ace where I first yielded to those allurements which
seduced me to deviate from temperance and innocence! The honey which I
tasted in this forest, and not the hand of the king of Norway, conquers
Hacho[1]."

[1] By Mr. Thomas Warton.

No. 97. SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1760.

It may, I think, be justly observed, that few books disappoint their
readers more than the narrations of travellers. One part of mankind is
naturally curious to learn the sentiments, manners, and condition of the
rest; and every mind that has leisure or power to extend its views, must
be desirous of knowing in what proportion Providence has distributed the
blessings of nature, or the advantages of art, among the several nations
of the earth.

This general desire easily procures readers to every book from which it
can expect gratification. The adventurer upon unknown coasts, and the
describer of distant regions, is always welcomed as a man who has
laboured for the pleasure of others, and who is able to enlarge our
knowledge and rectify our opinions; but when the volume is opened,
nothing is found but such general accounts as leave no distinct idea
behind them, or such minute enumerations as few can read with either
profit or delight.

Every writer of travels should consider, that, like all other authors,
he undertakes either to instruct or please, or to mingle pleasure with
instruction. He that instructs must offer to the mind something to be
imitated, or something to be avoided; he that pleases must offer new
images to his reader, and enable him to form a tacit comparison of his
own state with that of others.

The greater part of travellers tell nothing, because their method of
travelling supplies them with nothing to be told. He that enters a town
at night, and surveys it in the morning, and then hastens away to
another place, and guesses at the manners of the inhabitants by the
entertainment which his inn afforded him, may please himself for a time
with a hasty change of scenes, and a confused remembrance of palaces and
churches; he may gratify his eye with a variety of landscapes, and
regale his palate with a succession of vintages; but let him be
contented to please himself without endeavouring to disturb others.

Why should he record excursions by which nothing could be learned, or
wish to make a show of knowledge, which, without some power of intuition
unknown to other mortals, he never could attain?

Of those who crowd the world