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 such a variety of figures at Versailles. But I begin to talk like Dr. Lister. To pass therefore 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 wainscoted 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 first. He is represented with all the terror and majesty that you can imagine, in every part of the picture, and sees his young face as perfectly drawn in the roof as his present one in the side. 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. I believe by this time you are afraid I shall carry you from room to room and lead you through the whole palace; truly, if I had not tired you already, I could not forbear showing you a staircase that they say is the noblest in its kind: but after so tedious a letter I shall conclude with a petition to you, that you would deliver the enclosed to Mr. Montagu, for I am afraid

of interrupting him with my impertinence when he is engaged in more serious affairs.

Tu faciles aditus et mollia tempora nôvis,

To MR. STANYAN.

I am, &c.,

J. ADDISON.

BLOIS, February, 1700.

DEAR SIR,

I THANK you for the news and poetry you were pleased to send me, though I must confess I did not like either of them. The votes had too much fire in them, and the verses none at all: however, I hope the first will prove as harmless to the ministers of state as the others are to the knights of the toast. It is the first speech of Sir John Falstaff's that did not please me, but truly I think the merry knight is grown very dull since his being in the other world. I really think myself very much obliged to you for your directions, and if you would be a little particular in the names of the treaties that you mention, I should have reason to look upon your correspondence as the luckiest adventure I am like to meet with in all my travels. The place where I am at present, by reason of its situation on the Loire and its reputation for the language, is very much infested with fogs and German counts. These last are a kind of gentlemen that are just come wild out of their country, and more noisy and senseless than any I have yet had the honour to be acquainted with. They are at the cabaret from morning to night, and I suppose come into France on no other account but to drink. To

make some amends for all this, there is not a word of English spoken in the whole town, so that I shall be in danger of losing my mother-tongue, unless you give me leave to practise it on you sometimes in a letter. I might here be very troublesome to you with my acknowledgments, but I hope there is no need of any formal professions to assure you that I shall always be, dear sir, &c.,

To Abraham Stanyan, Esq.

TO MR. WORTLEY MONTAGU.

DEAR SIR,

J. ADDISON.

CHATEAU-DUN, July 23, 1700.

I AM now at Chateau-dun, where I shall expect your company or a letter from you with some impatience. Here is one of the prettiest views in the world, if that can tempt you, and a ruin of about four-score houses, which I know you would think a pleasanter prospect than the other, if it was not so modern. The inhabitants tell you the fire that has been the occasion of it was put out by a miracle; and that in its full rage it immediately ceased at the sight of Him that in His lifetime rebuked the winds and the waves with a look. He was brought hither in the disguise of a wafer, and was assisted, I don't question, with several tuns of water. It would have been a very fair occasion to have signalized your holy tear at Vendome, if the very sight of a single drop could have quenched such a terrible fire. This is all the news I can write you from this place, where I have been hitherto taken up with the company of strangers that lodge in the same inn. I shall hope to

see you within about a week hence, though I desire you not to hasten against your own inclinations; for, as much as I esteem your company, I cannot desire it unless it be for your own convenience.

you

DUBLIN CASTLE, August, 1710.

I AM very much obliged to you for sending me my letters from Mr. Vandewaters, but more for the copy of your Pastoral. I have read it over with abundance of pleasure, and like extremely well the alterations have made in it. You have an admirable hand at a sheep-crook, though I must confess the conclusion of your poem would have pleased me better had it not been for that very reason that it was the conclusion of it. I hope you will follow the example of your Spencer and Virgil in making your Pastorals the prelude of something greater. He that can bewail Stella's death in so good a copy of verses, would be able to anatomize her after it in a better. I intend for England within a day or two, and should be very glad if I could be any way serviceable to you there.

Your faithful humble servant,

J. ADDISON.

TO A LADY (His Patroness).

MADAM,

IT would be ridiculous in me, after the late intimation you were pleased to favour me with, to affect any longer an ignorance of your sentiments, opposite soever as an approbation of them must be to the dictates of reason and justice. This expression, Madam, I am highly sensible, may appear a little too coarse in the mouth of a polite man; but I hope is no disgrace to the behaviour of a sincere one. When we are to talk upon matters of importance, delicacy must give way to truth, and ceremony be sacrificed to candour: an honest freedom is the privilege of ingenuity; and the mind, which is above the practice of deceit, can never stoop to a willingness to flatter. Give me leave, Madam, to remark that the connection subsisting between your husband and myself, is of a nature too strong for me to think of injuring him in a point where the happiness of his life is so materially concerned. You cannot be insensible of his goodness, or my obligations; and suffer me to observe, Madam, that were I capable of such an action, at the time that my behaviour might be rewarded by your passion, I must be despised by your reason; and though I might be esteemed as a lover, I must be hated as a man.

Highly sensible, Madam, of the power of your beauty, I am determined to avoid an interview where my reputation may be for ever lost. You have passions, you say, Madam; but give me leave to answer, that you have understanding also: you have a heart susceptible of the tenderest impressions, but a soul, if you would choose to wake it, above an