Thursday.—Mr. Hanson drove me to Cambridge, to see the Universities. This is a clean, well-built town, with 8000 or 9000 inhabitants. The expense of education is 300 dollars; and if that cannot be paid, the students are educated free, subject to instructing others a little. There is no barrier here to the poorest man's son becoming the President, as free-schools abound. We then drove to Mount Auburn, a cemetery delightfully situated about five miles from Boston. They pay 4000 dollars for a lot for a family burying-place. Here some eminent men are interred. There are some beautiful walks over this one-hundred-acres plot of ground. We then drove round by Charlestown, a place of 10,000 inhabitants, where the Bostonians reside, well-situated; and so on to Bunker-hill Monument, where the battle was fought in 1775, when General James Warren fell: it is a very substantial mark of Jonathan conquering John. Bull. I then visited the Massachusetts State-house: the Congress-house and Representatives are very commodious. I ascended the top, which gives a most commanding view of the whole city: it was very clear, and the view was most extensive. Like New York, it is upon an island, surrounded (except a few yards) with the River Charles and the Ocean. Home to dinner, and gave my friends T. Cochrane and Mr. Schofield two bottles of champagne, it being my last day in the States. We then proceeded to Perkins's Institution for the Blind, managed by my fellow-passenger, Dr. Howe. We saw the gifted Laura Bridgman, whose biography I give elsewhere.[[A]] She is an interesting-looking girl, fifteen years old, deaf, dumb, blind, and no smell: still Providence makes her contented and happy: she can read and write, and understand geography with her fingers, and is blessed with the knowledge of Divine grace. It was truly interesting and gratifying to see the blind girls read and write and work, all so clean and neat in their persons, and apparently happy. Also the boys are instructed in a similar way, and, when ready, put out to some trade; and, if no master can be found, they instruct them in the institution to make mattresses, chair-bottoms, &c., several of whom I saw working. We then visited South Boston State Hospital for the Insane, at the head of which is Dr. Stedman, who conducts it admirably on the enlightened principles of conciliation and kindness, and evinces a confidence and apparent trust even in mad people. Each ward in this institution is shaped like a long gallery or hall; and, as we walked along, the patients flocked round us unrestrained, with all sorts of stories. I had ten minutes' talk with an elderly lady, who had a great many scraps of finery, of gauze, &c., which gave her a strange appearance: she fancied she was the hostess of the mansion. Another I talked to said she was Queen of the States. Another poor fellow, gentlemanly in appearance, said it was a hard run between him and Prince Albert who should have the Queen of England. He had written and received several letters from her. I discovered they had all some weak point, and the doctor gave me the cue. I felt quite at ease amongst them: nearly all are unrestrained; and, strange to say, they never talk to each other, or molest each other in any way. We then visited the House of Correction for the State, where about three-fourths of the expenses are paid by the prisoners' industry. It is a well-managed prison, with strict discipline: no conversation allowed, and all kept at work, both men and women: the latter are very bad to manage. Comfort and cleanliness are very apparent. We then visited the Orphan Asylum and House of Reformation for young offenders, and for neglected and indigent boys who have committed no crimes, but perhaps soon would if they were not taken from the hungry streets and sent here: this is called the Boylston School. There is the House of Industry for old, helpless paupers: these words are painted on the walls—"Self-government, quietude, and peace are blessings." This was a clean, neat place, with a plant or two on the window-sill, a row of crockery upon the shelf, or small display of coloured prints upon the whitewashed wall. We have no such sights in our unions.

I left South Boston much gratified with all I had seen; but pleasure must have an alloy. My companion drove up against a cart in the dark, broke both shafts, the horse kicked the vehicle all to pieces, and how we escaped is wonderful. I got my knee bruised, and that was all. I retired to rest, grateful to Providence for my narrow escape.

[A]

See Appendix.

Friday, and last day in America.—Saw the famed Dr. Channing's Unitarian chapel; and witnessed such a demonstration the previous night, with at least 10,000 boys, non-electors, parading the streets with torches, crying "Clay, of Ashland, near Lexington, Kentucky!" I really feel that I am leaving Boston with regret: I never was more pleased with any town, both in a business and social point of view. I have many kind and intelligent friends that I shall leave with regret. The Bostonians are more English in idea, smart to a degree, and well situated for commerce. The town and suburbs abound with charitable institutions of every description; and every article of living is half the price it is in England. I visited Famenil Hall, the oldest building in the town, and famed in American history.

In conclusion, my feelings prompt me to acknowledge, with a deep sense of gratitude to Messrs. Overend and Gurney, the very sympathetic and high-character letter they gave me to Messrs. Prime, Ward, and King, of New York, as I had taken the journey to recruit my health. From that letter emanated others to every town I visited, which at once placed me in communication with the most intelligent of men. I am further bound to add, contrary to the general opinion formed in England, that I met with the most open, frank, communicative people I ever came in contact with; and further I am bound to add, I frequently had occasion to blush for my own ignorance, both about Europe and America. To use a vulgar expression, they are a wide-awake people. Their cheap publications, their thirst for knowledge, and their naturally quick perceptions, place them above the level in society. That America must rise, and become a great country, is my earnest wish and belief. I do not like to individualize, but I feel an inward gratitude to many kind and dear friends whom T made in my short sojourn, whose study it was to make me happy, and my journey a pleasing one.

At one o'clock I paid my bill, and proceeded to East Boston, on board the Acadia; and set sail exactly at two o'clock, P.M., for England, with 25 passengers.

On leaving the harbour, on the right, we passed several small islands, and the Liverpool light and Dorchester heights, where the Orphan Asylum is situated on a lofty eminence. On the left we passed Lynn and Salem, and steamed it along in good style during the night.

Saturday morning, the 2nd November.—Spoke the Hibernia at eight o'clock, A.M.: about 130 passengers, all on deck, with whom we exchanged cheers as she passed. I was struck with the warlike appearance she had: whether it has been contemplated or not, I discovered that all these mailsteamers are admirably adapted for war: all they require are port-holes for cannon. They are made to Admiralty order, and cost £60,000 each. At six P.M. we passed the Devil's Limb, a rock close by Seal Island, where the Colombia was lost. The coast is dangerous between Boston and Halifax. The captain was up both nights.