greatest precision and nicety, to avoid a confusion of character. And these men I speak of, are such as cross the seas and sojourn in a land of strangers, with a view of saving money for various reasons and upon various pretences: but as they might also save themselves and others a great deal of unnecessary trouble by saving their money at home-and as their reasons for traveling are the least complex of any other species of emigrants, I shall distinguish these gentlemen by the name of Simple Travellers. Thus the whole circle of travellers may be reduced to the following Heads: Then follow: Idle Travellers, Inquisitive Travellers, Lying Travellers, Vain Travellers, Splenetic Travellers. The Travellers of Necessity, The Delinquent and Felonious Traveller, And last of all (if you please) The Sentimental Traveller (meaning thereby myself) who have traveled, and of which I am now sitting down to give an account as much out of Necessity, and the besoin de Voyager, as any one in the class. I am well aware, at the same time, as both my travels and observations will be altogether of a different cast from any of my forerunners, that I might have insisted upon a whole nitch entirely to myself— but 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 tra veller 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 dreamed of drinking the same wine at the Cape, that the same grape produced upon the French mountains-he was too phlegmatic for thatbut 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 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 even 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 Panca said to Don Quixote, they might have seen dryshod 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 wooed, or more surely won, than here-where art is encouraged, and will so 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 theyYour 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 Désobligeant.-It would have been better, said I, in a Vis-a-Vis. -As an Englishman does not travel to see Englishmen, I retired to my room. CALAIS. I PERCEIVED that something darkened the passage more than myself, as I stepped along it to my room; it was effectually Monsieur 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 Désobligeant; and Monsieur Dessein speaking of it with a shrug, as if it would no way suit me, it immediately struck my fancy that it belonged to some Innocent Traveller, who, on his return home, had left it to Monsieur Dessein's honour to make the most of. Four months had elapsed since it had finished its career of Europe in the corner of Monsieur Dessein's coach-yard; and having sallied out from thence but a vampt-up business at the first, though it had been twice taken to pieces on Mount Sennis, it had not profited much by its adventures-but by none so little as the standing so many months unpitied in the corner of Monsieur Dessein's coach-yard. Much indeed was not to be said for it—but something might—and when a few words will rescue misery out of her distress, I hate the man who can be'a churl of them. -Now was I the master of this hotel, said I, laying the point of my fore-finger on Monsieur Dessein's breast, I would inevitably make a point of getting rid of this unfortunate Désobligeant-it stands swinging reproaches at you every time you pass by it. Mon Dieu! said Monsieur Dessein, I have no interest-Except the interest, said I, which men of a certain turn of mind take, Monsieur Dessein, in their own sensations-I'm persuaded, to a man who feels for others as well as for himself, every rainy night, disguise it as you will, must cast a damp upon your spirits-You suffer, Monsieur Dessein, as much as the machine I have always observed, when there is as much sour as sweet in a compliment, that an Englishman is eternally at a loss within himself, whether to take it, or let it alone: a Frenchman never is: Monsieur Dessein made me a bow. C'est bien vrai, said he-But in this case I should only exchange one disquietude for another, and with loss: figure to yourself, my dear Sir, that in giving you a chaise which would fall to pieces before you had got half way to Paris-figure to yourself how much I should suffer, in giving an ill impression of myself to a man of honour, and lying at the mercy, as I must do, d'un homme d'esprit. The dose was made up exactly after my own prescription; so I could not help taking it--and returning Monsieur Dessein his bow, without more casuistry we walked together towards his Remise, to take a view of his magazine of chaises. IN THE STREET. Calais. IT must needs be a hostile kind of a world, when the buyer (if it be but of a sorry post-chaise) cannot go forth with the seller thereof into the street to terminate the difference betwixt them, but he instantly falls into the same frame of mind, and views his conventionist with the same sort of eye, as if he was going along with him to Hyde-park corner to fight a duel. For my own part, being but a poor swordsman, and no way match for Monsieur Dessein, I felt the rotation of all the movements within me, to which the situation is incident-I looked at Monsieur Dessein through and through-eyed him as he walk'd along in profile-then, en face-thought like a Jewthen a Turk-disliked his wig-cursed him by my gods-wished him at the devil -And is all this to be lighted up in the heart for a beggarly account of three or four louis d'ors, which is the most I can be overreached in?-Base passion! said I, turning myself about, as a man naturally does upon a sudden reverse of sentiment-base, ungentle |