The next day my wife and I paid our promised visit to the institution of the Abbotts at Mount Vernon.  In its government there are neither rewards nor punishments; but each pupil, at the close of the day, has to present a brief report of her own conduct.  Her good deeds and her bad deeds must be alike proclaimed—­proclaimed by herself,—­and that in the presence of her fellow-pupils who were witnesses of the conduct to which she refers.  This compels her to be faithful.  If she tries to conceal what was faulty, she is surrounded by those who will detect that concealment:  if she ostentatiously parades her own excellences, she knows she will sink in the estimation of her friends.  The encouragement of self-respect, and of a regard for that which is good for its own sake, are the great principles of government in this establishment.

Mr. Abbott’s plan of teaching a language is, not at first to weary the pupils with the dry rules of grammar, but to store their memories with words.  He read a word or a short sentence in French, for instance, and asked the pupils to translate it into English.  Then, with closed books, he would give them the English in like manner to be turned into French.  I have since adopted the plan with Latin pupils with pleasure and success.

Mr. Abbott allows a recess of five minutes at the close of every half-hour.  The hours of attendance are from 9 A.M. to 2 P.M.; but a rest of half an hour is allowed in the midst of that period.  We happened to be there when the said half-hour arrived.  All the Abbotts, the pupils, and ourselves went out to the playground, which was furnished with seats, and swings, and skipping-ropes, and swinging-boats, and all sorts of machines for exercise and amusement.  In these gymnastic performances the Abbotts themselves joined the pupils, with a beautiful combination of freedom and propriety.  A happier assemblage I never saw.  We retired highly delighted with all we had witnessed.

In the afternoon I had the honour of being introduced to Dr. Robinson, whose Greek Lexicon I had often thumbed with advantage.  He appeared to be from 45 to 50 years of age.  His manners were exceedingly simple and unostentatious,—­the constant characteristics of true greatness.  I looked upon him with high respect and veneration.  He is a man of whom America may well be proud.  He pressed me to go and address the students at Union College, of which he is one of the Professors; but an opportunity of doing so did not occur.

In the evening I was waited upon by two gentlemen who announced themselves as the “President and Secretary” of a Welsh Temperance Society, and wished me to attend and address one of their meetings at a given time.  This I could not do.  In conversation with them about slavery, and the oppression of the coloured people, I was surprised and grieved to find how soon the Welsh people imbibed the feelings and aped the conduct of the Americans in those matters.  On their pressing me to attend a meeting of their society on some future occasion, I told them I was one of the most downright Abolitionists that ever lived, and, if I came, would terrify them all with such an abolition speech as they had never heard.  This, of course, was cold water upon their love, and our interview soon terminated.