own mind left him little need of adventitious sentiments; his wit always could suggest what the occafion demanded. He had read with critical eyes the important volume of human life, and knew the heart of man from the depths of stratato the furface of affectation. Pope declares that he wrote very fluently, but was flow and scrupulous in correcting; that many of the Spectators were written very fast, and sent immediately to the press; and that it seemed for his advantage not to have time for much perufal. Of the course of Addison's familiar day, before his marriage, Pope has given a detail. He had in his house with him Budgell, and perhaps Philips. His chief companions were Steele, Budgell, Philips, Carey, Davenant, and colonel Brett. With one or other of these he always breakfasted. He studied all morning; then dined at a tavern, and went afterwards to Button's. Button had been a servant in the countess of Warwick's family, who under the patronage of Addison, kept a coffee-house on the south side of Ruffel-street about two doors from Covent-garden. Here it was that the wits of that time used to assemble. It is faid, that when Addifon had fuffered any vexation from the countess, he withdrew the company from Button's house. From the coffee-house he went again to a tavern, where he often sat late, and drank too much wine. In the bottle, discontent seeks for comfort, cowardice for courage, and bafhfulness for confidence. It is not unlikely that Addison was first seduced to excess by the manumiffion which he obtained from the servile timidity of his fober hours. He that feels oppreffion from the prefence of those to whom he knows himself superior, will defire to set loofe his powers of conversation; and who, that ever afked fuccour from Bacchus, was able to preserve himself from being enslaved by his auxiliary? If any judgment may be made, from his books of his moral character, nothing will be found but purity and excellence. Knowledge of mankind indeed, less extensive than that of Addison, will. shew that to write and to live are very different. Many who praise virtue do no more than praise it. Yet it is reasonable to believe that Addison's profeffions and practice were at no great variance, fince, amidst that storm of faction in which most of his life was passed, tho' his station made him confpicuous, and his activity made him formidable, the character given him by his friends was never contradicted by his enemies. Of those with whom interest or opinion united him, he had not only the esteem but the kindness; and of others, whom the violence of opposition drove against him, though he might lose the love, he retained the reverence. He has employed wit on the side of virtue and religion. He not only made the proper use of wit himself, but taught it to others; and from his time it has been generally subservient to the cause of reason and of truth. He has dissipated the prejudice that had long connected gaiety with vice, and easiness of manners with laxity of principles. He has restored virtue to its dignity, and taught innocence not to be ashamed. This is an elevation of literary character, above all Greek, above all Roman fame. No greater felicity can genius attain than that of having purified intellectual pleasure, separated mirth from indecency, and wit from licentiousness; of having taught a fucceffion of writers writers to bring elegance and gaiety to the end of goodness; and, 10 use expressions yet more awful, of having turned many to righteousness. THE poetry of Addison is polished and pure; the product of a mind two judicious to commit faults, but not fufficiently vigorous to attain excellence. He has sometimes a striking line, or a shining paragraph, but in the whole he is warm rather than fervid, and shews more dextirity than strength. He was however one of our earliest examples of correctness. The present generation is scarcely willing to allow him the name of a critic; his criticism is condemned as tentative or experimental, rather than scientific; and he is confidered as deciding by taste rather than by principles. It is not uncommon for those who have grown wife by the labour of others, to add a little of their own, and overlook their masters. Addison is now despised by fome who perhaps would never have seen hiş defects, but by the lights which he afforded them. But before the profound observers of the present race repose too securely on their fuperiority to Addison, let them consider his remarks on Ovid, in which may be found specimens of criticism sufficiently subtle and refined; let them peruse likewise his Essays on Wit, and on the Pleasures of the Imagination, in which he founds art on the base of nature, and draws the principles of invention from dispositions inherent in the mind of man, with skill and elegance, such as his contemners will not easily attain. As a describer of life and manners, he must be allowed h allowed to stand perhaps the first of the first rank. His humour, which is peculiar to himself, is fo happily diffused as to give the grace of novelty to domeftic scenes and daily occurrences. He never o'ersteps the modesty of nature, nor raises merriment or wonder by the violation of truth. His figures neither divert by distortion, nor amafe by aggravation. He copies life with so much fidelity, that he can be hardly said to invent; yet his exhibitions have an air fo much original, that it is difficult to suppose them not merely the product of imagi nation. As a teacher of wisdom he may be confidently followed. His religion has nothing in it enthusiaftic or fuperftitious; he appears neither weakly credulous nor wantonly sceptical: his morality is neither dangerously lax, nor impracticably rigid. All the enchantment of fancy and all the cogency of argument are employed to recommend to the reader his real interests, the care of pleasing the Author of his being. Truth is shewn sometimes as the phantom of a vifion, sometimes appears halfveiled in an allegory; fometimes attracts regard in the robes of fancy, and sometimes steps forth in the confidence of reafon. She wears a thousand dresses and in all is pleasing. on Mille babet ornatus, mille decenter habet. His prose is the model of the middle style; grave subjects not formal, on light occafions not grovelling; pure without fcrupulosity, and exact without apparent elaboration; always equal, and always easy, without giving words or pointed sentences. Addison never devivates from his track to snatch a grace; he seeks no ambitious ambitious ornaments, and tries no hazardous innovations. His page is always luminous, but never blazes in unexpected splendour. It seems to have been his principal endeavour to avoid all harsiness and severity of diction, he is therefore sometimes verbose in his transitions and connections, and sometimes descends too much to the language of conversation; yet if his language had been lefs idiomatical, it might have loft somewhat of its genuine Anglicism. What he attempted, he performed; he is never feeble, and he did not wish to be energetic; he is never rapid, and he never stagnates. His sentences have neither studied amplitude, nor affected brevity: his periods, though not diligently rounded, are voluble and easy. Whoever wishes to attain an English style, familiar but not coarse, and elegant but not ostentations, must give his days and nights to the volumes of ADDISON. DEDICATION |