was received there with great
kindness and politeness by a kinsman of his friend Montague, Charles,
Earl of Manchester, who had just been appointed Ambassador to the Court
of France. The Countess, a Whig and a toast, was probably as gracious as
her lord; for Addison long retained an agreeable recollection of the
impression which she at this time made on him, and, in some lively
lines written on the glasses of the Kitcat Club, described the envy
which her cheeks, glowing with the genuine bloom of England, had excited
among the painted beauties of Versailles.

Louis the Fourteenth was at this time expiating the vices of his youth
by a devotion which had no root in reason, and bore no fruit of charity.
The servile literature of France had changed its character to suit the
changed character of the prince. No book appeared that had not an air of
sanctity. Racine, who was just dead, had passed the close of his life in
writing sacred dramas; and Dacier was seeking for the Athanasian
mysteries in Plato. Addison described this state of things in a short
but lively and graceful letter to Montague. Another letter, written
about the same time to the Lord Chancellor, conveyed the strongest
assurances of gratitude and attachment. "The only return I can make to
your Lordship," said Addison, "will be to apply myself entirely to my
business." With this view he quitted Paris and repaired to Blois, a
place where it was supposed that the French language was spoken in its
highest purity, and where not a single Englishman could be found. Here
he passed some months pleasantly and profitably. Of his way of life at
Blois, one of his associates, an Abbe named Philippeaux, gave an account
to Joseph Spence. If this account is to be trusted, Addison studied
much, mused much, talked little, had fits of absence, and either had no
love affairs, or was too discreet to confide them to the Abbe. A man
who, even when surrounded by fellow countrymen and fellow students, had
always been remarkably shy and silent, was not likely to be loquacious
in a foreign tongue, and among foreign companions. But it is clear from
Addison's letters, some of which were long after published in The
Guardian, that, while he appeared to be absorbed in his own meditations,
he was really observing French society with that keen and sly, yet not
ill-natured side glance, which was peculiarly his own.

From Blois he returned to Paris; and having now mastered the French
language, fo