268 LEAVE NEW BRUNSWICK, 



The father and the priest, walk forth alone 

 Into his garden plat, or little field, 

 To commune with his God in secret prayer ; 

 To bless the Lord that in his downward years 

 Rich mercies still surround him ; sweet meantime, 

 The thrush that sings upon the aged thorn, 

 Brings to his view the days of youthful years, 

 When that same aged thorn was but a bush. 

 Nor is the contrast between youth and age 

 To him a painful thought ; he joys to think 

 His journey near a close : Heaven is his home." 



June the 20th, I left the province of New 

 Brunswick, on my mission to the Mohawk 

 Indians, settled along the Grand River, Upper 

 Canada, and landed from the steam boat, that 

 ran between the city of Saint John and East- 

 port, the frontier town of the United States, on 

 the same evening. The next morning, I took 

 the packet boat for Boston, and soon after 

 my arrival, proceeded on my way, through the 

 state of Massachusetts, by the stage, to Albany. 



Negro Slavery has been for a considerable 

 time abolished in Massachusetts, and the people 

 of colour commemorate its abolition by an an- 

 nual procession which I had the pleasure of 

 witnessing. Their appearance was rather gro- 

 tesque, and excited much good humour among 

 the gazing multitude. The old men who headed 

 the procession carried short batoons, some of 



