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get on) into the efficient as well as the final causes of travelling=
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 canses
Infirmity of body,
Imbecility of mind, or
The first two 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 pere grine martyrs; more especially those travellers who set out upon their travels with the benefit of the clergy, either as delinquents travelling under the dia rection of governors, recommended by the magis trate, 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, was it not necessary in a work of this nature to observe the greatest precision and nicety, to avoid a confu= sion 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 travelling are the least complex of any other species of emigrants, I shall distinguish these gentlemen by the name of
Thus the whole circle of travellers may be reduced to the following Heads:
Then follow the Travellers of necessity,
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 voya=" ger, 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 dif= ferent cast from any of fore-runners, that I might have insisted upon a whole niche 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 tras veller himself, that with study and reflexion here= upon, 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 Dutchman) never dreamt of drinking the same
wine at the cape, that the same grape produced upon the French mountains he was too phlegmatick for that but undoubtedly he expected to drink some sort of vinous liquor; but whether good, bad, or in= different 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 laughingstock 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 lot= tery and even where the adventurer is successful, the acquired stoek 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 ac= quisition and application, Iam of opinion, that a man would act as wisely, if he could prevail upon him= self 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 musick 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 where art is encouraged, and will 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
won than here so soon rise high
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 tra= veller 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 désobligeante. — It would have been better, said I, in a vis-a-vis.
As an Englishman does not travet to see En gbishmen, I retired to my room.
I FERCEIVED that something darkened the passage more than myself, as I stepped along it to my room; it was effectually Mons. Dessein, the master of the hótel, 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
désobligeante; and Mons. 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 Mons. Dessein's honour, to make the most of. Four months had elapsed since it had finished its ca= reer of Europe in the corner of Mons. 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 Cenis, it had not profited much by its adventures but by none so little as the standing so many months unpitied in the corner of Mons. 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, lay ing the point of my fore-finger on Mons. Dessein's breast, I would inevitably make a point of getting rid of this unfortunate désobligeante it stands swinging reproaches at you every time you pass by
Mon Dieu! said Mons. Dessein I have no interest Except the interest, said I, which men of a certain turn of mind take, Mons. 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, Mons. 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; Mons. Dessein made me a bow.