Amid the religious training received from that part of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, that trained them at all, did not appear anything different from the system of slavery in vogue, save the promise of an eternal Sabbath. It is true a colored membership was reported by the Methodist Episcopal Church, South; but this did not mean that the colored people within that Church were permitted to worship God in their own congregations, or that there were any colored pastors or class-leaders among that membership. If slavery had continued, the condition of the colored man religiously could never have become better. Just how—unless force of circumstances played a part in the drama—a brotherly feeling could have arisen or existed in the bosom of the poor colored man under that _régime_, we can not, for the life of us, surmise. But all that was ended with the war, and still there was but little, if any, change. The withdrawals at first opportunity of colored people from the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, meant something. The Methodist Episcopal Church, South, was then, at any rate, unwilling to educate the colored man. In proof of the last assertion, we turn to page 148 of Dr. A. G. Haygood’s book, “Our Brother in Black.” The following, published in 1881 by this leading philosopher and clergyman in the Methodist Episocopal Church, South, is as significant as sound. He says: “If the work of educating the Negroes of the South is ever to be carried on satisfactorily, if ever the best results are to be accomplished, then _Southern white people must take part in the work of teaching Negro schools_. There have been some very sad and hurtful mistakes in the relations assumed by most of us of the South to this whole matter, and especially in the fact that, with very rare exceptions, our people have steadfastly refused to teach Negro children, especially since they were made free, for love or money. They have recoiled from Negro schools as if there were personal degradation in teaching them. Perhaps the state of things that existed at the South for a full decade after the war, and for which Southern people were not alone responsible—a state of things that made it impracticable for Southern white men and women to teach Negro schools—was inevitable. But so it was; they could not do it without ‘losing caste.’ As I am trying to state facts honestly, I should add, the prevailing sentiment of the South would not even now look favorably upon such teachers; but I must say we are growing in sense as well as grace on this subject.”