There are many shades of this unsoundness of mind, before it reaches the point at which responsibility ceases. Where that line is, and when the wayward mind passes over it, can be determined only by Him who reads the heart. There are many cases in which it would be consoling to believe, in spite of modern theologians, that demoniacal possession has not yet wholly ceased from the world.

Considering what Swift's character was, there was something remarkable in his constant respect and attachment for Addison, who was so prominent in the opposite party. Addison regarded him as the first writer of the age, and he, with the greatest deference for Addison's ability, paid a still more enviable homage to his acknowledged virtues. Even when there had been something like estrangement between them, on account of politics, he wrote to Stella, "I yet know no man half so agreeable to me as he is." When Addison first went to Ireland, Swift expressed the hope, in a letter to Archbishop King, that business might not spoil the best man in the world. To Addison himself he says, that every creature in the island who had a grain of worth venerated him, the Tories contending with the Whigs which should say the most in his praise; and if he chose to be king of Ireland, there was not a doubt that all would submit to his power. At the same time, he says, "I know there is nothing in this to make you of more value to yourself; and yet it ought to convince you that the Irish are not an undistinguishing people."

When Addison was in England, and Swift was daily expecting to hear of the predominance of his own party, he wrote to the Whig secretary to learn whether it was expedient to come over, knowing that he could trust his friendship and wisdom, though on the opposite side. His aim appears to have been a prebend then held by South; but the old man, who was never particularly complaisant, was not disposed to die in order to oblige him. Addison was also consulted with the same sort of confidence by Wharton, who wished to hold his post to the last moment, and not resign till the new ministry were likely, if he delayed, to save him the trouble. But in those times of fierce excitement, when the nation was stunned by the fall of Marlborough, it was not possible for a man with Addison's powers to remain an inactive observer. He soon began to

write in reply to the Examiner, then conducted by Prior, a deserter from the Whigs; and, without answering in the same tone of abuse which Prior employed, he showed how easy it was to put him down. Prior had brought forward in one of his papers the letter of a solemn correspondent, who recommended the Examiner to the people; Addison said it reminded him of a physician in Paris, who walked the streets with a boy before him proclaiming, "My father cures all sorts of diseases!" to which the doctor responded, in a grave and composed manner, "The child says nothing but the truth!”

When the Whig Examiner, in which Addison wrote, came to an end, Swift rejoiced in his journal to Stella, that it was at last" down among the dead men," using the words of a popular song of the day. Johnson, though of the same party, remarks," He might well rejoice at the death of that which he could not have killed.” The critic, with unusual impartiality, goes on to say, that since party malevolence has died away (it is pleasant to know that party spirit is not immortal), every reader must wish for more of the Whig Examiners; since on no occasion was the genius of the writer more vigorously exerted, and the superiority of his powers more evidently displayed. Swift did not begin writing for the Examiner till Addison had ceased from the Whig Examiner; they met often and with mutual satisfaction, but on some points there was necessarily a reserve. Swift remarks in his journal,-"We are as good friends as ever, but we differ a little about party." At a later period, — "I love him as much as ever, though we seldom meet." Early in the next year, he speaks of their never meeting; but in the autumn he records that he supped at Addison's lodgings, and says, that there was no man whose society was so attractive.

The alienation seems to have been wholly on Swift's side; it arose from his identifying Addison and Steele, for which he had no reason, and considering the former as laid under obligation by his attempts to save the latter. It is clear that Addison had no concern with Steele's contrivances to secure a plank for himself at the shipwreck of his party; he did not choose to talk with Swift on the subject, and the successful politician was wounded by this reserve. He complained that Addison hindered Steele from soliciting his

services, because he did not wish that his thoughtless friend should be obliged to a Tory; while, in the same sentence, he says that Addison is asking his good offices to make another friend secretary in Geneva, which he shall use his influence to do. Even so it is with the jealous, ready to believe impossible contradictions. He resents Addison's unwillingness to ask a favor for one friend at the very moment when he is asking one for another. Truly, it must have required all Addison's wisdom, or rather his unconscious integrity, to avoid giving irritation to such a temper as this.

Johnson, speaking of Swift's kind services to Addison and his friends, says he wished others to believe what he probably believed himself, that they were indebted to his influence for keeping their places; a form of expression which implies that the Doctor himself did not put implicit faith in his power. But the queen's death finished that overthrow of the Tory party which the quarrels of Oxford and Bolingbroke had begun, and Swift, losing by it the grant of a thousand pounds from the treasury, which he surrendered multa gemens, retreated to his deanery in Ireland, a home which he detested, but which was the only preferment that the ministers dared to give to a person of such unclerical fame. When Addison went again to Ireland as secretary to Sunderland, that nobleman, who, with a most affectionate indulgence for himself, was rather unforgiving to others, desired that he would hold no communication with Swift; but with a spirit which did him honor, Addison chose to be the judge of his own society, and refused to give the pledge required. There is reason to suppose that they met in Ireland, though nothing is particularly set down respecting it; and it is well known that they corresponded with each other till the death of Addison, each maintaining the greatest respect and regard for the other. Now, obviously, no man was ever less gifted with reverence by nature than Swift; no one ever had a sharper eye to look through the follies and weaknesses of other men ; and it does seem to us, that his profound respect and confidence afford a better testimonial to the excellence of Addison than volumes of mere enthusiastic praise.

While the Whig party was shivering in the wind, and after it had gone down, Addison was more at leisure for literary labors. With the single exception of the Whig Examiner, and some not very complimentary notice of

Sacheverel, that ridiculous creature, who contrived to lift himself into a moment's notoriety, mistaking it for fame, he does not seem to have concerned himself much with public affairs. Meantime, Steele, who had great activity of mind together with his well known warmth of heart, and was not without that ability which perpetual action gives, had formed the plan of a periodical, to appear three times in the week, intended to contain observations on life and manners, together with the usual matter of newspapers. From its

novelty, it met with some success; and Addison, who was then in Ireland, accidentally meeting with some numbers of it, detected its author at once, by a remark which he had himself communicated to Steele, and which he knew was not likely to be indigenous in any common editor's head.

Steele was excellent at suggesting all manner of plans; he was not without resources himself; and he had extraordinary talents for securing the aid of others, and saving himself that labor in which he never delighted. By taking the name of Bickerstaff for the imaginary editor of the Tatler, he attracted attention, that being the name under which Swift had lately satirized Partridge, the almanac-maker, to death. This compliment, as was probably intended, secured the favor and assistance of the Dean. But the greatest windfall was the disposition of Addison to come to the rescue; and surely never was there a channel better suited to make public those treasures of sharp observation, critical remark, and thoughtful humor in which he abounded, and which, if not published anonymously, and in this light and piecemeal form, might have been entirely lost to the world. Steele, who was never deficient in good feeling, was glad beyond measure when he found what aid he had the prospect of receiving; he had no jealousy of that genius which he knew was to make such overshadowing eclipse of his own. In fact, he says that he rejoiced in being excelled; influenced in part, doubtless, by a regard to the circulation of the paper, the profit of which was quite important to his precarious resources, but also enjoying the honor of heralding such talent as that of Addison, and claiming that gratitude for the service which the world was ready to give.

The world had more reason to be grateful for the service actually rendered by these publications, than it was able to estimate at the time; afterwards, the change of manners

which they were so instrumental in producing evidently appeared to be a signal improvement, as well as a muchneeded blessing. The word gentleman at that time was a word without a substantial meaning; it simply denoted one who was not born to the worldly grandeur of nobleman, baronet, or 'squire. Nothing like refinement of manners or cultivation of mind was necessarily associated with it. So far as wigs, red heels, and similar decorations could invest one with the aspect of civilization, they were faithfully applied; but though the faith yet lingers in the world, it is a mistake to suppose that tailors and hair-dressers can make a gentleman; and after all those decorations were put on, it was felt that the gilding on the outside of the platter could not supply the place of that cleanness within in which it was so wretchedly wanting. Not much could be gained by the teaching of foreign masters. Louis the Fourteenth, who was careful never to pass a chambermaid without raising his hat, was coarse as sea-sand in the substantial reality of refinement in the domestic and social relations; and in England, whatever conventional system of manners might be ordained, the barbarism of party spirit, intemperate excess, and licentious indulgence was perpetually breaking through. It was necessary for some commanding influence to be exerted strongly enough to lift those virtues which were in low esteem, to put fashionable Vandalism to shame, to raise the woman above the courtesan, the flirt, or even the lady, and to show that the coxcomb, like Beau Fielding, the automaton with a title, or even coronets and orders without heads and hearts under them, were poor varieties of manufacture, compared with the real man.

It may have been, that there was a strong feeling standing ready to welcome the right kind of reformer. The beastly excesses of Charles's court must have produced a reaction in favor of decency, at least, if not of virtue; and after the Revolution of 1688, the sovereign did not encourage rakes and rascals as much as he had done before. Still, though the evil of immorality did not show itself in the highest places as it did in that Pandemonium where such low bipeds as Sedley and Buckingham held sway, it was powerful, and prevailed to such a degree that it required a master to put it down. The right kind of reformer is one who understands the nature of the temptation, and the way VOL. LXIV. - No. 135.

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