ver observed it myself
in Central Asia." 'Tis Parson Adams and the Christian religion. Nine
English people out of ten, when they talk of Abroad, mean what they call
the Continent; and when they talk of the Continent, they mean France,
Germany, Switzerland, Italy; in short, the places most visited by
Englishmen when they consent now and again to go Abroad for a holiday.
"I don't like Abroad," a lady once said to me on her return from Calais.
Foreigners, in like manner, means Frenchmen, Germans, Swiss, Italians.
In the country called Abroad, the most important parts are the parts
nearest England; of the people called Foreigners, the most important are
those who dress like Englishmen. The dim black lands that lie below the
horizon are hardly worth noticing.

Would it surprise you to learn that most people live in Asia? Would it
surprise you to learn that most people are poor benighted heathen, and
that, of the remainder, most people are Mahommedans, and that of the
Christians, who come next, most people are Roman Catholics, and that, of
the other Christian sects, most people belong to the Greek Church, and
that, last of all, we get Protestants, more particularly Anglicans,
Wesleyans, Baptists? Have you ever really realised the startling fact
that England is an island off the coast of Europe? that Europe is a
peninsula at the end of Asia? that France, Germany, Italy, are the
fringe of Russia? Have you ever really realised that the
English-speaking race lives mostly in America? that the country is
vastly more populous than London? that our class is the froth and the
scum of society? Think these things out, and try to measure them on the
globe. And when you speak of Abroad, do please specify what part of it.

Abroad is not all alike. There are differences between Poland, Peru, and
Palestine. What is true of France is not true of Fiji. Distinguish
carefully between Timbuctoo, Tobolsk, and Toledo.

It is not our insularity that makes us so insular. 'Tis a gift of the
gods, peculiar to Englishmen. The other inhabitants of these Isles of
Britain are comparatively cosmopolitan. The Scotchman goes everywhere;
the world is his oyster. Ireland is an island still more remote than
Great Britain; but the Irishman has never been so insular as the
English. I put that down in part to his Catholicism: his priests have
been wheels in a world-wide system; his relations have been with Douai,
St. Omer, and Rome; his bishops have gone pilgrima