We were the only whites present; there were benches across the room, leaving a passage up the middle, the men and women occupying different sides. A pulpit was at the further end of the room, and in front of it stood a black preaching. He was in the middle of his sermon when we came in, so we did not hear the text, and sat down quietly at some distance from him, so as to be able to get out and go home to poor papa whenever we wished; a nigger came forward, and invited us to go further up the room, which we declined. The sermon went on for some time; it described the happiness felt by God's true children: and how they would cling to each other in persecution. The preacher encouraged them all in the path of holiness, and explained the Gospel means of salvation with great clearness, and really with admirably chosen words; there was a little action but not too much; and there were no vulgarities. The discourse was at least equal to the sermons of many of our dissenting ministers, and appeared to come from the lips of an educated gentleman, although with a black skin. He finished, and an old negro rose, and gave out the text:--"And seeing the multitudes, He went up into a mountain," &c. His voice at first was faint, and I could not hear what were the various jokes he cut which produced loud laughter, so we advanced a little. He afterwards became more serious. His address was quite distinct from his text, being an earnest and very well delivered exhortation to the converted to grow in grace; at the end of every period he repeated his text as a _refrain_.