The Delinquent and Felonious Traveller, The Unfortunate and Innocent Traveller, The Simple 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 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 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 phleg A CADE "Good Hope matic 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 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 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 wooed, or more surely won, than here, where 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 désobligeant. It would have been better, said I, in a vis-à-vis. As an Englishman does not travel to see Englishmen, I retired to my room. I PERCEIVED 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 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 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 honor to make the most of. Four months had elapsed since it had finished its career 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 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 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, laying the point of my forefinger on Mons. 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 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. |