fellow-countrymen, an English club, a rubber of whist in the afternoon if he wishes for it, lawn-tennis grounds innumerable, possibly even a pack of hounds; and he will be invited to dinners and balls, at which he may perchance from time to time meet a stray foreigner or two, just as he might in London. With this state of things the generality of us are very well contented. We no longer think, as Lord Chesterfield did, that “it is of much more consequence to know the _mores multorum hominum_ than the _urbes_;” and the instructions issued by that shrewd old gentleman to his son, when the latter was completing his education in foreign parts, are simply amazing to fathers who live in the latter part of the nineteenth century. “I hope,” says he, “that you will employ the evenings in the best company in Rome. Go to whatever assemblies or _spectacles_ people of fashion go to. Endeavor to outshine those who shine there the most; get the _garbo_, the _gentilezza_, the _leggiadria_ of the Italians.... Of all things I beg of you not to herd with your countrymen, but to be always either with the Romans or with the foreign ministers residing at Rome,” and so forth. Fancy advising a young man of the present day to “get the _garbo_ of the Italians,” and imagining that he would, or could, do any such thing! Lord Chesterfield, no doubt, was able to procure admission for his son into “the best company” at Rome and elsewhere; but in the præ-railway era most European capitals were very hospitably disposed towards persons of less distinction. Provided that these were decent sort of folks, and that they were received by their ministers, no further questions were asked, and every facility was afforded them for acquiring the _garbo_ of the Italians and whatever other distinctive attributes the French or Germans may have been supposed to possess. It is probable that they did not take much advantage of these opportunities, for the English are not naturally imitative; but at all events they learnt something about the manners and customs of their entertainers. Most of us have seen letters written by our grandfathers—possibly even by our fathers—which testify, with that old-fashioned fulness of style which cheap postage has killed, what a much more amusing experience travel was then than it is now. The writers had all kinds of small adventures, incidents, and impressions to recount; they jogged leisurely along the highroads of Europe in their heavy travelling carriages, keeping their eyes open as they went; when they reached a famous city they did not set to work to calculate in how few days the sights of that city could be seen and done with, but hired for themselves a house or an _appartement_, prepared for a long stay, and presented their letters of introduction. Of course they were in a small minority. Half a century ago it was not everybody who had time enough or money enough to leave home for an indefinite period.