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The love of travel, we all know, flourished exceedingly in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. All classes felt the desire to go beyond seas upon

"Such wind as scatters young men through the world,

To seeke their fortunes farther than at home,

Where small experience growes."^[36]

The explorer and the poet, the adventurer, the prodigal and the earl's son, longed alike for foreign shores. What Ben Jonson said of Coryat might be stretched to describe the average Elizabethan: "The mere superscription of a letter from Zurich sets him up like a top: Basil or Heidelberg makes him spinne. And at seeing the word Frankford, or Venice, though but in the title of a Booke, he is readie to breake doublet, cracke elbowes, and overflowe the roome with his murmure."^[37] Happy was an obscure gentleman like Fynes Moryson, who could roam for ten years through the "twelve Dominions of Germany, Bohmerland, Sweitzerand, Netherland, Denmarke, Poland, Italy, Turkey, France, England, Scotland and Ireland" and not be peremptorily called home by his sovereign. Sad it was to be a court favourite like Fulke Greville, who four times, thirsting for strange lands, was plucked back to England by Elizabeth.

At about the time (1575) when some of the most prominent courtiers--Edward Dyer, Gilbert Talbot, the Earl of Hertford, and more especially Sir Christopher Hatton and Sir Philip Sidney--had just returned from abroad, book-publishers thought it worth while to print books addressed to travellers. At least, there grew up a demand for advice to young men which became a feature of Elizabethan literature, printed and unprinted. It was the convention for a young man about to travel to apply to some experienced or elderly friend, and for that friend to disburden a torrent of maxims after the manner of Polonius. John Florio, who knew the humours of his day, represents this in a dialogue in Second Frutes.^[38] So does Robert Greene in Greene's Mourning Garment.^[39] What were at first the personal warnings of a wise man to his young friend, such as Cecil's letter to Rutland, grew into a generalized oration for the use of any traveller. Hence arose manuals of instruction--marvellous little books, full of incitements to travel as the duty of man, summaries of the leading characteristics of foreigners, directions for the care of sore feet--and a strange medley of matters.

Among the first essays of this sort are translations from Germanic writers, with whom, if Turler is right, the book of precepts for travel originated. For the Germans, with the English, were the most indefatigable travellers of all nations. Like the English, they suddenly woke up with a start to the idea that they were barbarians on the outskirts of civilization, and like Chicago of the present day, sent their young men "hustling for culture." They took up assiduously not only the Renaissance ideal of travel as a highly educating experience, by which one was made a complete man intellectually, but also the Renaissance conviction that travel was a duty to the State. Since both Germany and England were somewhat removed from the older and more civilized nations, it was necessary for them to make an effort to learn what was going on at the centre of the world. It was therefore the duty of gentlemen, especially of noblemen, to whom the State would look to be directed, to search out the marts of learning, frequent foreign courts, and by knowing men and languages be able to advise their prince at home, after the manner set forth in Il Cortegiano. It must be remembered that in the sixteenth century there were no schools of political economy, of modern history or modern languages at the universities. A sound knowledge of these things had to be obtained by first-hand observation. From this fact arose the importance of improving one's opportunities, and the necessity for methodical, thorough inquiry, which we shall find so insisted upon in these manuals of advice.

Hieronymus Turlerus claims that his De Peregrinatione (Argentorati, 1574) is the first book to be devoted to precepts of travel. It was translated into English and published in London in 1575, under the title of The Traveiler of Jerome Turler, and is, as far as I know, the first book of the sort in England. Not much is known of Turler, save that he was born at Leissnig, in Saxony, in 1550, studied at Padua, became a Doctor of Law, made such extensive travels that he included even England--a rare thing in those days--and after serving as Burgomaster in his native place, died in 1602. His writings, other than De Peregrinatione, are three translations from Machiavelli.^[40]

Turler addresses to two young German noblemen his book "written on behalf of such as are desirous to travell, and to see foreine cuntries, and specially of students. … Mee thinkes they do a good deede, and well deserve of al men, that give precepts for traveyl. Which thing, althoughe I perceive that some have done, yet have they done it here and there in sundrie Bookes and not in any one certeine place." A discussion of the advantages of travel had appeared in Thomas Wilson's Arte of Rhetorique (1553),^[41] and certain practical directions for avoiding ailments to which travellers were susceptible had been printed in Basel in 1561,^[42] but Turler's would seem to be the first book devoted to the praise of peregrination. Not only does Turler say so himself, but Theodor Zwinger, who three years later wrote Methodus Apodemica, declares that Turler and Pyrckmair were his only predecessors in this sort of composition.^[43]

Pyrckmair was apparently one of those governors, or Hofmeister,^[44] who accompanied young German noblemen on their tours through Europe. He drew up a few directions, he declares, as guidance for himself and the Count von Sultz, whom he expected shortly to guide into Italy. He had made a previous journey to Rome, which he enjoyed with the twofold enthusiasm of the humanist and the Roman Catholic, beholding "in a stupor of admiration" the magnificent remnants of classic civilization and the institutions of a benevolent Pope.^[45]

From Plantin's shop in Antwerp came in 1587 a narrative by another Hofmeister--Stephen Vinandus Pighius--concerning the life and travels of his princely charge, Charles Frederick, Duke of Cleves, who on his grand tour died in Rome. Pighius discusses at considerable length,^[46] in describing the hesitancy of the Duke's guardians about sending him on a tour, the advantages and disadvantages of travel. The expense of it and the diseases you catch, were great deterrents; yet the widening of the mind which judicious travelling insures, so greatly outweighed these and other disadvantages, that it was arranged after much discussion, "not only in the Council but also in the market-place and at the dinner-table," to send young Charles for two years to Austria to the court of his uncle the Emperor Maximilian, and then to Italy, France, and Lower Germany to visit the princess, his relations, and friends, and to see life.

Theodor Zwinger, who was reputed to be the first to reduce the art of travel into a form and give it the appearance of a science,^[47] died a Doctor of Medicine at Basel. He had no liking for his father's trade of furrier, but apprenticed himself for three years to a printer at Lyons. Somehow he managed to learn some philosophy from Peter Ramus at Paris, and then studied medicine at Padua, where he met Jerome Turler.^[48] As Doctor of Philosophy and Medicine he occupied several successive professorships at Basel.

Even more distinguished in the academic world was the next to carry on the discussion of travel--Justus Lipsius. His elegant letter on the subject,^[49] written a year after Zwinger's book was published, was translated into English by Sir John Stradling in 1592.^[50] Stradling, however, has so enlarged the original by whatever fancies of his own occurred to him, that it is almost a new composition. Philip Jones took no such liberties with the "Method" of Albert Meier, which he translated two years after it was published in 1587.^[51] In his dedication to Sir Francis Drake of "this small but sweete booke of Method for men intending their profit and honor by the experience of the world," Jones declares that he first meant it only to benefit himself, "when pleasure of God, convenient time and good company" should draw him to travel.

The Pervigilium Mercurii of Georgius Loysius, a friend of Scaliger, was never translated into English, but the important virtues of a traveller therein described had their influence on English readers. Loysius compiled two hundred short petty maxims, illustrated by apt classical quotations, bearing on the correct behaviour and duties of a traveller. For instance, he must avoid luxury, as says Seneca; and laziness, as say Horace and Ovid; he must be reticent about his wealth and learning and keep his counsel, like Ulysses. He must observe the morals and religion of others, but not criticise them, for different nations have different religions, and think that their fathers' gods ought to be served diligently. He that disregards these things acts with pious zeal but without consideration for other people's feelings ("nulla ratione cujusque vocationis").^[52] James Howell may have read maxim 99 on how to take jokes and how to make them, "joci sine vilitate, risus sine cachinno, vox sine clamore" (let your jokes be free from vulgarity, your laugh not a guffaw, and your voice not a roar).

Loysius reflects the sentiment of his country in his conviction that "Nature herself desires that women should stay at home." "It is true throughout the whole of Germany that no woman unless she is desperately poor or 'rather fast' desires to travel."^[53]

Adding to these earliest essays the Oration in Praise of Travel, by Hermann Kirchner,^[54] we have a group of instructions sprung from German soil all characterized by an exalted mood and soaring style. They have in common the tendency to rationalize the activities of man, which was so marked a feature of the Renaissance. The simple errant impulse that Chaucer noted as belonging with the songs of birds and coming of spring, is dignified into a philosophy of travel.

Travel, according to our authors, is one of the best ways to gain personal force, social effectiveness--in short, that mysterious "virtù" by which the Renaissance set such great store. It had the negative value of providing artificial trials for young gentlemen with patrimony and no occupation who might otherwise be living idly on their country estates, or dissolutely in London. Knight-errantry, in chivalric society, had provided the hardships and discipline agreeable to youth; travel "for vertues sake, to apply the study of good artes,"^[55] was in the Renaissance an excellent way to keep a young man profitably busy. For besides the academic advantages of foreign universities, travel corrected the character. The rude and arrogant young nobleman who had never before left his own country, met salutary opposition and contempt from strangers, and thereby gained modesty. By observing the refinements of the older nations, his uncouthness was softened: the rough barbarian cub was gradually mollified into the civil courtier. And as for giving one prudence and patience, never was such a mentor as travel. The tender, the effeminate, the cowardly, were hardened by contention with unwonted cold or rain or sun, with hard seats, stony pillows, thieves, and highwaymen. Any simple, improvident, and foolish youth would be stirred up to vigilancy by a few experiences with "the subtelty of spies, the wonderful cunning of Inn-keepers and baudes and the great danger of his life."^[56] In short, the perils and discomforts of travel made a mild prelude to the real life into which a young man must presently fight his way. Only experience could teach him how to be cunning, wary, and bold; how he might hold his own, at court or at sea, among Elizabeth's adventurers.

However, this development of the individual was only part of the benefit of travel. Far more to be extolled was his increased usefulness to the State. That was the stoutest reason for leaving one's "owne sweete country dwellings" to endure hardships and dangers beyond seas. For a traveller may be of the greatest benefit to his own country by being able to compare its social, economic, and military arrangements with those of other commonwealths. He is wisely warned, therefore, against that fond preference for his own country which leads him to close his eyes to any improvement--"without just cause preferring his native country,"^[57] but to use choice and discretion, to see, learn, and diligently mark what in every place is worthy of praise and what ought to be amended, in magistrates, regal courts, schools, churches, armies--all the ways and means pertaining to civil life and the governing of a humane society. For all improvement in society, say our authors, came by travellers bringing home fresh ideas. Examples from the ancients, to complete a Renaissance argument, are cited to prove this.^[58] So the Romans sent their children to Marseilles, so Cyrus travelled, though yet but a child, so Plato "purchased the greatest part of his divine wisdome from the very innermost closets of Egypt." Therefore to learn how to serve one's Prince in peace or war, as a soldier, ambassador, or "politicke person," one must, like Ulysses, have known many men and seen many cities; know not only the objective points of foreign countries, such as the fortifications, the fordable rivers, the distances between places, but the more subjective characteristics, such as the "chief force and virtue of the Spanyardes and of the Frenchmen. What is the greatest vice in both nacions? After what manner the subjects in both countries shewe their obedience to their prince, or oppose themselves against him?"^[59] Here we see coming into play the newly acquired knowledge of human nature of which the sixteenth century was so proud. An ambassador to Paris must know what was especially pleasing to a Frenchman. Even a captain in war must know the special virtues and vices of the enemy: which nation is ablest to make a sudden sally, which is stouter to entertain the shock in open field, which is subtlest of the contriving of an ambush.

Evidently, since there is so varied a need for acquaintance with foreign countries, travel is a positive duty. Noah, Aristotle, Solomon, Julius Cæsar, Columbus, and many other people of authority are quoted to prove that "all that ever were of any great knowledge, learning or wisdom since the beginning of the world unto this present, have given themselves to travel: and that there never was man that performed any great thing or achieved any notable exploit, unless he had travelled."^[60]

This summary, of course, cannot reproduce the style of each of our authors, and only roughly indicates their method of persuasion. Especially it cannot represent the mode of Zwinger, whose contribution is a treatise of four hundred pages, arranged in outline form, by means of which any single idea is made to wend its tortuous way through folios. Every aspect of the subject is divided and subdivided with meticulous care. He cannot speak of the time for travel without discriminating between natural time, such as years and days, and artificial time, such as festivals and holidays; nor of the means of locomotion without specifying the possibility of being carried through the air by: (I) Mechanical means, such as the wings of Icarus; or (2) Angels, as the Apostle Philip was snatched from Samaria.^[61] In this elaborate method he found an imitator in Sir Thomas Palmer.^[62] The following, a mere truncated fragment, may serve to illustrate both books:--

"Travelling is either:--

I. Irregular.

II. Regular. Of Regular Travailers some be

A. Non-voluntaries, sent out by the prince,

and employed in matters of

1. Peace (etc.).

2. Warre (etc.).

B. Voluntaries. Voluntary Regular Travailers are considered 1. As they are moved accidentally. a. Principally, that afterwards they may leade a more quiet and contented life, to the glory of God. b. Secondarily, regarding ends, (i) Publicke. (a) What persons are inhibited travaile. (1) Infants, Decrepite persons, Fools, Women. (b) What times to travaile in are not fitte: (2) When our country is engaged in warres. (c) Fitte. (1) When one may reape most profit in shortest time, for that hee aimeth at. (2) When the country, into which we would travaile, holdeth not ours in jealousie, etc."

That the idea of travel as a duty to the State had permeated the Elizabethans from the courtier to the common sailor is borne out by contemporary letters of all sorts. Even William Bourne, an innkeeper at Gravesend, who wrote a hand-book of applied mathematics, called it The Treasure for Travellers^[63] and prefaced it with an exhortation in the style of Turler. In the correspondence of Lord Burghley, Sir Philip Sidney, Fulke Greville, the Earl of Essex, and Secretary Davison, we see how seriously the aim of travel was inculcated. Here are the same reminders to have the welfare of the commonwealth constantly in mind, to waste no time, to use order and method in observation, and to bring home, if possible, valuable information. Sidney bewails how much he has missed for "want of having directed my course to the right end, and by the right means." But he trusts his brother has imprinted on his mind "the scope and mark you mean by your pains to shoot at. Your purpose is, being a gentleman born, to furnish yourself with the knowledge of such things as may be serviceable to your country."^[64]

Davison urges the value of experience, scorning the man who thinks to fit himself by books: "Our sedentary traveller may pass for a wise man as long as he converseth either with dead men by reading, or by writing, with men absent. But let him once enter on the stage of public employment, and he will soon find, if he can but be sensible of contempt, that he is unfit for action. For ability to treat with men of several humours, factions and countries; duly to comply with them, or stand off, as occasion shall require, is not gotten only by reading of books, but rather by studying of men: yet this is ever held true. The best scholar is fittest for a traveller, as being able to make the most useful observations: experience added to learning makes a perfect man."^[65]

Both Essex and Fulke Greville are full of warnings against superficial and showy knowledge of foreign countries: "The true end of knowledge is clearness and strength of judgment, and not ostentation, or ability to discourse, which I do rather put your Lordship in mind of, because the most part of noblemen and gentlemen of our time have no other use nor end of their learning but their table-talk. But God knoweth they have gotten little that have only this discoursing gift: for, though like empty vessels they sound loud when a man knocks upon their outsides, yet if you pierce into them, you shall find that they are full of nothing but wind."^[66]

Lord Burghley, wasting not a breath, tersely instructs the Earl of Rutland in things worthy of observation. Among these are frontier towns, with what size garrison they are maintained, etc.; what noblemen live in each province, by what trade each city is supported. At Court, what are the natural dispositions of the king and his brothers and sisters, what is the king's diet, etc. "Particularly for yourself, being a nobleman, how noblemen do keep their wives, their children, their estates; how they provide for their younger children; how they keep the household for diet," and so on.^[67]

So much for the attitude of the first "Subsidium Peregrinantibus." It will be seen that it was something of a trial and an opportunity to be a traveller in Elizabethan times. But biography is not lacking in evidence that the recipients of these directions did take their travels seriously and try to make them profitable to the commonwealth. Among the Rutland papers^[68] is a plan of fortifications and some notes made by the Edward Manners to whom Cecil wrote the above letter of advice. Sir Thomas Bodley tells how full he was of patriotic intent: "I waxed desirous to travel beyond the seas, for attaining to the knowledge of some special modern tongues, and for the increase of my experience in the managing of affairs, being wholly then addicted to employ myself, and all my cares, in the public service of the state."^[69] Assurances of their object in travelling are written from abroad by Sir John Harington and the third Earl of Essex to their friend Prince Henry. Essex says: "Being now entered into my travels, and intending the end thereof to attain to true knowledge and to better my experience, I hope God will so bless me in my endeavours, that I shall return an acceptable servant unto your Highness."^[70] And Harington in the same vein hopes that by his travels and experience in foreign countries he shall sometime or other be more fit to carry out the commands of his Highness.^[71]

One of the particular ways of serving one's country was the writing of "Observations on his Travels." This was the first exercise of a young man who aspired to be a "politicke person." Harington promises to send to Prince Henry whatever notes he can make of various countries. Henry Wotton offers Lord Zouche "A View of all the present Almagne princes."^[72] The keeping of a journal is insisted upon in almost all the "Directions." "It is good," says Lord Burghley to Edward Manners, "that you make a booke of paper wherein you may dayly or at least weekly insert all things occurent to you,"^[73] the reason being that such observations, when contemporary history was scarce, were of value. They were also a guarantee that the tourist had been virtuously employed. The Earl of Salisbury writes severely to his son abroad:

FRANCIS MANNERS, SIXTH EARL OF RUTLAND Abroad in 1598. One of a family of Elizabethan travellers. Edward, third Earl of Rutland, received a letter of instruction from Lord Burleigh concerning what to observe in France in 1570. Roger, fifth Earl of Rutland, was directed by Bacon as to his travels in 1596.

"I find every week, in the Prince's hand, a letter from Sir John Harington, full of the news of the place where he is, and the countries as he passeth, and all occurents: which is an argument, that he doth read and observe such things as are remarkable."

This narrative was one of the chief burdens of a traveller. Gilbert Talbot is no sooner landed in Padua than he must write to his impatient parents and excuse himself for the lack of that "Relation." "We fulfil your honour's commaundement in wrytynge the discourse of our travayle which we would have sent with thes letres but it could not be caryed so conveniently with them, as it may be with the next letres we wryte."^[74] Francis Davison, the Secretary's son, could not get on, somehow, with his "Relation of Tuscany." He had been ill, he writes at first; his tutor says that the diet of Italy--"roots, salads, cheese and such like cheap dishes"--"Mr. Francis can in no wise digest," and after that, he is too worried by poverty. In reply to his father's complaints of his extravagance, he declares: "My promised relation of Tuscany your last letter hath so dashed, as I am resolved not to proceed withal."^[75] The journal of Richard Smith, Gentleman, who accompanied Sir Edward Unton into Italy in 1563, shows how even an ordinary man, not inclined to writing, conscientiously tried to note the fortifications and fertility of each province, whether it was "marvellous barren" or "stood chiefly upon vines"; the principal commodities, and the nature of the inhabitants: "The people (on the Rhine) are very paynefull and not so paynefull as rude and sluttyshe." "They are well faced women in most places of this land, and as ill-bodied."^[76]