Mr. ——— intended to introduce me to Dr. Spring, but he was not at home. He then took me to the Union Theological Seminary. In that institution about 120 young men are preparing for the Christian ministry. The library contains twenty thousand volumes on theology alone—musty and prosy tomes! What a punishment it would be to be compelled to wade through the whole! We saw neither professors nor students. My principal recollection of the place is that of feeling intensely hungry, and smelling at the same time the roast beef on which, in some of the lower regions of the buildings, the young divines were regaling themselves. In vain I wished to join them in that exercise.
When we came out, my guide proposed to take me to see Dr. Robinson. Much as I wanted to see the author of the "Greek Lexicon," and the Traveller in Palestine, there were other claims that then more urgently pressed themselves. I had breakfasted at 7, and it was now near 1. I gave my friend a hint to that effect. But he overruled it by saying, "It is close by, and won't take us many minutes." We went, but the Doctor was not in. We were now opposite Dr. Skinner's Church, and my friend insisted on my going to see it. It will hold about 1,000 people. All the pews are cushioned and lined, and the place has a decided air of aristocracy about it. The school-room, the lecture-room, the vestry, &c., were very complete and convenient. "How strange," I observed to my friend, "that you should so far exceed us in the comfort of your places of worship, and at the same time be so far behind us in domestic comforts." "That" said he, "was the principle of the Puritans,—the house of God first, their own after." I ventured to ask him what salaries ministers in New York generally received. He told me from 1,000 to 4,000 dollars, or from 200_l._ to 800_l._ "My own," he added, "is 2,000 dollars." We were now not far from the New York University. "You must go and see that," said he. I went, but saw nothing particular except the library, empty lecture-rooms, and chapel,—no professors. My friendly guide pointed to a portrait of Lord Lyndhurst, told me with evident pride that he was a Yankee, and marvelled at my ignorance of the fact.
From time to time I had given him hints that I was afraid of being too late for dinner at my lodgings; and when the sight-seeing was at last ended, he very coolly and complacently said, "Now, if you really think you are too late for dinner at your place, I shall be under the necessity of asking you to go and take a plate with me." Those were the ipsissima verba. I could scarcely keep my gravity; but I replied, "Thank you, sir; I want to go to the centre of the city, and I can easily get a dinner at any eating-house." He both nodded and expressed an entire concurrence, and seemed to think it an admirable arrangement. In parting, he pressed me to preach for him on the following Thursday, but I declined. The next day I was told, on unquestionable authority, that two or three years ago one of the elders of this gentleman's church, meeting a man from South America whom he took to be a mixture of Spaniard and Indian, requested his company to church. The stranger assented, and sat with him in his pew. He liked the service, became interested, and went again and again. At last it was whispered that he was a "Nigger,"—i.e. had a slight mixture of African blood in him. The next week a meeting of the Session was held, at which it was unanimously resolved that the intruder's entrance into the body of the church must be prohibited. Two men were stationed at the door for that purpose. The stranger came. He was stopped, and told that he could not be allowed to enter the body of the church, there being a place up in the gallery for coloured people. The man remonstrated, and said he had been invited to take a seat in Mr. So-and-so's pew. "Yes," they replied, "we are aware of that; but public feeling is against it, and it cannot be allowed." The stranger turned round, burst into tears, and walked home.
Mr. Johnson, of the Tribune, told me that two or three years ago he and thirty or forty more were returning from an Anti-slavery Convention held at Harrisburgh in Pennsylvania. They had left by railway for Philadelphia at 3 o'clock in the morning. At a town called Lancaster they stopped to breakfast. In the company were two coloured gentlemen, one of whom was a minister. They all sat down together. Soon the waiters began to whisper, "A nigger at table!" "There is two!" The landlord quickly appeared, seized one of the coloured gentlemen by the shoulder, and asked him how he dared to sit down at table in his house. The company remonstrated, and assured him that those whose presence appeared to be so offensive were very respectable men, friends of theirs, whom they had invited to sit down. It was all in vain. The landlord would hear nothing; "the niggers must go." "Very well," said the rest of the company; "then we shall all go." Away they went, and left the refined landlord to console himself for the loss of a large party to breakfast. They had to travel all the way to Philadelphia before they could break their fast.
The same gentleman told me that he believed if a white man of any standing in society in New York were now to marry a coloured lady, however intelligent and accomplished, his life would be in danger,—he would be lynched for having committed such an outrage upon "public opinion." And yet the boast is ever ringing in our ears, "This is a free country—every one does as he pleases here!"
On the 24th of March I called upon Dr. Spring. He is an Old School Presbyterian, and a supporter of the Colonization Society. In the course of conversation reference was made to State Churches.
Myself.—"You see, Doctor, State Churches are the curse of the British Empire, just as slavery is the curse of your country."
The Doctor.—"Ah! so it is; and yet we can do nothing to remove them. Here is our slavery,—we can't touch it; and you cannot touch your Established Church. Do you think you will ever get rid of it?"
Myself.—"Oh! Yes; I hope so."
The Doctor.—"But it will be a very long time before it comes to pass."