of

both my travels and observations will be altogether of a different cast from any my forerunners; that I might have insisted upon a whole niche entirely to myselfbut I should break in upon the confines of the vain traveller, in wishing to draw attention towards me, till I have some better grounds for it than the mere novelty of my vehicle.

It is sufficient for my reader, if he has been a traveller himself, that with study and reflection hereupon, he may be able to determine his own place and rank in the catalogue-it will be one step towards knowing himself; as it is great odds, but he retains some tincture and resemblance of what he imbibed or carried out, to the present hour.

The man who first transplanted the grape of Burgundy to the Cape of Good Hope (observe he was a Dutchman) never dreamt of drinking the same wine at the Cape, that the same grape produced upon

the French mountains - he was too phlegmatic for that-but undoubtedly he expected to drink some sort of vinous liquor: but whether good, bad, or indifferent-he knew enough of this world to know, that it did not depend upon his choice, but that what is generally called chance was to decide his success: however, he hoped for the best ; and in these hopes, by an intemperate confidence in the fortitude of his head, and the depth of his discretion, Mynheer might possibly overset both in his new vineyard; and by discovering his nakedness, become a laughing-stock to his people.

Even so it fares with the poor

poor traveller, sailing and posting through the politer kingdoms of the globe, in pursuit of knowledge and improvements.

Knowledge and improvements are to be got by sailing and posting for that purpose; but whether useful knowledge and real improvements is all a lottery—and

where the adventurer is successful, the acquired stock must be used with caution and sobriety to turn to any profit --but as the chances run prodigiously the other way, both as to the acquisition and application, I am of opinion, that a man would act as wisely, if he could prevail upon himself to live contented without foreign knowledge, or foreign improvements, especially if he lives in a country that has no absolute want of either-and indeed, much grief of heart has it oft and many a time cost me, when I have observed how many a foul step the inquisitive traveller has measured to see sights, and look into discoveries; all which, as Sancho Pança said to Don Quixote, they might have seen dry-shod at home. It is an age so full of light, that there is scarce a country or corner of Europe whose beams are not crossed and interchanged with others-knowledge in most of its branches, and in most affairs, is like

music in an Italian street,whereof those may partake who pay nothing-But there is no nation under Heaven-and God is my record (before whose tribunal I must one day come, and give an account of this work)-that I do not speak it vauntingly -but there is no nation under Heaven abounding with more variety of learning -where the sciences may be more fitly woo'd, or more surely won, than herewhere art is encouraged, and will soon rise high-where Nature (take her altogether) has so little to answer for—and, to close all, where there is more wit and variety of character to feed the mind. with-Where then, my dear countrymen, are you going?—

We are only looking at this chaise, said they-Your most obedient servant, said I, skipping out of it, and pulling off my hat-We were wondering, said one of them, who, I found, was an inquisitive traveller-what could occasion its motion

'Twas the agitation, said I coolly, of writing a Preface-I never heard, said the other, who was a simple traveller, of a Preface wrote in a desobligeant-It would have been better, said I, in a vis-à-vis. -As an Englishman does not travel to seɛ Englishmen, I retired to my room.

CALAIS.

I PERCEIVED that something darkened the passage more than myself, as I step, ped along it to my room; it was effectually Mons. Dessein, the master of the hotel, who had just returned from vespers, and with his hat under his arm, was most complaisantly following me, to put me in mind of my wants. I had wrote myself pretty well out of conceit with the deso bligeant: and Mons. Dessein speaking of it, with a shrug, as if it would no ways