Easily attracted
to the impressive ceremonies of the Church of
Rome; but after witnessing the activity of their
devotions, and observing how anxious they are
to take a conspicuous and a leading part in all
religious services, it seemed to me that the free
black of the south would take more naturally to
Methodism than to any other form of
Christianity.
The appointment of local preachers would be
especially acceptable to the negro, as he would
then be permitted to have ministers of his own
color, and of his own neighborhood, to lead the
meetings; while the Roman Catholic priest
would probably treat him more like a child, and
would therefore exercise a strong discipline over
him.
In one of their places of worship, at my
request, a New York lady, well skilled in rapid
writing and familiar with the negro vernacular,
reported verbatim the negro preacher's sermon.
The text was the parable of the ten virgins; and
as the preacher went on, he said: "Five ob dem
war wise an' five of dem war foolish. De wise jes
gone an' dun git dar lamps full up ob oil and
git rite in and see de bridegoom; an' de foolish
dey sot dem rite down on de stool ob do-noting,
an' dar dey sot till de call cum; den dey run,
pick up der ole lamps and try to push door in,
but de Lord say to dem, Git out dar! you jes git
out dar!' an' shut door rite in dar face.
"My brudders and my sisters, yer must fill de
lamps wid de gospel an' de edication ob Moses,
fur Moses war a larned man, an' edication is de
mos estaminable blessin' a pusson kin hab in
dis world.
"Hole-on to de gospel! Ef you see dat de
flag am tore, get hole somewhar, keep a grabblin
until ye git hole ob de stick, an' nebah gib up de
stick, but grabble, grabble till ye die; for dough
yer sins be as black as scarlet, dey shall be whit
as snow."
The sermon over, the assembled negroes then
sung in slow measure:
"Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet-tar be-a-lieve -
Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet-tar be-a-lieve -
Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet-tar be-a-lieve -
I'll git home to heav-en when I die.
Sweet heav-en am-a-my-am,
Sweet heav-en am-a-my-am,
Sweet heav-en am-a-my-am,
I'll git home to heav-en when I die.
Lord wish-ed I was in heav-en,
Fur to see my mudder when she enter,
Fur to see her tri-als an' long white robes:
She'll shine like cristul in de sun.
