Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

Though we are singularly deficient in all information respecting the familiar manners of a person so distinguished, these terms are not descriptive of the influence and character of an intemperate man; and since there is no shadow of authority to charge him with excess save that of Spence, and his information was derived from Pope, who cherished hatred and horror for the "little senate at Button's," we shall hold ourselves excused from believing it, balancing the general character of Addison against the unsustained aspersions of an angry foe.

We do not think it necessary to dwell at length on the story said to have been told by Voltaire, of his having dined in company with Addison when in England, and left him in a state of intoxication which was painful to see. Voltaire may have said it, for he was not very choice in his asseverations; but there is a difficulty in the way of believing it, arising from the fact, that he did not visit England till 1726, and Addison died five years before. It is clear that he was not in the company of Addison while living; whether he has fallen' in with him since, we have no means of ascertaining.

It is singular, and not very creditable to Pope, that every story which has ever been told to the disadvantage of Addison proceeds from him, and is based on his authority alone. It is from him we learn that Addison, when he was secretary to the Regency, was called upon to write notice to Hanover that the queen was dead. "To do this," says Johnson, "would not have been difficult for any man but Addison, who was so overwhelmed by the greatness of the event, and so distracted by the choice of expressions, that the Lords, who could not wait for the niceties of criticism, called Mr. Southwell, clerk of the House, and ordered him to despatch the message." Now, though Addison used Pope civilly ever after" their alienation, it does not seem likely that he would have gone to him with this auricular confession. Besides, it gives the impression that the queen's death took them all by storm; yet the Lords Justices were appointed after her death by the Council, and they, at their meeting, had chosen Addison their secretary, and notified him of his election, so that he had ample time to recover from the shock of that affliction, which, as it restored the ascendency of his own party, was not likely to break his heart. It also appears, that the Earl of Dorset was the

66

living letter sent over to announce the event, and to invite the Elector to the vacant throne; so that it is not probable that Addison was ever brought to this disastrous pass. Had it been so, there is a possibility that, with his long practice in public affairs, and his eminently simple and natural style, in which he no more dealt in choice expressions than in Johnson's heavy cannonade of words, he might have found terms to communicate to the Elector the fact that the throne was vacant, which required neither flourish nor lamentation to make the news go down.

It is to the same amiable authority to which we have referred, and to no other, that we are indebted for the story, that Addison resigned his office because he was incompetent to discharge its duties. But it is ridiculous to suppose, that with his ability and experience of public affairs, he could not do what was so often and so easily done by far inferior men ; for he was no retired scholar untrained in this world's affairs, but a man whose education and habits of life were precisely adapted for the station, with the single exception of speaking in Parliament, which was not expected of him, and which he never undertook to do. The cause of his retirement is obvious enough; it was the disease of which we have spoken; his letters speak of long and dangerous fits of sickness, which made his friends anxious, as we learn from Vincent Bourne, who celebrated his recovery, and which may have rendered him unequal to the station, though not for the reasons which Pope's insinuation would imply. It is to be hoped, however, that they gave him credit for some honorable reason for retiring, when he died in the following year, unless, indeed, the same charity which construed severe disease into incompetency had charged his death upon him as a sin.

The subject of Addison's marriage is enveloped in a strange darkness. In this, however, his character is not concerned. Many wise men of mature age involve themselves in this kind of difficulty, from which, when they find their mistake, they cannot easily be extricated. But it is edifying to see, that our impression of the unhappiness of his marriage with the Countess of Warwick rests upon a "perhaps "of Johnson. He, in his blind reverence for rank and title, did not perceive that the high political standing of Addison, together with his literary fame, made him rather more than equal to the widow of a declining house; for she was

not of the family which now bears the name; and, having once taken his own view of the matter, his ponderous fancy went on in its career of invention with nothing to stop its wheels. Johnson says, he first became acquainted with the lady from having been tutor to her son. But there is no proof that he ever held this charge; and being at the time in the office of under-secretary of state, it is not very likely that he officiated as tutor to a boy ten years old. That he did take an interest in the youth is certain from his letters, and he did so probably from regard to his mother; but how or when he formed her acquaintance we are not informed. Johnson also quotes from Tonson," He formed the design of getting that lady, from the time he was first recommended into the family.' Jacob was certainly an extraordinary person to intrust a love-tale with, and if Addison gave him his confidence on such a matter, he placed more trust in his discretion than most other men would have done.

[ocr errors]

The great critic seems to have been aware, that the world would think it well for him to give some authority besides his own imagination for stating that the marriage was unhappy ; but "uncontradicted report" is all the testimony he can bring. But who was to contradict it? Addison might never have heard of it; if he had, he does not seem very likely to have published a manifesto assuring the world that he was not the distressed object they took him for; nor had he descendants to rise up in after days and vindicate his married fame. Johnson might have received a lesson, had he known what was said by his friends of his own fair bride, of her coarse and vulgar airs, and the selfishness with which she indulged herself at great expense in country air and other elements somewhat stronger, while he was laboring with his pen in London. Had the world known nothing more, they might reasonably have inferred that his own connection was no fountain of delight. And yet there is no doubt that he sincerely loved and deplored his wife.

There is something unpardonably rash in the manner in which he has descanted on this part of Addison's history, without even Spence to sustain him. The only fact which we know in relation to it implies that the connection was happy, and not wanting in that mutual confidence which forms its greatest blessing. In Addison's will, dated a month before his death, he left his whole estate, real and

personal, to his lady; at their marriage, instead of being enriched by the connection, he had settled property on her; his words are, "I do make and ordain my dear wife executrix of this my last will; and I do appoint her to be guardian of my dear child Charlotte Addison, until she attain the age of one-and-twenty; being well assured that she will take good care of her education and maintenance, and provide for her in case she live to be married." Any body who chooses may believe that such a man would intrust his only child to the care of one who had made his home so miserable that he was driven to spend his evenings in a tavern ; but with us, this undoubted expression of confidence weighs more in her favor than any amount of conjecture on the other side. For this woman, it must be remembered, had a son and daughters by her former marriage; and a father must have been more unnatural than we think he was, if he had left his own child a helpless prisoner in a house which is said to have been intolerable to himself.

There is one passage in Addison's history on which we cannot dwell with satisfaction, though the only reproach which it brings is that of yielding for a moment to the exasperation of feeling into which the best men may sometimes fall. When he left office for ever, parties were raging high, and Steele, whose reputation and fortunes had been shattered by his follies, undertook the management of a paper which he called the Plebeian, in opposition to the Peerage bill, which was intended to abridge that power of the crown which had created twelve peers at once in Harley's administration, to secure a majority in the House of Lords. Some of the Whigs opposed the measure, and among them Steele; who was answered in the Old Whig, in a paper written with such force of thought and style, that Addison was known at once to be the writer. It contained no personal allusions, and though earnest in its argument, had nothing in it meant to inflict a personal wound. Not so with Steele's reply; it was angry and bitter, accusing the Old Whig of deserting his principles, and treating him in a manner which seems unaccountable to those who have never seen kind hearts possessed with the devil of party. In his retort, Addison was provoked to some personal and contemptuous expressions, such as he had never used before. The next number of the Plebeian showed that Steele was deeply wounded by the VOL. LXIV. - No. 135.

32

treatment which he had brought upon himself; and as Johnson says, Every reader must regret that these two illustrious friends, after so many years passed in confidence and endearment, in unity of interest, conformity of opinion, and fellowship of study, should finally part in acrimonious opposition." But so unfortunately it was; and yet we cannot believe that Steele would have written as he did, could he have thought that his former friend would read it almost with his dying eyes. We are authorized to believe that Addison regretted his share in it, from the circumstance that Tickell did not mention this paper in his works, nor insert it among his other writings; and that Steele's resentment was momentary, we may infer from his afterwards mentioning Addison in a letter to Congreve as "the man that he loved best."

The dying scene of Addison was an appropriate close to such a life; the support of that religion which he had followed through all his days was present to brighten the deathbed in his closing hour. Miss Aikin inclines, from internal evidence, to distrust the story told by Dr. Young, of his sending for the young Earl of Warwick, that he might see how a Christian could die. She thinks that it appears too much like display to be consistent with his humble and retiring spirit; but it is going quite too far to discredit a circumstantial statement made on such authority, merely because it does not agree with our notions of what beseems such a place and hour. We can see no such aiming at effect, nor does it savour in the least of ostentation. The young man probably, like too many persons of his rank and age, had no faith in religious feeling; like others, who have known nothing of it from their own experience, he did not believe in its existence, not reflecting that he could not pronounce upon the genuineness of that which he did not know. To us, it seems perfectly natural that Addison, earnest to undeceive him, should have taken that course to show him that religion was not a name and a profession, but a real and substantial thing, which, though unseen, has power to sustain the dying when the shadows of death are falling and the world is passing away.

Before his death, he sent for Gay, with whom he had not been familiar, and, after receiving him with great kindness, asked his forgiveness of some former wrong; he did not say what it was, and Gay never was able to conjecture what it

« ZurückWeiter »