July 26, 2025 • 22 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.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Section seven of Life and Writings of Addison by Thomas
Babington Macaulay. This librovox recording is in the public domain
read by Pamelinagami. Perhaps the best way of describing Addison's
peculiar pleasantry is to compare it with the pleasantry of
some other great satirist. The three most eminent masters of
(00:23):
the art of ridicule during the eighteenth century were, we
conceive Addison, Swift, and Voltaire. Which of the three had
the greatest power of moving laughter may be questioned, but
each of them, within his own domain, was supreme. Voltaire
is the prince of buffoons. His merriment is without disguise
(00:43):
or restraint. He gambols, he grins, he shakes his sides,
he points the finger, he turns up the nose, he
shoots out the tongue. The manner of Swift is the
very opposite to this. He moves laughter, but never he
appears in his works such as he appeared in society.
(01:06):
All the company are convulsed in merriment, while the Dean,
the author of all the mirth, preserves an invincible gravity
and even sourness of aspect, and gives utterance to the
most eccentric and ludicrous fancies with the air of a
man reading the combination's service. The manner of Addison is
(01:28):
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 countenance while laughing inly, but preserves a look peculiarly
his own, a look of demure serenity, disturbed only by
(01:49):
an arch sparkle of the eye, an almost imperceptible elevation
of the brow, an almost imperceptible curl of the lip.
Is never that either of a jack pudding or of
a cynic. It is that of a gentleman, in whom
the quickest sense of the ridiculous is constantly tempered by
(02:10):
good nature and good breeding. We own that the humor
of Addison is, in our opinion, of a more delicious
flavor than the humor of either 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
(02:31):
Koye to ponsov is Voltaire all over, and imposed during
a long time on the academicians of Paris. There are
passages in are buck Nutt's satirical works which we at
least cannot distinguish from Swift's best writing. But of the
many eminent men who have made Addison their model, though
(02:52):
many have copied his mere diction with happy effect, none
has been able to catch the tone of his pleasantry
in the word world, in the Connoisseur, in the Mirror,
in the Lounger. There are numerous papers written in obvious
imitation of his tattlers and spectators. Most of these papers
have some merit, many are very lively and amusing, But
(03:16):
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 moral purity, which we find
(03:37):
even in his merriment severity, gradually hardening and darkening into misanthropy,
characterizes the works of Swift. The nature of Voltaire was
indeed not in human, but he venerated nothing. Neither in
the masterpieces of art, nor in the purest examples of virtue,
(03:57):
neither in the great first cause, nor and the awful
enigma of the grave. Could he see anything but subjects
for drollery. 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. The mirth of
Voltaire is the mirth of Puck. If, as som Jennings
(04:22):
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
compassion for all that is frail, and with profound reverence
(04:42):
for all that is sublime. Nothing great, nothing amiable, No
moral duty, no doctrine of natural or revealed religion has
ever been associated by Addison with any degrading idea. His
humanity is without parallel in literary history. The highest proof
(05:03):
of human virtue 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 Voltaire is well known. But of Addison it may
(05:24):
be confidently affirmed that he has blackened no man's character. 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
(05:44):
as terrible a revenge as that which men not superior
to him and Genius wrecked on Betsworth and on franc
de Pompignon. He was a politician, He was the best
writer of his party. He lived in times of fierce excisement,
in times when persons of high character and stations stooped
to scurrility, such as is now practiced by the basest
(06:08):
of mankind. Yet no provocation and no example could induce
him to return, railing for railing of the service which
his essays rendered to morality. It is difficult to speak
too highly. It is true that when the Tattler appeared,
that age of outrageous profaneness and licentiousness which followed the
(06:31):
restoration had passed away. Jeremy Collier had shamed the theaters
into something which, compared with the excesses of etherage and witchery,
might be called decency. Yet there still lingered in the
public mind a pernicious notion that there was some connection
between genius and profligacy, between the domestic virtues and the
(06:55):
sullen formality of the Puritans. That error, it is the
glory of Addison to have dispelled. He taught the nation
that the faith and the morality of Hale and Tillotson
might be found in company with wit more sparkling than
the wit of Congreeve, and with humor richer than the
humor of Anbrough. So effectually, indeed did he retort on
(07:17):
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 sure mark of
a fool. And this revolution, the greatest and most salutary
ever affected by any satirist. He accomplished, be it remembered
(07:38):
without writing one personal lampoon. In the early contributions of
Addison to the Tatler, his peculiar powers were not fully exhibited,
yet from the first his superiority to his coadjutors was evident.
Some of his later Tatlers are fully equal to anything
that he ever wrote. Among the portrait we most admire,
(08:01):
tom Folio ned Softly and the Political 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
(08:24):
still better paper of the same class. But though that paper,
one hundred and thirty three years ago was probably thought
as edifying as one of Smallridge's sermons, we dare not
indicate it to the squeamish readers of the nineteenth century.
During the session of Parliament which commenced in November seventeen
(08:45):
o nine, and which the impeachment of so Chevrel 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
(09:05):
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
hundred numbers in which he had no share. He required
at this time all the solace which he could derive
(09:27):
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 Parliament,
and engaged as she was in a war on the
(09:48):
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 seventeen ten, the causes which
had restrained her from showing her aversion to the Low
Church Party ceased to operate. The trial of sis Chevrel
produced an outbreak of public feeling scarcely less violent than
(10:13):
those which we can ourselves remember in eighteen twenty and
in eighteen thirty one. The country gentlemen, the country clergyman,
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 excitement abated, the Tories would
(10:34):
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 attacks on the part of Louis. Indeed,
it seemed much more likely that the English and German
armies would divide the spoils of Versailles and Marli than
(10:55):
that a marshal of France would bring back the pretender
to Saint James. The Queen, acting by the advice of Harley,
determined to dismiss her servants. In June. The change commenced.
Sunderland was the first who fell. The Tories exalted over
his fall. The Whigs tried during a few weeks to
(11:15):
persuade themselves that her Majesty had acted only from personal
dislike to the Secretary, and that she meditated no further alteration.
But early in August Godolphin was surprised by a letter
from Anne which directed him to break his White staff.
Even after this event, the irresolution or dissimilation of Harley
(11:37):
kept up the hopes of the Whigs during another month,
and then the ruin became rapid and violent. The Parliament
was dissolved, the ministers were turned out, the Tories were
called to office. The tide of popularity ran violently in
favor of the High Church Party, that party feeble in
(11:58):
the Late House of Commons, which, now irresistible. The power
which the Tories had thus suddenly acquired they used with
blind and stupid ferocity. The howl of which the whole
pack set up for prey and for blood appalled even
him who had roused and unchained them. When at this
distance of time we calmly review the conduct of the
(12:20):
discarded ministers, 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
(12:41):
humbled 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. They had respected the rights of conscience
and the liberty of the subject. They retired, leaving their
country at the height of prosperity and glory. And yet
(13:04):
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 Vulgheren.
None of the Whigs suffered more in the general wreck
(13:24):
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 fellowship. It seems probable that he had already
(13:48):
ventured to raise his eyes to a great lady, and
that while his political friends were all powerful, and while
his own fortunes were rising, he had been, in the
phrase of the romance which were then fashionable, permitted to hope.
But mister Addison the ingenious writer and mister Addison the
Chief Secretary, were, in her Ladyship's opinion, two very different persons.
(14:13):
All these calamities united, however, could not disturb the serene,
cheerfulness of a mind conscious of innocence 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,
(14:36):
and yet that his spirits were as good as ever.
But 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 corporations, he was returned to Parliament without
(14:57):
even a contest. If who is now in London, and
who had already determined on quitting the Whigs wrote to
Stella in these words, the Tories carry it among the
new members six to one. Mister 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
(15:22):
good will with which the Tories regarded Addison as 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. Of
that journal, it may be sufficient to say that Johnson,
in spite of his strong political prejudices, pronounced it to
(15:43):
be superior in wit to any of Swift's writings on
the other side. When it ceased to appear, Swift, in
a letter to Stella, expressed his exaltation at the death
of so formidable an antagonist. He might well rejoice, says Johnson,
at the death of the which he could not have killed.
On no occasion, he adds, was the genius of Addison
(16:06):
more vigorously exerted, and in 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 general ruin of the Whig Party.
He felt himself to be in a situation which made
(16:26):
it his duty to take a decided part in politics.
But the case of Steel and of Ambrose Phillips was different.
For Phillips, Addison 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
(16:48):
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, during 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,
(17:12):
which had once formed about one third of the paper,
altogether disappeared. 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
(17:34):
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 second of January seventeen eleven appeared the last Tatler.
On the first of March following appeared the first of
(17:55):
an incomparable series of papers containing observations on life and
life literature by an imaginary Spectator. The Spectator himself was
conceived and drawn by Addison, and it is not easy
to doubt that the portrait 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,
(18:19):
has traveled on classic ground, and has bestowed much attention
on curious points of antiquity. He has, on his return,
fixed his residence in London, and has observed all the
forms of life which are to be found in the
great city. Has daily listened to the wits of wills,
has smoked with the philosophers of the Gression, and has
(18:41):
mingled with the parsons at Child's and with the politicians
at the Saint James. 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 Theater, but an insurmountable bashfulness prevents him from
opening his mouth except in a small circle of intimate friends.
(19:05):
These friends were first sketched by Steele. Four of the club,
the templar, the clergyman, the soldier, and the merchant were
on interesting 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,
(19:30):
retouched them, colored them, and is, in truth the creator
of 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 valuable essay in the series may be read with
pleasures separately. Yet the five or six hundred essays form
(19:53):
a hole, and a hole 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 appeared. Richardson
was working as a compositor, Fielding was robbing birds nests.
Smollett was not yet born. The narrative therefore, which connects
(20:15):
together the Spectator's essays, gave to our ancestors 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
(20:37):
calls Prince Uzenne, goes with the Spectator on the water
to spring gardens, walks among the tombs in the abbey,
is frightened by the mohawks, but conquers his apprehension so
far as to go to the theater when the distressed
mother is acted. The Spectator pays a visit in the
summer to coverly Hall is charmed with the old house,
(21:00):
the old butler, and the old chaplain eats it. 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 humble 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
(21:22):
Spectator resigns his functions. Such offense can hardly be said
to form a plot, yet they are related with such truth,
such grace, such wit, such humor, such pathos, such knowledge
of the human heart, such knowledge of the ways of
the world, that they charm us. On the hundredth perusal,
(21:43):
we have not the least doubt that if Addison 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, and of Section seven
Section seven of Life and Writings of Addison by Thomas
Babington Macaulay. This librovox recording is in the public domain
read by Pamelinagami. Perhaps the best way of describing Addison's
peculiar pleasantry is to compare it with the pleasantry of
some other great satirist. The three most eminent masters of
(00:23):
the art of ridicule during the eighteenth century were, we
conceive Addison, Swift, and Voltaire. Which of the three had
the greatest power of moving laughter may be questioned, but
each of them, within his own domain, was supreme. Voltaire
is the prince of buffoons. His merriment is without disguise
(00:43):
or restraint. He gambols, he grins, he shakes his sides,
he points the finger, he turns up the nose, he
shoots out the tongue. The manner of Swift is the
very opposite to this. He moves laughter, but never he
appears in his works such as he appeared in society.
(01:06):
All the company are convulsed in merriment, while the Dean,
the author of all the mirth, preserves an invincible gravity
and even sourness of aspect, and gives utterance to the
most eccentric and ludicrous fancies with the air of a
man reading the combination's service. The manner of Addison is
(01:28):
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 countenance while laughing inly, but preserves a look peculiarly
his own, a look of demure serenity, disturbed only by
(01:49):
an arch sparkle of the eye, an almost imperceptible elevation
of the brow, an almost imperceptible curl of the lip.
Is never that either of a jack pudding or of
a cynic. It is that of a gentleman, in whom
the quickest sense of the ridiculous is constantly tempered by
(02:10):
good nature and good breeding. We own that the humor
of Addison is, in our opinion, of a more delicious
flavor than the humor of either 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
(02:31):
Koye to ponsov is Voltaire all over, and imposed during
a long time on the academicians of Paris. There are
passages in are buck Nutt's satirical works which we at
least cannot distinguish from Swift's best writing. But of the
many eminent men who have made Addison their model, though
(02:52):
many have copied his mere diction with happy effect, none
has been able to catch the tone of his pleasantry
in the word world, in the Connoisseur, in the Mirror,
in the Lounger. There are numerous papers written in obvious
imitation of his tattlers and spectators. Most of these papers
have some merit, many are very lively and amusing, But
(03:16):
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 moral purity, which we find
(03:37):
even in his merriment severity, gradually hardening and darkening into misanthropy,
characterizes the works of Swift. The nature of Voltaire was
indeed not in human, but he venerated nothing. Neither in
the masterpieces of art, nor in the purest examples of virtue,
(03:57):
neither in the great first cause, nor and the awful
enigma of the grave. Could he see anything but subjects
for drollery. 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. The mirth of
Voltaire is the mirth of Puck. If, as som Jennings
(04:22):
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
compassion for all that is frail, and with profound reverence
(04:42):
for all that is sublime. Nothing great, nothing amiable, No
moral duty, no doctrine of natural or revealed religion has
ever been associated by Addison with any degrading idea. His
humanity is without parallel in literary history. The highest proof
(05:03):
of human virtue 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 Voltaire is well known. But of Addison it may
(05:24):
be confidently affirmed that he has blackened no man's character. 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
(05:44):
as terrible a revenge as that which men not superior
to him and Genius wrecked on Betsworth and on franc
de Pompignon. He was a politician, He was the best
writer of his party. He lived in times of fierce excisement,
in times when persons of high character and stations stooped
to scurrility, such as is now practiced by the basest
(06:08):
of mankind. Yet no provocation and no example could induce
him to return, railing for railing of the service which
his essays rendered to morality. It is difficult to speak
too highly. It is true that when the Tattler appeared,
that age of outrageous profaneness and licentiousness which followed the
(06:31):
restoration had passed away. Jeremy Collier had shamed the theaters
into something which, compared with the excesses of etherage and witchery,
might be called decency. Yet there still lingered in the
public mind a pernicious notion that there was some connection
between genius and profligacy, between the domestic virtues and the
(06:55):
sullen formality of the Puritans. That error, it is the
glory of Addison to have dispelled. He taught the nation
that the faith and the morality of Hale and Tillotson
might be found in company with wit more sparkling than
the wit of Congreeve, and with humor richer than the
humor of Anbrough. So effectually, indeed did he retort on
(07:17):
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 sure mark of
a fool. And this revolution, the greatest and most salutary
ever affected by any satirist. He accomplished, be it remembered
(07:38):
without writing one personal lampoon. In the early contributions of
Addison to the Tatler, his peculiar powers were not fully exhibited,
yet from the first his superiority to his coadjutors was evident.
Some of his later Tatlers are fully equal to anything
that he ever wrote. Among the portrait we most admire,
(08:01):
tom Folio ned Softly and the Political 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
(08:24):
still better paper of the same class. But though that paper,
one hundred and thirty three years ago was probably thought
as edifying as one of Smallridge's sermons, we dare not
indicate it to the squeamish readers of the nineteenth century.
During the session of Parliament which commenced in November seventeen
(08:45):
o nine, and which the impeachment of so Chevrel 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
(09:05):
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
hundred numbers in which he had no share. He required
at this time all the solace which he could derive
(09:27):
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 Parliament,
and engaged as she was in a war on the
(09:48):
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 seventeen ten, the causes which
had restrained her from showing her aversion to the Low
Church Party ceased to operate. The trial of sis Chevrel
produced an outbreak of public feeling scarcely less violent than
(10:13):
those which we can ourselves remember in eighteen twenty and
in eighteen thirty one. The country gentlemen, the country clergyman,
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 excitement abated, the Tories would
(10:34):
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 attacks on the part of Louis. Indeed,
it seemed much more likely that the English and German
armies would divide the spoils of Versailles and Marli than
(10:55):
that a marshal of France would bring back the pretender
to Saint James. The Queen, acting by the advice of Harley,
determined to dismiss her servants. In June. The change commenced.
Sunderland was the first who fell. The Tories exalted over
his fall. The Whigs tried during a few weeks to
(11:15):
persuade themselves that her Majesty had acted only from personal
dislike to the Secretary, and that she meditated no further alteration.
But early in August Godolphin was surprised by a letter
from Anne which directed him to break his White staff.
Even after this event, the irresolution or dissimilation of Harley
(11:37):
kept up the hopes of the Whigs during another month,
and then the ruin became rapid and violent. The Parliament
was dissolved, the ministers were turned out, the Tories were
called to office. The tide of popularity ran violently in
favor of the High Church Party, that party feeble in
(11:58):
the Late House of Commons, which, now irresistible. The power
which the Tories had thus suddenly acquired they used with
blind and stupid ferocity. The howl of which the whole
pack set up for prey and for blood appalled even
him who had roused and unchained them. When at this
distance of time we calmly review the conduct of the
(12:20):
discarded ministers, 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
(12:41):
humbled 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. They had respected the rights of conscience
and the liberty of the subject. They retired, leaving their
country at the height of prosperity and glory. And yet
(13:04):
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 Vulgheren.
None of the Whigs suffered more in the general wreck
(13:24):
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 fellowship. It seems probable that he had already
(13:48):
ventured to raise his eyes to a great lady, and
that while his political friends were all powerful, and while
his own fortunes were rising, he had been, in the
phrase of the romance which were then fashionable, permitted to hope.
But mister Addison the ingenious writer and mister Addison the
Chief Secretary, were, in her Ladyship's opinion, two very different persons.
(14:13):
All these calamities united, however, could not disturb the serene,
cheerfulness of a mind conscious of innocence 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,
(14:36):
and yet that his spirits were as good as ever.
But 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 corporations, he was returned to Parliament without
(14:57):
even a contest. If who is now in London, and
who had already determined on quitting the Whigs wrote to
Stella in these words, the Tories carry it among the
new members six to one. Mister 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
(15:22):
good will with which the Tories regarded Addison as 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. Of
that journal, it may be sufficient to say that Johnson,
in spite of his strong political prejudices, pronounced it to
(15:43):
be superior in wit to any of Swift's writings on
the other side. When it ceased to appear, Swift, in
a letter to Stella, expressed his exaltation at the death
of so formidable an antagonist. He might well rejoice, says Johnson,
at the death of the which he could not have killed.
On no occasion, he adds, was the genius of Addison
(16:06):
more vigorously exerted, and in 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 general ruin of the Whig Party.
He felt himself to be in a situation which made
(16:26):
it his duty to take a decided part in politics.
But the case of Steel and of Ambrose Phillips was different.
For Phillips, Addison 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
(16:48):
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, during 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,
(17:12):
which had once formed about one third of the paper,
altogether disappeared. 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
(17:34):
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 second of January seventeen eleven appeared the last Tatler.
On the first of March following appeared the first of
(17:55):
an incomparable series of papers containing observations on life and
life literature by an imaginary Spectator. The Spectator himself was
conceived and drawn by Addison, and it is not easy
to doubt that the portrait 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,
(18:19):
has traveled on classic ground, and has bestowed much attention
on curious points of antiquity. He has, on his return,
fixed his residence in London, and has observed all the
forms of life which are to be found in the
great city. Has daily listened to the wits of wills,
has smoked with the philosophers of the Gression, and has
(18:41):
mingled with the parsons at Child's and with the politicians
at the Saint James. 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 Theater, but an insurmountable bashfulness prevents him from
opening his mouth except in a small circle of intimate friends.
(19:05):
These friends were first sketched by Steele. Four of the club,
the templar, the clergyman, the soldier, and the merchant were
on interesting 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,
(19:30):
retouched them, colored them, and is, in truth the creator
of 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 valuable essay in the series may be read with
pleasures separately. Yet the five or six hundred essays form
(19:53):
a hole, and a hole 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 appeared. Richardson
was working as a compositor, Fielding was robbing birds nests.
Smollett was not yet born. The narrative therefore, which connects
(20:15):
together the Spectator's essays, gave to our ancestors 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
(20:37):
calls Prince Uzenne, goes with the Spectator on the water
to spring gardens, walks among the tombs in the abbey,
is frightened by the mohawks, but conquers his apprehension so
far as to go to the theater when the distressed
mother is acted. The Spectator pays a visit in the
summer to coverly Hall is charmed with the old house,
(21:00):
the old butler, and the old chaplain eats it. 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 humble 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
(21:22):
Spectator resigns his functions. Such offense can hardly be said
to form a plot, yet they are related with such truth,
such grace, such wit, such humor, such pathos, such knowledge
of the human heart, such knowledge of the ways of
the world, that they charm us. On the hundredth perusal,
(21:43):
we have not the least doubt that if Addison 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, and of Section seven
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