PLEASURES OF A COMPANION.
I Was on the point of leaving Philadelphia for New York, intending from thence to proceed to Canada, when chance brought me into the company of two young gentlemen from England, each of whom was separately preparing to set off on a similar excursion. A rational and agreeable companion, to whom you might communicate the result of your observations, and with whom you might interchange sentiments on all occasions, could not but be deemed a pleasing acquisition, I should imagine, by a person on a journey through a foreign land. Were any one to be found, however, of a different opinion, I should venture to affirm, that ere he travelled far through the United States of America, where there are so few inhabitants in proportion to the extent of the country; where, in going from one town to another, it is frequently necessary to pass for many miles together through dreary woods; and where, even in the towns, a few of those sea-ports indeed excepted which are open to the Atlantic, there is such sameness in the customs, manners, and conversation of the inhabitants, and so little amongst them that interests either the head or the heart; he would not only be induced to think that a companion must add to the pleasure of a journey, but were absolutely necessary to prevent its appearing insipid, and at times highly irksome to him.
For my own part, I had fully determined in my own mind, upon returning from my tour beyond the Blue Mountains, never again to set out on a journey alone through any part of America, if I could possibly procure an agreeable companion. The gentlemen I met with had, as well as myself, travelled widely through different parts of the United States, and formed nearly the same resolution; we accordingly agreed to go forward to Canada together, and having engaged a carriage for ourselves as far as New York, we quitted the close and disagreeable city of Philadelphia on the twentieth of June.
The road, for the first twenty-five miles, runs very near the River Delaware, which appears to great advantage through openings in the woods that are scattered along its shores. From the town of Bristol in particular, which stands on an elevated part of the banks, twenty miles above Philadelphia, it is seen in a most pleasing point of view. The river, here about one mile wide, winds majestically round the point whereon the town is built, and for many miles, both upwards and downwards, it may be traced through a rich country, flowing gently along: in general it is covered with innumerable little sloops and schooners. Opposite to Bristol stands the city of Burlington, one of the largest in New Jersey, built partly upon an island and partly on the main shore. It makes a good appearance, and adds considerably to the beauty of the prospect from Bristol.
Ten miles farther on, opposite to Trenton, which stands at the head of the sloop navigation, you cross the river. The falls or rapids, that prevent boats from ascending any higher, appear in full view as you pass, but their prospect is in no way pleasing; beyond them, the navigation may be pursued for upwards of one hundred miles in small boats. Trenton is the capital of New Jersey, and contains about two hundred houses, together with four churches. The streets are commodious, and the houses neatly built. The state house, in which congress met for some time during the war, is a heavy clumsy edifice.
PRINCETON.
Twelve miles from Trenton, stands Princeton, a neat town, containing about eighty dwellings in one long street. Here is a large college, held in much repute by the neighbouring states. The number of students amounts to upwards of seventy; from their appearance, however, and the course of studies they seem to be engaged in, like all the other American colleges I ever saw, it better deserves the title of a grammar school than a college. The library, which we were shewn, is most wretched, consisting, for the most part, of old theological books, not even arranged with any regularity. An orrery, contrived by Mr. Rittenhouse, whose talents are so much boasted of by his countrymen, stands at one end of the apartment, but it is quite out of repair, as well as a few detached parts of a philosophical apparatus, enclosed in the same glass case. At the opposite end of the room are two small cupboards, which are shewn as the museum. These contain a couple of small stuffed alligators, and a few singular fishes, in a miserable state of preservation, the skins of them being tattered in innumerable places, from their being repeatedly tossed about. The building is very plain, and of stone; it is one hundred and eighty feet in front, and four stories high.
NEW JERSEY.
The next stage from Princeton is Brunswick, containing about two hundred houses; there is nothing very deserving of attention in it, excepting it be the very neat and commodious wooden bridge that has been thrown across the Raritan River, which is about two hundred paces over. The part over the channel is contrived to draw up, and on each side is a footway guarded by rails, and ornamented with lamps. Elizabeth Town and Newark, which you afterwards pass through in succession, are both of them cheerful lively looking places: neither of them is paved. Newark is built in a straggling manner, and has very much the appearance of a large English village: there is agreeable society in this town. These two towns are only eight miles apart, and each of them has one or two excellent churches, whose tall spires appear very beautiful as you approach at a distance, peeping up above the woods by which they are encircled.
The state of New Jersey, measured from north to south, is about one hundred and sixty miles in length; it varies in breadth from forty to eighty miles. The northern part of it is crossed by the blue ridge of mountains, running through Pennsylvania; and shooting off in different directions from this ridge, there are several other small mountains in the neighbourhood. The southern part of the state, on the contrary, which lies towards the sea, is extremely flat and sandy; it is covered for miles together with pine trees alone, usually called pine barrens, and is very little cultivated. The middle part, which is crossed in going from Philadelphia to New York, abounds with extensive traits of good land; the soil varies, however, considerably, in some places being sandy, in others stoney, and in others consisting of a rich brown mould. This part of the state, as far as Newark, is on the whole well cultivated, and scattered about in different places are some excellent farm houses; a good deal of uncleared land, however, still remains. Beyond Newark the country is extremely flat and marshy. Between the town and the Posaick River there is one marsh, which alone extends upwards of twenty miles, and is about two miles wide where you pass over it. The road is here formed with large logs of wood laid close together, and on each side are ditches to keep it dry. This was the first place where we met with musquitoes, and they annoyed us not a little in passing. Towards the latter end of the summer Philadelphia is much infested with them; but they had not made their appearance when we left that city. The Posaik River runs close upon the borders of this marsh, and there is an excellent wooden bridge across it, somewhat similar to that at New Brunswick over the Raritan River. About fifteen miles above it there is a very remarkable fall in the river. The river, at the fall, is about forty yards wide, and flows with a gentle current till it comes within a few perches of the edge of the fall, when it suddenly precipitates itself, in one entire sheet, over a ledge of rocks of nearly eighty feet in perpendicular height; below, it runs on through a chasm, formed of immense rocks on each side; they are higher than the fall, and seem to have been once united together.