the vanity of an Englishman which puts me upon writing it, as that I have of taking an occasion to subscribe myself, 'SIR, Blois, May 20, N. S. " SIR, I AM extremely obliged to you for your last kind letter, which was the only English that had been spoken to me for some months together, for I am at present forced to think the absence of my countrymen my good fortune; • Votum in amante novum! vellem quod amatur abesset.' OVID. Met. iii. 468. 'Strange wish, to harbour in a lover's breast! I wish that absent, which I love the best,' This is an advantage that I could not have hoped for, had I stayed near the French court, though I must confess I would not but have seen it, because I believe it shewed me some of the finest places, and of the greatest persons in the world. One cannot hear a name mentioned in it that does not bring to mind a piece of a gazette, nor see a man that has not signalized himself in a battle. One would fancy one's self to be in the inchanted palaces of a romance; one meets with so many heroes; and finds something so like scenes of magic in the gardens, statues, and water-works. I am ashamed that I am not able to make a quicker progress through the French tongue, because I believe it is impossible for a learner of a language to find in any nation such advantages as in this, where every body is so very courteous, and so very talkative. They always take care to make a noise as long as they are in company, and are as loud any hour in the morning, as our own countrymen at midnight. By what I have seen, there is more mirth in the French conversation, and more wit in the English. You abound more in jests, but they in laughter. Their language is indeed extremely proper to tattle in, it is made up of so much repetition and compliment. One may know a foreigner by his answering only No or Yes to a question, which a Frenchman generally makes a sentence of. They have a set of ceremonious phrases that run through all ranks and degrees among them. Nothing is more common than to hear a shopkeeper desiring his neighbour to have the goodness to tell him what it is o'clock, or a couple of coblers that are extremely glad of the honour of seeing one another. The face of the whole country where I now am, is at this season pleasant beyond imagination. I cannot but fancy the birds of this place, as well as the men, a great deal merrier than those of our own nation. I am sure the French year has got the start of ours more in the works of nature, than in the new stile. I have past one March in my life without being ruffled with the winds, and one April without being washed with rains. 'I am, SIR, ADDISON, N° 105. SATURDAY, JULY 11, 1713. Quod neque in Armeniis tigres fecere latebris: At teneræ faciunt, sed non impune, puellæ ; OVID. Amor. 2. Eleg. xiv. 35. The tigresses, that haunt th' Armenian wood, Will spare their proper young, tho' pinch'd for food! Their whelps: but women are more fierce than they, Nor Nature's call, tho' loud she cries, will hear. But righteous vengeance oft their crimes pursues, And they are lost themselves who would their children lose. THERE ANON. HERE was no part of the show on the thanksgivingday' that so much pleased and affected me as the little boys and girls who were ranged with so much order and decency in that part of the Strand which reaches from the May-pole to Exeter-change. Such a numerous and innocent multitude, clothed in the charity of their benefactors, was a spectacle pleasing both to God and man, and a more beautiful expression of joy and thanksgiving than could have been exhibited by all the pomps of a Roman triumph. Never did a more full and unspotted chorus of human creatures join together in a hymn of devotion. The care and tenderness which appeared in the looks of their several instructors, who were disposed among See N° 101, and 103. this little helpless people, could not forbear touching every heart that had any sentiments of humanity. I am very sorry that her majesty did not see this assembly of objects, so proper to excite that charity and compassion which she bears to all who stand in need of it, though at the same time I question not but her royal bounty will extend itself to them. A charity bestowed on the education of so many of her young subjects, has more merit in it than a thousand pensions to those of a higher fortune who are in greater stations in life. I have always looked on this institution of charityschools, which of late years has so universally prevailed through the whole nation, as the glory of the age we live in, and the most proper means that can be made use of to recover it out of its present degeneracy and depravation of manners. It seems to promise us an honest and virtuous posterity. There will be few in the next generation, who will not at least be able to write and read, and have not had an early tincture of religion. It is therefore to be hoped that the several persons of wealth and quality, who made their procession through the members of these new-erected seminaries, will not regard them only as an empty spectacle, or the materials of a fine show, but contribute to their maintenance and increase. For my part, I can scarce forbear looking on the astonishing victories our arms have been crowned with, to be in some measure the blessings returned upon that national charity which has been so conspicuous of late; and that the great successes of the last war, for which we lately offered up our thanks, were in some measure occasioned by the several objects which then stood before us. Since I am upon this subject, I shall mention a piece of charity which has not been yet exerted among us, and which deserves our attention the more, because it is practised by most of the nations about us. I mean a provision for foundlings 2, or for those children who through want of such a provision are exposed to the barbarity of cruel and unnatural parents. One does not know how to speak on such a subject without horror: but what multitudes of infants have been made away by those who brought them into the world, and were afterwards either ashamed, or unable to provide for them. There is scarce an assizes where some unhappy wretch is not executed for the murder of a child. And how many more of these monsters of inhumanity may we suppose to be wholly undiscovered, or cleared for want of legal evidence! Not to mention those, who by unnatural practices do in some measure defeat the intentions of Providence, and destroy their conceptions even before they see the light. In all these the guilt is equal, though the punishment is not so. But to pass by the greatness of the crime (which is not to be expressed by words) if we only consider it as it robs the commonwealth of its full number of citizens, it certainly deserves the utmost application and wisdom of a people to prevent it. It is certain, that which generally betrays these profligate women into it, and overcomes the tenderness which is natural to them on other occasions, is the fear of shame, or their inability to support those whom they give life to. I shall therefore shew how this evil is prevented in other countries, as I have learned from those who have been conversant in the several great cities in Europe. 2 This has since been done by Capt. Thomas Coram, to whom the public is indebted for the Foundling-hospital, built on the site of Lamb's Conduit Fields. |