“Addison left off at a good moment,” says Thackeray.  “That simile was pronounced to be the greatest ever produced in poetry.  That angel, that good angel, flew off with Mr. Addison, and landed him in the place of Commissioner of Appeals—­vice Mr. Locke, providentially promoted.  In the following year Mr. Addison went to Hanover with Lord Halifax, and the year after was made Under-Secretary of State.  O angel visits!  You come ‘few and far between’ to literary gentlemen’s lodgings!  Your wings seldom quiver at the second-floor windows now!”

The prize poem was followed by a narrative of travel in Italy, happily written, full of felicitous description, and touched by a humor which, in quality and manner, was new to English readers.  Then came one of those indiscretions of the imagination which showed that the dignified and somewhat sober young poet, the “parson in a tye-wig,” as he was called at a later day, was not lacking in gayety of mood.  The opera ‘Rosamond’ was not a popular success, mainly because the music to which it was set fell so far below it in grace and ease.  It must be added, however, that Addison lacked the qualities of a successful libretto writer.  He was too serious, and despite the lightness of his touch, there was a certain rigidity in him which made him unapt at versification which required quickness, agility, and variety.  When he attempted to give his verse gayety of manner, he did not get beyond awkward simulation of an ease which nature had denied him:—­

“Since conjugal passion
Is come into fashion,
And marriage so blest on the throne is,
Like a Venus I’ll shine,
Be fond and be fine,
And Sir Trusty shall be my Adonis.”

Meantime, in spite of occasional clouds, Addison’s fortunes were steadily advancing.  The Earl of Wharton was appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and Addison accepted the lucrative post of Secretary.  Spenser had found time and place, during a similar service in the same country, to complete the ‘Faery Queene’; although the fair land in which the loveliest of English poems has its action was not unvexed by the chronic turbulence of a mercurial and badly used race.  Irish residence was coincident in Addison’s case, not only with prosperous fortunes and with important friendships, but also with the beginning of the work on which his fame securely rests.  In Ireland the acquaintance he had already made in London with Swift ripened into a generous friendship, which for a time resisted political differences when such differences were the constant occasion of personal animosity and bitterness.  The two men represented the age in an uncommonly complete way.  Swift had the greater genius:  he was, indeed, in respect of natural endowment, the foremost man of his time; but his nature was undisciplined, his temper uncertain, and his great powers quite as much at the service of his passions as of his principles.  He made himself respected, feared, and finally hated; his lack of