d file? One of the greatest of a great man's
qualities is success; 'tis the result of all the others; 'tis a latent
power in him which compels the favor of the gods, and subjugates
fortune. Of all his gifts I admire that one in the great Marlborough. To
be brave? every man is brave. But in being victorious, as he is, I fancy
there is something divine. In presence of the occasion, the great
soul of the leader shines out, and the god is confessed. Death itself
respects him, and passes by him to lay others low. War and carnage flee
before him to ravage other parts of the field, as Hector from before the
divine Achilles. You say he hath no pity; no more have the gods, who are
above it, and superhuman. The fainting battle gathers strength at his
aspect; and, wherever he rides, victory charges with him."

A couple of days after, when Mr. Esmond revisited his poetic friend, he
found this thought, struck out in the fervor of conversation, improved
and shaped into those famous lines, which are in truth the noblest in
the poem of the "Campaign." As the two gentlemen sat engaged in talk,
Mr. Addison solacing himself with his customary pipe, the little
maid-servant that waited on his lodging came up, preceding a gentleman
in fine laced clothes, that had evidently been figuring at Court or a
great man's levee. The courtier coughed a little at the smoke of the
pipe, and looked round the room curiously, which was shabby enough, as
was the owner in his worn, snuff-colored suit and plain tie-wig.

"How goes on the magnum opus, Mr. Addison?" says the Court gentleman on
looking down at the papers that were on the table.

"We were but now over it," says Addison (the greatest courtier in the
land could not have a more splendid politeness, or greater dignity of
manner). "Here is the plan," says he, "on the table: hac ibat Simois,
here ran the little river Nebel: hic est Sigeia tellus, here are
Tallard's quarters, at the bowl of this pipe, at the attack of which
Captain Esmond was present. I have the honor to introduce him to Mr.
Boyle; and Mr. Esmond was but now depicting aliquo proelia mixta mero,
when you came in." In truth, the two gentlemen had been so engaged when
the visitor arrived, and Addison, in his smiling way, speaking of Mr.
Webb, colonel of Esmond's regiment (who commanded a brigade in the
action, and greatly distinguished himself there), was lamenting that he
could find never a suitable rhyme for Webb, otherwise the brigade s