They are
mostly Methodists, that is Wesleyans, or Baptists. He said I should hear
them singing as I passed the doors, and could go in. Poor papa, by this
time, was fit for nothing except to remain quiet, so Thrower and I set
out in the evening, and found, not without some difficulty, an upper
room, brilliantly lighted, over a grocer's warehouse. We went up two
pairs of stairs, and I did so in fear and trembling, remembering what
the odour is when a large dining-room is filled with black waiters: a
sort of sickly, sour smell pervades the room, that makes one hate the
thought, either of dinner, or of the poor niggers themselves. It seems
it is inherent in their skin; to my surprise and satisfaction, however,
we found nothing of the kind in this room, the windows of which had been
well opened beforehand. It was a large, whitewashed apartment, half
filled with blacks.
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.
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