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Read books online » Fiction » Lives Of The Poets, Vol. 1 (fiscle part-III) by Samuel Johnson (best beach reads TXT) 📖

Book online «Lives Of The Poets, Vol. 1 (fiscle part-III) by Samuel Johnson (best beach reads TXT) 📖». Author Samuel Johnson



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Ignorance Or By

Courtesy, Confined himself To His Question, Without Any Personal Notice

Of His Opponent.

 

 

 

Nothing, Hitherto, Was Committed against The Laws Of Friendship, Or

Proprieties Of Decency; But Controvertists Cannot Long Retain Their

Kindness For Each Other. The Old Whig Answered the Plebeian, And Could

Not Forbear Some Contempt Of "Little Dicky, Whose Trade It Was To Write

Pamphlets." Dicky, However, Did Not Lose His Settled veneration For His

Friend; But Contented himself With Quoting some Lines Of Cato, Which

Were At Once Detection And Reproof. The Bill Was Laid Aside During that

Session; And Addison Died before The Next, In which Its Commitment Was

Rejected by Two Hundred and Sixty-Five To One Hundred and Seventy-Seven.

 

 

 

Every Reader Surely 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. Such A Controversy Was "Bellum Plusquam

_Civile_," As Lucan Expresses It. Why Could Not Faction Find Other

Advocates? But, Among The Uncertainties Of The Human State, We Are Doomed

To Number The Instability Of Friendship.

 

 

 

Of This Dispute I Have Little Knowledge But From The Biographica

Britannica. The Old Whig Is Not Inserted in addison'S Works; Nor Is It

Mentioned by Tickell In his Life; Why It Was Omitted, The Biographers,

Doubtless, Give The True Reason; The Fact Was Too Recent, And Those Who

Had Been Heated in the Contention Were Not Yet Cool.

 

 

 

The Necessity Of Complying with Times, And Of Sparing persons, Is The

Great Impediment Of Biography. History May Be Formed from Permanent

Monuments And Records; But Lives Can Only Be Written From Personal

Knowledge, Which Is Growing every Day Less, And In a Short Time Is Lost

For Ever. What Is Known Can Seldom Be Immediately Told; And When It Might

Be Told, It Is No Longer Known. The Delicate Features Of The Mind, The

Nice Discriminations Of Character, And The Minute Peculiarities Of

Conduct, Are Soon Obliterated; And It Is Surely Better That Caprice,

Obstinacy, Frolick, And Folly, However They Might Delight In the

Description, Should Be Silently Forgotten, Than That, By Wanton Merriment

And Unseasonable Detection, A Pang Should Be Given To A Widow, A

Daughter, A Brother, Or A Friend. As The Process Of These Narratives Is

Now Bringing me Among My Contemporaries, I Begin To Feel Myself "Walking

Upon Ashes Under Which The Fire Is Not Extinguished," And Coming to The

Time Of Which It Will Be Proper Rather To Say "Nothing that Is False,

Than All That Is True."

 

 

 

The End Of This Useful Life Was Now Approaching. Addison Had, For Some

Time, Been Oppressed by Shortness Of Breath, Which Was Now Aggravated

By A Dropsy; And, Finding his Danger Pressing, He Prepared to Die

Conformably To His Own Precepts And Professions.

 

 

 

During this Lingering decay, He Sent, As Pope Relates[190], A Message By

The Earl Of Warwick To Mr. Gay, Desiring to See Him. Gay, Who Had Not

Visited him For Some Time Before, Obeyed the Summons, And Found Himself

Received with Great Kindness. The Purpose For Which The Interview Had

Been Solicited was Then Discovered. Addison Told Him, That He Had Injured

Him; But That, If He Recovered, He Would Recompense Him. What The Injury

Was, He Did Not Explain, Nor Did Gay Ever Know, But Supposed that

Some Preferment Designed for Him Had, By Addison'S Intervention, Been

Withheld.

 

 

 

Lord Warwick Was A Young Man Of Very Irregular Life, And, Perhaps, Of

Loose Opinions[191]. Addison, For Whom He Did Not Want Respect, Had

Very Diligently Endeavoured to Reclaim Him; But His Arguments And

Expostulations Had No Effect. One Experiment, However, Remained to Be

Tried: When He Found His Life Near Its End, He Directed the Young Lord To

Be Called; And When He Desired, With Great Tenderness, To Hear His Last

Injunctions, Told Him: "I Have Sent For You, That You May See How A

Christian Can Die." What Effect This Awful Scene Had On The Earl, I Know

Not: He, Likewise, Died himself In a Short Time, In tickell'S Excellent

Elegy On His Friend Are These Lines:

 

 

 

  He Taught Us How To Live; And, Oh! Too High

  The Price Of Knowledge, Taught Us How To Die.

 

 

 

In Which He Alludes, As He Told Dr. Young, To This Moving interview.

 

 

 

Having given Directions To Mr. Tickell For The Publication Of His Works,

And Dedicated them On His Deathbed to His Friend Mr. Craggs, He Died june

17, 1719, At Holland-House, Leaving no Child But A Daughter[192].

 

 

 

Of His Virtue It Is A Sufficient Testimony, That The Resentment Of Party

Has Transmitted no Charge Of Any Crime. He Was Not One Of Those Who Are

Praised only After Death; For His Merit Was So Generally Acknowledged,

That Swift, Having observed that His Election Passed without A Contest,

Adds, That, If He Had Proposed himself For King, He Would Hardly Have

Been Refused.

 

 

 

His Zeal For His Party Did Not Extinguish His Kindness For The Merit Of

His Opponents: When He Was Secretary In ireland, He Refused to Intermit

His Acquaintance With Swift.

 

 

 

Of His Habits, Or External Manners, Nothing is So Often Mentioned as That

Timorous Or Sullen Taciturnity, Which His Friends Called modesty, By Too

Mild A Name. Steele Mentions, With Great Tenderness, "That Remarkable

Bashfulness, Which Is A Cloak That Hides And Muffles Merit;" And Tells

Us, "That His Abilities Were Covered only By Modesty, Which Doubles The

Beauties Which Are Seen, And Gives Credit And Esteem To All That Are

Concealed." Chesterfield Affirms, That "Addison Was The Most Timorous

And Awkward Man That He Ever Saw." And Addison, Speaking of His Own

Deficiency In conversation, Used to Say Of Himself, That, With Respect To

Intellectual Wealth, "He Could Draw Bills For A Thousand Pounds, Though

He Had Not A Guinea In his Pocket."

 

 

 

That He Wanted current Coin For Ready Payment, And, By That Want, Was

Often Obstructed and Distressed; That He Was Oppressed by An Improper And

Ungraceful Timidity; Every Testimony Concurs To Prove; But Chesterfield'S

Representation Is, Doubtless, Hyperbolical. That Man Cannot Be Supposed

Very Unexpert In the Arts Of Conversation And Practice Of Life, Who,

Without Fortune Or Alliance, By His Usefulness And Dexterity, Became

Secretary Of State; And Who Died at Forty-Seven, After Having not Only

Stood Long In the Highest Rank Of Wit And Literature, But Filled one Of

The Most Important Offices Of State.

 

 

 

The Time In which He Lived had Reason To Lament His Obstinacy Of Silence;

"Or He Was," Says Steele, "Above All Men In that Talent Called humour,

And Enjoyed it In such Perfection, That I Have Often Reflected, After

A Night Spent With Him Apart From All 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." This Is The

Fondness Of A Friend; Let Us Hear What Is Told Us By A Rival: "Addison'S

Conversation[193]," Says Pope, "Had Something in it More Charming than

I Have Found In any Other Man. But This Was Only When Familiar; Before

Strangers, Or, Perhaps, A Single Stranger, He Preserved his Dignity By A

Stiff Silence."

 

 

 

This Modesty Was By No Means Inconsistent With A Very High Opinion Of

His Own Merit. He Demanded to Be The First Name In modern Wit; And, With

Steele To Echo Him, Used to Depreciate Dryden, Whom Pope And Congreve

Defended against Them[194]. There Is No Reason To Doubt, That He Suffered

Too Much Pain From The Prevalence Of Pope'S Poetical Reputation; Nor Is

It Without Strong Reason Suspected, That By Some Disingenuous Acts He

Endeavoured to Obstruct It; Pope Was Not The Only Man Whom He Insidiously

Injured, Though The Only Man Of Whom He Could Be Afraid.

 

 

 

His Own Powers Were Such As Might Have Satisfied him With Conscious

Excellence. Of Very Extensive Learning he Has, Indeed, Given No Proofs.

He Seems To Have Had Small Acquaintance With The Sciences, And To Have

Read Little Except Latin And French; But, Of The Latin Poets, His

Dialogues On Medals Show That, He Had Perused the Works With Great

Diligence And Skill. The Abundance Of His Own Mind Left Him Little

Need of Adventitious Sentiments; His Wit Always Could Suggest What The

Occasion Demanded. He Had Read, With Critical Eyes, The Important Volume

Of Human Life, And Knew The Heart Of Man From The Depths Of Stratagem To

The Surface Of Affectation.

 

 

 

What He Knew He Could Easily Communicate. "This," Says Steele, "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 A 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."

 

 

 

Pope[195], Who Can Be Less Suspected of Favouring his Memory, Declares

That He Wrote Very Fluently, But Was Slow And Scrupulous In correcting;

That Many Of His Spectators Were Written Very Fast, And Sent Immediately

To The Press; And That It Seemed to Be For His Advantage Not To Have Time

For Much Revisal.

 

 

 

"He Would Alter," Says Pope, "Any Thing to Please His Friends, Before

Publication; But Would Not Retouch His Pieces Afterwards: And, I Believe,

Not One Word In cato, To Which I Made An Objection, Was Suffered to

Stand."

 

 

 

The Last Line Of Cato Is Pope'S, Having been Originally Written,

 

 

 

  And, Oh! 'Twas This That Ended cato'S Life.

 

 

 

Pope Might Have Made More Objections To The Six Concluding lines. In the

First Couplet The Words, "From Hence," Are Improper; And The Second Line

Is Taken From Dryden'S Virgil. Of The Next Couplet, The First Verse Being

Included in the Second, Is, Therefore, Useless; And In the Third, Discord

Is Made To Produce Strife.

 

 

 

Of The Course Of Addison'S Familiar Day[196], Before His Marriage, Pope

Has Given A Detail. He Had In the House With Him Budgell, And, Perhaps,

Philips. His Chief Companions Were Steele, Budgell, Philips, Carey,

Davenant, And Colonel Brett. With One Or Other Of These He Always

Breakfasted. He Studied all Morning; Then Dined at A Tavern; And Went

Afterwards To Button'S.

 

 

 

Button Had Been A Servant In the Countess Of Warwick'S Family; Who, Under

The Patronage Of Addison, Kept A Coffee-House On The South Side Of Russel

Street, About Two Doors From Covent Garden. Here It Was That The Wits Of

That Time Used to Assemble. It Is Said, That When Addison Had Suffered

Any Vexation From The Countess, He Withdrew The Company From Button'S

House.

 

 

 

From The Coffee-House He Went Again To A Tavern, Where He Often Sat Late,

And Drank Too Much Wine. In the Bottle, Discontent Seeks For Comfort,

Cowardice For Courage, And Bashfulness Tot Confidence. It Is Not Unlikely

That Addison Was First Seduced to Excess By The Manumission Which He

Obtained from The Servile Timidity Of His Sober Hours. He That Feels

Oppression From The Presence Of Those To Whom He Knows Himself Superiour,

Will Desire To Set Loose His Powers Of Conversation; And Who, That Ever

Asked succours From Bacchus, Was Able To Preserve Himself From Being

Enslaved by His Auxiliary?

 

 

 

Among Those Friends It Was That Addison Displayed the Elegance Of His

Colloquial Accomplishments, Which May Easily Be Supposed such As Pope

Represents Them. The Remark Of Mandeville, Who, When He Had Passed an

Evening in his Company, Declared that He Was A Parson In a Tie-Wig, Can

Detract Little From His Character; He Was Always Reserved to Strangers,

And Was Not Incited to Uncommon Freedom By A Character Like That Of

Mandeville.

 

 

 

From Any Minute Knowledge Of His Familiar Manners, The Intervention Of

Sixty Years Has Now Debarred us. Steele Once Promised congreve And The

Publick A Complete Description Of His Character; But The Promises Of

Authors Are Like The Vows Of Lovers. Steele Thought No More On His

Design, Or Thought On It With Anxiety That At Last Disgusted him, And

Left His Friend In the Hands Of Tickell.

 

 

 

One Slight Lineament Of His Character Swift Has Preserved. It Was His

Practice, When He Found Any Man Invincibly Wrong, To Flatter His Opinions

By Acquiescence, And Sink Him Yet Deeper In absurdity. This Artifice

Of Mischief Was Admired by Stella; And Swift Seems To Approve Her

Admiration.

 

 

 

His Works Will Supply Some Information. It Appears, From His Various

Pictures Of The World, That, With All His Bashfulness, He Had Conversed

With Many Distinct Classes Of Men, Had Surveyed their Ways With Very

Diligent Observation, And Marked, With Great Acuteness, The Effects

Of Different Modes Of Life. He Was A Man In whose Presence Nothing

Reprehensible Was Out Of Danger; Quick In discerning whatever Was Wrong

Or Ridiculous, And Not Unwilling to Expose It. "There Are," Says Steele,

"In His Writings Many Oblique Strokes Upon Some Of The Wittiest Paen Of

The Age." His Delight Was More To Excite Merriment Than Detestation; And

He Detects Follies Rather Than Crimes.

 

 

 

If Any Judgment Be Made, From

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