A CONVERSATION—WHERE SHALL WE GO FOR A HOLIDAY TRIP—ATTRACTIONS OF LAPLAND—REMINISCENCES OF ITALY—THE GRAND TOUR IN FORMER DAYS—HOW TO STUDY HISTORY—DIFFICULTY OF FINDING NEW GROUND FOR TRAVEL—AN INTERESTING COUNTRY WITHIN FIVE DAYS OF TEMPLE BAR.

"LET us go to Lapland!" was the exclamation which rang on my ear, as I was entering my club, one fine morning in the early part of June, 1873.

"Lapland!" said I, "what put that into your head?" 2

"Yes," replied my friend M—, in his rich, good-humoured voice, slightly flavoured with Hibernian Doric. "I hear that somebody has written a book about it. I have been everywhere else in Europe—and it is quite the place to go to now, you know. We shall pic-nic on Cape North and then drive across to Spitzbergen in reindeer sledges on the ice, it will be awfully jolly!" and his joyous laugh echoed through the hall. "Do come, like a good fellow," said he, "there will be just the four of us, R—, C—, yourself, and I, and you really must not say no, for we none of us can speak a word of anything but English, while you speak every language under the sun. So agree to it at once; let us all meet here to dinner, to-morrow at six, and then off by the mail to Calais."

At first I thought that M— was chaffing; but having now been joined by R— and C—, who at once chimed in on the same subject, I said,

"Have you any idea about Lapland, my dear M—, do you know anything about it? and what do you expect to see there?" 3

"Oh, dear me, yes," replied he, "it is a country in the North of Europe, surrounded on all sides either by land or by water, and inhabited by men who are four feet six high, and the darlingest little women just four feet nothing. They go to church on Sundays, riding on reindeer, and shoot Polar bears with bows and arrows! Oh dear, yes, I know all about Lapland."

"Not at all a bad account," said I, "but what writes Captain Hutchinson in his book? Is his description of Lapland very captivating?"

"Well," answered M—, "I confess I have not read his book; but go abroad I must, London is getting too stupid, and I have been everywhere else in Europe; and I want to see a country out of the beaten track, something I have not yet seen."

"Now, my dear fellow," said I, "though I have not been exactly in Lapland, I have been in Finland, and that, you know, is just next door to it; and knowing what the mosquitoes are in those swampy northern latitudes, nothing 4 could induce me to visit those countries again in Summer, except for very cogent reasons indeed. But come now, tell me where have you been, that you say you have seen every other country in Europe?"

"Well," answered M—. "I have been twice to Italy, up and down, and done it as thoroughly as any man could do it. I have been—"

"Stop a wee," said I, "how have you done Italy? let me see, suppose we just begin in the middle, let us take Florence—no doubt you were there."

"Oh dear, yes, and such a jolly place, where one could live and love for ever! oh, yes,

"'Of all the fairest cities of the world,

None is so fair as Florence!'

"If it were not for the heat, and having been there twice already, it would beat going to see the sun at midnight, which we shall see in Lapland, old fellow. We shall see the sun going right round the horizon, neither rising nor setting—not a bit—but going just as in the old riddle we had when we were children, 'going round and round the house, and 5 never touching the house.' So now no more 'shirking and lurking,' but let's be off to Lapland, and if there are a few mosquitoes, we can take plenty of flea-powder to protect us; there now, I'll stand the flea-powder—a whole pound's worth," and the laugh of that excellent fellow rings in my ears still.

Here R— joined in the conversation; he had never been to Italy, and his curiosity was raised by the enthusiastic expressions of my friend M—, in regard to Florence.

"Do tell us something about that place, where you could live and love for ever," said he.

"Well, what can I tell you?" replied M—. "Florence was the capital of Tuscany, and is situated on the banks of the river Arno, and it is a most delightful place. What more do you want? There is the charming Mrs. —, and her equally charming daughter, whose house opens just as the opera closes; and once there, one never thinks of leaving till three o'clock in the morning at soonest. Then there are the Cascine, the Café Doney, and the club, and my 6 friend G. M—y; and then the churches and the galleries, and the pietre dure, &c., &c., I did every one of them."

"Where did you go when you left Florence?"

"To Rome, naturally."

"So all you know about Tuscany and Central Italy resolves itself into the Cascine, the Café Doney, and our friend G. M—y. Did you not even visit Siena on your way to Rome?"

"No, for, being fond of the sea, I went to Rome by Civita Vecchia."

"When you were at Civita Vecchia, did it not come into your head to visit the birth-place of the Tarquins—Corneto? only a short drive from Civita Vecchia, and one of the most interesting places in Italy."

"I never even heard of it," said M—.

I was going to say ex uno disce omnes, this is how la jeunesse doré of the present time travel on the continent—to finish their education, by the way! but my remark would be of too sweeping a character, for there are many exceptions to be met with occasionally. Still, though travelling is multiplied a thousand-fold compared with what it used to 7 be even only a century ago, it is doubtful, I think, if travelling is as fruitful of good results in our days as it used to be in the days of our grandfathers, when, under the guidance of a well qualified tutor, young men used to take the "grand tour" with a view to completing their education, the foundation and groundwork of which had been laid first in our public schools, and then in our great universities. Now my friend M— was a charming fellow, well educated to a certain point, pleasant, agreeable, and good-tempered; he had travelled a good deal, and yet I may safely say he had seen nothing, and simply because he had not prepared himself for travelling with a view to thoroughly seeing the countries he intended visiting, and obtaining the information they could bestow. And how many are there that just travel in the same way! How many are there among those who yearly flood the approaches to the Eternal City who do more than lounge about the galleries, the Campo Vaccino, or the Pincian Hill! and who, if asked about the City of Veii (for instance) will simply open their eyes and say they never heard of it, where is it? Why, my good 8 fellow, Veii was a great city, and its inhabitants among the most civilized and luxurious in the world, long before Rome was built. What! before Rome was built? he will say; and then if some mild reminiscence of the kind comes across his memory, he may, perhaps, recall some fleeting visions of Agamemnon and Mycen?, taking it for granted that Veii, if anterior to Rome, must have been in Greece; but when informed that Veii was the rival of Rome, that its ruins were within twenty miles of the Eternal City, he will possibly get angry and think you are chaffing him. He, no doubt, may have heard of Etruria, but probably in his mind it was jumbled up with Minton's pottery; if associated with Wedgewood, it will be a point in his favour. He may probably have heard of Etruscan cities and Etruscan vases, but all his information in this line is terribly hazy; and so he dawdles through his sojourn at Rome, goes on to Naples, perhaps to Palermo and Malta, returning to England by the P. and O. steamer, imagining that he has seen, or done, Italy, as he terms it.

It so happened that I had made arrangements 9 for another tour, and was thus unable to join my three friends in their intended expedition; but the following Winter M— and I went to the continent together, we spent four months in Italy, that Italy he had so thoroughly "done" twice before! and to his amazement, he had to confess that in his previous journeys he had simply wasted his time and his money.

We visited numberless out of the way places, having made Florence our head-quarters for Central Italy, and there under the guidance of Micali's Antichi Popoli Italiani, we dived into the history of Italy, beginning with the misty periods synchronous with the siege of Troy, illustrating them as we went along by visits to the ancient cities and cemeteries of Etruria, and thence through those glorious Middle Ages and their unparalleled works of art, which can nowhere be so well studied as in Italy! It was a surpassing pleasure to him, no doubt, to see for the first time all those wondrous things; but it was almost as great a delight to me to witness his raptures, his astonishment, as city after city came under our examination—Fiesole, Volterra, Chiusi, Cortona. This last, 10 especially, struck him with astonishment, a city co-eval with Ilium, and still in our days a city preserving its ancient name, while of Ilium, periêre ips? ruin?, and its very existence questioned, till the researches of the indefatigable Schliemann brought monuments to light within the last few months which have clearly identified the spot, and proved to a demonstration that Ilium really had existed, and that the siege of Troy was not simply a myth, a poet's dream!

I well remember helping him to measure the immense blocks of the ancient walls of Cortona, fitted with such wonderful exactness that the blade of a penknife can even at present be scarcely pushed in between them, and which still remain in situ without mortar or other cement, though probably thirty centuries have rolled on since those walls were erected by the ancestors of their present inhabitants. How I remember the interest he took in scanning from the hill which looks over the rippling water of the Trasymene Lake, pointing out the probable spot where those false-hearted Romans had rested whilst the battle was raging below, only to be overtaken, however, on the 11 morrow by Hannibal and his victorious legions, who made them pay so dearly for their treachery.

"This is the way I like to study history, and this is the way never to forget it," said he. "I hated the very names of Tacitus and Livy, but how delightful I think them now!" and so we did do Italy from Agrigentum to the Alps, and from the Adriatic to the Mediterranean, and many queer out-of-the-way places we visited, and such scores of sketches we carried away; and a more delightful trip never was made before or since.

Captain Hutchinson, in his introduction to "Try Lapland," writes, "The difficulty of finding new ground for travel is increasing every year for those who, with but a limited time at their disposal, are yet tired of the beaten paths of Ramsgate or Scarborough, Switzerland or the Rhine, and pant after lands fresh and fair, of which they have never seen the photograph—where the gorgeous hotel with its elongated bills, and the pertinacious touter with his cringing greasy manners, are alike unknown." 12

Now to a great extent that pleasant writer is correct; but the man who rushing away from the turmoil and bustle of London life, whether he be lawyer, merchant, or physician, seeking for fresh air and scenery, but as far away as possible from those hackneyed tracks infested by the typical tourist, both English and Transatlantic, and by poor Marryat's "shilling-seeking, napkin-holding, up-and-downstairs son of a sea-cook" of an hotel waiter, need not go to the Arctic Circle to find all the above-named advantages, unless, indeed, he is bent on also seeing the sun at midnight, and his own body a prey to the mosquitoes.

Within five days of Temple Bar, or as we soon shall have to say, where Temple Bar once stood, there are as splendid countries to explore, as fine ruins to contemplate, as glorious scenery and as gorgeous costumes to admire, as the heart of man can wish for; and if the reader will trust himself with me for a little while, excusing the many shortcomings he will meet with in these pages, I will lead him over a trip I took last Summer which I think will fully repay him, though he will often 13 have to make great allowances and deal leniently with the Author, who for the first time in his life rushes into print, just for the same reason that the stars shine above us, because he has nothing else to do! But if through publishing this little book he shall have opened up a new field of travel to those who yearly require to recruit their strength of body and of mind by a ramble in foreign lands, if he shall have added one more possible source of enjoyment to those within the reach of the many, he will consider himself amply repaid for whatever trouble he may have been put to in its compilation.