When the General Conference met in the city of Baltimore in 1812, the persistency of the friends of the colored man in pushing his claims showed him not friendless. The colored man, like other men, feels very keenly impositions, and yet we think it is conceded that he is of a religious turn of mind, docile and humble, but has his preferences as clearly as other men. He does not like to be considered a bone of contention, a cat’s-paw, or an intruder. He does like to have his manhood respected. But suppose the above action of the General Conference of 1808 was a mistake, is it not admissible that it was possible to turn the head of the Church in the opposite direction now and then, if even for a time only? It was a perplexing question, indeed; and as the law of the land supported it—for slavery shielded itself behind the venerated Constitution—what more could the Church do, since some conferences were in Massachusetts and some in South Carolina? However, that General Conference declared that under existing circumstances but little, if anything, could be done to abolish human slavery in America outside of political powers; that the Church of God in general, and the Methodist Episcopal Church in particular, could not reach the question as effectively as the civil law. But the civil law had only then begun to take notice of the foul system of slavery in this country. In the despondency of that day and hour—for there was despondency behind the action of that body on the question of slavery—the attention of that General Conference was called to consider the advisability of looking after the interests of “the free people of color.” In some States the manumission of slaves was prohibited, except they were at once moved out of that State. In cases where this was not done some complaint would usually be lodged against them, and they were incarcerated in prison, and, “as a penalty for violation of the law, were sold again into slavery by sheriff’s sale.” Colonization in Africa was seemingly the only hope. Hence, when a report was presented to the General Conference from the American Colonization Society, it was commended to the generous public. Such cases as that of Dred Scott discouraged many people who wished to manumit their slaves from doing so, for fear they might be re-enslaved. The General Conference declared the idea of colonizing the “free people of color” in Africa as a wise measure in the right direction. What less could the Church have done for the race? What less ought it to have done? When the General Conference of 1816 met, the question of slavery, and the proper recognition of the colored members of the Church came up for consideration. The Church must have seen by that time that a mistake had been made by refusing to grant its colored members a separate conference. Not that the Church had given colored members of intelligence “cause for complaint,” but that it did not sooner see that an insidious foe was in its very vitals, stealing away