At 2 P.M. we left with regret this delightful little city, and shall always cherish a grateful remembrance of the Christian kindness and hospitality with which we were treated. In all the States we met with nothing to be compared, in all that was pleasing, to the two cities of Connecticut—New Haven and Hartford.
In passing, on our way to Boston, through Worcester in Massachusetts, I cast a hurried glance at every place that looked like a smithy, wondering whether it was there that Elihu Burritt had wielded his forge-hammer and scattered his "sparks from the anvil."
We reached Boston at 9 P.M., and stopped at the United States Hotel. The next day I called to deliver notes of introduction to several of the Boston divines. Among them was one to the Rev. Seth Bliss, at the Tract Depository. Having glanced at the note, he very hurriedly said to me, "Ah, how do you do?—very glad to see you!—where are you stopping at?"—"At the United States Hotel, sir." "Oh," he replied all in a breath, "you had better come to my house,—it'll be cheaper for you,—they'll charge you 2 dollars a day at the United States Hotel,—I only charge a dollar and a half,—I have a room at liberty now. Besides, if you want to get acquainted with ministers, you can't do better than come to my house. In fact, the wags call my house the 'Saints' Rest,'—because, I suppose, they see I sell the book here." The conjuncture of "Bliss" and "Saints' Rest!" Who could refuse? We went. But I will not tell how far the accommodation tended to realize our conceptions of those beatitudes.
On the morrow we went to see Faneuil Hall, the "Cradle of Liberty." A notice was up at the door to say the key was to be found at such a store in the neighbourhood. I asked for the key; had it without a single question being put; went, opened the door myself, and staid as long as we pleased. There was no hanger-on, to try to squeeze a fee out of us, as would have been the case in a country I know.
I then went and called without any introduction upon William Lloyd Garrison, from whom I received the most kind attentions. He accompanied me to the celebrated Bunker's Hill, a scene of dreadful encounter between those who ought never to have been foes. A column of 200 feet high now stands upon the spot. It is unfortunate that the Americans have so many mementos, both natural and artificial, of their struggles with us. They tend to perpetuate an undesirable feeling.
LETTER XXXIV.
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.