Roused this morning at half past three o’clock, after a very uncomfortable night indeed, dressed immediately and prepared myself for my journey. The weather had become fair and turned cold. After some delay from the number of passengers we mounted and went on—the two gentlemen being still with me. The stage in which we travelled was of most enormous size, being able to carry fourteen passengers without inconvenience. It looked more like a moving house, than any thing else. I obtained a seat in front and enjoyed a nap until breakfast time. The springs and road being so good as not to move me in the least. At breakfast, I became thoroughly awake and began to look about me to see the phizes of my companions, my first care almost always when I am travelling about in large stages.

Mr. O’sullivan, I have understood to be a man not of the very fairest character in the world, as it was not known how he acquired as much money as he did when in the Pacific Ocean. Shubrick gave me this information although he did not have time to state the reasons why 92they suspected him. He is not a pleasant man. With this last named man I was pleased, as he had considerable plainness in his manner and seemed to be warm hearted. There was a woman in the stage, who in voice and face bore a remarkable resemblance to Mrs. Henry the Boston actress,1 and put me into a love reverie for a few minutes. My heart was opened and I admired her and her child painting to myself images of maternal love, from which I easily came to pure affection and which dream might have lasted longer, had it not been interrupted by the harsh squalls of the fretted child. So I was put to flight. A young man was in the stage also, who appeared to be acquainted with her and in some measure to protect her from accidents. He had evidently just come from College,2 as he displayed an astonishing quantity of knowledge to the astonished ears of our country friends. One man there was not remarkable for any thing except a pair of eyes which inclined most terriffically toward each other—an unpleasant sight to look on. The rest were common every day people with the exception of a little Dutch looking, squab girl, who was very talkative indeed and a good subject for the quib3 which was played on her. She offered us some snuff, told us the story of her runaway husband without emotion, and complained of being horribly sick. I never saw any thing in my life more ugly. Good natured though to to a great degree.

Thus we travelled on, very comfortably indeed. It was fortunate for me that I obtained so much rest today otherwise it is a question if I should have been able to have sustained such a severe course as yesterday might have been the commencement of. We arrived in Philadelphia at half past three o’clock and went immediately to the Mansion House. I instantly went up to wash and dress myself for it was much needed, as I had not changed my clothes since my departure from Washington, and I had the comfort of feeling cleanly, a great refreshment for travellers. Some horrible accounts of the roads, so that I was almost tempted to stay here a day, but it being late, I determined to go on. And to keep myself in order, I retired to bed very early.

Roused this morning at half past three o’clock and started for New York after waiting a convenient hour. The road for the first 93fifteen miles very good and spent by me as usual in sleep. After breakfast, which was made at a place called Andalusia,1 renowned for it’s good buck wheat cakes, I felt myself alive and prepared to take a good jolting. Shubrick got to the end of his peregrination yesterday and O’sullivan went in the Union line this morning whereas I went in the Citizen’s coach. One of my yesterday’s companions was with me though, being the young man. The lady was to have gone but was left to go in the ten o’clock line. My fellow passengers today were a curious set, every man almost having some peculiar characteristic which could afford matter of diversion to me sitting a disinterested spectator and observer.

The first that I shall mention, was an old man, who sat on the back seat, who appeared to be about sixty years of age, with as stern and bloody a countenance as I ever saw upon mortal man, which was considerably increased by a large patch placed upon a scratch over the left eye. His arm was also in bandages, which gave me a strong suspicion of his having been a bruiser. He had come from the inner parts of Pennsylvania, and did not invite conversation although he talked pretty mildly. I did not like his looks and was glad when he made his exit at Princeton. Next came a young man who soon informed us that he was a Connecticut boy but was returning home from his second campaign to the State of Ohio where he thinks of settling. He was good natured and well behaved, being much more modest than men in his class are generally. The others, two of them were Irishmen—one of whom I shall again have occasion to speak. The other was a good sort of soul very much given to philosophy and moralizing. I was for sometime quite astonished at his frequent bursts, exclaiming perpetually, whether it was apt to the conversation or not, that “it was interest governed all, faith it was,” which he accompanied with so many sage commentaries that I was in a maze. But I discovered presently that he had learnt the truth of his proposition by his experience, for on that morning he had lost his good coat and gloves before he got into the coach so that at every shiver he was forcibly reminded of the theft. The poor man trembled so that I gave him a small piece of the upper part of my cloak for which he appeared grateful. I could not refuse for I pitied him although I could not avoid laughing heartily at his philosophy.

The road was horrible and although I was not so much frightened as usual from some unknown cause, I still felt very qualmish. A student at Princeton rode one stage with us and we then were able to converse about the three universities very pleasantly. My friend 94(alumnus) of Yale, (for so he was) who appears to be marked for the ministry amused me by his observations, some of which however were pretty sensible, and Nassau Hall talked of the late rebellion there.2 Thus wore the day. These men both stopped at Princeton. And the rest of the journey was ridiculous on account of these Irishmen and the jolting. We arrived so late that I determined it best not to cross the river tonight.3