Can the traveller abroad penetrate the ethos of a country? If there is such a thing, the traveller, properly so-called, may do so. But is the modern tourist properly to be called a traveller? Both elements in our preliminary question are so doubtful that it is difficult to see whether what we want to say is worth the attempt. But at least, when abroad, we are conscious of difference, whether it is superficial or deep we are less able to gauge. The danger is of supposing it, on the one hand, to be all a matter of climate and food-supply, and, on the other, of carrying it so deep as to forget our common humanity. As to the tourist, we can admit him as a traveller on this simple point of difference: if he seeks difference as a titillation, for the sake of a change, to forget for a fortnight the monotony of his office and the anxieties of his personal life, he is, what he is perfectly entitled to be, a man on his holiday; but if he is prepared to study his subject beforehand, to bring philosophic principles to bear on the differences, he observes in the new environment, to reflect on them afterwards, to beware of false generalisations and biassed conclusions, he is a serious traveller, if only for a fortnight, even though merely a tourist.