Having our tickets, we crossed the ever-glorious Hudson, and, landing at Jersey City, had the pleasure of “puddling it up” through the snow to the railway carriages.  There they were, with the red-hot stove and poisonous atmosphere, as usual; so my friend and I, selecting a cushionless “smoking-car,” where the windows would at all events be open, seated ourselves on the hard boards of resignation, lit the tapery weed of consolation, and shrouded ourselves in its fragrant clouds.  On we went, hissing through the snow-storm, till the waters of the Delaware brought us to a stand-still; then, changing to a steamer, we crossed the broad stream, on which to save time, they served dinner, and almost before it was ended we had reached Philadelphia, where ’busses were in waiting to take us to the railway.  I may as well mention here, that one of the various ways in which the glorious liberty of the country shows itself, is the deliberate manner in which ’busses and stages stop in the middle of the muddiest roads, in the worst weather, so that you may get thoroughly well muddied and soaked in effecting your entry.  Equality, I suppose, requires that if the coachman is to be wet and uncomfortable, the passengers should be brought as near as possible to the same state.

The ’busses being all ready, off we started, and just reached the train in time; for, being a mail-train, it could not wait, though we had paid our fares all through to Baltimore.  Soon after our departure, I heard two neighbours conversing between the intervals of the clouds of Virginia which they puffed assiduously.  Says one, “I guess all the baggage is left behind.”  The friend, after a long draw at his weed, threw out a cloud sufficient to cover the rock of Gibraltar, and replied, with the most philosophical composure, “I guess it aint nurthin’ else.”  My friend and I puffed vigorously, and looked inquiringly at each other, as much as to say, “Can our luggage be left behind?” Soon the conductor appeared to viser the tickets:  he would solve our doubts.—­“I say, conductor, is our luggage which came from New York, left behind?” “Ay, I guess it is, every stick of it; and if you had been ten minutes later, I guess you might have stayed with it; it’ll come on to-night, and be at Baltimore to-morrow morning about half-past four; if you’ll give me your tickets, and tell me what hotel you are going to, I’ll have it sent up.”  Upon inquiry, we found this was a very common event, nor did anybody seem to think it a subject worth taking pains to have rectified, though the smallest amount of common sense and common arrangement might easily obviate it.  And why this indifference?  Because, first it would cost a few cents; secondly, it doesn’t affect the majority, who travel with a small hand-bag only; thirdly, the railway across New Jersey is a monopoly, and therefore people must take that road or none; and lastly, from the observations I elicited in the course of examining my witnesses, it appeared to me that the jealousy and rivalry existing between New Jersey, New York, and Philadelphia, have some little effect; at all events, it is an ignoble affair that it is suffered to remain.  I have, however, no doubt that time will remedy this, as I trust it will many of the other inconveniences and wants of arrangement which the whole railway system in this country is at present subject to.—­To return from my digression.