We left New York yesterday, end slept at Philadelphia. When we went
there last week, the first thirty miles of our route was across the Bay
of New York, in a steamer, and, on our return, we came the whole way by
rail; but there is a third line, which we took on this occasion, called
the New Jersey Line, by which we went as far as Burlington by rail, and
thence a distance of nineteen miles in a steamboat down the Delaware. It
was splendid moonlight, and the town of Philadelphia, which stretches
along the banks of the river for nearly five miles, was well lighted,
and the river being crowded with ships, the whole effect was very
pretty.
It is marvellous how well they manage these huge steam-boats. They come
noiselessly up to the pier without the least shock in touching it, and
it is almost impossible to know when one has left the boat and reached
_terra firma_, so close do they bring the vessel up to the wharf. The
whole process is directed by a man at the wheel, and regulated by sound
of bell. There is a perfect absence of all yells, and cries, and strong
expressions, so common in a French steamer, and not unfrequent in an
English one.
We arrived too late at Philadelphia to be able to do much that evening,
and this morning, we started early for Baltimore, _en route_ for this
place.
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