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]