Life of JOSEPH ADDISON.

[Preface to first edition of ADDISON's Works 1721.]

JOSEPH ADDISON, the son of LANCELOT ADDISON, D.D., and of JANE, the daughter of NATHANIEL GULSTON, D.D., and sister of Dr. WILLIAM GULSTON, Bishop of BRISTOL, was born at Milston, near Ambrosebury, in the county of Wilts, in the year 1671.

His father, who was of the county of Westmoreland, and educated at Queen's College in Oxford, passed many years in his travels through Europe and Africa; where he joined to the uncommon and excellent talents of Nature, a great knowledge of Letters and Things: of which, several books published by him, are ample testimonies. He was Rector of Milston, above mentioned, when Mr. ADDISON, his eldest son, was born: and afterwards became Archdeacon of Coventry, and Dean of Lichfield.

Mr. ADDISON received his first education at the Chartreuse [Charterhouse School in London]; from whence he was removed very early to Queen's College, in Oxford. He had been there about two years, when the accidental sight of a Paper of his verses, in the hands of Dr. LANCASTER, then Dean of that House, occasioned his being elected into Magdalen College.

He employed his first years in the study of the old Greek and Roman Writers; whose language and manner he caught, at that time of life, as strongly as other young people gain a French accent, or a genteel air.

An early acquaintance with the Classics is what may be called the Good Breeding of Poetry, as it gives a certain gracefulness which never forsakes a mind that contracted it in youth; but is seldom, or never, hit by those who would learn it too late.

He first distinguished himself by his Latin compositions, published in the Musae Anglicanae: and was admired as one of the best Authors since the Augustan Age, in the two universities and the greatest part of Europe, before he was talked of as a Poet in Town.

There is not, perhaps, any harder task than to tame the natural wildness of Wit, and to civilize the Fancy. The generality of our old English Poets abound in forced conceits and affected phrases; and even those who are said to come the nearest to exactness, are but too often fond of unnatural beauties, and aim at something better than perfection. If Mr. ADDISON's example and precepts be the occasion that there now begins to be a great demand for Correctness, we may justly attribute it to his being first fashioned by the ancient Models, and familiarized to Propriety of Thought and Chastity of Style.

Our country owes it to him, that the famous Monsieur BOILEAU first conceived an opinion of the English Genius for Poetry, by perusing the present he made him of the Musae Anglicanae. It has been currently reported, that this famous French poet, among the civilities he shewed Mr. ADDISON on that occasion, affirmed that he would not have written against PERRAULT, had he before seen such excellent Pieces by a modern hand. Such a saying would have been impertinent, and unworthy [of] BOILEAU! whose dispute with PERRAULT turned chiefly upon some passages in the Ancients, which he rescued from the misinterpretations of his adversary. The true and natural compliment made by him, was that those books had given him a very new Idea of the English Politeness, and that he did not question but there were excellent compositions in the native language of a country, that professed the Roman Genius in so eminent a degree.

The first English performance made public by him, is a short copy of verses To Mr. DRYDEN, with a view particularly to his Translations.

This was soon followed by a Version of the fourth Georgic of VIRGIL; of which Mr. DRYDEN makes very honourable mention in the Postscript to his own Translation of VIRGIL's Works: wherein, I have often wondered that he did not, at the same time, acknowledge his obligation to Mr. ADDISON, for giving the Essay upon the Georgics, prefixed to Mr. DRYDEN's Translation. Lest the honour of so exquisite a piece of criticism should hereafter be transferred to a wrong Author, I have taken care to insert it in this Collection of his Works.

Of some other copies of Verses, printed in the Miscellanies while he was young, the largest is An Account of the greatest English Poets; in the close of which, he insinuates a design he then had of going into Holy Orders, to which he was strongly importuned by his father. His remarkable seriousness and modesty, which might have been urged as powerful reasons for his choosing that life, proved the chief obstacles to it. These qualities, by which the Priesthood is so much adorned, represented the duties of it as too weighty for him, and rendered him still the more worthy of that honour, which they made him decline. It is happy that this very circumstance has since turned so much to the advantage of Virtue and Religion; in the cause of which, he has bestowed his labours the more successfully, as they were his voluntary, not his necessary employment. The World became insensibly reconciled to Wisdom and Goodness, when they saw them recommended by him, with at least as much Spirit and Elegance as they had been ridiculed [with] for half a century.

He was in his twenty-eighth year [1699], when his inclination to see France and Italy was encouraged by the great Lord Chancellor SOMERS, one of that kind of patriots who think it no waste of the Public Treasure, to purchase Politeness to their country. His Poem upon one of King WILLIAM's Campaigns, addressed to his Lordship, was received with great humanity; and occasioned a message from him to the Author, to desire his acquaintance.

He soon after obtained, by his Interest, a yearly pension of three hundred pounds from the Crown, to support him in his travels. If the uncommonness of a favour, and the distinction of the person who confers it, enhance its value; nothing could be more honourable to a young Man of Learning, than such a bounty from so eminent a Patron.

How well Mr. ADDISON answered the expectations of my Lord SOMERS, cannot appear better than from the book of Travels, he dedicated to his Lordship at his return. It is not hard to conceive why that performance was at first but indifferently relished by the bulk of readers; who expected an Account, in a common way, of the customs and policies of the several Governments In Italy, reflections upon the Genius of the people, a Map [description] of the Provinces, or a measure of their buildings. How were they disappointed! when, instead of such particulars, they were presented only with a Journal of Poetical Travels, with Remarks on the present picture of the country compared with the landskips [landscapes] drawn by Classic Authors, and others the like unconcerning parts of knowledge! One may easily imagine a reader of plain sense but without a fine taste, turning over these parts of the Volume which make more than half of it, and wondering how an Author who seems to have so solid an understanding when he treats of more weighty subjects in the other pages, should dwell upon such trifles, and give up so much room to matters of mere amusement. There are indeed but few men so fond of the Ancients, as to be transported with every little accident which introduces to their intimate acquaintance. Persons of that cast may here have the satisfaction of seeing Annotations upon an old Roman Poem, gathered from the hills and valleys where it was written. The Tiber and the Po serve to explain the verses which were made upon their banks; and the Alps and Apennines are made Commentators on those Authors, to whom they were subjects, so many centuries ago.

Next to personal conversation with the Writers themselves, this is the surest way of coming at their sense; a compendious and engaging kind of Criticism which convinces at first sight, and shews the vanity of conjectures made by Antiquaries at a distance. If the knowledge of Polite Literature has its use, there is certainly a merit in illustrating the Perfect Models of it; and the Learned World will think some years of a man's life not misspent in so elegant an employment. I shall conclude what I had to say on this Performance, by observing that the fame of it increased from year to year; and the demand for copies was so urgent, that their price rose to four or five times the original value, before it came out in a second edition.

The Letter from Italy to my Lord HALIFAX may be considered as the Text, upon which the book of Travels is a large Comment; and has been esteemed by those who have a relish for Antiquity, as the most exquisite of his poetical performances. A Translation of it, by Signor SALVINI, Professor of the Greek tongue, at Florence, is inserted in this edition; not only on account of its merit, but because it is the language of the country, which is the subject of the Poem.

The materials for the Dialogues upon Medals, now first printed from a manuscript of the Author, were collected in the native country of those coins. The book itself was begun to be cast in form, at Vienna; as appears from a letter to Mr. STEPNEY, then Minister at that Court, dated in November, 1702.

Some time before the date of this letter, Mr. ADDISON had designed to return to England; when he received advice from his friends that he was pitched upon to attend the army under Prince EUGENE, who had just begun the war in Italy, as Secretary from His Majesty. But an account of the death of King WILLIAM, which he met with at Geneva, put an end to that thought: and, as his hopes of advancement in his own country, were fallen with the credit of his friends, who were out of power at the beginning of her late Majesty's reign, he had leisure to make the tour of Germany, in his way home.

He remained, for some time after his return to England, without any public employment: which he did not obtain till the year 1704, when the Duke of MARLBOROUGH arrived at the highest pitch of glory, by delivering all Europe from slavery; and furnished Mr. ADDISON with a subject worthy of that Genius which appears in his Poem, called The Campaign.

Lord Treasurer GODOLPHIN, who was a fine judge of poetry, had a sight of this Work when it was only carried on as far as the applauded simile of the Angel; and approved of the Poem, by bestowing on the Author, in a few days after, the place of Commissioner of Appeals, vacant by the removal of the famous Mr. [JOHN] LOCKE to the Council of Trade.

His next advancement was to the place of Under Secretary, which he held under Sir CHARLES HEDGES, and the present Earl of SUNDERLAND. The opera of Rosamond was written while he possessed that employment. What doubts soever have been raised about the merit of the Music, which, as the Italian taste at that time began wholly to prevail, was thought sufficient inexcusable, because it was the composition of an Englishman; the Poetry of this Piece has given as much pleasure in the closet, as others have afforded from the Stage, with all the assistance of voices and instruments.

The Comedy called The Tender Husband appeared much about the same time; to which Mr. ADDISON wrote the Prologue. Sir RICHARD STEELE surprised him with a very handsome Dedication of his Play; and has since acquainted the Public, that he owed some of the most taking scenes of it, to Mr. ADDISON.

His next step in his fortune, was to the post of Secretary under the late Marquis of WHARTON, who was appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, in the year 1709. As I have proposed to touch but very lightly on those parts of his life, which do not regard him as an Author; I shall not enlarge upon the great reputation he acquired, by his turn for business, and his unblemished integrity, in this and other employments.

It must not be omitted here, that the salary of Keeper of the Records in Ireland was considerably raised, and that post bestowed upon him at this time, as a mark of the Queen's favour.

He was in that Kingdom, when he first discovered Sir RICHARD STEELE to be the Author of the Tatler, by an observation upon VIRGIL, which had been by him communicated to his friend. The assistance he occasionally gave him afterwards, in the course of the Paper, did not a little contribute to advance its reputation; and, upon the Change of the Ministry, he found leisure to engage more constantly in that Work: which, however, was dropped at last, as it had been taken up, without his participation.

In the last Paper, which closed those celebrated Performances, and in the Preface to the last Volume, Sir RICHARD STEELE has given to Mr. ADDISON, the honour of the most applauded Pieces in that Collection. But as that acknowledgement was delivered only in general terms, without directing the Public to the several Papers; Mr. ADDISON (who was content with the praise arising from his own Works, and too delicate to take any part of that which belonged to others), afterwards, thought fit to distinguish his Writings in the Spectators and Guardians, by such marks as might remove the least possibility of mistake in the most undiscerning readers.

It was necessary that his share in the Tatlers should be adjusted in a complete Collection of his Works: for which reason, Sir RICHARD STEELE, in compliance with the request of his deceased friend, delivered to him by the Editor, was pleased to mark with his own hand, those Tatlers, which are inserted in this edition; and even to point out several, in the writing of which, they were both concerned.

The Plan of the Spectator, as far as regards the feigned Person of the Author, and of the several Characters that compose his Club, was projected in concert with Sir RICHARD STEELE. And because many passages in the course of the Work would otherwise be obscure, I have taken leave to insert one single Paper written by Sir RICHARD STEELE, wherein those Characters are drawn; which may serve as a Dramatis Personae, or as so many pictures for an ornament and explication of the whole.

As for the distinct Papers, they were never or seldom shewn to each other, by their respective Authors; who fully answered the Promise they had made, and far outwent the Expectation they had raised, of pursuing their Labour in the same Spirit and Strength with which it was begun.

It would have been impossible for Mr. ADDISON (who made little or no use of letters sent in, by the numerous correspondents of the Spectator) to have executed his large share of his task in so exquisite a manner; if he had not engrafted into it many Pieces that had lain by him, in little hints and minutes, which he from time to time collected and ranged in order, and moulded into the form in which they now appear. Such are the Essays upon Wit, the Pleasures of the Imagination, the Critique upon MILTON, and some others: which I thought to have connected in a continued Series in this Edition, though they were at first published with the interruption of writings on different subjects. But as such a scheme would have obliged me to cut off several graceful introductions and circumstances peculiarly adapted to the time and occasion of printing then; I durst not pursue that attempt.

The Tragedy of CATO appeared in public in the year 1713; when the greatest part of the last Act was added by the Author, to the foregoing which he had kept by him for many years. He took up a design of writing a play upon this subject, when he was very young at the University; and even attempted something in it there, though not a line as it now stands. The work was performed by him in his travels, and retouched in England, without any formed resolution of bringing it upon the Stage, until his friends of the first Quality and Distinction prevailed on him, to put the last finishing to it, at a time when they thought the Doctrine of Liberty very seasonable.

It is in everybody's memory, with what applause it was received by the Public; that the first run of it lasted for a month, and then stopped only because one of the performers became incapable of acting a principal part.

The Author received a message that the Queen would be pleased to have it dedicated to her: but as he had designed that compliment elsewhere, he found himself obliged, by his duty on the one side, and his honour on the other, to send it into the World without any Dedication.

The fame of this tragedy soon spread through Europe; and it has not only
been translated, but acted in most of the languages of Christendom. The
Translation of it into Italian by Signor SALVINI is very well known: but
I have not been able to learn, whether that of Signor VALETTA, a young
Neapolitan Nobleman, has ever been made public.

If he had found time for the writing of another tragedy, the Death of SOCRATES would have been the story. And, however unpromising that subject may appear; it would be presumptuous to censure his choice, who was so famous for raising the noblest plants from the most barren soil. It serves to shew that he thought the whole labour of such a Performance unworthy to be thrown away upon those Intrigues and Adventures, to which the romantic taste has confined Modern Tragedy: and, after the example of his predecessors in Greece, would have employed the Drama to wear out of our minds everything that is mean or little, to cherish and cultivate that Humanity which is the ornament of our nature, to soften Insolence, to soothe Affliction, and to subdue our minds to the dispensations of Providence. (Spectator, No. 39.)

Upon the death of the late Queen, the Lords Justices, in whom the
Administration was lodged, appointed him their Secretary.

Soon after His Majesty's arrival in Great Britain, the Earl of SUNDERLAND, being constituted Lord Lieutenant of Ireland; Mr. ADDISON became, a second time, Secretary for the Affairs of that Kingdom: and was made one of the Lords Commissioners of Trade, a little after his Lordship resigned the post of Lord Lieutenant.

The Paper called the Freeholder, was undertaken at the time when the
Rebellion broke out in Scotland.

The only Works he left behind for the Public, are the Dialogues upon medals, and the Treatise upon the Christian Religion. Some account has been already given of the former: to which nothing is now to be added, except that a great part of the Latin quotations were rendered into English in a very hasty manner by the Editor and one of his friends who had the good nature to assist him, during his avocations of business. It was thought better to add these translations, such as they are; than to let the Work come out unintelligible to those who do not possess the learned languages.

The Scheme for the Treatise upon the Christian Religion was formed by the Author, about the end of the late Queen's reign; at which time, he carefully perused the ancient Writings, which furnish the materials for it. His continual employment in business prevented him from executing it, until he resigned his office of Secretary of State; and his death put a period to it, when he had imperfectly performed only one half of the design: he having proposed, as appears from the Introduction, to add the Jewish to the Heathen testimonies for the truth of the Christian History. He was more assiduous than his health would well allow, in the pursuit of this Work: and had long determined to dedicate his Poetry also, for the future, wholly to religious subjects.

Soon after, he was, from being one of the Lords Commissioners of Trade, advanced to the post of Secretary of State; he found his health impaired by the return of that asthmatic indisposition; which continued often, to afflict him during his exercise of that employment: and, at last, obliged him to beg His Majesty's leave to resign.

His freedom from the anxiety of business so far re-established his health, that his friends began to hope he might last for many years: but (whether it were from a life too sedentary; or from his natural constitution, in which was one circumstance very remarkable, that, from his cradle, he never had a regular pulse) a long and painful relapse into an asthma and dropsy deprived the World of this great man, on the 17th of June, 1719.

He left behind him only one daughter, by the Countess of WARWICK; to whom he was married in the year 1716.

Not many days before his death, he gave me directions to collect his Writings, and at the same time committed to my care the Letter addressed to Mr. CRAGGS, his successor as Secretary of State, wherein he bequeaths them to him, as a token of friendship.

Such a testimony, from the First Man of our Age, in such a point of time, will be perhaps as great and lasting an honour to that Gentleman as any even he could acquire to himself, and yet it is no more than was due from an affection that justly increased towards him, through the intimacy of several years. I cannot, save with the utmost tenderness, reflect on the kind concern with which Mr. ADDISON left Me as a sort of incumbrance upon this valuable legacy. Nor must I deny myself the honour to acknowlege that the goodness of that Great Man to me, like many other of his amiable qualities, seemed not so much to be renewed, as continued in his successor; who made me an example, that nothing could be indifferent to him which came recommended to Mr. ADDISON.

Could any circumstance be more severe to me, while I was executing these Last Commands of the Author, than to see the Person to whom his Works were presented, cut off in the flower of his age, and carried from the high Office wherein he had succeeded Mr. ADDISON, to be laid next him, in the same grave? I might dwell upon such thoughts as naturally rise from these minute resemblances in the fortune of two persons, whose names probably will be seldom mentioned asunder while either our Language or Story subsist; were I not afraid of making this Preface too tedious: especially since I shall want all the patience of the reader, for having enlarged it with the following verses.

To the EARL OF WARWICK

On the Death of MR. ADDISON.

If dumb too long, the drooping muse hath stay'd
And left her debt to Addison unpaid,
Blame not her silence, Warwick, but bemoan,
And judge, oh judge, my bosom by your own.
What mourner ever felt poetic fires!
Slow comes the verse that real woe inspires:
Grief unaffected suits but ill with art,
Or flowing numbers with a bleeding heart.
Can I forget the dismal night that gave
My soul's best part for ever to the grave!
How silent did his old companions tread
By midnight lamps, the mansions of the dead
Through breathing statues, then unheeded things,
Through rows of warriors, and through walks of kings!
What awe did the slow solemn knell inspire;
The pealing organ, and the pausing choir;
The duties by the lawn-rob'd prelate paid;
And the last words, that dust to dust convey'd!
While speechless o'er thy closing grave we bend,
Accept these tears, thou dear departed friend.
Oh gone for ever! take this long adieu;
And sleep in peace, next thy lov'd Montague.
To strew fresh laurels, let the task be mine,
A frequent pilgrim, at thy sacred shrine;
Mine with true sighs thy absence to bemoan,
And grave with faithful epitaphs thy stone.
If e'er from me thy lov'd memorial part,
May shame afflict this alienated heart;
Of thee forgetful if I form a song,
My lyre be broken, and untun'd my tongue.
My grief be doubled from thy image free,
And mirth a torment, unchastis'd by thee.
Oft let me range the gloomy aisles alone,
Sad luxury! to vulgar minds unknown,
Along the walls, where speaking marbles show
What worthies form the hallow'd mould below;
Proud names who once the reins of empire held;
In arms who triumphed; or in arts excelled;
Chiefs graced with scars and prodigal of blood;
Stern patriots who for sacred freedom stood;
Just men, by whom impartial laws were given;
And saints who taught and led the way to heaven;
Ne'er to these chambers, where the mighty rest
Since their foundation came a nobler guest;
Nor e'er was to the bowers of bliss convey'd
A fairer spirit or more welcome shade.
In what new region to the just assigned,
What new employments please th' unbody'd mind;
A wingÈd virtue, through th' ethereal sky
From world to world unweary'd does he fly?
Or curious trace the long laborious maze
Of heaven's decrees where wondering angels gaze;
Does he delight to hear bold seraphs tell
How Michael battl'd and the dragon fell,
Or mixed with milder cherubim to glow
In hymns of love not ill-essay'd below?
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 thy 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;
Lead through the paths thy virtue trod before,
Till bliss shall join nor death can part us more.
That awful form, which, so the heavens decree,
Must still be loved and still deplor'd by me
In nightly visions seldom fails to rise,
Or rous'd by fancy, meets my waking eyes.
If business calls, or crowded courts invite;
Th' unblemish'd statesman seems to strike my sight;
If in the stage I seek to soothe my care
I meet his soul which breathes in Cato there;
If pensive to the rural shades I rove,
His shape o'ertakes me in the lonely grove;
'Twas there of just and good he reason'd strong,
Clear'd some great truth, or rais'd some serious song:
There patient show'd us the wise course to steer,
A candid censor, and a friend severe;
There taught us how to live; and (oh! too high
The price for knowledge) taught us how to die.

Sir RICHARD STEELE.

Dedicatory Epistle to WILLIAM CONGREVE.

[This Dedication is prefixed to the Second Edition of ADDISON's Drummer, 1722.]

To Mr. CONGREVE: occasioned by Mr. TICKELL's Preface to the four volumes of Mr. ADDISON's Works.

Sir,

This is the second time that I have, without your leave, taken the liberty to make a public address to you.

However uneasy you may be, for your own sake, in receiving compliments of this nature, I depend upon your known humanity for pardon; when I acknowledge that you have this present trouble, for mine. When I take myself to be ill treated with regard to my behaviour to the merit of other men; my conduct towards you is an argument of my candour that way, as well as that your name and authority will be my protection in it. You will give me leave therefore, in a matter that concerns us in the Poetical World, to make you my judge whether I am not injured in the highest manner! for with men of your taste and delicacy, it is a high crime and misdemeanour to be guilty of anything that is disingenuous. But I will go into my matter.

Upon my return from Scotland, I visited Mr. TONSON's shop, and thanked him for his care in sending to my house, the Volumes of my dear and honoured friend Mr. ADDISON; which are, at last, published by his Secretary, Mr. TICKELL: but took occasion to observe, that I had not seen the Work before it came out; which he did not think fit to excuse any otherwise than by a recrimination, that I had put into his hands, at a high price, a Comedy called The Drummer; which, by my zeal for it, he took to be written by Mr. ADDISON, and of which, after his [ADDISON's] death, he said, I directly acknowleged he was the author.

To urge this hardship still more home, he produced a receipt under my hand, in these words—

March 12, 1715 [-16].

Received then, the sum of Fifty Guineas for the Copy [copyright] of the Comedy called, The Drummer or the Haunted House. I say, received by order of the Author of the said Comedy,

RICHARD STEELE.

and added, at the same time, that since Mr. TICKELL had not thought fit to make that play a part of Mr. ADDISON's Works; he would sell the Copy to any bookseller that would give most for it [i.e., TONSON threw the onus of the authenticity of the Drummer on STEELE].

This is represented thus circumstantially, to shew how incumbent it is upon me, as well in justice to the bookseller, as for many other considerations, to produce this Comedy a second time [It was first printed in 1716]; and take this occasion to vindicate myself against certain insinuations thrown out by the Publisher [THOMAS TICKELL] of Mr. ADDISON's Writings, concerning my behaviour in the nicest circumstance—that of doing justice to the Merit of my Friend.

I shall take the liberty, before I have ended this Letter, to say why I believe the Drummer a performance of Mr. ADDISON: and after I have declared this, any surviving writer may be at ease; if there be any one who has hitherto been vain enough to hope, or silly enough to fear, it may be given to himself.

Before I go any further, I must make my Public Appeal to you and all the Learned World, and humbly demand, Whether it was a decent and reasonable thing, that Works written, as a great part of Mr. ADDISON's were, in correspondence [coadjutorship] with me, ought to have been published without my review of the Catalogue of them; or if there were any exception to be made against any circumstance in my conduct, Whether an opportunity to explain myself should not have been allowed me, before any Reflections were made on me in print.

When I had perused Mr. TICKELL's Preface, I had soon so many objections, besides his omission to say anything of the Drummer, against his long-expected performance: the chief intention of which (and which it concerns me first to examine) seems to aim at doing the deceased Author justice, against me! whom he insinuates to have assumed to myself, part of the merit of my friend.

He is pleased, Sir, to express himself concerning the present Writer, in the following manner—

The Comedy called The Tender Husband, _appeared much about the same time; to which Mr. ADDISON wrote the _Prologue: Sir RICHARD STEELE surprised him with a very handsome Dedication of this Play; and has since acquainted the Public, that he owed some of the most taking scenes of it, to Mr. ADDISON. Mr. TICKELL's Preface. Pag. 11.

He was in that Kingdom [Ireland], when he first discovered Sir RICHARD STEELE to be the Author of the Tatler, by an observation upon VIRGIL, which had been by him communicated to his friend. The assistance he occasionally gave him afterwards, in the course of the Paper, did not a little contribute to advance its reputation; and, upon the Change of the Ministry [in the autumn of 1710], he found leisure to engage more constantly in that Work: which, however, was dropped at last, as it had been taken up, without his participation.

In the last Paper which closed those celebrated Performances, and in the Preface to the last Volume, Sir RICHARD STEELE has given to Mr. ADDISON, the honour of the most applauded Pieces in that Collection. But as that acknowledgement was delivered only in general terms, without directing the Public to the several Papers; Mr. ADDISON (who was content with the praise arising from his own Works, and too delicate to take any part of that which belonged to others), afterwards thought fit to distinguish his Writings in the Spectators and Guardians by such marks as might remove the least possibility of mistake in the most undiscerning readers. It was necessary that his share in the Tatlers should be adjusted in a complete Collection of his Works: for which reason, Sir RICHARD STEELE, in compliance with the request of his deceased friend, delivered to him by the Editor, was pleased to mark with his own hand, those Tatlers which are inserted in this edition; and even to point out several, in the writing of which, they both were concerned. Pag. 12.

The Plan of the Spectator, as far as it related to the feigned Person of the Author, and of the several Characters that compose his Club, was projected in concert with Sir RICHARD STEELE: and because many passages in the course of the Work would otherwise be obscure, I have taken leave to insert one Paper written by Sir RICHARD STEELE, wherein those Characters are drawn; which may serve as a Dramatis Personae, or as so many pictures for an ornament and explication of the whole. As for the distinct Papers, they were never or seldom shewn to each other, by their respective Authors, who fully answered the Promise they made, and far outwent the Expectation they had raised, of pursuing their Labour in the same Spirit and Strength with which it was begun. Pag. 13.

It need not be explained that it is here intimated, that I had not sufficiently acknowledged what was due to Mr. ADDISON in these Writings. I shall make a full Answer to what seems intended by the words, He was too delicate to take any part of that which belonged to others; if I can recite out of my own Papers, anything that may make it appear groundless.

The subsequent [following] encomiums bestowed by me on Mr. ADDISON will, I hope, be of service to me in this particular.

But I have only one Gentleman, who will be nameless, to thank for any frequent assistance to me: which indeed it would have been barbarous in him, to have denied in one with whom he has lived in an intimacy from childhood; considering the great Ease with which he is able to despatch the most entertaining Pieces of this nature. This good office he performed with such force of Genius, Humour, Wit, and Learning, that I fared like a distressed Prince who calls in a powerful neighbour 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 same Hand wrote the distinguishing Characters of Men and Women under the names of Musical Instruments, the Distress of the News-Writers, the Inventory of the Play House, and the Description of the Thermometer; which I cannot but look upon, as the greatest embellishments of this Work. Pref. to the 4th Vol. of the Tatlers.

As to the Work itself, the acceptance it has met with is the best proof of its value: but I should err against that candour which an honest man should always carry about him, if I did not own that the most approved Pieces in it were written by others; and those, which have been most excepted against by myself. The Hand that has assisted me in those noble Discourses upon the Immortality of the Soul, the Glorious Prospects of another Life, and the most sublime ideas of Religion and Virtue, is a person, who is too fondly my friend ever to own them: but I should little deserve to be his, if I usurped the glory of them. I must acknowledge, at the same time, that I think the finest strokes of Wit and Humour in all Mr. BICKERSTAFF's Lucubrations, are those for which he is also beholden to him. Tatler, No. 271.

I hope the Apology I have made as to the license allowable to a feigned Character may excuse anything which has been said in these Discourses of the Spectator _and his Works. But the imputation of the grossest vanity would still dwell upon me, if I did not give some account by what means I was enabled to keep up the Spirit of so long and approved a performance. All the Papers marked with _a C, L, I, or O—that is to say, all the Papers which I have distinguished by any letter in the name of the Muse CLIO—were given me by the Gentleman, of whose assistance I formerly boasted in the Preface and concluding Leaf of the Tatler. I am indeed much more proud of his long-continued friendship, than I should be of the fame of being thought the Author of any Writings which he himself is capable of producing.

I remember, when I finished the Tender Husband; I told him, there was nothing I so ardently wished as that we might, some time or other, publish a Work written by us both; which should bear the name of the Monument, in memory of our friendship. I heartily wish what I have done here, were as honorary to that sacred name, as Learning, Wit, and Humanity render those Pieces, which I have taught the reader how to distinguish for his.

When the Play above mentioned was last acted, there were so many applauded strokes in it which I had from the same hand, that I thought very meanly of myself that I had never publicly acknowledged them.

After I have put other friends upon importuning him to publish Dramatic as well as other Writings, he has by him; I shall end what I think I am obliged to say on this head, by giving the reader this hint for the better judgement of my productions: that the best Comment upon them would be, an Account when the Patron [i.e., ADDISON] to the Tender Husband was in England or abroad [i.e., Ireland]. Spectator, No. 555.

My purpose in this Application is only to shew the esteem I have for you, and that I look upon my intimacy with you as one of the most valuable enjoyments of my life. Dedication before the Tender Husband.

I am sure, you have read my quotations with indignation against the little [petty] zeal which prompted the Editor (who by the way, has himself done nothing in applause of the Works which he prefaces) to the mean endeavour of adding to Mr. ADDISON, by disparaging a man who had (for the greatest part of his life) been his known bosom friend, and shielded him from all the resentments which many of his own Works would have brought upon him, at the time they were written. It is really a good office to Society, to expose the indiscretion of Intermedlers in the friendship and correspondence [coadjutorship] of men, whose sentiments, passions, and resentments are too great for their proportion of soul!

Could the Editor's indiscretion provoke me, even so far as (within the rules of strictest honour) I could go; and I were not restrained by supererogatory affection to dear Mr. ADDISON, I would ask this unskilful Creature, What he means, when he speaks in an air of a reproach, that the Tatler was laid down as it was taken up, without his participation? Let him speak out and say, why without his knowledge would not serve his purpose as well!

If, as he says, he restrains himself to "Mr. ADDISON's character as a Writer;" while he attempts to lessen me, he exalts me! for he has declared to all the World what I never have so explicitly done, that I am, to all intents and purposes, the Author of the Tatler! He very justly says, the occasional assistance Mr. ADDISON gave me, in the course of that Paper, "did not a little contribute to advance its reputation, especially when, upon the Change of Ministry [August, 1710], he found leisure to engage more constantly in it." It was advanced indeed! for it was raised to a greater thing than I intended it! For the elegance, purity, and correctness which appeared in his Writings were not so much my purpose; as (in any intelligible manner, as I could) to rally all those Singularities of human life, through the different Professions and Characters in it, which obstruct anything that was truly good and great.

After this Acknowledgement, you will see; that is, such a man as you will see, that I rejoiced in being excelled! and made those little talents (whatever they are) which I have, give way and be subservient to the superior qualities of a Friend, whom I loved! and whose modesty would never have admitted them to come into daylight, but under such a shelter.

So that all which the Editor has said (either out of design, or incapacity), Mr. CONGREVE! must end in this: that STEELE has been so candid and upright, that he owes nothing to Mr. ADDISON as a Writer; but whether he do, or does not, whatever STEELE owes to Mr. ADDISON, the Public owe ADDISON to STEELE!

But the Editor has such a fantastical and ignorant zeal for his Patron, that he will not allow his correspondents [coadjutors] to conceal anything of his; though in obedience to his commands!

What I never did declare was Mr. ADDISON's, I had his direct injunctions to hide; against the natural warmth and passion of my own temper towards my friends.

Many of the Writings now published as his, I have been very patiently traduced and culminated for; as they were pleasantries and oblique strokes upon certain of the wittiest men of the Age: who will now restore me to their goodwill, in proportion to the abatement of [the] Wit which they thought I employed against them.

But I was saying, that the Editor won't allow us to obey his Patron's commands in anything which he thinks would redound to his credit, if discovered. And because I would shew a little Wit in my anger, I shall have the discretion to shew you that he has been guilty, in this particular, towards a much greater man than your humble servant, and one whom you are much more obliged to vindicate.

Mr. DRYDEN, in his VIRGIL, after having acknowledged that a "certain excellent young man" [i.e., W. CONGREVE himself] had shewed him many faults in his translation of VIRGIL, which he had endeavoured to correct, goes on to say, "Two other worthy friends of mine, who desire to have their names concealed, seeing me straightened in my time, took pity on me, and gave me the Life of VIRGIL, the two Prefaces to the Pastorals and the Georgics, and all the Arguments in prose to the whole Translation." If Mr. ADDISON is one of the two friends, and the Preface to the Georgics be what the Editor calls the Essay upon the Georgics as one may adventure to say they are, from their being word for word the same, he has cast an inhuman reflection upon Mr. DRYDEN: who, though tied down not to name Mr. ADDISON, pointed at him so as all Mankind conservant in these matters knew him, with an eulogium equal to the highest merit, considering who it was that bestowed it, I could not avoid remarking upon this circumstance, out of justice to Mr. DRYDEN: but confess, at the same time, I took a great pleasure in doing it; because I knew, in exposing this outrage, I made my court to Mr. CONGREVE.

I have observed that the Editor will not let me or any one else obey Mr.
ADDISON's commands, in hiding anything he desired to be concealed.

I cannot but take further notice, that the circumstance of marking his Spectators [with the letters C, L, I, O,], which I did not know till I had done with the Work; I made my own act! because I thought it too great a sensibility in my friend; and thought it (since it was done) better to be supposed marked by me than the Author himself. The real state of which, this zealot rashly and injudiciously exposes! I ask the reader, Whether anything but an earnestness to disparage me could provoke the Editor, in behalf of Mr. ADDISON, to say that he marked it out of caution against me: when I had taken upon me to say, it was I that did it! out of tenderness to him.

As the imputation of any the Least Attempt of arrogating to myself, or detracting from Mr. ADDISON, is without any Colour of Truth: you will give me leave to go on in the same ardour towards him, and resent the cold, unaffectionate, dry, and barren manner, in which this Gentleman gives an Account of as great a Benefactor as any one Learned Man ever had of another. Would any man, who had been produced from a College life, and pushed into one of the most considerable Employments of the Kingdom as to its weight and trust, and greatly lucrative with respect to a Fellowship [i.e., of a College]: and who had been daily and hourly with one of the greatest men of the Age, be satisfied with himself, in saying nothing of such a Person besides what all the World knew! except a particularity (and that to his disadvantage!) which I, his friend from a boy, don't know to be true, to wit, that "he never had a regular pulse"!

As for the facts, and considerable periods of his life, he either knew nothing of them, or injudiciously places them in a worse light than that in which they really stood.

When he speaks of Mr. ADDISON's declining to go into Orders, his way of doing it is to lament his seriousness and modesty, which might have recommended him, proved the chief obstacles to it, it seems these qualities, by which the Priesthood is so much adorned, represented the duties of it as too weighty for him, and rendered him still more worthy of that honour which they made him decline. These, you know very well! were not the Reasons which made Mr. ADDISON turn his thoughts to the civil World; and, as you were the instrument of his becoming acquainted with my Lord HALIFAX, I doubt not but you remember the warm instances that noble Lord made to the Head of the College, not to insist upon Mr. ADDISON's going into Orders. His arguments were founded on the general pravity [depravity] and corruption of men of business [public men] who wanted liberal education. And I remember, as if I read the letter yesterday, that my Lord ended with a compliment, that "however he might be represented as no friend to the Church, he would never do it any other injury than keeping Mr. ADDISON out of it!"

The contention for this man in his early youth, among the people of greatest power; Mr. Secretary TICKELL, the Executor for his Fame, is pleased to ascribe to "a serious visage and modesty of behaviour."

When a Writer is grossly and essentially faulty, it were a jest to take notice of a false expression or a phrase, otherwise Priesthood in that place, might be observed upon; as a term not used by the real well-wishers to Clergymen, except when they would express some solemn act, and not when that Order is spoken of as a Profession among Gentlemen. I will not therefore busy myself about the "unconcerning parts of knowledge, but be content like a reader of plain sense without politeness." And since Mr. Secretary will give us no account of this Gentleman, I admit "the Alps and Apennines" instead of the Editor, to be "Commentators of his Works," which, as the Editor says, "have raised a demand for correctness." This "demand," by the way, ought to be more strong upon those who were most about him, and had the greatest advantage of his example. But as our Editor says, "that those who come nearest to exactness are but too often fond of unnatural beauties, and aim at something better than perfection."

Believe me, Sir, Mr. ADDISON's example will carry no man further than that height for which Nature capacitated him: and the affectation of following great men in works above the genius of their imitators, will never rise farther than the production of uncommon and unsuitable ornaments in a barren discourse, like flowers upon a heath, such as the Author's phrase of "something better than perfection."

But in his Preface, if ever anything was, is that "something better:" for it is so extraordinary, that we cannot say, it is too long or too short, or deny but that it is both. I think I abstract myself from all manner of prejudice when I aver that no man, though without any obligation to Mr. ADDISON, would have represented him in his family and in his friendships, or his personal character, so disadvantageously as his Secretary (in preference of whom, he incurred the warmest resentments of other Gentlemen) has been pleased to describe him in those particulars.

Mr. Dean ADDISON, father of this memorable Man, left behind him four children, each of whom, for excellent talents and singular preferments, was as much above the ordinary World as their brother JOSEPH was above them. Were things of this nature to be exposed to public view, I could shew under the Dean's own hand, in the warmest terms, his blessing on the friendship between his son and me; nor had he a child who did not prefer me in the first place of kindness and esteem, as their father loved me like one of them: and I can with pleasure say, I never omitted any opportunity of shewing that zeal for their persons and Interests as became a Gentleman and a Friend.

Were I now to indulge myself, I could talk a great deal to you, which I am sure would be entertaining: but as I am speaking at the same time to all the World, I consider it would be impertinent.

Let me then confine myself awhile to the following Play [The Drummer], which I at first recommended to the Stage, and carried to the Press.

No one who reads the Preface which I published with it, will imagine I could be induced to say so much, as I then did, had I not known the man I best loved had had a part in it; or had I believed that any other concerned had much more to do than as an amanuensis.

But, indeed, had I not known at the time of the transaction concerning the acting on the Stage and the sale of the Copy; I should, I think, have seen Mr. ADDISON in every page of it! For he was above all men in that talent we call Humour; and enjoyed it in such perfection, that I have often reflected, after a night spent with him apart from the World, that I had had the pleasure of conversing with an intimate acquaintance of TERENCE and CATULLUS, who had all their Wit and Nature heightened with Humour more exquisite and delightful than any other man ever possessed.

They who shall read this Play, after being let into the secret that it was written by Mr. ADDISON or under his direction, will probably be attentive to those excellencies which they before overlooked, and wonder they did not till now observe that there is not an expression in the whole Piece which has not in it the most nice propriety and aptitude to the Character which utters it. Here is that smiling Mirth, that delicate Satire and genteel Raillery, which appeared in Mr. ADDISON when he was free among intimates; I say, when he was free from his remarkable bashfulness, which is a cloak that hides and muffles merit: and his abilities were covered only by modesty, which doubles the beauties which are seen, and gives credit and esteem to all that are concealed.

The Drummer made no great figure on the Stage, though exquisitely well acted: but when I observe this, I say a much harder thing of the Stage, than of the Comedy.

When I say the Stage in this place, I am understood to mean, in general, the present Taste of theatrical representations: where nothing that is not violent, and as I may say, grossly delightful, can come on, without hazard of being condemned or slighted.

It is here republished, and recommended as a closet piece [i.e., for private reading], to recreate an intelligent mind in a vacant hour: for vacant the reader must be, from every strong prepossession, in order to relish an entertainment, quod nequeo monstrare et sentio tantum, which cannot be enjoyed to the degree it deserves, but by those of the most polite Taste among Scholars, the best Breeding among Gentlemen, and the least acquainted with sensual Pleasure among the Ladies.

The Editor [THOMAS TICKELL] is pleased to relate concerning CATO, that a Play under that design was projected by the Author very early, and wholly laid aside; in advanced years, he reassumed the same design; and many years after Four acts were finished, he wrote the Fifth; and brought it upon the Stage.

All the Town knows, how officious I was in bringing it on, and you (that know the Town, the Theatre, and Mankind very well) can judge how necessary it was, to take measures for making a performance of that sort, excellent as it is, run into popular applause.

I promised before it was acted (and performed my duty accordingly to the Author), that I would bring together so just an audience on the First Days of it, it should be impossible for the vulgar to put its success or due applause at any hazard: but I don't mention this, only to shew how good an Aide-de-Camp I was to Mr. ADDISON; but to shew also that the Editor does as much to cloud the merit of this Work, as I did to set it forth.

Mr. TICKELL's account of its being taken up, laid down, and at last perfected, after such long intervals and pauses, would make any one believe, who did not know Mr. ADDISON, that it was accomplished with the greatest pain and labour; and the issue rather of Learning and Industry than Capacity and Genius: but I do assure you, that never Play which could bring the author any reputation for Wit and Conduct, notwithstanding it was so long before it was finished, employed the Author so little a time in writing.

If I remember right, the Fifth Act was written in less than a week's time! For this was particular in this Writer, that when he had taken his resolution, or made his Plan for what he designed to write; he would walk about the room and dictate it into Language, with as much freedom and ease as any one could write it down: and attend to the Coherence and Grammar of what he dictated.

I have been often thus employed by him; and never took it into my head, though he only spoke it and I took all the pains of throwing it upon paper, that I ought to call myself the Writer of it.

I will put all my credit among men of Wit for the truth of my averment, when I presume to say that no one but Mr. ADDISON was, in any other way, the Writer of the Drummer.

At the same time, I will allow, that he sent for me (which he could always do, from his natural power over me, as much as he could send for any of his clerks when he was Secretary of State), and told me that a Gentleman then in the room had written a play that he was sure I would like; but it was to be a secret: and he knew I would take as much pains, since he recommended it, as I would for him.

I hope nobody will be wronged or think himself aggrieved, that I give this rejected Work [the Comedy of The Drummer not included by TICKELL in his collected edition of ADDISON's Works] where I do: and if a certain Gentleman [TICKELL] is injured by it, I will allow I have wronged him upon this issue; that if the reputed translator [TICKELL] of the First Book of HOMER shall please to give us another Book, there shall appear another good Judge in poetry, besides Mr. ALEXANDER POPE, who shall like it!

But I detain you too long upon things that are too personal to myself, and will defer giving the World a true Notion of the Character and Talents of Mr. ADDISON, till I can speak of that amiable Gentlemen on an occasion void of controversy.

I shall then perhaps say many things of him which will be new even to you, with regard to him in all parts of his Character: for which I was so zealous, that I could not be contented with praising and adorning him as much as lay in my own power; but was ever soliciting and putting my friends upon the same office.

And since the Editor [TICKELL] has adorned his heavy Discourse with Prose in rhyme at the end of it, upon Mr. ADDISON's death: give me leave to atone for this long and tedious Epistle, by giving after it, what I dare say you will esteem, an excellent Poem on his marriage [by Mr. WELSTED].

I must conclude without satisfying as strong a desire, as every man had, of saying something remarkably handsome to the Person to whom I am writing: for you are so good a judge, that you would find out the Endeavourer to be witty! and therefore, as I have tired you and myself, I will be contented with assuring you, which I do very honestly, I would rather have you satisfied with me on this subject, than any other man living.

You will please pardon me, that I have, thus, laid this nice affair before a person who has the acknowledged superiority to all others; not only in the most excellent talents; but possessing them with an equanimity, candour, and benevolence which render those advantages a pleasure as great to the rest of the World as they can be to the owner of them. And since Fame consists in the Opinion of wise and good men: you must not blame me for taking the readiest way to baffle any Attempt upon my Reputation, by an Address to one, whom every wise and good man looks upon, with the greatest affection and veneration.

I am, Sir,

Your most obliged, most obedient, and most humble servant,

RICHARD STEELE.

s foolish custom grown, that even the Christmas Pie, which in its very nature is a kind of consecrated cake and a badge of distinction, is often forbidden to the Druid of the family.

Strange! that a sirloin of beef, whether boiled or roasted, when entire, is exposed to his utmost depredations and incisions; but if minced into small pieces and tossed up with plums and sugar, it changes its property; and, forsooth, it is meat for his Master!

In this Case, I know not which to censure [blame], the Patron or the
Chaplain! the insolence of power, or the abjectness of dependence!

For my own part, I have often blushed to see a Gentleman, whom I knew to have more Wit and Learning than myself, and who was bred up with me at the University upon the same foot of a liberal education, treated in such an ignominious manner; and sunk beneath those of his own rank, by reason of that character which ought to bring him honour.

This deters men of generous minds from placing themselves in such a station of life; and by that means frequently excludes Persons of Quality from the improving and agreeable conversation of a learned and obsequious friend.

Mr. OLDHAM lets us know that he was affrighted from the thought of such an employment, by the scandalous sort of treatment, which often accompanies it.

_Some think themselves exalted to the sky,
If they light in some noble family:
Diet, a horse, and Thirty pounds a year;
Besides th' advantage of his Lordship's ear,
The credit of the business, and the State;

Are things that in a youngster's sense sound_ great.
Little the unexperienced wretch does know,
What slavery he oft must undergo!
Who, though in silken scarf and cassock drest,
Wears but a gayer livery, _at best.
When dinner calls, the Implement must wait,
With holy words to consecrate the meat:
But hold it, for a favour seldom known,
If he be deigned the honour to sit down!
Soon as the tarts appear, "Sir CRAPE, withdraw!
These dainties are not for a spiritual maw!
Observe your distance! and be sure to stand
Hard by the cistern with your cap in hand!
There, for diversion, you may pick your teeth
Till the kind Voider comes for your relief."

Let others who, such meannesses can brook,
Strike countenance to every Great Man's look:
I rate my freedom higher!_

The author's raillery is the raillery of a friend, and does not turn the Sacred Order into ridicule: but it is a just censure on such persons as take advantages from the necessities of a Man of Merit, to impose upon him hardships that are by no means suitable to the dignity of his profession.