On the 28th I left Boston for the beautiful town of Worcester, about forty miles distant, on the principal line of railway to New York, where I had the pleasure of visiting, at his own residence, my friend, Cyrus P. Grosvenor, one of the delegates to the Anti-Slavery Convention last year.  There are here a considerable number of sincere abolitionists, of whom we met a small company in the evening, in a room used as the Friends’ meeting house.  I gave them a brief account of the state of the anti-slavery cause in other parts of the world.  In company with John M. Earle, editor of one of the Worcester papers, with whom I had formed a previous acquaintance at the Yearly Meeting, I also called on the Governor of the State of Massachusetts, who resides in this place.  We had some friendly conversation, but he seemed cautious on the subject of abolition.  The temperance cause in Worcester has made so much progress that at the three largest and best hotels, which make up nearly one hundred beds each, no intoxicating liquor of any kind is sold.  A people thus willing to carry out their convictions, to the sacrifice of prejudice, appetite, and apparent self-interest, cannot long remain a nation of slave-holders.  In common with the rest of New England, this town is remarkable for the number, size, and beauty of its places of worship.  I calculated, with the aid of a well-informed inhabitant, that if the entire population were to go to a place of worship, at the same hour, in the same day, there would be ample accommodation, and room to spare.  Yet here there is no compulsory tax to build churches, and maintain ministers.  By the efficacy of the voluntary principle alone is this state of things produced.

My dear friend, John G. Whittier returned home from Worcester on account of increased indisposition, while I proceeded alone to New York.  The journey from Boston to the latter city is a remarkably pleasant one.  Leaving Boston at four in the afternoon, we proceed on one of the best railways in the States, at the rate of upwards of twenty miles an hour, through a very beautiful and generally well cultivated country, to the city of Norwich, in the State of Connecticut, where the train arrives about eight in the evening, and the passengers immediately embark on a handsome steamer, for New York, enjoying, as long as daylight lasts, the fine scenery on the banks of the Thames.  The night I went was moonlight; and, after long enjoying the coolness of the evening on deck, the company retired to their berths, and arrived at New York at the seasonable hour of six the following morning.

I remained in New York until the 7th of the Seventh Month (July).  My friends, William Shotwell and wife, had left the city during the hot months, but very kindly placed their town house at my service, and I found the retirement thus at my command both refreshing and very serviceable, in enabling me to bring up arrears of writing.  During this interval, I spent one very pleasant day with Theodore and Angelina