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%ty Htocrsioe literature &mt& 
 
 LIFE AND WRITINGS OF 
 ADDISON 
 
 BY 
 
 THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 WILLIAM P. TRENT 
 
 
 ~\o^ot 
 
 jfcM 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
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INTRODUCTION. 
 
 There can be little doubt that Lord Macaulay is the 
 most popular writer of English prose that this century has 
 produced. Thousands of copies of his History of England 
 are still sold every year, and travellers tell us that if an 
 Australian settler possesses three books only, the first two 
 will be the Bible and Shakespeare, and the third, Macau- 
 lay's Essays. And yet his authority as a critic and histo- 
 
 an has been shaken, and his capacity as a poet — for his 
 Lays of ancient Rome is a very popular book — seriously 
 questioned. Nor is his popularity confined to any one circle 
 of readers. Cultivated men and women in their conversa- 
 tion and writings assume a knowledge of his works as a 
 matter of course, but the intelligent laboring man, who is 
 striving for an education, is equally, perhaps more, familiar 
 with them. It is plain that a writer who makes such a 
 wide and lasting appeal deserves careful study, and that 
 a brief survey of his life cannot be without interest. 
 
 Thomas Babington Macaulay was born October 25, 1800, 
 at Rothley Temple in Leicestershire. His father Zachary 
 was a Scotchman of probity and talents, who was a dis- 
 tinguished promoter of abolition. Macaulay, therefore, 
 came honestly by the middle-class virtues and defects that 
 are so salient in his character. He was a precocious, nay 
 rather a wonderful child, but does not appear to have been 
 spoiled. His memory was prodigious and his reading enor- 
 mous, while his faculty for turning out hundreds of re- 
 spectable verses was simply phenomenal. After a happy 
 period of schooling he entered Cambridge, where he won 
 prizes for verse, and made a reputation for himself as a 
 scholar and speaker, but failed of the highest honors on 
 
iv MA CAUL AY. 
 
 account of his inaptitude for mathematics. He graduated 
 at twenty-two, was elected a Fellow of Trinity two years 
 later, and the next year startled the world hy his hrilliant 
 essay on Milton in the Edinburgh Review. From this time 
 his career was one of almost unbroken success. He was 
 called to the bar in 1826, but gave more time to his writing 
 and to his political aspirations than to his profession. In 
 1830 he was elected to the House of Commons through the 
 patronage of Lord Lansdowne, and began his career as a 
 staunch Whig at one of the most important crises in Eng- 
 lish history, — that of the first Reform Bill. 
 
 It is quite plain that if Macaulay had taken seriously to 
 politics at this juncture he would have made a name for 
 himself among English statesmen, or at least among Eng- 
 lish orators. The speeches he delivered were enthusias- 
 tically received, he stood high with the ministers of a party 
 just coming into power, he had the courage of his convic- 
 tions, he had the wide erudition that has been a tradition 
 with English statesmen, and he had the practical ability to 
 conduct a political canvass (for the new borough of Leeds) ; 
 but he liked the adulation of society a little too well, and his 
 income was not sufficient to let him bide his time. Dinners 
 at Holland House and breakfasts with Rogers were delight- 
 ful, no doubt, as delightful as the letters in which he de- 
 scribed them to his favorite sister Hannah ; and so too was 
 the praise he got for his articles in the Edinburgh ; but this 
 devotion to society and literature could hardly have been 
 kept up along with an entirely serious and absorbing pur- 
 suit of political honors. He was probably well advised, 
 therefore, when in 1834 he accepted the presidency of a new 
 law commission for India and a membership of the Supreme 
 Council of Calcutta. It meant banishment, but it meant 
 also a princely income of which half could be saved. So 
 he set out, taking his sister Hannah with him, for he was a 
 bachelor, discharged his duties admirably, and returned to 
 England in 1838. 
 
INTRODUCTION. V 
 
 On his return he reentered Parliament and served with 
 distinction but not with conspicuous success. His genius 
 had been diverted and his desires were more than ever 
 divided. He obtained a seat in Lord John Russell's cabinet 
 and supported the Whigs on all great questions, but he was 
 better known as the author of the Lays of Ancient Rome 
 (1842) and the Essays. He lost his seat for Edinburgh in 
 1817, having been too outspoken and liberal in his views, 
 yet this meant little to one who was a student by nature 
 and who was about to bring out the first two volumes of the 
 most popular history ever written (1849). The remaining 
 decade of his life was practically the only period in which his 
 energies were undivided. He was indeed reelected to Par- 
 liament from Edinburgh without his solicitation, and he was 
 raised to the peerage in 1857, being the first man to receive 
 such an honor mainly for literary work ; but he did little be- 
 sides labor on his History and make notable contributions 
 to the Encyclopaedia Britannica. Other honors of various 
 sorts were showered on him and his fame reached the pro- 
 portions of Byron's, but his health began to fail and he did 
 not live long enough to experience any reaction. He died of 
 heart trouble on December 28, 1859, in the fulness of his 
 intellectual powers, and leaving his great history incomplete. 
 
 The chief reasons for Macaulay's tremendous popularity 
 are not far to seek. He possessed a style which whether 
 metallic, as has been claimed, or not, is at all times clear 
 and strenuous. He simply commanded attention by his 
 positive assurance of statement, and, when once he had ob- 
 tained it, took care not to lose it through any obscurity. 
 Rather than indulge in qualifications that might embarrass 
 the reader, he chose, it may be unconsciously, to state half 
 truths as whole truths, and to play the advocate while posing 
 as the critic. The world has always loved the man who 
 knows his own mind, and Macaulay knew his and pro- 
 claimed the fact loudly. Then again the world has always 
 loved the strong man who is not too far aloof from it to 
 
Vl MA CAUL AY. 
 
 hold many of its prejudices and opinions. This was just 
 the case with Macaulay, who was little more than a middle- 
 class Englishman with vastly magnified powers. Subtlety 
 of intellect and delicacy of taste were as far from him as 
 they have always been from a majority of his countrymen, 
 but dogmatic assurance and optimistic confidence in what- 
 ever was English were his in full measure. The very quali- 
 ties that made Tennyson for a long time eclipse Browning 
 made Macaulay eclipse Carlyle, and in both cases a nat- 
 ural reaction set in. Critics called attention to the artifi- 
 cial balance of Macaulay 's sentences, and to the brazen ring 
 of his verses ; they pointed out his blindness to much that 
 is highest and purest in literature ; they convicted him of 
 partisanship and made short work of his assumptions of 
 omniscience. In all this they had considerable truth on 
 their side, but as was natural they went to extremes, and 
 the pendulum of opinion is now swinging in Macaulay's 
 direction again. Mr. Matthew Arnold was right when he 
 insisted on Macaulay's middle-class limitations, but he went 
 too far when he practically denied that Macaulay had any 
 claim to the title of poet. Schoolboys and older readers 
 have not been entirely deluded when they have been car- 
 ried away by the swing of Ivry and of Jloratius. The 
 essay on Milton has done good to thousands of readers, 
 though its critical value is slight in the extreme. The third 
 chapter of the History, describing the England of 1685, 
 remains one of the most brilliant pieces of historical narra- 
 tion ever penned, no matter how partisan Macaulay may 
 have been in the remainder of the work. However much 
 his assumptions of omniscience may vex us, we must per- 
 force admit that no modern specialist has ever known his 
 peculiar subject better than Macaulay knew his chosen 
 period of history, the reigns of James II. and William III. 
 Theorize as much as we will about the pellucid beauties of 
 an unelaborated style, we must confess that if the object of 
 writing be to reach and influence men, Macaulay's balanced, 
 
INTRODUCTION. vii 
 
 antithetical style is one of the most perfect instruments of 
 expression ever made use of by speaker or writer. We 
 may complain that Macaulay often leaves his subject and 
 wanders off into space, but we have to confess with Mr. 
 Saintsbnry that he is one of the greatest stimulators of 
 other minds that ever lived. In short we must conclude 
 that although the brilliant historian and essayist has no 
 such claim to our veneration as a great poet like Words- 
 worth, or a great novelist like Scott, or a great prophet like 
 Carlyle, nevertheless his place is with the honored names of 
 literature, and his fame is no proper subject for carping 
 and ungenerous criticism. 
 
 With regard now to his individual works the highest 
 praise must of course be given to his History. In spite of 
 its incompleteness and its partisan character it is plainly one 
 of the most notable of the world's historical compositions. 
 It yields to the great work of Gibbon, but it would be hard 
 to name any other history in English that is its superior in 
 what is after all the essential point, the art of narration. 
 Macaulay claimed that his favorite Addison might have 
 written a great novel, but the claim might better be made 
 for Macaulay himself, since he was a born story teller. 
 Unkind critics have intimated that he drew upon his imagi- 
 nation for his characters, and the public has always con- 
 fessed that the History is as interesting as a novel. We 
 shall not, however, go so far as to maintain that the His- 
 tory is a novel or that Lord Macaulay was a great novelist 
 spoiled ; but we are at liberty to contend that the great 
 secret of the historian's success lay in his comprehension of 
 the fact that to make the past really live it must be treated 
 in much the same way in which a novelist would treat the 
 materials gathered for his story. 
 
 Perhaps enough has been said about our author's scanty 
 poetry, which appeals chiefly through its swing and vigor, 
 but the Essays will naturally demand somewhat fuller 
 treatment. Their main value lies probably in the stimula- 
 tion they give to the intellectual powers of any reader who 
 
vin MACAULAY. 
 
 has a spark of literary appreciation or the slightest desire 18 ' 
 to learn. Macaulay's erudition is so great and he wears it 
 so lightly that one is instinctively led to wish for a similar 
 mental equipment, and to fancy that it cannot be very diffi- 
 cult of attainment. Whatever Macaulay likes is described 
 in such alluring terms that a reader feels that it would 
 really be too bad for him not to know more about it. The 
 truth of this statement is amusingly illustrated by an anec- 
 dote, given in the Life and Letters, of a gentleman who 
 after reading the review of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Pi'ogress 
 sent a servant after the book. Macaulay was sitting near 
 him in the library of the Athenaeum Club and enjoyed the 
 incident. But, besides their alluring style and their power 
 of mental stimulation, the Essays have the advantage of 
 treating in the main great subjects that people wish to know 
 about, and treating them in such a way as to impart a large 
 amount of compact and very useful information. Perhaps 
 this is the chief reason why men who are self-educated are 
 so familiar with Macaulay. Such readers care very little 
 for the nicer shadings of criticism, but they do care a great 
 deal to have available information and positive opinions 
 furnished them on the great men and events of the past. 
 Hence Macaulay's essay on Bacon will survive the monu- 
 mental answer that Mr. Spedding gave it ; hence his essays 
 on Clive and Warren Hastings will for generations supply 
 the public with all the Indian history it is likely to demand. 
 After the Milton Macaulay wrote about forty essays, all 
 of which appeared in the Edinburgh except the five con- 
 tributed to the Encyclopaedia Britannica. They fall into 
 two main classes, literary and historical, with a few of 
 miscellaneous character, such as that on Sadler's Law of 
 Popidation. It is a striking proof of Macaulay's genius 
 that they are nearly all as well worth reading to-day as 
 they were when they appeared between the yellow and blue 
 covers. As a rule a review is unreadable a few years after 
 its appearance, as is proved by the dust that settles upon 
 the volumes of such contemporaries of Macaulay's as Mack- 
 
INTRODUCTION. ix 
 
 intosh and Talfourd. Their reviews were duly collected 
 into volumes and they were included with Macaulay among 
 the " British Essayists," but they are dead while Macaulay 
 lives. The quarterlies are still published, and their pon- 
 derous reviews are read by leisurely people, and immedi- 
 ately forgotten, for there is no form of literature that has 
 less vitality. Yet Macaulay's reviews are still read by thou- 
 sands and keep alive the names of books and men that 
 would else have long since perished. It is a remarkable 
 literary phenomenon. While Macaulay did not originate 
 the discursive literary review, he first gave it life and popu- 
 larity, and may be compared to a trunk that puts forth 
 many branches. But the branches are all dead or dying, 
 while the trunk seems to be endowed with perpetual life 
 and vigor. Explain it as we may, the fact remains that 
 the essays on Clive and Pitt and Warren Hastings, on Mil- 
 ton and Addison and Johnson, on Barere and Mr. Robert 
 Montgomery's Poems, although belonging by nature to the 
 most ephemeral category of literature, are as fully entitled 
 to be called classics as any compositions written in the Eng- 
 lish language during the present century. 
 
 Four of the best of these classical essays form the basis 
 of this collection, and a careful study of them with the aid 
 of the introductions and notes will initiate the student into 
 much of the secret of Macaulay's power and charm. He 
 should not, however, rest content with them, but should 
 read at least most of the Essays and the poems, and should 
 then go on to complete the five volumes of the History. 
 Even then he will not have all of Macaulay, for the two 
 delightful volumes of the Life and Letters, edited by Mr. 
 Trevelyan, will remain to be enjoyed. Mr. Cotter Mori- 
 son's excellent biography in the English Men of Letters 
 will also be found worth perusing, and if a good analysis of 
 the style of the great essayist be wanted, it can be had in a 
 chapter of Professor Minto's well known Manual of Eng- 
 lish Prose Literature. 
 
Q d sjocLc- 
 
 1 / 
 
 <\(i /. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 
 
 PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 This elaborate essay appeared in the Edinburgh Review for 
 July, 1843. It was nominally a review of Miss Aikin's Life of 
 Joseph Addison, but was really a tribute of Macaulay's own to 
 the character and attainments of a man whom he heartily ad- 
 mired. Its rank among- the literary essays is high, but after all 
 it reaches only a half-way position between the youthful exag- 
 geration and elan of the essay on Milton, and the chastened 
 strength of the essay on Johnson. Considered merely from the 
 point of view of style, it is, of course, worthy of high praise ; but 
 from the point of view of criticism, it is fairly subject to severe 
 animadversion. Macaulay commits the common error of ima- 
 gining, or seeming to imagine, that he cannot do justice to one 
 man of genius without running down all who may be regarded as 
 his competitors. So in our own day the lovers of Shelley seem 
 to consider themselves obliged to act toward Lord Byron. But 
 such partisanship is foreign to the truly catholic critic; and how- 
 ever much we may admire the splendid service that Macaulay 
 was always willing and able to render to the men and causes 
 he admired, we must never forget that his real function was 
 that of an advocate, not of a critic. In the case of Addison the 
 exaggerated note in Macaulay's praise was probably due, as 
 Matthew Arnold has pointed out, to his own inability to see 
 where his favorite writer fell short as a moralist, a critic, and 
 a man. With all his scholarship and all his travel, Macaiday 
 remained at bottom a middle-class Englishman, and therefore 
 the commonplace character of much of Addison's work as a 
 moralist and a critic did not strike him. These same middle- 
 class prejudices also blinded him to the coldness, the formal cor- 
 rectness, that make Addison's character unattractive to many 
 people, while at the same time they rendered him utterly inca- 
 pable of appreciating the magnetic charm of the far from cold 
 
90 MAC AULA Y. 
 
 
 and correct Steele. In short, the essay on Addison suffers 
 greatly from the defects of its author's qualities, and, unlike the 
 tribute to Milton, is not aggressive enough in its partisanship 
 to sweep the reader away. Nevertheless, when all is said, 
 Macaulay's virtues here, as elsewhere, outweigh his faults, and 
 there are few essays in our language that so well repay careful 
 study on the part of the reader who desires to he stimulated 
 toward the attainment of a wider culture. 
 
 With regard to Addison little need be said. That he is not a 
 profound moralist, that he is a conventional rather than a subtle 
 critic, has been discovered by many a reader who did not have 
 Matthew Arnold to guide him; but if this reader has not also 
 discovered that for playful humor and humane satire, Joseph 
 Addison has not his equal in English literature, he should at 
 once throw down his huge modern daily and turn to those short 
 periodical essays that once formed a necessary accompaniment 
 of every fashionable London breakfast. Whether Addison might 
 have made himself the greatest of English novelists, as Macaulay 
 avers, is more than doubtful ; but that he did make himself one 
 of the most graceful and fascinating of essayists, is hardly mat- 
 ter for discussion. One might as well deny the greatness of 
 Meissonier as a genre painter as to deny that of Addison as a 
 writer of sympathetic character sketches, of playful satires, of 
 gracefully imaginative allegories. But Meissonier is not a Rem- 
 brandt, and Addison is not a Balzac or a Fielding. Yet to be 
 the Addison who described Sir Roger's death and conceived The 
 Vision of Mirza is glory enough for one man. If now the stu- 
 dent or general reader wish to become better acquainted with 
 this true though limited genius, he need have no difficulty in 
 obtaining proper helps. For the entire works, Greene's edition 
 is probably to be preferred ; for The Spectator alone, Professor 
 Morley's. The Sir Roger de Coverlet) Papers may be had sepa- 
 rately in the Riverside Literature Series ; and The Tatler, The Guar- 
 dian, and the other periodicals are all included in Chalmers's 
 British Essayists. The most recent biography is Mr. Courthope's 
 in the English Men of Letters, but the lives of Steele by Aitken 
 and Austin Dobson must also be consulted. For criticism one will 
 naturally go to the histories of English literature and to Thack- 
 eray's English Humorists. Hare's Walks in Rome and the same 
 author's Walks in London will clear up any topographical doubts. 
 The names of German writers which appear may be further 
 explained by reference to Wells's Modern German Literature. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 
 
 Some reviewers are of opinion that a lady who 
 dares to publish a book renounces by that act the 
 franchises appertaining to her sex, and can claim no 
 exemption from the utmost rigor of critical proce- 
 dure. From that opinion we dissent. We admit, 
 indeed, that, in a country which boasts of many fe- 
 male writers eminently qualified by their talents and 
 acquirements to influence the public mind, it would 
 be of most pernicious consequence that inaccurate 
 history or unsound philosophy should be suffered to 
 pass uncensured, merely because the offender chanced 
 to be a lady. But we conceive that, on such occa- 
 sions, a critic would do well to imitate the courteous 
 knight who found himself compelled by duty to keep 
 the lists against Bradamante. He, we are told, de- 
 fended successfully the cause of which he was the 
 champion, but, before the fight began, exchanged 
 Balisarda for a less deadly sword, of which he care- 
 fully blunted the point and edge. 1 
 
 Nor are the immunities of sex the only immunities 
 which Miss Aikin 2 may rightfully plead. Several of 
 
 1 See Ariosto's (1474-1533) Orlando Furioso, xlv. 68. The 
 courteous knight was Ruggiero. With Balisarda compare the 
 names of other famous swords, — e. g., Arthur's Excalibur, 
 Hrunting {Beowulf), etc. 
 
 2 Miss Lucy Aikin (1781-1864) was a daughter of Dr. John 
 Aikin, a well-known critic and compiler, and a sister of the bet- 
 
92 MAC A UL AY. 
 
 her works, and especially the very pleasing "Memoirs 
 of the Court of King James I.," have fully entitled 
 her to the privileges enjoyed by good writers. One 
 of those privileges we hold to be this : that such writ- 
 ers, when, either from the unlucky choice of a subject 
 or from the indolence too often produced by success, 
 they happen to fail, shall not be subjected to the 
 severe discipline which it is sometimes necessary to 
 inflict upon dunces and impostors, 1 but shall merely 
 be reminded by a gentle touch, like that with which 
 the Laputan flapper 2 roused his dreaming lord, that 
 it is high time to wake. 
 
 Our readers will probably infer from what we have 
 said that Miss Aikin's book has disappointed us. 
 The truth is, that she is not well acquainted with her 
 subject. No person who is not familiar with the 
 political and literary history of England during the 
 reigns of William III., of Anne, and of George I., 
 can possibly write a good life of Addison. Now, we 
 mean no reproach to Miss Aikin, and many will think 
 that we pay her a compliment when we say that her 
 studies have taken a different direction. She is better 
 acquainted with Shakespeare and Raleigh than with 
 Congreve and Prior, and is far more at home among 
 the ruffs and peaked beards of Theobald's 8 than 
 among the Steenkirks 4 and flowing periwigs which 
 
 ter known Mrs. Barbauld. She wrote memoirs of the courts of 
 Elizabeth and Charles I., besides the work mentioned in the text. 
 
 1 Macanlay is probably alluding to his celebrated scathing 
 review of Mr. Robert Montgomery's poems, which appeared in 
 the Edinburgh for April, 1830. 
 
 2 See Gulliver's Travels, Lapnta, chap. ii. 
 
 8 The country-seat of Elizabeth's famous minister, William 
 Cecil, Lord Burleigh (1520-1598.) 
 
 4 Loose cravats of fine lace, so called because they came into 
 fashion after the defeat of William III. at Steenkirk, in Holland. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 93 
 
 surrounded Queen Anne's tea-table at Hampton. 1 
 She seems to have written about the Elizabethan age, 
 because she had read much about it; she seems, on 
 the other hand, to have read a little about the age of 
 Addison, because she had determined to write about 
 it. The consequence is, that she has had to describe 
 men and things without having either a correct or a 
 vivid idea of them, and that she has often fallen into 
 errors of a very serious kind. The reputation which 
 Miss Aikin has justly earned stands so high, and the 
 charm of Addison's letters is so great, that a second 
 edition of this work may probably be required. If 
 so, we hope that every paragraph will be revised, and 
 that every date and fact about which there can be the 
 smallest doubt will be carefully verified. 
 
 To Addison himself we are bound by a sentiment 
 as much like affection as any sentiment can be which 
 is inspired by one who has been sleeping a hundred 
 and twenty years in Westminster Abbey. We trust, 
 however, that this feeling will not betray us into that 
 abject idolatry which we have often had occasion to 
 reprehend in others, 2 and which seldom fails to make 
 both the idolater and the idol ridiculous. A man of 
 genius and virtue is but a man. All his powers can- 
 not be equally developed, nor can we expect from him 
 perfect self-knowledge. We need not, therefore, hes- 
 itate to admit that Addison has left us some com- 
 positions which do not rise above mediocrity, some 
 heroic poems hardly equal to Parnell's, 3 some criticism 
 
 1 Hampton Court, built by Wolsey, a favorite residence of 
 English sovereigns. 
 
 2 See for example the review of Dr. Nares's Memoirs of Bur- 
 leigh in the Edinburgh for April, 1832. 
 
 8 Thomas Parnell (1679-1717), a poet chiefly remembered for 
 his Hermit. " Heroic poems " must mean poems in the heroic 
 
94 MACAU LAY. 
 
 as superficial as Dr. Blair's, 1 and a tragedy not very 
 much better than Dr. Johnson's. 2 It is pi'aise enough 
 to say of a writer that, in a high department of liter- 
 ature in which many eminent writers have distin- 
 guished themselves, he has had no equal; and this 
 may with strict justice be said of Addison. 
 
 As a man he may not have deserved the adoration 
 which he received from those who, bewitched by his 
 fascinating society, and indebted for all the comforts 
 of life to his generous and delicate friendship, wor- 
 shiped him nightly in his favorite temple at Button's. 3 
 But, after full inquiry and impartial reflection, we 
 have long been convinced that he deserved as much 
 love and esteem as can be justly claimed by any of 
 our infirm and erring race. Some blemishes may 
 undoubtedly be detected in his character; but the 
 more carefully it is examined, the more will it appear, 
 to use the phrase of the old anatomists, sound in the 
 noble parts, free from all taint of perfidy, of coward- 
 ice, of cruelty, of ingratitude, of envy. Men may 
 easily be named in whom some particular good dis- 
 position has been more conspicuous than in Addi- 
 son. But the just harmony of qualities, the exact 
 temper between the stern and the humane virtues, 
 the habitual observance of every law, not only of 
 moral rectitude, but of moral grace and dignity, dis- 
 tinguish him from all men who have been tried by 
 
 couplet. (See page 107, note 2.) The Campaign is heroic in 
 matter as well, but Parnell wrote nothing to which it could well 
 be compared in this respect. 
 
 1 Dr. Hugh Blair (1718-1800), a Scotch divine whose treatise 
 on Rhetoric was once a noted book and is still worth examination. 
 
 2 Irene. See the essay on Johnson, page 27. 
 
 3 For this noted coffee-house, see the essay on Johnson, page 
 67, note 2; and Greene's note to Spectator No. 1. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 95 
 
 equally strong temptations, and about whose conduct 
 we possess equally full information. 
 
 His father was the Rev. Lancelot Addison, who, 
 though eclipsed by his more celebrated son, made 
 some figure in the world, and occupies with credit 
 two folio pages in the "Biographia Britannica." 1 
 Lancelot was sent up, as a poor scholar, from West- 
 moreland to Queen's College, Oxford, in the time of 
 the Commonwealth ; made some progress in learning ; 
 became, like most of his fellow - students, a violent 
 Royalist ; lampooned the heads of the university, 
 and was forced to ask pardon on his bended knees. 
 When he had left college, he earned a humble sub- 
 sistence by reading the liturgy of the fallen church 
 to the families of those sturdy squires whose manor 
 houses were scattered over the Wild of Sussex. 2 After 
 the Restoration, his loyalty was rewarded with the 
 post of chaplain to the garrison of Dunkirk. 3 When 
 Dunkirk was sold to France, he lost his employment. 
 But Tangier had been ceded by Portugal to England 
 as a part of the marriage portion of the Infanta 4 
 Catharine; and to Tangier Lancelot Addison was 
 sent. A more miserable situation can hardly be con- 
 ceived. It was difficult to say whether the unfor- 
 tunate settlers were more tormented by the heats or 
 
 1 Appeared in seven folio volumes between 1747 and 1766, 
 the first important undertaking of its kind in Great Britain. 
 
 - Wild, i. e., Weald. See Encyclopcedia Britannica s. v. " Sus- 
 sex " for an account of the district. 
 
 3 Dunkirk, a seaport of France, ceded to Cromwell in 1658, 
 and ceded back by Charles II. in 1667, to the great disgust of 
 his people. 
 
 4 Infanta is the title applied to Spanish or Portuguese prin- 
 cesses of the blood royal. Here Catharine of Braganza, who 
 married Charles II. in 1662. 
 
96 MACAULAY. 
 
 by the rains ; by the soldiers within the wall, or by 
 the Moors without it. One advantage the chaplain 
 had. He enjoyed an excellent opportunity of study- 
 ing the history and manners of Jews and Mohamme- 
 dans; and of this opportunity he appears to have 
 made excellent use. On his return to England, after 
 some years of banishment, he published an interesting 
 volume on the Polity and Religion of Barbary, and 
 another on the Hebrew Customs and the State of 
 Rabbinical Learning. He rose to eminence in his 
 profession, and became one of the royal chaplains, 
 a doctor of divinity, Archdeacon of Salisbury, and 
 Dean of Lichfield. It is said that he would have 
 been made a bishop after the Revolution, if he had 
 not given offense to the government by strenuously 
 opposing, in the Convocation of 1689, the liberal 
 policy of William and Tillotson. 1 
 
 In 1672, not long after Dr. Addison's return 
 from Tangier, his son Joseph was born. 2 Of Joseph's 
 childhood we know little. He learned his rudiments 
 at schools in his father's neighborhood, and was then 
 sent to the Charter House. 3 The anecdotes which 
 are popularly related about his boyish tricks do not 
 harmonize very well with what we know of his riper 
 years. There remains a tradition that he was the 
 ringleader in a barring-out; and another tradition 
 that he ran away from school, and hid himself in a 
 
 1 John Tillotson (1630-1694), made Archbishop of Canterbury 
 by William III., was noted for his moderation and the eloquence 
 of his sermons, which were long read and admired. 
 
 2 May 1st, at Milston in Wilts. 
 
 3 Charter House — a famous charity consisting of a hospital, 
 chapel, and school, founded in 1611. Among its noted schol- 
 ars, besides Addison and Steele, have been Blackstone, Grote, 
 Thackeray, Thirl wall, and John Wesley. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 97 
 
 wood, where he fed on berries and slept in a hollow 
 tree, till, after a long search, he was discovered and 
 brought home. If these stories be true, it would be 
 curious to know by what moral discipline so mutinous 
 and enterprising a lad was transformed into the gen- 
 tlest and most modest of men. 
 
 We have abundant proof that, whatever Joseph's 
 pranks may have been, he pursued his studies vigor- 
 ously and successfully. At fifteen he was not only 
 fit for the university, but carried thither a classical 
 taste and a stock of learning which would have done 
 honor to a master of arts. He was entered at Queen's 
 College, Oxford ; but he had not been many months 
 there when some of his Latin verses fell by accident 
 into the hands of Dr. Lancaster, 1 Dean of Magdalen 
 College. The young scholar's diction and versifica- 
 tion were already such as veteran professors might 
 envy. Dr. Lancaster was desirous to serve a boy of 
 such promise ; nor was an opportunity long wanting. 
 The Revolution had just taken place, and nowhere 
 had it been hailed with more delight than at Mag- 
 dalen College. That great and opulent corporation 
 had been treated by James, and by his chancellor, 2 
 with an insolence and injustice which, even in such 
 a prince and in such a minister, may justly excite 
 amazement, and which had done more than even the 
 prosecution of the bishops to alienate the Church of 
 
 1 Dr. William Lancaster (1650-1711) seems to have been af- 
 terwards Provost of Queen's College, but not Dean of Magdalen. 
 
 2 The infamous Judge Jeffreys (1G48-1689), noted for his 
 cruelty and brutality. For the treatment of Magdalen College 
 (founded in 1466, pronounced Maudlin), and the famous trial and 
 acquittal of the seven Bishops who in 1687 refused to read in 
 their churches James's declaration of indulgence, see Macaulay'p 
 History, chap. viii. 
 
98 MACAULAY. 
 
 England from the throne. A president : duly elected 
 had been violently expelled from his dwelling; a Pa- 
 pist 2 had been set over the society by a royal man- 
 date; the fellows who, in conformity with their oaths, 
 had refused to submit to this usurper, had been driven 
 forth from their quiet cloisters and gardens to die of 
 want, or to live on charity. But the day of redress 
 and retribution speedily came. The intruders were 
 ejected ; the venerable house was again inhabited by 
 its old inmates ; learning nourished under the rule of 
 the wise and virtuous Hough ; and with learning was 
 united a mild and liberal spirit too often wanting in 
 the princely colleges of Oxford. In consequence of 
 the troubles through which the society had passed, 
 there had been no valid election of new members 
 during the year 1688. In 1689, therefore, there was 
 twice the ordinary number of vacancies ; and thus Dr. 
 Lancaster found it easy to procure for his young 
 friend admittance to the advantages of a foundation 
 then generally esteemed the wealthiest in Europe. 
 
 At Magdalen, Addison resided during ten years. 
 He was at first one of those scholars who are called 
 "Demies," 3 but was subsequently elected a fellow. 
 His college is still proud of his name; his portrait 
 still hangs in the hall; and strangers are still told 
 that his favorite walk was under the elms which 
 fringe the meadow on the banks of the Cherwell. It 
 is said, and is highly probable, that he was distin- 
 
 1 John Hough (1G51-1743), Bishop successively of Oxford, 
 Lichfield, and Worcester. 
 
 2 James first tried to force a wretched person named Anthony 
 Farmer on the college. Afterwards he recommended Parker, 
 Bishop of Oxford, who was not an avowed Papist. 
 
 8 Demies — the name seems to be peculiar to the holders of 
 certain scholarships at Magdalen — half-fellows. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 99 
 
 guished among his fellow-students by the delicacy of 
 his feelings, by the shyness of his manners, and by 
 the assiduity with which he often prolonged his studies 
 far into the night. It is certain that his reputation 
 f Di* ability and learning stood high. Many years 
 later the ancient doctors of Magdalen continued to 
 talk in their common room of his boyish compositions, 
 and expressed their sorrow that no copy of exercises 
 so remarkable had been preserved. 
 
 It is proper, however, to remark that Miss Aikin 
 has committed the error, very pardonable in a lady, 
 of overrating Addison's classical attainments. In 
 one department of learning, indeed, his proficiency 
 was such as it is hardly possible to overrate. His 
 knowledge of the Latin poets, from Lucretius and 
 Catullus down to Claudian and Prudentius, 1 was sin- 
 gularly exact and profound. He understood them 
 thoroughly, entered into their spirit, and had the 
 finest and most discriminating perception of all their 
 peculiarities of style and melody ; nay, he copied their 
 manner with admirable skill, and surpassed, we think, 
 all their British imitators who had preceded him, 
 Buchanan 2 and Milton alone excepted. This is high 
 praise; and beyond this we cannot with justice go. 
 
 1 Lucretius (95-55 B. c.) and Catullus (86-46 B. c.) repre- 
 sent the betcer and earlier Latin poets ; Claudian and Pruden- 
 tius (fourth century A. D.), the latest and less worthy. 
 
 2 George Buchanan (1506-1582), one of the greatest of the 
 early writers of Scotland, was tutor to Mary, Queen of Scots 
 (whose life he wrote in Latin), and to her son James VI., 
 afterwards the pedant king of England. He was prominent in 
 the civil and ecclesiastical affairs of his troubled period, and left 
 behind a large body of writings, of which his Latin poems and 
 his Paraphrase of the Psalms are best remembered. Miltou 
 thought very highly of him. 
 
100 MACAULAY. 
 
 It is clear that Addison's serious attention during his 
 residence at the university was almost entirely con- 
 centrated on Latin poetry, and that, if he did not 
 wholly neglect other provinces of ancient literature, 
 he vouchsafed to them only a cursory glance. He 
 does not appear to have attained more than an ordi- 
 nary acquaintance with the political and moral writers 
 of Rome ; nor was his own Latin prose by any means 
 equal to his Latin verse. His knowledge of Greek, 
 though doubtless such as was in his time thought 
 respectable at Oxford, was evidently less than that 
 which many lads now carry away every year from 
 Eton and Rugby. A minute examination of his 
 works, if we had time to make such an examination, 
 would fully bear out these remarks. We will briefly 
 advert to a few of the facts on which our judgment is 
 grounded. 
 
 Great praise is due to the notes which Addison 
 appended to his version of the second and third books 
 of the "Metamorphoses." Yet those notes, while 
 they show him to have been in his own domain an 
 accomplished scholar, show also how confined that 
 domain was. They are rich in apposite references to 
 Virgil, Statius, 1 and Claudian, but they contain not 
 a single illustration drawn from the Greek poets. 
 Now if, in the whole compass of Latin literature, 
 there be a passage which stands in need of illustration 
 drawn from the Greek poets, it is the story of Pen- 
 theus in the third book of the "Metamorphoses." 
 Ovid was indebted for that story to Euripides and 
 Theocritus, 2 both of whom he has sometimes followed 
 
 1 P. Papinius Statius (61-96 A. D.), author of the Thebais. 
 
 2 See Mahaffy's History of Classical Greek Literature and the 
 Introduction to Lang's Theocritus. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 101 
 
 minutely. But neither to Euripides nor to Theocri- 
 tus does Addison make the faintest allusion; and 
 we therefore believe that we do not wrong him by 
 supposing that he had little or no knowledge of their 
 works. 
 
 His travels in Italy, again, abound with classical 
 quotations happily introduced; but scarcely one of 
 those quotations is in prose. He draws more illustra- 
 tions from Ausonius and Manilius 1 than from Cicero. 
 Even his notions of the political and military affairs 
 of the Romans seem to be derived from poets and 
 poetasters. Spots made memorable by events which 
 have changed the destinies of the world, and which 
 have been worthily recorded by great historians, bring- 
 to his mind only scraps of some ancient versifier. In 
 the gorge of the Apennines he naturally remembers 
 the hardships which Hannibal's army endured, and 
 proceeds to cite, not the authentic narrative of Poly- 
 bius, not the picturesque narrative of Livy, but the 
 languid hexameters of Silius Italicus. On the banks 
 of the Rubicon he never thinks of Plutarch's lively 
 description, or of the stern conciseness of the Com- 
 mentaries, or of those Letters to Atticus which so 
 forcibly express the alternations of hojje and fear in 
 a sensitive mind at a great crisis. His only authority 
 for the events of the civil war is Lucan. 2 
 
 1 D. Magnus Ausonius (fourth century A. D.) and Caius Mani- 
 lius (first century A. D.), minor and obscure Latin poets, the 
 first named, however, being occasionally read and referred to. 
 
 2 Of the names mentioned in this passage the student will be 
 familiar with those of Hannibal, Livy, and Plutarch ; he will at 
 once connect the Rubicon and the Commentaries with Csesar 
 and the Letters with Cicero ; Polybius he should remember as 
 the Greek historian, born just before the defeat of Hannibal at 
 Zama, and hence much more of an authority than Silius Italicus, 
 
102 M AC AULA Y. 
 
 All the best ancient works of art at Rome and 
 Florence are Greek. Addison saw them, however, 
 without recalling one single verse of Pindar, of Calli- 
 machus, or of the Attic dramatists ; 1 but they brought 
 to his recollection innumerable passages of Horace, 
 Juvenal, Statins, and Ovid. 
 
 The same may be said of the treatise on medals. 
 In that pleasing work we find about three hundred 
 passages extracted with great judgment from the 
 Roman poets; but we do not recollect a single pas- 
 sage taken from any Roman orator or historian, and 
 we are confident that not a line is quoted from any 
 Greek writer. No person who had derived all his 
 information on the subject of medals from Addison 
 would suspect that the Greek coins were in histori- 
 cal interest equal, and in beauty of execution far 
 superior, to those of Rome. 
 
 If it were necessary to find any further proof that 
 Addison's classical knowledge was confined within 
 narrow limits, that proof would be furnished by his 
 "Essay on the Evidences of Christianity." 2 The 
 Roman poets throw little or no light on the literary 
 and historical questions which he is under the neces- 
 sity of examining in that essay. He is, therefore, 
 left completely in the dark; and it is melancholy to 
 
 who wrote his poem on the Punic War in the first century A. D.; 
 and he should at least recall of M. Annseus Lucan's (a. d. 
 38-65 ?) Pharsalia, which described the civil war between Pom- 
 pey and Caesar, the often quoted verse: — 
 
 " Victrix causa deis placuit, sed vieta Catoni." 
 
 1 See Mahaffy for Pindar and the dramatists. Callimachus 
 was an Alexandrian poet of the third century b. c, of whose 
 voluminous works only some epigrams and miscellaneous pieces 
 are extant. 
 
 2 See page 209. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 103 
 
 see how helplessly he gropes his way from blunder 
 to blunder. He assigns as grounds for his religious 
 belief stories as absurd as that of the Cock Lane 
 ghost, 1 and forgeries as rank as Ireland's Vortigern; 2 
 puts faith in the lie about the Thundering Legion; 3 
 is convinced that Tiberius moved the senate to admit 
 Jesus among the gods ; 4 and pronounces the letter 
 of Abgarus, King of Edessa, 5 to be a record of great 
 authority. Nor were these errors the effects of super- 
 stition, for to superstition Addison was by no means 
 prone. The truth is, that he was writing about what 
 he did not understand. 
 
 Miss Aikin has discovered a letter from which it 
 appears that, while Addison resided at Oxford, he 
 was one of several writers whom the booksellers en- 
 
 1 See the essay on Johnson, page 40, note 2. 
 
 2 William Henry Ireland (1777-1835) ranks with Lauder 
 and Macpherson and Psalmanazar among literary forgers. He 
 forged Shakespeare documents and pretended to have found a 
 new version of Lear and an entirely new play, Vortigern and 
 Rowena. Malone exposed the imposture, but enough people 
 were gulled to enable Ireland to get his forgeries published and 
 his Vortigern acted at Drury Lane, where it was a dismal failure. 
 In 1805 he published a confession of his guilt, and for thirty 
 years continued to do literary work in poverty and obscurity. 
 
 3 This name was given to a legion of Christians serving in the 
 army of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius against the Quadi. Their 
 prayer for rain to quench their thirst was said to have been fol- 
 lowed by a thunder shower which accomplished their desires, 
 while killing numbers of the enemy by lightning. 
 
 4 The story rests on the authority of Tertullian, the celebrated 
 Christian Father of the end of the second century. 
 
 5 Eusebius, the Church historian, relates how this king was 
 ill and wrote a letter to Christ beseeching Him to come and 
 heal him. Christ replied by letter saying that He would send 
 one of His disciples. After the resurrection St. Thomas sent 
 Thaddfeus, who performed the service. 
 
104 MAC A UL AY. 
 
 gaged to make an English version of Herodotus; and 
 she infers that he must have been a good Greek 
 scholar. We can allow very little weight to this 
 argument when we consider that his fellow-laborers 
 were to have been Boyle and Blackmore. 1 Boyle 
 is remembered chiefly as the nominal author of the 
 worst book on Greek history and philology that ever 
 was printed; and this book, bad as it is, Boyle was 
 unable to produce without help. Of Blackmore's 
 attainments in the ancient tongues, it may be suffi- 
 cient to say, that in his prose he has confounded an 
 aphorism with an apothegm, and that when, in his 
 verse, he treats of classical subjects, his habit is to 
 regale his readers with four false quantities 2 to a 
 page. 
 
 It is probable that the classical acquirements of 
 Addison were of as much service to him as if they 
 had been more extensive. The world generally gives 
 its admiration, not to the man who does what nobody 
 else even attempts to do, but to the man who does 
 best what multitudes do well. Bentley was so immeas- 
 urably superior to all the other scholars of his time, 
 that few among them could discover his superiority. 
 
 1 Charles Boyle (1G76-1731), nephew of the great philosopher, 
 edited the so-called Epistles of Phalaris with the assistance of 
 Atterbury (see Macaulay's essay on the latter), which led to the 
 publication of Dr. Richard Bentley 's (1662-1742), famous Dis- 
 sertation which proved the spuriousness of the Epistles and es- 
 tablished Bentley's fame as the greatest of English classical 
 scholars. Sir Richard Blackmore (1650 ?-l 729), was a better 
 physician than poet, and has been for nearly two centuries the 
 butt of critics. See Johnson's Life of him. 
 
 2 Ancient poetry depended on the quantity of the syllables, so 
 a mistake in this matter was a proof of Blackmore's lack of 
 scholarship. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 105 
 
 But the accomplishment in which Addison excelled 
 his contemporaries was then, as it is now, highly 
 valued and assiduously cultivated at all English seats 
 of learning. Everybody who had been at a public 
 school had written Latin verses: many had written 
 such verses with tolerable success, and were quite able 
 to appreciate, though by no means able to rival, the 
 skill with which Addison imitated Virgil. His lines 
 on the "Barometer " and the "Bowling Green " 1 were 
 applauded by hundreds to whom the " Dissertation on 
 the Epistles of Phalaris " was as unintelligible as the 
 hieroglyphics on an obelisk. 
 
 Purity of style, and an easy flow of numbers, are 
 common to all Addison's Latin poems. Our favorite 
 piece is "The Battle of the Cranes and Pygmies," for 
 in that piece we discern a gleam of the fancy and 
 humor which many years later enlivened thousands of 
 breakfast tables. Swift boasted that he was never 
 known to steal a hint, and he certainly owed as little to 
 his predecessors as any modern writer. Yet we can- 
 not help suspecting that he borrowed, perhaps uncon- 
 sciously, one of the happiest touches in his "Voyage 
 to Lilliput " from Addison's verses. Let our readers 
 judge. 
 
 "The Emperor," says Gulliver, "is taller by about 
 the breadth of my nail than any of his court, which 
 alone is enough to strike an awe into the beholders." 
 
 About thirty years before "Gulliver's Travels" 
 appeared, Addison wrote these lines : — 
 
 " Jamque aeies inter medias sese arduus infert 
 Pygmeadum ductor, qui, majestate verendus, 
 
 1 Sphceristerium. Addison's Latin verse is small in quan- 
 tity. 
 
106 MAC A UL AY. 
 
 Incessiique gravis, reliquos supereminet omnes 
 Mole gigantea, mediamqne asurgit in ulnam." 1 
 
 The Latin poems of Addison were greatly and 
 justly admired, both at Oxford and Cambridge, be- 
 fore his name had ever been heard by the wits who 
 thronged the coffee-houses round Drury Lane Thea- 
 tre. 2 In his twenty-second year he ventured to appear 
 before the public as a writer of English verse. He 
 addressed some complimentary lines to Dryden, 3 who, 
 after many triumphs and many reverses, had at length 
 reached a secure and lonely eminence among the liter- 
 ary men of that age. Dryden appears to have been 
 much gratified by the young scholar's praise, and an 
 interchange of civilities and good offices followed. 
 Addison was probably introduced by Dryden to Con- 
 greve, and was certainly presented by Congreve to 
 Charles Montague, 4 who was then chancellor of the 
 exchequer, and leader of the Whig party in the 
 House of Commons. 
 
 At this time, Addison seemed inclined to devote 
 himself to poetry. He published a translation of 
 part of the fourth "Georgic," "Lines to King Wil- 
 liam," and other performances of equal value; that 
 
 1 The verses occur about the middle of the Prcelium inter 
 Pygmceos et Grues Commissum, and may be roughly rendered : 
 " And now into the midst of the squadrons the bold leader of 
 the Pygmies forces his way, who, venerable in majesty and 
 commanding in his movements, towers over all the rest with his 
 gigantic stature, and rises to the height of the elbow." 
 
 2 See the essay on Johnson, page 26, note. 
 
 8 John Dryden (1631-1700) had seven years to live, and his 
 best work (the Fables and Alexander's Feast) to do when these 
 lines were written (1693). 
 
 4 See the essay on Milton, page 11, note 2. He was afterwards 
 Earl of Halifax, and must not be confused with other statesmen 
 of the same name, one of whom is mentioned in this essay. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 107 
 
 is to say, of no value at all. But in those clays the 
 public was in the habit of receiving- with applause 
 pieces which would now have little chance of ob- 
 taining the Newdigate prize or the Seatonian prize. 1 
 And the reason is obvious. The heroic couplet 2 was 
 then the favorite measure. The art of arranging 
 words in that measure, so that the lines may flow 
 smoothly, that the accents may fall correctly, that the 
 rhymes may strike the ear strongly, and that there 
 may be a pause at the end of every distich, is an art 
 as mechanical as that of mending a kettle or shoeing 
 a horse, and may be learned by any human being who 
 has sense enough to learn anything. But, like other 
 mechanical arts, it was gradually improved by means 
 of many experiments and many failures. It was re- 
 served for Pope to discover the trick, to make him- 
 self complete master of it, and to teach it to every- 
 body else. From the time when his "Pastorals" ap- 
 peared, heroic versification became matter of rule and 
 compass; and before long all artists were on a level. 
 Hundreds of dunces who never blundered on one 
 happy thought or expression were able to write reams 
 of couplets, which, as far as euphony was concerned, 
 could not be distinguished from those of Pope him- 
 self, and which very clever writers of the reign of 
 Charles II. — Rochester, 3 for example, or Marvell, 4 
 
 1 Prizes for English verse awarded at Oxford and Cambridge 
 respectively. 
 
 2 That is, the iambic pentameter, in couplets that in the hands 
 of Pope and his school do not overlap. 
 
 3 John Wilniot, Earl of Rochester (1G47-1G80), author of the 
 famous epitaph on Charles II., and a poet capable of much 
 better work than the mass of his poetry, which is unrivaled for 
 filth and obscenity. 
 
 4 Andrew Marvell (1620-1678) was a politician, a poet of con- 
 
108 MACAULAY. 
 
 or Oldham 1 — would have contemplated with admir- 
 ing despair. 
 
 Ben Jonson was a great man, Hoole 2 a very small 
 man. But Hoole, coming after Pope, had learned 
 how to manufacture decasyllable verses, and poured 
 them forth by thousands and tens of thousands, all 
 as well turned, as smooth, and as like each other as 
 the blocks which have passed through Mr. Brunei's 3 
 mill in the dockyard at Portsmouth. Ben's heroic 
 couplets resemble blocks rudely hewn out by an mi- 
 practiced hand with a blunt hatchet. Take as a 
 specimen his translation of a celebrated passage in 
 the "JEneid :" — 
 
 " This child oar parent earth, stirr'cl up with spite 
 Of all the gods, brought forth, and, as some write, 
 She was last sister of that giant race 
 That sought to scale Jove's court, right swift of j)ace, 
 And swifter far of wing, a monster vast 
 And dreadful. Look, how many plumes are placed 
 On her huge corpse, so many waking eyes 
 Stick underneath, and, which may stranger rise 
 In the report, as many tongues she wears." 4 
 
 Compare with these jagged, misshapen distichs the 
 neat fabric which Hoole's machine produces in unlim- 
 
 siderable powers (see the selections from him in Palgrave's 
 Golden Treasury), and a friend of Milton's. 
 
 1 John Oldham (1655-1683) was a predecessor of Dryden in 
 writing vigorous poetic satires. 
 
 2 John Hoole (1727-1803), chiefly known as a translator of 
 Tasso and Ariosto. 
 
 3 Sir Mark Isambard Brunei (1769-1849), a French engineer 
 who invented a plan for making block pulleys for ships, which 
 was successfully tried at Portsmouth. He was also the engineer 
 of the Thames Tunnel. 
 
 4 The lines are to be found in Jonson's The Poetaster* v., i. 
 in which Virgil is a character. They are a translation of JEneid, 
 iv. 178-183. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 109 
 
 ited abundance. We take the first lines on which we 
 open in his version of Tasso. They are neither better 
 nor worse than the rest : — 
 
 " O thou, whoe'er thou art, whose steps are led, 
 By choice or fate, these lonely shores to tread, 
 No greater wonders east or west can hoast 
 Than yon small island on the pleasing coast. 
 If e'er thy sight would blissful scenes explore, 
 The current pass, and seek the further shore." 1 
 
 Ever since the time of Pope there has been a glut 
 of lines of this sort; and we are now as little dis- 
 posed to admire a man for being able to write them as 
 for being able to write his name. But in the days 
 of William III. such versification was rare; and a 
 rhymer who had any skill in it passed for a great 
 poet, just as, in the dark ages, a person who could 
 write his name passed for a great clerk. Accord- 
 ingly, Duke, Stepney, Granville, Walsh, 2 and others 
 whose only title to fame was that they said in toler- 
 able metre what might have been as well said in 
 prose, or what was not worth saying at all, were hon- 
 ored with marks of distinction which ought to be 
 reserved for genius. With these Addison must have 
 ranked, if he had not earned true and lasting glory 
 by performances which very little resembled his juve- 
 nile poems. 
 
 1 Jerusalem Delivered, xiv. 58. 
 
 2 Richard Duke (died 1710-11), George Stepney (1663- 
 1707), George Granville, afterwards Lord Lansdowne (1667 ?- 
 1735), and William Walsh (1663-1709) are all among the poets 
 who figure in Johnson's Lives ; but even there they take up 
 little room. They are all forgotten save Walsh, who is remem- 
 bered through his connection with Pope and through his amusing 
 poem The Despairing Lover (given in Ward's Poets). Macaulay's 
 criticism of Addison's juvenile poetry is eminently just. 
 
110 MAC AULA Y. 
 
 Dry den was now busied with Virgil, and obtained 
 from Addison a critical preface to the "Georgies." 
 In return for this service, and for other services of 
 cue same kind, the veteran poet, in the postscript to 
 the translation of the "iEneid," complimented his 
 young friend with great liberality, and indeed with 
 more liberality than sincerity. He affected to be 
 afraid that his own performance would not sustain a 
 comparison with the version of the fourth "Georgic," 
 by "the most ingenious Mr. Addison of Oxford." 
 "After his bees," added Dryden, "my latter swarm 
 is scarcely worth the hiving." l 
 
 The time had now arrived when it was necessary 
 for Addison to choose a calling. Everything seemed 
 to point his course towards the clerical profession. 
 His habits were regular, his opinions orthodox. His 
 college had large ecclesiastical preferment in its gift, 
 and boasts that it has given at least one bishop to 
 almost every see in England. Dr. Lancelot Addison 
 held an honorable place in the Church, and had set 
 his heart on seeing his son a clergyman. It is clear, 
 from some expressions in the young man's rhymes, 
 that his intention was to take orders. But Charles 
 Montague interfered. Montague had first brought 
 himself into notice by verses well timed and not con- 
 temptibly written, but never, we think, rising above 
 mediocrity. Fortunately for himself and for his coun- 
 try, he early quitted poetry, in which he could never 
 have attained a rank as high as that of Dorset 2 or 
 
 1 A reference to the subject matter of the fourth Georgic, 
 which treats of bees, and had been translated by Addison. 
 
 2 Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset (1637-1706), a famous 
 patron of men of letters and a poet who has a place in Ward's 
 collection through such graceful society verse as his Song written 
 at Sea. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. Ill 
 
 Rochester, and turned his mind to official and par- 
 liamentary business. It is written that the ingenious 
 person who undertook to instruct Rasselas, 1 prince of 
 Abyssinia, in the art of flying, ascended an eminence, 
 waved his wings, sprang into the air, and instantly 
 dropped into the lake. But it is added that the wings, 
 which were unable to support him through the sky, 
 bore him up effectually as soon as he was in the 
 water. This is no bad type of the fate of Charles 
 Montague, and of men like him. When he attempted 
 to soar into the regions of poetical invention, he alto- 
 gether failed ; but, as soon as he had descended from 
 that ethereal elevation into a lower and grosser ele- 
 ment, his talents instantly raised him above the mass. 
 He became a distinguished financier, debater, cour- 
 tier, and party leader. He still retained his fondness 
 for the pursuits of his early days ; but he showed that 
 fondness, not by wearying the public with his own 
 feeble performances, but by discovering and encour- 
 aging literary excellence in others. A crowd of wits 
 and poets, who would easily have vanquished him as 
 a competitor, revered him as a judge and a patron. 
 In his plans for the encouragement of learning, he 
 was cordially supported by the ablest and most vir- 
 tuous of his colleagues, the Lord Chancellor Somers. 2 
 Though both these great statesmen had a sincere love 
 of letters, it was not solely from a love of letters that 
 they were desirous to enlist youths of high intellectual 
 qualifications in the public service. The Revolution 
 had altered the whole system of government. Before 
 that event, the press had been controlled by censors, 
 
 1 See the essay on Johnson, page 35. 
 
 2 See the essay on Milton, page 50, note 2. Besides Addison's 
 youthful verses to him, the student ought to read the tribute 
 which the matured man paid to him in The Freeholder, No. 39. 
 
112 MACAULAY. 
 
 and the Parliament had sat only two months in eight 
 years. Now the press was free, and had begun to 
 exercise unprecedented influence on the public mind. 
 Parliament met annually and sat long. The chief 
 power in the State had passed to the House of Com- 
 mons. At such a conjuncture it was natural that 
 literary and oratorical talents should rise in value. 
 There was danger that a government which neglected 
 such talents might be subverted by them. It was, 
 therefore, a profound and enlightened policy which 
 led Montague and Somers to attach such talents to 
 the Whig party by the strongest ties both of interest 
 and of gratitude. 
 
 It is remarkable that in a neighboring country we 
 have recently seen similar effects follow from similar 
 causes. The Revolution of July, 1830, established 
 representative government in France. The men of 
 letters instantly rose to the highest importance in the 
 State. 1 At the present moment, most of the persons 
 whom we see at the head both of the Administra- 
 tion and of the Opposition have been professors, his- 
 torians, journalists, poets. The influence of the lit- 
 erary class in England during the generation which 
 followed the Revolution was great, but by no means 
 so great as.it has lately been in France; for in Eng- 
 land the aristocracy of intellect had to contend with 
 a powerful and deeply rooted aristocracy of a very 
 different kind. France had no Somersets and Shrews- 
 buries 2 to keep down her Addisons and Priors. 
 
 It was in the year 1699, when Addison had just 
 
 1 For example, Thiers, Guizot, Chateaubriand. 
 
 2 Representative Whig statesmen of the period, — Charles 
 Seymour (1661-1748), Duke of Somerset, and Charles Talbot 
 (1660-1718), Duke of Shrewsbury. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 113 
 
 completed his twenty-seventh year, that the course 
 of his life was finally determined. Both the great 
 chiefs of the ministry were kindly disposed towards 
 him. In political opinions he already was, what he 
 continued to be through life, a firm though a moder- 
 ate Whig. He had addressed the most polished and 
 vigorous of his early English lines to Somers, and 
 had dedicated to Montague a Latin poem, truly Vir- 
 gilian both in style and rhythm, on the peace of Rys- 
 wick. The wish of the young poet's great friends 
 was, it should seem, to employ him in the service of 
 the Crown abroad. But an intimate knowledge of 
 the French language was a qualification indispensable 
 to a diplomatist, and this qualification Addison had 
 not acquired. It was therefore thought desirable that 
 he should pass some time on the Continent in prepar- 
 ing himself for official employment. His own means 
 were not such as would enable him to travel, but a 
 pension of three hundred pounds a year was pro- 
 cured for him by the interest of the lord chancellor. 
 It seems to have been apprehended that some diffi- 
 culty might be started by the rulers of Magdalen Col- 
 lege, but the chancellor of the exchequer wrote in 
 the strongest terms to Hough. The State — such was 
 the purport of Montague's letter — could not at that 
 time spare to the Church such a man as Addison. 
 Too many high civil posts were already occupied by 
 adventurers, who, destitute of every liberal art and 
 sentiment, at once pillaged and disgraced the country 
 which they pretended to serve. It had become neces- 
 sary to recruit for the public service from a very dif- 
 ferent class, — from that class of which Addison was 
 the representative. The close of the minister's letter 
 was remarkable. "I am called," he said, "an enemy 
 
114 MACAULAY. 
 
 of the Church ; but I will never do it any other injury 
 than keeping Mr. Addison out of it." 
 
 This interference was successful; and in the sum- 
 mer of 1699 Addison, made a rich man by his pen- 
 sion, and still retaining his fellowship, quitted his 
 beloved Oxford, and set out on his travels. He 
 crossed from Dover to Calais, proceeded to Paris, and 
 was received there with great kindness and politeness 
 by a kinsman of his friend Montague, Charles, Earl 
 of Manchester, 1 who had just been appointed ambas- 
 sador to the court of France. The countess, a Whig 
 and a toast, 2 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 Kit Cat Club, 3 described the envy which her 
 cheeks, glowing with the genuine bloom of England, 
 had excited among the painted beauties of Versailles. 
 
 Louis XIV. was at this time expiating the vices of 
 his youth by a devotion which had no root in rea- 
 son and bore no fruit of charity. The servile litera- 
 ture of France had changed its character to suit the 
 changed character of the prince. No book appeared 
 
 1 Charles Montagu, first Duke of Manchester (1660-1722), 
 married Dodington, second daughter of Lord Brooke. 
 
 2 That is, her beauty and charms were drunk to by men of 
 fashion at their banquets. For the origin of the term, see The 
 Taller, No. 24. 
 
 3 The Kit Cat Club was formed about 1700 by a number of 
 prominent Whigs. It got its name, according to one story, from 
 that of the maker of its mutton pies — Christopher Cat. An- 
 other story combines the name of the tavern-keeper, Christopher, 
 with the sign of the tavern, a cat. One custom of the club was 
 to have each new member name a toast, whereupon a glass was 
 engraved with verses in honor of the lady. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 115 
 
 that had not an air of sanctity. Racine, 1 who was 
 just dead, had passed the close of his life in writ- 
 ing sacred dramas ; and Dacier 2 was seeking for the 
 Athanasian mysteries in Plato. Addison described 
 this state of things in a short but lively and grace- 
 ful 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 pur- 
 ity, 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 ac- 
 count to Joseph Spence. 3 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 
 
 1 Jean Racine (1639-1699), the famous French tragic dra- 
 matist. 
 
 2 Andre" Dacier (1652 ?-1722) was a distinguished French 
 classical scholar, whose wife (Anne Lefevre, 1654-1720) was 
 also noted as a translator. He was at this time trying to con- 
 nect the chief mysteries of Christianity (represented in the 
 Athanasian theology, so called after Athanasius, the great 
 Bishop of Alexandria, ahout 296-373 A. D.) with the philosophy 
 of Plato. 
 
 8 (1699-1768). He was Professor of Poetry at Oxford, and 
 was intimate with Pope and other celehrities, of whom he has 
 much to say in his Anecdotes. 
 
116 MA CAUL AY. 
 
 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," 1 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, found great pleas- 
 ure in the society of French philosophers and poets. 
 He gave an account, in a letter to Bishop Hough, 
 of two highly interesting conversations, one with 
 Malebranche, the other with Boileau. 2 Malebranche 
 expressed great partiality for the English, and ex- 
 tolled the genius of Newton, but shook his head when 
 Hobbes was 3 mentioned, and was indeed so unjust as 
 to call the author of "The Leviathan" a poor, silly 
 creature. Addison's modesty restrained him from 
 fully relating, in his letter, the circumstances of his 
 introduction to Boileau. Boileau, having survived 
 the friends and rivals of his youth, — old, deaf, and 
 melancholy, — lived in retirement, seldom went either 
 to court or to the Academy, 4 and was almost inacces- 
 
 1 Nos. 101 and 104. 
 
 2 For Nicolas Malebranche (1638-1715), the philosopher, 
 and Nicolas Boileau-Despreaux (1636-1711), the poetic satirist 
 and literary dictator, see some history of French literature like 
 Lanson's. 
 
 3 Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679), the philosopher, whose Le- 
 viathan is an important treatise in theoretical politics. 
 
 4 The famous French Academy was founded in 1635 by Car- 
 dinal Richelieu, It grew out of a private club, but since its 
 recognition by government has been the official representative 
 of the cause of letters in France. It consists of forty members, 
 and its chief collective work is its great Dictionary. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 117 
 
 sible to strangers. Of the English and of English 
 literature he knew nothing. He had hardly heard 
 the name of Dry den. Some of our countrymen, in 
 the warmth of their patriotism, have asserted that 
 this ignorance must have been affected. We own 
 that we see no ground for such a supposition. Eng- 
 lish literature was to the French of the age of Louis 
 XIV. what German literature was to our own grand- 
 fathers. Very few, we suspect, of the accomplished 
 men who, sixty or seventy years ago, used to dine 
 in Leicester Square with Sir Joshua, or at Streatham 
 with Mrs. Thrale, 1 had the slightest notion that Wie- 
 land was one of the first wits and poets, and Lessing, 2 
 beyond all dispute, the first critic in Europe. Boileau 
 knew just as little about the "Paradise Lost," and 
 about "Absalom and Achitophel; " 3 but he had read 
 Addison's Latin poems, and admired them greatly. 
 They had given him, he said, quite a new notion of 
 the state of learning and taste among the English. 
 Johnson will have it that these praises were insincere. 
 "Nothing," says he, "is better known of Boileau 
 than that he had an injudicious and peevish contempt 
 of modern Latin; and therefore his profession of 
 regard was probably the effect of his civility rather 
 than approbation." Now, nothing is better known 
 of Boileau than that he was singularly sparing of 
 compliments. We do not remember that either 
 
 1 See Boswell's Life of Johnson, and the essay on Johnson. 
 Sir Joshua is, of course, Sir Joshua Reynolds, the great painter. 
 
 2 Cristoph Martin Wieland (1733-1813), the author of Obe- 
 ron, and Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729-1781), famous for 
 his dramas Minna von Barnhelm, Emilia Galotti, and Nathan der 
 Weise, and especially for his great critical treatise Laocoon, or 
 the Limits of Painting and Poetry. 
 
 '•'• See Dryden's Works. It is his greatest political satire. 
 
118 MACAULAY. 
 
 friendship or fear ever induced him to bestow praise 
 on any 'composition which he did not approve. On 
 literary questions his caustic, disdainful, and self- 
 confident spirit rebelled against that authority to 
 which everything else in France bowed down. He 
 had the spirit to tell Louis XIV., firmly and even 
 rudely, that his Majesty knew nothing about poetry, 
 and admired verses which were detestable. What 
 was there in Addison's position that could induce the 
 satirist, whose stern and fastidious temper had been 
 the dread of two generations, to turn sycophant for 
 the first and last time? Nor was Boileau's contempt 
 of modern Latin either injudicious or peevish. He 
 thought, indeed, that no poem of the first order would 
 ever be written in a dead language. And did he 
 think amiss? Has not the experience of centuries 
 confirmed his opinion? Boileau also thought it prob- 
 able that, in the best modern Latin, a writer of the 
 Augustan age would have detected ludicrous impro- 
 prieties. And who can think otherwise? What mod- 
 ern scholar can honestly declare that he sees the small- 
 est impurity in the style of Livy? Yet is it not 
 certain that, in the style of Livy, Pollio, 1 whose taste 
 had been formed on the banks of the Tiber, detected 
 the inelegant idiom of the Po? Has any modern 
 scholar understood Latin better than Frederick the 
 Great understood French? Yet is it not notorious 
 that Frederick the Great — after reading, speaking, 
 writing French, and nothing but French, during more 
 than half a century; after unlearning his mother 
 
 1 C. Asinius Pollio (76 b. c-4 a. d.), the famous Roman 
 general, author, and patron of learning. (See Virgil's fourth 
 Eclogue.) Nearly all his writings are lost save some letters to 
 Cicero. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 119 
 
 tongue in order to learn French ; after living famil- 
 iarly during many years with French associates — 
 could not, to the last, compose in French without 
 imminent risk of committing some mistake which 
 would have moved a smile in the literary circles of 
 Paris ? Do we believe that Erasmus 1 and Fracasto- 
 rius 2 wrote Latin as well as Dr. Robertson 3 and Sir 
 Walter Scott wrote English ? And are there not in 
 the "Dissertation on India," the last of Dr. Robert- 
 son's works, in "Waverley," in "Marmion," Scotti- 
 cisms at which a London apprentice would laugh? 
 But does it follow, because we think thus, that we 
 can find nothing to admire in the noble alcaics 4 of 
 Gray, or in the playful elegiacs 5 of Vincent Bourne? 6 
 Surely not. Nor was Boileau so ignorant or tasteless 
 as to be incapable of appreciating good modern Latin. 
 In the very letter to which Johnson alludes, 7 Boileau 
 
 1 Desiclerius Erasmus (1467 ?-1536), the great Dutch hu- 
 manist, theological controversialist, and satirist. See Fronde's 
 lectures on him, and Charles Reade's The Cloister and the 
 Hearth. 
 
 2 Hieronymo Fracastorio (1483-1553), a learned Italian phy- 
 sician and poet. 
 
 8 See the essay on Johnson, page 60, note. 
 
 4 Lines in a lyric strophe invented hy Alcseus, the Greek poet. 
 Perhaps the hest of Gray's alcaics is the fragment beginning 
 " O lachrymarum fons." 
 
 5 That is, poems written in a succession of distichs consisting 
 of a dactylic hexameter followed by a dactjdic pentameter. 
 The measure gets its name from having been early used in 
 poems of lament. 
 
 6 (1695 7-1747.) An usher in Westminster School, who wrote 
 entirely in Latin verse of excellent quality. Cowper, his pupil, 
 has translated many of his verses. 
 
 7 In his Life of Addison, to which several references are 
 made. 
 
120 MACAULAY. 
 
 says: "Ne croyez pas pourtant que je veuille par la 
 blamer les vers Latins que vous m'avez envoyes d'un 
 de vos illustres aeademiciens. Je les ai trouves fort 
 beaux, et dignes de Vida et de Sannazar, mais non 
 pas d'Horace et de Virgile." 1 Several poems in 
 modern Latin have been praised by Boileau quite as 
 liberally as it was his habit to praise anything-. He 
 says, for example, of the Pere Fraguier's 2 epigrams, 
 that Catullus seems to have come to life again. But 
 the best proof that Boileau did not feel the undis- 
 cerning contempt for modern Latin verses which has 
 been imputed to him is, that he wrote and published 
 Latin verses in several metres. Indeed, it happens, 
 curiously enough, that the most severe censure ever 
 pronounced by him on modern Latin is conveyed in 
 Latin hexameters. We allude to the fragment which 
 begins : — 
 
 " Quid numeris iterum me balbutire Latinis, 
 Longe Alpes citra natuni de patre Sicambro, 
 Musa, jubes ? " 3 
 
 For these reasons we feel assured that the praise 
 which Boileau bestowed on the "Machinae Gesticu- 
 
 1 " Don't think, however, that I want by that to blame the 
 Latin verses of one of your illustrious Academicians that you 
 have sent me. I have found them very beautiful and worthy of 
 Vida and of Sannazaro, but not of Horace and of Virgil." From 
 letter to Brossette, October 6, 1701. Marco Girolamo Vida 
 (1489 ?-156G) and Giacopo Sannazaro (1458-1530) were Ital- 
 ian poets noted for their Latin verses. Vida's best known work 
 is his Art of Poetry • Sannazaro's is his Arcadia (not in Latin). 
 
 2 Claude Francois Fraguier (1GG6-1728), a French Jesuit, 
 who wrote good Latin verses. 
 
 3 " Why, Muse, do you bid me, born of a Sicambrian father 
 a long way this side of the Alps, to stammer again in Latin 
 numbers ? " The opening lines of a fragmentary Satira. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 121 
 
 lantes" and the " Gerano-Pygmaeomachia " 2 was sin- 
 cere. He certainly opened himself to Addison with 
 a freedom which was a sure indication of esteem. 
 Literature was the chief subject of conversation. The 
 old man talked on his favorite theme much and well, 
 indeed, as his young hearer thought, incomparably 
 well. Boileau had undoubtedly some of the qual- 
 ities of a great critic. He wanted imagination, but 
 he had strong sense. His literary code was formed 
 on narrow principles, but in applying it he showed 
 great judgment and penetration. In mere style, ab- 
 stracted from the ideas of which style is the garb, his 
 taste is excellent. He was well acquainted with the 
 great Greek writers; and, though unable fully to 
 appreciate their creative genius, admired the majestic 
 simplicity of their manner, and had learned from 
 them to despise bombast and tinsel. It is easy, we 
 think, to discover in "The Spectator " and "The Guar- 
 dian" traces of the influence, in part salutary and in 
 part pernicious, which the mind of Boileau had on 
 the mind of Addison. 
 
 While Addison was at Paris, an event took place 
 which made that capital a disagreeable residence for 
 an Englishman and a Whig. Charles, 2 second of the 
 name, King of Spain, died, and bequeathed his do- 
 minions to Philip, Duke of Anjou, a younger son of 
 the Dauphin. The King of France, in direct viola- 
 tion of his engagements both with Great Britain and 
 with the States General, 3 accepted the bequest on 
 
 1 Titles of Addison's Latin poems, A Puppet-Show and The 
 Battle of the Cranes and Pygmies. 
 
 2 1661-1700. He was a wretchedly incompetent monarch. 
 
 8 Holland, or rather the representative assembly of the prov- 
 inces of the Netherlands. 
 
122 MACAULAY. 
 
 behalf of his grandson. The house of Bourbon was 
 at the summit of human grandeur. England had 
 been outwitted, and found herself in a situation at 
 once degrading and perilous. The people of France, 
 not presaging the calamities by which they were des- 
 tined to expiate the perfidy of their sovereign, went 
 mad with pride and delight. Every man looked as 
 if a great estate had just been left him. "The 
 French conversation," said Addison, "begins to grow 
 insupportable ; that which was before the vainest na- 
 tion in the world is now worse than ever." Sick of 
 the arrogant exultation of the Parisians, and prob- 
 ably foreseeing that the peace between France and 
 England could not be of long duration, he set off for 
 Italy. 
 
 In December, 1700, * he embarked at Marseilles. 
 As he glided along the Ligurian 2 coast, he was de- 
 lighted by the sight of myrtles and olive-trees, which 
 retained their verdure under the winter solstice. 
 Soon, however, he encountered one of the black 
 storms of the Mediterranean. The captain of the 
 ship gave up all for lost, and confessed himself to a 
 Capuchin who happened to be on board. The English 
 heretic, in the mean time, fortified himself against 
 the terrors of death with devotions of a very different 
 kind. How strong an impression this perilous voy- 
 age made on him appears from the ode, "How are 
 
 1 Macanlay's footnote: It is strange that Addison should, in 
 the first line of his travels, have misdated his departure from 
 Marseilles by a whole year, and still more strange that this slip 
 of the pen, which throws the whole narrative into inextricable 
 confusion, should have been repeated in a succession of editions, 
 and never detected by Tickell or by Hurd. 
 
 2 The northwestern coast of Italy, so called from the primi- 
 tive inhabitants, the Ligures. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 123 
 
 thy servants blest, O Lord!" which was long' after 
 published in "The Spectator." After some daj^s of 
 discomfort and danger, Addison was glad to land at 
 Savona, 1 and to make his way, over mountains where 
 no road had yet been hewn out by art, to the city of 
 Genoa. 
 
 At Genoa, still ruled by her own doge and by the 
 nobles whose names were inscribed on her Book of 
 Gold, 2 Addison made a short stay. He admired the 
 narrow streets overhung by long lines of towering 
 palaces, the walls rich with frescoes, the gorgeous tem- 
 ple of the Annunciation, and the tapestries whereon 
 were recorded the long glories of the house of Doria. 3 
 Thence he hastened to Milan, where he contemplated 
 the Gothic magnificence of the cathedral with more 
 wonder than pleasure. He passed Lake Benacus 4 
 while a gale was blowing, and saw the waves raging 
 as they raged when Virgil looked upon them. At 
 Venice, then the gayest city in Europe, the traveler 
 spent the Carnival, the gayest season of the year, in 
 the midst of masques, dances, and serenades. Here 
 he was at once diverted and provoked by the ab- 
 surd dramatic pieces which then disgraced the Italian 
 stage. To one of those pieces, however, he was in- 
 debted for a valuable hint. He was present when 
 a ridiculous play on the death of Cato was performed. 
 Cato, it seems, was in love with the daughter of 
 Scipio. The lady had given her heart to Caesar. 
 The rejected lover determined to destroy himself. 
 
 1 On the coast about twenty-five miles west from Genoa. 
 
 2 This register of nobility is usually connected with Venice. 
 
 3 Doria, the celebrated family of Genoa, of whom the chief 
 representative was Andrea, the great admiral (1466-1560). 
 
 4 Now Lago di Garda, the largest of the Italian lakes. 
 
124 MA CAUL AY. 
 
 He appeared seated in his library, a dagger in his 
 hand, a Plutarch and a Tasso before him; and in this 
 position he pronounced a soliloquy before he struck 
 the blow. We are surprised that so remarkable a 
 circumstance as this should have escaped the notice 
 of all Addison's biographers. There cannot, we con- 
 ceive, be the smallest doubt that this scene, in spite 
 of its absurdities and anachronisms, struck the trav- 
 eler's imagination, and suggested to him the thought 
 of bringing "Cato " on the English stage. It is well 
 known that about this time he began his tragedy, and 
 that he finished the first four acts before he returned 
 to England. 
 
 On his way from Venice to Rome, he was drawn 
 some miles out of the beaten road by a wish to see 
 the smallest independent state in Europe. On a rock 
 where the snow still lay, though the Italian spring 
 was now far advanced, was perched the little fortress 
 of San Marino. 1 The roads which led to the secluded 
 town were so bad that few travelers had ever visited 
 it, and none had ever published an account of it. 
 Addison could not suppress a good-natured smile at 
 the simple manners and institutions of this singular 
 community; but he observed, with the exultation of 
 a Whig, that the rude mountain tract which formed 
 the territory of the republic swarmed with an honest, 
 healthy, and contented peasantry, while the rich plain 
 which surrounded the metropolis of civil and spiritual 
 tyranny was scarcely less desolate than the uncleared 
 wilds of America. 
 
 At Rome, Addison remained on his first visit only 
 long enough to catch a glimpse of St. Peter's and of 
 
 1 Still a tiny republic covering only thirty-three miles square. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 125 
 
 the Pantheon. His haste is the more extraordinary 
 because the Holy Week was close at hand. He has 
 given no hint which can enable ns to pronounce why 
 he chose to fly from a spectacle which every year 
 allures from distant regions persons of far less taste 
 and sensibility than his. Possibly, traveling, as he 
 did, at the charge of a government distinguished by 
 its enmity to the Church of Rome, he may have 
 thought that it would be imprudent in him to assist 
 at the most magnificent rite of that church. Many 
 eyes would be upon him, and he might find it difficult 
 to behave in such a manner as to give offense neither 
 to his patrons in England nor to those among whom 
 he resided. Whatever his motives may have been, 
 he turned his back on the most august and affecting- 
 ceremony which is known among men, and posted 
 along the Appian Way l to Naples. 
 
 Naples was then destitute of what are now, per- 
 haps, its chief attractions. The lovely bay and the 
 awful mountain were indeed there; but a farmhouse 
 stood on the theatre of Herculaneum, and rows of 
 vines grew over the streets of Pompeii. 2 The tem- 
 ples of Paastum 3 had not, indeed, been hidden from 
 the eye of man by any great convulsion of nature; 
 but, strange to say, their existence was a secret even 
 to artists and antiquaries. Though situated within a 
 
 1 The oldest and best known of the Roman roads, named 
 after its constructor, Appins Claudius, the great orator and 
 statesman (died after 280 b. c). 
 
 2 See Bulwer's famous novel, The Last Days of Pompeii. 
 Herculaneum was discovered by accident in 1713, Pompeii in 
 1750. The work of excavation is still going on. 
 
 3 Psestum, originally the Greek Posidonia; it was sacked in 
 the first and eleventh centuries, a. d., and deserted in the 
 sixteenth. 
 
126 MACAU LAY. 
 
 few hours' journey of a great capital, where Salvator * 
 had not long before painted, and where Vico 2 was then 
 lecturing, those noble remains were as little known to 
 Europe as the ruined cities overgrown by the forests 
 of Yucatan. What was to be seen at Naples, Ad- 
 dison saw. He climbed Vesuvius, explored the tun- 
 nel of Posilipo, 3 and wandered among the vines and 
 almond-trees of Caprea?. 4 But neither the wonders 
 of nature nor those of art could so occupy his atten- 
 tion as to prevent him from noticing, though curso- 
 rily, the abuses of the government and the misery 
 of the people. The great kingdom which had just 
 descended to Philip V. 5 was in a state of paralytic 
 dotage. Even Castile and Aragon were sunk in 
 wretchedness. Yet, compared with the Italian de- 
 pendencies of the Spanish Crown, Castile and Aragon 
 might be called prosperous. It is clear that all the 
 observations which Addison made in Italy tended to 
 confirm him in the political opinions which he had 
 adopted at home. To the last he always spoke of 
 foreign travel as the best cure for Jacobitism. In his 
 "Freeholder" 6 the Tory fox-hunter asks what travel- 
 
 1 Salvator Rosa (1615-1673), a famous Italian landscape and 
 portrait painter. 
 
 2 Giovanni Battista Vico (1668-1744 ?), a noted Neapolitan 
 jurist and pioneer in philosophic history. 
 
 3 Posilipo (Lat. Pausilypum) is a promontory hetween Naples 
 and Puteoli. The grotto, which is well described by Addison, 
 was supposed to have been made by Virgil in his capacity of ma- 
 gician. 
 
 4 Caprese (Capri), an island, noted for its beautiful scenery, 
 on the north side of the Bay of Naples. 
 
 5 Louis XIV.'s grandson (1683-1746), over whom the War of 
 the Spanish Succession was fought, and who was finally left on 
 the throne of Spain. Naples at this time belonged to Spain. 
 
 6 The Freeholder was a weekly political sheet published by 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 127 
 
 ing is good for, except to teach a man to jabber 
 French and to talk against passive obedience. 
 
 From Naples, Addison returned to Rome by sea, 
 along the coast which his favorite Virgil had cele- 
 brated. The felucca passed the headland where the 
 oar and trumpet were placed by the Trojan adventur- 
 ers on the tomb of Misenus, 1 and anchored at night 
 under the shelter of the fabled promontory of Circe. 2 
 The voyage ended in the Tiber, still overhung with 
 dark verdure, and still turbid with yellow sand, as 
 when it met the eyes of iEneas. 3 From the ruined 
 port of Ostia the stranger hurried to Rome, and at 
 Rome he remained during those hot and sickly 
 months when, even in the Augustan age, all who 
 could make their escape fled from mad dogs and from 
 streets black with funerals, to gather the first figs of 
 the season in the country. It is probable that when 
 he, long after, poured forth in verse his gratitude to 
 the Providence which had enabled him to breathe 
 unhurt in tainted air, he was thinking of the August 
 and September which he passed at Rome. 
 
 It was not till the latter end of October that he 
 tore himself away from the masterpieces of ancient 
 and modern art which are collected in the city so 
 
 Addison from Friday, December 23, 1715, to Friday, June 29, 
 1716 (fifty-five numbers), in support of the House of Hanover, 
 then just established, and recently threatened by the uprising 
 under the Old Pretender. The essays as a whole are not particu- 
 larly interesting. That referred to by Macaulay is No. 22, and 
 is considered one of Addison's best. 
 
 1 See JEneid, vi. 1G2 seq. Misenus was a trumpeter said to 
 have been burned on the promontory that bears his name. 
 
 2 Monte Circeio, a promontory thought to have been once 
 the island of the enchantress Circe. 
 
 3 JEneid, vii. 1-24. 
 
128 M AC AULA Y. 
 
 long the mistress of the world. He then journeyed 
 northward, passed through Sienna, and for a moment 
 forgot his prejudices in favor of classic architecture 
 as he looked on the magnificent cathedral. At Flor- 
 ence he spent some days with the Duke of Shrews- 
 bury, 1 who — cloyed with the pleasures of ambition 
 and impatient of its pains, fearing both parties and 
 loving neither — had determined to hide in an Ital- 
 ian retreat talents and accomplishments which, if they 
 had been united with fixed principles and civil cour- 
 age, might have made him the foremost man of his 
 age. These days, we are told, passed pleasantly, and 
 we can easily believe it; for Addison was a delight- 
 ful companion when he was at his ease ; and the duke, 
 though he seldom forgot that he was a Talbot, had 
 the invaluable art of putting at ease all who came 
 near him. 
 
 Addison gave some time to Florence, and espe- 
 cially to the sculptures in the Museum, which he 
 preferred even to those of the Vatican. He then 
 pursued his journey through a country in which the 
 ravages of the last war were still discernible, and in 
 which all men were looking forward with dread to 
 a still fiercer conflict. Eugene 2 had already de- 
 scended from the Rhaetian Alps to dispute with Cati- 
 nat 3 the rich plain of Lombardy. The faithless ruler 
 of Savoy 4 was still reckoned among the allies of 
 
 1 See p. 112, note 2. Also Macaulay's History, chap. xxii. 
 
 2 Prince Eugene (1663-1736), next in prowess to Marlborough 
 among the allies in the War of the Spanish Succession. 
 
 3 Nicolas Catinat (1637-1712), Marshal of France, a fine sol- 
 dier and a noble character. 
 
 4 Victor Amadeus II. (1666-1732), Duke of Savoy, first King 
 of Sardinia (1720). Resigned to his son in 1730. See Brown- 
 ing's play, King Victor and King Charles. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 129 
 
 Louis. England had not yet actually declared war 
 against France, but Manchester l had left Paris, and 
 the negotiations which produced the Grand Alliance 2 
 against the house of Bourbon were in progress. Un- 
 der such circumstances, it was desirable for an Eng- 
 lish traveler to reach neutral ground without delay. 
 Addison resolved to cross Mont Cenis. It was De- 
 cember, and the road was very different from that 
 which now reminds the stranger of the power and 
 genius of Napoleon. The winter, however, was mild ; 
 and the passage was, for those times, easy. To this 
 journey Addison alluded when, in the ode which we 
 have already quoted, he said that for him the Divine 
 Goodness had warmed the hoary Alpine hills. 3 
 
 It was in the midst of the eternal snow that he 
 composed his "Epistle" to his friend Montague, now 
 Lord Halifax. That "Epistle," once widely re- 
 nowned, is now known only to curious readers, and 
 will hardly be considered by those to whom it is 
 known as in any perceptible degree heightening Addi- 
 son's fame. It is, however, decidedly superior to any 
 English composition which he had previously pub- 
 lished. Nay, we think it quite as good as any poem 
 in heroic metre which appeared during the interval 
 between the death of Diyden and the publication of 
 the "Essay on Criticism." 4 It contains passages as 
 good as the second-rate passages of Pope, and would 
 have added to the reputation of Parnell or Prior. 5 
 
 1 See page 114, note 1. 
 
 2 That is, of Germany, Holland, and England against France, 
 by treaty of September 7, 1701. 
 
 8 " How are thy servants blest, O Lord ! " See page 122. 
 
 4 Pope published this in 1711, two years after writing it. 
 
 5 Macaulay's praise is not high, because the years 1700-1710 
 
130 MAC A UL AY. 
 
 But, whatever be the literary merits or defects of 
 the "Epistle," it undoubtedly does honor to the prin- 
 ciples and spirit of the author. Halifax had now 
 nothing to give. He had fallen from power, had 
 been held up to obloquy, had been impeached by the 
 House of Commons, and, though his peers had dis- 
 missed the impeachment, had, as it seemed, little 
 chance of ever again filling high office. The "Epis- 
 tle," written at such a time, is one among many 
 proofs that there was no mixture of cowardice or 
 meanness in the suavity and moderation which dis- 
 tinguished Addison from all the other public men of 
 those stormy times. 
 
 At Geneva the traveler learned that a partial 
 change of ministry had taken place in England, and 
 that the Earl of Manchester had become secretary of 
 state. Manchester exerted himself to serve his young 
 friend. It was thought advisable that an English 
 agent should be near the person of Eugene in Italy; 
 and Addison, whose diplomatic education was now 
 finished, was the man selected. He was preparing to 
 enter on his honorable functions when all his pros- 
 pects were for a time darkened by the death of Wil- 
 liam III. 1 
 
 Anne had long felt a strong aversion — personal, 
 political, and religious — to the Whig party. That 
 aversion appeared in the first measures of her reign. 
 Manchester was deprived of the seals after he had held 
 them only a few weeks. Neither Somers nor Halifax 
 
 were barren of good poetry. Gay had not yet published, and 
 Ambrose Philips's pastorals were of little moment. Addison's 
 lines might have added to Prior's contemporary reputation, but 
 then Prior is not now celebrated for his heroic verse, but for 
 his vers de societe, some of which were published in 1707. 
 1 March 8, 1701. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 131 
 
 was sworn of the Privy Council. Addison shared the 
 fate of his three patrons. His hopes of employment 
 in the public service were at an end; his pension was 
 stopped; and it was necessary for him to support 
 himself by his own exertions. He became tutor to 
 a young' English traveler, and appears to have ram- 
 bled with his pupil over great part of Switzerland 
 and Germany. At this time he wrote his pleasing- 
 treatise on medals. It was not published till after 
 his death, but several distinguished scholars saw the 
 manuscript, and gave just praise to the grace of the 
 style and to the learning and ingenuity evinced by 
 the quotations. 
 
 From Germany, Addison repaired to Holland, 
 where he learned the melancholy news of his father's 
 death. After passing some months in the United 
 Provinces, he returned, about the close of the year 
 1703, to England. He was there cordially received 
 by his friends, and introduced by them into the Kit 
 Cat Club, a society in which were collected all the 
 various talents and accomplishments which then gave 
 lustre to the Whig party. 
 
 Addison was, during some months after his return 
 from the Continent, hard pressed by pecuniary diffi- 
 culties; but it was soon in the power of his noble 
 patrons to serve him effectually. A political change 
 — silent and gradual, but of the highest importance — 
 was in daily progress. The accession of Anne had 
 been hailed by the Tories with transports of joy and 
 hope, and for a time it seemed that the Whigs had 
 fallen never to rise again. The throne was sur- 
 rounded by men supposed to be attached to the pre- 
 rogative and to the Church; and among these none 
 stood so high in the favor of the sovereign as the 
 
182 MACAULAY. 
 
 Lord Treasurer Godolphin * and the Captain-General 
 Marlborough. 
 
 The country gentlemen and country clergymen had 
 fully expected that the policy of these ministers would 
 be directly opposed to that which had been almost 
 constantly followed by William ; that the landed in- 
 terest would be favored at the expense of trade ; that 
 no addition would be made to the funded debt; that 
 the privileges conceded to Dissenters by the late king 
 would be curtailed, if not withdrawn; that the war 
 with France, if there must be such a war, would, on 
 our part, be almost entirely naval; and that the gov- 
 ernment would avoid close connections with foreign 
 powers, and, above all, with Holland. 
 
 But the country gentlemen and country clergymen 
 were fated to be deceived, not for the last time. The 
 prejudices and passions which raged without control 
 in vicarages, in cathedral closes, and in the manor 
 houses of fox-hunting squires, were not shared by the 
 chiefs of the ministry. Those statesmen saw that it 
 was both for the public interest and for their own 
 interest to adopt a Whig policy, at least as respected 
 the alliances of the country and the conduct of the 
 war. But, if the foreign policy of the Whigs were 
 adopted, it was impossible to abstain from adopting, 
 also, their financial policy. The natural consequences 
 followed. The rigid Tories were alienated from the 
 government. ■ The votes of the Whigs became neces- 
 sary to it. The votes of the Whigs could be secured 
 only by further concessions, and further concessions 
 the Queen was induced to make. 
 
 1 Sidney, Earl of Godolphin (1635-1712), Queen Anne's 
 Lord Treasurer, noted for his sagacity and administrative ca- 
 pacity. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 133 
 
 At the beginning' of the year 1704, the state of 
 parties bore a close analogy to the state of parties in 
 182G. In 1826, as in 1704, there was a Tory ministry 
 divided into two hostile sections. The position of Mr. 
 Canning * and his friends in 1826 corresponded to that 
 which Marlborough and Godolphin occupied in 1704. 
 Nottingham and Jersey 2 were, in 1704, what Lord 
 Eldon and Lord Westmoreland 3 were in 1826. The 
 Whigs of 1704 were in a situation resembling that in 
 which the Whigs of 1826 stood. In 1704 Somers, 
 Halifax, Sunderland, 4 Cowper, 5 were not in office. 
 There was no avowed coalition between them and the 
 moderate Tories. It is probable that no direct com- 
 munication tending to such a coalition had yet taken 
 place ; yet all men saw that such a coalition was inev- 
 itable, nay, that it was already half formed. Such, 
 or nearly such, was the state of things when tidings 
 arrived of the great battle fought at Blenheim on the 
 13th of August, 1704. By the Whigs the news was 
 
 1 George Canning (1770-1827), a statesman and orator prom- 
 inent daring and after the wars with Napoleon. He favored 
 Catholic emancipation, freer trade, etc., and was opposed hy 
 the Duke of Wellington, Lord Eldon, and Mr. (afterwards Sir 
 Robert) Peel. 
 
 2 Daniel Finch, second Earl of Nottingham (1647-1730), 
 Secretary of State under William III. and Anne; and Edward 
 Villiers, Earl of Jersey (1656-1711), Secretary of State, and 
 prominent diplomat. 
 
 3 John Scott, Earl of Eldon (1751-1838), the great Lord 
 Chancellor ; John Fane, Earl of Westmoreland (1759-1841), 
 who held the office of Lord Privy Seal for many years. 
 
 4 Charles Spencer, third Earl of Sunderland (1674-1722), 
 Marlborough's son-in-law and a prominent politician. 
 
 3 WUliam, Earl Cowper (1664-1723), Lord Chancellor in 
 1707. 
 
134 M AC AULA Y. 
 
 hailed with transports of joy and pride. No fault, 
 no cause of quarrel, could be remembered by them 
 against the commander whose genius had in one day 
 changed the face of Europe, saved the imperial 
 throne, 1 humbled the house of Bourbon, and secured 
 the Act of Settlement 2 against foreign hostility. The 
 feeling of the Tories was very different. They could 
 not, indeed, without imprudence, openly express re- 
 gret at an event so glorious to their country; but 
 their congratulations were so cold and sullen as to 
 give deep disgust to the victorious general and his 
 friends. 
 
 Godolphinwas not a reading man. Whatever time 
 he could spare from business he was in the habit of 
 spending at Newmarket 3 or at the card table. But 
 he was not absolutely indifferent to poetry, and he 
 was too intelligent an observer not to perceive that 
 literature was a formidable engine of political war- 
 fare, and that the great Whig leaders had strength- 
 ened their party, and raised their character, by ex- 
 tending a liberal and judicious patronage to good 
 writers. Pie was mortified, and not without reason, 
 by the exceeding badness of the poems which appeared 
 in honor of the battle of Blenheim. One of these 
 poems has been rescued from oblivion by the exqui- 
 site absurdity of three lines : — 
 
 1 That is, of the Holy Roman Empire, occupied by the House 
 of Hapsburg, represented by Joseph I. 
 
 2 The great Act of 1701, fixing the succession of the Throne, 
 in default of heirs to William and Anne, in Sophia, Electress 
 of Hanover, and her heirs. Sophia was the granddaughter of 
 James I. 
 
 3 A racing centre noted from the time of James I. See 
 Macaulay's History (index). 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 135 
 
 " Think of two thousand gentlemen at least, 
 And each man mounted on his capering heast ; 
 Into the Danube they were pushed by shoals." l 
 
 Where to procure better verses the treasurer did 
 not know. He understood how to negotiate a loan 
 or remit a subsidy; he was also well versed in the 
 history of running-horses and fighting-cocks ; but his 
 acquaintance among the poets was very small. He 
 consulted Halifax, but Halifax affected to decline the 
 office of adviser. He had, he said, done his best, 
 when he had power, to encourage men whose abilities 
 and acquirements might do honor to their country. 
 Those times were over. Other maxims had prevailed. 
 Merit was suffered to pine in obscurity, and the 
 public money was squandered on the undeserving. 
 "I do know," he added, "a gentleman who would 
 celebrate the battle in a manner worthy of the sub- 
 ject, but I will not name him." Godolphin, who 
 was expert at the soft answer which turneth away 
 wrath, and who was under the necessity of paying 
 court to the Whigs, gently replied that there was too 
 much ground for Halifax's complaints, but that what 
 was amiss should in time be rectified, and that in the 
 mean time the services of a man such as Halifax had 
 described should be liberally rewarded. Halifax then 
 mentioned Addison, but, mindful of the dignity, as well 
 as of the pecuniary interest, of his friend, insisted 
 that the minister should apply in the most courteous 
 manner to Addison himself, and this Godolphin prom- 
 ised to do. 
 
 Addison then occupied a garret up three pair of 
 
 1 This quotation has escaped the search of the editor, and of 
 several scholars, and, what is more curious, escaped the commen- 
 tators on Martinus Scriblerus. 
 
136 MA CAUL AY. 
 
 stairs, over a small shop in the Haymarket. In this 
 humble lodging he was surprised, on the morning 
 which followed the conversation between Godolphin 
 and Halifax, by a visit from no less a person than 
 the Right Hon. Henry Boyle, then chancellor of the 
 exchequer, and afterwards Lord Carleton. 1 This high- 
 born minister had been sent by the lord treasurer 
 as ambassador to the needy poet. Addison readily 
 undertook the proposed task, — a task which, to so 
 good a Whig, was probably a pleasure. When the 
 poem was little more than half finished, he showed 
 it to Godolphin, who was delighted with it, and par- 
 ticularly with the famous similitude of the angel. 2 
 Addison was instantly appointed to a commissioner- 
 ship 3 worth about two hundred pounds a year, and 
 was assured that this appointment was only an ear- 
 nest of greater favors. 
 
 "The Campaign" came forth, and was as much 
 admired by the public as by the minister. It pleases 
 us less, on the whole, than the "Epistle" to Hali- 
 fax; yet it undoubtedly ranks high among the poems 
 which appeared during the interval between the death 
 of Dryden and the dawn of Pope's genius. The chief 
 merit of "The Campaign," we think, is that which 
 was noticed by Johnson, — the manly and rational 
 
 1 Also Secretary of State under Anne. The third volume of 
 The Spectator was dedicated to him. He died in 1725. 
 2 " So when an angel by divine command 
 
 With rising tempests shakes a guilty land, 
 Such as of late o'er pale Britannia past, 
 Calm and serene he drives the furious blast, 
 And, pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform, 
 Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm." 
 8 Of appeals. He succeeded the great philosopher John 
 Locke. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 137 
 
 rejection of fiction. The first great poet whose works 
 have come down to us sang of war long before war 
 became a science or a trade. If, in his time, there 
 was enmity between two little Greek towns, each 
 poured forth its crowd of citizens, ignorant of disci- 
 pline, and armed with implements of labor rudely 
 turned into weapons. On each side appeared con- 
 spicuous a few chiefs, whose wealth had enabled them 
 to procure good armor, horses, and chariots, and 
 whose leisure had enabled them to practice military 
 exercises. One such chief ■ — if he were a man of 
 great strength, agility, and courage — would proba- 
 bly be more formidable than twenty common men; 
 and the force and dexterity with which he flung his 
 spear might have no inconsiderable share in deciding 
 the event of the day. Such were probably the battles 
 with which Homer was familiar. But Homer related 
 the actions of men of a former generation; of men 
 who sprang from the gods, and communed with the 
 gods face to face; of men, one of whom could with 
 ease hurl rocks which two sturdy hinds of a later 
 period would be unable even to lift. He therefore 
 naturally represented their martial exploits as resem- 
 bling in kind, but far surpassing in magnitude, those 
 of the stoutest and most expert combatants of his 
 own age. Achilles clad in celestial armor, drawn by 
 celestial coursers, grasping the spear which none but 
 himself could raise, driving all Troy and Lycia before 
 him, and choking Scamander with dead, was only a 
 magnificent exaggeration of the real hero, who, strong, 
 fearless, accustomed to the use of weapons, guarded 
 by a shield and helmet of the best Sidonian fabric, 
 and whirled along by horses of Thessalian breed, 
 struck down with his own right arm foe after foe. 
 
138 MACAULAY. 
 
 In all rude societies similar notions are found. There 
 are at this day countries where the Lifeguardsman 
 Shaw 1 would be considered as a much greater warrior 
 than the Duke of Wellington. Bonaparte loved to 
 describe the astonishment with which the Mamelukes 2 
 looked at his diminutive figure. Mourad Bey, 3 dis- 
 tinguished above all his fellows by his bodily strength, 
 and by the skill with which he managed his horse 
 and his sabre, could not believe that a man who was 
 scarcely five feet high, and rode like a butcher, could 
 be the greatest soldier in Europe. 
 
 Homer's descriptions of war had, therefore, as 
 much truth as poetry requires. But truth was alto- 
 gether wanting to the performances of those who, 
 writing about battles which had scarcely anything in 
 common with the battles of his times, servilely imi- 
 tated his manner. The folly of Silius Italicus, 4 in 
 particular, is positively nauseous. He undertook to 
 record in verse the vicissitudes of a great struggle 
 between generals of the first order; and his narrative 
 is made up of the hideous wounds which these gener- 
 als inflicted with their own hands. Asdrubal flings 
 
 1 "Jack" Shaw (1789-1815). A famous pugilist who after- 
 wards wou further distinction by his bravery at the battle of 
 Waterloo. He killed ten French cuirassiers before falling- him- 
 self. 
 
 2 The Mamelukes were a powerful body of soldiers, originally 
 slaves, who ruled Egypt through a sultan of their choosing 
 from 1254 to 1517, when their kingdom was overthrown by 
 Selim I. Mameluke beys were left in command, however, and 
 from 1750 to 1811 the power of Turkey was merely nominal. 
 Iu the latter year they were massacred by Mohammed Ali. 
 
 3 A Mameluke chieftain who resisted Napoleon. Died in 
 1801. 
 
 4 See page 101, note 2. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 139 
 
 a spear which grazes the shoulder of the consul Nero, 
 but Nero sends his spear into Asdrubal's side. Fa- 
 bius slays Thuris and Butes, and Maris and Arses, 
 and the long-haired Adherbes, and the gigantic Thy- 
 lis, and Sapharus and Montesus, and the trumpeter 
 Morinus. Hannibal runs Perusinus through the groin 
 with a stake, and breaks the backbone of Telesinus 
 with a huge stone. 1 This detestable fashion was 
 copied in modern times, and continued to prevail 
 down to the age of Addison. Several versifiers had 
 described William turning thousands to flight by his 
 single prowess, and dyeing the Boyne with Irish 
 blood. Nay, so estimable a writer as John Philips, 2 
 the author of "The Splendid Shilling," represented 
 Marlborough as having won the battle of Blenheim 
 merely by strength of muscle and skill in fence. The 
 following lines may serve as an example : — 
 
 " Churchill, viewing where 
 The violence of Tallard 3 most prevailed, 
 Came to oppose his slaughtering arm. With speed 
 Precipitate he rode, urging his way 
 O'er hills of gasping heroes, and fallen steeds 
 Rolling in death. Destruction, grim with blood, 
 Attends his furious course. Around his head 
 The glowing balls play innocent, while he 
 With dire impetuous sway deals fatal blows 
 Among the flying Gauls. In Gallic blood 
 He dyes his reeking sword, and strews the ground 
 With headless ranks. What can they do ? Or how 
 Withstand his wide destroying sword ? " 
 
 1 All these incidents are taken from Silius's poem on the 
 Punic War. 
 
 2 (1676-1708.) His poem named was a humorous imitation 
 of Miltonic blank-verse. The verses on Blenheim can be found 
 in Chalmers's collection. 
 
 3 Camille de Tallard (1652-1728), the French marshal who 
 commanded at Blenheim. 
 
140 MACAULAY. 
 
 Addison, with excellent sense and taste, departed 
 from this ridiculous fashion. He reserved his praise 
 for the qualities which made Marlborough truly great, 
 — energy, sagacity, military science; but, above all, 
 the poet extolled the firmness of that mind which, in 
 the midst of confusion, uproar, and slaughter, exam- 
 ined and disposed everything with the serene wisdom 
 of a higher intelligence. 
 
 Here it was that he introduced the famous compari- 
 son of Marlborough to an angel guiding the whirl- 
 wind. We will not dispute the general justice of 
 Johnson's remarks on this passage. But we must 
 point out one circumstance which appears to have 
 escaped all the critics. The extraordinary effect 
 which this simile produced when it first appeared, 
 and which to the following generation seemed inex- 
 plicable, is doubtless to be chiefly attributed to a 
 line which most readers now regard as a feeble paren- 
 thesis: — 
 
 " Such as, of late, o'er pale Britannia pass'cl." 
 
 Addison spoke, not of a storm, but of the storm. 
 The great tempest of November, 1703, * — the only 
 tempest which in our latitude has equaled the rage of 
 a tropical hurricane, — had left a dreadful recollection 
 in the minds of all men. No other tempest was ever, 
 in this country, the occasion of a parliamentary ad- 
 dress or of a public fast. Whole fleets had been cast 
 away. Large mansions had been blown down. One 
 prelate had been buried beneath the ruins of his pal- 
 ace. 2 London and Bristol had presented the appear- 
 ance of cities just sacked. Hundreds of families were 
 still in mourning. The prostrate trunks of large 
 
 1 Nov. 26-Dec. 1. 
 
 2 The Bishop of Bath and Wells, Richard Kidder (born 1633). 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 141 
 
 tiers, and the ruins of houses, still attested, in all 
 the southern counties, the fury of the blast. The 
 popularity which the simile of the angel enjoyed 
 among Addison's contemporaries has always seemed 
 to us to be a remarkable instance of the advantage 
 which, in rhetoric and poetry, the particular has over 
 the general. 1 
 
 Soon after "The Campaign," was published Addi- 
 son's narrative of his travels in Italy. The first 
 effect produced by this narrative was disappointment. 
 The crowd of readers, who expected politics and scan- 
 dal, speculations on the projects of Victor Amadeus, 2 
 and anecdotes about the jollities of convents and the 
 amours of cardinals and nuns, were confounded by 
 finding that the writer's mind was much more occu- 
 pied by the war between the Trojans and Rutulians 3 
 than by the war between France and Austria ; and that 
 he seemed to have heard no scandal of later date than 
 the gallantries of the Empress Faustina. 4 In time, 
 however, the judgment of the many was overruled by 
 that of the few ; and before the book was reprinted it 
 was so eagerly sought that it sold for five times the 
 original price. It is still read with pleasure. The 
 style is pure and flowing; the classical quotations and 
 allusions are numerous and happy ; and we are now 
 and then charmed by that singularly humane and 
 
 1 See in the essay on Milton the comparison of Milton and 
 Dante. 
 
 2 See page 128, note 4. 
 
 3 An aboriginal people who under Turnns disputed Italy with 
 the Trojans under iEneas. See the JEneid. 
 
 4 Faustina may refer either to the wife of the Emperor Anto- 
 ninus Pius or to her daughter, the wife of Marcus Aurelius ; 
 both were accused of shameless profligacy, with how much truth 
 it is hard to determine. 
 
142 MACAULAY. 
 
 delicate humor iu which Addison excelled all men. 
 Yet this agreeable work, even when considered merely 
 as the history of a literary tour, may justly be cen- 
 sured on account of its faults of omission. We have 
 already said that, though rich in extracts from the 
 Latin poets, it contains scarcely any references to the 
 Latin orators and historians. We must add that it 
 contains little, or rather no information respecting 
 the history and literature of modern Italy. To the 
 best of our remembrance, Addison does not mention 
 Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio, Boiardo, Berni, Lorenzo 
 de' Medici, or Machiavelli. 1 He coldly tells us that 
 at Ferrara he saw the tomb of Ariosto, and that at 
 Venice he heard the gondoliers sing verses of Tasso. 
 But for Tasso and Ariosto he cared far less than 
 for Valerius Flaccus and Sidonius Apollinaris. 2 The 
 gentle flow of the Ticin 3 brings a line of Silius 4 to 
 
 1 Maeaulay here gives a list of the chief writers of Italy be- 
 tween the time of the author of the Divine Comedy (1265-1321) 
 and the age of the Medici at Florence. Petrarch (1301-1374) 
 and Boccaccio (1313-1375) are well known. Count Boiardo 
 (1431-1492) wrote the Orlando Innamorato, and Francesco Berni 
 (born about 1490) remodeled this poem and wrote sonnets and 
 Latin verses in a style greatly admired. Lorenzo the Magnifi- 
 cent (1448-1492) was the most illustrious of his family, and was 
 a poet as well as a statesman ; Nicolo Machiavelli (1469-1527) 
 was a great historian and publicist whose name is associated, 
 perhaps unjustly, with unprincipled statesmanship. For all 
 these see at least Hallman and Sismondi, and read Macaulay's 
 essays on Milton and Machiavelli, Dante, and Petrarch. 
 
 2 Obscure Roman poets ; the first wrote an unfinished poem on 
 the Argonauts about the time of Vespasian (first century, a. d.), 
 the second was a Christian writer of the fifth century who left 
 some letters and panegyrical poems. 
 
 3 The Ticino (Ticinus), a river of Northern Italy famous for 
 one of Hannibal's battles. 
 
 4 See page 101, note 2. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON 143 
 
 his mind. The sulphurous steam of Albula suggests 
 to him several passages of Martial. 1 But he has not 
 a word to say of the illustrious dead of Santa Croce ; 2 
 he crosses the wood of Ravenna without recollecting 
 the Spectre Huntsman, 3 and wanders up and down 
 Rimini without one thought of Francesca. 4 At Paris 
 he had eagerly sought an introduction to Boileau ; but 
 he seems not to have been at all aware that at Flor- 
 ence he was in the vicinity of a poet with whom 
 Boileau could not sustain a comparison, — of the great- 
 est lyric poet of modern times, Vincenzio Filicaja. 5 
 This is the more remarkable because Filicaja was 
 the favorite poet of the accomplished Somers, under 
 whose protection Addison traveled, and to whom the 
 account of the travels is dedicated. The truth is, 
 that Addison knew little, and cared less, about the 
 literature of modern Italy. His favorite models were 
 Latin. His favorite critics were French. Half the 
 Tuscan poetry that he had read seemed to him mon- 
 strous, and the other half tawdry. 
 
 His travels were followed by the lively opera of 
 "Rosamond." This piece was ill set to music, and 
 therefore failed on the stage ; but it completely suc- 
 ceeded in print, and is indeed excellent in its kind. 
 The smoothness with which the verses glide, and the 
 elasticity with which they bound, is, to our ears at 
 
 1 Marcus Valerius Martialis (died about A. r>. 104, at the age 
 of seventy-five), the famous epigrammatist. 
 - The Westminster Abbey of Florence. 
 
 3 See Boccaccio's Decameron, Day 5, Nov. 8. The huntsman 
 was a knight who had killed himself for love of a cruel lady, 
 whom afterwards he pursued with hounds. 
 
 4 See Dante's Inferno (end of canto v.) for the episode of 
 Francesca da Rimini, one of the most pathetic in all literature. 
 
 6 See the essay on Milton, page 43, text and note 3. 
 
144 MACAULAY. 
 
 least, very pleasing. We are inclined to think that 
 if Addison had left heroic couplets to Pope and 
 blank verse to Eowe, 1 and had employed himself in 
 writing airy and spirited songs, his reputation as a 
 poet would have stood far higher than it now does. 
 Some years after his death, " Rosamond " was set to 
 new music by Dr. .Arne, 2 and was performed with 
 complete success. Several passages long retained 
 their popularity, and were daily sung, during the 
 latter part of the reign of George II., at all the 
 harpsichords in England. 3 
 
 While Addison thus amused himself, his prospects 
 and the prospects of his party were constantly becom- 
 ing brighter and brighter. In the spring of 1705, 
 the ministers were freed from the restraint imposed 
 by a House of Commons in which Tories of the most 
 perverse class had the ascendency. The elections 
 were favorable to the Whigs. The coalition which 
 had been tacitly .and gradually formed was now openly 
 avowed. The Great Seal 4 was given to Cowper. 
 Somers and Halifax were sworn of the Council. Hal- 
 ifax was sent in the following year to carry the deco- 
 
 1 Nicholas Rowe (1674-1718), a dramatist now little read, and 
 an early editor of Shakespeare. 
 
 2 Dr. Thomas Augustine Arne (1710-1778). He wrote the 
 music to Rosamond when he was only eighteen. He also fur- 
 nished music for Comus. 
 
 3 Mr. Gosse calls Rosamond a " graceful " opera, but pro- 
 ceeds to remark that " Addison was totally without lyric gift." 
 The latter judgment, however difficult to square with the for- 
 mer, is undoubtedly correct, and should be received in place of 
 Macaulay's praise, which was due rather to his love for Addison 
 than to his better critical faculty. 
 
 4 The great seal is attached to important documents of state 
 and is kept by the Lord Chancellor, or by the Lord Keeper dur- 
 ing a vacancy in the chancellorship. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 145 
 
 rations of the order of the garter to the Electoral 
 Prince of Hanover, 1 and was accompanied on this 
 honorable mission by Addison, who had just been 
 made undersecretary of state. The secretary of state 
 under whom Addison first served was Sir Charles 
 Hedges, 2 a Tory; but Hedges was soon dismissed to 
 make room for the most vehement of Whigs, Charles, 
 Earl of Sunderland. In every department of the 
 state, indeed, the High Churchmen were compelled 
 to give place to their opponents. At the close of 
 1707, the Tories who still remained in office strove to 
 rally, with Harley 3 at their head; but the attempt, 
 though favored by the Queen, — who had always been 
 a Tory at heart, and who had now quarreled with the 
 Duchess of Marlborough, 4 — was unsuccessful. The 
 time.was not yet. The captain-general was at the 
 height of popularity and glory. The Low Church 
 party had a majority in Parliament. The country 
 squires and rectors, though occasionally uttering a 
 savage growl, were for the most part in a state of 
 torpor, which lasted till they were roused into activ- 
 ity, and indeed into madness, by the prosecution of 
 Sacheverell. 5 Harley and his adherents were com- 
 pelled to retire. The victory of the Whigs was com- 
 plete. At the general election of 1708, their strength 
 in the House of Commons became irresistible; and 
 
 1 Afterwards George I. 
 
 2 Died 1714. 
 
 3 Robert Harley (1661-1724), Earl of Oxford. See the essay 
 on Johnson, page 15, note 1. 
 
 4 The notorious Sarah Jennings (1660-1744), whose control 
 over her husband, and, for a time, the queen, is familiar to all 
 students of the period. 
 
 5 See the essay on Johnson, page 16, note 4. The famous Tory 
 preacher had been a college-mate of Addison's. 
 
146 MACAULAY. 
 
 before the end of that year Somers was made lord 
 president of the Council, and Wharton 1 lord lieuten- 
 ant of Ireland. 
 
 Addison sat for Malmesbury 2 in the House of 
 Commons which was elected in 1708, but the House 
 of Commons was not the field for him. The bashful- 
 ness of his nature made his wit and eloquence useless 
 in debate. He once rose, but could not overcome 
 his diffidence, and ever after remained silent. No- 
 body can think it strange that a great writer should 
 fail as a speaker; but many probably will think it 
 strange that Addison's failure as a speaker should 
 have had no unfavorable effect on his success as a 
 politician. In our time, a man of high rank and 
 great fortune might, though speaking very little and 
 very ill, hold a considerable post; but it would now 
 be inconceivable that a mere adventurer — a man 
 who, when out of office, must live by his pen — 
 should in a few years become successively undersecre- 
 tary of state, chief secretary for Ireland, and secre- 
 tary of state, without some oratorical talent. Addi- 
 son, without high birth and with little property, rose 
 to a post which dukes, the heads of the great houses 
 of Talbot, Russell, and Ben thick, 3 have thought it an 
 honor to fill. Without opening his lips in debate, 
 he rose to a post the highest that Chatham or Fox 
 ever reached; and this he did before he had been 
 nine years in Parliament. We must look for the 
 explanation of this seeming miracle to the peculiar 
 
 1 Thomas, Marquis of Wharton (1640-1715), one of the ablest 
 Whigs. 
 
 2 A market town of Wilts, in which county he had been born. 
 
 3 The family names of the Dukes of Shrewsbury, Bedford, and 
 Portland. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 147 
 
 circumstances in which that generation was placed. 
 During the interval which elapsed between the time 
 when the censorship of the press ceased, and the time 
 when parliamentary proceedings began to be freely 
 reported, literary talents were, to a public man, of 
 much more importance, and oratorical talents of much 
 less importance, than in our time. At present, the 
 best way of giving rapid and wide publicity to a fact 
 or an argument is to introduce that fact or argu- 
 ment into a speech made in Parliament. If a politi- 
 cal tract were to appear superior to "The Conduct of 
 the Allies," 1 or to the best numbers of "The Free- 
 holder," the circulation of such a tract would be lan- 
 guid indeed, when compared with the circulation of 
 every remarkable word uttered in the deliberations 
 of the Legislature. A speech made in the House of 
 Commons at four in the morning is on thirty thou- 
 sand tables before ten. A speech made on the Mon- 
 day is read on the Wednesday by multitudes in An- 
 trim and Aberdeenshire. 2 The orator, by the help 
 of the shorthand writer, has to a great extent super- 
 seded the pamphleteer. It was not so in the reign of 
 Anne. The best speech could then produce no effect 
 except on those who heard it. It was only by means 
 of the press that the opinion of the public without 
 doors could be influenced; and the opinion of the 
 public without doors could not but be of the highest 
 importance in a country governed by parliaments, 
 and indeed at that time governed by triennial parlia- 
 ments. The pen was therefore a more formidable 
 
 1 By Dean Swift (1711). 
 
 2 Counties in northern Ireland and Scotland ; i. e., to the far- 
 thest parts of the empire. Note how fond Maeaulay is of the 
 concrete rather than the general statement. 
 
148 MACAULAY. 
 
 political engine than the tongue. Mr. Pitt and Mr. 
 Fox contended only in Parliament. But Walpole 
 and Pulteney, 1 the Pitt and Fox of an earlier period, 
 had not done half of what was necessaly when they 
 sat down amidst the acclamations of the House of 
 Commons. They had still to plead their cause before 
 the country, and this they could do only by means of 
 the press. Their works are now forgotten ; but it is 
 certain that there were in Grub Street 2 few more 
 assiduous scribblers of Thoughts, Letters, Answers, 
 Remarks, than these two great chiefs of parties. 
 Pulteney, when leader of the Opposition, and pos- 
 sessed of thirty thousand a year, edited "The Crafts- 
 man." 3 Walpole, though not a man of literary 
 habits, was the author of at least ten pamphlets, and 
 retouched and corrected many more. These facts 
 sufficiently show of how great importance literary 
 assistance then was to the contending- parties. St. 
 John 4 was certainly, in Anne's reign, the best Tory 
 speaker ; Cowper was probably the best Whig speaker : 
 but it may well be doubted whether St. John did so 
 much for the Tories as Swift, and whether Cowper 
 did so much for the Whigs as Addison. When these 
 things are duly considered, it will not be thought 
 strange that Addison should have climbed higher in 
 
 1 See the essay on Milton, page 11, note 3, and the essay on 
 Johnson, page 16, note 1. 
 
 2 See the essay on Johnson, page 22, note 1. 
 
 3 This paper, which embarrassed Walpole, began on Decem- 
 ber 5, 1726, and ran for a considerable time, filling fourteen 
 volumes in its collected form. 
 
 4 Henry St. John, Viscount Bolingbroke (1678-1751), one of 
 the most noted and least trustworthy politicians of the time, also 
 a writer of once great but now much diminished repute. Pope 
 inscribed to him the Essay on Man. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 149 
 
 the state than any other Englishman has ever, by 
 means merely of literary talents, been able to climb. 
 Swift would in all probability have climbed as high 
 if he had not been encumbered by his cassock and his 
 pudding sleeves. 1 As far as the homage of the great 
 went, Swift had as much of it as if he had been lord 
 treasurer. 
 
 To the influence which Addison derived from his 
 literary talents was added all the influence which 
 arises from character. The world, always ready to 
 think the worst of needy political adventurers, was 
 forced to make one exception. Restlessness, violence, 
 audacity, laxity of principle, are the vices ordinarily 
 attributed to that class of men. But faction itself 
 could not deny that Addison had, through all changes 
 of fortune, been strictly faithful to his early opinions 
 and to his early friends; that his integrity was with- 
 out stain ; that his whole deportment indicated a fine 
 sense of the becoming; that, in the utmost heat of 
 controversy, his zeal was tempered by a regard for 
 truth, humanity, and social decorum ; that no outrage 
 could ever provoke him to retaliation unworthy of 
 a Christian and a gentleman ; and that his only faults 
 were a too sensitive delicacy and a modesty which 
 amounted to bashfulness. 
 
 lie was undoubtedly one of the most popular men 
 of his time; and much of his popularity he owed, we 
 believe, to that very timidity which his friends la- 
 mented. That timidity often prevented him from 
 exhibiting his talents to the best advantage, but it 
 propitiated Nemesis. It averted that envy which 
 would otherwise have been excited by fame so splen- 
 
 1 " Pudding sleeves " refers to the full sleeves of the black 
 gowns worn by the clergy. 
 
150 MACAU LAY. 
 
 did, and by so rapid an elevation. No man is so 
 great a favorite with the public as he who is at once 
 an object of admiration, of respect, and of pity; and 
 such were the feelings which Addison inspired. 
 Those who enjoyed the privilege of hearing his famil- 
 iar conversation declared with one voice that it was 
 superior even to his writings. The brilliant Mary 
 Montagu 1 said that she had known all the wits, and 
 that Addison was the best company in the world. 
 The malignant Pope was forced to own that there 
 was a charm in Addison's talk which could be found 
 nowhere else. Swift, when burning with animosity 
 against the Whigs, could not but confess to Stella 2 
 that, after all, he had never known any associate 
 so agreeable as Addison. Steele, an excellent judge 
 of lively conversation, said that the conversation of 
 Addison was at once the most polite and the most 
 mirthful that could be imagined; that it was Ter- 
 ence and Catullus in one, heightened by an exquisite 
 something which was neither Terence nor Catullus, 
 but Addison alone. Young, an excellent judge of 
 serious conversation, said that when Addison was at 
 his ease he went on in a noble strain of thought and 
 language, so as to chain the attention of every hearer. 
 Nor were Addison's great colloquial powers more 
 admirable than the courtesy and softness of heart 
 which appeared in his conversation. At the same 
 time, it would be too much to say that he was wholly 
 devoid of the malice which is, perhaps, inseparable 
 from a keen sense of the ludicrous. He had one 
 
 1 See page 201; also the essay on Johnson, page 31, note 2. 
 
 2 Swift's name for Miss Esther Johnson (1681-1728), with 
 whom he corresponded for a long while and whom he finally 
 married. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 151 
 
 habit which both Swift and Stella applauded, and 
 which we hardly know how to blame. If his first 
 attempts to set a presuming dunce right were ill re- 
 ceived, he changed his tone, "assented with civil 
 leer," 1 and lured the flattered coxcomb deeper and 
 deeper into absurdity. That such was his practice we 
 should, we think, have guessed from his works. "The 
 Tatler's "criticisms on Mr. Softly 's sonnet, and "The 
 Spectator's" dialogue with the politician who is so 
 zealous for the honor of Lady Q — p — t — s, are excel- 
 lent specimens of this innocent mischief. 
 
 Such were Addison's talents for conversation. But 
 his rare gifts were not exhibited to crowds or to 
 strangers. As soon as he entered a large company, 
 as soon as he saw an unknown face, his lips were 
 sealed, and his manners became constrained. None 
 who met him only in great assemblies would have 
 been able to believe that he was the same man who 
 had often kept a few friends listening and laughing 
 round a table from the time when the play ended till 
 the clock of St. Paul's in Covent Garden struck four. 
 Yet, even at such a table, he was not seen to the best 
 advantage. To enjoy his conversation in the highest 
 perfection, it was necessary to be alone with him, 
 and to hear him, in his own phrase, think aloud. 
 "There is no such thing," he used to say, "as real 
 conversation but between two persons." 
 
 This timidity — a timidity surely neither ungrace- 
 ful nor unamiable — led Addison into the two most 
 serious faults which can with justice be imputed to 
 him. He found that wine broke the spell which lay 
 on his fine intellect, and was therefore too easily se- 
 duced into convivial excess. Such excess was in that 
 1 From Pope's lines on Addison quoted later. 
 
152 M AC AULA Y. 
 
 age regarded, even by grave men, as the most venial 
 of all peccadillos, and was so far from being a mark 
 of ill-breeding that it was almost essential to the char- 
 acter of a fine gentleman. But the smallest speck is 
 seen on a white ground, and almost all the biographers 
 of Addison have said something about this failing. 
 Of any other statesman or writer of Queen Anne's 
 reign, we should no more think of saying that he 
 sometimes took too much wine than that he wore a 
 long wig and a sword. 
 
 To the excessive modesty of Addison's nature we 
 must ascribe another fault, which generally arises 
 from a very different cause. He became a little too 
 fond of seeing himself surrounded by a small circle of 
 admirers to whom he was as a king, or rather as a 
 god. All these men were far inferior to him in abil- 
 ity, and some of them had very serious faults. Nor 
 did those faults escape his observation; for, if ever 
 there was an eye which saw through and through 
 men, it was the eye of Addison. But, with the keen- 
 est observation and the finest sense of the ridiculous, 
 he had a large charity. The feeling with which he 
 looked on most of his humble companions was one of 
 benevolence, slightly tinctured with contempt. He 
 was at perfect ease in their company ; he was grateful 
 for their devoted attachment; and he loaded them 
 with benefits. Their veneration for him appears to 
 have exceeded that with which Johnson was regarded 
 by Boswell, 1 or Warburton by Hurd. 2 It was not in 
 
 1 James Boswell (1740-1795). See Macaulay's essays on 
 Johnson and on Eoswell's Life of Johnson. 
 
 2 Richard Hard (1720-1808) was a friend and disciple of 
 Warhnrton (see the essay on Johnson, page 22, note 3), who was 
 something of a scholar, became Bishop of Worcester, and de- 
 clined to be Archbishop of Canterbury. He edited Addison. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 153 
 
 the power of adulation to turn such a head, or de- 
 prave such a heart, as Addison's; but it must in can- 
 dor be admitted that he contracted some of the faults 
 which can scarcely be avoided by any person who is 
 so unfortunate as to be the oracle of a small literary 
 coterie. 
 
 One member of this little society was Eustace 
 Budgell, 1 a young templar of some literature, 2 and 
 a distant relation of Addison. There was at this 
 time no stain on the character of Budgell; and it 
 is not improbable that his career would have been 
 prosperous and honorable if the life of his cousin had 
 been prolonged. But when the master was laid in 
 the grave, the disciple broke loose from all restraint, 
 descended rapidly from one degree of vice and misery 
 to another, ruined his fortune by follies, attempted 
 to repair it by crimes, and at length closed a wicked 
 and unhappy life by self-murder. Yet, to the last, 
 the wretched man — gambler, lampooner, cheat, 
 forger, as he was — retained his affection and venera- 
 tion for Addison, and recorded those feelings in the 
 last lines which he traced before he hid himself from 
 infamy under London Bridge. 
 
 Another of Addison's favorite companions was Am- 
 brose Philips, a good Whig and a middling poet, 
 who had the honor of bringing into fashion a species 
 of composition which has been called, after his name, 
 Namby Pamby. But the most remarkable members 
 of the little senate, as Pope long afterwards called it, 
 were Richard Steele and Thomas Tickell. 3 
 
 1 1685-1 73G. 
 
 2 That is, a lawyer of some literary attainments. 
 
 3 1686-1740. He edited Addison and wrote an elegy on his 
 death which is noticed farther on. The rest of his poetry is 
 worth little. 
 
154 MACAULAY. 
 
 Steele had known Addison from childhood. They 
 had been together at the Charter House and at Ox- 
 ford; but circumstances had then, for a time, sepa- 
 rated them widely. Steele had left college without 
 taking a degree, had been disinherited by a rich rela- 
 tion, had led a vagrant life, had served in the army, 
 had tried to find the philosopher's stone, and had 
 written a religious treatise and several comedies. He 
 was one of those people whom it is impossible either 
 to hate or to respect. His temper was sweet, his 
 affections warm, his spirits lively, his passions strong, 
 and his principles weak. His life was spent in sin- 
 ning and repenting; in inculcating what was right, 
 and doing what was wrong. In speculation he was 
 a man of piety and honor; in practice he was much 
 of the rake and a little of the swindler. He was, 
 however, so good-natured that it was not easy to be 
 seriously angry with him, and that even rigid moral- 
 ists felt more inclined to pity than to blame him 
 when he diced himself into a sponging-house or drank 
 himself into a fever. Addison regarded Steele with 
 kindness not unmingled with scorn; tried, with little 
 success, to keep him out of scrapes; introduced him 
 to the great ; procured a good place for him ; corrected 
 his plays; and, though by no means rich, lent him 
 large sums of money. One of these loans appears, 
 from a letter dated in August, 1708, to have amounted 
 to a thousand pounds. These pecuniary transactions 
 probably led to frequent bickerings. It is said that, 
 on one occasion, Steele's negligence or dishonesty 
 provoked Addison to repay himself by the help of a 
 bailiff. We cannot join with Miss Aikin in reject- 
 ing this story. Johnson heard it from Savage, 1 who 
 
 1 For this minor poet, see the essay on Johnson, page 58, text 
 and note. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 155 
 
 Heard it from Steele. Few private transactions which 
 took place a hundred, and twenty years ago are proved 
 by stronger evidence than this. 1 But we can by no 
 means agree with those who condemn Addison's se- 
 verity. The most amiable of mankind may well be 
 moved to indignation when what he has earned hardly, 
 and lent with great inconvenience to himself, for the 
 purpose of relieving a friend in distress, is squandered 
 with insane profusion. We will illustrate our mean- 
 ing by an example which is not the less striking be- 
 cause it is taken from fiction. Dr. Harrison, in 
 Fielding's 2 "Amelia," is represented as the most be- 
 nevolent of human beings; yet he takes in execu- 
 tion, not only the goods, but the person, of his friend 
 Booth. Dr. Harrison resorts to this strong measure 
 because he has been informed that Booth, while plead- 
 ing poverty as an excuse for not paying just debts, 
 has been buying fine jewelry and setting up a coach. 
 No person who is well acquainted with Steele's life 
 and correspondence can doubt that he behaved quite 
 as ill to Addison as Booth was accused of behaving to 
 Dr. Harrison. The real history, we have little doubt, 
 was something like this: a letter comes to Addison, 
 imploring help in pathetic terms, and promising re- 
 formation and speedy repayment. Poor Dick declares 
 that he has not an inch of candle, or a bushel of coals, 
 or credit with the butcher for a shoulder of mutton. 
 Addison is moved. He determines to deny himself 
 some medals which are wanting to his series of the 
 Twelve Caesars, 3 to put off buying the new edition 
 
 1 This whole story is involved in much doubt. 
 
 2 Henry Fielding (1707-1754), author of Tom Jones. See 
 the essay on Johnson, page 12, note 4. 
 
 '• That is, the Roman emperors, beginning with Caesar and 
 finding with Domitian (9C A. D.). 
 
156 MA CAUL AY. 
 
 of Bayle's * Dictionary, and to we#r his old sword 
 and buckles another year; in this way he manages 
 to send a hundred pounds to his friend. The next 
 day he calls on Steele, and finds scores of gentlemen 
 and ladies assembled. The fiddles are playing. The 
 table is groaning under Champagne, Burgundy, and 
 pyramids of sweetmeats. Is it strange that a man 
 whose kindness is thus abused should send sheriff's 
 officers to reclaim what is due to him? 
 
 Tickell was a young man, fresh from Oxford, who 
 had introduced himself to public notice by writing 
 a most ingenious and graceful little poem in praise 
 of the opera of "Rosamond." He deserved, and at 
 length attained, the first place in Addison's friend- 
 ship. For a time Steele and Tickell were on good 
 terms; but they loved Addison too much to love each 
 other, and at length became as bitter enemies as the 
 rival bulls in Virgil. 2 
 
 At the close of 1708 Wharton became lord lieuten- 
 ant of Ireland, and appointed Addison chief secre- 
 tary. Addison was consequently under the necessity 
 of quitting London for Dublin. Besides the chief 
 secretaryship, which was then worth about two thou- 
 sand pounds a year, he obtained a patent appointing 
 him keeper of the Irish Records for life, with a salary 
 of three or four hundred a year. Budgell accompa- 
 nied his cousin in the capacity of private secretary. 
 
 Wharton and Addison had nothing in common but 
 Whiggism. The lord lieutenant was not only licen- 
 
 1 Pierre Bayle (1647-1706), a celebrated French critic and 
 freethinker, best known for his Critical and Historical Diction- 
 ary, which is hardly a dictionary at all, but a storehouse of mis- 
 cellaneous information. Addison spent much time over it. 
 
 2 Georgics, iii. 220-225. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 157 
 
 tious and corrupt, but was distinguished from other 
 libertines and jobbers by a callous impudence which 
 presented the strongest contrast to the secretary's 
 gentleness and delicacy. Many parts of the Irish 
 administration at this time appear to have deserved 
 serious blame, but against Addison there was not a 
 murmur. He long afterwards asserted, what all the 
 evidence which we have ever seen tends to prove, that 
 his diligence and integrity gained the friendship of all 
 the most considerable persons in Ireland. 
 
 The parliamentary career of Addison in Ireland 
 has, we think, wholly escaped the notice of all his 
 biographers. He was elected member for the borough 
 of Cavan in the summer of 1709, and in the journals 
 of two sessions his name frequently occurs. Some of 
 the entries appear to indicate that he so far overcame 
 his timidity as to make speeches. Nor is this by any 
 means improbable, for the Irish House of Commons 
 was a far less formidable audience than the English 
 House, and many tongues which were tied by fear in 
 the greater assembly became fluent in the smaller. 
 Gerard Hamilton, 1 for example, who, from fear of 
 losing the fame gained by his single speech, sat mute 
 at Westminster during forty years, spoke with great 
 effect at Dublin when he was secretary to Lord Hali- 
 fax. 2 
 
 While Addison was in Ireland, an event occurred 
 to which he owes his high and permanent rank among 
 British writers. As yet his fame rested on perfor- 
 
 i William Gerard Hamilton (1729-1796), nicknamed " Single- 
 Speech Hamilton," on account of his brilliant speech of Novem- 
 ber 13, 1755, after which he kept silent except for one occasion, 
 although he sat in every Parliament till his death. 
 
 2 George Montagu Dunk, Earl of Halifax (1716-1771), Lord 
 Lieutenant of Ireland in 1761. 
 
158 MAC AULA Y. 
 
 matices which, though highly respectable, were not 
 built for duration, and which would, if he had pro- 
 duced nothing else, have now been almost forgotten, 
 — on some excellent Latin verses, on some English 
 verses which occasionally rose above mediocrity, and 
 on a book of travels, agreeably written, but not in- 
 dicating any extraordinary powers of mind. These 
 works showed him to be a man of taste, sense, and 
 learning. The time had come when he was to prove 
 himself a man of genius, and to enrich our literature 
 with compositions which will live as long as the Eng- 
 lish language. 
 
 In the spring of 1709 Steele formed a literary pro- 
 ject, 1 of which he was far indeed from foreseeing the 
 consequences. Periodical papers had during many 
 years been published in London. Most of these were 
 political; but in some of them questions of morality, 
 taste, and love casuistry had been discussed. The 
 literary merit of these works was small indeed, and 
 even their names are now known only to the curious. 
 
 Steele had been appointed gazetteer 2 by Sunder- 
 land, at the request, it is said, of Addison, and thus 
 had access to foreign intelligence earlier and more 
 authentic than was in those times within the reach of 
 an ordinary news-writer. 3 This circumstance seems 
 to have suggested to him the scheme of publishing a 
 periodical paper on a new plan. It was to appear on 
 the clays on which the post left London for the coun- 
 try, which were, in that generation, the Tuesdays, 
 
 1 The Tatler ran from April 12, 1709, to January 2, 1710-11. 
 
 2 That is, publisher of news authorized by the government. 
 
 3 See, for an account of these men, who furnished news to the 
 remote districts, Macaulay's History, chap, iii., and The Tatler, 
 No. 18. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 159 
 
 Thursdays, and Saturdays. It was to contain the 
 foreign news, accounts of theatrical representations, 
 and the literary gossip of Will's and of the Grecian. 1 
 It was also to contain remarks on the fashionable 
 topics of the day, compliments to beauties, pasqui- 
 nades 2 on noted sharpers, and criticisms on popular 
 preachers. The aim of Steele does not appear to have 
 been at first higher than this. He was not ill-qualified 
 to conduct the work which he had planned. His public 
 intelligence he drew from the best sources. He knew 
 the town, and had paid dear for his knowledge. He 
 had read much more than the dissipated men of that 
 time were in the habit of reading. He was a rake 
 among scholars and a scholar among rakes. His 
 style was easy and not incorrect, and, though his wit 
 and humor were of no high order, his gay animal 
 spirits imparted to his compositions an air of vivacity 
 which ordinary readers could hardly distinguish from 
 comic genius. His writings have been well compared 
 to those light wines which, though deficient in body 
 and flavor, are yet a pleasant small drink if not kept 
 too long or carried too far. 
 
 Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq., astrologer, was an imagi- 
 nary person, almost as well known in that age as 
 Mr. Paul Pry 3 or Mr. Samuel Pickwick in ours. 
 Swift had assumed the name of Bickerstaff in a satiri- 
 cal pamphlet against Partridge, 4 the maker of alma- 
 
 1 Well-known coffee-houses of the period. 
 
 2 That is, lampoons, so called from Pasquino, an Italian cob- 
 bler of caustic wit (fifteenth century). 
 
 3 A character giving' the name to a well-known comedy of 
 John Poole's (about 1840). 
 
 4 John Partridge (died 1715). See Gosse. Swift published 
 his Predictions for the Year 1708 as a joke on Partridge's vague 
 prognostications, and among other things prophesied that Par- 
 
160 MACAULAY. 
 
 nacs. Partridge had been fool enough to publish a 
 furious reply. Biekerstaff had rejoined in a second 
 pamphlet, still more diverting than the first. All the 
 wits had combined to keep up the joke, and the town 
 was long in convulsions of laughter. Steele deter- 
 mined to employ the name which this controversy had 
 made popular; and in 1709 it was announced that 
 Isaac Biekerstaff, Esq., astrologer, was about to pub- 
 lish a paper called "The Tatler." 
 
 Addison had not been consulted aboxit this scheme ; 
 but, as soon as he heard of it, he determined to give 
 his assistance. The effect of that assistance cannot 
 be better described than in Steele's own words. "I 
 fared," he said, "like a distressed prince who calls 
 in a powerful neighbor to his aid. I was undone 
 by my auxiliary. When I had once called him in, I 
 could not subsist without dependence on him." "The 
 paper," he says elsewdiere, "was advanced indeed. 
 It was raised to a greater thing than I intended it." 
 
 It is probable that Addison, when he sent across 
 St. George's Channel his first contributions to "The 
 Tatler," had no notion of the extent and variety of 
 his own powers. He was the possessor of a vast 
 mine, rich with a hundred ores; but he had been 
 acquainted only with the least precious part of his 
 treasures, and had hitherto contented himself with 
 producing sometimes copper and sometimes lead, in- 
 termingled with a little silver. All at once, and by 
 mere accident, he had lighted on an inexhaustible 
 vein of the finest gold. 
 
 tridge would die at eleven o'clock on the night of March 29th. 
 Immediately after this date he issued another pamphlet giving 
 an Account of Partridge's Death. The poor fellow expostulated, 
 but was overwhelmed with replies. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 161 
 
 The mere choice and arrangement of his words 
 would have sufficed to make his essays classical; for 
 never — not even by Dryden, not even by Temple 1 — 
 had the English language been written with such 
 sweetness, grace, and facility. But this was the 
 smallest part of Addison's praise. Had he clothed 
 his thoughts in the half French style of Horace Wal- 
 pole, 2 or in the half Latin style of Dr. Johnson, or 
 in the half German jargon of the present day, 3 his 
 genius would have triumphed over all faults of man- 
 ner. As a moral satirist he stands unrivaled. If 
 ever the best "Tatlers" and "Spectators" were 
 equaled in their own kind, we should be inclined to 
 guess that it must have been by the lost comedies of 
 Menander. 4 
 
 In wit, properly so called, Addison was not inferior 
 to Cowley 5 or Butler. No single ode of Cowley 
 contains so many happy analogies as are crowded 
 into the lines to Sir Godfrey Kneller; 7 and we would 
 undertake to collect from the "Spectators" as great a 
 number of ingenious illustrations as can be found 
 in "Hudibras." The still higher faculty of inven- 
 
 1 Sir William Temple (1628-1609), a well-known diplomatist 
 and essayist, noted for his style. See Macanlay's essay on him. 
 
 2 Earl of Orford (1717-1797), son of Sir Robert, famous as a 
 dilettante and for his Letters. 
 
 8 A reference to Carlyle. 
 
 4 The Greek comic poet (342-291 b. c. circa). Only frag- 
 ments of his numerous comedies are extant, but they had a great 
 reputation among the ancients. 
 
 5 See the essay on Milton, page 6, note 3. 
 
 Samuel Butler (1612-1680), the famous author of Hudibras. 
 See Gosse and Ward's English Poets. 
 
 7 The well-known portrait painter (1648-1723). The lines 
 by Addison referred to are felicitous, but not witli the curious, 
 unexpected felicity of Cowley at his best. 
 
162 MAC AULA Y. 
 
 tion Addison possessed in still larger measure. The 
 numerous fictions, generally original, often wild and 
 grotesque, but always singularly graceful and happy, 
 which are found in his essays, fully entitle him to 
 the rank of a great poet, — a rank to which his metri- 
 cal compositions give him no claim. As an observer 
 of life, of manners, of all the shades of human char- 
 acter, he stands in the first class; and what he ob- 
 served he had the art of communicating in two widely 
 different ways. He could describe virtues, vices, 
 habits, whims, as well as Clarendon. 1 But he could 
 do something better: he could call human beings into 
 existence, and make them exhibit themselves. If we 
 wish to find anything more vivid than Addison's best 
 portraits, we must go either to Shakespeare or to 
 Cervantes. 
 
 But what shall we say of Addison's humor, of his 
 sense of the ludicrous, of his power of awakening that 
 sense in others, and of drawing mirth from incidents 
 which occur every day, and from little peculiarities 
 of temper and manner such as may be found in every 
 man? We feel the charm; we give ourselves up to 
 it: but we strive in vain to analyze it. 
 
 Perhaps the best way of describing Addison's pecu- 
 liar pleasantry is to compare it with the pleasantry of 
 some other great satirists. The three most eminent 
 masters of the art of ridicule during the eighteenth 
 century were, we conceive, Addison, Swift, and Vol- 
 taire. Which of the three had the greatest power 
 of moving laughter may be questioned; but each of 
 them, within his own domain, was supreme. 
 
 1 Clarendon's History of the Rebellion is noted for its sketches 
 of character. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 163 
 
 Voltaire is the prince of buffoons. His merriment 
 is without disguise or restraint. He gambols ; he 
 grins; he shakes the sides; he points the finger; he 
 turns up the nose; he shoots out the tongue. 1 The 
 manner of Swift is the very opposite to this. He 
 moves laughter, but never joins in it. He appears in 
 his works such as he appeared in society. All the 
 company are convulsed with merriment; while the 
 Dean, the author of all the mirth, preserves an invin- 
 cible gravity and even sourness of aspect, and gives 
 utterance to the most eccentric and ludicrous fan- 
 cies with the air of a man reading the commination 
 service. 2 
 
 The manner of Addison is as remote from that of 
 Swift as from that of Voltaire. He neither laughs 
 out like the French wit, nor, like the Irish wit, 
 throws a double portion of severity into his counte- 
 nance while laughing inwardly, but preserves a look 
 peculiarly his own, — a look of demure serenity, dis- 
 turbed only by an arch sparkle of the eye, an almost 
 imperceptible elevation of the brow, an almost imper- 
 ceptible curl of the lip. His tone is never that either 
 of a Jack Pudding or of a Cynic. 3 It is that of a 
 gentleman in whom the quickest sense of the ridicu- 
 lous is constantly tempered by good-nature and good- 
 breeding. 
 
 We own that the humor of Addison is, in our opin- 
 ion, of more delicious flavor than the humor of either 
 
 1 Probably an example of Macaulay's characteristic exaggera- 
 tion. 
 
 2 A service of the English Church, read on Ash Wednesday, 
 reciting God's anger against sinners. 
 
 3 That is, of a merry-andrew or buffoon, or of a snarling phi- 
 losopher like Diogenes. 
 
164 MACAULAY. 
 
 Swift or Voltaire. Thus much, at least, is certain, 
 that both Swift and Voltaire have been successfully 
 mimicked, and that no man has yet been able to 
 mimic Addison. The letter of the Abbe Coyer 1 to 
 Pansophe is Voltaire all over, and imposed, during a 
 long time, on the Academicians of Paris. There are 
 passages in Arbuthnot's 2 satirical works which we, 
 at least, cannot distinguish from Swift's best wilt- 
 ing. But of the many eminent men who have made 
 Addison their model, though several have copied 
 his mere diction with happy effect, none has been 
 able to catch the tone of his pleasantry. In " The 
 World," in "The Connoisseur," in "The Mirror," in 
 "The Lounger," 3 there are numerous papers written 
 in obvious imitation of his "Tatlers" and "Specta- 
 tors." Most of those papers have some merit; many 
 are very lively and amusing ; but there is not a single 
 one which could be passed off as- Addison's on a critic 
 of the smallest perspicacity. 
 
 But that which chiefly distinguishes Addison from 
 Swift, from Voltaire, from almost all the other great 
 masters of ridicule, is the grace, the nobleness, the 
 
 1 Gabriel Francois Coyer (died in 1782, very old), a Jesuit 
 who resigned from his order and devoted himself to letters. 
 He translated Blackstone, and wrote Bagatelles Morales. 
 
 2 Dr. John Arbuthnot (1G67-1735), the friend of Pope and 
 Swift, and a noted wit. He wrote most, if not all, of the Me- 
 moirs of Martinus Scriblerus, which Sterne's Tristram Shandy 
 has now eclipsed, and a History of John Bull, besides disserta- 
 tions on medals, etc., and some medical works. 
 
 3 Papers in imitation of The Spectator. The World (1753-56) 
 was edited by the poet Edward Moore ; The Connoisseur (1754- 
 50) was edited by George Colman and Bennet Thornton ; The 
 Mirror (1779-80) and The Lounger (1785-87) were Edinburgh 
 journals, to which Henry Mackenzie was the chief contributor. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 165 
 
 moral purity, which we find even in his merriment. 
 Severity, gradually hardening and darkening into 
 misanthropy, characterizes the works of Swift. The 
 nature of Voltaire was, indeed, not inhuman; but he 
 venerated nothing. Neither in the masterpieces of 
 art nor in the purest examples of virtue, neither in 
 the Great First Cause nor in the awful enigma of the 
 grave, could he see anything but subjects for droll- 
 ery. 1 The more solemn and august the theme, the 
 more monkey -like was his grimacing and chattering. 
 The mirth of Swift is the mirth of Mephistopheles ; 2 
 the mirth of Voltaire is the mirth of Puck. 3 If, as 
 Soame Jenyns 4 oddly imagined, a portion of the 
 happiness of seraphim and just men made perfect be 
 derived from an exquisite perception of the ludicrous, 
 their mirth must surely be none other than the mirth 
 of Addison, — a mirth consistent with tender compas- 
 sion for all that is frail, and with profound reverence 
 for all that is sublime. Nothing great, nothing ami- 
 able, no moral duty, no doctrine of natural or re- 
 vealed religion, has ever been associated by Addison 
 with any degrading idea. His humanity is without a 
 parallel in literary history. The highest proof of vir- 
 tue is to possess boundless power without abusing it. 
 No kind of power is more formidable than the power 
 of making men ridiculous, and that power Addison 
 possessed in boundless measure. How grossly that 
 power was abused by Swift and by Voltaire is well 
 known. But of Addison it may be confidently af- 
 firmed that he has blackened no man's character; 
 
 1 This statement is more than questionable. 
 
 2 The cynical demon of Goethe's Faust. 
 
 3 The aerial spirit of A Midsummer Night's Dream, 
 * See the essay on Johnson, page 34, note '_'. 
 
166 MAC A UL AY. 
 
 nay, that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to 
 find in all the volumes which he has left us a single 
 taunt which can be called ungenerous or unkind. 
 Yet he had detractors, whose malignity might have 
 seemed to justify as terrible a revenge as that which 
 men not superior to him in genius wreaked on Bettes- 
 worth 1 and on Franc de Pompignan. 2 He was a 
 politician; he was the best writer of his party; he 
 lived in times of fierce excitement, — in times when 
 persons of high character and station stooped to scur- 
 rility such as is now practiced only by the basest of 
 mankind: yet no provocation and no example could 
 induce him to return railing for railing. 
 
 Of the service which his essays rendered to moral- 
 ity it is difficult to speak too highly. It is true that, 
 when "The Tatler " appeared, that age of outrageous 
 profaneness and licentiousness which followed the 
 Restoration had passed away. Jeremy Collier 3 had 
 shamed the theatres into something which, compared 
 with the excesses of Etherege and Wycherley, 4 might 
 be called decency; yet there still lingered in the pub- 
 lic mind a pernicious notion that there was some con- 
 
 1 A Dublin lawyer satirized by Swift. 
 
 2 Jean Jacques le Franc, Marquis of Pompignan (1709-1784), 
 author of the once famous tragedy of Dido, who on his election 
 to the French Academy in 1760 delivered a discourse defending 
 Christianity, which was satirized by Voltaire and others. 
 
 3 1650-1726. A nonjuring preacher (i. e., one who refused to 
 swear allegiance to William and Mary), who attacked the vices 
 of the stage in a book which Dryden, one of the offending dra- 
 matists, had to admit to be fully founded on facts. 
 
 4 Sir George Etherege (1636-1694) and William Wycherley 
 (1640-1715), noted representatives of the comic drama of the 
 Restoration, which reached its highest point in Congreve. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 167 
 
 nection between genius and profligacy, between the 
 domestic virtues and the sullen formality of the Puri- 
 tans. That error it is the glory of Addison to have 
 dispelled. He taught the nation that the faith and 
 the morality of Hale 1 and Tillotson might be found 
 in company with wit more sparkling than the wit of 
 Congreve, and with humor richer than the humor of 
 Vanbrugh. 2 So effectually, indeed, did he retort on 
 vice the mockery which had recently been directed 
 against virtue, that since his time the open violation 
 of decency has always been considered among us as 
 the mark of a fool. And this revolution, the greatest 
 and most salutary ever effected by any satirist, he 
 accomplished, be it remembered, without writing one 
 personal lampoon. 
 
 /_ In the early contributions of Addison to "The Tat- 
 ler " his peculiar powers were not fully exhibited, yet 
 from the first his superiority to all his coadjutors was 
 evident. Some of his later "Tatlers " are fully equal 
 to anything that he ever wrote. Among the portraits, 
 we most admire Tom Folio, Ned Softly, and the Po- 
 litical Upholsterer. The proceedings of the "Court 
 of Honor," the "Thermometer of Zeal," the story of 
 the "Frozen Words," the "Memoirs of the Shilling," 
 are excellent specimens of that ingenious and lively 
 species of fiction in which Addison excelled all men. 
 There is one still better paper of the same class ; but 
 though that paper, a hundred and thirty-three years 
 
 1 Sir Matthew Hale (1607-1676), the great Chief Justice, as 
 much noted for his probity of character as for his juristic at- 
 tainments. 
 
 2 Sir John Vanbrugh (1666-1726), another of the comic dra- 
 matists of the Restoration, humorous but coarse. 
 
168 MACAULAY. 
 
 ago, was probably thought as edifying as one of Smal- 
 ridge's l sermons, we dare not indicate it to the 
 squeamish readers of the nineteenth century. 
 
 During the session of Parliament which commenced 
 in November, 1709, and which the impeachment of 
 Sacheverell has made memorable, Addison appears to 
 have resided in London. "The Tatler" was now 
 more popular than any periodical paper had ever 
 been, and his connection with it was generally known : 
 it was not known, however, that almost everything 
 good in "The Tatler " was his. The truth is, that the 
 fifty or sixty numbers which we owe to him were not 
 merely the best, but so decidedly the best that any 
 five of them are more valuable than all the two hun- 
 dred numbers in which he had no share. 2 
 
 He required at this time all the solace which he 
 could derive from literary success. The Queen had 
 always disliked the Whigs. She had during some 
 years disliked the Marlborough family : but, reigning 
 by a disputed title, she could not venture directly to 
 oppose herself to a majority of both houses of Parlia- 
 ment ; and, engaged as she was in a war on the event 
 of which her own crown was staked, she could not 
 venture to disgrace a great and successful general. 
 But at length, in the year 1710, the causes which had 
 restrained her from showing her aversion to the Low 
 Church party ceased to operate. The trial of Sachev- 
 erell produced an outbreak of public feeling scarcely 
 less violent than the outbreaks which we can ourselves 
 
 1 George Smalridge, D. D. (1666-1719), noted scholar and 
 divine, died Bishop of Bristol. He is the Favonius of The Tatler, 
 No. 114. 
 
 2 Almost certainly an exaggeration. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 169 
 
 remember in 1820 and in 1831. l The country gentle- 
 men, the country clergymen, the rabble of the towns, 
 were all, for once, on the same side. It was clear 
 that, if a general election took place before the excite- 
 ment abated, the Tories would have a majority. The 
 services of Marlborough had been so splendid that 
 they were no longer necessary. The Queen's throne 
 was secure from all attack on the part of Louis ; in- 
 deed, it seemed much more likely that the English 
 and German armies would divide the spoils of Ver- 
 sailles and Marli 2 than that a marshal of France 
 would bring back the Pretender 3 to St. James's. 4 
 The Queen, acting by the advice of Harley, deter- 
 mined to dismiss her servants. In June the change 
 commenced. Sunderland was the first who fell. The 
 Tories exulted over his fall. The Whigs tried, dur- 
 ing a few weeks, to persuade themselves that her 
 Majesty had acted only from personal dislike to the 
 secretary, and that she meditated no further altera- 
 tion; but, early in August, Godolphin was surprised 
 by a letter from Anne which directed him to break 
 his white staff. 5 Even after this event, the irresolu- 
 tion or dissimulation of Harley kept up the hopes of 
 the Whigs during another month, and then the ruin 
 
 1 In 1820 the Reform agitation, the Cato Street Conspiracy, 
 riots in Scotland, the trial of Queen Caroline. In 1831 the agi- 
 tation over the defeat of the hill for Parliamentary Reform (car- 
 ried in 1832). 
 
 2 Marli was noted for the sumptuous gardens and chateau of 
 Louis XIV. It was five miles north of Versailles, where the 
 King's great palace was. 
 
 3 See the essay on Milton, page G2, note 4. 
 
 4 St. James's Palace, in London, long a residence of the Brit- 
 ish sovereigns. 
 
 6 The sign of the office of Lord High Treasurer. 
 
170 MACAU LAY. 
 
 became rapid and violent. The Parliament was dis- 
 solved. The ministers were turned out. The Tories 
 were called to office. The tide of popularity ran vio- 
 lently in favor of the High Church party. That 
 party, feeble in the late House of Commons, was now 
 irresistible. The power which the Tories had thus 
 suddenly acquired, they used with blind and stupid 
 ferocity. The howl which the whole pack set up for 
 prey and for blood appalled even him 1 who had roused 
 and unchained them. When, at this distance of time, 
 we calmly review the conduct of the discarded minis- 
 ters, we cannot but feel a movement of indignation 
 at the injustice with which they were treated. No 
 body of men had ever administered the government 
 with more energy, ability, and moderation ; and their 
 success had been proportioned to their wisdom. They 
 had saved Holland and Germany. They had hum- 
 bled France. They had, as it seemed, all but torn 
 Spain from the house of Bourbon. They had made 
 England the first power in Europe. At home they 
 had united England and Scotland. 2 They had re- 
 spected the rights of conscience and the liberty of the 
 subject. They retired leaving their country at the 
 height of prosperity and glory. And } y et they were 
 pursued to their retreat by such a roar of obloquy as 
 was never raised against the government which threw 
 away thirteen colonies, or against the government 
 which sent a gallant army to perish in the ditches of 
 Walcheren. 3 
 
 1 Harley. 
 
 2 By the Act of Union, 1706. 
 
 8 An island in the Dutch province of Zealand. In 1809 an 
 expedition was sent thither in order to divert Napoleon for the 
 benefit of Austria. The troops were taken with malaria, and 
 thousands perished, so that the enterprise had to be abandoned, 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. Ill 
 
 None of the Whigs suffered more in the general 
 wreck than Addison. He had just sustained some 
 heavy pecuniary losses, of the nature of which we 
 are imperfectly informed, when his secretaryship was 
 taken from him. He had reason to believe that he 
 should also be deprived of the small Irish office which 
 he held by patent. He had just resigned his fellow- 
 ship. It seems probable that he had already ventured 
 to raise his eyes to a great lady, 1 and that while his 
 political friends were in power, and while his own 
 fortunes were rising, he had been, in the phrase of 
 the romances which were then fashionable, ""permitted 
 to hope." But Mr. Addison the ingenious writer, 
 and Mr. Addison the chief secretary, were, in her 
 ladyship's opinion, two very different persons. All 
 these calamities united, however, could not disturb 
 the serene cheerfulness of a mind conscious of in- 
 nocence, and rich in its own wealth. He told his 
 friends, with smiling resignation, that they ought to 
 admire his philosophy; that he had lost at once his 
 fortune, his place, his fellowship, and his mistress; 
 that he must think of turning tutor again; and yet 
 that his spirits were as good as ever. 
 
 He had one consolation. Of the unpopularity 
 which his friends had incurred, he had no share. 
 Such was the esteem with which he was regarded 
 that, while the most violent measures were taken for 
 the purpose of forcing Tory members on Whig corpo- 
 rations, 2 he was returned to Parliament without even 
 
 after having accomplished nothing, and having cost about 
 twenty million pounds. 
 
 1 The Countess Dowager of Warwick. See page 206. 
 
 2 That is, on boroughs that usually returned Whig members 
 of Parliament. 
 
172 MACAULAY. 
 
 a contest. Swift, who was now in London, and who 
 had already determined on quitting the Whigs, wrote 
 to Stella in these remarkable words: "The Tories 
 carry it among the new members six to one. Mr. 
 Addison's election has passed easy and undisputed, 
 and I believe, if he had a mind to be king, he would 
 hardly be refused." 
 
 The good will with which the Tories regarded Ad- 
 dison is the more honorable to him, because it had 
 not been purchased by any concession on his part. 
 During the general election, he published a political 
 journal entitled "The Whig Examiner." l Of that 
 journal it may be sufficient to say that Johnson, in 
 spite of his strong political prejudice, pronounced it 
 to be superior in wit to any of Swift's writings on the 
 other side. 2 When it ceased to appear, Swift, in a 
 letter to Stella, expressed his exultation at the death 
 of so formidable an antagonist. " He might well re- 
 joice," says Johnson, "at the death of that which he 
 could not have killed." "On no occasion," he adds, 
 "was the genius of Addison more vigorously exerted, 
 and on none did the superiority of his powers more 
 evidently appear." 
 
 The only use which Addison appears to have made 
 of the favor with which he was regarded by the 
 Tories was to save some of his friends from the gen- 
 eral ruin of the Whig party. Pie felt himself to be 
 iii a situation which made it his duty to take a de- 
 cided part in politics. But the case of Steele and of 
 
 1 Five numbers appeared, — Thursday, September 14, to 
 Thursday, October 12, 1710. 
 
 2 Swift was writing for The Examiner, a Tory organ, which 
 seems to have run from August 3, 1710, to July 26, 1714. He 
 was also writing pamphlets. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 173 
 
 Ambrose Philips was different. For Philips, Addi- 
 son even condescended to solicit, with what success 
 we have not ascertained. Steele held two places: he 
 was gazetteer, and he was also a commissioner of 
 stamps. The gazette was taken from him, but he 
 was suffered to retain his place in the Stamp Office 
 on an implied understanding that he should not be 
 active against the new government ; and he was, dur- 
 ing more than two years, induced by Addison to 
 observe this armistice with tolerable fidelity. 
 
 Isaac Bickerstaff accordingly became silent upon 
 politics, and the article of news which had once 
 formed about one third of his paper altogether disap- 
 peared. "The Tatler" had completely changed its 
 character: it was now nothing but a series of essays 
 on books, morals, and manners. Steele, therefore, 
 resolved to bring it to a close, and to commence a 
 new work on an improved plan. It was announced 
 that this new work would be published daily. The 
 undertaking was generally regarded as bold, or rather 
 rash; but the event amply justified the confidence 
 with which Steele relied on the fertility of Addison's 
 genius. On the 2d of January, 1711, appeared the 
 last "Tatler." At the beginning of. March following, 
 appeared the first of an incomparable series of papers, 
 containing observations on life and literature by an 
 imaginary Spectator. 1 
 
 The Spectator himself was conceived and drawn by 
 Addison, and it is not easy to doubt that the portrait 
 
 1 The Spectator ran from Thursday, March 1, 1710-11, to Sat- 
 urday, December 6, 1712, — 555 daily numbers. On Friday, 
 June 18, 1714, Addison took it up in tri-weekly numbers, and 
 continued it to Monday, December 20, 1714, — making in all 
 635 numbers. 
 
174 MACAU LAY. 
 
 was meant to be in some features a likeness of the 
 painter. The Spectator is a gentleman who, after 
 passing a studious youth at the university, has trav- 
 eled on classic ground, and has bestowed much atten- 
 tion on curious points of antiquity. He has, on his 
 return, fixed his residence in London, and has ob- 
 served all the forms of life which are to be found in 
 that great city; has daily listened to the wits of Will's, 
 has smoked with the philosophers of the Grecian, and 
 has mingled with the parsons at Child's and with the 
 politicians at the St. James's. In the morning he 
 often listens to the hum of the Exchange; in the 
 evening his face is constantly to be seen in the pit of 
 Drury Lane Theatre. But an insurmountable bash- 
 fulness prevents him from opening his mouth, except 
 in a small circle of intimate friends. 
 
 These friends were first sketched by Steele. Four 
 of the club — the templar, the clergyman, the soldier, 
 and the merchant — were uninteresting figures, fit 
 only for a background ; but the other two, — an old 
 country baronet and an old town rake, — though not 
 delineated with a very delicate pencil, had some good 
 strokes. Addison took the rude outlines into his own 
 hands, retouched them, colored them, and is in truth 
 the creator of the Sir Roger de Coverley and the Will 
 Honeycomb with whom we are all familiar. 
 
 The plan of "The Spectator" must be allowed to 
 be both original and eminently happy. Every valu- 
 able essay in the series may be read with pleasure 
 separately; yet the five or six hundred essays form 
 a whole, and a whole which has the interest of a 
 novel. It must be remembered, too, that at that 
 time no novel giving a lively and powerful picture of 
 the common life and manners of England had ap- 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 175 
 
 peared. Richardson 1 was working as a compositor. 
 Fielding was robbing birds'-nests. Smollett 2 was 
 not yet born. The narrative, therefore, which con- 
 nects together the Spectator's essays gave to our an- 
 cestors their first taste of an exquisite and untried 
 pleasure. That narrative was indeed constructed 
 with no art or labor. The events were such events 
 as occur every day. Sir Roger comes up to town to 
 see Eugenio, as the worthy baronet always calls 
 Prince Eugene, goes with the Spectator on the water 
 to Spring Gardens, 3 walks among the tombs in the 
 Abbey, and is frightened by the Mohawks, 4 but con- 
 quers his apprehension so far as to go to the theatre 
 when "The Distressed Mother " 5 is acted. The Spec- 
 tator pays a visit in the summer to Coverley Hall ; is 
 charmed with the old house, the old butler, and the 
 old chaplain; eats a jack caught by Will Wimble; 
 rides to the assizes, and hears a point of law discussed 
 by Tom Touchy. At last a letter from the honest 
 butler brings to the club the news that Sir Roger is 
 dead. Will Honeycomb marries and reforms at sixty. 
 The club breaks up, and the Spectator resigns his 
 functions. Such events can hardly be said to form 
 a plot; yet they are related with such truth, such 
 grace, such wit, such humor, such pathos, such know- 
 
 1 See the essay on Johnson, page 28, note 3. 
 
 2 Tobias Smollett (1721-1771), the great Scotch story-teller 
 rather than novelist, author of Roderick Random, Peregrine 
 Pickle, Humphrey Clinker, etc. 
 
 8 A pleasure resort at Charing Cross, afterwards the famous 
 Vauxhall. See The Spectator, No. 383. 
 
 4 A set of wild young men who assaulted wayfarers at night, 
 and were suppressed with difficulty. 
 
 6 A play by Ambrose Philips, translated from Racine's An- 
 dromache, for which Addison wrote an epilogue. 
 
176 MACAULAY. 
 
 ledge of the human heart, such knowledge of the ways 
 of the world, that they charm us on the hundredth 
 perusal. We have not the least doubt that, if Addi- 
 son had written a novel on an extensive plan, it would 
 have been superior to any that we possess. As it is, 
 he is entitled to be considered not only as the greatest 
 of the English essayists, but as the forerunner of the 
 great English novelists. 
 
 We say this of Addison alone, for Addison is the 
 Spectator. About three sevenths of the work are 
 his, and it is no exaggeration to say that his worst 
 essay is as good as the best essay of any of his coad- 
 jutors. His best essays approach near to absolute 
 perfection; nor is their excellence more wonderful 
 than their variety. His invention never seems to 
 flag; nor is he ever under the necessity of repeating 
 himself, or of wearing out a subject. There are no 
 dregs in his wine. He regales us after the fashion 
 of that prodigal nabob who held that there was only 
 one good glass in a bottle. As soon as we have tasted 
 the first sparkling foam of a jest, it is withdrawn, 
 and a fresh draught of nectar is at our lips. On the 
 Monday we have an allegory as lively and ingenious 
 as Lucian's "Auction of Lives;" 1 on the Tuesday, 
 an Eastern apologue as richly coloi'ed as the tales of 
 Scheherezade ; 2 on the Wednesday, a character de- 
 scribed with the skill of La Bruyere ; 3 on the Thurs- 
 day, a scene from common life equal to the best chap- 
 
 1 Lucian of Samosata (120-200 A. D. circa), the famous 
 Greek satirist, noted for his Dialogues against superstition and 
 vice. 
 
 2 That is, The Arabian Nights' Entertainments. 
 
 8 Jean de la Bruyere (1645-1696), a great French moralist. 
 His chief work is called in brief The Characters. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 177 
 
 ters in "The Vicar of Wakefield;" 1 on the Friday, 
 some sly Horajfcian pleasantry on fashionable follies, 
 on hoops, patches, or puppet shows ; and on the Sat- 
 urday, a religious meditation which will bear a com- 
 parison with the finest passages in Massillon. 2 
 
 It is dangerous to select where there is so much 
 that deserves the highest praise. We will venture, 
 however, to say that any person who wishes to form 
 a just notion of the extent and variety of Addison's 
 powers will do well to read at one sitting- the follow- 
 ing- papers, — the two "Visits to the Abbey," the 
 "Visit to the Exchange," the "Journal of the Retired 
 Citizen," the "Vision of Mirza," the "Transmigra- 
 tions of Pug the Monkey," and the "Death of Sir 
 Roger de Coverley." 
 
 The least valuable of Addison's contributions to 
 "The Spectator" are, in the judgment of our age, his 
 critical papers; yet his critical papers are always 
 luminous, and often ingenious. The very worst of 
 them must be regarded as creditable to him, when 
 the character of the school in which he had been 
 trained is fairly considered. The best of them were 
 much too good for his readers. In truth, he was not 
 so far behind our generation as he was before his 
 own. No essays in "The Spectator" were more cen- 
 sured and derided than those in which he raised his 
 voice against the contempt with which our fine old 
 ballads were regarded, and showed the scoffers that 
 the same gold which, burnished and polished, gives 
 lustre to the "iEneid" and the Odes of Horace is 
 mingled with the rude dross of "Chevy Chace." 
 
 1 See the essay on Goldsmith, page 77. 
 
 2 Jean Baptiste Massillon (1663-1742), the famous French 
 preacher. 
 
178 MACAU LAY. 
 
 It is not strange that the success of "The Specta- 
 tor " should have been such as no similar work has 
 ever obtained. The number of copies daily distrib- 
 uted was at first three thousand. It subsequently 
 increased, and had risen to near four thousand when 
 the stamp tax was imposed. That tax was fatal to 
 a crowd of journals. "The Spectator," however, 
 stood its ground, doubled its price, and, though its 
 circulation fell off, still yielded a large revenue both 
 to the state and to the authors. For particular 
 papers the demand was immense ; of some, it is said, 
 twenty thousand copies were required. But this was 
 not all. To have "The Spectator" served up every 
 morning with the bohea and rolls was a luxury for 
 the few. The majority were content to wait till 
 essays enough had appeared to form a volume. Ten 
 thousand copies of each volume were immediately 
 taken off, and new editions were called for. It must 
 be remembered that the population of England was 
 then hardly a third of what it now is. The number 
 of Englishmen who were in the habit of reading was 
 probably not a sixth of what it now is. A shopkeeper 
 or a farmer who found any pleasure in literature was 
 a rarity. Nay, there was doubtless more than one 
 knight of the shire x whose country-seat did not con- 
 tain ten books, receipt books and books on farriery 
 included. In these circumstances, the sale of "The 
 Spectator " must be considered as indicating a popu- 
 larity quite as great as that of the most successful 
 works of Sir Walter Scott and Mr. Dickens in our 
 own time. 
 
 At the close of 1712 "The Spectator" ceased to 
 
 appear. It was probably felt that the short-faced 
 
 1 A member of the House of Commons for a county at large. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 179 
 
 gentleman and his club had been long enough before 
 the town, and that it was time to withdraw them, and 
 to replace them by a new set of characters. In a few 
 weeks the first number of "The Guardian " x was pub- 
 lished; but " The Guardian " was unfortunate both in 
 its birth and in its death. It began in dullness, and 
 disappeared in a tempest of faction. The original 
 plan was bad. Addison contributed nothing till sixty- 
 six numbers had appeared ; and it was then impossi- 
 ble to make ""The Guardian" what "The Spectator" 
 had been. Nestor Ironside and the Miss Lizards 2 
 were people to whom even he could impart no inter- 
 est. He could only furnish some excellent little 
 essays, both serious and comic; and this he did. 
 
 Why Addison gave no assistance to "The Guar- 
 dian " during the first two months of its existence is 
 a question which has puzzled the editors and biogra- 
 phers, but which seems to us to admit of a very easy 
 solution. He was then engaged in bringing his 
 "Cato" on the stage. 
 
 The first four acts of this drama had been lying in 
 his desk since his return from Italy. His modest and 
 sensitive nature shrank from the risk of a public and 
 shamef ul failure ; and, though all who saw the manu- 
 script were loud in praise, some thought it possible 
 that an audience might become impatient even of 
 very good rhetoric, and advised Addison to print the 
 j) lay without hazarding a representation. At length, 
 after many fits of apprehension, the poet yielded to 
 the urgency of his political friends, who hoped that 
 the public would discover some analogy between the 
 
 1 It ran for 175 numbers, being published daily from March 
 12 to October 1, 1713. Addison wrote 53 numbers. 
 
 2 The Guardian and his wards. 
 
180 MACAULAY. 
 
 followers of Caesar and the Tories; between Sempro- 
 nius 1 and the apostate Whigs ; between Cato, strug- 
 gling to the last for the liberties of Rome, and the 
 band of patriots who still stood firm round Halifax 
 and Wharton. 
 
 Addison gave the play to the managers of Drury 
 Lane Theatre without stipulating for any advantage 
 to himself. They therefore thought themselves bound 
 to spare no cost in scenery and dresses. The decora- 
 tions, it is true, would not have pleased the skillful 
 eye of Mr. Macready. 2 Juba's waistcoat blazed with 
 gold lace; Marcia's hoop was worthy of a duchess on 
 the birthday; 3 and Cato wore a wig worth fifty guin- 
 eas. The prologue was written by Pope, and is un- 
 doubtedly a dignified and spirited composition. The 
 part of the hero was excellently played by Booth. 4 
 Steele undertook to pack a house. The boxes were 
 in a blaze with the stars 5 of the peers in opposition. 
 The pit was crowded with attentive and friendly lis- 
 teners from the Inns of Court 6 and the literary coffee- 
 houses. Sir Gilbert Heathcote, 7 governor of the 
 Bank of England, was at the head of a powerful body 
 
 1 A Roman senator, one of the characters of the play. 
 
 2 William Charles Macready (1793-1873), in his prime as a 
 tragedian when this essay was written. 
 
 3 Juha was a prince of Nmnidia ; Marcia, Cato's daughter. 
 " Birthday " refers to the reception held by the sovereign on 
 this anniversary. 
 
 4 Barton Booth (1681-1733), the leading tragedian of the 
 day. 
 
 5 That is, the insignia of the orders (Bath, Garter, etc.) to 
 which they belonged. 
 
 6 Incorporated legal societies in London which have the 
 exclusive privilege of calling candidates to the bar. 
 
 7 1651-1733. Also Lord Mayor of London ; mentioned favor- 
 ably by both Pope and Swift. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 181 
 
 of auxiliaries from the city, warm men and true 
 Whigs, but better known at Jonathan's and Gang- 
 way's 2 than in the haunts of wits and critics. 
 
 These precautions were quite superfluous. The 
 Tories, as a body, regarded Addison with no unkind 
 feelings. Nor was it for their interest — professing, 
 as they did, profound reverence for law and prescrip- 
 tion, and abhorrence both of popular insurrections 
 and of standing armies — to appropriate to them- 
 selves reflections thrown on the great military chief 
 and demagogue 2 who, with the support of the legions 
 and of the common people, subverted all the ancient 
 institutions of his country. Accordingly, every shout 
 that was raised by the members of the Kit Cat was 
 echoed by the High Churchmen of the October ; 3 and 
 the curtain at length fell amidst thunders of unani- 
 mous applause. 
 
 The delight and admiration of the town were de- 
 scribed by "The Guardian " in terms which we might 
 attribute to partiality, were it not that "The Ex- 
 aminer," the organ of the ministry, held similar lan- 
 guage. The Tories, indeed, found much to sneer at 
 in the conduct of their opponents. Steele had, on 
 this as on other occasions, shown more zeal than 
 taste or judgment. The honest citizens who marched 
 under the orders of Sir Gibby, 4 as he was facetiously 
 called, probably knew better when to buy and when 
 to sell stock than when to clap and when to hiss at 
 
 1 Coffee-houses frequented by commercial men. 
 
 2 Csesar. 
 
 3 A club frequented by Tory members of Parliament where 
 much October ale was drunk. 
 
 4 That is, Heathcote, though the sentence reads as if it wero 
 Steele. 
 
182 MA CAUL AY. 
 
 a play, and incurred some ridicule by making the 
 hypocritical Sempronius their favorite, and by giving 
 to his insincere rants louder plaudits than they be- 
 stowed on the temperate eloquence of Cato. Whar- 
 ton, 1 too, who had the incredible effrontery to applaud 
 the lines about flying from prosperous vice and from 
 the power of impious men to a private station, did 
 not escape the sarcasms of those who justly thought 
 that he could fly from nothing more vicious or im- 
 pious than himself. The epilogue, which was written 
 by Garth, 2 a zealous Whig, was severely and not 
 unreasonably censured as ignoble and out of place. 
 But Addison was described, even by the bitterest 
 Tory writers, as a gentleman of wit and virtue, in 
 whose friendship many persons of both parties were 
 happy, and whose name ought not to be mixed up 
 with factious squabbles. 
 
 Of the jests by which the triumph of the Whig 
 party was disturbed, the most severe and happy was 
 Bolingbroke's. Between two acts he sent for Booth 
 to his box, and presented him, before the whole the- 
 atre, with a purse of fifty guineas for defending the 
 cause of liberty so well against a perpetual dictator. 
 This was a pungent allusion to the attempt which 
 Marlborough had made, not long before his fall, to 
 obtain a patent creating him captain-general for life. 
 
 It was April, and in April a hundred and thirty 
 years ago the London season was thought to be far 
 advanced. During a whole month, however, "Cato" 
 was performed to overflowing houses, and brought 
 
 1 Philip, Duke of Wharton (1698-1731), son of the Marquis, 
 noted for his debaucheries. 
 
 2 Sir Samuel Garth (1660-1718), physician and poet, author 
 of The Dispensary, a mock-heroic poem now little read. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF' ADDISON. 183 
 
 into the treasury of the theatre twice the gains of an 
 ordinary spring. In the summer the Drury Lane 
 company went down to the act l at Oxford, and there, 
 before an audience which retained an affectionate 
 remembrance of Addison's accomplishments and vir- 
 tues, his tragedy was acted during several days. 
 The gownsmen began to besiege the theatre in the 
 forenoon, and by one in the afternoon all the seats 
 were filled. 
 
 About the merits of the piece which had so extra- 
 ordinary an effect, the public, we suppose, has made 
 up its mind. To compare it with the masterpieces 
 of the Attic stage, 2 with the great English dramas of 
 the time of Elizabeth, or even with the productions 
 of Schiller's 3 manhood, would be -absurd indeed. 
 Yet it contains excellent dialogue and declamation, 
 and, among plays fashioned on the French model, 
 must be allowed to rank high; not, indeed, with 
 "Athalie" or "Saul," but, we think, not below 
 "China," 4 and certainly afiove any other English 
 tragedy of the same school, above many of the plays 
 of Corneille, above many of the plays of Voltaire and 
 Alfieri, 5 and above some plays of Racine. Be this 
 as it may, we have little doubt that "Cato" did as 
 much as the "Tatlers," "Spectators," and "Free- 
 holders" united to raise Addison's fame among his 
 contemporaries. 
 
 1 That is, the occasion of the completion of degrees. 
 
 2 That is, with the plays of iEschylus, Sophocles, and Eurip- 
 ides. 
 
 3 Friedrich von Schiller (1759-1805). Macaulay refers to 
 such plays as Marin Stuart and Wilhelm Tell. 
 
 4 Dramas by Racine, Alfieri, and Pierre Corneille (1606-1684). 
 
 5 Count Vittorio Alfieri (1749-1803), the great Italian tragic 
 poet. 
 
184 MAC A (/LAY. 
 
 The modesty and good nature of the successful 
 dramatist had tamed even the malignity of faction. 
 But literary envy, it should seem, is a fiercer passion 
 than party spirit. It was by a zealous Whig that 
 the fiercest attack on the Whig tragedy was made. 
 John Dennis 1 published "Remarks on Cato," which 
 were written with some acuteness and with much 
 coarseness and asperity. Addison neither defended 
 himself nor retaliated. On many points he had an 
 excellent defense, and nothing would have been easier 
 than to retaliate, for Dennis had written bad odes, 
 bad tragedies, bad comedies; he had, moreover, a 
 larger share than most men of those infirmities and 
 eccentricities which excite laughter; and Addison's 
 power of turning either an absurd book or an absurd 
 man into ridicule was unrivaled. Addison, however, 
 serenely conscious of his superiority, looked with pity 
 on his assailant, whose temper, naturally irritable and 
 gloomy, had been soured by want, by controversy, and 
 by literary failures. 
 
 But among the young candidates for Addison's 
 favor there was one distinguished by talents from the 
 rest, and distinguished, we fear, not less by malignity 
 and insincerity. Pope was only twenty -five. But his 
 powers had expanded to their full maturity ; and his 
 best poem, "The Rape of the Lock," had recently 
 been published. 2 Of his genius Addison had always 
 expressed high admiration; but Addison had early 
 discerned, what might, indeed, have been discerned 
 by an eye less penetrating than his, that the diminu- 
 tive, crooked, sickly boy was eager to revenge himself 
 
 1 1657-1734. A critic who was himself the butt of Swift and 
 Pope, whose satires have made him live. 
 
 2 In 1714. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 185 
 
 on society for the unkindness of nature. In "The 
 Spectator," the "Essay on Criticism" had been 
 praised with cordial warmth; but a gentle hint had 
 been added that the writer of so excellent a poem 
 would have done well to avoid ill-natured personali- 
 ties. Pope, though evidently more galled by the 
 censure than gratified by the praise, returned thanks 
 for the admonition, and promised to profit by it. 
 The two writers continued to exchange civilities, 
 counsel, and small good offices. Addison publicly 
 extolled Pope's miscellaneous pieces, and Pope fur- 
 nished Addison with a prologue. This did not last 
 long. Pope hated Dennis, whom he had injured 
 without provocation. 1 The appearance of the "Re- 
 marks on Cato " gave the irritable poet an opportu- 
 nity of venting his malice under the show of friend- 
 ship; and such an opportunity could not but be 
 welcome to a nature which was implacable in en- 
 mity, and which always preferred the tortuous to 
 the straight path. He published, accordingly, "The 
 Narrative of the Frenzy of John Dennis." But Pope 
 had mistaken his powers. He was a great master of 
 invective and sarcasm ; he could dissect a character 
 in terse and sonorous couplets, brilliant with antithe- 
 sis; but of dramatic talent he was altogether desti- 
 tute. If he had written a lampoon on Dennis, such 
 as that on Atticus or that on Sporus, 2 the old grum- 
 bler would have been crushed. But Pope writing 
 dialogue resembled — to borrow Horace's imagery 
 
 1 Probably in the Essay on Criticism. 
 
 2 For the lampoon on Atticus see page 203 and note ; this fa- 
 mous attack, together with that on Sporus (John, Lord Hervey, 
 author of the Memoirs of the Court of George II.), occurs in the 
 Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, 
 
186 MACAU LAY. 
 
 and his own — a wolf which, instead of biting - , should 
 take to kicking, or a monkey which should try to 
 sting. 1 The "Narrative" is utterly contemptible. Of 
 argument there is not even a show; and the jests are 
 such as, if they were introduced into a farce, would 
 call forth the hisses of the shilling gallery. Dennis 
 raves about the drama, and the nurse thinks that 
 he is calling for a dram. "There is," he cries, "no 
 peripetia 2 in the tragedy, no change of fortune, no 
 change at all." "Pray, good sir, be not angry," says 
 the old woman; "I'll fetch change." This is not 
 exactly the pleasantry of Addison. 3 
 
 There can be no doubt that Addison saw through 
 this officious zeal, and felt himself deeply aggrieved 
 by it. So foolish and spiteful a pamphlet could do 
 him no good, and, if he were thought to have any 
 hand in it, must do him harm. Gifted with incom- 
 parable powers of ridicule, he had never, even in self- 
 defense, used those powers inhumanly or uncourte- 
 ously ; and he was not disposed to let others make his 
 fame and his interests a pretext under which they 
 might commit outrages from which he had himself 
 constantly abstained. He accordingly declared that 
 he had no concern in the "Narrative," that he disap- 
 proved of it, and that, if he answered the remarks, he 
 would answer them like a gentleman; and he took 
 care to communicate this to Dennis. Pope was bit- 
 terly mortified, and to this transaction we are inclined 
 to ascribe the hatred with which he ever after re- 
 garded Addison. 
 
 1 Horace, Satires, II. i. 55 ; Pope's imitation, 11. 86, 87. 
 
 2 " Peripetia," that part of a drama in which the plot is unrav- 
 eled and the whole concludes. 
 
 3 Maeaulay has not in the least exaggerated the worthlessnesa 
 of Pope's performance. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 187 
 
 In September, 1713, "The Guardian" ceased to 
 appear. Steele had gone mad about .politics. A gen- 
 eral election had just taken place. He had been 
 chosen member for Stockbridge, and he fully ex- 
 pected to play a first part in Parliament. The im- 
 mense success of the "Tatler" and "Spectator" had 
 turned his head. He had been the editor of both 
 those papers, and was not aware how entirely they 
 owed their influence and popularity to the genius of 
 his friend. His spirits, always violent, were now 
 excited by vanity, ambition, and faction to such a 
 pitch that he every day committed some offense 
 against good sense and good taste. All the discreet 
 and moderate members of his own party regretted 
 and condemned his folly. " I am in a thousand trou- 
 bles," Addison wrote, "about poor Dick, and wish 
 that his zeal for the public may not be ruinous to 
 himself. But he has sent me word that he is deter- 
 mined to go on, and that any advice I may give him 
 in this particular will have no weight with him." 
 
 Steele set up a political paper called "The English- 
 man," 1 which, as it was not supported by contributions 
 from Addison, completely failed. By this work, by 
 some other writings of the same kind, and by the airs 
 which he gave himself at the first meeting of the new 
 Parliament, he made the Tories so angry that they 
 determined to expel him. 2 The Whigs stood by him 
 gallantly, but were unable to save him. The vote of 
 expulsion was regarded by all dispassionate men as 
 a tyrannical exercise of the power of the majority. 
 But Steele's violence and folly, though they by no 
 means justified the steps which his enemies took, had 
 
 1 It ran 50 numbers, beginning October 6, 1713. 
 
 2 He was expelled March 18, 1714. 
 
188 MACAULAY. 
 
 completely disgusted his friends; nor did he ever 
 regain the place which he had held in the public esti- 
 mation. 
 
 Addison about this time conceived the design of 
 adding an eighth volume to "The Spectator." In 
 June, 1714, the first number of the new series ap- 
 peared, and during about six months three papers 
 were published weekly. 1 Nothing can be more strik- 
 ing than the contrast between "The Englishman " and 
 the eighth volume of "The Spectator," between Steele 
 without Addison and Addison without Steele. "The 
 Englishman " is forgotten, — the eighth volume of 
 "The Spectator " contains, perhaps, the finest essays, 
 both serious and playful, in the English language. 
 
 Before this volume was completed, the death of 
 Anne 2 produced an entire change in the administra- 
 tion of public affairs. The blow fell suddenly. It 
 found the Tory party distracted by internal feuds, 
 and unprepared for any great effort. Harley had 
 just been disgraced. Bolingbroke, it was supposed, 
 would be the chief minister. But the Queen was on 
 her death-bed before the white staff had been given, 
 and her last public act was to deliver it with a feeble 
 hand to the Duke of Shrewsbury. The emergency 
 produced a coalition between all sections of public 
 men who wei^e attached to the Protestant succession. 
 George I. was proclaimed without opposition. A 
 council, in which the leading Whigs had seats, took 
 the direction of affairs till the new King should arrive. 
 The first act of the lords justices was to appoint Addi- 
 son their secretary. 
 
 1 From Friday, June 18, to Monday, December 20, 1714, 79 
 numbers. 
 
 2 August, 1714. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 189 
 
 There is an idle tradition that he was directed to 
 prepare a letter to the King ; that he could not satisfy 
 himself as to the style of this composition, and that 
 the lords justices called in a clerk, who at once did 
 what was wanted. It is not strange that a story so 
 flattering to mediocrity should he popular, and we 
 are sorry to deprive dunces of their consolation. But 
 the truth must be told. It was well observed by Sir 
 James Mackintosh, 1 whose knowledge of these times 
 was unequaled, that Addison never, in any official 
 document, affected wit or eloquence, and that his dis- 
 patches are, without exception, remarkable for un- 
 pretending simplicity. Everybody who knows with 
 what ease Addison's finest essays were produced must 
 be convinced that, if well - turned phrases had been 
 wanted, he would have had no difficulty in finding 
 them. We are, however, inclined to believe that the 
 story is not absolutely without a foundation. It may 
 well be that Addison did not know, till he had con- 
 sulted experienced clerks who remembered the time 
 when William III. was absent on the Continent, in 
 what form a letter from the Council of Regency to 
 the King ought to be drawn. We think it very 
 likely that the ablest statesmen of our time — Lord 
 John Russell, Sir Robert Peel, Lord Palmerston, for 
 example — would, in similar circumstances, be found 
 quite as ignorant. Every office has some little mys- 
 teries which the dullest man may learn with a little 
 attention, and which the greatest man cannot possibly 
 know by intuition. One paper must be signed by 
 the chief of the department ; another by his dejmty ; 
 
 1 1765-1832. Statesman, essayist, and historian. See Ma- 
 eaulay's essay on him. He wrote a work on the Revolution of 
 1688." 
 
190 MACAU LAY. 
 
 to a third the royal sign manual is necessary. One 
 communication is to be registered, and another is not. 
 One sentence must be in black ink, and another in 
 red ink. If the ablest secretary for Ireland were 
 moved to the India Board, 1 if the ablest president of 
 the India Board were moved to the War Office, he 
 would require instruction on points like these; and 
 we do not doubt that Addison required such instruc- 
 tion when he became, for the first time, secretary to 
 the lords justices. 
 
 George I. took possession of his kingdom without 
 opposition. A new ministry was formed, and a new 
 Parliament favorable to the Whigs chosen. Sunder- 
 land was appointed lord lieutenant of Ireland, and 
 Addison again went to Dublin as chief secretary. 
 
 At Dublin, Swift resided; and there was much 
 speculation about the way in which the Dean and the 
 Secretary would behave towards each other. The 
 relations which existed between these remarkable men 
 form an interesting and pleasing portion of literary 
 history. They had early attached themselves to the 
 same political party and to the same patrons. While 
 Anne's Whig ministry was in power, the visits of 
 Swift to London, and the official residence of Ad- 
 dison in Ireland, had given them opportunities of 
 knowing each other. They were the two shrewdest 
 observers of their age, but their observations on each 
 other had led them to favorable conclusions. Swift 
 did full justice to the rare powers of conversation 
 which were latent under the bashful deportment of 
 Addison. Addison, on the other hand, discerned 
 much good nature under the severe look and manner 
 
 1 The administration of India did not pass from the East 
 India Company to the Crown until 1858. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 191 
 
 of Swift; and, indeed, the Swift of 1708 and the 
 Swift of 1738 1 were two very different men. 
 
 But the paths of the two friends diverged widely. 
 The Whig statesmen loaded Addison with solid bene- 
 fits. They praised Swift, asked him to dinner, and 
 did nothing more for him. His profession laid them 
 under a difficulty. In the State they could not pro- 
 mote him, and they had reason to fear that, by be- 
 stowing preferment in the Church on the author of 
 "The Tale of a Tub," 2 they might give scandal to the 
 public, which had no high opinion of their orthodoxy. 
 He did not make fair allowance for the difficulties 
 which prevented Halifax and Somers from serving 
 him, thought himself an ill-used man, sacrificed honor 
 and consistency to revenge, joined the Tories, and 
 became their most formidable champion. He soon 
 found, however, that his old friends were less to 
 blame than he had supposed. The dislike with which 
 the Queen and the heads of the Church regarded him 
 was insurmountable; and it was with the greatest 
 difficulty that he obtained an ecclesiastical dignity of 
 no great value, on condition of fixing his residence in 
 a country which he detested. 
 
 Difference of political opinion had produced, not, 
 indeed, a quarrel, but a coolness, between Swift and 
 Addison. They at length ceased altogether to see 
 each other. Yet there was between them a tacit 
 compact like that between the hereditary guests 3 in 
 the "Iliad:" — 
 
 1 At the latter date Swift had suffered impairment of his 
 mental powers and had become more moody and misanthropi- 
 cal. 
 
 2 A powerful satire by Swift, written in the High Church 
 interest, but in such a way as to shock many readers. 
 
 3 Grlaucus and Diomed. 
 
192 M AC AULA Y. 
 
 "Eyx^a 8' aW^iKaii/ aAec6;ue#a Kal 81 6fii\ow 
 TloWol fxtv yap i/xol Tpaxs kKhtoI t' iiriKovpoi, 
 Kre'iveiv, uv /ce Serfs ye Tr6prj not iroaal kix<:[<», 
 TloWol 8' av col 'Axaiol, fvaipe/xev, bv Ke Svvrjai. 1 
 
 Iliad, Lib. VI. 22(5-229. 
 
 It is not strange that Addison, who calumniated 
 and insulted nobody, should not have calumniated or 
 insulted Swift; but it is remarkable that Swift, to 
 whom neither genius nor virtue was sacred, and who 
 generally seemed to find, like most other renegades, 
 a peculiar pleasure in attacking old friends, should 
 have shown so much respect and tenderness to Addi- 
 son. 
 
 Fortune had now changed. The accession of the 
 house of Hanover had secured in England the liber- 
 ties of the people, and in Ireland the dominion of the 
 Protestant caste. To that caste Swift was more odi- 
 ous than any other man. He was hooted and even 
 pelted in the streets of Dublin, and could not venture 
 to ride along the strand for his health without the 
 attendance of armed servants. Many whom he had 
 formerly served now libeled and insulted him. At 
 this time Addison arrived. He had been advised not 
 to show the smallest civility to the Dean of St. Pat- 
 rick's. He had answered, with admirable spirit, that 
 it might be necessary for men whose fidelity to their 
 party was suspected to hold no intercourse with politi- 
 cal opponents, but that one who had been a steady 
 Whig in the worst times might venture, when the 
 good cause was triumphant, to shake hands with an 
 
 1 " Enough of Trojans to this lance shall yield, 
 In the full harvest of yon ample field; 
 Enough of Greeks shall dye thy spear with gore; 
 But thou and Diomed be foes no more." 
 
 Pope. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 193 
 
 old friend who was one of the vanquished Tories. 
 His kindness was soothing to the proud and cruelly 
 wounded spirit of Swift, and the two great satirists 
 resumed their habits of friendly intercourse. 
 
 Those associates of Addison whose political opin- 
 ions agreed with his shared his good fortune. He 
 took Tickell * with him to Ireland. He procured for 
 Budgell a lucrative place in the same kingdom. Am- 
 brose Philips was provided for in England. 2 Steele 
 had injured himself so much by his eccentricity and 
 perverseness that he obtained but a very small part 
 of what he thought his due. He was, however, 
 knighted ; he had a place in the household ; 3 and he 
 subsequently received other marks of favor from the 
 court. 
 
 Addison did not remain long in Ireland. In 1715 
 he quitted his secretaryship for a seat at the Board of 
 Trade. In the same year his comedy of "The Drum- 
 mer" was brought on the stage. The name of the 
 author was not announced. The piece was coldly 
 received, and some critics have expressed a doubt 
 whether it were really Addison's. To us the evi- 
 dence, both external and internal, seems decisive. 
 It is not in Addison's best manner, but it contains 
 numerous passages which no other writer known to us 
 could have produced. It was again performed after 
 Addison's death, and, being known to be his, was 
 loudly applauded. 
 
 1 As private secretary. 
 
 2 Budgell was clerk ami uncler-secretary to Addison and 
 afterwards comptroller of the Irish revenue; Johnson says Phil- 
 ips was made only a lottery commissioner and justice of the 
 peace. 
 
 3 Surveyor of the royal stables, but he got several other 
 favors. See Aitkin's Life. 
 
194 MACAU LAY. 
 
 Towards the close of the year 1715, while the 
 Rebellion was still raging in Scotland, 1 Addison 
 published the first number of a paper called "The 
 Freeholder.''' 2 Among his political works "The 
 Freeholder " is entitled to the first place. Even in 
 "The Spectator" there are few serious papers nobler 
 than the character of his friend Lord Somers, aud cer- 
 tainly no satirical papers superior to those in which 
 the Tory fox -hunter is introduced. This character is 
 the original of Squire Western, 3 and is drawn with all 
 Fielding's force, and with a delicacy of which Field- 
 ing was altogether destitute. As none of Addison's 
 works exhibit stronger marks of his genius than "The 
 Freeholder," so none does more honor to his moral 
 character. It is difficult to extol too highly the can- 
 dor and humanity of a political writer whom even the 
 excitement of civil war cannot hurry into unseemly 
 violence. Oxford, it is well known, was then the 
 stronghold of Toryism. The High Street had been 
 repeatedly lined with bayonets in order to keep down 
 the disaffected gownsmen ; and traitors pursued by 
 the messengers of the government had been concealed 
 in the garrets of several colleges. Yet the admoni- 
 tion which, even under such circumstances, Addison 
 addressed to the university, is singularly gentle, re- 
 spectful, and even affectionate; indeed, he could not 
 find it in his heart to deal harshly even with im- 
 aginary persons. His fox-hunter, though ignorant, 
 stupid, and violent, is at heart a good fellow, and 
 is at last reclaimed by the clemency of the King. 
 Steele was dissatisfied with his friend's moderation, 
 
 1 Instigated by the Old Pretender and his followers. 
 
 2 See page 120, note 6. 
 
 8 In Fielding's Tom Jones. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 195 
 
 and, though he acknowledged that "The Freeholder" 
 was excellently written, complained that the ministry 
 played on a lute when it was necessary to blow the 
 trumpet. He accordingly determined to execute a 
 flourish after his own fashion, and tried to rouse the 
 public spirit of the nation by means of a paper called 
 the "Town Talk," which is now as utterly forgotten 
 as his "Englishman," as his "Crisis," as his "Letter 
 to the Bailiff of Stockbridge," as his "Reader;" in 
 short, as everything that he wrote without the help of 
 Addison. 1 
 
 In the same year in which "The Drummer" was 
 acted, and in which the first numbers of "The Free- 
 holder" appeared, the estrangement of Pope and 
 Addison became complete. Addison had from the 
 first seen that Pope was false and malevolent. Pope 
 had discovered that Addison was jealous. The dis- 
 covery was made in a strange manner. Pope had 
 written "The Rape of the Lock," in two cantos, with- 
 out supernatural machinery. These two cantos had 
 been loudly applauded, and by none more loudly than 
 by Addison. Then Pope thought of the sylphs and 
 gnomes, Ariel, Momentilla, Crispissa, and Umbriel, 
 and resolved to interweave the Rosicrucian 2 mythol- 
 
 1 A thoroughly exaggerated statement which will he ohjected 
 to even by persons who are not particularly attracted to Steele. 
 Town Talk ran from December 17, 1714, to February 13, 1715- 
 16. The Reader appeared in 1714 and reached only nine num- 
 bers. The Crisis appeared in 1714 ; the Letter to the Bailiff in 
 1713. Professor Morley has reprinted The Crisis in his Famous 
 Pamphlets (" Universal Library "). 
 
 2 In 1614 there was an anonymous work published in Ger- 
 many witli the avowed object of testing the pretensions of a 
 certain order known as Rosicrucians, which was said to have 
 been founded by Christian Rosenkreutz, in the fifteenth century. 
 
196 MA CAUL AY. 
 
 ogy with the original fabric. He asked Addison's 
 advice. Addison said that the poem as it stood was 
 a delicious little thing, and entreated Pope not to run 
 the risk of marring what was so excellent in trying to 
 mend it. Pope afterwards declared that this insidi- 
 ous counsel first opened his eyes to the baseness of 
 him who gave it. 1 
 
 Now there can be no doubt that Pope's plan was 
 most ingenious, and that he afterwards executed it 
 with great skill and success; but does it necessa- 
 rily follow that Addison's advice was bad? And, if 
 Addison's advice was bad, does it necessarily follow 
 that it was given from bad motives ? If a friend were 
 to ask us whether we would advise him to risk his all 
 in a lottery of which the chances were ten to one 
 against him, we should do our best to dissuade him 
 from running such a risk. Even if he were so lucky 
 as to get the thirty thousand pound prize, we should 
 not admit that we had counseled him ill, and we 
 should certainly think it the height of injustice in 
 him to accuse us of having been actuated by malice. 
 We think Addison's advice good advice. It rested 
 on a sound principle, the result of long and wide ex- 
 perience. The general rule undoubtedly is, that, 
 when a successful work of imagination has been pro- 
 duced, it should not be recast. We cannot at this 
 moment call to mind a single instance in which this 
 rule has been transgressed with happy effect, except 
 
 Their founder was supposed to have got various wonderful 
 secrets (such as the art of making gold, etc.) from the East, 
 and these mysteries his disciples practiced. The whole thing 
 seems to have been a joke, but it was taken seriously and quite a 
 literature pro and con sprang up about it. 
 
 1 Greene, who included Macaulay's essay in his edition of 
 Addison, says that this statement comes from Warburton. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 197 
 
 the instance of "The Rape of the Lock." Tasso re- 
 cast his " Jerusalem." Akensicle l recast his "Pleas- 
 ures of the Imagination " and his "Epistle to Curio." 
 Pope himself, emboldened no doubt by the success 
 with which he had expanded and remodeled "The 
 Rape of the Lock," made the same experiment on 
 "The Dunciad." All these attempts failed. Who 
 was to foresee that Pope would, once in his life, be 
 able to do what he could not himself do twice, and 
 what nobody else has ever done? 
 
 Addison's advice was good; but, had it been bad, 
 why should we pronounce it dishonest ? Scott tells 
 us that one of his best friends predicted the failure 
 of "Waverley." Herder 2 adjured Goethe not to 
 take so unpromising a subject as Faust. Hume tried 
 to dissuade Robertson from writing "The History of 
 Charles the Fifth." Nay, Pope himself was one of 
 those who prophesied that "Cato" would never suc- 
 ceed on the stage, and advised Addison to print it 
 without risking a representation. But Scott, Goethe, 
 Robertson, Addison, had the good sense and generos- 
 ity to give their advisers credit for the best inten- 
 tions. Pope's heart was not of the same kind with 
 theirs. 
 
 In 1715, while he was engaged in translating the 
 "Iliad," he met Addison at a coffee-house. Philips 
 and Budgell were there ; but their sovereign got rid 
 of them, and asked Pope to dine with him alone. 
 After dinner, Addison said that he lay under a dif- 
 
 J Dr. Mark Akensicle (1721-1770), poet and physician, was 
 once much more famous than he is to-day. Smollett satirized 
 him in Peregrine Pickle. 
 
 2 Johann Gottfried von Herder (1744-1803), a celebrated phi- 
 losopher, critic, and poet. 
 
198 MACAU LAY. 
 
 ficulty which he wished to explain. "Tickell," he 
 said, "translated some time ago the first book of the 
 ' Iliad.' I have promised to look it over and correct 
 it. I cannot therefore ask to see yours, for that 
 would be double-dealing." Pope made a civil reply, 
 and begged that his second book might have the 
 advantage of Addison's revision. Addison readily 
 agreed, looked over the second book, and sent it back 
 with warm commendations. 
 
 Tickell's version of the first book appeared soon 
 after this conversation. In the preface, all rivalry 
 was earnestly disclaimed. Tickell declared that he 
 should not go on with the "Iliad." That enterprise 
 he should leave to powers which he admitted to be 
 superior to his own. His only view, he said, in pub- 
 lishing this specimen, was to bespeak the favor of the 
 public to a translation of the "Odyssey " in which he 
 had made some progress. 
 
 Addison, and Addison's devoted followers, pro- 
 nounced both the versions good, but maintained that 
 Tickell's had more of the original. The town gave 
 a decided preference to Pope's. We do not think it 
 worth while to settle such a question of precedence. 
 Neither of the rivals can be said to have translated 
 the "Iliad," unless, indeed, the word "translation" 
 be used in the sense which it bears in the "Midsum- 
 mer Night's Dream." 1 When Bottom makes his 
 appearance with an ass's head instead of his own, 
 Peter Quince exclaims, "Bless thee, Bottom! bless 
 thee! thou art translated." In this sense, undoubt- 
 edly, the readers of either Pope or Tickell may very 
 properly exclaim, "Bless thee, Homer! thou art trans- 
 lated indeed." 2 
 
 1 See Act III. Scene i. line 121. 
 
 2 This clever bit of humorous criticism should not blind the 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 199 
 
 Our readers will, we hope, agree with us in think- 
 ing that no man in Addison's situation could have 
 acted more fairly and kindly, both towards Pope and 
 towards Tickell, than he appears to have done. But 
 an odious suspicion had sprung up in the mind of 
 Pope. He fancied, and he soon firmly believed, that 
 there was a deep conspiracy against his fame and his 
 fortunes. The work on which he had staked his 
 reputation was to be depreciated. The subscription, 
 on which rested his hopes of a competence, was to be 
 defeated. With this view, Addison had made a rival 
 translation; Tickell had consented to father it; and 
 the wits of Button's had united to puff it. 
 
 Is there any external evidence to support this grave 
 accusation? The answer is short. There is abso- 
 lutely none. 
 
 Was there any internal evidence which proved 
 Addison to be the author of this version? Was it 
 a work which Tickell was incapable of producing? 
 Surely not. Tickell was a fellow of a college at Ox- 
 ford, 1 and must be supposed to have been able to con- 
 strue the "Iliad; " and he was a better versifier than 
 his friend. We are not aware that Pope pretended 
 to have discovered any turns of expression peculiar 
 to Addison. Had such turns of expression been dis- 
 covered, they would be sufficiently accounted for by 
 supposing Addison to have corrected his friend's 
 lines, as he owned that he had done. 
 
 Is there anything in the character of the accused 
 persons which makes the accusation probable? We 
 answer confidently, Nothing. Tickell was long after 
 
 student to the real merits of Pope's Homer viewed as a poem 
 per se, not as a translation. 
 1 Queen's College, 
 
200 MACAULAY. 
 
 this time described by Pope himself as a very fair 
 and worthy man. Addison had been, during- many 
 years, before the public. Literary rivals, political 
 opponents, had kept their eyes on him. But neither 
 envy nor faction, in their utmost rage, had ever im- 
 puted to him a single deviation from the laws of honor 
 and of social morality. Had he been, indeed, a man 
 meanly jealous of fame, and capable of stooping to 
 base and wicked arts for- the purpose of injuring his 
 competitors, would his vices have remained latent 
 so long ? He was a writer of tragedy : had he ever 
 injured Rowe? He was a writer of comedy: had 
 he not done ample justice to Congreve, and given 
 valuable help to Steele? He was a pamphleteer: 
 have not his good nature and generosity been acknow- 
 ledged by Swift, his rival in fame and his adversary 
 in politics? 
 
 That Tickell should have been guilty of a villany 
 seems to us highly improbable. That Addison should 
 have been guilty of a villany seems to us highly 
 improbable. But that these two men should have 
 conspired together to commit a villany seems to us 
 improbable in a tenfold degree. All that is known to 
 us of their intercourse tends to prove that it was not 
 the intercourse of two accomplices in crime. These 
 are some of the lines in which Tickell poured forth 
 his sorrow over the coffin of Addison : — 
 
 " Or dost thou warn poor mortals left behind, 
 A task well suited to thy gentle mind ? 
 Oh, if, sometimes thy spotless form descend, 
 To me thine aid, thou guardian genius, lend. 
 When rage misguides me, or when fear alarms, 
 When pain distresses, or when pleasure charms, 
 In silent whisperings purer thoughts impart, 
 And turn from ill a frail and feeble heart ; 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 201 
 
 Lead through the paths thy virtue trod before, 
 Till bliss shall join, nor death can part us more." 1 
 
 In what words, we should like to know, did this 
 guardian genius invite his pupil to join in a plan 
 such as the editor of "The Satirist " would hardly 
 dare to propose to the editor of "The Age "? 2 
 
 We do not accuse Pope of bringing an accusation 
 which he knew to be false. We have not the smallest 
 doubt that he believed it to be true, and the evidence 
 on which he believed it he found in his own bad 
 heart. His own life was one long series of tricks as 
 mean and as malicious as that of which he suspected 
 Addison and Tickell. He was all stiletto and mask. 
 To injure, to insult, and to save himself from the 
 consequences of injury and insult by lying and equiv- 
 ocating, was the habit of his life. He published a 
 lampoon on the Duke of Chandos; 3 he was taxed 
 with it, and he lied and equivocated. He published 
 a lampoon on Aaron Hill ; 4 he was taxed with it, and 
 he lied and equivocated. He published a still fouler 
 lampoon on Lady Mary Wortley Montagu ; 5 he was 
 
 1 See page 217, text and note 1. 
 
 2 Low London papers of Macaulay's day. 
 
 3 See Moral Essays, iv. 99. Pope, in a note to Moral Essays, 
 iii., denied that he meant to ridicule " a worthy nobleman merely 
 for his bad taste." James Bridges, first Duke of Chandos, 
 (1G73-1744). 
 
 4 Aaron Hill (1685-1750) was a dramatist and small poet and 
 manager of the opera house. Pope is supposed to have referred 
 to him in The Dunciad, ii. 295-298. Pope denied the reference, 
 though on the whole his remarks were complimentary, which 
 makes one question Macaulay's use of " lampoon " unless he had 
 another passage in mind. 
 
 5 This probably refers to Moral Essays, ii., where Lady Mary 
 is said to figure as Sappho ; or to the imitation of the Second 
 Satire of Horace's Second Book, lines 49-60. Lady Mary replied 
 
202 MA CAUL AY. 
 
 taxed with it, and lie lied with more than usual 
 effrontery and vehemence. He puffed himself and 
 abused his enemies under feigned names. He robbed 
 himself of his own letters, and then raised the hue 
 and cry after them. Besides his frauds of malignity, 
 of fear, of interest, and of vanity, there were frauds 
 which he seems to have committed from love of fraud 
 alone. He had a habit of stratagem, a pleasure in 
 outwitting all who came near him. Whatever his 
 object might be, the indirect road to it was that which 
 he preferred. For Bolingbroke, Pope undoubtedly 
 felt as much love and veneration as it was in his 
 nature to feel for airy human being; yet Pope was 
 scarcely dead when it v/as discovered that, from no 
 motive except the mere love of artifice, he had been 
 guilty of an act of gross perfidy to Bolingbroke. 1 
 
 Nothing was more natural than that such a man 
 as this should attribute to others that which he felt 
 within himself. A plain, probable, coherent expla- 
 nation is frankly given to him : he is certain that it 
 is all a romance. A line of conduct scrupulously 
 fair, and even friendly, is pursued towards him: he 
 is convinced that it is merely a cover for a vile in- 
 trigue by which he is to be disgraced and ruined. It 
 is vain to ask him for proofs. He has none, and 
 wants none, except those which he carries in his own 
 bosom. 
 
 Whether Pope's malignity at length provoked Ad- 
 dison to retaliate for the first and last time, cannot 
 
 in kind, and so deserves very little sympathy. Pope has ever 
 since been known as " the wicked wasp of Twickenham." 
 
 1 The printing without permission and with alterations certain 
 letters of Bolingbroke's. For all these points about Pope see 
 the Life by Conrthope in the Elwin-Courthope edition. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 203 
 
 now be known with certainty. We have only Pope's 
 story, which runs thus : a pamphlet appeared contain- 
 ing some reflections which stung Pope to the quick. 
 What those reflections were, and whether they were 
 reflections of which he had a right to complain, we 
 have now no means of deciding. The Earl of War- 
 wick, 1 a foolish and vicious lad, who regarded Addi- 
 son with the feelings with which such lads generally 
 regard their best friends, told Pope, truly or falsely, 
 that this pamphlet had been written by Addison's 
 direction. When we consider what a tendency stories 
 have to grow in passing even from one honest man to 
 another honest man, and when we consider that to 
 the name of honest man neither Pope nor the Earl of 
 Warwick had a claim, we are not disposed to attach 
 much importance to this anecdote. 
 
 It is certain, however, that Pope was furious. He 
 had already sketched the character of Atticus in 
 prose. In his anger he turned this prose into the 
 brilliant and energetic lines which everybody knows 
 by heart, or ought to know by heart, and sent them 
 to Addison. 2 One charge which Pope has enforced 
 
 1 Afterwards Addison's step-son. 
 
 2 The lines, first printed in connection with other verses in 
 1723, are 193-214 of the Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot (1735): — 
 
 " Peace to all such ! but were there one whose fires 
 True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires ; 
 Blest with each talent and each art to please, 
 And born to write, converse and live with ease : 
 Should such a man. too fond to rule alone, 
 Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne, 
 View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes, 
 And hate for arts that caused himself to rise ; 
 Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, 
 And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; 
 Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, 
 Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike 
 Alike reserved to blame, or to commend, 
 A timorous foe and a suspicious friend ; 
 
204 MACAULAY. 
 
 with great skill is probably not without foundation. 
 Addison was, we are inclined to believe, too fond of 
 presiding over a circle of humble friends. Of the 
 other imputations which these famous lines are in- 
 tended to convey, scarcely one has ever been proved 
 to be just, and some are certainly false. That Addi- 
 son was not in the habit of "damning with faint 
 praise" appears from innumerable passages in his 
 writings, and from none more than from those in 
 which he mentions Pope. And it is not merely un- 
 just, but ridiculous, to describe a man who made the 
 fortune of almost every one of his intimate friends 
 as "so obliging that he ne'er obliged." 
 
 That Addison felt the sting of Pope's satire keenly, 
 we cannot doubt; that he was conscious of one of the 
 weaknesses with which he was reproached, is highly 
 probable: but his heart, we firmly believe, acquitted 
 him of the gravest part of the accusation. He acted 
 like himself. As a satirist, he was at his own weap- 
 ons more than Pope's match, and he would have 
 been at no loss for topics. A distorted and diseased 
 body, tenanted by a yet more distorted and diseased 
 mind; spite and envy thinly disguised by sentiments 
 as benevolent and noble as those which Sir Peter 
 Teazle admired in Mr. Joseph Surface ; l a feeble, 
 sickly licentiousness; an odious love of filthy and 
 noisome images, — these were things which a genius 
 
 Dreading ev'n fools, by flatterers besieged, 
 And so obliging that he ne'er obliged ; 
 Like Cato, give his little Senate laws, 
 And sit attentive to his own applause, 
 While wits and templars every sentence raise, 
 And wonder with a foolish face of praise : 
 Who but must laugh, if such a man there be ? 
 Who would not weep, if Atticus were he? " 
 
 Characters in Sheridan's School for Scandal. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 205 
 
 less powerful than that to which we owe "The Spec- 
 tator " could easily have held up to the mirth and 
 hatred of mankind. Addison had, moreover, at his 
 command other means of vengeance, which a had man 
 would not have scrupled to use. He was power- 
 ful in the State. Pope was a Catholic, and in those 
 times a minister would have found it easy to harass 
 the most innocent Catholic by innumerable petty 
 vexations. Pope, near twenty years later, said that 
 "through the lenity of the government alone he could 
 live with comfort." "Consider," he exclaimed, "the 
 injury that a man of high rank and credit may do to 
 a private person, under penal laws and many other 
 disadvantages." It is pleasing to reflect that the only 
 revenge which Addison took was to insert in "The 
 Freeholder " l a warm encomium on the translation 
 of the "Iliad," and to exhort all lovers of learning to 
 put down their names as subscribers. There could 
 be no doubt, he said, from the specimens already 
 published, that the masterly hand of Pope would do 
 as much for Homer as Dryden had done for Virgil. 
 From that time to the end of his life, he always 
 treated Pope, by Pope's own acknowledgment, with 
 justice. Friendship was, of course, at an end. 
 
 One reason which induced the Earl of Warwick to 
 play the ignominious part of tale-bearer on this occa- 
 sion may have been his dislike of the marriage which 
 was about to take place between his mother and 
 Addison. The countess dowager, 2 a daughter of the 
 
 1 No. 40. 
 
 2 Charlotte, daughter of Sir Thomas Middleton, married Ed- 
 ward Rich, third Earl of Holland and sixth Earl of Warwick. 
 She had by him a son, Edward Henry Rich (the Earl of War- 
 wick of the text), who died unmarried in 1721. The countess 
 died in 1731, leaving one daughter by Addison. 
 
206 MAC A UL AY. 
 
 old and honorable family of the Middletons of Chirk, 
 a family which in any country but ours would be 
 called noble, resided at Holland House. 1 Addison 
 had, during some years, occupied at Chelsea a small 
 dwelling, once the abode of Nell Gwynn. 2 Chelsea 
 is now a district of London, and Holland House may 
 be called a town residence ; but, in the days of Anne 
 and George I., milkmaids and sportsmen wandered 
 between green hedges, and over fields bright with 
 daisies, from Kensington almost to the shore of the 
 Thames. Addison and Lady Warwick were country 
 neighbors, and became intimate friends. The great wit 
 and scholar tried to allure the young lord from the 
 fashionable amusements of beating watchmen, break- 
 ing windows, and rolling women in hogsheads down 
 Holborn Hill, to the study of letters and the practice of 
 virtue. These well-meant exertions did little good, 
 however, either to the disciple or to the master. Lord 
 Warwick grew up a rake, and Addison fell in love. 
 The mature beauty of the countess has been celebrated 
 by poets 3 in language which, after a very large allow- 
 ance has been made for flattery, would lead us to be- 
 lieve that she was a fine woman ; and her rank doubt- 
 less heightened her attractions. The courtshrp was 
 long. The hopes of the lover appear to have risen and 
 fallen with the fortunes of his party. His attachment 
 was at length matter of such notoriety that, when he 
 visited Ireland for the last time, Rowe addressed some 
 
 1 See Hare's Walks in London ; Macaulay's essay on Lord 
 Holland ; and passages in the Life and Letters. 
 
 2 The famous mistress of Charles II., who died in 1691 at 
 about fifty. 
 
 3 See, for example, the lines by Leonard Welsted, prefixed 
 to Addison's Drummer. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 207 
 
 consolatory verses to the Chloe of Holland House. 
 It strikes us as a little strange that in these verses 
 Addison should be called Lycidas, a name of singu- 
 larly evil omen for a swain just about to cross St. 
 George's Channel. 1 
 
 At length Chloe capitulated. Addison was, indeed, 
 able to treat with her on equal terms. He had reason 
 to expect preferment even higher than that which 
 he had attained. He had inherited the fortune of a 
 brother 2 who died governor of Madras. He had pur- 
 chased an estate in Warwickshire, and had been wel- 
 comed to his domain in very tolerable verse by one 
 of the neighboring squires, the poetical fox-hunter, 
 William Somerville. 3 In August, 1716, the news- 
 papers announced that Joseph Addison, Esq., famous 
 for many excellent works both in verse and prose, 
 had espoused the Countess Dowager of Warwick. 
 
 He now fixed his abode at Holland House, a house 
 which can boast of a greater number of inmates dis- 
 tinguished in political and literary history than any 
 other, private dwelling in England. His portrait still 
 hangs there. The features are pleasing; the com- 
 plexion is remarkably fair : but in the expression we 
 trace rather the gentleness of his disposition than the 
 force and keenness of his intellect. 
 
 Not long after his marriage he reached the height 
 of civil greatness. The Whig government had, dur- 
 ing some time, been torn by internal dissensions. 
 
 1 The reference is, of course, to Milton's Lycidas, which was 
 written in memory of Edward King, who had heen drowned in 
 a voyage to Ireland. 
 
 2 Gulstone Addison. 
 
 8 1G67-1742. He is chiefly remembered for his blank-verse 
 poem The Chase, in which he described his favorite pursuit. 
 
208 MACAULAY. 
 
 Lord Townshencl 1 led one section of the cabinet, 
 Lord Sunderland the other. At length, in the spring 
 of 1717, Sunderland triumphed. Townshend retired 
 from office, and was accompanied by Walpole and 
 Cowper. Sunderland proceeded to reconstruct the 
 ministry, and Addison was appointed secretary of 
 state. It is certain that the seals were pressed upon 
 him, and were at first declined by him. Men equally 
 versed in official business might easily have been 
 found ; and his colleagues knew that they could not 
 expect assistance from him in debate. He owed his 
 elevation to his popularity, to his stainless probity, 
 and to his literary fame. 
 
 But scarcely had Addison entered the cabinet when 
 his health began to fail. From one serious attack he 
 recovered in the autumn; and his recovery was cele- 
 brated in Latin verses, worthy of his own pen, by 
 Vincent Bourne, who was then at Trinity College, 
 Cambridge. A relapse soon took place, and in the 
 following spring Addison was prevented by a severe 
 asthma from discharging the duties of his post. He 
 resigned it, and was succeeded by his friend Craggs, 2 
 a young man whose natural parts, though little im- 
 proved by cultivation, were quick and showy, whose 
 graceful person and winning manners had made him 
 generally acceptable in society, and who, if he had 
 lived, would probably have been the most formidable 
 of all the rivals of Walpole. 
 
 As yet there was no Joseph Hume. 3 The minis- 
 
 1 Charles, Viscount Townshend (1676-1738), Secretary of 
 State at the accession of George I. He was Walpole's brother- 
 in-law, and had a hreach with him later in his career. 
 
 2 James Craggs (died in 1720, aged thirty-five). See his Epi- 
 taph by Pope. 
 
 3 1777-1855 ; a member of Parliament indefatigable in at- 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 209 
 
 ters, therefore, were able to bestow on Addison a 
 retiring pension of fifteen hundred pounds a year. 
 In what form this pension was given, we are not told 
 by the biographers, and have not time to inquire ; but 
 it is certain that Addison did not vacate his seat in 
 the House of Commons. 
 
 Rest of mind and body seemed to have reestab- 
 lished his health, and he thanked God, with cheerful 
 piety, for having set him free both from his office 
 and from his asthma. Many years seemed to be be- 
 fore him ; and he meditated many works, — a tragedy 
 on the death of Socrates, a translation of the Psalms, 
 a treatise on the evidences of Christianity. Of this 
 last performance, a part, which we could well spare, 
 has come down to us. 
 
 But the fatal complaint soon returned, and grad- 
 ually prevailed against all the resources of medicine. 
 It is melancholy to think that the last months of such 
 a life should have been overclouded both by domes- 
 tic and by political vexations. A tradition which 
 began early, which has been generally received, and 
 to which we have nothing to oppose, has represented 
 his wife as an arrogant and imperious woman. It is 
 said that, till his health failed him, he was glad to 
 escape from the countess dowager and her magnificent 
 dining-room, blazing with the gilded devices of the 
 house of Rich, 1 to some tavern where he could enjoy a 
 laugh, a talk about Virgil and Boileau, and a bottle of 
 claret, with the friends of his happier days. All those 
 friends, however, were not left to him. "Sir Richard 
 
 tacking financial abuses and in pushing on reforms of every 
 sort. 
 
 1 That is, Holland House, so called because the Earl of Hol- 
 land, who gave it its name, was Henry Rich, 
 
210 MACAU LAY. 
 
 Steele had been gradually estranged by various causes. 
 Pie considered himself as one who, in evil times, had 
 braved martyrdom for his political principles, and 
 demanded, when the Whig party was triumphant, a 
 large compensation for what he had suffered when it 
 was militant. The Whig leaders took a very differ- 
 ent view of his claims. They thought that he had, 
 by his own petulance and folly, brought them as well 
 as himself into trouble, and, though they did not ab- 
 solutely neglect him, doled out favors to him with a 
 sparing hand. It was natural that he should be angry 
 with them, and especially angry with Addison. But 
 what, above all, seems to have disturbed Sir Richard 
 was the elevation of Tiekell, who at thirty was made 
 by Addison undersecretary of state; while the editor 
 of the "Tatler" and " Spectator, " the author of "The 
 Crisis," the member for Stockbridge, who had been 
 persecuted for firm adherence to the house of Han- 
 over, was, at near fifty, forced, after many solicita- 
 tions and complaints, to content himself with a share 
 in the patent of Drury Lane Theatre. Steele himself 
 says, in his celebrated letter to Congreve, 1 that Addi- 
 son, by his preference of Tiekell, "incurred the warm- 
 est resentment of other gentlemen;" and everything 
 seems to indicate that, of those resentful gentlemen, 
 Steele was himself one. 
 
 While poor Sir Richard was brooding over what 
 he considered as Addison's unkindness, a new cause 
 of quarrel arose. The Whig party, already divided 
 against itself, was rent by a new schism. The cele- 
 brated bill for limiting the number of peers had been 
 brought in. The proud Duke of Somerset, first in 
 
 1 Occasioned by the publication of Tickell's edition of Addi- 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 211 
 
 rank of all the nobles whose religion permitted them 
 to sit in Parliament, was the ostensible author of the 
 measure ; but it was supported, and in truth devised, 
 by the prime minister. 1 
 
 We are satisfied that the bill was most pernicious, 
 and we fear that the motives which induced Sunder- 
 land to frame it were not honorable to him ; but we 
 cannot deny that it was supported by many of the best 
 and wisest men of that age. Nor was this strange. 
 The royal prerogative had, within the memory of the 
 generation then in the vigor of life, been so grossly 
 abused that it was still regarded with a jealousy 
 which, when the peculiar situation of the house of 
 Brunswick 2 is considered, may perhaps be called 
 immoderate. The particular prerogative of creating 
 peers had, in the opinion of the Whigs, been grossly 
 abused by Queen Anne's last ministry ; 3 and even 
 the Tories admitted that her Majesty, in swamping, 
 as it has since been called, the Upper House, had 
 done what only an extreme case could justify. The 
 theory of the English Constitution, according to many 
 high authorities, was, that three independent powers 
 — the sovereign, the nobilit}^, and the commons — 
 ought constantly to act as checks on each other. If 
 this theory were sound, it seemed to follow that to 
 put one of these powers under the absolute control of 
 the other two was absurd. But, if the number of 
 peers were unlimited, it could not well be denied that 
 the Upper House was under the absolute control of 
 
 1 Macaulay refers to Lord Sunderland, who was in power 
 with Lord Stanhope (1719). 
 
 2 That is, of Hanover. George I. was Elector of Brunswick- 
 Liineburg. 
 
 3 Twelve Tory peers had been created in December, 1711, to 
 counterbalance the Whig majority in the House of Lords. 
 
212 MACAULAY. 
 
 the Crown and the Commons, and was indebted only 
 to their moderation for any power which it might be 
 suffered to retain. 
 
 Steele took part with the Opposition, Addison with 
 the Ministers. Steele, in a paper called ""The Ple- 
 beian," 1 vehemently attacked the bill. Sunderland 
 called for help on Addison, and Addison obeyed the 
 call. In a paper called "The Old Whig," 2 he an- 
 swered, and indeed refuted, Steele's arguments. It 
 seems to us that the premises of both the controver- 
 sialists were unsound; that on those premises Addison 
 reasoned well and Steele ill; and that consequently 
 Addison brought out a false conclusion, while Steele 
 blundered upon the truth. In style, in wit, and in 
 politeness Addison maintained his superiority, though 
 "The Old Whig" is by no means one of his happiest 
 performances. 
 
 At first, both the anonymous opponents observed 
 the laws of propriety. But at length Steele so far 
 forgot himself as to throw an odious imputation on 
 the morals of the chiefs of the administration. Addi- 
 son replied with severity, but, in our opinion, with 
 less severity than was due to so grave an offense 
 against morality and decorum; nor did he, in his just 
 anger, forget for a moment the laws of good taste and 
 good breeding. One calumny which has been often 
 repeated, and never yet contradicted, it is our duty 
 to expose. It is asserted in the "Biographia Bri- 
 tannica " that Addison designated Steele as "little 
 Dicky." This assertion was repeated by Johnson, 
 who had never seen "The Old Whig" and was there - 
 
 1 Begun March 14, 1718-19, four numbers published. 
 
 2 Begun Thursday, March 19, 1718-19, only two numbers 
 published. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 213 
 
 fore excusable. It has also been repeated by Miss 
 Aikin, who has seen "The Old Whig," and for whom, 
 therefore, there is less excuse. Now, it is true that 
 the words "little Dicky" occur in "The Old Whig," 
 and that Steele's name was Richard. It is equally 
 tnie that the words "little Isaac" occur in "The Du- 
 enna," 1 and that Newton's name was Isaac. But we 
 confidently affirm that Addison's little Dicky had no 
 more to do with Steele than Sheridan's little Isaac 
 with Newton. If we apply the words "little Dicky" 
 to Steele, we deprive a very lively and ingenious pas- 
 sage, not only of all its wit, but of all its meaning. 
 Little Dicky was the nickname of Henry Norris, 2 an 
 actor of remarkably small stature but of great humor, 
 who played the usurer Gomez, then a most popular 
 part, in Dryden's "Spanish Friar." 
 
 The merited reproof which Steele had received, 
 though softened by some kind and courteous expres- 
 sions, galled him bitterly. He replied with little 
 force and great acrimony, but no rejoinder appeared. 
 Addison was fast hastening to his grave, and had, 
 we may well suppose, little disposition to prosecute a 
 quarrel with an old friend. His complaint had ter- 
 minated in dropsy. He bore up long and manfully; 
 but at length he abandoned all hope, dismissed his 
 physicians, and calmly prepared himself to die. 
 
 His works he intrusted to the care of Tickell, 3 and 
 dedicated them, a very few days before his death, to 
 Craggs, in a letter written with the sweet and grace- 
 
 1 A comic opera (1775) by Sheridan. 
 
 2 Died 1733. He was a good comedian, and was known as 
 " Jubilee Dicky," from his impersonation of a character in Far- 
 quhar's Constant Couple. 
 
 8 Who edited them in 1721. Jhe letter to Craggs was pre- 
 fixed to this edition. 
 
214 MA CAUL AY. 
 
 ful eloquence of a Saturday's "Spectator." In this 
 his last composition he alluded to his approaching 
 end in words so manly, so cheerful, and so tender 
 that it is difficult to read them without tears. At the 
 same time, he earnestly recommended the interests of 
 Tickell to the care of Craggs. 
 
 Within a few hours of the time at which this dedi- 
 cation was written, Addison sent to beg Gay, 1 who 
 was then living by his wits about town, to come to 
 Holland House. Gay went, and was received with 
 great kindness. To his amazement, his forgiveness 
 was implored by the dying man. Poor Gay, the 
 most good-natured and simple of mankind, could not 
 imagine what he had to forgive. There was, how- 
 ever, some wrong, the remembrance of which weighed 
 on Addison's mind, and which he declared himself 
 anxious to repair. He was in a state of extreme ex- 
 haustion, and the parting was doubtless a friendly 
 one on both sides. Gay supposed that some plan 
 to serve him had been in agitation at court, and 
 had been frustrated by Addison's influence. Nor is 
 this improbable. Gay had paid assiduous court to 
 the royal family. But in the Queen's days he had 
 been the eulogist of Bolingbroke, and was still con- 
 nected with many Tories. It is not strange that Ad- 
 dison, while heated by conflict, should have thought 
 himself justified in obstructing the preferment of one 
 whom he might regard as a political enemy. Neither 
 is it strange that, when reviewing his whole life and 
 earnestly scrutinizing all his motives, he should think 
 that he had acted an unkind and ungenerous part in 
 using his power against a distressed man of letters 
 who was as harmless and as helpless as a child. 
 1 See the essay on Johnson, page 13, note 1. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 215 
 
 One inference may be drawn from this anecdote. 
 It appears that Addison, on his death-bed, called him- 
 self to a strict account, and was not at ease till he 
 had asked pardon for an injury which it was not even 
 suspected that he had committed, — for an injury which 
 would have caused disquiet only to a very tender con- 
 science. Is it not, then, reasonable to infer that, if 
 he had really been guilty of forming- a base conspiracy 
 against the fame and fortunes of a rival, he would 
 have expressed some remorse for so serious a crime? 
 But it is unnecessary to multiply arguments and evi- 
 dence for the defense when there is neither argument 
 nor evidence for the accusation. 
 
 The last moments of Addison were perfectly se- 
 rene. His interview with his son-in-law is universally 
 known. "See," he said, "how a Christian can die." 
 The piety of Addison was, in truth, of a singularly 
 cheerful character. The feeling which predominates 
 in all his devotional writings is gratitude. God was 
 to him the all-wise and all-powerful Friend who had 
 watched over his cradle with more than maternal ten- 
 derness; who had listened to his cries before they 
 could form themselves in prayer; who had preserved 
 his youth from the snares of vice; who had made his 
 cup run over with worldly blessings ; who had doubled 
 the value of those blessings b}* - bestowing a thankful 
 heart to enjoy them, and dear friends to partake 
 them; who had rebuked the waves of the Ligurian 
 gulf, had purified the autumnal air of the Campagna, 
 and had restrained the avalanches of Mont Cenis. 
 Of the Psalms, his favorite was that which represents 
 the Ruler of all thing's under the endearing' image of 
 a shepherd whose crook guides the flock safe through 
 gloomy and desolate glens to meadows well watered 
 
216 MACAULAY. 
 
 and rich with herbage. 1 On that goodness to which 
 he ascribed all the happiness of his life he relied in 
 the hour of death with the love which caste th out 
 fear. He died on the 17th of June, 1719. He had 
 just entered on his forty-eighth year. 
 
 His body lay in state in the Jerusalem Chamber, 2 
 and was borne thence to the Abbey at dead of night. 
 The choir sang a funeral hymn. Bishop Atterbury, 3 
 one of those Tories who had loved and honored the 
 most accomplished of the Whigs, met the corpse, and 
 led the procession by torchlight round the shrine of 
 St. Edward 4 and the graves of the Plantagenets to 
 the chapel of Henry VII. On the north side of that 
 chapel, in the vault of the house of Albemarle, 5 the 
 coffin of Addison lies next to the coffin of Montague. 
 Yet a few months, and the same mourners passed 
 again along the same aisle. The same sad anthem 
 was again chanted. The same vault was again opened, 
 and the coffin of Craggs was placed close to the coffin 
 of Addison. 
 
 Many tributes were paid to the memory of Addi- 
 son, but one alone is now remembered. Tickell be- 
 wailed his friend in an elegy which would do honor 
 
 1 Psalm twenty-third, which Addison versified in The Spectator, 
 No. 441. 
 
 2 See Hare's Walks in London for this noted chamber in 
 Westminster Abbey, which perhaps gets its name from its tap- 
 estry, which described the history of Jerusalem. 
 
 3 Francis Atterbury (1662-1732), Bishop of Rochester, noted 
 for his wit and learning and for his zeal for the Jacobite cause, 
 which led to his being exiled to France. See Macaulay's essay 
 on him. 
 
 4 The Confessor (1004-1066). 
 
 5 George Monk (1608-1670), first Duke of Albemarle, promi- 
 nent at the Restoration, was buried here. 
 
THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF ADDISON. 217 
 
 to the greatest name in our literature, and which 
 unites the energy and magnificence of Dryden to the 
 tenderness and purity of Cowper. 1 This fine poem 
 was prefixed to a superb edition of Addison's works 
 which was published in 1721 by subscription. The 
 names of the subscribers proved how widely his fame 
 had been spread. That his countrymen should be 
 eager to possess his writings, even in a costly form, 
 is not wonderful; but it is wonderful that, though 
 English literature was then little studied on the Con- 
 tinent, Spanish grandees, Italian prelates, marshals 
 of France should be found in the list. Among the 
 most remarkable names are those of the Queen of 
 Sweden, of Prince Eugene, of the Grand Duke of 
 Tuscany, of the Dukes of Parma, Modena, and Gnas- 
 talla, 2 of the Doge of Genoa, of the Regent Orleans, 3 
 and of Cardinal Dubois. We ought to add that this 
 edition, though eminently beautiful, is in some impor- 
 tant points defective; nor, indeed, do we yet possess 
 a complete collection of Addison's writings. 
 
 It is strange that neither his opulent and noble 
 widow, nor any of his powerful and attached friends, 
 should have thought of placing even a simple tablet, 
 
 1 William Cowper (1731-1800), the author of The Task, 
 whose lines to the memory of his mother on the receipt of her 
 picture were in Macaulay's mind when he wrote his rather ex- 
 travagant praise of Tickell's elegy. Dryden's magnificence may 
 be seen in certain stanzas of his Ode in memory of Mistress 
 Anne Killigrew, but will be looked for in vain in Tickell's lines, 
 excellent though they be. 
 
 2 All in northern Italy. 
 
 8 Philippe, Duke of Orleans (1674-1723), Regent of France 
 during the minority of Louis XV. His court was noted for its 
 debaucheries. Cardinal Guillaume Dubois (1656-17L ? 3) was a 
 famous minister of the same period. See Perkins's France under 
 the Regency. 
 
218 MACAU LAY. 
 
 inscribed with his name, on the walls of the Abbey. 
 It was not till three generations had laughed and wept 
 over his pages that the omission was supplied by the 
 public veneration. At length, in our own time, his 
 image, skillfully graven, appeared in Poets' Corner. 
 It represents him, as we can conceive him, — clad in 
 his dressing-gown and freed from his wig, — step- 
 ping from his parlor at Chelsea into his trim little 
 garden, with the account of "The Everlasting Club," 
 or "The Loves of Hilpa and Shalum," just finished 
 for the next day's "Spectator," in his hand. Such 
 a mark of national respect was due to the unsullied 
 statesman, to the accomplished scholar, to the master 
 of pure English eloquence, to the consummate painter 
 of life and manners. It was due, above all, to the 
 great satirist who alone knew how to use ridicule 
 without abusing it, who, without inflicting a wound, 
 effected a great social reform, and who reconciled wit 
 and virtue, after a long and disastrous separation, 
 during which wit had been led astray by profligacy, 
 and virtue by fanaticism. 
 
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