herself from the eye of the beholder. It is very probable he had in his thoughts the statue which we see in the Venus de Medicis, where she is represented in such a shy retiring posture, and covers her bosom with one of her hands. In short, modesty gives the maid greater beauty than even the bloom of youth, it bestows on the wife the dignity of a matron, and reinstates the widow in her virginity. No. 101. TUESDAY, JULY 7, 1713.* Tros Tyriusque mihi nullo discrimine agetur. VIRG. Æn. i. 578. · Trojan and Tyrian differ but in name, THIS being the great day of thanksgiving for the peace', I shall present my reader with a couple of letters that are the fruits of it. They are written by a gentleman who has taken this opportunity to see France, and has given his friends in England a general account of what he has there met with, in several epistles. Those which follow were put into my hands with liberty to make them public, and I question not but my reader will think himself obliged to me for so doing. SIR, SINCE I had the happiness to see you last, I have encountered as many misfortunes as a knight errant. I had a fall into the water at Calais, and since that several bruises upon the land, lame post * ADDISON'S. e Distinguished by a hand, as one of Addison's papers in the Guardian; and reprinted in Addison's Works, 4to. vol. iv. p. 146. edit. 1721. See Guardian, No. 109. See No. 103. paragr. 2. Nos. 105. and 102. Adv. horses by day, and hard beds at night, with many other dismal adventures, " Quorum animus meminisse horret, luctuque refugit." VIRG. Æn. ii. 12. "At which my memory with grief recoils." My arrival at Paris was at first no less uncomfortable, where I could not see a face nor hear a word that I ever met with before; so that my most agreeable companions have been statues and pictures, which are many of them very extraordinary; but what particularly recommends them to me is, that they do not speak French, and have a very good quality, rarely to be met with in this country, of not being too talkative. I am settled for some time at Paris. Since my being here I have made the tour of all the king's palaces, which has been, I think, the pleasantest part of my life. I could not believe it was in the power of art to furnish out such a multitude of noble scenes as I there met with, or that so many delightful prospects could lie within the compass of a man's imagination. There is every thing done that can be expected from a prince who removes mountains, turns the course of rivers, raises woods in a day's time, and plants a village or town on such a particular spot of ground only for the bettering of a view. One would wonder to see how many tricks he has made the water play for his diversion. It turns itself into pyramids, triumphal arches, glass bottles, imitates a firework, rises in a mist, or tells a story out of Æsop. I do not believe, as good a poet as you are, that you can make finer landscapes than those about the king's houses, or with all your descriptions raise a more magnificent palace than Versailles. I am however so singular as to prefer Fontainbleau to all the rest. It is situated among rocks and woods, that give you a fine variety of savage prospects. The king has humoured the genius of the place, and only made use of so much art as is necessary to help and regulate nature, without reforming her too much. The cascades seems to break through the clefts and cracks of rocks that are covered over with moss, and look as if they were piled upon one another by accident. There is an artificial wildness in the meadows, walks and canals; and the garden, instead of a wall, is fenced on the lower end by a natural mound of rockwork that strikes the eye very agreeably. For my part, I think there is something more charming in these rude heaps of stone than in so many statues, and would as soon see a river winding through woods and meadows, as when it is tossed up in so many whimsical figures at Versailles. To pass from works of nature to those of art. In my opinion, the pleasantest part of Versailles is the gallery. Every one sees on each side of it something that will be sure to please him. For one of them commands a view of the finest garden in the world, and the other is wainscotted with looking-glass. The history of the present king till the year 16... is painted on the roof by Le Brun, so that his majesty has actions enough by him to furnish another gallery much longer than the present. The painter has represented his most Christian majesty under the figure of Jupiter, throwing thunderbolts all about the ceiling, and striking terror into the Danube and Rhine, that lie astonished and blasted with lightning a little above the cornice. • But what makes all these shows the more agreeable, is the great kindness and affability that is shown g There are vast windows into the garden, and the same in looking-glass opposite to them, on the blank side, which produce a fine effect, for you see the garden on both sides of you as you walk along the gallery. A. to strangers. If the French do not excel the English in all the arts of humanity, they do at least in the outward expressions of it. And upon this, as well as other accounts, though I believe the English are a much wiser nation, the French are undoubtedly much more happy. Their old men in particular are, I believe, the most agreeable in the world. An antediluvian could not have more life and briskness in him at three score and ten: for that fire and levity which makes the young ones scarce conversible, when a listle wasted and tempered by years, makes a very pleasant gay old age. Besides, this national fault of being so very talkative looks natural and graceful in one that has grey hairs to countenance it. The mentioning this fault in the French must put me in mind to finish my letter, lest you think me already too much infected by their conversation; but I must desire you to consider, that travelling does in this respect lay a little claim to the privilege of old age. I am, Sir,' &c. h SIR, 'I CANNOT pretend to trouble you with any news from this place, where the only advantage I have, besides getting the language, is to see the manners and tempers of the people, which I believe may be better learnt here than in courts and h This and the following letter, with two more in Guardian, No. 104. seem to have been the communications of Mr. G. Berkeley, of Trinity college, Dublin, afterwards D.D. dean of Derry, and bishop of Cloyne. He certainly went abroad as chaplain and secretary to the earl of Peterborough, in 1713, and perhaps two or three months sooner than the time mentioned in the memoirs of the bishop published in 1784, 8vo. on the authority, it is said, of the bishop's brother, lord Robert Berkeley, D. D. rector of Middleton, in the diocese of Cloyne. See memoirs of G. Berkeley, D.D. &c. p. 7. Addison evidently was only the publisher of this paper, and of No. 104. The letters of which they consist were probably written by Mr. Berkeley to Steele. See No. 104. greater cities, where artifice and disguise are more in fashion. • I have already seen, as I informed you in my last, all the king's palaces, and have now seen a great part of the country. I never thought there had been in the world such an excessive magnificence or poverty as I have met with in both together. One can scarce conceive the pomp that appears in every thing about the king; but at the same time it makes half his subjects go barefoot. The people are however the happiest in the world, and enjoy from the benefit of their climate, and natural constitution, such a perpetual gladness of heart, and easiness of temper, as even liberty and plenty cannot bestow on those of other nations. It is not in the power of want or slavery, to make them miserable. There is nothing to be met with in the country, but mirth and poverty. Every one sings, laughs, and starves. Their conversation is generally agreeable; for if they have any wit or sense, they are sure to show it. They never mend upon a second meeting, but use all the freedom and familiarity at first sight, that a long intimacy or abundance of wine can scarce draw from an Englishman. Their women are perfect mistresses in this art of showing themselves to the best advantage. They are always gay and sprightly, and set off the worst faces in Europe with the best airs. Every one knows how to give herself as charming a look and posture as sir Godfrey Kneller could draw her in. I cannot end my letter without observing, that from what I have already seen of the world, I cannot but set a particular mark of distinction upon those who abound most in the virtues of their nation, and least with its imperfections. When therefore I see the good sense of an Englishman in its highest perfection, without |