THE BIRTH OF "THE SPECTATOR."

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1162, 24 June 1911, Page 9

THE BIRTH OF "THE SPECTATOR."

On January 2, with its 274 th number, the "Taller" came to a cairn but glorious end. A few weeks afterwards, on March 1, two hundred years ago, introduced by Addison, now at leisure after the fall of the Whigs, the Silent Man, the Looker-on, the quiet, attentive frequenter of all the humming Coffee-houses, tho Stander-by who halt never espoused any party with violence, who wos resolved io observe an exact neutrality, and was "very well versNl.inJhe Xncory of an Husband, or a Father"—Mr. .Spectator -himself, in fact, made Ins how to the world from Little Britain; nnd his ghost, canonised and beloved, has never since left the «(age.Perhaps the most remarkable feature of the old "Spectator" to a reader of the pi-fcii's.l (i.iy ii its admirable continuity. Number alter number may, bo read at a sitting, on subjects ranging from Babylon to Bouts Rimes, from Platonic Love to Rope-dancing, from "Tom, the Tyrant at the Coffee llorise" to tho Mohocs in Fleet Street and the Tombs in Westminster Abbey; and the same rippling philosophy bears them all on, with the same equable c«.sc. Shrewd good humour is the keynote, their score the heart of man, "from the Depths of Stratagem to the Surface of Affectation." "Is it not much better to be let : into the Knowledge of one's Self than to hear what passes in Muscovy or Poland?" This, the least wearying branch of all human knowledge, they treat, of without pomposity or flippancy, and, above all, without "Ihe least impropriety of language " They are rarely hurried or professional, they scold without i.te.t, preach without nr.;-.t!iematising, satirize without bitterness, and so much of tt length they are, so dexterously they oscillate between grave and Ray, that one might, also talk of a Spretatorial metre. Brilliance is const it ufioinlly intermittent, nnd many a newspaper has flared its unretiiniiiig wav info extinction. But both Addison and Steele had talent in abundance to ballast their geni'.is.

In judging Steele's contributions to the "Spectator," the foe! that on him lay the burden of Retting his daily sheet out with promptitude and dispatch must not be forgotten. Each was a web spun from within. The news of the day was only a twig to fix it to. A few genuine. letters from enthusiastic correspondents might bo knit into a number. On one occasion a Mr. Barr, a dissenting minister, supplied a version of the "Song of Solomon" in rhymed couplets.,. But when supplies ran low Steele had often to write in haste, while Addison could pause and ponder and polish at leisure. It' to this accident is

duo something of tho formlessness' and dcsultoriness, as well as tho spontaneity, dash, and gusto of Steele's work,- it-is also an additional Ipstimwiy to Addison's exquisite literary gift. For though Addison in his show pieces could, and undoubtedly did, tako his time, we know from Steele himself that he could dictate his contributions "with as much ease and freedom as anybody could write them down." Addison's was the very _rarc grace of facility without thinness. Stylo is born, not maile. A man may labour to clarify aud disc'ncitmbcr; he cannot create his style. It is a personal emanation. And if Steele's is tho v.\irm bodily presence in the "Spectator," the spirituclle is_ Addison's. Both are indispensable. We may talk of tho "Spectator" and bless Steele; but when it comes to reading it, wo read for tho most part Addison. Without him —its daintiest, its airiest, keenest, wittiest, its most searching, most blindly satirical—its bouquet is gone. Steele is companionable, face to face with us, heartv and downright. Addison is the artist—subtle, economical, aloof. Steele's easv, inventive mind frequently sowed the seed, Addison brought the bloom to perfection. '. .

The jolly, careless "sketch in chalk" in No. 2 of Sir Riger, for instance, will not bear too close a"scrutiny. Ic is not mure of ono piece; Sir Roger is as yet only a stalking horse. Addison, in No. 108, receives an invitation "lo pass away a nwiith with him in the country," aud at once the Squire steps out of the page to greet us, with a presence aud individuality as living'and real as any in English fiction. In a dozen lines he is tin old friend, in a page he is immortal. Not even Steele, who had conceived the Knight, could refuse Addison the privilege of killing him off at last "to save him from being murdered." Tho wonder is that cither could have tolerated any kind of meddling with him. That limpid water-colour, Will Wimble, again, .Is Addison's ; his is the quintessence of the old beau, Honeycomb. The rest of the club, Sir Andrew Freeport, Capt. Sentry, the Batchelour of the Inner Temple, are only phantoms of the half-created.—London Times."