In large cities we always preferred to take the second or third-rate hotels, which are generally visited by merchants and persons who travel on business; for, with the same comforts as the first rank, they are nearly twice as cheap.  A traveler, with a guide-book and a good pair of eyes, can also dispense with the services of a courier, whose duty it is to conduct strangers about the city, from one lion to another.  We chose rather to find out and view the “sights” at our leisure.  In small villages, where we were often obliged to stop, we chose the best hotels, which, particularly in Northern Germany and in Italy, are none too good.  But if it was a post, that is, a town where the post-chaise stops to change horses, we usually avoided the post-hotel, where one must pay high for having curtains before his windows and a more elegant cover on his bed.  In the less splendid country inns, we always found neat, comfortable lodging, and a pleasant, friendly reception from the people.  They saluted us on entering, with “Be you welcome,” and on leaving, wished us a pleasant journey and good fortune.  The host, when he brought us supper or breakfast, lifted his cap, and wished us a good appetite—­and when he lighted us to our chambers, left us with “May you sleep well!” We generally found honest, friendly people; they delighted in telling us about the country around; what ruins there were in the neighborhood—­and what strange legends were connected with them.  The only part of Europe where it is unpleasant to travel in this manner, is Bohemia.  We could rarely find a comfortable inn; the people all spoke an unknown language, and were not particularly celebrated for their honesty.  Beside this, travelers rarely go on foot in those regions; we were frequently taken for traveling handworker, and subjected to imposition.

With regard to passports, although they were vexatious and often expensive, we found little difficulty when we had acquainted ourselves with the regulations concerning them.  In France and Germany they are comparatively little trouble; in Italy they are the traveler’s greatest annoyance.  Americans are treated with less strictness, in this respect, than citizens of other nations, and, owing to the absence of rank among us, we also enjoy greater advantages of acquaintance and intercourse.

The expenses of traveling in England, although much greater than in our own country, may, as we learned by experience, be brought, through economy, within the same compass.  Indeed, it is my belief, from observation, that, with few exceptions, throughout Europe, where a traveler enjoys the same comfort and abundance as in America, he must pay the same prices.  The principal difference is, that he only pays for what he gets, so that, if he be content with the necessities of life, without its luxuries, the expense is in proportion.  I have given, at times, through the foregoing chapters, the cost of travel and residence in Europe, yet a connected estimate will better show the minimum expense of a two years’ pilgrimage: