others to add a little of their own, and overlook their masters.
Addison is now despised by some who perhaps would never have seen
his defects but by the lights which he afforded them. That he
always wrote as he would think it necessary to write now, cannot be
affirmed; his instructions were such as the characters of his
readers made proper. That general knowledge which now circulates in
common talk was in his time rarely to be found. Men not professing
learning were not ashamed of ignorance; and, in the female world,
any acquaintance with books was distinguished only to be censured.
His purpose was to infuse literary curiosity, by gentle and
unsuspected conveyance, into the gay, the idle, and the wealthy; he
therefore presented knowledge in the most alluring form, not lofty
and austere, but accessible and familiar. When he showed them their
defects, he showed them likewise that they might be easily supplied.
His attempt succeeded; inquiry was awakened, and comprehension
expanded. An emulation of intellectual elegance was excited, and
from this time to our own life has been gradually exalted, and
conversation purified and enlarged.

Dryden had, not many years before, scattered criticism over his
prefaces with very little parsimony; but though he sometimes
condescended to be somewhat familiar, his manner was in general too
scholastic for those who had yet their rudiments to learn, and found
it not easy to understand their master. His observations were
framed rather for those that were learning to write than for those
that read only to talk.

An instructor like Addison was now wanting, whose remarks, being
superficial, might be easily understood, and being just, might
prepare the mind for more attainments. Had he presented "Paradise