1936 On the Continent

we feel so inclined, mount another 1,000 feet until we reach the hotel and the ski-ing grounds above and, glancing over the top of the white clouds, contemplate the exotic silhouette of Istanbul some 80 miles away.
    Set in the wall at either side of the main entrance to the Green Mosque in Brussa are two short columns of dark green marble. Either one of these columns will spin on its axis at the slightest touch. The great Turkish architect inserted those columns when he built the mosque several centuries ago in order to be able to detect immediately any possible sinking of the structure.
    There is a museum in Brussa rich in old relics of pre-Ottoman days, but then in Brussa antique statues are as common as pebbles on a beach.
    Less than a day’s trip by sea will carry us from Istanbul to Chanakkale, better known to the Western world as the Dardanelles or the Hellespont. Here a narrow strip of water flowing between Europe and Asia connects the Sea of Marmora and the Aegean. On the little peninsula of Gelibolu (Gallipoli) was fought one of the most terrible campaigns in history. Every inch of ground, every stone and rock drips with the best blood of Turkey, England, Australia, New Zealand, and France. The surrounding seas are clogged with the remnants of many a proud vessel. Here, on the European shore, we see Anzac Cove where young men landed only to be mown down by the machine-gun fire they were not afraid to face.
Troy
    Then, preferably taking the legendary route followed by Byron and Haliburton alike in their swim across the straits, we may move over into Asia and visit that spot of ground which, to the ancients, was known as Troy. Troy! The magical name that has inspired countless poets from the days of Homer down through Marlowe and Poe to modern times! When the dusk of twilight has settled over the earth and the stars have appeared faint and very far away, we may stand there on the brown soil and dream of that immortal woman whose name the years have surrounded with a halo of glowing passion.
    And then we can walk along the plains of Troy to the spot, half-way between Simoeis and Scamander, where, we are told by the ancient poets, the gods of antiquity descended from Olympus and engaged in sporting contests with human beings.
    It is not at all surprising that they should have done so. Turkey was irresistible even to the gods.
    Is it unreasonable to assume that she will prove irresistible to you?

THE BRITISH ISLES
by
ANDRÉ MAUROIS : L. RASKAY
H. PEARL ADAM : ERIC DUNSTAN
GEOFFREY PINNOCK : ROLF BENNET
DOROTHY HARTLEY
LAWRENCE WOLFE
    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    INTRODUCTION
by
ANDRÉ MAUROIS
Advice to Foreigners visiting England
    You are going to live in a country which you will like, because of its greatness, and which will like you, because of your simplicity. Beware of trying to conquer it by shock tactics. Amongst the English everything is done slowly and discreetly, and in the fullness of time you will be given things that you never asked for. Nevertheless, to avoid causing shocks, you must observe certain formal rules; England will give you plenty of liberty in the greater things, so long as you observe the usages in the lesser. Being like yourself a foreigner, I feel ill-equipped to describe their customs for you; but I shall tell you what I have noticed.
    You will be arriving in London for the Season. For that you must go into strict training. I know men who have explored Central Asia, gone through wars, and fought elections, but could not stand up to a London Season. For two months you won’t sit down to table alone, you’ll be talking from morning till night, you’ll write thirty letters a day, you’ll be telephoning and dancing and philosophising—all in an unaccustomed and freakish climate, with sudden east winds to upset your Continental liver, and long days of warm mist, with thunderstorms circling over London in murky clouds pierced by a harsh sun. That price you will pay, for playing your part in one of the most brilliant spectacles in the world.
    Will you play it well? Yes—if you play conscientiously. England will expect of you, not brilliance, but precision. Punctuality there is more than a habit; it is a vice. If you are asked to dine at half-past eight, that means in London half-past eight, and not eight twenty-nine or eightthirty-one: still less, as in Paris, quarter-past nine. Within a few seconds you will see the cars drive up and the drawing-room filled, as in those plays of Labiche or