mirror of
https://github.com/SakanaAI/doc-to-lora.git
synced 2026-05-24 14:15:15 +02:00
387 lines
17 KiB
Text
387 lines
17 KiB
Text
The Project Gutenberg eBook, Addison, by William John Courthope
|
|
|
|
|
|
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
|
|
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
|
|
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
|
|
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Title: Addison
|
|
|
|
|
|
Author: William John Courthope
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Release Date: November 27, 2012 [eBook #41496]
|
|
|
|
Language: English
|
|
|
|
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
|
|
|
|
|
|
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADDISON***
|
|
|
|
|
|
E-text prepared by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
|
|
(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by
|
|
Internet Archive (http://archive.org)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
|
|
Internet Archive. See
|
|
http://archive.org/details/addison_00cour
|
|
|
|
|
|
Transcriber's note:
|
|
|
|
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
|
|
|
|
Text enclosed by curly brackets is superscripted
|
|
(example: y{e}).
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
English Men of Letters
|
|
|
|
Edited by John Morley
|
|
|
|
ADDISON
|
|
|
|
by
|
|
|
|
W. J. COURTHOPE
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Harper & Brothers Publishers
|
|
New York and London
|
|
1902
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
ENGLISH MEN OF LETTERS.
|
|
|
|
EDITED BY JOHN MORLEY.
|
|
|
|
JOHNSON Leslie Stephen.
|
|
GIBBON J. C. Morison.
|
|
SCOTT R. H. Hutton.
|
|
SHELLEY J. A. Symonds.
|
|
HUME T. H. Huxley.
|
|
GOLDSMITH William Black.
|
|
DEFOE William Minto.
|
|
BURNS J. C. Shairp.
|
|
SPENSER R. W. Church.
|
|
THACKERAY Anthony Trollope.
|
|
BURKE John Morley.
|
|
MILTON Mark Pattison.
|
|
HAWTHORNE Henry James, Jr.
|
|
SOUTHEY E. Dowden.
|
|
CHAUCER A. W. Ward.
|
|
BUNYAN J. A. Froude.
|
|
COWPER Goldwin Smith.
|
|
POPE Leslie Stephen.
|
|
BYRON John Nichol.
|
|
LOCKE Thomas Fowler.
|
|
WORDSWORTH F. Myers.
|
|
DRYDEN G. Saintsbury.
|
|
LANDOR Sidney Colvin.
|
|
DE QUINCEY David Masson.
|
|
LAMB Alfred Ainger.
|
|
BENTLEY R. C. Jebb.
|
|
DICKENS A. W. Ward.
|
|
GRAY E. W. Gosse.
|
|
SWIFT Leslie Stephen.
|
|
STERNE H. D. Traill.
|
|
MACAULAY J. Cotter Morison.
|
|
FIELDING Austin Dobson.
|
|
SHERIDAN Mrs. Oliphant.
|
|
ADDISON W. J. Courthope.
|
|
BACON R. W. Church.
|
|
COLERIDGE H. D. Traill.
|
|
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY J. A. Symonds.
|
|
KEATS Sidney Colvin.
|
|
CARLYLE John Nichol.
|
|
|
|
12mo, Cloth, 75 cents per volume.
|
|
|
|
_Other volumes in preparation._
|
|
|
|
PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK.
|
|
|
|
_Any of the above works will be sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part
|
|
of the United States, Canada, or Mexico, on receipt of the price._
|
|
|
|
* * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CONTENTS.
|
|
|
|
|
|
PAGE
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER I.
|
|
THE STATE OF ENGLISH SOCIETY AND LETTERS
|
|
AFTER THE RESTORATION 1
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER II.
|
|
ADDISON'S FAMILY AND EDUCATION 21
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER III.
|
|
ADDISON ON HIS TRAVELS 38
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER IV.
|
|
HIS EMPLOYMENT IN AFFAIRS OF STATE 53
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER V.
|
|
THE "TATLER" AND "SPECTATOR" 78
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER VI.
|
|
"CATO" 110
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER VII.
|
|
ADDISON'S QUARREL WITH POPE 125
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER VIII.
|
|
THE LAST YEARS OF HIS LIFE 139
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER IX.
|
|
THE GENIUS OF ADDISON 153
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
ADDISON.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CHAPTER I.
|
|
|
|
THE STATE OF ENGLISH SOCIETY AND LETTERS AFTER THE RESTORATION.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Of the four English men of letters whose writings most fully embody the
|
|
spirit of the eighteenth century, the one who provides the biographer with
|
|
the scantiest materials is Addison. In his _Journal to Stella_, his social
|
|
verses, and his letters to his friends, we have a vivid picture of those
|
|
relations with women and that protracted suffering which invest with such
|
|
tragic interest the history of Swift. Pope, by the publication of his own
|
|
correspondence, has enabled us, in a way that he never intended, to
|
|
understand the strange moral twist which distorted a nature by no means
|
|
devoid of noble instincts. Johnson was fortunate in the companionship of
|
|
perhaps the best biographer who ever lived. But of the real life and
|
|
character of Addison scarcely any contemporary record remains. The formal
|
|
narrative prefixed to his works by Tickell is, by that writer's own
|
|
admission, little more than a bibliography. Steele, who might have told us
|
|
more than any man about his boyhood and his manner of life in London, had
|
|
become estranged from his old friend before his death. No writer has
|
|
taken the trouble to preserve any account of the wit and wisdom that
|
|
enlivened the "little senate" at Button's. His own letters are, as a rule,
|
|
compositions as finished as his papers in the _Spectator_. Those features
|
|
in his character which excite the greatest interest have been delineated
|
|
by the hand of an enemy--an enemy who possessed an unrivalled power of
|
|
satirical portrait-painting, and was restrained by no regard for truth
|
|
from creating in the public mind such impressions about others as might
|
|
serve to heighten the favourable opinion of himself.
|
|
|
|
This absence of dramatic incident in Addison's life would lead us
|
|
naturally to conclude that he was deficient in the energy and passion
|
|
which cause a powerful nature to leave a mark upon its age. Yet such a
|
|
judgment would certainly be erroneous. Shy and reserved as he was, the
|
|
unanimous verdict of his most illustrious contemporaries is decisive as to
|
|
the respect and admiration which he excited among them. The man who could
|
|
exert so potent an influence over the mercurial Steele, who could
|
|
fascinate the haughty and cynical intellect of Swift, whose conversation,
|
|
by the admission of his satirist Pope, had in it something more charming
|
|
than that of any other man; of whom it was said that he might have been
|
|
chosen king if he wished it; such a man, though to the coarse perception
|
|
of Mandeville he might have seemed no more than "a parson in a tye-wig,"
|
|
can hardly have been deficient in force of character.
|
|
|
|
Nor would it have been possible for a writer distinguished by mere
|
|
elegance and refinement to leave a lasting impress on the literature and
|
|
society of his country. In one generation after another, men representing
|
|
opposing elements of rank, class, interest, and taste, have agreed in
|
|
acknowledging Addison's extraordinary merits. "Whoever wishes," says
|
|
Johnson--at the end of a biography strongly coloured with the
|
|
prepossessions of a semi-Jacobite Tory--"whoever wishes to attain an
|
|
English style, familiar but not coarse, and elegant but not ostentatious,
|
|
must give his days and nights to the volumes of Addison." "Such a mark of
|
|
national respect," says Macaulay, the best representative of middle-class
|
|
opinion in the present century, speaking of the statue erected to Addison
|
|
in Westminster Abbey, "was due to the unsullied statesman, to the
|
|
accomplished scholar, to the master of pure English eloquence, to the
|
|
consummate painter of life and manners. It was due, above all, to the
|
|
great satirist who alone knew how to use ridicule without abusing it; who,
|
|
without inflicting a wound, effected a great social reform, and who
|
|
reconciled wit and virtue after a long and disastrous separation, during
|
|
which wit had been led astray by profligacy, and virtue by fanaticism."
|
|
|
|
This verdict of a great critic is accepted by an age to which the grounds
|
|
of it are, perhaps, not very apparent. The author of any ideal creation--a
|
|
poem, a drama, or a novel--has an imprescriptible property in the fame of
|
|
his work. But to harmonise conflicting social elements, to bring order out
|
|
of chaos in the sphere of criticism, to form right ways of thinking about
|
|
questions of morals, taste, and breeding, are operations of which the
|
|
credit, though it is certainly to be ascribed to particular individuals,
|
|
is generally absorbed by society itself. Macaulay's eulogy is as just as
|
|
it is eloquent, but the pages of the _Spectator_ alone will hardly show
|
|
the reader why Addison should be so highly praised for having reconciled
|
|
wit with virtue. Nor, looking at him as a critic, will it appear a great
|
|
achievement to have pointed out to English society the beauties of
|
|
_Paradise Lost_, unless it be remembered that the taste of the preceding
|
|
generation still influenced Addison's contemporaries, and that in that
|
|
generation Cowley was accounted a greater poet than Milton.
|
|
|
|
To estimate Addison at his real value we must regard him as the chief
|
|
architect of Public Opinion in the eighteenth century. But here again we
|
|
are met by an initial difficulty, because it has become almost a
|
|
commonplace of contemporary criticism to represent the eighteenth century
|
|
as a period of sheer destruction. It is tacitly assumed by a school of
|
|
distinguished philosophical writers that we have arrived at a stage in the
|
|
world's history in which it is possible to take a positive and scientific
|
|
view of human affairs. As it is of course necessary that from such a
|
|
system all belief in the supernatural shall be jealously excluded, it has
|
|
not seemed impossible to write the history of Thought itself in the
|
|
eighteenth century. And in tracing the course of this supposed continuous
|
|
stream it is natural that all the great English writers of the period
|
|
should be described as in one way or another helping to pull down, or
|
|
vainly to strengthen, the theological barriers erected by centuries of
|
|
bigotry against the irresistible tide of enlightened progress.
|
|
|
|
It would be of course entirely out of place to discuss here the merits of
|
|
this new school of history. Those who consider that, whatever glimpses we
|
|
may obtain of the law and order of the universe, man is, as he always has
|
|
been and always will be, a mystery to himself, will hardly allow that the
|
|
operations of the human spirit can be traced in the dissecting-room. But
|
|
it is, in any case, obvious that to treat the great _imaginative_ writers
|
|
of any age as if they were only mechanical agents in an evolution of
|
|
thought is to do them grave injustice. Such writers are, above all things,
|
|
creative. Their first aim is to "show the very age and body of the time
|
|
his form and pressure." No work of the eighteenth century, composed in a
|
|
consciously destructive spirit, has taken its place among the acknowledged
|
|
classics of the language. Even the _Tale of a Tub_ is to be regarded as a
|
|
satire upon the aberrations of theologians from right reason, not upon the
|
|
principles of Christianity itself. The _Essay on Man_ has, no doubt,
|
|
logically a tendency towards Deism, but nobody ever read the poem for the
|
|
sake of its philosophy; and it is well known that Pope was much alarmed
|
|
when it was pointed out to him that his conclusions might be represented
|
|
as incompatible with the doctrines of revealed religion.
|
|
|
|
The truth indeed seems to be the exact converse of what is alleged by the
|
|
scientific historians. So far from the eighteenth century in England being
|
|
an age of destructive analysis, its energies were chiefly devoted to
|
|
political, social, and literary reconstruction. Whatever revolution in
|
|
faith and manners the English nation had undergone had been the work of
|
|
the two preceding centuries, and though the historic foundations of
|
|
society remained untouched, the whole form of the superstructure had been
|
|
profoundly modified.
|
|
|
|
"So tenacious are we," said Burke, towards the close of the last
|
|
century, "of our old ecclesiastical modes and fashions of institution
|
|
that very little change has been made in them since the fourteenth or
|
|
fifteenth centuries, adhering in this particular as in all else to our
|
|
old settled maxim never entirely nor at once to depart from antiquity.
|
|
We found these institutions on the whole favourable to morality and
|
|
discipline, and we thought they were susceptible of amendment without
|
|
altering the ground. We thought they were capable of receiving and
|
|
meliorating, and, above all, of preserving the accessories of science
|
|
and literature as the order of Providence should successively produce
|
|
them. And after all, with this Gothic and monkish education (for such
|
|
it is the groundwork), we may put in our claim to as ample and early
|
|
a share in all the improvements in science, in arts, and in literature
|
|
which have illuminated the modern world as any other nation in Europe.
|
|
We think one main cause of this improvement was our not despising the
|
|
patrimony of knowledge which was left us by our forefathers."
|
|
|
|
All this is, in substance, true of our political as well as our
|
|
ecclesiastical institutions. And yet, when Burke wrote, the great feudal
|
|
and mediæval structure of England had been so transformed by the Wars of
|
|
the Roses, the Reformation, the Rebellion, and the Revolution, that its
|
|
ancient outlines were barely visible. In so far, therefore, as his words
|
|
seem to imply that the social evolution he describes was produced by an
|
|
imperceptible and almost mechanical process of national instinct, the
|
|
impression they tend to create is entirely erroneous.
|
|
|
|
If we have been hitherto saved from such corruption as undermined the
|
|
republics of Italy, from the religious wars that so long enfeebled and
|
|
divided Germany, and from the Revolution that has severed modern France
|
|
from her ancient history, thanks for this are due partly, no doubt, to
|
|
favouring conditions of nature and society, but quite as much to the
|
|
genius of great individuals who prepared the mind of the nation for the
|
|
gradual assimilation of new ideas. Thus Langland and Wycliffe and their
|
|
numerous followers, long before the Reformation, had so familiarised the
|
|
minds of the people with their ideas of the Christian religion that the
|
|
Sovereign was able to assume the Headship of the Church without the shock
|
|
of a social convulsion. Fresh feelings and instincts grew up in the hearts
|
|
of whole classes of the nation without at first producing any change in
|
|
outward habits of life, and even without arousing a sense of their logical
|
|
incongruity. These mixed ideas were constantly brought before the
|
|
imagination in the works of the poets. Shakespeare abounds with passages
|
|
in which, side by side with the old feudal, monarchical, catholic, and
|
|
patriotic instincts of Englishmen, we find the sentiments of the Italian
|
|
Renaissance. Spenser conveys Puritan doctrines sometimes by the mouth of
|
|
shepherds, whose originals he had found in Theocritus and Virgil;
|
|
sometimes under allegorical forms derived from books of chivalry and the
|
|
ceremonial of the Catholic Church. Milton, the most rigidly Calvinistic of
|
|
all the English poets in his opinions, is also the most severely classical
|
|
in his style.
|
|
|
|
It was the task of Addison to carry on the reconciling traditions of our
|
|
literature. It is his praise to have accomplished his task under
|
|
conditions far more difficult than any that his predecessors had
|
|
experienced. What they had done was to give instinctive and characteristic
|
|
expression to the floating ideas of the society about them; what Addison
|
|
and his contemporaries did was to found a public opinion by a conscious
|
|
effort of reason and persuasion. Before the Civil Wars there had been at
|
|
least no visible breach in the principle of Authority in Church and State.
|
|
At the beginning of the eighteenth century constituted authority had been
|
|
recently overthrown; one king had been beheaded, another had been
|
|
expelled; the Episcopalian form of Church Government had been violently
|
|
displaced in favour of the Presbyterian, and had been with almost equal
|
|
violence restored. Whole classes of the population had been drawn into
|
|
opposing camps during the Civil War, and still stood confronting each
|
|
other with all the harsh antagonism of sentiment inherited from that
|
|
conflict. Such a bare summary alone is sufficient to indicate the nature
|
|
of the difficulties Addison had to encounter in his efforts to harmonise
|
|
public opinion; but a more detailed examination of the state of society
|
|
after the Restoration is required to place in its full light the
|
|
extraordinary merits of the success that he achieved.
|
|
|
|
There was, to begin with, a vehement opposition between town and country.
|
|
In the country the old ideas of Feudalism, modified by circumstances, but
|
|
vigorous and deep-rooted, still prevailed. True, the military system of
|
|
land-tenure had disappeared with the Restoration, but it was not so with
|
|
the relations of life, and the habits of thought and feeling which the
|
|
system had created. The features of surviving Feudalism have been
|
|
inimitably preserved for us in the character of Sir Roger de Coverley.
|
|
Living in the patriarchal fashion, in the midst of tenants and retainers,
|
|
who looked up to him as their chief, and for whose welfare and protection
|
|
he considered himself responsible, the country gentleman valued above all
|
|
things the principle of Loyalty. To the moneyed classes in the towns he
|
|
was instinctively opposed; he regarded their interests, both social and
|
|
commercial, as contrary to his own; he looked with dislike and suspicion
|
|
on the economical principles of government and conduct on which these
|
|
classes naturally rely. Even the younger sons of county families had in
|
|
Addison's day abandoned the custom, common enough in the feudal times, of
|
|
seeking their fortune in trade. Many a Will Wimble now spent his whole
|
|
life in the country, training dogs for his neighbours, fishing their
|
|
streams, making whips for their young heirs, and even garters for their
|
|
wives and daughters.[1]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|