THE MONK. Calais. My heart smote me the moment he shut the door-Psha! said I, with an air of carelessness, three several times-but it would not do: every ungracious syllable I had uttered crowded back into my imagination: I reflected, I had no right over the poor Franciscan, but to deny him; and that the punishment of that was enough to the disappointed without the addition of unkind language-I considered his gray hairs-his courteous figure seemed to reenter and gently ask me what injury he had done me?-and why I could use him thus-I would have given twenty livres for an advocate-I have behaved very ill, said I within myself; but I have only just set out upon my travels; and shall learn better manners as I get along. THE DESOBLIGEANT. Calais. When a man is discontented with himself, it has one advantage however, that it puts him into an excellent frame of mind for making a bargain. Now there being no travelling through France and Italy without a chaise-and Nature generally prompting us to the thing we are fittest for, I walked out into the coach yard to buy or hire something of that kind to my purpose: an old Désobligeant in the furthest cor. ner of the court, hit my fancy at first sight, so I instantly got into it, and finding it in tolerable harmony with my feelings, I ordered the waiter to call Monsieur Dessein the master of the hotel-but Monsieur Dessein being gone to vespers, and not caring to face the Franciscan, whom I saw on the opposite side of the court, in conference with a lady just arrived at the innI drew the taffeta curtain betwixt us, and being determined to write my journey, I took out my pen and ink, and wrote the preface to it in the Désobligeant. PREFACE. In the Désobligeant. IT must have been observed by many a peripatetic philosopher, that nature has set up by her own unquestionable authority certain boundaries and fences to circumscribe the discontent of man; she has effected her purpose in the quietest and easiest manner by laying him under almost insuperable obligations to work out his ease, and to sustain his sufferings at home. It is there only that she has provided him with the most suitable objects to partake of his happiness, and bear a part of that burden which in all countries and ages has "A chaise, so called in France, from its holding but one person. ever been too heavy for one pair of shoulders, 'Tis true, we are endued with an imperfect power of spreading our happiness sometimes beyond her limits, but 'tis so ordered, that from the want of languages, connexions, and dependencies, and from the differences in education, customs, and habits, we lie under so many impediments in communicating our sensations out of our own sphere, as often amount to a total impossibility. It will always follow from hence, that the balance of sentimental commerce is always against the expatriated adventurer; he must buy what he has little occasion for, at their own price-his conversation will seldom be taken in exchange for theirs without a large discount-and this, by the by, eternally driving him into the hands of more equitable brokers, for such conversation as he can find, it requires no great spirit of divination to guess at his party This brings me to my point; and naturally leads me (if the seesaw of this Désobligeant will but let me get on) into the efficient as well as final causes of traveling Your idle people that leave their native country, and go abroad for some reason or reasons which may be derived from one of these general causes Infirmity of body, The two first include all those who travel by land or by water, labouring with pride, curiosity, vanity, or spleen, subdivided and combined in infinitum. The third class includes the whole army of peregrine martyrs; more especially those travellers who set out upon their travels with the benefit of the clergy, either as delinquents travelling under the direction of governors recommended by the magistrate or young gentlemen transported by the cruelty of parents and guardians, and travelling under the direction of governors recommended by Oxford, Aberdeen, and Glasgow. There is a fourth class, but their number is so small that they would not deserve a distinction, were it not necessary in a work of this nature to observe the 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 va. rious 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 travelling 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 : Idle Travellers, Inquisitive Travellers, Lying Travellers, Proud Travellers, Vain Travellers, Then follow: The Travellers of Necessity, The Delinquent and Felonious Traveller, And last of all (if you please) The Sentimental Traveller (meaning thereby myself) who have travelled, 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 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 dreamed of drinking the same wine at the |