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

Up this morning soon after six, and crossed the North river in the ferry boat. The Irishmen stayed here all night also and the philosopher crossed when I did. He remained at New York, so that I was in hopes both had taken leave. I met the other again at Morse’s where I breakfasted, who informed me to my sorrow that he was going on, being the most disagreable by far of the two. I stayed in New York but about an hour and a half and had some conversation with Jaques the stagebook keeper, who soon smoked me and talked about the Presidential election, to fish, I suppose. Another man came to me and wanted me to take charge of some silver, to Boston as a great favour, but I treated the man with amazing harshness, as it does trouble me most exceedingly to have a person come importuning me to become responsible for any thing merely out of politeness. The poor fellow looked dumpish finding I persevered so I left him in statu quo.

There were about eight in the stage one of whom I had formerly met at Cambridge though I was not acquainted with him. He had been studying for admission to the Freshman Class. His name was Savage, from Philadelphia, a very wild fellow as I soon had experience.1 Up to all manner of mischief, he just sat down to quib a man sitting next to him then, a young city shop buck, who had, as it appeared, come out to some town in Connecticut, on a visit and to dash about, among his rustic friends. With him was another who appeared not much more or less than an ass. But very smart sharp 95fellows who evidently had considerable ideas of themselves. But they repelled Savage so he finally fixed on our friend the Irishman as the proper person to make extremely ridiculous.

Now it is impossible to conceive an uglier figure than this same man. Dirty to a great degree, he looked as if he had not undressed himself for three weeks, his face not washed for a month back. He wore a dirty blue dress, under a large red plaid cloak, his hair was a rusty black, and long uncombed, his beard full out, his face very red and very halting in his walk. With a remarkably shrill voice he told us, many ridiculous pedlar stories, using his brogue to great advantage. As he had been in that sort of business he was able to divert us by his experiences. Withal he was very shrewd indeed and could resist with success all the attacks of the student. In fact he retorted with such force as to put him word omitted rather to my joy than otherwise because I dislike to see a person condescend to press down a poor or an ignorant man by his wit, or in default of that by brass. The laugh being so often turned upon him, galled Savage to such a degree that at the approach of night he began a quarrel with him about seats, of the end of which I was doubtful. But the Irishman got somewhat the upper hand of him by his cool and collected behaviour. A young man is sure to disgrace himself by entering into quarrels with his inferiors particularly when he is in the wrong. To be a quib, No temper should be admitted. We were left alone one stage and Savage took the back seat. He however retracted so much of his first position as to allow the Irishman the seat every other stage.

We arrived at New Haven about eleven o’clock, and took supper there, the agreement of seats was broken up however by the entrance of two characters, whom I was not able to judge of until the morning. Sufficient to say that I took the whole of the middle seat and slept well.