illustrated by paintings as large as life, depicting the extraordinary wonders executed in a style which set all imitation at defiance.

Bread, cheeses, cakes, vegetables, etc., were heaped on high in the streets, with the owners of each separate pile, squatted in the midst. The multiplied stalls of frying sausages, and various other articles, undergoing the culinary process, filled the air with savory odors. To thread the mazes of this great Hungarian fair, was an undertaking of no little difficulty, on account of the immense pyramids of wool, hides, tobacco, and other raw materials, which continually stood in the way. As these articles were the most tempting baits to the cupidity of the Jew traders, they might constantly be seen making use of all their cajoling eloquence, while prevailing upon the artless peasants to dispose of their wares, at a price little more than nominal; when, however, the case was reversed, and the gaudy merchandise of the Jew and Armenian traders, induced the peasant to become a purchaser, the balance of trade was considerably against him.

But of all the groups over which the eye of our traveler wandered, none more strongly interested him than the Saxon (German) colonists. These were attired in the same costume in which their ancestors, some, centuries gone by, had emigrated from the father-land, their blue eyes, and heavy, quiet countenances forming a striking contrast to the vivid glances of the half Asiatic people around them. "I would, above all things," says Mr. Spencer, "recommend every traveler who may visit Pesth, during the spring fair, not to leave it without taking a morning's ramble through the town; he will then see thousands of men, women, and children, lying about the streets, beneath the piazzas, or in the numerous barks on the river, with no other covering save the canopy of heaven, and their own sheep-skin mantles. He will also, still more to his surprise, behold them anointing their persons with lard, in order to protect themselves during the day, from the effects of heat, and the bites of vermin and insects."

During the fair, Mr. Spencer was invited to a public dinner in Pesth, at the casino, or club-house of the nobles, "where," says he, "had it not been for the difference in the language, and the Asiatic countenances of the guests, I might have concluded I was at a public dinner in Old England; the cooking, attendants, toasts, speeches, cheering, everything being completely in the English style.

The gentlemen who composed the party, were among the most influential, wealthy, and enlightened of the Hungarian patriots, and they treated Mr. Spencer with the utmost kindness and hospitality, and very liberally provided him with every facility for making his projected tour through Hungary. "In order," says he, to estimate these courtesies at their full value, it must be remembered that the public conveniences for a traveler, in this long-neglected country, are few and far between. A hotel, even on the great road, is a rarity, and when one is found, the accommodations are generally wretched; while the luckless traveler on the cross-roads, or in the remote provinces, must think himself fortunate when he can find a bed in a cottage, should he be unprovided with letters of recommendation. Then for a conveyance, he must, for the most part, be contented with his own good steed, who will carry

him over mountains and fields, whenever, which is very often the case, a road is not to be found. My friends, anticipating these difficulties, furnished me with a species of passport, which, for the time being, invested me with all the privileges of a Hungarian magnate. Hence, whenever I presented it, every Magyar, throughout Hungary and Transylvania, was obliged, according to established conventional courtesy, to receive me as he would one of his own compatriots, and to provide me with every necessary accommodation, such as horses, refreshment, bed," etc.

The only excursion Mr. Spencer made, in the vicinity of Pesth, was to Balaton lake, about eighty miles south-east. On its shores is a pretty little bathing-place, called Fured, which is worth the stranger's visiting, for its beautiful scenery, and the pleasant and agreeable society which commonly assembles there.

The road, for the first day's journey, contains but little of interest, except a good house and pretty park, of Count Brunswick's, at Márton Vásár, which is rather a favorable specimen of a Hungarian village; the inn bears marks of being well supported, and as a specimen of its class, we here describe it: It is a long, one-story house, forming two sides of a court-yard, and beside the kitchen and landlord's room, contains a large drinking room, for the peasants, and two strangers' rooms. The latter have boarded floors, thickly strewn over with sand, and are furnished, each, with two beds, a table, and three or four wooden chairs. The usual fare here and elsewhere, in the Hungarian inns, is soup, vegetables cooked in grease, roast fowls, and pancakes. The bed, in a common country inn, is a wooden box, about six feet long, by two and a half wide, standing on legs two feet high. This box is filled with straw, and thereon is laid a hair mattress. In some places, such is the whole bed; in others, sheets, etc., are provided; but as they are not always of the desirable purity, almost every one travels with his own sheets, pillow, coverlet, and leathern sheet.

A little beyond Márton Vásár, are several villages built under ground, the roof being the only part visible. These houses are mere holes cut in the ground, roofed in with straw, and entered by a sloping path, frequently without any other opening than the doorway and chimney, and as filthy as can well be imagined. What renders the fact more extraordinary is that one of these villages was inhabited entirely by noblemen, that is, by men who possessed a small portion of land, paid no taxes to government, and were free from all seigneurial impositions. Such villages, or houses, are extremely rare in any other part of Hungary, though during the wars with the Turks, a great part of the country was reduced to a similar state.

Vesprim, still further on the route, is the seat of a Catholic bishop, and contains a handsome Episcopal palace, on the summit of a steep hill, where formerly stood one of the most important fortresses of Hungary. This was a long time in possession of the Turks, and contains a memorial of their residence, the more interesting from its rarity. One slender minaret, erected by the Turks, above an old Gothic tower, still retains its elegant proportions. It now serves as a watch-tower against fire: where the muezzim daily called the

faithful Moslem to his spiritual duties; a watchman now warns his Christian brethren of danger to their worldly goods.

The Balaton lake, or Platten Sea, is about fifty miles long, and from one to eight broad, and abounds in excellent fish. There is not a single trading barge, nor a sailing boat on the lake. Never was there a people who had less natural disposition to navigation than the Hungarians.

One has a fine opportunity of seeing Hungarian fashionables at Fured. The Hungarian ladies are decidedly handsome; their characteristics are large, full eyes, very dark hair, with fair complexions; features of little regularity, but delicately formed, especially the mouth and chin. Dancing is a favorite amusement with the Hungarians, and one sees abundance of it at Fured. At the balls no introduction to the ladies is required; the first partner who offers is accepted. They whirl two or three times around the room, and then the gentlemen sit their ladies down, and away with others. Scarce a word seems to be exchanged; dancing is the object, and they never seem to lose sight of it. Except the dancers, the gentlemen stand in the middle of the room, while the ladies sit in a row all around the wall; the sexes, except for the purpose of dancing, seem to be as rigidly separated as in a Methodist meeting.

The Hungarian national dance is full of expression, and requires skill to perform it well. A lady and gentleman stand up, and dance opposite each other. The gentleman commences a variety of contortions, gradually increasing from calm to wild, jumping about in all manner of forms, and making innumerable steps; while the lady seems to keep up a sort of running accompaniment, very modest in its gestures, and always retiring as her partner advances. The dance becomes quicker and quicker as it goes on, till at last the gentleman seizes his partner in his arms, whirls her round and round, quits her, again seizes her, and again whirling round, at last conducts her to a seat, quite exhausted with fatigue. It is a complete pantomime: it shows the courtship of the lover, the coy reserve of the maiden, the gradual yielding of her reserve, the final triumph of love, and the wild joy it excites, in the various movements of the dance.

One of the most popular pilgrimages in the environs of Fured, is to the romantic Tihany, a fairy-like island, situated in the Balaton lake, containing a pretty village, and a monastery belonging to a community of monks. The whole of their little territory, about three leagues in circumference, is completely surrounded by a chain of rocks, where they have their own forests, pastures, corn-fields, and vineyards. It was formerly strongly fortified, and the remains of the walls, castle, and watch-tower, still exist; but the most interesting objects are the caverns, which the monks of the middle ages ingeniously constructed, for the purpose of protecting themselves, and their property against the frequent devastations of their predatory neighbors, the Turks.

CHAPTER II.

THE Puszta-Villages on the Puszta-Shepherds-the Bunda-Debreczin-Brace, the American Traveler-Singular Law-Polite Manners of the People-National Airs-Peasant Life-Attachment of the Peasantry to Kossuth-Religions Character of the Hungarians— Voyage down the Danube-Mohacs-Peter wardein-the Military Frontier-Life of the Military Peasants-Semlin and the Crusaders-Horrid Fate of Dosa-Wild Scenery of the Lower Danube-Tablet of Trajan-Entrance into Turkey--Interview with a Turkish Pacha.

MR. SPENCER, on his return to Pesth, embarked on board of a small steamer, for Galitz, a Turkish town on the Danube. But few passengers were on the boat, and these were principally Hungarian noblemen, on their way to the fashionable bath Mehadia, in the Banate.

The scenery, after leaving Pesth, was neither interesting nor striking. Water-mills, islands covered with foliage, a few straggling villages of the peasants, together with the primitive vessels of the Danube boatmen, lent their aid in giving some variety to the landscape; while numerous flocks of wild fowl rent the air with their piercing cries, and the very eagles, unaccustomed to being disturbed by man, in this half deserted country, approached the steamer within half pistol shot.

On their left, extended the vast plain, or "the Puszta" of Hungary, which occupies nearly the whole country from the Danube to the borders of Transylvania, being an area equal to half of Ohio. As this is an interesting part of Hungary, and out of the line of Mr. Spencer's observations, we derive the following description of the Puszta, and the character of its inhabitants, from other sources:

Most of the Puszta is of a rich soil, and in places, covered with a rich black loam, of almost incredible fertility. In any other part of the civilized world we should see it teeming with habitations, and alive with agricultural industry-the envy of the surrounding province, the granary of nations. But it is very thinly settled, and poorly cultivated. Most of its inhabitants are Magyars, whose warlike propensities, continually indulged, until the middle of the last century, has checked the increase of population. The ease too, with which land is obtained, its richness, and the few wants of the people, have also been additional causes, tending to the same result. It has, however, cities, towns, and villages, generally large and populous. In some parts, the traveler meets them every three or four hours; in others, for a whole day, no such welcome sight comes to gladden his weary eye. It is generally a flat plain, and in places, the only inanimate objects which break the uniformity of the scene, is an occasional shepherd's hut, or the tall beam of a well. Of animated nature, however, there is no lack; the constant hum of insects, the scream of birds of prey, and the lowing of cattle, evince that the Puszta is no desert. The phenomena of the mirage is oftened witnessed. Picturesque villages, beautiful lakes of water, and other like visions, rise before the traveler, only to vanish as he approaches them.

The feeling of solitude which a vast plain impresses on the imagination, is as solemn as that produced by the boundless ocean. This impression is more

strongly felt during the short moments of twilight, which follow the setting of the sun. It is just as the bright orb has disappeared below the level of the horizon, while yet some red tints, like glow-worm traces, mark the pathway he has followed; just when the busy hum of insects is hushed as by a charm, and stillness fills the air; when the cold chills of night creep over the earth; when comparative darkness has suddenly followed the bright glare of day; it is then the stranger feels how lone he is, and how awful such loneliness is, where the eye sees no boundary, and the ear detects no sign of living thing.

The Puszta villages are large; sometimes containing thousands of inhabitants. Nothing can be more simple or uniform than the plan on which they are built. One long, straight, and most preposterously wide street, generally forms the whole village; or it may be that this street is traversed at right angles by another equally long, wide, and straight. Smaller streets seldom occur; but when they do they are all parallel, or at right angles to each other. All the cottages are built on the same plan; a gable end, with two small windows, shaded by acacias or walnuts, faces the street. The houses are beautifully thatched with reeds, and the fences of the court-yard are often formed of the same material. The long one-storied house, roofed with wooden tiles, the best in the village-unless the Seigneur's château happens to be there, and behind which towers the odd, half-eastern steeple, is the dwelling of the priest; and should the traveler find himself benighted in the neighborhood, its rich and hospitable occupant would welcome the chance which bestowed on him a guest. A little further, perhaps, stands another house, whose pretensions, if below the priest's, are above those of its neighbors. On the shutters is pasted up some official notice, and before the door stands the stocks. It is the dwelling of the "biro," or judge of the village. The town-house, the modest school-house, and the little inn, are the only other exceptions to the peasants' cottages. Beside the avenues of trees on each side, and in wet weather, sundry pools of water, or rather small lakes, the street is often interrupted by the tall pole of a well, or the shed of a horse-mill. In the neighborhood of the villages, a certain portion of the land is cultivated, perhaps a tenth of the whole; and produces rich crops of corn, wheat, hemp, flax, tobacco and wine. The gathering in of these scanty crops occupies the scanty population, without intermission, from the beginning of summer to the end of autumn.

The part of the plains left for pasture is occupied, during the summer months, by immense herds of cattle and flocks of sheep. In the winter, these are either brought up into the villages, or stabled in those solitary farms which form another striking peculiarity of the Puszta. Far from beaten track or village, the traveler observes a collection of buildings inclosed by a thick wall of mud or straw, with an arched gateway, and containing a large court surrounded by stables, barns, sheep-houses, and a shepherd's cottage or two. Here the cattle and sheep are wintered, for the sake of saving the draught of fodder; and here their guardians often remain the whole winter without exchanging a word with any other human beings than those composing their own little domestic community, for the trackless snow renders communication