ge from New Orleans had thus occupied
twelve days, during which time we had been boarded and lodged, as well
as conveyed over a space of 1,550 miles, for 12 dollars each, or one
dollar per diem! It was the cheapest, and (apart from the
companionships) the most pleasant mode of travelling we had ever
experienced. As the boat stayed but a couple of hours at Cincinnati, we
had to land without delay. Being a stranger in a strange land, I
inquired for the Congregational minister, and was told that his name
was Boynton. In perambulating the streets in search of his house, I was
pleased to see but one shop open. It was a tailor's, and, as I
afterwards learned, belonged to a Jew, who closed it on Saturdays, the
law of the State compelling all to close their shops one day in the
week. In every street, we were struck with the glorious liberty enjoyed
by the pigs. On all hands, the swinish multitude were seen luxuriating
in unrestricted freedom. Mr. Boynton, who received us kindly, did not
know of any place where we could be accommodated with private board and
lodging, but promised to make inquiry that evening. He was a man of
about forty years of age, wearing on the Sabbath, and even in the
pulpit (as most American ministers do), a black neckerchief, and
shirt-collar turned down over it. That night we had to go to an hotel,
and were recommended to the Denison House, which we found pretty cheap
and comfortable. But the American hotels are not, in point of comfort,
to be compared for a moment to those of Old England. My wife was too
tired to go out in the evening; and unwilling for my own part to close
the Sabbath without going to some place of public worship, I thought I
would try to find the sanctuary of "my brethren--my kinsmen according
to the flesh"--the Welsh. Following the directions I had received, I
arrived at the top of a certain street, when I heard the sound of
sacred song; but I could not tell whether it was Welsh or not, nor
exactly whence it came. As I stood listening, an overgrown boy came by,
of whom I inquired, "Where does that singing come from?"--"I _guess_ it
comes from a church down below there." "Is it a Welsh Church?"--"I
can't tell, but I _guess_ it is." "Well, then," I rejoined, "I _guess_
I will go and see." I turned, and the youth "guessed" he would follow
me. I got to the door. The singing had not ceased. It _was_ Welsh--the
language in which I had first heard "_Am Geidwad i'r Colledig!_"[1] How
interest