PART. I : PHILOSOPHICAL REQUISITES. SECTION II.

Being provided with a conviction of what it is that he wants to know,rnthe traveller must be furthermore furnished with the means of gainingrnthe knowledge he wants. When he was a child, he was probably taught thatrneyes, ears, and understanding are all-sufficient to gain for him as muchrnknowledge as he will have time to acquire; but his self-education hasrnbeen a poor one, if he has not become convinced that something more isrnneedful--the enlightenment and discipline of the understanding, as wellrnas its immediate use. It is not enough for a traveller to have an activernunderstanding, equal to an accurate perception of individual facts inrnthemselves; he must also be in possession of principles which may servernas a rallying point for his observations, and without which he cannotrndetermine their bearings, or be secure of putting a right interpretationrnupon them. A traveller may do better without eyes, or without ears, thanrnwithout such principles, as there is evidence to prove. Holman, thernblind traveller, gains a wonderful amount of information, though he isrnshut out from the evidence yielded by the human countenance, by way-siderngroups, by the aspect of cities, and the varying phenomena of countryrnregions. In his motto, he indicates something of his method.rnrn "Sightless to see, and judge thro' judgment's eyes, To make four senses do the work of five, To arm the mind for hopeful enterprise, Are lights to him who doth in darkness live."rnrnIn order to "judge through judgment's eyes," those eyes must be madernstrong and clear; and a traveller may gain more without the bodily organrnthan with an untrained understanding. The case of the Deaf Traveller[A]rnleads us to say the same about the other great avenue of knowledge. Hisrnwritings prove, to all who are acquainted with them, that, though to arngreat degree deprived of that inestimable commentary upon perceivedrnfacts--human discourse--the Deaf Traveller is able to furnish us withrnmore knowledge of foreign people than Fine-Ear himself could have donernwithout the accompaniments of analytical power and concentrativernthought. All senses, and intellectual powers, and good habits, may bernconsidered essential to a perfect observation of morals and manners; butrnalmost any one might be better spared than a provision of principlesrnwhich may serve as a rallying point and a test of facts. The blind andrnthe deaf travellers must suffer under a deprivation or deficiency ofrncertain classes of facts. The condition of the unphilosophical travellerrnis much worse. It is a chance whether he puts a right interpretation onrnany of the facts he perceives.rnrnMany may object that I am making much too serious a matter of therndepartment of the business of travelling under present notice. They dornnot pretend to be moral philosophers;--they do not desire to bernoracles;--they attempt nothing more than to give a simple report of whatrnhas come under their notice. But what work on earth is more serious thanrnthis of giving an account of the most grave and important things whichrnare transacted on this globe? Every true report is a great good; everyrnuntrue report is a great mischief. Therefore, let there be none givenrnbut by persons in some good degree qualified. Such travellers as willrnnot take pains to provide themselves with the requisite thought andrnstudy should abstain from reporting at all.rnrnIt is a mistake, however, to suppose that the study shown to bernrequisite is vast and deep. Some knowledge of the principles of Moralsrnand the rule of Manners is required, as in the case of other sciences tornbe brought into use on a similar occasion; but the principles are fewrnand simple, and the rule easy of application.rnrnThe universal summary notions of Morals may serve a common traveller inrnhis judgments as to whether he would like to live in any foreignrncountry, and as to whether the people there are as agreeable to him asrnhis own nation. For such an one it may be sufficient to bear about therngeneral notions that lying, thieving, idleness, and licentiousness arernbad; and that truth, honesty, industry, and sobriety are good; and forrncommon purposes, such an one may be trusted to pronounce what isrnindustry and what idleness; what is licentiousness and what sobriety.rnBut vague notions, home prepossessions, even on these great points ofrnmorals, are not sufficient, in the eyes of an enlightened traveller, tornwarrant decisions on the moral state of nations who are reared under arnwide diversity of circumstances. The true liberality which alone isrnworthy to contemplate all the nations of the earth, does not draw arnbroad line through the midst of human conduct, declaring all that fallsrnon the one side vice, and all on the other virtue; such a liberalityrnknows that actions and habits do not always carry their moral impressrnvisibly to all eyes, and that the character of very many must berndetermined by a cautious application of a few deep principles. Is thernShaker of New England a good judge of the morals and manners of the Arabrnof the Desert? What sort of a verdict would the shrewdest gipsy passrnupon the monk of La Trappe? What would the Scotch peasant think of thernmagical practices of Egypt? or the Russian soldier of a meeting ofrnelectors in the United States? The ideas of right and wrong in the mindsrnof these people are not of the enlarged kind which would enable them tornjudge persons in situations the most opposite to their own. The truernphilosopher, the worthy observer, first contemplates in imagination thernarea of humanity, and then ascertains what principles of morals arernapplicable to them all, and judges by these.rnrnThe enlightened traveller, if he explore only one country, carries inrnhis mind the image of all; for, only in its relation to the whole of thernrace can any one people be judged. Almost without exaggeration, he mayrnbe said to see what the rhapsodist in Volney saw.rnrn"There, from above the atmosphere, looking down upon the earth I hadrnquitted, I beheld a scene entirely new. Under my feet, floating in emptyrnspace, a globe similar to that of the moon, but less luminous, presentedrnto me one of its faces.... 'What!' exclaimed I, 'is that the earth whichrnis inhabited by human beings?'"[B]rnrnThe differences are, that, instead of "one of its faces," the moralistrnwould see the whole of the earth in one contemplation; and that, insteadrnof a nebulous expanse here, and a brown or grey speck there,--continents,rnseas, or volcanoes,--he would look into the homes and social assembliesrnof all lands. In the extreme North, there is the snow-hut of thernEsquimaux, shining with the fire within, like an alabaster lamp leftrnburning in a wide waste; within, the beardless father is mending hisrnweapons made of fishbones, while the dwarfed mother swathes her infant inrnskins, and feeds it with oil and fat. In the extreme East, there is thernChinese family in their garden, treading its paved walks, or seated underrnthe shade of its artificial rocks; the master displaying the claws of hisrnleft hand as he smokes his pipe, and his wife tottering on her deformedrnfeet as she follows her child,--exulting over it if it be a boy; gravernand full of sighs if heaven have sent her none but girls. In the extremernSouth, there is the Colonist of the Cape, lazily basking before his door,rnwhile he sends his labourer abroad with his bullock-waggon, devolves thernbusiness of the farm upon the women, and scares from his door any poorrnHottentot who may have wandered hither over the plain. In the extremernWest, there is the gathering together on the shores of the Pacific of thernhunters laden with furs. The men are trading, or cleaning their arms, orrnsleeping; the squaws are cooking, or dyeing with vegetable juices thernquills of the porcupine or the hair of the moose-deer. In the intervalsrnbetween these extremities, there is a world of morals and manners, asrndiverse as the surface of the lands on which they are exhibited. Here isrnthe Russian nobleman on his estate, the lord of the fate of his serfs,rnbut hard pressed by the enmity of rival nobles, and silenced by therndespotism of his prince; his wife leads a languid life among her spinningrnmaidens; and his young sons talk of the wars in which they shall serverntheir emperor in time to come. There is the Frankfort trader, dwellingrnamong equals, fixing his pride upon having wronged no man, or upon havingrna son distinguished at the university, or a daughter skilled in domesticrnaccomplishments; while his wife emulates her neighbours in supporting therncomfort and respectability of the household. Here is the French peasantrnreturning from the field in total ignorance of what has taken place inrnthe capital of late; and there is the English artizan discussing with hisrnbrother-workman the politics of the town, or carrying home to his wifernsome fresh hopes of the interference of parliament about labour andrnwages. Here is a conclave of Cardinals, consulting upon the interests ofrnthe Holy See; there a company of Brahmins setting an offering of ricernbefore their idol. In one direction, there is a handful of citizensrnbuilding a new town in the midst of a forest; in another, there is arntroop of horsemen hovering on the horizon, while a caravan is traversingrnthe Desert. Under the twinkling shadows of a German vineyard, nationalrnsongs are sung; from the steep places of the Swiss mountains the Alp-hornrnresounds; in the coffee-house at Cairo, listeners hang upon the voice ofrnthe romance reciter; the churches of Italy echo with solemn hymns; andrnthe soft tones of the child are heard, in the New England parlour, as thernyoung scholar reads the Bible to parent or aged grandfather.rnrnAll these, and more, will a traveller of the most enlightened orderrnrevolve before his mind's eye as he notes the groups which are presentedrnto his senses. Of such travellers there are but too few; and vague andrngeneral, or merely traditional, notions of right and wrong must servernthe purpose of the greater number. The chief evil of moral notions beingrnvague or traditional is, that they are irreconcileable with liberalityrnof judgment; and the great benefit of an ascertainment of the primaryrnprinciples of morals is, that such an investigation dissolves prejudice,rnand casts a full light upon many things which cease to be fearful andrnpainful when they are no longer obscure. We all know how different arnSunday in Paris appears to a sectarian, to whom the word of his priestrnis law; and to a philosopher, in whom religion is indigenous, whornunderstands the narrowness of sects, and sees how much smaller evenrnChristendom itself is than Humanity. We all know how offensive thernprayers of Mahomedans at the corners of streets, and the pomp ofrncatholic processions, are to those who know no other way than enteringrninto their closet, and shutting the door when they pray; but how feltrnthe deep thinker who wrote the Religio Medici? He was an orderly memberrnof a Protestant church, yet he uncovered his head at the sight of arncrucifix; he could not laugh at pilgrims walking with peas in theirrnshoes, or despise a begging friar; he could "not hear an Ave Maria bellrnwithout an elevation;" and it is probable that even the Teraphim of thernArabs would not have been wholly absurd, or the car of Juggernaut itselfrnaltogether odious in his eyes. Such is the contrast between the sectaryrnand the philosopher.