ushnell and his Opinions--The Mother Church and its Burying-Ground
--The New Cemetery--Prejudice against Colour--Mrs. Sigourney--Departure
from Hartford--Worcester and Elihu Burritt--Boston--The Rev. Seth
Bliss--The Cradle of Liberty--Mr. Garrison--Bunker's Hill.

Having seen the Charter Oak, let us proceed in company with the Rev.
Mr. Gallaudet to the "Retreat for the Insane," of which he is chaplain.
The place is delightfully situated, and severity of treatment carefully
avoided. As we pass from room to room, we are very gravely and formally
introduced, as strangers in the country, to the inmates. Here we are
introduced to a tall muscular old lady, who has her cap fantastically
trimmed with bits of ribbon of various gaudy colours. With an air of
assumed politeness and dignity, she asks me if I have been to
Washington. On receiving a reply in the negative, she expresses great
regret, and inquires if I have seen "Dan Webster," and, without waiting
for an answer, hurries on, "Fine fellow Dan,--some solid timbers about
Dan,--indeed, the Yankees altogether are not to be sniffed at." I
nodded the most entire assent to all she said.

We enter another room, and are introduced to a curious groupe. One
woman has tied her mouth up with a handkerchief, to prevent her talking
too much. She tells us that at first she had tied it over her ears, to
prevent her hearing another woman's voice, who is constantly talking to
herself, and making her head ache; but that she found her own tongue
then going faster than anybody else's. She had therefore adopted the
_wise_ plan of tying her own mouth. She is eloquent in the praises of
the institution, and calls it "A blessed Retreat--a blessed Retreat."

We move on, and are introduced to a fine-looking woman--the wife of a
respectable merchant in New York. She looks wild, and shakes her head
violently. She pours upon us a flood of questions, most of which relate
to her own husband, such as--When did we see him last?--How was
he?--What message did he send to her? &c. Turning to my wife, she said,
"You had better have staid at home, and never come to this country.
This country _was_ once a great country: it is so no longer, and all
through that man,"--pointing to Mr. Gallaudet. "Oh that man! what a
villain he is! People out of doors don't know him; and," looking at
myself, "you can't do this country better service than to make known
everywhere the real character of that man. Here he keeps me a