enemies, we forget the misery of our friends.

Grant this argument all it can prove, and what is the conclusion?--That
to relieve the French is a good action, but that a better may be
conceived. This is all the result, and this all is very little. To do
the best can seldom be the lot of man: it is sufficient if, when
opportunities are presented, he is ready to do good. How little virtue
could be practised, if beneficence were to wait always for the most
proper objects, and the noblest occasions; occasions that may never
happen, and objects that may never be found.

It is far from certain, that a single Englishman will suffer by the
charity to the French. New scenes of misery make new impressions; and
much of the charity, which produced these donations, may be supposed to
have been generated by a species of calamity never known among us
before. Some imagine, that the laws have provided all necessary relief,
in common cases, and remit the poor to the care of the publick; some
have been deceived by fictitious misery, and are afraid of encouraging
imposture; many have observed want to be the effect of vice, and
consider casual alms-givers as patrons of idleness. But all these
difficulties vanish in the present case: we know, that for the prisoners
of war there is no legal provision; we see their distress, and are
certain of its cause; we know that they are poor and naked, and poor and
naked without a crime.

But it is not necessary to make any concessions. The opponents of this
charity must allow it to be good, and will not easily prove it not to be
the best. That charity is best, of which the consequences are most
extensive: the relief of enemies has a tendency to unite mankind in
fraternal affection; to soften the acrimony of adverse nations, and