On the morning of the 23d I took the Stage and nothing occurred worth noting until we arrived at Baltimore excepting that it commenced raining. On entering the Hotel I found my old friend Dr. Ironside some time my tutor in the days of drudgery and dependence, but now in a much more agreeable relation to both concerned, that of a friendly acquaintance. He informed me that he was going on directly to New York, on public business, a circumstance which gratified me prodigiously as it made me sure of a companion all the way, and travelling alone being of all things the most decidedly dull thing, I joined company and we agreed not to part until we got safe to New York.1

Accordingly at five o’clock we rode down to the Steam Boat in a violent rain and started for Philadelphia. The day was very uncomfortable and I had forgotten to bring any thing like an outer garment or rather from an invincible dislike to trouble had determined not to load myself with one. The consequence was that during the night I suffered very much in the Stage. The arrangement of these Stages is horrible to a lover of comfort, but I passed it off as comfortably as I could.

We remained but two hours at Philadelphia during which time the weather cleared away and we had a tolerably pleasant passage to Trenton. From there we rode on comfortably in the Stages until within six miles of New Brunswick when the Stage in which I happened to be in broke down, and as I did not admire the remedy for the evil in the shape of a rail, I transported myself to another of the Coaches, where I had the bad fortune to sit next to a man who was as drunk as a Lord.1 My situation was not the one which I should select as the most agreeable of my life but as the man was fortunately very little disposed to politics in his inebriety I consoled myself with thinking that the matter might have been worse. We arrived safe at New Brunswick, where we staid the night.