TO THE READER.

In presenting to the public a new and improved edition of this record of his wanderings, the author could not justly suffer the opportunity to go by, without expressing his grateful acknowledgment of the kindness with which his work has been received. Although his aim was simply to give a narrative of personal experience, which it was hoped might be of some value to many a toiling student in the college of the world, he was aware that it would be considered a test of his literary ability, and that whatever hearing he might have hoped to obtain for the works of maturer years, would be dependent on its success. With a total ignorance of the arts of book-making, and uncertain whether a new voice from the track where thousands had been before him, would find a patient auditory, it was therefore not without considerable anxiety that he gave his volume to the world. But he was not prepared to hope for such an immediate and generous favor as it received. By the press of our own country, as well as the more rigid reviewers of Great Britain, whatever merits it possesses were cordially appreciated, while its faults were but lightly touched-perhaps from a sympathy with the youth of the author and the plan of his enthusiastic pilgrimage. But what was most grateful of all, he learned that many another young and hopeful spirit had been profited and encouraged by his own experience, and was ready to try the world with as little dependence on worldly means. The letters he received from persons whose hopes and circumstances were what his own had been, gave welcome evidence that he had not written in vain. He will say that this knowledge repaid him for whatever toil and hardship he had undergone; whoever is subjected to the same experience will learn that it brings its own reward to the mind;—but it will nerve him henceforth to bear any lot, however severe, through which he may be enabled to say a word that shall cheer or strengthen another.

not

He is now fully aware how much he has omitted from these pages, which would have been curious and perhaps instructive to the reader;-how many blunders of inexperience; how much thoughtless confidence in the world;

how many painful struggles with pride, and a too-selfish independence; how many strange extremities of want and amusing expedients of relief. His reluctance to relate much that was entirely personal and could not have been told without some little sacrifice of feeling, has since been regretted, from the belief that it might have been useful to others. Perhaps, however, it will be better that each one should learn these lessons for himself. There is a sensation of novelty, which, even in the most embarrassing situations, produces a desperate kind of enjoyment, and in addition to this, the sufferer's sympathies for humanity are very much deepened and enlarged by an acquaintance with its trials.

In preparing the present edition of his book, the author at first contemplated a complete revision. The fact that seven editions had been sold in a year and a half from the publication, seemed to require that he should make such improvements as his riper judgment suggested, and which should render it more worthy of so extensive a circulation. But further reflection con

vinced him that it would be best to make little change. It was written during his wanderings-partly by the wayside, when resting at mid-day, and partly on the rough tables of peasant inns, in the stillness of deserted ruins, or amid the sublime solitude of the mountain-top. It thus reflects faithfully the impress of his own mind, in every part of the journey, and he would prefer that it should remain a boyish work, however lacking in finish of composition, rather than risk taking away whatever spirit it may have caught from nature. Some particulars, which have been desired by persons about to undertake a similar journey, and which may be generally interesting, have been given in a new chapter at the close. With this addition, and that of a sketch illustrating the costume of a pedestrian, which has been made by a poet and artist friend, the work is again given to the public. may hereafter be better able to deserve their commendation. ings are not yet over.

NEW-YORK, August, 1848

The author His wander.

PREFACE.

BY N. P. WILLIS.

THE book which follows, requires little or no introduction. It tells its own story, and tells it well. The interest in it, which induces the writer of this preface to be its usher to the public, is simply that of his having chanced to be among the first appreciators of the author's talent-an appreciation that has since been so more than justified, that the writer is proud to call the author of this book his friend, and bespeak attention to the peculiar energies he has displayed in travel and authorship. Mr. Taylor's poetical productions while he was still a printer's apprentice, made a strong impression on the writer's mind, and he gave them their due of praise accordingly in the newspaper of which he was then Editor. Some correspondence ensued, and other fine pieces of writing strengthened the admiration thus awakened, and when the young poet-mechanic came to the city, and modestly an. nounced the bold determination of visiting foreign landswith means, if they could be got, but with reliance on manual labor if they could not-the writer, understanding the man, and seeing how capable he was of carrying out his manly and enthusiastic scheme, and that it would work uncorruptingly for the improvement of his mind and character, counselled him to go. He went-his book tells how successfully for all his purposes. He has returned, after two

years' absence, with large knowledge of the world, of men and of manners, with a pure, invigorated and healthy mind, having passed all this time abroad, and seen and accomplished more than most travelers, at the cost of only $500, and this sum earned on the road. This, in the writer's opinion, is a fine instance of character and energy. The book, which records the difficulties and struggles of a printer's apprentice achieving this, must be interesting to Americans. The pride of the country is in its self-made men.

What Mr. Taylor is, or what he is yet to become, cannot well be touched upon here, but that it will yet be written, and on a bright page, is, of course, his own confident hope and the writer's confident expectation. The book, which is the record of his progress thus far, is now cordially commended to the public, and it will be read, perhaps, more understandingly after a perusal of the following outline sketch of the difficulties the author had to contend with-a letter written in reply to a note from the writer asking for some of the particulars of his start and progress:

To. Mr. Willis,—

MY DEAR SIR:

Nearly three years ago (in the beginning of 1844) the time for accomplishing my long cherished desire of visiting Europe, seemed to arrive. A cousin, who had long intended going abroad, was to leave in a few months, and although I was then surrounded by the most unfavorable circumstances. I determined to accompany him, at whatever hazard. I had still two years of my apprenticeship to serve out; I was entirely without means, and my project was strongly opposed by my friends, as something too visionary to be practicable

A short time before, Mr. Griswold advised me to publish a small volume of youthful effusions, a few of which had appeared in Graham's Magazine, which he then edited; the idea struck me, that by so doing, I might, if they should be favorably noticed, obtain a newspaper correspondence which would enable me to make the start.

The volume was published; a sufficient number was sold among my friends to defray all expenses, and it was charitably noticed by the Philadelphia press. Some literary friends, to whom I confided my design, promised to aid me with their influence. Trusting to this, I made arrangements for leaving the printing-office, which I succeeded in doing, by making a certain compensation for the remainder of my time. I was now fully confident of success, feeling satisfied, that a strong will would always make itself a way. After many applications to different editors and as many disappointments, I finally succeeded, about two weeks before our departure, in making a partial engagement. Mr. Chandler of the United States Gazette and Mr. Patterson of the Saturday Evening Post, paid me fifty dollars, each, in advance for twelve letters, to be sent from Europe, with the probability of accepting more, if these should be satisfactory. This, with a sum which I received from Mr. Graham for poems published in his Magazine, put me in possession of about a hundred and forty dollars, with which I determined to start, trusting to future remuneration for letters, or if that should fail, to my skill as a compositor, for I supposed I could at the worst, work my way through Europe, like the German hand werker. Thus, with another companion, we left home, an enthusiastic and hopeful trio.

I need not trace our wanderings at length. After eight months of suspense, during which time my small means were