enable rights; that among
these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Under the
influence of these recollections, I abandoned the idea of visiting
Washington.

At 9 o'clock on Monday morning we set off by railway for Philadelphia.
While I was taking a last glance at my trunks in the luggage-van, at
the Baltimore station, about half-a-dozen very clean and respectable
coloured ladies came up, and made for the said van as a matter of
course. It was the only accommodation that would be allowed them,
though they paid the same fare as other people! They were ladies to
whom any gentleman in England would have been proud to resign a seat.
But in the land of equality, they were consigned to the cold, dark, and
dirty regions of the luggage-van. I noticed one important difference
between the railway economy of England and that of America. In the
former, as you know, the railway is haughty, exclusive, and
aristocratic. It scorns all fellowship with common roads, and dashes
on, either under or over the houses, with arbitrary indifference. In
America, it generally condescends to pass along the public streets to
the very centre of the city, the engine being taken off or put to in
the suburbs, and its place _intra muros_, if I may so say, supplied by
horses. In leaving Baltimore, the engine was attached _before_ we got
quite out of the city; and we were going for some time along the common
road, meeting in one place a horse and cart, in another a man on
horseback, in another a pair of oxen fastened to each other, and so on.
Dangerous enough, apparently! yet railway accidents are much less
frequent in America than in England. It is, besides, an immense saving
of capital.

In our progress, we had to cross several arms of the Chesapeak Bay.
These arms were from one to two miles wide, and the railway is carried
over them upon posts driven into the ground. It seemed like crossing
the sea in a railway carriage. At Havre de Grace we had to cross the
Susquehannah River. This word Susquehannah is Indian, and means
literally, I am told, "the rolling thunder." In crossing it, however,
we heard no thunder, except that of the luggage-van over our heads, on
the top of the steamer. Here we changed carriages. We soon got sight of
the Delaware, which kept us company nearly all the way to Philadelphia.
Delaware, the smallest of all the States except Rhode Island, we
entirely crossed. A few days before, Delaware had well nigh done
herself