espect to any one who may claim it.

We lodged in the Hotel de la Belle Venise, situated half-way up a steep
street--name not mentioned in my journal--leading from the lower end of
the Strada Toledo. We were bent on traveling cheaply, and did not think
four _carlines_ a day too dear for a room. This hint is not intended as
information to any who may follow in our footsteps; but it illustrates
our character and position, and explains why in the course of our
wanderings we were always meeting with strange adventures. A man may
travel from Dan to Beersheba in first-class carriages of railways,
coupes of diligences, saloons of steamers; he may put up at the best
hotels, and hire the cleverest guides, and he will see nothing, learn
nothing, feel nothing, but what has been seen, learned, and felt by his
predecessors. But we defy even the shyest Englishman to undertake the
tour of Europe on economical principles, unless he be positively
determined to keep his eyes and heart as close shut as his pocket,
without bringing back something to remember to the end of his
days--something to make his eyes grow dim when he meditates on it, his
lips tremble when he speaks of it, his hand falter when he writes of it.
For in this system of traveling he is forced, while in a mood of mind
highly susceptible of impressions, into contact with all sorts of
characters and incidents; and if he has a spark of nature in him, it
must be struck out.

We dined the first evening at the Trattoria dell' Errole, and took an
ice at the Caffe di Europa. But our heads were in a disagreeable whirl,
and we enjoyed nothing. We missed the creaking and the groaning of the
Maria Christina; for which the rumbling of a few carriages, and the buzz
of voices on the promenade, seemed--such is the force of habit--an
insignificant compensation. Lines of well-lit shops, crowds of
well-dressed people, balconies filled with ladies, colonnades of
churches, and facades of palaces, danced dimly before our eyes, instead
of the accustomed cordages, the naked masts, the smutty sail, the
breast-high bulwarks, and that horrid squat funnel, with its cascade of
black smoke tinged, as it rolled forth, with a dull red glow. When I
retired to rest, I caught myself holding on to the bed as I prepared to
get into it; and I dreamed of nothing all night but of trampling of feet
overhead, whistling of wind through rigging, shifting of the
anchor-chain, and all sorts of abominable noises. The