where Addison
was found over a haberdasher's, up three flights, back. The account comes
from Pope, who was the enemy of both Addison and Halifax, and can
therefore be relied upon.

The Chancellor of the Exchequer broached the subject, was gently repulsed,
the case was argued, and being put on the plane of duty the poet
surrendered, and as a result we have Addison's poem, "The Campaign." It
was considered a great literary feat in its day, but like all things
performed to order, comes tardy off. Only work done in love lives. But
Addison slid into the Excise office, taking it as legal tender. This
brought him into relationship with Godolphin, who one day exclaimed, "I
thought that man Addison was nothing but a poet--I'm a rogue if he isn't
really a great man!" Lord Godolphin was needing a good man, a man of
address, polish, tact and education. And Addison was selected to fill the
office of Under-Secretary of State, the place for which he had fitted
himself and to which he had aspired eight years before. Moral: Be
prepared.

The party that called Addison was not the one to which he was supposed to
be attached, but his merits were recognized, his help was needed, and so
he was sent for. It was a great compliment. But good men are always
needed--they were then, and the demand is greater now than ever before.
The highest positions are hard to fill--good men are scarce.

Addison's knowledge, his modesty, his willingness, his caution, his grace
of manner, fitted him exactly for the position; and we have reason to
believe that the salary of one thousand pounds a year was very acceptable
to one in his situation.

In another year the Whigs had grown stronger; Halifax was again a
recognized power; and erelong we find Addison entering Parliament. So
great was his popularity that he was elected from one district six times,
representing Malmesbury until his death.

It was stated by Congreve that Addison's habit of shyness was an
affectation. If so, it was a good stroke, for nothing is so becoming in a
man known to be versatile and strong as a half-embarrassment when in
society. The Duke of Wellington's awkwardness in a drawing-room put all
others at their ease. The eternal fitness of things demands that when
greatness is in evidence some one should be embarrassed, and if the
celebrity is "it," so much the better.

Personally, I feel sure that Addison's shyness was not feigned, for on the
only occasion he ever attempted to speak