so miserable as this: he goes on in a pursuit he himself disapproves, and has no enjoyment but what is followed by remorse; no relief from remorse, but the repetition of his crime. It is possible I may talk of this person with too much indulgence; but I must repeat it, that I think this a character which is the most the object of pity of any in the world. The man in the pangs of the stone, gout, or any acute distemper, is not in so deplorable a condition, in the eye of right sense, as he that errs and repents, and repents and errs on. The fellow with broken limbs justly deserves your alms, for his impotent condition; but he that cannot use his own reason, is in a much worse state; for you see him in miserable circumstances, with his remedy at the same time in his own possession, if he would, or could use it."* With such laudable severity did Steele pass sentence on his own conduct, and by so doing retrieved in a great measure the evils of his example; for these were confined to a narrow circle, while their reprobation circulated through the kingdom. The same year which gave publicity to his Christian Hero, produced likewise his first suc • No. 27. cessful Comedy. His motive for bringing it on the stage is somewhat curious; it was, he says, for the purpose of enlivening his character, and repelling the sarcasms of those who abused him for his declarations relative to religion. It is entitled The Funeral, or Grief-à-la-mode, and lashes with much wit and humour the extravagant professions of the Undertakers, and the chicanery and technical phraseology of the Lawyers. With regard to the undertakers, he observes in his Preface to the Play, "it is not in the power of any pen to paint them better than they do themselves; as for example, on a door I just now passed by, a great artist thus informs us of his cures upon the dead: "W. W. known and approved for his art of embalming, having preserved the corpse of a gen tlewoman sweet and entire thirteen years, without embowelling, and has reduced the bodies of several persons of quality to sweetness, in Flanders and Ireland, after nine months putrefaction in the ground, and they were known by their friends in England. No man performeth the like." "He must," proceeds our author," be strangely in love with this life, who is not touched with this kind invitation to be pickled; and the noble operator must be allowed a very useful person for bringing old friends together. Nor would it be unworthy his labour to give us an account at large, of the sweet conversation that arose upon meeting such an entire friend as he mentions." The variety of incident in this comedy, though defective in point of unity, rendered it a favourite when first brought forward, and it is even still occasionally acted. Had the Monarch then on the throne, and who had been much entertained by its representation, survived but a few years longer, the author had probably been indebted to this play for many essential benefits; as his name to be provided for, he has told us, was in the last table-book ever worn by the glorious and immortal King William.* As the dramatic writings of Steele form a considerable feature in his literary character, I shall, for the sake of perspicuity and precision, notice them together, and without the interruption of intervening events. His fertile genius soon completed another comic piece for the stage; and in 1703, the Tender Husband, or the Accomplished Fools, was presented to the public. In this play, the morality of which is pure, the humour genuine, and the delineation of character, both in outline and colouring, superior to the Funeral, he was assisted by • Apology for himself and his writings, printed in 1715. Addison, who likewise contributed the Prologue. It was not until after the death of his friend, that Steele acknowledged the assistance he had received; and he then did it in the following affectionate terms: "I remember," says he, 68 when I finished the Tender Husband, I told him (Addison) there was nothing I so ardently wished, as that we might sometime or other publish a work written by us both, which should bear the name of The Monument, in memory of our friendship. When the play above-mentioned was last acted, there were so many applauded strokes in it which I had from the same hand, that I thought very meanly of myself that I had never publickly acknowledged them."* It is not possible in this place to resist the consolatory pleasure of dwelling for a few moments on the friendship which subsisted between these memorable men. Though of very different characters and tempers, one being calm and philosophic, the other irritable and impatient of control; one grave, the other gay and volatile to excess; yet did they both possess the same goodness of heart, an equal degree of active charity and compassion, and the same rectitude of principle and intention. Unfortunately for Steele, he * Preface to the Drummer, second edition. wanted the firm resolution and self-command which Addison had happily acquired, and he was likewise conscious of inferiority in intellectual ability; yet not the smallest atom of envy or of jealousy ever rankled in the bosom of this amia→ ble man; on the contrary, he contemplated his friend with the most disinterested affection, and with a respect almost bordering upon adoration. In various parts of his writings, with a sincerity and frankness which excite alike the reader's pity and regard, he confesses his frailties, and contrasts himself with his more regular and ac complished companion. "We had never any difference," he observes, "but what arose from our different way of pursuing the same thing: the one, with patience, foresight, and temperate address, always waited and stemmed the torrent; while the other often plunged himself into it, and was as often taken out by the temper of him who stood weeping on the bank for his safety, whom he could not dissuade from leaping into it." His amor unus erat- Nulla dies unquam memori vos eximet ævo. The justly merited attack of Collier on the immorality and profaneness of the stage, which Theatre No. 12. |