of how
Shakespeare meant such and such a character to be interpreted. It stands
to reason that the character in fiction can to this same extent be more
artificial. It is a test of the self-control and artistic restraint of
the novelist if he can refrain from diving too deep into the unknown and
arrogating to himself an impossibly full knowledge of the mental
processes of other people. And now notice how Addison gives us just such
revelations of the old Knight's character as the observant spectator
would gather from friendly intercourse with him. We see Sir Roger at
home, ruling his household and the village with a genial if somewhat
autocratic sway: we see him in London, taking the cicerone who pilots him
round Westminster Abbey for a monument of wit and learning: and so on and
so forth. There is no need to catalogue these occasions: what we have
said should suffice to point out a very fruitful line of study which may
help the reader to a full appreciation of Addison's work. "Good wine
needs no bush," and the Coverley Essays are good wine if ever there was
such.

The study of the style is also of the greatest value. Addison lived at a
time when our modern English prose had recently found itself. We admire
the splendour of the Miltonic style, and lose ourselves in the rich
harmonies of Sir Thomas Browne's work; but after all prose is needed for
ordinary every-day jog-trot purposes and must be clear and
straightforward. It can still remain a very attractive instrument of
speech or writing, and in Addison's hands it fulfilled to perfection the
needs of the essay style. He avoids verbiage and excessive adornment, he
is content to tell what he sees or knows or thinks as simply as possible
(and even with a tendency towards the conversational), and he has an
inimitable feeling for just the right word, just the most elegantly
turned phrase and period. Do not imagine this sort of thing is the result
of a mere gift for style: true, it could not happen without that, but
neither can it happen without a great deal of careful thought, a
scrupulous choice, and balancing of word against word, phrase against
phrase. Because all this is done and because the result is so clear and
runs so smoothly, it requires an effort on our part to realise the great
amount of work involved: _Ars est celare artem_: and in such an essay as
that describing the picture gallery in Sir Roger's house we can see the
pictures in front of our eyes precisely bec