a brave in silent sleep.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>Low in the dust her hundred spires</l>
              <l>Are laid, the remnant of battles' rage,</l>
              <l>The ashes of the foeman's fires,</l>
              <l>A scene to light the poet's page.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>The dust, which as the winds arise,</l>
              <l>Moves O'er the graves of soldiers dead;</l>
              <l>This spot may be where Cæsar lies,</l>
              <l>This rising mound the hero's bed.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg type="poem">
              <l>O Rome! once mistress of a world in arms,</l>
              <l>Thy glory's set and gone forever;</l>
              <l>Thy lofty towers, thy countless charms</l>
              <l>Are buried, to resurrection never!</l>
            </lg>
            <signed>—<hi rend="italics">Robert B. Forten.</hi></signed>
          </lg>
          <p>After the death of his father and that of his first wife (the mother of Mrs. Rev. Frank J. Grimke), having married again, he went with his second wife to Canada during the agitation of the fugitive slave law times; and subsequently he went to England, where he remained chiefly in the city of London until the Civil War broke out in the United States, and the organization of colored troops was ordered by the government. As soon as that fact was made known in England the natural love of country and of race seized his spirit, and having made proper arrangements for his family, without notifying any of his relatives in this country, not even his venerable mother, he crossed the ocean and appeared at the old homestead. She, surprised at his presence, asked: “Robert, what
<pb id="p53" n="53"/>
brought you here?” His reply was substantially these words: “When now on the eve of the triumph of freedom how could I, or any other colored man in whose bosom a love of country, race, and liberty dwells, remain in a foreign land? I am come to help break the bonds of the slave and aid in the triumph of liberty.” He enlisted under the banners of Gen. Berney, and as a recruiting officer was both diligent and successful in raising troops on the eastern shore of Maryland and Virginia until he was seized with typhoid fever, by which, after a short illness, he fell engaged in the service of his country. After his death a magnificent allusion was made to him on the floor of Congress by Congressman Kelley, of Pennsylvania.</p>
          <p>As an instance well illustrating the foolishness of unfounded prejudice, I recall an incident which occurred about the time I made these acquaintances. Mr. Robert Purvis was about to go to Europe, and had engaged passage when the owner of the vessel informed him that Mr. Bernard Carter, of Virginia, also a passenger, hearing that a colored man was to be one of the number, had declared that he would not go out on the same vessel with a negro. On account of the owner's evident embarrassment, Mr. Purvis gave up his berth and went to New York, crossing the Atlantic from there. From his departure to his return he was not insulted in any manner by any allusion to his color (which was not discernible) or to his race. When ready to return to America, he found this same Virginian ready to sail on the same vessel. The two Americans, before sailing, became quite well acquainted, and Mr. Carter begged Mr. Purvis to get a seat beside him at ship-table. The result was that
<pb id="p54" n="54"/>
the two were on terms of hearty good friendship throughout the voyage, Mr. Purvis being invariably selected by his companion to promenade the deck with him. A South Carolinian and family, Mr. Haynes, were also on board, with others of distinction. With all these he was on most intimate terms, promenading the deck with both ladies and gentlemen. As he felt that he was a <hi rend="italics">man</hi> as much as any one on board, he felt no call to disclose his connection with the proscribed race unless it were necessary; therefore he kept silent until about to leave the ship. A parting dinner had been given by the captain, at which Mr. Purvis distinguished himself in a speech for which he was called upon, and received my compliments. After the dinner he informed the steward that he was a colored man, and directed him to make public the disclosure. He did so. It was at first disbelieved, and one of the party approached Mr. Purvis and asked if it was true, thinking it a joke. Mr. Purvis confirmed the statement, and he returned to the passengers, where it produced much excitement, gravity, discomfiture, and merriment, as the whole force of the situation was realized. One gentleman, it is said, laughed himself off his feet contemplating the absurdity of the Southerners' positions. How foolish is that prejudice which judges a gentleman by the color of his skin, or by known possession of negro blood! Mr. Purvis was as much the gentleman and their equal at the last as at first. He is a native of Charleston, S. C.; was born August 4, 1810. His father was an Englishman, his mother free-born; his maternal grandmother was born in Morocco, North Africa. For many years he was Vice-president
<pb id="p55" n="55"/>
of the American Anti-slavery Society, and for several years President of the Pennsylvania Anti-slavery Society, and he was also President of the Under-ground Railroad Society. It is now over half a century since I first met him in Philadelphia, and the same high moral sensibilities which marked him then still distinguish him now.</p>
        </div2>
        <div2 type="chapter">
          <pb id="p56" n="56"/>
          <head>Chapter VI. <lb/> EXPERIENCE AT GETTYSBURG.</head>
          <p>AFTER a short stay in the “Quaker City” the time for my departure was come, and I left by railroad for Columbia, Pa., and there I took the stage for Gettysburg. Arriving there, I was soon in the hotel, in my bed-chamber, and fast asleep. The next morning I presented myself at the seminary, but as my trunk, in which were my letters of introduction, had been left behind, I was in a dilemma. I bethought myself, however, of my album, in which the same friends had written, and I took it out and presented it to Mr. Stroll, who was in charge. He immediately said, after reading: “Sir, you might travel round the world with this album, without any other testimonial to your character.” And he bade me welcome.</p>
          <p>It was the month of June, and the reapers were in the field. It was a sight as pleasant as it was new and instructive. There were about twelve men in a single field that stretched out before me. All used cradles, the blades of which gleamed in the light of the sun. Their movements were to me fearful, as well as graceful, for the wheat fell in heaps at every swing of the glittering cradles, and brought to my mind the statement of the Great Teacher when he uttered the parable of the sower, in which he says: “The harvest
<pb id="p57" n="57"/>
is the end of the world; and the reapers are the angels.” (Matt. xiii. 39; Rev. xiv. 15, 16.)</p>
          <p>From that day until the arrival of President Schmucker my time was spent in reading and rambling over the hills, which were in the suburbs of the village, and from their summits viewing the distant range of the Blue Mountains, and the sun setting gloriously over and behind them. These mountainous regions were very instructive and refreshing to me, not only because of their novelty, but rather because they contrasted grandly with the low, prairie-like regions surrounding Charleston, where the sun seemed to rise out of the ocean and to set behind the islands. But after my spirit had drunk down this valley and mountain scenery, then came the sad reflections about my native city, about the loved ones I had left behind me. O the parting scene in that school-room, those interesting children, and my sister, my only sister, whom I would never see again! But what made my thought almost agonizing was the recollection of the fact that this separation was the bitter product of unjust, cruel, and blasphemous laws—cruel and unjust to a defenseless race, blasphemous of that God who of one blood did make all the nations of the earth, all its races, all its families, every individual man. Every night for many years after I left Charleston did I dream about it—wandering over its streets, bathing in its rivers, worshiping in its chapels, or teaching in my school-room, and sometimes I was sailing into it and sometimes flying out of it.</p>
          <p>When Dr. Schmucker, the President, arrived, I called upon him and again asked what the Society
<pb id="p58" n="58"/>
had in view—whether it was the intention to send me to Liberia. The reply was: “The members of that Society are not colonizationists, but abolitionists, and they desire you to be trained to labor for the intellectual, moral, religious, and social improvement of the free people of color in the United States.” My doubts were at rest, and I was ready for matriculation.</p>
          <p>While casting about whether to unite with the College Church or the M. E. Church, it was intimated to me that the latter was pro-slavery, which was made evident the following year, when the representatives<ref targOrder="U" id="ref10" n="10" rend="sc" target="note10">*</ref>
<note id="note10" n="10" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref10"><p>* This was Mr. Blanchard, subsequently Dr. Blanchard, who was for many years President of one of the Congregational colleges in North Illinois. At the time of his appearance at Gettysburg he was fresh from Andover Theological Seminary. He and other students had abandoned Andover because Prof. Moses Stewart had given such an exegesis of St. Paul's letter to Philemon concerning Onesimus as to justify slavery. He was one of sixty or seventy lecturers of the American Anti-slavery Society commissioned to go through several of the Northern States to indoctrinate the people in anti-slavery sentiments and principles, and to champion the cause of freedom. At the time of his visit to Gettysburg the pastor of the Methodist Episcopal Church was from Maryland, and deeply imbued with the spirit of slavery. He met Mr. Blanchard in the court-house, and defended slavery as best he could. He was aided by Senator Cooper, of Pennsylvania, a man of more than ordinary ability; but he and Mr. Bond, the pro-slavery preacher, had more than their match in Prof. Reynolds, of the Lutheran Church, also of Pennsylvania College, and Hon. Thaddeus Stevens, a member of Congress, whose  soul burned as intensely with the fires of liberty as Senator Cooper's did with the flames of slavery. As for Mr. Blanchard, he was sunshine as well as storm, uniting in himself the logician, the philosopher, and the orator. His facts and his arguments against slavery were irresistible. The excitement in Gettysburg and throughout Adams County became intense, but the people were too sober-minded to raise a mob.</p></note>
<pb id="p59" n="59"/>
of the American Anti-slavery Society entered Gettysburg. There was at that time no A. M. E. Church at Gettysburg. In 1837 I prepared the way for one, but the choice of an intemperate class-leader by the minister sent them, whose name was Jeffry Goulden, was so unfortunate that African Methodism there received a blow from which it has never recovered. There was one at Carlisle, of which I shall soon speak.</p>
          <p>While pursuing my studies at the Seminary I obtained permission to use an old building belonging to the College for Sunday-school instruction. So, gathering in all the colored children in the neighborhood, I opened the school, having for teachers such persons as I could obtain from the village and the Seminary. As occasion did permit I also held religious meetings, and labored to produce revivals, which labors were blessed by the coming of many souls to Christ. I also organized societies among the women for mental and moral improvement. At one of the religious meetings, and under the influence of more zeal than knowledge, I injured myself by speaking three hours before I stopped. For more than three weeks after I could not speak above a whisper.</p>
          <p>During the time I was at Gettysburg I studied German, Hebrew, Greek, ecclesiastical history, mental philosophy, archæology, and systematic theology. I found there many kind friends also, and the good Dr. Schmucker was not only a kind instructor, but often exhibited the tenderness of a father by supplying
<pb id="p60" n="60"/>
my bodily needs. To help myself along, in addition to my studies, I cut wood, cleaned boots and shoes, and shaved.</p>
          <p>Two years passed swiftly away, and on its wings bore me away without graduation. The cause of this misfortune was as follows: I was reposing one day, flat on my back on my bed, reading a small work on “The Use of the Eyes.” I had just reached the point where the author warns the student against the habit of reading in a recumbent position. At that moment I felt an acute pain in my left eye. It was produced by straining the optic nerve. During the greater part of the twelve months following, which it took to repair the damage, whenever I attempted to read a sensation was produced like the piercing of a needle into the eye-ball. During the first hour of this misfortune my reflections were sad, and when I perceived that I was compelled to quit my books and leave school before my course was completed I threw myself upon my bed and began to lament over my condition, when an inspiration came to me which I could not resist, saying: “Look at the thirteenth chapter of Matthew, sixteenth verse.” I rose quickly and opened my Bible upon these words: “Blessed are your eyes, for they see; and your ears, for they hear.” These words were full of comfort to me, because they enabled me to understand that I was not in as bad a condition as some others who could not see or hear, and that a person is not in so bad a condition but that he might be in a worse. And so it is throughout life. When we are plunged into misfortune, if we look up to those who are in a more prosperous state than ours we begin to murmur, but when we look down upon those
<pb id="p61" n="61"/>
who are in a more deplorable condition we are made to rejoice.</p>
          <p>The physician prescribed simply rest and wearing of glasses slightly colored. So I consulted Dr. Schmucker about some plan of usefulness in which I might employ my time. His advice may be summed up in the following words: “We should be glad to have you operate as a minister of the gospel in the Lutheran Church, but I think you can find a greater field of usefulness in the A. M. E. Church; therefore I advise you to join that body of professing Christians.”</p>
          <p>At this point it is proper to tell how I became acquainted with the condition and wants of the A. M. E. Church. Having made the acquaintance of Rev. John Peck, a local deacon of Carlisle, Pa., I was invited there during vacation, and also invited to preach and assist in the Sunday-school. I was also welcomed at all quarterly meetings, where I was frequently consulted upon certain points. But little respect was paid to the requirements of the Discipline. The old elder, John Cornish—a man good-natured in spirit and affable in manners—judged as he pleased, and expelled Tom, Dick, or Harry “from the A. M. E. Church in the United States of America forever.” Rev. Henry C. Turner, who died while pastor of Israel Church, in Washington, D. C., was then subordinate pastor in Carlisle, and a very, very different man—sound, powerful, patient, meek, and free from the infernal spirit of envy. The house of worship was an old-fashioned building. In its basement—a miserable cellar—a school was kept for colored children, and taught by a devout Christian white lady, Miss
<pb id="p62" n="62"/>
Sarah Bell.<ref targOrder="U" id="ref11" n="11" rend="sc" target="note11">*</ref><note id="note11" n="11" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref11"><p>* When I was there in 1376 a nobler edifice occupied the same site, evidencing the progress of the colored inhabitants in knowledge, religion, and wealth. Miss Bell was still living, and still at the head of the colored school of Carlisle.</p></note> The public institutions of Carlisle were Dickerson College and the United States Barracks. The College was in the hands of the Methodists, and the many students from the adjoining slave States gave a strong pro-slavery character to the institution. It had previously belonged to the Presbyterians. Now (1835-7) the only outspoken friend of freedom among its professors was the noble Dr. McClintock, who wrote cogent articles to the <hi rend="italics">Christian Advocate,</hi> and even imperiled his life in assisting to rescue a fugitive slave. The United States Barracks were under the command of Major Ringgold, who was slain later in the Mexican war, where most, if not all, of the brilliant regiment which he used to drill while I was at Carlisle perished with him.</p>
          <p>After my misfortune came upon me I was lying upon my bed, lamenting and pondering over the future, when I felt a pressure from on high that constrained me to say with the Apostle Paul: “Woe is me if I preach not the gospel!” Though I had often spoken in the pulpit at Carlisle, yet not till then did I freely consent to devote myself to the work of the gospel ministry. Then it was that I consulted Dr. Schmucker, with the result before stated, and his advice being agreeable to my Methodistic predilections I took leave of Gettysburg, the Seminary, and friends, and went to Philadelphia, bearing in my album the following testimonials from valued instructors and friends:</p>
          <pb id="p63" n="63"/>
          <q type="letter" direct="unspecified">
            <text>
              <body>
                <div1 type="letter">
                  <p><hi rend="italics">To Mr. D. A. Payne:</hi> As you are about to leave the institution in which for about two years you have been pursuing a course of study preparatory to the holy ministry, it affords me unfeigned pleasure to testify that the effect of our daily intercourse during this time has been in unwavering confidence in the integrity of your purposes and the excellence of your character, together with the conviction that the God “who of one blood made all nations to dwell upon the face of the earth” will accompany you through life and crown with his blessing your labors in behalf of your oppressed kinsmen after the flesh. Let the precious promises of that God who hears the cries of the oppressed, and has predicted Ethiopia's enlargement, encourage you to aim at much, and let a humble and habitual reliance on his aid strengthen you for its performance. That the blessing of the Divine Saviour, who has promised to be with us alway, may richly abide with you, is the prayer of your friend and brother in Christ,</p>
                  <closer><signed>S. S. SCHMUCKER.</signed>
<dateline>Theological Seminary, Gettysburg, Pa., May 12, 1837.</dateline></closer>
                </div1>
              </body>
            </text>
          </q>
          <q direct="unspecified">
            <text>
              <body>
                <div1 type="letter">
                  <p><hi rend="italics">Mr. Daniel A. Payne:</hi> It devolved upon me, in the providence of God, to become your teacher in the languages which the Holy Spirit employed in revealing the will of God to men. I rejoice that my efforts have been successful in preparing you to read the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures. Your diligence and abilities have rendered your instruction easy and delightful. I feel confident that perseverance in the course you have commenced will render you a good linguist in the department of sacred philology, and convince many who may have been skeptical of the capacity of the colored man to achieve the intellectual victories which adorn and exalt human nature. The minister of Jesus should be well versed in the Bible, and he has a most desirable acquisition who can take the very words of inspiration and sit in judgment on their import and determine what it is. Study this holy book, then, by day and night. Read it in the original. Enlarge your knowledge of Hebrew and Greek philology. Spend a portion of every day in this employment. In this way you can make it appear what education and study can effect in your brethren, and refute the slanders of
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their enemies. You will thus enlarge your power of being useful to men by preaching the everlasting gospel, and become “a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.” You will place your own mind and heart in contact with the treasures of wisdom and grace, and advance in the knowledge of Jesus and grow in holiness. You are to be set on a hill, and to attract the observation of men. Much depends on fidelity on your part. If you pursue this course I confidently believe that honor, usefulness, and happiness await you in this world; and in that to come, where there is one fold under one Shepherd, a glory measured by your work, and not by your physical structure. Wherever you may go, my best wishes will accompany you. My prayer shall be, “Gracious Master, own him!” and not ashamed now to avow my fullest recognition of you as my brother by descent from the first human pair, and regretting most deeply the wrongs of your colored brethren, I hope to meet you in heaven, where all will be alike enjoying the mercies of the common Redeemer, and cherishing toward each other the purest, tenderest love. Farewell. God bless you!</p>
                  <closer><signed>C. P. KRAUTH.</signed>
<dateline>Theological Seminary, Gettysburg, Pa., May 16, 1837.</dateline></closer>
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          <p>With these encouraging words to stimulate me, I departed from Gettysburg, Pa., for Philadelphia, to consult Bishop Morris Brown, intending to unite with the A. M. E. Church, but was deterred later by a friend of my father, who informed me of the opposition of preachers of that Church to educated ministers. In proof of this he said that it was a common thing for the preachers of that Church to introduce their sermons by declaring that they had “not rubbed their heads against college-walls,” at which the people would cry, “Amen!” they had “never studied Latin or Greek,” at which the people would exclaim, “Glory to God!” they had “never studied Hebrew,” at which all would “shout.”</p>
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          <p>Preferring peace rather than strife, which I foresaw, I determined to unite with the Franklin Synod, of the Lutheran Church. Here I was licensed June, 1837, and about two years later I was ordained by the same Synod at Fordsboro, N. Y. That same week I was invited to serve a Presbyterian Church in East Troy, N. Y., and received invitations from the Second Colored Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia and the Second Colored Protestant Episcopal Church in New York City. The two latter I declined, but with the permission of the President of the Synod, as there was no work at the time in the Lutheran Church, I accepted the first named.</p>
          <p>Thus I commenced my career as a pastor at a little more than twenty-six years of age. With no pastoral experience, I deeply felt my own insufficiency and need of more than human counsel, of more than human aid, and found it necessary to spend much time on my knees both in praying and studying out my sermons.</p>
          <p>There were about forty or fifty members in the Church in East Troy when I became its pastor <hi rend="italics">pro tempore.</hi> Among my friends and helpers were two noble women: Aunt Peggy, an aged woman who was beyond fifty years before she knew how to read the Bible, but who was strong in faith, full of prayer, and could almost always tell when a season of revival was approaching. She was of great aid to me. Then there was that godly heroine, Miss Hannah Hubbard, an educated white lady, who shrunk not from the lowest of God's poor because they were of African descent, but freely mingled with them in their social circles, in the Sunday-school, and in the prayer-meeting. It
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was there that her communion and power with God was manifest. I think it was in the summer of 1839 that she married Rev. Hiram Wilson, who was then agent for some anti-slavery society to care for the varied interests of the fugitives from American slavery in Canada. She was of great aid to her self-sacrificing husband, and for many years made her personal influence felt as a blessing to our unfortunate brethren in Canada. She died at Dawn, Canada West, in the house of Mrs. Stowe's “Uncle Tom.”<ref targOrder="U" id="ref12" n="12" rend="sc" target="note12">*</ref><note id="note12" n="12" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref12"><p>* Mr. Josiah Henson.</p></note></p>
          <p>In the autumn of 1851, in company with others, I visited Dawn, Canada, in search of material for the history of the A. M. E. Church, and to see if Canada would be a safe asylum for our people.<ref targOrder="U" id="ref13" n="13" rend="sc" target="note13">†</ref><note id="note13" n="13" rend="sc" place="foot" anchored="yes" target="ref13"><p>† In 1851 the fugitive slave bill was then affecting our people, and all felt unsafe in the United States.</p></note> As “Uncle Tom” was conducting us down toward the banks of the River Thames, I noticed in a field at the left a grave encompassed by a newly-whitewashed paling. Its neatness aroused my curiosity to know whose grave it was. In answer to my question came the response: “It is the grave of Mrs. Hiram Wilson.” In an instant I was there, and found a beautiful rose blooming at the head. This rose I plucked, with some leaves, and on my return to the house of “Uncle Tom” his daughter gave me a lock of the hair of Mrs. Wilson, which is still in my possession as a relic of that godly heroine.</p>
          <p>Shortly after I had entered upon my work at East Troy I was sent by the citizens to represent them in the meeting of the National Moral Reform Society held in Philadelphia. Among the distinguished delegates
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were the Rev. Samuel E. Cornish, editor of the <hi rend="italics">Colored American,</hi> and Rev. Joshua Leavitt, then of the <hi rend="italics">New York Evangelist.</hi> On my return I stopped in New York at Mrs. Asenath Nicholson Graham's boarding-house. This lady was a devout Christian, in deep sympathy with every movement leading to the amelioration of the condition of the colored people and to the uplifting of humanity in general. She was also a woman of intellect and culture, and had written a biography of the first