STEELE. courage any impulses towards it. The ever. But let us consider what is truly glorious according to the author I have to-day quoted in the front of my paper. The perfection of glory, says Tully, consists in these three particulars: That the people love us; that they have confidence in us; that being affected with a certain admiration towards us, they think we deserve honour. This was spoken of greatness in a commonwealth: But if one were to form a notion of consummate glory under our constitution, one must add to the above-mentioned felicities a certain necessary inexistence, and disrelish of all the rest, without He should, methe prince's favour. thinks, have riches, power, honour, command, glory; but riches, power, honour, command and glory should have no charms, but as accompanied with the He should, affection of his prince. methinks, be popular because a favourite, and a favourite because popular. Were it not to make the character too imaginary, I would give him sovereignty over some foreign territory, and make him esteem that an empty addition without the kind regards of his own prince. One may merely have an idea of man thus composed and circumstantiated, and if he were so made for power without an incapacity of giving jealousy, he would be also glorious without possibility of receiving disgrace. This humility and this importance must make his glory immortal. These thoughts are apt to draw me beyond the usual length of this paper, but if I could suppose such rhapsodies could outlive the common fate of ordinary things, I would say these sketches and faint images of glory were drawn in August 1711, when John duke of Marlborough made that memorable march wherein he took the French lines without bloodshed. THE ENVIOUS MAN. The envious man is in pain upon all occasions which ought to give him The relish of his life is inpleasure. verted; and the objects which administer the highest satisfaction to those who are exempt from this passion, give the quickest pangs to persons who are subject to it. All the perfections of their fellow-creatures are odious: youth, beauty, valour, and wisdom are provocations of their displeasure. What a wretched and apostate state is this! To be offended with excellence, and to hate a man because we approve him! The condition of the envious man is the most emphatically miserable; he is not only incapable of rejoicing in another's merit or success, but lives in a world wherein all mankind are in a plot against his quiet, by studying their own happiness Will Prosper is an and advantage. honest tale-bearer, he makes it his business to join in conversation with envious He points to such a handsome men. young fellow, and whispers that he is secretly married to a great fortune: when they doubt, he adds circumstances to prove it; and never fails to aggravate their distress, by assuring 'em that, to his knowledge, he has an uncle who will leave him some thousands. has many arts of this kind to torture this sort of temper, and delights in it. When he finds them change colour, and say faintly they wish such a piece of news is true, he has the malice to speak some good or other of every man of their acquaintance. Will The reliefs of the envious man are those little blemishes and imperfections that discover themselves in an illustrious character. It is matter of great when person, consolation to an envious a man of known honour does a thing unworthy himself. Or when any action which was well executed, upon better information appears so altered in its circumstances, that the fame of it is This is a secret divided among many, instead of being attributed to satisfaction to these malignants; for the person whom they before could not but admire, they fancy is nearer their one. own condition as soon as his merit is shared among others. I remember some years ago there came out an excellent poem without the name of the author. The little wits, who were incapable of writing it, began to pull in pieces the supposed writer. When that would not do, they took great pains to suppress the opinion that it was his. That again failed. The next refuge was to say it was overlooked (1) by one man, and many pages wholly written by another. An honest fellow who sat among a cluster of them in debate on this subject, cried out, Gentlemen, if you are sure none of you yourselves had a hand in it, you are but where you were, whoever writ it. But the most usual succour to the envious, in cases of nameless merit in this kind, is to keep the property, if possible, unfixed, and by that means to hinder the reputation of it from falling upon any particular person. You see an envious man clear up his countenance, if in the relation of any man's great happiness in one point, you mention his uneasiness in another. When he hears such a one is very rich he turns pale, but recovers when you add that he has many children. In a word, the only sure way to an envious man's favour is not to deserve it. But if we consider the envious man in delight, it is like reading the seat of a giant in a romance; the magnificence of his house consists in the many limbs of men whom he has slain. If any who promised themselves success in any uncommon undertaking miscarry in the attempt, or he that aimed at what would have been useful and laudable, meets with contempt and derision, the envious man, under the colour of hating vain-glory, can smile with an inward wantonness of heart at the ill effect it may have upon an honest ambition for the future. Having thoroughly considered the nature of this passion, I have made it my study to avoid the envy that may accrue to me from these my speculations; and if I am,not mistaken in myself, I think I have a genius to escape it. Upon hearing in a coffeehouse one of my papers commended, I immediately apprehended the envy that would spring from that applause: and therefore gave a description of my face the next day; being resolved, as I grow in reputation for wit, to resign my pretensions to beauty. This, I hope, may give some ease to these unhappy gentlemen, who do me the honour to torment themselves upon the account of this my paper. As their case is very deplorable, and deserves compassion, I shall sometimes be dull, in pity to them, and will from time to time administer consolations to them by further discoveries of my person. In the mean while, if any one says the Spectator has wit. it may be some relief to them, to think that he does not shew it in company. And if any one praises his morality, they may comfort themselves by considering that his face is none of the longest. JOSEPH ADDISON. JOSEPH ADDISON, born in 1672, was the son of a country-gentleman, and received his early education at the Charter-house in London, where he first became acquainted with Sir Richard Steele, with whom he was afterwards associated in writing the Tatler' and 'Spectator. In 1693 he obtained at St. Alban Hall, Oxford, the degree of Master of Arts, and from this period his career was exceedingly prosperous. In 1695 he published a poem on William III. and addressed it to Lord Somers; this procured him the favour of the king and an annual pension of L. 300: at the same time he wrote other poems of less merit. The death of King William deprived him of his pension, but (1) Revised. soon afterwards a poem called The Campaign,* ‹ n Marlborough and the battle of Blenheim appeared, for which he was rewarded with the situation of Commissioner of the Appeals. In 1700 he was made UnderSecretary of State to Sir Charles Hedge, and cent tinued in office under the Earl of Sunderland. Ab this time he composed an opera and a comedy, whic were however not well received. In 1708 Addisoit entered parliament, but he was of too timid a dispos tion to appear as a public speaker: he became afterwards Chief Secretary for Ireland and Secretar of State. In 1708 he accompanied the Marquis Wharton to Ireland, and there commenced writing periodicals. In 1709 the Tatler, a literary journal founded by Sir Richard Steele, made its first appe ADDISON. ance: Addison soon took part in it, and continued his assistance till it ceased to be published. The Tatler' was superseded by the 'Spectator, in which the principal essays and literary productions of Addison appeared; and the service which he rendered his country by these writings cannot be too highly appreciated. He at once refined and elevated the taste and tone of society in general, and brought knowledge and information within the reach of all classes. In 1713 his celebrated tragedy of 'Cato' was first performed and THE POLITICAL UPHOLsterer. There lived some years since, within my neighbourhood, a very grave person, an upholsterer, who seemed a man of more than ordinary application to business. He was a very early riser, and was often abroad two or three hours before any of his neighbours. He had a particular carefulness in the knitting of his brows, and a kind of impatience in all his motions, that plainly discovered he was always intent on matters of importance. Upon my enquiry into his life and conversation, I found him to be the greatest newsmonger in our quarter; that he rose before day to read the Postman, and that he would take two or three turns to the other end of the town before his neighbours were up, to see if there were any Dutch mails come in. He had a wife and several children; but was much more inquisitive to know what passed in Poland than in his own family, and was in greater, pain and anxiety of mind for King Augustus's welfare than that of his nearest relations. He looked extremely thin in a dearth of news, and never enjoyed himself in a westerly wind. This indefatigable kind of life was the ruin of his shop; for about the time that his favourite prince left the crown of Poland, he broke and disappeared. This man and his affairs had been long out of my mind, till about three days ago, as I was walking in St. James's Park, I heard somebody at a distance hemming after me: and who should it be but my old neighbour the upholsterer? I saw he was reduced to extreme poverty, by certain shabby superfluities in his dress: for notwithstanding that it was a very sultry day for the time of the year, he wore a loose great-coat and a muff, with a long campaign wig out of curl; to which he had added the ornament of a pair of black garters buckled under the knee. Upon his coming up to me, I was going to enquire into his present circumstances; but was prevented by his asking me, with a whisper, whether the last letters brought any accounts that one might rely upon from Bender? I told him, none that I heard of; and asked him, whether he had yet married his eldest daughter? He told me, no. But pray, says he, tell me sincerely, what are your thoughts of the King of Sweden? for though his wife and children were starving, I found his chief concern at present was for this great monarch. I told him, that I looked upon him as one of the first heroes of But pray, says he, do you the age. think there is any thing in the story And finding me surof his wound? I answered, it to you. prised at the question, Nay, says he, I only propose that I thought there was no reason to doubt of it. But why in the heel, says he, more than in any other part of the body? Because, said I, the bullet chanced to light there. This extraordinary dialogue was no sooner ended, but he began to launch out into a long dissertation upon the affairs of the north; and after having spent some time on them, he told me, he was in a great perplexity how to reconcile the Supplement with the English Post, and had been just now examining what the other papers say upon the same subject. The Daily Courant, says he, has these words, 'We have advices from very good hands, that a certain prince has some matters of great importance under consideration.' This is very mysterious; but the Postboy leaves us more in the dark, for he tells us, that there are private intimations of measures taken by a certain prince, which time will bring to light. Now the Postman, says he, who uses to be very clear, refers to the same news in these words, "The late conduct of a certain prince affords great matter of speculation. This certain prince, says the upholsterer, whom they are all so cautious of naming, I take to be Upon which, though there was nobody near us, he whispered something in my ear, which I did not hear, or think worthy my while to make him repeat. sun We were now got to the upper end of the Mall, where were three or four very odd fellows sitting together upon the bench. These I found were all of them politicians, who used to themselves in that place every day about dinner time. Observing them to be curiosities in their kind, and my friend's acquaintance, I sat down among them. The chief politician of the bench was a great asserter of paradoxes. He told us, with a seeming concern, that by some news he had lately read from Muscovy, it appeared to him that there was a storm gathering in the Black Sea, which might in time do hurt to the naval forces of this nation. To this he added, that for his part, he could not wish to see the Turk driven out of Europe, which he believed could not but be prejudicial to our woollen manufacture. He then told us, that he looked upon those extraordinary revolutions, which had lately happened in those parts of the world, to have risen chiefly from two persons who were not much talked of; and those, says he, are Prince Menzikoff, and the Duchess of Mirandola. He backed his assertions with so many broken hints, and such a shew of depth and wisdom, that we gave ourselves up to his opinions. The discourse at length fell upon a point which seldom escapes a knot of true-born Englishmen, whether, in case of a religious war, the Protestants would not be too strong for the Papists? This we unanimously determined on the Pro testants' side. One who sat on my right hand, and, as I found by his discourse, had been in the West Indies, assured us, that it would be a very easy matter for the Protestants to beat the pope at sea; and added, that whenever such a war does break out, it must turn to the good of the Leeward Islands. Upon this, one who sat at the end of the bench, and, as I afterwards found, was the geographer of the company, said, that in case the Papists should drive the Protestants from these parts of Europe, when the worst came to the worst, it would be impossible to beat them out of Norway and Greenland, provided the northern crowns hold together, and the Czar of Muscovy stand neuter. He further told us for our comfort, that there were vast tracts of lands about the pole, inhabited neither by Protestants nor Papists, and of greater extent than all the Roman Catholic dominions in Europe. When we had fully discussed this point, my friend the upholsterer began to exert himself upon the present negociations of peace in which he deposed princes, settled the bounds of kingdoms, and balanced the power of Europe, with great justice and impartiality. I at length took my leave of the company and was going away; but had not gone thirty yards, before the upholsterer hemmed again after me. Upon his advancing towards me, with a whisper, I expected to hear some secret piece of news, which he had not thought fit to communicate to the bench; but instead of that, he desired me in my ear to lend him half-a-crown. In compassion to so needy a statesman, and to dissipate the confusion I found he was in, I told him, if he pleased I would give him five shillings, to receive five pounds of him when the great Turk was driven out of Constantinople; whic he very readily accepted, but not before he had laid down to me the impossibility of such an event, as the affairs of Europe now stand. ON POLITENESS. There is nothing, says Plato, so delightful, as the hearing or the speaking of Truth. For this reason there is no conversation so agreeable as that of the man of integrity, who hears without any intention to betray, and speaks without any intention to deceive. Among all the accounts which are given of Cato, I do not remember one that more redounds to his honour than the following passage related by Plutarch. As an advocate was pleading the cause of his client before one of the prætors, he could only produce a single witness in a point where the law required the testimony of two persons; upon which the advocate insisted on the integrity of that person whom he had produced: but the prætor told him, that where the law required two witnesses he would not accept of one, tho' it were Cato himself. Such a speech from a person who sat at the head of a court of justice, while Cato was still living, shews us, more than a thousand examples, the high reputation this great man had gained among his contemporaries upon the account of his sincerity. When such an inflexible integrity is a little softened and qualified by the rules of conversation and good-breeding, there is not a more shining virtue in the whole catalogue of social duties. A man however ought to take great care not to polish himself out of his veracity, nor to refine his behaviour to the prejudice of his virtue. I have by me a letter which I look upon as a great curiosity, and which may serve as an exemplification to the foregoing passage, cited out of this most excellent prelate. It is said to have been written in King Charles II.'s reign by the ambassador of Bantam, a little after his arrival in England. 'Master, The people, where I now am, have tongues further from their hearts than from London to Bantam, and thou knowest the inhabitants of one of these places do not know what is done in the other. They call thee and thy sub jects barbarians, because we speak what we mean; and account themselves a civilized people, because they speak one thing and mean another: truth they call barbarity, and falsehood politeness. Upon my first landing, one who was sent from the king of this place to meet me, told me, that he was extremely sorry for the storm I had met with just before my arrival. I was troubled to hear him grieve and afflict himself upon my account; but in less than a quarter of an hour he smiled, and was as merry as if nothing had happened. Another who came with him told me by my interpreter, he should be glad to do me any service that lay in his power. Upon which I desir'd him to carry one of my portmanteaus for me; but instead of serving me according to his promise, he laughed, and bid another do it. I lodged, the first week, at the house of one who desired me to think myself at home, and to consider his house as my own. Accordingly, I the next morning began to knock down one of the walls of it, in order to let in the fresh air, and had packed up some of the householdgoods, of which I intended to have made thee a present; but the false varlet no sooner saw me falling to work but he sent word to desire me to give over, for that he would have no such doings in his house. I had not been long in this nation, before I was told by one, for whom I had asked a certain favour from the chief of the king's servants, whom they here call the lord-treasurer, that I had eternally obliged him. I was so surpris'd at this gratitude, that I could not forbear saying, what service is there which one man can do for another, that can oblige him to all eternity! 'At my first going to court, one of the great men almost put me out of countenance, by asking ten thousand pardons of me for only treading by accident upon my toe. They call this kind of lie a compliment; for when they are civil to a great man, they tell him untruths, for which thou wouldst order any of the officers of state to receive |
