THE increased facilities for locomotion and the recognised brotherhood of nations have brought the advantages of travel within the reach of many to whom they were formerly denied. Thousands are every year availing themselves of this pleasantest method of gaining correct ideas of the men and manners of the time, and visiting for themselves the classic spots which have for so many ages inspired the soul of the poet, and guided the pencil of the painter. In this pilgrimage to the shrines of the Beautiful and the haunts of the Romantic, America has not been without her representatives. There is scarcely a spot in the Old World that gems the page of history or lives in the poet's song, where the foot of our countryman has not pressed. Some travel from curiosity, others to gain knowledge, while not a few, like the birdling of Jenny Lind, go, "not knowing why."
In the Spring of 1851, the author found himself in one of these categories-precisely which, he leaves it with the reader to determine. Of one sin, however, he holds himself innocent-the malice prepense of writing a book. During an absence of nearly two years, he had ample time and opportunity to visit all the more interesting portions of the three grand divisions of the Eastern hemisphere. The following Letters are his impressions