I used to take great interest in hearing them preach, and availed myself of every possible opportunity to do so, consistent with my duties. Many of these preachers were very devout and godly men. They had good judgment, strong native sense, and exerted a great influence over the slaves, which was highly appreciated by their masters. They also gratified in a measure the religious instincts of the slaves, by officiating at their weddings and funerals. One of the largest, most orderly, and impressive funeral processions that I have ever witnessed, was that of an old negro preacher at Lexington, Kentucky, who had been the pastor of a large colored church in that city for many years. It was upon a Sabbath afternoon, during a meeting of the Synod of Kentucky, which I was attending. Hundreds of slaves came in from the surrounding country, and it was estimated that there were from two to three thousand in the procession. Nearly every family-carriage in the city and the surrounding country was in the line, occupied by the "family servants." These carriages were sent by the owners, as their tribute to the old preacher for his great and good influence over their slaves. The most of the men marched some four or six abreast, with slow and solemn tread, and that silent awe to which their natures are so susceptible in the presence of death. I knew another negro preacher, and often heard him address his people, for whom I had the profoundest respect. He was a devout and saintly man, and his dignified port and bearing were those of a born gentleman. He was often engaged the whole week "attending masons." I have often met him as he was driving a horse, sitting upon a wagon-load of mortar, thoroughly bespattered, and received from him a bow so easy, dignified, and graceful, that many a Governor and Congressman that I have known might well covet his distinguished bearing. Upon one occasion I heard him preach a sermon to his congregation, enforcing the duty of keeping their hearts pure and free from all evil thoughts, when he abruptly broke forth: "But you say, 'I can't, I can't. These bad thoughts come to me, and I can't help it.' I know you can't help it," said he, "and I know, too, that you can't help the birds dying over your heads; but you can help their building nests in your ha'r" (hair). The public political, theological, and other discussions, that I have already described in this volume, developed a love of religious controversy in the Southwest such as I have never known among any other people.