The Rev. Theodore Sedgwick Wright--His Testimony against Caste--His Funeral--Drs. Cox and Patton--The Service in the House--The Procession--The Church--The Funeral Oration--Mrs. Wright. During my stay at this time in New York, there died in that city the Rev. Theodore Sedgwick Wright, a Presbyterian minister of colour. His attainments and talents were very respectable; and for fifteen years he had been the successful pastor of a church of coloured people in the city. Before you accompany me to his funeral, listen to his voice. Though "dead, he yet speaketh." He had felt this cruel prejudice against the colour of his skin as iron entering his soul. Here is his touching testimony on the subject, delivered in a speech at Boston eleven years before his death:-- "No man can really understand this prejudice, unless he feels it crushing him to the dust, because it is a matter of feeling. It has bolts, scourges, and bars, wherever the coloured man goes. It has bolts in all the schools and colleges. The coloured parent, with the same soul as a white parent, sends his child to the seats of learning; and he finds the door bolted, and he sits down to weep beside his boy. Prejudice stands at the door, and bars him out. Does the child of the coloured man show a talent for mechanics, the heart of the parent beats with hope. He sees the children of the white man engaged in employment; and he trusts that there is a door open to his boy, to get an honest living, and become a useful member of society. But, when he comes to the workshop with his child, he finds a bolt there. But, even suppose that he can get this first bolt removed, he finds other bars. He can't work. Let him be ever so skilled in mechanics, up starts prejudice, and says, 'I won't work in the shop if you do.' Here he is scourged by prejudice, and has to go back, and sink down to some of the employments which white men leave for the most degraded. He hears of the death of a child from home, and he goes in a stage or a steam-boat. His money is received, but he is scourged there by prejudice. If he is sick, he can have no bed, he is driven on deck: money will not buy for him the comforts it gets for all who have not his complexion. He turns to some friend among the white men. Perhaps that white man had sat at his table at home, but he does not resist prejudice here. He says, 'Submit. 'Tis an ordinance of God,--you must be humble.' Sir, I have felt this. As a minister, I have been called to pass often up and down the North River in steam-boats. Many a night I have walked the deck, and not been allowed to lie down in a bed. Prejudice would even turn money to dross when it was offered for these comforts by a coloured man. Thus prejudice scourges us from the table; it scourges us from the cabin, from the stage-coach, from the bed. Wherever we go, it has for us bolts, bars, and rods."