The next morning, at half-past 7, we set off by railway to Utica, a distance of 94 miles, which we did not accomplish in less than 6-1/2 hours, making an average of less than 15 miles an hour, and for which we paid 2-1/2 dollars, or 10s. 6d.  This journey led us through the valley of the Mohawk, and that river was for the most part our constant companion.  The railway and the river seemed to be wedded to each other,—­the former conforming to all the whims and windings, and turnings and twistings of the latter.

Utica is a small city, of about 14,000 inhabitants.  Its progress has been but slow.  The houses are painted white, and appear neat and comfortable.  I was struck with the immense number of them that were erected with their gable end to the street, and with a small portico supported by two fluted columns.  A large portion of the inhabitants are Welsh, who have here four or five places of worship.  The Rev. James Griffiths, a man of great piety and worth, is the minister of the Welsh Independents.  At his house we were most kindly entertained during our stay.  On the Sabbath I preached for him twice in Welsh.  The following week we were taken to Remsen, eighteen miles off, to see the Rev. Mr. Everett, whose farewell sermon on leaving Wales I had heard when quite a boy,—­and the Rev. Morris Roberts, to whom I had bidden adieu in Liverpool sixteen years before.  It was delightful to meet these honoured brethren in their adopted home, after the lapse of so many years.  Remsen is quite a Welsh settlement; and these men both preside over Welsh churches there.  Mr. Everett is the editor of a Welsh Monthly Magazine.  In that periodical, as well as in his ministrations, he has been unflinching in his denunciations of slavery.  This has exposed him to cruel persecutions.  There are about 70,000 Welsh people in the United States who worship in their own language.  At Remsen I had to deliver two addresses on the results of emancipation in the West Indies.  On our return to Utica, the friend who drove us happened incidentally to mention that in that country they make the dogs churn!  “The dogs churn!” I said, “Yes,” said he; “and I dare say they have a churning-machine so worked at this house:  let us call and see.”  It was a farm-house.  At the door about half-a-dozen chubby little children, with fine rosy cheeks, were assembled to see the strangers.  I began to speak in English to the eldest, a boy about 10 years of age; but the lad stared!  He understood not a word I said.

Though born and so far brought up there, he knew nothing but Welsh!  We were gratified with an inspection of the machine for churning.  It was worked very much on the same principle as a treadmill, and exceedingly disliked by the poor dog.  Goats are sometimes made to perform the same service.  In several instances, we saw horses in like manner made to saw wood, and admired the ingenuity of our cousins in turning to account every particle of power they possess.  “What is the difference,” said Dr. Beecher once to a ship-captain, “between an English sailor and a Yankee one?” The answer was, “An English sailor can do a thing very well in one way, but the Yankee can do it in half-a-dozen ways.”