ir veneration for him appears to have exceeded that with
which Johnson was regarded by Boswell, or Warburton by Hurd. It was not
in the power of adulation to turn such a head, or deprave such a heart,
as Addison's. But it must in candor be admitted that he contracted some
of the faults which can scarcely be avoided by any person who is so
unfortunate as to be the oracle of a small literary coterie.

One member of this little society was Eustace Budgell, a young Templar
of some literature, and a distant relation of Addison. There was at this
time no stain on the character of Budgell, and it is not improbable that
his career would have been prosperous and honorable, if the life of his
cousin had been prolonged. But, when the master was laid in the grave,
the disciple broke loose from all restraint, descended rapidly from one
degree of vice and misery to another, ruined his fortune by follies,
attempted to repair it by crimes, and at length closed a wicked and
unhappy life by self-murder. Yet, to the last, the wretched man,
gambler, lampooner, cheat, forger, as he was, retained his affection and
veneration for Addison, and recorded those feelings in the last lines
which he traced before he hid himself from infamy under London Bridge.

Another of Addison's favorite companions was Ambrose Philips, a good
Whig and a middling poet, who had the honor of bringing into fashion a
species of composition which has been called, after his name, Namby
Pamby. But the most remarkable members of the little senate, as Pope
long afterwards called it, were Richard Steele and Thomas Tickell.

Steele had known Addison from childhood. They had been together at the
Charter House and at Oxford; but circumstances had then, for a time,
separated them widely. Steele had left college without taking a degree,
had been disinherited by a rich relation, had led a vagrant life, had
served in the army, had tried to find the philosopher's stone, and had
written a religious treatise and several comedies. He was one of those
people whom it is impossible either to hate or to respect. His temper
was sweet, his affections warm, his spirits lively, his passions strong,
and his principles weak. His life was spent in sinning and repenting; in
inculcating what was right, and doing what was wrong. In speculation, he
was a man of piety and honor; in practice, he was much of the rake and a
little of the swindler. He was, however, so good-natured that it was not
easy t