and he to send to my "lodgings" for me. We both kept our appointment.
The number of scholars was about 100. This effort to bring the Germans
under a right religious influence is very laudable; for there are about
10,000 of that people in Cincinnati. One quarter of the city is
entirely German. You see nothing else on the sign-boards; you hear
nothing else in the streets. Of these Germans the greater part are
Roman Catholics.

After visiting the school, I found myself in time to attend one of the
chapels of the coloured people at 3 P.M. A medical student, whom I had
met in the morning, and again at the German school, accompanied me. He
was a New Englander, and a thorough anti-slavery man. When we got to
the chapel--a Baptist one--they were at prayer. Walking in softly, we
entered a pew right in the midst of them. The minister--a mulatto of
about thirty years of age, with a fine intelligent eye--was very simple
in dress, and unostentatious in manner. His language, too, was
appropriate and correct. He was evidently a man of good common sense.
His text was Psalm li. l2, l3. He referred very properly to the
occasion on which the Psalm was composed, and drew from the text a
large mass of sound practical instruction. The chapel (capable of
containing about 150 people) was only half-full. Before the sermon, I
had observed a very old negro, in a large shabby camlet cloak and a
black cap, ascending the pulpit-stairs. I supposed that, being dull of
hearing, he had taken that position that he might better listen to the
service. However, when the sermon was over, this patriarchal-looking
black man rose to pray; and he prayed "like a bishop," with astonishing
correctness and fluency! He was formerly a slave in Kentucky, and was
at this time about eighty years of age. They call him "Father Watkins."
At the close I introduced myself to him and to the minister. They both
expressed regret that they had not had me up in the pulpit, to tell