his age somewhat affected and chilled his genius, yet he knew of other
models than Racine and Boileau. He drank of "Siloa's brook." He admired
and imitated the poetry of the Bible. He loves not, indeed, its wilder
and higher strains; he gets giddy on the top of Lebanon; the Valley of
Dry Bones he treads with timid steps; and his look up to the "Terrible
Crystal" is more of fright than of exultation. But the lovelier, softer,
simpler, and more pensive parts of the Bible are very dear to the gentle
_Spectator_, and are finely, if faintly, reproduced in his writings.
Indeed, the principle which would derogate from Addison's works, would
lead to the depreciation of portions of the Scriptures too. "Ruth" is not
so grand as the "Revelation;" the "Song of Solomon" is not so sublime as
the "Song of Songs, which is Isaiah's;" and the story of Joseph has not
the mystic grandeur or rushing fire of Ezekiel's prophecy. But there they
are in the same Book of God, and are even dearer to many hearts than the
loftier portions; and so with Addison's papers beside the works of Bacon,
Milton, and Coleridge.

His poetry is now in our readers' hands, and should be read with a candid
spirit. They will admire the elegance and gracefully-used learning of the
"Epistle to Halifax." They will not be astonished at the "Campaign," but
they will regard it with interest as the lever which first lifted Addison
into his true place in society and letters. They will find much to please
them in his verses to Dryden, Somers, King William, and his odes on St
Cecilia's Day; and they will pause with peculiar fondness over those
delightful hymns, some of which they have sung or repeated from infancy,
which they will find again able to "beat the heavenward flame," and start
the tender and pious tear, and which are of themselves sufficient to rank
Addison high on the list of Christian poets.