Of the three books to which we invite attention, Mr. Froude's is least like the average book of travel, and undoubtedly is the most suggestive of thought. Whether we agree with Mr. Froude or whether we do not, it is always a pleasure to read him. The 'shoddy' work which extends to everything in the present day, and which is eating into the very heart of our new literature, has not corrupted the older handicraftsmen among us. Not one record of travel in a hundred deserves to be mentioned in the same breath with 'Oceana;' there are not very many books of the kind in the language which excel it in variety, in vigour of style, in picturesqueness of description, or in vivid glimpses of insight into personal character. Baron Hübner is a more genial, discursive, and garrulous traveller. He tells us everything that comes into his mind, and has a note about everything he saw. We must add that these notes are, generally speaking, of great interest, and often very amusing. He undertook a journey over the greater part of the British Dominions, at a somewhat advanced period of life, for his readers ought to be reminded that he is the last survivor of the Congress of Paris, and that few men have had more valuable experience in the diplomatic service. Before he started, the Baron heard that his project was freely discussed at the Traveller's Club. Some said, 'what a plucky old fellow he is!' His comment upon this shows that he knows something of men as well as of places: 'If any harm befals me, they will say, "what an old fool he was!"' Happily, there was no occasion for pronouncing this judgment upon him. He followed out his prescribed route with wonderful success, and he has presented a graceful and highly interesting narrative of his adventures. His observations may, in many respects, be usefully compared with those of Mr. Froude, though it will not do to carry this comparison much further. We must, however, do the Baron the justice to acknowledge, that he always manifests an earnest desire to be fair and just. As for the third book on our list, it has the advantage of being short and to the point, and the additional advantage of being founded upon a personal residence in one of the islands of the Western Pacific. Travels based upon something more substantial than a mere flying visit are not too common, and we are grateful to Mr. Romilly for making a very entertaining addition to the number. We should be equally glad to receive the account of North New Guinea which a Russian gentleman, Mr. Miklaho Maclay, is so well able to furnish. It so chanced that he was landed one night on the north coast of New Guinea, and in the morning the natives found him sitting upon his portmanteau, like a man waiting for a train. They took him for a being of supernatural origin, but by way of making sure, they fired arrows at the stranger, tied him to a tree, and forced spears down his throat. As he survived these injuries, though by a narrow chance, the first impression of the natives was confirmed, and Mr. Maclay was afterwards treated in a manner which seems to have left him little ground for complaint. Thus far Mr. Maclay, as Mr. Romilly informs us, has declined to commit any account of his experience to paper; but a resolution of this kind is seldom unalterable when a man has anything new to tell the world.