with hope. He sees the children of the white man engaged in employment;
and he trusts that there is a door open to his boy, to get an honest
living, and become a useful member of society. But, when he comes to
the workshop with his child, he finds a bolt there. But, even suppose
that he can get this first bolt removed, he finds other bars. He can't
work. Let him be ever so skilled in mechanics, up starts prejudice, and
says, 'I won't work in the shop if you do.' Here he is scourged by
prejudice, and has to go back, and sink down to some of the employments
which white men leave for the most degraded. He hears of the death of a
child from home, and he goes in a stage or a steam-boat. His money is
received, but he is scourged there by prejudice. If he is sick, he can
have no bed, he is driven on deck: money will not buy for him the
comforts it gets for all who have not his complexion. He turns to some
friend among the white men. Perhaps that white man had sat at his table
at home, but he does not resist prejudice here. He says, 'Submit. 'Tis
an ordinance of God,--you must be humble.' Sir, I have felt this. As a
minister, I have been called to pass often up and down the North River
in steam-boats. Many a night I have walked the deck, and not been
allowed to lie down in a bed. Prejudice would even turn money to dross
when it was offered for these comforts by a coloured man. Thus
prejudice scourges us from the table; it scourges us from the cabin,
from the stage-coach, from the bed. Wherever we go, it has for us
bolts, bars, and rods."

And now let us attend the speaker's funeral. Professor Whipple will be
our guide. As we proceed, crowds of coloured people are hastening in
the same direction from all quarters. We are at the house. But so great
is the throng that it is impossible to get in. Here, however, comes Dr.
Cox. "Make room for Dr. Cox!"--"Make room for Dr. Cox!" is now heard on
every hand. A path is opened for the great man, and we little men slip