uld come home Italianate than Frenchified: I
speake of both in the better sense: for the French is stirring, bold,
respectless, inconstant, suddaine: the Italian stayed, demure,
respective, grave, advised."[215] But _Instructions for Forreine
Travell_ in 1642 urges one to imitate the French. "For the Gentry of
France have a kind of loose, becoming boldness, and forward vivacity in
their manners."[216]

The first writer of advice to travellers who assumes that French
accomplishments are to be a large part of the traveller's education, is
Sir Robert Dallington, whom we have already quoted. His _View of
France_[217] to which the _Method for Travel_ is prefixed, deserves a
reprint, for both that and his _Survey of Tuscany_,[218] though built on
the regular model of the Elizabethan traveller's "Relation," being a
conscientious account of the chief geographical, economic,
architectural, and social features of the country traversed, are more
artistic than the usual formal reports. Dallington wrote these Views in
1598, a little before the generation which modelled itself on the French
gallants, and his remarks on Frenchmen may well have served as a warning
to courtiers not to imitate the foibles, along with the admirable
qualities, of their compeers across the Channel. For instance, he is
outraged by the effusiveness of the "violent, busy-headed and impatient
Frenchman," who "showeth his lightness and inconstancie ... in nothing
more than in his familiaritie, with whom a stranger cannot so soone be
off his horse, but he will be acquainted: nor so soone in his Chamber,
but the other like an Ape will bee on his shoulder: and as suddenly and
without cause ye shall love him also. A childish humour, to be wonne
with as little as an Apple and lost with lesse than a Nut."[219] The
King of France himself is censured for his geniality. Dallington deems
Henry of Navarre "more affable and familiar than fits the Majesty of a
great King." He might have found in current gossip worse lapses than the
two he quotes to show Henry's lack of formality, but it is part of
Dallington's worth that he writes of things at first-hand, and gives us
only what he himself saw; how at Orleans, when the Italian commedians
were to play before him, the king himself, "came whiffling with a small
wand to scowre the coast, and make place for the rascall Players,... a
thing, me thought, most derogatory to the Majesty of a King of France."

"And lately at Paris (as