INTRODUCTION.

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of travels that is not highly spiced with adventures which never, under any circumstances, could have happened, or flavored, at least, with a little delicate scandal, in which some royal, or other distinguished personage is made to "suffer some" for the amusement and edification of republican readers at home, can hope for the attention of a single hour. And yet, with all these facts staring him in the face, the writer of the following pages, who has few adventures, real or imaginary, to relate, and no scandal, true or otherwise, to retail, has had the temerity to appear before the world, as the issuer of "Notes of Foreign Travel."

But why?

It should be sufficient to refer to the dedication; but if any further answer seems to be necessary, why may it not be supposed that he has a philanthropic wish to correct certain crude or erroneous notions or opinions of his countrymen; or it may be a laudable ambition of adding another brick to the Babel of modern literature? If the critic is not yet satisfied, he feels quite unconcerned on the subject, as he knows how easy it will be for that gentleman (the critic,) to answer the question for himself. Yet he is perfectly willing to tell, without reserve, his object in going abroad, which is, after all, the root of the matter the little acorn that has produced so goodly an oak as this book.

In the heart of every American-the descendant of the red man, of course, excepted-whether inherent in the blood by which it is animated, or a seed chance sown by the legends and traditions of child

hood, philosophy alone can determine, a certain feeling springs up with his earliest consciousness of being -a yearning after the home of his fathers, beyond the roar of the Atlantic, that "grows with his growth and strengthens with his strength." Such, at least, was the feeling of the writer, and although for years and years, the gratification of his desire to visit the shores of Europe, was something for which he scarce ventured to hope, he never suffered it, for want of culture, to die within him, or to wither, but, by frequent thought, and much reading, kept it ever vigorous and green, until, by a happy combination of circumstances, he was enabled, in the memorable summer of fifty-one, to satisfy it fully.

A word more, and he is done. In his temporary separation from the land of his birth, he does not pretend to have left behind him the opinions, or prejudices, if you will, of one nurtured in the principles of the Revolution, and whose convictions had led him to unite with those who regard the spirit more than the externals of religion. Consequently, he had no predisposition to view, with especial reverence, the splendors of royalty, or even sacerdotal pomp; and he may, therefore, appear at times not to have judged of some things of which the great majority of the people of the countries through which he traveled, think not as he does, with impartiality. But of one thing the reader may be certain-whenever the writer advances an opinion, it is honestly his; and further, that if it may be thought he did แ nothing extenuate," he did not "set down aught in malice."

CHAPTER II.

Trip to Liverpool-Gale-the Henry Clay--Captain French.

MY long cherished wish to visit Europe, was, at

last, about to be realized, and on the 29th day of April, 1851, I found myself on ship-board, bound to Liverpool. We had a pleasant company of passengers, among whom were Mr. and Mrs. P. H. VANDERVOORT, of New York, and Col. DAVIS, of Columbia, South Carolina; who, proposing to make the same tour with myself, we made up a party, and I soon had reason to congratulate myself at finding such agreeable traveling companions.

We had a delightful trip out to Liverpool, in the good ship Henry Clay, having but one gale on the passage, and that only added to the pleasure, as it gave us an opportunity of seeing the ocean in its most sublime aspect. It lasted but a few hours, from about sunset 'till midnight, but created a scene on board the ship that was quite exciting; to witness the activity of the officers and crew in reducing sail; somewhere about eighteen or twenty men at once on a yard, furling sails, until one after another, all had disappeared, except the close-reefed main-topsail— the moon shining through the clouds, and occasionally coming out with splendor, lighting up the busy scene the waves continually gathering force, and the wind howling more and more angrily, as if it had

a mission of destruction to perform, and was hastening to its execution; all this, to novices, as most of us were, was extremely delightful, and kept us on deck until the small hours of the morning, when a heavy dash of rain drove us below. This heavy rain broke the gale, and when we rose in the morning, we found a clear sky, with a few driving clouds; but the seas rolling tremendously, breaking into the purest white foam, as far as the eye could reach, and showing, as the sun shone upon or through them, the most beautiful shades of green. As the ship would sink into the trough of the sea, the tops of the waves appeared to be fifty feet above the deck, and sometimes a following wave would seem inevitably coming over the vessel, but it would only lift her up, when she would gracefully ride on its summit, until it again sank with her whichever way they threatened her, it made no difference, for she was always buoyant, and appeared almost like a sentient being; you might easily have fancied that she was doing it all with a consciousness of power and exultation. All that was terrific in the storm was over, and what remained was surpassingly beautiful. The sea, that before seemed to be lashed into fury, with a purpose of overwhelming us, now gamboled about the ship, as if it was playfully threatening us with inundation, and then gracefully sank away just as it appeared at its most fearful height and proximity.

I can easily understand the enthusiasm of the sai lor for his vocation, and am only sorry that I have not the power to give a description that would be

THE HENRY CLAY-CAPT. FRENCH.

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like the "evidence of things not seen" to those of my readers who have never been on the ocean wave. There is a lightness and gayety of spirits felt at sea that is delightful, and I think must be owing to the purity of the air, and the absence of all dust and dirt, aided, perhaps, by the entire release from the cares and toils of business and daily duties which occupy so much of our time on shore; while the rapid motion of the ship, when the winds are favorable, gives a sense of progress that is sufficient for variety, even if the ever-shifting aspect of sea and sky did not of itself furnish an infinitude of changes.

But I must not linger any longer over a description of what, after all, however new and interesting it may have been to some of us, is no novelty to most readers. We arrived at Liverpool after a passage of twenty-one days, which we shall always remember with pleasure, as well from the above-mentioned circumstances, as from the affable and gentlemanly deportment of Captain FRENCH, and his officers; and we feel bound to say, that we never wish to sail in a better ship than the Henry Clay, nor with a more agreeable and skillful commander than Captain FRENCH. Like the noble man whose image and name she bears, may this gallant ship maintain, as she has already acquired, a world-wide reputation, and be long quoted as a type of her class, the American packet ships, as he is acknowledged a glorious type and representative of the American statesman.