tuck'd up sempstress walks with hasty strides,
While streams run down her oil'd umbrella's sides;
Here various kinds, by various fortunes led,
Commence acquaintance underneath a shed,
Triumphant Tories and desponding Whigs,
Forget their feuds, and join to save their wigs."

The contributions of Addison were more numerous. He is more precise and
old-fashioned than Steele, being particularly fond of giving a classical
and mythological air to his writings, and thus we have such subjects as
"The Goddess of Justice distributing rewards," and "Juno's method of
retaining the affections of Jupiter." Allegories were his delight, and
he tells us how artistically the probable can be intermingled with the
marvellous. Such conceits were then still in fashion, and the numbers
of the "Tatler" which contained them had the largest sale. They remind
us of the "Old Moralities," and at this time succeeded to the prodigies,
whales, plagues, and famines to which the news-writers had recourse when
the exciting events of the Civil War came to an end. In general, the
subjects chosen by Addison were more important than those chosen by
Steele, and no doubt the earnest bent of his mind would have led him to
write lofty and learned essays on morals and literature quite unsuitable
to a popular periodical. But being kept down in a humbler sphere by the
exigency of the case, he produced what was far more telling, and,
perhaps, more practically useful. In one place he uses his humorous
talent to protest, in the cause of good feeling, against the indignities
put upon chaplains--a subject on which Swift could have spoken with more
personal experience, but not with such good taste and light pleasantry.
The article begins with a letter from a chaplain, complaining that he
was not allowed to sit at table to the end of dinner, and was rebuked by
the lady of the house for helping himself to a jelly. Addison remarks:--

"The case of this gentleman deserves pity, especially if he loves
sweetmeats, to which, if I may guess from his letter, he is no
enemy. In the meantime, I have often wondered at the indecency of
discharging the holiest men from the table as soon as the most
delicious parts of the entertainments are served up, and could
never conceive a reason for so absurd a custom. Is it because a
liquorish palate, or a sweet-tooth, as they call it, is not
consistent with the sanctity of his character? This i