July 26, 2025 • 19 mins
Delve into the life and legacy of Joseph Addison (1672-1719), a renowned English essayist, poet, playwright, and politician. Best known for his contribution to The Spectator magazine alongside Richard Steele, Addisons remarkable life is brought to the fore in this engaging narrative. Explore the world of this gentle soul who managed to maintain his gentlemanly demeanor amidst the harsh world of political and literary rivalries. Commemorate the man who, through his persona in the Spectator, is loved by his contemporaries and continues to be respected by generations to come. This summary is brought to you by Pamela Nagami, M.D.
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Section three of Life and Writings of Addison by Thomas
Babbington Macaulay. This librovox recording is in the public domain.
Read by Pamelinagami Part three. 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
(00:23):
sycophant for the first and last time? Nor was Bollo'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. Boillo
(00:46):
also thought it probable that in the best modern Latin,
a writer of the Augustine age would have detected ludicrous improprieties.
And who can think otherwise? What modern scholar can honestly
that he sees the smallest impurity in the style of Livy?
Yet is it not certain that in the style of Livy, Palio,
(01:08):
whose taste had been formed on the banks of the Tiber,
detected the inelegant idiom of the poe. Has any modern
scholar understood Latin better than Frederic the Great understood French.
Yet is it not notorious that Frederic the Great, after reading, speaking,
writing French and nothing but French, during more than half
(01:30):
a century, after unlearning his mother tongue, in order to
learn French, after living familiarly 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
(01:52):
that Erasmus and Fracastorius wrote Latin as well as doctor
Robertson and Sir Walter Scott wrote English? And are there
not in the Dissertation on India, the last of doctor
Robertson's works in Waverley in Marmion scotticisms at which a
London apprentice would laugh. But does it follow because we
(02:15):
think thus that we can find nothing to admire in
the noble alchayics of Gray or in the playful ellegiacs
of Vincent Borne. Surely not, nor was Boillo so ignorant
or tasteless as to be incapable of appreciating good modern Latin.
In the very letter to which Johnson alludes Bralo says
(02:36):
nicoie paburon cagouvoi parla blame le vere Latin, couvu maveonvoyer
don de voilustre academisien jiulais trouve forbau adina di vida
ad sannazar menon padora se de vergill. Several poems in
(02:57):
modern Latin have been praised by Boilot quite as liberally
as it was his habit to praise anything. He says,
for example, of peer Fragier's epigrams, that Catullus seems to
have come to life again. But the best proof that
Boilo did not feel the undiscerning contempt for modern Latin
verses which has been imputed to him is that he
(03:20):
wrote and published Latin verses in several meters. 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 quite numerous itterum
may balbutie latinas longue alpes quitrinatum de patre sicambro musayubes.
(03:48):
For these reasons we feel assured that the praise which
Boilo bestowed on the Machinai gesticulantes and the Guerineau Pigmyomachia
was sincerely 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
(04:11):
theme much and well, indeed, as his young hearer thought
incomparably well. Boileau had undoubtedly some of the qualities 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
(04:35):
style abstracted from the ideas of which style as the garb,
his taste was 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
(04:57):
is easy, we think, to discover in the spectation and
the guardian 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 the second of
(05:19):
the name, King of Spain, died and bequeathed his dominions
to Philip Ducamanjoux, a younger son of the Dauphin. The
King of France, and direct violation of his engagements both
with Great Britain and with the States General, accepted the
bequest on behalf of his grandson. The House of Bourbon
(05:42):
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 destined to expiate the perfidy of
their sovereign, went mad with pride and delight. Every man
(06:03):
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 nation in the world is
now worse than ever. Sick of the arrogant exultation of
the Parisians, and probably foreseeing that the peace between France
(06:24):
and England could not be of long duration. He set
off for Italy in December seventeen hundred. He embarked at Marseilles.
As he glided along the Ligurian coast, he was delighted
by the sight of myrtles and olive trees, which retained
their verdure under the winter solstice. Soon, however, he encountered
(06:45):
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 meantime fortified himself against the
terrors of death with devotions of a very different kind.
How strong an impression this perilous voyage made on him
(07:07):
appears from the ode how are Thy Servants Blessed, O Lord,
which was long after published in the Spectator. After some
days of discomfort and danger, Addison was glad to land
at Savona 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
(07:31):
own doge and by the nobles whose names were inscribed
on her Book of gold, Addison made a short stay.
He admired the narrow streets overhung by long lines of
towering palaces, the walls rich with frescoes, the gorgeous Temple
of the Annunciation, and the tapestries whereon were recorded the
(07:51):
long glories of the House of Doria. Thence he hastened
on to Milan, where he contemplated the Gothic magnificence of
the King Cathedral with more wonder than pleasure. He passed
Lake Banachus while a gale was blowing, and saw the
waves raging as they raged when Virgil looked upon them.
(08:12):
At Venice, then the gayest spot in Europe, the traveler
spent the Carnival, the gayest season of the year, in
the midst of masks, dances and serenades. Here he was
at once diverted and provoked by the absurd dramatic pieces
which then disgraced the Italian stage. To one of those pieces, however,
(08:34):
he was indebted 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. He appeared seated in his library,
(08:55):
a dagger in his hand, a Plutarch and a tasso
before him, and in this position he pronounced the soliloquy
before he struck the blow. We are surprised that, so
remarkable the circumstances, this should have escaped the notice of
all Addison's biographers. There cannot we conceive be the smallest
(09:16):
doubt that this scene, in spite of its absurdities and anachronisms,
struck the traveler'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
(09:37):
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, which led to the secluded town,
(10:01):
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 exaltation of a wig, that the rude mountain
track which formed the territory of the Republic swarmed with
(10:24):
an honest, healthy, 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 Saint Peter's and of the Pantheon.
(10:46):
His haste is the more extraordinary because the Holy Week
was close at hand. He has given us no hint
which can enable us 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. Perhaps,
traveling as he did at the charge of a government
(11:08):
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 right 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,
(11:33):
he turned his back on the most august and affecting
ceremony which is known among men, and posted along the
Appian Way to Naples. Naples was then destitute of what
are now perhaps its chief attractions. The lovely bay and
the awful mountains were indeed there, but a farmhouse stood
on the theater of Herculaneum, and rows of vines grew
(11:55):
over the streets of Pompeii. The temples of Peis 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. Those
situated within a few hours journey of a great capital,
(12:15):
where Salvatore had not long before painted, and where Vico
was then lecturing, those noble remains were as little known
in Europe as the ruined cities overgrown by the forests
of Yucatan. What was to be seen at Naples, Addison
saw he climbed Vesuvius explored the tunnel of Posilipo, and
(12:38):
wandered among the vines and almond trees of Cuprae. But
neither the wonders of nature nor those of art could
so occupy his attention as to prevent him from noticing,
though cursorily, the abuses of the government and the misery
of the people. The Great Kingdom, which had just descended
(12:58):
to Phillip the fifth, was in a state of paralytic dotage.
Even Castile and Arragone were sunk in wretchedness. Yet compared
with the Italian dependencies of the Spanish crown, Castillo and
Arragone might be called prosperous. It is clear that all
the observations which Addison made in Italy tended to confirm
(13:20):
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, the Tory
fox Hunter asks what traveling is good for except to
teach a man to jabber French and to talk against
(13:41):
passive obedience. From Naples, Addison returned to Rome by sea
along the coast which his favorite Virgil had celebrated the Felucca,
passed the headland, where the ore and trumpet were placed
by the Trojan adventurers on the tomb of Miscenis, and
anchored at night under the shelter of the fabled promontory
(14:01):
of Circe. The voyage ended in the Tiber, still overhung
with dark verdure and still turbid with yellow sand as
when it met the eyes of Eneas. 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 Augustine age, all who could make their
(14:24):
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.
(14:48):
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 long
the mistress of the world. He then journeyed northward, passed
through Siena, and for a moment forgot his prejudices in
favor of classic architecture as he looked on the magnificent
(15:10):
cathedral at Florence. He spent some days with the Duke
of Shrewsbury, who Cloyd with the pleasures of ambition and
impatient of its pains, Fearing both parties and loving neither,
had determined to hide in an Italian retreat talents and accomplishments, which,
if they had been united with fixed principles and civil courage,
(15:32):
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 delightful 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.
(15:53):
Addison gave some time to Florence, and especially to the
sculptures in the museum, which he preferred even to those
of the at 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. Ugene had already
(16:13):
descended from the Rician Alps to dispute with Katana, the
rich plain of Lombardy. The faithless ruler of Savoy was
still reckoned among the allies of Louis. England had not
yet actually declared war against France, but Manchester had left Paris,
and the negotiations which produced the Grand Alliance against the
(16:34):
House of Bourbon were in progress. Under such circumstances, it
was desirable for an English traveler to reach neutral ground
without delay. Addison resolved to cross Monseignie. It was December,
and the road was very different from that which now
reminds the stranger of the power and genius of Napoleon.
(16:56):
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 hore alpine hills.
It was in the midst of the eternal snow that
he composed the epistle to his friend Montague, now Lord Halifax.
(17:20):
That epistle, once widely renowned, 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
Addison's fame. It is, however, decidedly superior to any English
composition which he had previously published. Nay, we think it
(17:41):
quite as good as any poem and heroic meter which
appeared during the interval between the death of Dryden and
the publication of the Essay on Criticism. It contains passages
as good as the second rate passages of Pope, and
would have added to the reputation of parnell or prior.
But whatever be the literary merits or defects of the epistle,
(18:05):
it undoubtedly does honor to the principles 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 dismissed the impeachment, had, as it seemed, little
chance of ever again filling high office. The epistle, written
(18:29):
at such a time, as one among many proofs that
there was no mixture of cowardice or meanness in the
suavity and moderation which distinguished 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
(18:50):
Secretary of State. Manchester exerted himself to serve as 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
(19:12):
his prospects were for a time darkened by the death
of William the third and of Section three
Section three of Life and Writings of Addison by Thomas
Babbington Macaulay. This librovox recording is in the public domain.
Read by Pamelinagami Part three. 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
(00:23):
sycophant for the first and last time? Nor was Bollo'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. Boillo
(00:46):
also thought it probable that in the best modern Latin,
a writer of the Augustine age would have detected ludicrous improprieties.
And who can think otherwise? What modern scholar can honestly
that he sees the smallest impurity in the style of Livy?
Yet is it not certain that in the style of Livy, Palio,
(01:08):
whose taste had been formed on the banks of the Tiber,
detected the inelegant idiom of the poe. Has any modern
scholar understood Latin better than Frederic the Great understood French.
Yet is it not notorious that Frederic the Great, after reading, speaking,
writing French and nothing but French, during more than half
(01:30):
a century, after unlearning his mother tongue, in order to
learn French, after living familiarly 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
(01:52):
that Erasmus and Fracastorius wrote Latin as well as doctor
Robertson and Sir Walter Scott wrote English? And are there
not in the Dissertation on India, the last of doctor
Robertson's works in Waverley in Marmion scotticisms at which a
London apprentice would laugh. But does it follow because we
(02:15):
think thus that we can find nothing to admire in
the noble alchayics of Gray or in the playful ellegiacs
of Vincent Borne. Surely not, nor was Boillo so ignorant
or tasteless as to be incapable of appreciating good modern Latin.
In the very letter to which Johnson alludes Bralo says
(02:36):
nicoie paburon cagouvoi parla blame le vere Latin, couvu maveonvoyer
don de voilustre academisien jiulais trouve forbau adina di vida
ad sannazar menon padora se de vergill. Several poems in
(02:57):
modern Latin have been praised by Boilot quite as liberally
as it was his habit to praise anything. He says,
for example, of peer Fragier's epigrams, that Catullus seems to
have come to life again. But the best proof that
Boilo did not feel the undiscerning contempt for modern Latin
verses which has been imputed to him is that he
(03:20):
wrote and published Latin verses in several meters. 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 quite numerous itterum
may balbutie latinas longue alpes quitrinatum de patre sicambro musayubes.
(03:48):
For these reasons we feel assured that the praise which
Boilo bestowed on the Machinai gesticulantes and the Guerineau Pigmyomachia
was sincerely 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
(04:11):
theme much and well, indeed, as his young hearer thought
incomparably well. Boileau had undoubtedly some of the qualities 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
(04:35):
style abstracted from the ideas of which style as the garb,
his taste was 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
(04:57):
is easy, we think, to discover in the spectation and
the guardian 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 the second of
(05:19):
the name, King of Spain, died and bequeathed his dominions
to Philip Ducamanjoux, a younger son of the Dauphin. The
King of France, and direct violation of his engagements both
with Great Britain and with the States General, accepted the
bequest on behalf of his grandson. The House of Bourbon
(05:42):
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 destined to expiate the perfidy of
their sovereign, went mad with pride and delight. Every man
(06:03):
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 nation in the world is
now worse than ever. Sick of the arrogant exultation of
the Parisians, and probably foreseeing that the peace between France
(06:24):
and England could not be of long duration. He set
off for Italy in December seventeen hundred. He embarked at Marseilles.
As he glided along the Ligurian coast, he was delighted
by the sight of myrtles and olive trees, which retained
their verdure under the winter solstice. Soon, however, he encountered
(06:45):
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 meantime fortified himself against the
terrors of death with devotions of a very different kind.
How strong an impression this perilous voyage made on him
(07:07):
appears from the ode how are Thy Servants Blessed, O Lord,
which was long after published in the Spectator. After some
days of discomfort and danger, Addison was glad to land
at Savona 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
(07:31):
own doge and by the nobles whose names were inscribed
on her Book of gold, Addison made a short stay.
He admired the narrow streets overhung by long lines of
towering palaces, the walls rich with frescoes, the gorgeous Temple
of the Annunciation, and the tapestries whereon were recorded the
(07:51):
long glories of the House of Doria. Thence he hastened
on to Milan, where he contemplated the Gothic magnificence of
the King Cathedral with more wonder than pleasure. He passed
Lake Banachus while a gale was blowing, and saw the
waves raging as they raged when Virgil looked upon them.
(08:12):
At Venice, then the gayest spot in Europe, the traveler
spent the Carnival, the gayest season of the year, in
the midst of masks, dances and serenades. Here he was
at once diverted and provoked by the absurd dramatic pieces
which then disgraced the Italian stage. To one of those pieces, however,
(08:34):
he was indebted 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. He appeared seated in his library,
(08:55):
a dagger in his hand, a Plutarch and a tasso
before him, and in this position he pronounced the soliloquy
before he struck the blow. We are surprised that, so
remarkable the circumstances, this should have escaped the notice of
all Addison's biographers. There cannot we conceive be the smallest
(09:16):
doubt that this scene, in spite of its absurdities and anachronisms,
struck the traveler'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
(09:37):
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, which led to the secluded town,
(10:01):
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 exaltation of a wig, that the rude mountain
track which formed the territory of the Republic swarmed with
(10:24):
an honest, healthy, 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 Saint Peter's and of the Pantheon.
(10:46):
His haste is the more extraordinary because the Holy Week
was close at hand. He has given us no hint
which can enable us 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. Perhaps,
traveling as he did at the charge of a government
(11:08):
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 right 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,
(11:33):
he turned his back on the most august and affecting
ceremony which is known among men, and posted along the
Appian Way to Naples. Naples was then destitute of what
are now perhaps its chief attractions. The lovely bay and
the awful mountains were indeed there, but a farmhouse stood
on the theater of Herculaneum, and rows of vines grew
(11:55):
over the streets of Pompeii. The temples of Peis 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. Those
situated within a few hours journey of a great capital,
(12:15):
where Salvatore had not long before painted, and where Vico
was then lecturing, those noble remains were as little known
in Europe as the ruined cities overgrown by the forests
of Yucatan. What was to be seen at Naples, Addison
saw he climbed Vesuvius explored the tunnel of Posilipo, and
(12:38):
wandered among the vines and almond trees of Cuprae. But
neither the wonders of nature nor those of art could
so occupy his attention as to prevent him from noticing,
though cursorily, the abuses of the government and the misery
of the people. The Great Kingdom, which had just descended
(12:58):
to Phillip the fifth, was in a state of paralytic dotage.
Even Castile and Arragone were sunk in wretchedness. Yet compared
with the Italian dependencies of the Spanish crown, Castillo and
Arragone might be called prosperous. It is clear that all
the observations which Addison made in Italy tended to confirm
(13:20):
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, the Tory
fox Hunter asks what traveling is good for except to
teach a man to jabber French and to talk against
(13:41):
passive obedience. From Naples, Addison returned to Rome by sea
along the coast which his favorite Virgil had celebrated the Felucca,
passed the headland, where the ore and trumpet were placed
by the Trojan adventurers on the tomb of Miscenis, and
anchored at night under the shelter of the fabled promontory
(14:01):
of Circe. The voyage ended in the Tiber, still overhung
with dark verdure and still turbid with yellow sand as
when it met the eyes of Eneas. 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 Augustine age, all who could make their
(14:24):
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.
(14:48):
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 long
the mistress of the world. He then journeyed northward, passed
through Siena, and for a moment forgot his prejudices in
favor of classic architecture as he looked on the magnificent
(15:10):
cathedral at Florence. He spent some days with the Duke
of Shrewsbury, who Cloyd with the pleasures of ambition and
impatient of its pains, Fearing both parties and loving neither,
had determined to hide in an Italian retreat talents and accomplishments, which,
if they had been united with fixed principles and civil courage,
(15:32):
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 delightful 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.
(15:53):
Addison gave some time to Florence, and especially to the
sculptures in the museum, which he preferred even to those
of the at 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. Ugene had already
(16:13):
descended from the Rician Alps to dispute with Katana, the
rich plain of Lombardy. The faithless ruler of Savoy was
still reckoned among the allies of Louis. England had not
yet actually declared war against France, but Manchester had left Paris,
and the negotiations which produced the Grand Alliance against the
(16:34):
House of Bourbon were in progress. Under such circumstances, it
was desirable for an English traveler to reach neutral ground
without delay. Addison resolved to cross Monseignie. It was December,
and the road was very different from that which now
reminds the stranger of the power and genius of Napoleon.
(16:56):
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 hore alpine hills.
It was in the midst of the eternal snow that
he composed the epistle to his friend Montague, now Lord Halifax.
(17:20):
That epistle, once widely renowned, 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
Addison's fame. It is, however, decidedly superior to any English
composition which he had previously published. Nay, we think it
(17:41):
quite as good as any poem and heroic meter which
appeared during the interval between the death of Dryden and
the publication of the Essay on Criticism. It contains passages
as good as the second rate passages of Pope, and
would have added to the reputation of parnell or prior.
But whatever be the literary merits or defects of the epistle,
(18:05):
it undoubtedly does honor to the principles 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 dismissed the impeachment, had, as it seemed, little
chance of ever again filling high office. The epistle, written
(18:29):
at such a time, as one among many proofs that
there was no mixture of cowardice or meanness in the
suavity and moderation which distinguished 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
(18:50):
Secretary of State. Manchester exerted himself to serve as 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
(19:12):
his prospects were for a time darkened by the death
of William the third and of Section three
Popular Podcasts
Stuff You Should Know
If you've ever wanted to know about champagne, satanism, the Stonewall Uprising, chaos theory, LSD, El Nino, true crime and Rosa Parks, then look no further. Josh and Chuck have you covered.
Dateline NBC
Current and classic episodes, featuring compelling true-crime mysteries, powerful documentaries and in-depth investigations. Follow now to get the latest episodes of Dateline NBC completely free, or subscribe to Dateline Premium for ad-free listening and exclusive bonus content: DatelinePremium.com
New Heights with Jason & Travis Kelce
Football’s funniest family duo — Jason Kelce of the Philadelphia Eagles and Travis Kelce of the Kansas City Chiefs — team up to provide next-level access to life in the league as it unfolds. The two brothers and Super Bowl champions drop weekly insights about the weekly slate of games and share their INSIDE perspectives on trending NFL news and sports headlines. They also endlessly rag on each other as brothers do, chat the latest in pop culture and welcome some very popular and well-known friends to chat with them. Check out new episodes every Wednesday. Follow New Heights on the Wondery App, YouTube or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to new episodes early and ad-free, and get exclusive content on Wondery+. Join Wondery+ in the Wondery App, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. And join our new membership for a unique fan experience by going to the New Heights YouTube channel now!