only, are
universally allowed to be slaves. We made slavery, and slavery makes the
prejudice. No christian, who questions his own conscience, can justify
himself in indulging the feeling. The removal of this prejudice is not
a matter of opinion--it is a matter of _duty_. We have no right to
palliate a feeling, sinful in itself, and highly injurious to a large
number of our fellow-beings. Let us no longer act upon the narrow-minded
idea, that we must always continue to do wrong, because we have so long
been in the habit of doing it. That there is no _necessity_ for the
prejudice is shown by facts. In England, it exists to a much less degree
than it does here. If a respectable colored person enters a church
there, the pews are readily opened to him; if he appears at an inn, room
is made for him at the table, and no laughter, or winking, reminds
him that he belongs to an outcast race. A highly respectable English
gentleman residing in this country has often remarked that nothing
filled him with such utter astonishment as our prejudice with regard to
color. There is now in old England a negro, with whose name, parentage,
and history, I am well acquainted, who was sold into West Indian slavery
by his New-England master; (I know _his_ name.) The unfortunate negro
became free by the kindness of an individual, and has now a handsome
little property and the command of a vessel. He must take care not to
come into the ports of our Southern republics!--The anecdote of Prince
Saunders is well known; but it will bear repeating. He called upon an
American family, then residing in London. The fashionable breakfast hour
was very late, and the family were still seated at the table. The lady
fidgetted between the contending claims of politeness and prejudice. At
last, when all but herself had risen from the table, she said, as if
struck by a sudden thought, "Mr. Saunders, I forgot to ask if you had
breakfasted." "I thank you, madam," replied the colored gentleman; "but
I have engaged to breakfast with the Prince Regent this morning."

Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. Brougham have often been seen in the streets of
London, walking arm in arm with people of color. The same thing is true
of Brissot, La Fayette, and several other distinguished Frenchmen. In
this city, I never but once saw such an instance: When the Philadelphia
company were here last summer, I met one of the officers walking arm in
arm with a fine-looking black musician. The circumsta