In the books which Fred. Douglass wrote of his life and times he always mentions the miserable and doleful processions of slaves who were driven, during the darkness of the night, from the pens into which they had been gathered in Baltimore to the vessels which were to sail with them to Georgia and other scenes of toil and exhaustion in the far-distant South. Alas, alas! The Sunny South had no joys for them, and as they passed through the streets of Baltimore, during the night, they wailed and lamented their hard fate. This leads me on to reflect, my dear reader, upon the gloriously-altered state of affairs that freedom has brought around, and which we can see all around about us at the present day. One of the grandest sights that delights our eyes now is the great array of Sunday-Schools in every State and county of the United States. I have always called the Sunday-School "the children’s church," and it is the children’s church, indeed, and a glorious church at that, too. Far and wide, spread over all this broad land, running all along the way from the wild Atlantic to the mild Pacific, and from the Lakes to the Gulf, young, well-dressed boys and girls in thousands and tens of thousands may be seen wending their happy way to their own dearly beloved "Children’s Church"—I mean their Sunday-School. The great and powerful wide-spread Methodist, Baptist and other grand churches, organized and carried on by the colored race to the utmost limits of the American Union, deserve the utmost praise for pains and labors they have been at to make such splendid provision for the rising generation of boys and girls, who thus go forth upon the Sabbath-day to worship the Lord in their own youthful, sweet and attractive way, well taught by devoted men and women, who rear their tender vines, and watch over them, and tend them well, as the careful and skilful gardener tends and ripens his precious plants in the hot-house.