PREFACE
ADDRESSED BY
THE AUTHOR TO ONE OF HIS FRIENDS.
When you first entertained the idea of travelling in the East, you asked me to send you an outline of the tour which I had made, in order that you might the better be able to choose a route for yourself. In answer to this request, I gave you a large French map, on which the course of my journeys had been carefully marked; but I did not conceal from myself, that this was rather a dry mode for a man to adopt, when he wished to impart the results of his experience to a dear and intimate friend. Now, long before the period of your planning an Oriental tour, I had intended to write some account of my Eastern Travels. I had, indeed, begun the task, and had failed; I had begun it a second time, and failing again, had abandoned my attempt with a sensation of utter distaste. I was unable to speak out, and chiefly, I think, for this reason—that I knew not to whom I was speaking. It might be you, or, perhaps, our Lady of Bitterness, who would read my story; or it might be some member of the Royal Statistical Society, and how on earth was I to write in a way that would do for all three?
Well—your request for a sketch of my tour suggested to me the idea of complying with your wish by a revival of my twice abandoned attempt. I tried, and the pleasure and confidence which I felt in speaking to you, soon made my task so easy, and even amusing, that after a while
