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 some suspicion as to the need of condescension in their minds. The question to be asked is whether Addison, attached as he was to certain standards of gentility, morality, and taste, has not become one of those people of exemplary character and charming urbanity who must never be talked to about anything more exciting than the weather. We have some slight suspicion that the Spectator and the Tatler are nothing but talk, couched in perfect English, about the number of fine days this year compared with the number of wet the year before. The difficulty of getting on to equal terms with him is shown by the little fable which he introduces into one of the early numbers of the Tatler, of “a young gentleman, of moderate understanding, but great vivacity, who had got a little smattering of knowledge, just enough to make an atheist or a free-thinker, but not a philosopher, or a man of sense”. This young gentleman visits his father in the country, and proceeds “to enlarge the narrowness of the country notions; in which he succeeded so well, that he had seduced the butler by his table-talk, and staggered his eldest sister ’Till one day, talking of his setting dog said ‘he did not question but Tray was as immortal as any one of the family’; and in the heat of the argument told his father, that for his own part, ‘he expected to die like a dog’. Upon which, the old man, starting up in a very great passion, cried out, ‘Then, sirrah, you shall live like one’; and taking his cane in his hand, cudgelled him out of his system. This had so good an effect upon him, that he took up from