Messrs. Editors: It was in the beginning of May that I reached a village in the central part of Hungary, lying in the great plain which stretches from the Theiss to the foot of the Carpathians, on the eastern borders. It will be unadvisable, for obvious reasons, for me to give the name of the village more particularly. Suffice it to say it was a town in the very center of the land, entirely inhabited by the Bauer, and with no nobleman owning a foot of ground in the limits. It was quite probable I was one of the first travelers - certain the first American - who had ever entered it. It was so far removed from the great routes, that only two or three in the whole population could be found who even spoke German. A better example of a simple Hungarian village could not probably be met with in the land. I had reached there, as I traveled every where in the interior of Hungary, in a private carriage from the last gentleman whom I was visiting. This is the universal custom in the country, and is a part of that generous hospitality which comes so strikingly before the stranger, every where in Hungary. It is almost a necessary politeness, as the public conveyances are few,and it is not easy for a stranger to hire others.

I was furished with a letter to the clergymen, and though his German was somewhat limited, he received me with the heartiest welcome, ana by the aid of mingled Latin, Hungarian, and gestures, we managed to understand each other moderately well. He entered at once heartily into my design of seeing Hungary - cven the country life - and in the afternoon took me on a long walk through the village.

It appears the Bauer here had never been, at least for many hundred years, under feudal exactions. Though they were not allowed till 1848 to vote for members of the National Parliament, they had the right to elect their own town-officers, and the only burdens upon them were the duty of military service to the State, and certain light taxes. Under such a system, with their own judges, their own aldermen, and managing independently the affairs of their township, there had grown up a very sturdy, free population in the village. There were no nobles there - no rich landholders, but there was no poverty and no slavishness. As I walked around among them, they seemed to me like men - free, independent men - more than any population almost I had ever met.

As I learned afterwards, there are large districts in various parts of Hungary, where the in any other land one would stop to gaze at, though here they are scarcely remarkable. The more I saw of this people here, and also in other parts of Inner Hungary, the more I was struck with the advantages to a nation of a free agricultural life. There was a certain richness and heartiness of feeling, a certain manliness in them, such as one would seldom see in a manufacturing class. They came before me like the early patriarchs - simple, dignified men, with a courteous hospitality and a poetry too, which, we must believe marked those fathers of our race. It was very striking here, in this village, to see middle-aged men with their flowing beards, meeting one another with a kiss. Then the Bauer, wherever we visited, met us with such real courtesy - poured out their best before us, and always insisted on going out even to the last gate, to accompany us. It seems, too, as if their life, on these vast plains, with their herds, so solitary, in the starry nights, and amid such grand scenery - and their pursuits, so often in the free air, had given them a wild, poetic turn, which history shows us to have belonged to the early shepherds and farmers on the Chal-dee plains.

No where did Kossuth's poetic eloquence find such a passionate response as among these farming-peasants of the Hungarian plain. His appeals to the great Being who watches over the rights of his creatures, and whom he called the God of Hungary, seemed to them to come from some one almost superhuman. As he spoke of freedom, of brotherhood, of the wrongs of their fatherland, and the disgrace of slavery, they answered with tears and with shouts of enthusiasm. Through the villages of Central Hungary there was scarcely a peasant who could grasp scythe or whip, who did not march out at his call to join the Hungarian army.

An agricultural population usually strikes one as inferior to a manufacturing in activity of thought; but this fault does not appear among these farmers of the Hungarian plain. The incessant political life and movement, through their whole history, in Hungary, have, beyond anything, educated the people. And one could see that these men had not grown dull or inactive at all in their secluded life.

But especially could you observe the advantage of their pursuits in their full, vigorous, manly forms. It was a pleasure to look at men so healthy, and enjoying such a fullness of life, without too the usual sensuality which accomthe race, hoping some useful hints might be derived for America on the subject. This seemed more desirable, as there is no country of Europe so resembling our own, or at least the Middle States of our own, in climate. The same extremes of heat and cold; the same sudden, violent changes of temperature; the same clear, stimulating atmosphere, which mark the American climate, and distinguish it from the usual European. There are districts in Hungary which produce the most delicious grapes and melons and peaches in summer, which are buried in snow in winter, precisely like the inland counties some years in New-York. And in traveling over the best part of the land, I might have thought, as far as productions were concerned, I was journeying through the plains of inner New York or Pennsylvania; the only exception being the vine, for the want of which in America I am disposed to think the cause is not to be sought in the climate.

In respect to the habits of the people, the great peculiarity seemed to be their temperance in eating and drinking, and at the same time their making of the meals a pleasant social occasion, and not merely a means of filling up the stomachs. When I say they are "temperate," I mean they indulge in no excess; as, in respect to wine-drinking, there is scarcely a man in the land who does not drink the light wine at his dinner and supper. But with the Hungarian the meal-time is a time for social intercourse, when friends meet; or when the children and relatives all gather with the parents, and have almost their only merry, familiar conversation, during the day. They sit a great while at table, and taste of a great variety of dishes, at least among the better classes. Still they are not by any means as hearty eaters as the Americans or English. Indeed, to a traveler with a keen appetite, or to one accustomed to the vigorous exploits of the English at the table,the Hungarians seem really abstemious. They make much more use of fruits, and salads, and curious puddings, and the light pure wines, than we of the Anglo Saxon race. Indeed a Hungarian would consider himself in danger of becoming a sot, if he should drink every day the strong brandied wines which every Englishman has on his table.