As the trains from Philadelphia enter Baltimore, they cross a wide, clean, quiet street, called “Broadway.” It bears no resemblance to the Broadway of New York, as it is occupied chiefly by private dwellings. The trains always stop there a minute or two to allow those who wish to get off. This street runs north and south and of course crosses Baltimore street, the principal business thoroughfare, which runs east and west. The Baltimore-street railway extends down Broadway, and as several cars are always in waiting when trains arrive, many passengers get off the train here, take a street-car, and ride into the heart of the city. I always do so when I visit the “Monumental city.” I did so on this occasion, having first instructed the baggage-express agent to send my trunk to my hotel. As I jumped from the train, (before it had quite stopped,) and walked toward the street-car that stood waiting on Broadway, a soldier approached me, and tapping me familiarly on the shoulder, said: “Why, Locke! how are you?” I saw at a glance that he had mistaken me for some one else, and soberly replied: “I believe this isn’t I.” “O, so it isn’t! Excuse me,” he said, perceiving his mistake and laughing at my joke. I got into a crowded car and rode to my hotel on West Baltimore street; for the principal street is divided into East and West Baltimore streets by a canal, which it crosses near the center of the city. Having a week or two before me, with very little to do, I determined to see all the places of interest in the vicinity, for I had, theretofore, neglected to visit them, although I had frequently been in Baltimore. I had never even visited the Washington Monument there. Here let me commend Baltimore for being the only city that has ever erected a monument to the memory of that pure-hearted patriot to whom we are indebted for our liberties and free institutions—GEORGE WASHINGTON! Baltimore has another monument which was erected in honor of the Maryland soldiers who fell in the war of 1812; and is hence styled the “Monumental City.” The Washington Monument is indeed quite a fine structure. It is built of marble to the height of about two hundred feet, and its top is adorned with a large statue of the “Father of His Country.” Within, is a spiral stairway of stone, like that in the Bunker Hill Monument; but it is not lighted with gas, nor has it any embrasures for the admission of air and daylight. The superintendent, or some one employed for the purpose, accompanies each visitor, who wishes to ascend, carrying a lantern. He may well be termed a man who has a great many “ups and downs” in the world. From the top of this monument, the view of the city is excellent; almost every house in it can be seen. Of course, I visited this monument, but as nothing extraordinary occurred, and especially nothing funny, I will not entertain the reader with a full description of my visit, nor of the monument itself.