Boston (continued)—The Old South—Unitarianism, and Connection between Church and State—A Welsh Service in an "Upper Room"—Laura Bridgman and the Wedding Ring—Oliver Caswell—Departure from Boston—John Todd and his Family—His Congregationalism—Albany and the Delevan House—Journey to Utica—Remsen and the Welsh People—Dogs made to churn, and Horses to saw Wood.

On Sabbath morning the 11th of April I preached for the Rev. Mr. Blagden, in the Old South Church. This is a large old-fashioned square building, having two galleries, one above the other, on three of its sides. It is rich in historical recollections. Here Whitfield preached. Here patriotic meetings were held even before Faneuil Hall was built; and here the British troops were quartered at the time of the Revolutionary War. Here, too, the lamp of truth was kept feebly burning when all around had sunk into darkness and heresy. At the commencement of this century, the ministry in all the other Congregational Churches in Boston had become Unitarian. In the Old South, however, there were a few people, eight in number, who formed a "Society for Religious Improvement." They could not at first pray together; they only read the Scriptures and conversed on religious subjects. But they grew in wisdom, fervour, and zeal, and were eventually the means, not only of reviving religion in the Old South, but also of giving an impulse in Boston which is felt to this day. Church after church on orthodox principles has been instituted, till there are in Boston more than a dozen large and vigorous churches of the Congregational order; and the Old South, the honoured "mother of churches," has had her "youth renewed like the eagles."

But how came Congregationalism to be so deteriorated? It was owing to its having been made the State religion. All were at first taxed for its exclusive support. This was felt to be unjust and oppressive, and it brought the favoured system into bad repute. Then a modification of the law was adopted, and the citizens had their choice of systems, but were taxed for the support of some system or other. This provision, likewise, began ere long to be felt as unjust towards those who did not wish to maintain any system, or at least not by taxation. This law, moreover, gave a virtual support to Unitarianism. "This," says the Rev. Mr. Button of New Haven, "has been more fully illustrated in Massachusetts than in Connecticut. The repeal of the law for the compulsory support of religion in that commonwealth has proved a severe blow to Unitarianism."

After the morning service at the Old South, we turned in to see Park-street Church, another Congregational place of worship, which for the following reason I was curious to enter. A few years ago a coloured gentleman of respectability instructed a friend to purchase for him a pew in that church. That no objection to the sale might arise from any neglect of decorations, the new proprietor had it beautifully lined and cushioned. It was made to look as handsome as any other pew in the church; and, when it was finished, the gentleman and his family one Sabbath morning took possession. This gave rise to great anxiety and alarm. Niggers in the body of the church! What was to be done? In the course of the following week a meeting was held, and a deputation appointed to wait upon the gentleman, and to tell him that it was against "public feeling" for him to occupy the pew in question. The gentleman remonstrated, and pointed out the injustice, after he had purchased the pew, and incurred the expense of fitting it up, of not being allowed to enjoy it. To this the deputation replied that they were sorry for any inconvenience or loss he might sustain, but public feeling must be respected, and the pew must be given up. Against this decision there was no appeal; and the gentleman was obliged to let the pew be resold for such a price as the white aristocracy thought fit to give. On the principle that "prevention is better than cure," they have, I am told, in Boston introduced into every new trust-deed a clause that will effectually guard against the recurrence of such a calamity. But so "smartly" has it been done that, were you to examine those deeds, you would look in vain for a single syllable having the remotest apparent bearing on either black or coloured people, and you would be ready to suspect that the whole was a mere invention of the Abolitionists. Indeed, Mrs. "Bliss," at the "Saints' Rest," assured me in the most positive manner that such was the case, and that the whole of the story I have related had not the shadow of a foundation in truth. But she might as well have attempted to deny the existence of Bunker's Hill or Boston Bay. This was only a specimen of the manner in which the colour-hating party attempt to throw dust in the eyes of strangers, and deny the existence of the most palpable facts. But how runs the conservative clause which led to this digression? It is expressed in words to this effect,—That no sale of any pew is valid if two-thirds or three-fourths (I forget which) of the congregation should object to the purchaser! This was quite enough. Those against whom it was directed need not be even mentioned. It was well known that with this clause no coloured man could ever own a pew. Public feeling would piously take hold of this key, and turn it against him.

In the afternoon I heard the Rev. E.N. Kirk. The church was new and beautiful, the congregation large, and the sermon good.

In the evening I preached in Welsh to about 70 people, in a small "upper room." It was my first attempt for many years to deliver a sermon in that language. Nor should I have made it, but for the peculiarity of the case. The parties were representatives of four different denominations in Wales, had formed themselves into a kind of Evangelical Alliance, and had no stated minister, but gladly availed themselves of the occasional services of any minister of evangelical views who might be passing through! Poor and few as they were, they insisted upon my receiving towards travelling expenses four dollars and a half. This was not done at the Old South, though the pastor told me they were "burdened with wealth;" nor was it done in any other instance in the American churches.

The next day the Rev. Mr. Blagden accompanied us to see the Massachusetts Asylum for the Blind. Here we were introduced to Laura Bridgman, who since she was about two years of age has been deaf, dumb, and blind. Her senses of taste and smell are also impaired. She is 18 years of age, and has been in the institution ten years. Every avenue of communication with the soul was closed—but one. The sense of touch remained; and by means of that they have contrived to reach the mind, to inform it, to instruct it, to refine and elevate it. We found her exactly corresponding to the beautiful description given of her by Dr. Howe, who is at the head of the institution. That description has so often been published in England that I will not transcribe it. Her figure is genteel, slender, and well-proportioned. She appears to be lively, sensitive, and benevolent. The place where the bright blue eyes once sparkled that are now quenched in darkness is covered with a piece of green ribbon. Conversation with her is carried on by means of the "speaker's" rapid fingering on her right hand. It was in this manner that we were introduced. She shook hands with us very affectionately, —taking hold of both hands of Mrs. Davies, and feeling all about her head, her dress, and her arms. In doing so she felt the wedding-ring, and wanted to know by means of her interpreter—her governess—why the English ladies wore a ring on that finger. (The American ladies do not observe the custom.) On my wife telling her it was to show they were married, she seemed very much amused and astonished. Here it was very interesting to observe the progress of a thought from ourselves to the governess, and from her to that "little, white, whispering, loving, listening" hand that received and communicated all ideas, until the brightened countenance and the lovely smile showed it had reached the soul. She felt a deep sympathy for Ireland, and wished to know what the English were doing for the starving inhabitants. We told her; and soon after we saw by the public papers that, subsequently to our visit, she had done some needle-work, which was sold, and the proceeds appropriated at her request to purchase a barrel of flour for that unhappy land. "How," exclaims Elihu Burritt, "she plied at morning, noon, and night, those fingers! wonderful fingers! It seemed that the very finger of God had touched them with miraculous susceptibilities of fellowship with the spirit world and that around her. She put them upon the face of His written word, and felt them thrilled to her heart with the pulsation of His great thoughts of love to man. And then she felt for other's woe. Poor child! God bless her richly! She reached out her short arms to feel after some more unhappy than she in the condition of this life; some whose fingers' ends had not read such sweet paragraphs of heaven's mercy as hers had done; some who had not seen, heard, and felt what her dumb, silent, deaf fingers had brought into her heart of joy, hope, and love. Think of that, ye young eyes and ears that daily feast upon the beauty and melody of this outer world! Within the atmosphere of her quick sensibilities, she felt the presence of those whose cup was full of affliction. She put her fingers, with their throbbing sympathies, upon the lean bloodless faces of the famishing children in Ireland, and her sightless eyes filled with the tears that the blind may shed for griefs they cannot see. And then she plied the needle and those fingers, and quickened their industry by placing them anon upon the slow sickly pulse of want that wasted her kind at noonday across the ocean. Days, and nights too—for day and night were alike to her wakeful sympathies—and weeks she wrought on with her needle. And then the embroidery of those fingers was sold to the merchants. Would it had been sold to England's Queen, to be worn by the young princesses on days of state! It was sold; and its purchase price was a barrel of flour, instead of a country's harvest, which it was well worth. And that barrel of flour was stowed away without other private mark than that the recording Angel put upon it, among the thousands that freighted the Jamestown on her recent mission of brotherly love to Ireland. Laura Bridgman and her barrel of flour should teach the world a lesson worth the woes of one year's famine." Laura favoured us with her autograph on a slip of paper, which we shall always carefully preserve as a memorial of a visit to one of the greatest wonders of the age.

In another room we were introduced to Oliver Caswell. He is about the same age as Laura, and similarly afflicted, but has been in the institution only six years. His teacher told him, in the same finger-language which was used with Laura, that we came from British Guiana, and desired him to find out the place on the large globe before him. This globe was made for the use of the blind, having upon it the countries and their names in relievo. Oliver turned it round, and felt with his fingers until they soon rested on the required spot, when he seemed greatly delighted. His attainments are not so remarkable as those of Laura, for he has not been so long under tuition; but his progress is highly encouraging.

At 4 P.M. we left Boston by railway for Albany,—fare 5 dollars each. We rested, however, at Springfield for the night, and that in the most comfortable hotel we had met with in the States. The next day we moved on to Pittsfield, where we arrived at half-past 11. Finding that we might get off from that train, and go by another in three or four hours' time, we availed ourselves of the opportunity of calling upon the Rev. Dr. Todd, the author of "Lectures to Children," "The Student's Guide," &c. Instead of the prim, neat, little man we had always imagined him to be, we found him tall, coarse, slovenly, and unshaven; a man of 46 years of age; hair of an iron-grey, rough and uncombed; features large; cheek-bones prominent; and the straps of his trowsers unbuttoned, and flapping about his slippers. But, under this unpromising exterior, we discerned a soul of great intelligence, frankness, and brotherly kindness. Mrs. Todd has been a woman of great beauty, and, though she has brought up a large family of children, is still fresh and comely. Their eldest daughter is 19 years of age; and John, to whom the "Lectures to Children" were dedicated, is now 14 years of age. The Doctor's insane mother, for whose sake he was first led to employ his pen, has been dead for some years. His desire to visit England is very strong. He had been appointed by the churches of Massachusetts to visit those of England last year in the character of a delegate; but the means of meeting the expenses of such a delegation were not provided, and consequently the visit was not paid. It is worthy of observation that the Doctor's books have been sold in England far more extensively than in America; but from the English editions he receives no profit, and even from the American ones very little. As it may be the first time that English readers hear of John Todd as Doctor Todd, and as there is an impression that our American friends bestow their literary honours too freely and indiscriminately,—which, indeed, is true in reference to some scores of institutions,—nothing being easier than to obtain a D.D.,—I would just observe that this applies not to the New England Colleges. They are very chary of such honours, and only confer that of D.D. on ministers of long standing and high attainments. In the case of Mr. Todd it was most deservedly bestowed.

Pittsfield is but a small town, of about 5,000 inhabitants. The Governor of Massachusetts resided there, and was a deacon of a Baptist Church. Dr. Todd presides over a Congregational Church. To the principles of Congregationalism he is devoutly attached. While others regard Presbyterianism and Congregationalism as matters of mere geographical boundary, Todd could never be prevailed upon, even by the most advantageous offers, to do the same. He said he had nailed his flag to the mast, and would never abandon it. "I regard Congregationalism," said he to me, "as a sort of a working-jacket: with it on I can work with anybody, in any place, and in any way." With this great and good man we exceedingly enjoyed a homely dinner and a few hours' converse. In coming out, I observed before the door, half-covered with snow, a beautiful model of the Temple of Theseus. This was the work of the Doctor's own hands.

At 3-1/2 P.M. we left for Albany. At the station, before crossing the Hudson, we observed in large letters the ominous words "Beware of pickpockets!" On reaching the city we went to the "Delevan House," so called after Mr. Delevan, who has done so much for the advancement of temperance in America. The house is his property, but he does not conduct it. He lives there as a lodger; and I was permitted to spend the evening in conversation with him. The house is the largest temperance hotel in the world. It will accommodate about 400 guests. Those who keep it are religious people, and have a public family-worship every evening, usually conducted by the master of the house; but if a minister of any denomination be present, he is asked to officiate. A bell is rung, and all who feel disposed to unite in the worship assemble in a large room. On this occasion it was my privilege to conduct the service; and in such a place, and under such circumstances, it was to me an exercise of peculiar interest. A hymn too was sung, and well sung,—the tune being led by the master of the house, aided by his family.

The next morning, at half-past 7, we set off by railway to Utica, a distance of 94 miles, which we did not accomplish in less than 6-1/2 hours, making an average of less than 15 miles an hour, and for which we paid 2-1/2 dollars, or 10s. 6d. This journey led us through the valley of the Mohawk, and that river was for the most part our constant companion. The railway and the river seemed to be wedded to each other,—the former conforming to all the whims and windings, and turnings and twistings of the latter.

Utica is a small city, of about 14,000 inhabitants. Its progress has been but slow. The houses are painted white, and appear neat and comfortable. I was struck with the immense number of them that were erected with their gable end to the street, and with a small portico supported by two fluted columns. A large portion of the inhabitants are Welsh, who have here four or five places of worship. The Rev. James Griffiths, a man of great piety and worth, is the minister of the Welsh Independents. At his house we were most kindly entertained during our stay. On the Sabbath I preached for him twice in Welsh. The following week we were taken to Remsen, eighteen miles off, to see the Rev. Mr. Everett, whose farewell sermon on leaving Wales I had heard when quite a boy,—and the Rev. Morris Roberts, to whom I had bidden adieu in Liverpool sixteen years before. It was delightful to meet these honoured brethren in their adopted home, after the lapse of so many years. Remsen is quite a Welsh settlement; and these men both preside over Welsh churches there. Mr. Everett is the editor of a Welsh Monthly Magazine. In that periodical, as well as in his ministrations, he has been unflinching in his denunciations of slavery. This has exposed him to cruel persecutions. There are about 70,000 Welsh people in the United States who worship in their own language. At Remsen I had to deliver two addresses on the results of emancipation in the West Indies. On our return to Utica, the friend who drove us happened incidentally to mention that in that country they make the dogs churn! "The dogs churn!" I said, "Yes," said he; "and I dare say they have a churning-machine so worked at this house: let us call and see." It was a farm-house. At the door about half-a-dozen chubby little children, with fine rosy cheeks, were assembled to see the strangers. I began to speak in English to the eldest, a boy about 10 years of age; but the lad stared! He understood not a word I said.

Though born and so far brought up there, he knew nothing but Welsh! We were gratified with an inspection of the machine for churning. It was worked very much on the same principle as a treadmill, and exceedingly disliked by the poor dog. Goats are sometimes made to perform the same service. In several instances, we saw horses in like manner made to saw wood, and admired the ingenuity of our cousins in turning to account every particle of power they possess. "What is the difference," said Dr. Beecher once to a ship-captain, "between an English sailor and a Yankee one?" The answer was, "An English sailor can do a thing very well in one way, but the Yankee can do it in half-a-dozen ways."