The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland Volume II Part 22

meer court promises. Mr. Butler in short, affords a remarkable instance of that coldness and neglect, which great genius's often experience from the court and age in which they live; we are told indeed by a gentleman, whose father was intimate with Butler, Charles Longueville, Esq; that Charles II. once gave him a gratuity of three hundred pounds, which had this compliment attending it, that it pa.s.sed all the offices without any fee, lord Danby being at that time high treasurer, which seems to be the only court favour he ever received; a strange instance of neglect! when we consider King Charles was so excessive fond of this poem of Hudibras; that he carried it always in his pocket, he quoted it almost on every occasion, and never mentioned it, but with raptures.

This is movingly represented in a poem of our author's, published in his remains called Hudibras at Court. He takes occasion to justify his poem, by hinting its excellences in general, and paying a few modest compliments to himself, of which we shall transcribe the following lines.

Now you must know, sir Hudibras, With such perfections gifted was, And so peculiar in his manner, That all that saw him did him honour; Amongst the rest, this prince was one, Admired his conversation: This prince, whose ready wit, and parts Conquer'd both men and women's hearts; Was so o'ercome with knight and Ralph, That he could never claw it off.

He never eat, nor drank, nor slept, But Hudibras still near him kept; Nor would he go to church or so, But Hudibras must with him go; Nor yet to visit concubine, Or at a city feast to dine, But Hudibras must still be there, Or all the fat was in the fire.

Now after all was it not hard, That he should meet with no reward, That fitted out the knight and squire, This monarch did so much admire?

That he should never reimburse The man for th' equipage and horse, Is sure a strange ungrateful thing In any body, but a King.

But, this good King, it seems was told By some, that were with him too bold, If e'er you hope to gain your ends, Caress your foes, and trust your friends.

Such were the doctrines that were taught, 'Till this unthinking King was brought To leave his friends to starve and die; A poor reward for loyalty.

After having lived to a good old age, admired by all, though personally known but to few, he died September 25, 1680, and was buried at the expence of his good friend Mr. Longueville of the Temple, in the church-yard of St. Paul's Covent-Garden. Mr.

Longueville had a strong inclination to have him buried in Westminster Abbey, and spoke with that view to several persons who had been his admirers, offering to pay his part, but none of them would contribute; upon which he was interred privately, Mr. Longueville, and seven or eight more, following him to the grave. Mr. Alderman Barber erected a monument to Butler in Westminster-Abbey.

The poem ent.i.tled Hudibras, by which he acquired so high a reputation, was published at three different times; the first part came out in 1668 in 8vo. afterwards came out the second part, and both were printed together, with several additions, and annotations; at last, the third and last part was published, but without any annotations, as appears by the printed copy 1678. The great success and peculiarity of manner of this poem has produced many unsuccessful imitations of it, and some vain attempts have been made to translate some parts of it into Latin. Monsieur Voltaire gives it a very good character, and justly observes, that though there are as many thoughts as words in it, yet it cannot be successfully translated, on account of every line's having some allusion to English affairs, which no foreigner can be supposed to understand, or enter into. The Oxford antiquary ascribes to our author two pamphlets, supposed falsely, he says, to be William Prynne's; the one ent.i.tled Mola Asinaria, or the Unreasonable and Insupportable Burthen pressed upon the Shoulders of this Groaning Nation, London 1659, in one sheet 4to. the other, Two Letters: One from John Audland, a Quaker, to William Prynne; the other, Prynne's Answer, in three sheets fol. 1672. The life writer mentions a small poem in one sheet in 4to. on Du Val, a notorious highwayman, said to be written by Butler. These pieces, with a great many others, are published together, under the t.i.tle of his Posthumous Works. The life writer abovementioned has preserved a fragment of Mr. Butler's, given by one whom he calls the ingenious Mr. Aubrey, who a.s.sured him he had it from the poet himself; it is indeed admirable, and the satire sufficiently pungent against the priests.

No jesuit e'er took in hand To plant a church in barren land; Nor ever thought it worth the while A Swede or Russ to reconcile.

For where there is no store of wealth, Souls are not worth the charge of health.

Spain in America had two designs: To sell their gospel for their mines: For had the Mexicans been poor, No Spaniard twice had landed on their sh.o.r.e.

'Twas gold the Catholic religion planted, Which, had they wanted gold, they still had wanted.

Mr. Dryden[3] and Mr. Addison[4] have joined in giving testimony against our author, as to the choice of his verse, which they condemn as boyish and being apt to degenerate into the doggrel; but while they censure his verse, they applaud his matter, and Dryden observes, that had he chose any other verse, he would even then have excelled; as we say of a court favourite, that whatever his office be, he still makes it uppermost, and most beneficial to him.

We cannot close the life of this great man, without a reflection on the degeneracy of those times, which suffered him to languish in obscurity; and though he had done more against the Puritan interest, by exposing it to ridicule, than thousands who were rioting at court with no pretensions to favour, yet he was never taken notice of, nor had any calamity redressed, which leaves a stain on those who then ruled, that never can be obliterated. A minister of state seldom fails to reward a court tool, and a man of pleasure pays his instruments for their infamy, and what character must that ministration bear, who allow wit, loyalty and virtue to pa.s.s neglected, and, as Cowley pathetically expresses it,

'In that year when manna rained on all, why should the muses fleece be only dry.'

The following epigram is not unworthy [of] a place here.

Whilst Butler, needy wretch, was yet alive, No gen'rous patron would a dinner give; But lo behold! when dead, the mould'ring dust, Rewarded with a monumental bust!

A poet's fate, in emblem here is shewn, He ask'd for bread, and he received--a stone.

Footnotes: 1. Life of Butler, p 6.

2. Posthumous Works of Wycherly, published by Mr. Theobald.

3. Juv. Ded.

4. Spect. No. 6. Vol. i.

EDMUND WALLER Esq;

Was descended of a family of his name in Buckinghams.h.i.+re, a younger branch of the Wallers of Kent. He was born March 3, 1605 at Coles.h.i.+ll, which gives Warwicks.h.i.+re the honour of his birth. His father dying when he was very young, the care of his education fell to his mother, who sent him to Eton School, according to the author of his life, but Mr. Wood says, 'that he was mostly educated in grammaticals under one Dobson, minister of Great Wycombe in Bucks, who had been educated in Eton school,' without mentioning that Mr. Waller had been at all at Eton school: after he had acquired grammar learning, he was removed to King's college in Cambridge, and it is manifest that he must have been extremely a.s.siduous in his studies, since he acquired so fine a taste of the ancients, in so short a time, for at sixteen or seventeen years of age, he was chosen into the last Parliament of King James I. and served as Burgess for Agmondesham.

In the year 1623, when Prince Charles nearly escaped being cast away in the road of St. Andre, coming from Spain, Mr. Waller wrote a Poem on that occasion, at an age when, generally speaking, persons of the acutest parts just begin to shew themselves, and at a time when the English poetry had scarce any grace in it. In the year 1628 he addressed a Poem to his Majesty, on his hearing the news of the duke of Buckingham's death, which, with the former, procured him general admiration: harmony of numbers being at that time so great a novelty, and Mr. Waller having, at once, so polished and refined versification, it is no wonder that he enjoyed the felicity of an universal applause.

These poems recommended him to court-favour, and rendered him dear to persons of the best taste and distinction that then flourished. A Writer of his life observes, as a proof of his being much caressed by people of the first reputation, that he was one of the famous club, of which the great lord Falkland, Sir Francis Wainman, Mr. Chillingworth, Mr. G.o.dolphin, and other eminent men were members. These were the immortals of that age, and to be a.s.sociated with them, is one of the highest encomiums which can possibly be bestowed, and exceeds the most laboured strain of a panegyrist.

A circ.u.mstance related of this club, is pretty remarkable: One evening, when they were convened, a great noise was heard in the street, which not a little alarmed them, and upon enquiring the cause, they were told, that a son of Ben Johnson's was arrested. This club was too generous to suffer the child of one, who was the genuine son of Apollo, to be carried to a Jail, perhaps for a trifle: they sent for him, but in place of being Ben Johnson's son, he proved to be Mr.

George Morley, afterwards bishop of Winchester. Mr. Waller liked him so well, that he paid the debt, which was no less than one hundred pounds, on condition that he would live with him at Beconsfield, which he did eight or ten years together, and from him Mr. Waller used to say, that he learned a taste of the ancient poets, and got what he had of their manner. But it is evident from his poems, written before this incident of Mr. Morley's arrest, that he had early acquired that exquisite Spirit; however, he might have improved it afterwards, by the conversation and a.s.sistance of Mr. Morley, to whom this adventure proved very advantageous.

It is uncertain, at what time our author was married, but, it is supposed, that his first wife Anne, daughter and heir of Edward Banks, esq; was dead before he fell in love with lady Dorothy Sidney, daughter to the earl of Leicester, whom he celebrates under the name of Sacharissa. Mr. Waller's pa.s.sion for this lady, has been the subject of much conversation; his verses, addressed to her, have been renowned for their delicacy, and Sacharissa has been proposed, as a model to succeeding poets, in the celebration of their mistresses. One cannot help wis.h.i.+ng, that the poet had been as successful in his Addresses to her, as he has been in his love-strains, which are certainly the sweetest in the world. The difference of station, and the pride of blood, perhaps, was the occasion, that Sacharissa never became the wife of Waller; though in reality, as Mr. Waller was a gentleman, a member of parliament, and a person of high reputation, we cannot, at present, see so great a disproportion: and, as Mr. Waller had fortune, as well as wit and poetry, lord Leicester's daughter could not have been disgraced by such an alliance. At least we are sure of one thing, that she lives for ever in Waller's strains, a circ.u.mstance, which even her beauty could not have otherwise procured, nor the l.u.s.tre of the earl of Sunderland, whom she afterwards married: the countess of Sunderland, like the radiant circles of that age, long before this time would have slept in oblivion, but the Sacharissa of Waller is consigned to immortality, and can never die but with poetry, taste, and politeness.

Upon the marriage of that lady to lord Spenser, afterwards earl of Sunderland, which was solemnized July 11, 1639, Mr. Waller wrote the following letter to lady Lucy Sidney, her sister, which is so full of gallantry, and so elegantly turned, that it will doubtedly give pleasure to our readers to peruse it.

MADAM,

'In this common joy at Penshurst[1], I know, none to whom complaints may come less unseasonable than to your ladys.h.i.+p, the loss of a bedfellow, being almost equal to that of a mistress, and therefore you ought, at least, to pardon, if you consent not to the imprecations of the deserted, which just Heaven no doubt will hear. May my lady Dorothy, if we may yet call her so, suffer as much, and have the like pa.s.sion for this young lord, whom she has preferred to the rest of mankind, as others have had for her; and may his love, before the year go about, make her taste of the first curse imposed upon womankind, the pains of becoming a mother. May her first born be none of her own s.e.x, nor so like her, but that he may resemble her lord, as much as herself. May she, that always affected silence and retirement, have the house filled with the noise and number of her children, and hereafter of her grand-children; and then may she arrive at that great curse, so much declined by fair ladies, old age; may she live to be very old, and yet seem young; be told so by her gla.s.s, and have no aches to inform her of the truth; and when she shall appear to be mortal, may her lord not mourn for her, but go hand in hand with her to that place, where we are told there is neither marrying, nor giving in marriage, that being there divorced, we may all have an equal interest in her again! my revenge being immortal, I wish all this may befall her posterity to the world's end, and afterwards! To you, madam, I wish all good things, and that this loss may, in good time, be happily supplied, with a more constant bedfellow of the other s.e.x.

Madam, I humbly kiss your hands, and beg pardon for this trouble, from

'Your ladys.h.i.+p's 'most humble servant, 'E. WALLER.'

He lived to converse with lady Sunderland when she was very old, but his imprecations relating to her gla.s.s did not succeed, for my lady knew she had the disease which nothing but death could cure; and in a conversation with Mr. Waller, and some other company at lady Wharton's, she asked him in raillery, 'When, Mr. Waller, will you write such fine verses upon me again?' 'Oh Madam,' said he, 'when your ladys.h.i.+p is as young again.'

In the year 1640, Mr. Waller was returned Burgess for Agmondesham, in which Parliament he opposed the court measures. The writer of his life observes[2], 'that an intermission of Parliaments for 12 years disgusted the nation, and the House met in no good humour to give money. It must be confessed, some late proceedings had raised such jealousies as would be sure to discover themselves, whenever the King should come to ask for a supply; and Mr. Waller was one of the first to condemn those measures. A speech he made in the House upon this occasion, printed at the end of his poems, gives us some notion of his principles as to government.' Indeed we cannot but confess he was a little too inconstant in them, and was not naturally so steady, as he was judicious; which variable temper was the cause of his losing his reputation, in a great measure, with both parties, when the nation became unhappily divided. His love to poetry, and his indolence, laid him open to the insinuations of others, and perhaps prevented his fixing so resolutely to any one party, as to make him a favourite with either. As Mr. Waller did not come up to the heighths of those who were for unlimited monarchy, so he did not go the lengths of such as would have sunk the kingdom into a commonwealth, but had so much credit at court, that in this parliament the King particularly sent to him, to second his demands of some subsidies to pay the army; and Sir Henry Vane objecting against first voting a supply, because the King would not accept it, unless it came up to his proportion; Mr. Waller spoke earnestly to Sir Thomas Jermyn, comptroller of the houshold, to save his master from the effects of so bold a falsity; for, says he, I am but a country gentleman, and cannot pretend to know the King's mind: but Sir Thomas durst not contradict the secretary; and his son the earl of St. Alban's, afterwards told Mr. Waller, that his father's cowardice ruined the King.

In the latter end of the year 1642, he was one of the commissioners appointed by the Parliament, to present their propositions for peace to his Majesty at Oxford. Mr. Whitelocke, in his Memorials, tells us, that when Mr. Waller kissed the King's hand in the garden at Christ's Church, his Majesty said to him, 'though you are last, yet you are not the worst, nor the least in our favour.' The discovery of a plot, continues Mr. Whitelocke, 'then in hand in London to betray the Parliament, wherein Mr. Waller was engaged, with Chaloner, Tomkins, and others, which was then in agitation, did manifest the King's courts.h.i.+p of Mr. Waller to be for that service.'

In the beginning of the year 1643, our poet was deeply engaged in the design for the reducing the city of London, and the Tower, for the service of his Majesty, which being discovered, he was imprisoned, and fined ten thousand pounds. As this is one of the most memorable circ.u.mstances in the life of Waller, we shall not pa.s.s it slightly over, but give a short detail of the rise, progress, and discovery of this plot, which issued not much in favour of Mr. Waller's reputation.

Lord Clarendon observes[3], 'that Mr. Waller was a gentleman of very good fortune and estate, and of admirable parts, and faculties of wit and eloquence, and of an intimate conversation and familiarity with those who had that reputation. He had, from the beginning of the Parliament, been looked upon by all men, as a person of very entire affections to the King's service, and to the established government of church and state; and by having no manner of relation to the court, had the more credit and interest to promote the service of it. When the ruptures grew so great between the King, and the two houses, that many of the Members withdrew from those councils, he, among the rest, absented himself, but at the time the standard was set up, having intimacy and friends.h.i.+p with some persons now of nearness about the King, with his Majesty's leave he returned again to London, where he spoke, upon all occasions, with great sharpness and freedom, which was not restrained, and therefore used as an argument against those who were gone upon pretence, that they were not suffered to declare their opinion freely in the House; which could not be believed, when all men knew what liberty Mr. Waller took, and spoke every day with impunity, against the proceedings of the House; this won him a great reputation with all people who wished well to the King; and he was looked upon as the boldest champion the crown had in either House, so that such Lords and Commons who were willing to prevent the ruin of the kingdom, complied in a great familiarity with him, at a man resolute in their ends, and best able to promote them; and it may be, they believed his reputation at court so good, that he would be no ill evidence there of other men's zeal and affection; so all men spoke their minds freely to him, both of the general distemper, and of the pa.s.sions and ambition of particular persons, all men knowing him to be of too good a fortune, and too wary a nature, to engage himself in designs of hazard.'

Mr. Tomkins already mentioned, had married Waller's sister, and was clerk of the Queen' council, and of very good fame for honesty and ability; great interest and reputation in the city, and conversed much with those who disliked the proceedings of the Parliament, from whom he learned the dispositions of the citizens on all accidents, which he freely communicated to his brother Waller, as the latter imparted to him whatever observations he made from those with whom he conversed.

Mr. Waller told him, that many lords and commons were for a peace. Mr.

Tomkins made the same relation with respect to the most substantial men of London, which Mr. Waller reported to the well affected members of both houses; and Mr. Tomkins to the well affected citizens; whence they came to a conclusion, that if they heartily united in the mutual a.s.sistance of one another, they should be able to prevent those tumults which seemed to countenance the distractions, and both parties would be excited to moderation. The lord Conway at that time coming from Ireland incensed against the Scotch, discontented with the Parliament here, and finding Waller in good esteem with the earl of Nor[t]humberland, and in great friends.h.i.+p with the earl of Portland, entered into the same familiarity; and being a soldier, in the discourses they had, he insinuated, it was convenient to enquire into the numbers of the well affected in the city, that they might know whom they had to trust to. Mr. Waller telling Mr. Tomkins this, the latter imparted it to his confidents there; and it was agreed, that some trusty persons in every ward and parish about London should make a list of all the inhabitants, and by guessing at their several affections, compute the strength of that party which opposed an accommodation, and that which was for it.

Lord Clarendon declares, that he believes this design, was to beget such a combination among the well affected parties, that they would refuse to conform to those ordinances of the twentieth part, and other taxes for the support of the war; and thereby or by joint pet.i.tioning for peace, and discountenancing the other who pet.i.tioned against it, to prevail with the Parliament to incline to a determination of the war, 'but that there ever was, says the earl, 'any formed design either of letting the King's army into London, which was impossible to be effected, or raising an army there, and surprizing the Parliament, or any person of it, or of using any violence in, or upon the city, I could never yet see cause to believe.' But it unluckily happened, that while this combination was on foot, Sir Nicholas Crisp procured a commission of array to be sent from Oxford to London, which was carried by the lady Aubigny, and delivered to a gentleman employed by Sir Nicholas to take it of her; and this being discovered at the same time Mr. Waller's plot was, the two conspiracies were blended into one; tho' the earl of Clarendon is satisfied that they were two distinct designs. His lords.h.i.+p relates the discovery of Mr. Waller's plot in this manner: 'A servant of Mr. Tomkins, who had often cursorily overheard his master and Mr. Waller discourse of the subject which we are upon, placed himself behind the hangings, at a time when they were together; and there whilst either of them discovered the language and opinion of the company which they kept, overheard enough to make him believe, that his information and discovery could make him welcome to those whom he thought concerned, and so went to Mr. Pym, and acquainted him with all he had heard, or probably imagined. The time when Mr. Pym was made acquainted with it, is not known; but the circ.u.mstance of publis.h.i.+ng it was such as filled all men with apprehensions.'

'It was on Wednesday the 31st of May, their solemn fast day, when being all at their sermon in St. Margaret's church, Westminster, according to their custom, a letter or message was brought privately to Mr. Pym; who thereupon with some of the most active members rose from their seats, and after a little whispering together, removed out of the church. This could not but exceedingly affect those who stayed behind. Immediately they sent guards to all the prisons, at Lambeth-house, Ely-house, and such places where malignants were in custody, with directions to search the prisoners, and some other places which they thought fit should be suspected. After the sermon was ended, the houses met, and were only then told, that letters were intercepted going to the King and the court at Oxford, which expressed some notable conspiracy in hand, to deliver up the Parliament and the city into the hands of the Cavaliers; and that the time for the execution of it drew near. Hereupon a committee was appointed to examine all persons they thought fit, and to apprehend some nominated at that time; and the same night this committee apprehended Mr. Waller and Mr. Tomkins, and the next day such as they suspected.'

The Houses were, or seemed to be, so alarmed with the discovery of the plot, that six days after they took a sacred vow and covenant, which was also taken by the city and army, denouncing war against the King more directly than they had done before. The earl of Portland and lord Conway were imprisoned on Mr. Waller's accusation, and often confronted with him before the committee, where they as peremptorily denying, as he charging them, and there being no other witness but him against them, they were kept a while in restraint, and then bailed.

Mr. Waller, after he had had 'says the earl of Clarendon, with incredible dissimulation, acted such a remorse of conscience, that his trial was put off out of christian compa.s.sion, till he should recover his understanding (and that was not till the heat and fury of the prosecutors was abated by the sacrifices they had made) and by drawing visitants to himself of the most powerful ministers of all factions, had by his liberality and penitence, his receiving vulgar and vile sayings from them with humility and reverence, as clearer convictions, and informations than in his life he had ever had; and distributing great sums to them for their prayers and ghostly council, so satisfied them, that they satisfied others; was brought at his suit to the bar of the House of Commons on on the 4th of July 1643, where being a man in truth very powerful in language, and who, by what he spoke, and the manner of speaking it, exceedingly captivated the good will, and benevolence of his hearers, with such flattery, as was most exactly calculated to that meridian, with such a submission as their pride took delight in, and such a dejection of mind and spirit, as was like to couzen the major part. He laid before them, their own danger and concernment if they should suffer one of their body, how unworthy and monstrous soever, to be tried by the soldiers, who might thereby grow to such power hereafter, that they would both try those they would not be willing should be tried, and for things which they would account no crime, the inconvenience and insupportable mischief whereof wise commonwealths had foreseen and prevented, by exempting their own members from all judgments but their own. He prevailed, not to be tried by a Council of War, and thereby preserved his dear-bought life; so that in truth he did as much owe the keeping his head to that oration, as Cataline did the loss of his to those of Tully; and having done ill, very well, he by degrees drew that respect to his parts, which always carries some companion to the person, that he got leave to compound for his transgression and them to accept of ten thousand pounds for his liberty; whereupon he had leave to recollect himself in another country (for his liberty was to be banishment) how miserable he had made himself in obtaining that leave to live out of his own.

And there cannot be a greater evidence of the inestimable value of his parts, than that he lived in the good affection and esteem of many, the pity of most, and the reproach and scorn of few, or none.'

After this storm had subsided, Mr. Waller travelled into France, where he continued several years. He took over his lady's jewels to support him, and lived very hospitably at Paris, and except that of lord Jermyn, afterwards earl of St. Alban's, who was the Queen of England's prime minister when she kept her court there, there was no English table but Mr. Waller's; which was so costly to him, that he used to say, 'he was at last come to the Rump Jewel.' Upon his return to England, such was the unsteadiness of his temper, he sided with those in power, particularly the Lord Protector, with whom he lived in great intimacy as a companion, tho' he seems not to have acted for him. He often declared that he found Cromwell very well acquainted with the Greek and Roman story; and he frequently took notice, that in the midst of their discourse, a servant has come to tell him, that such and such attended; upon which Cromwell would rise and stop them; talking at the door, where Mr. Waller could over-hear him say, 'The lord will reveal, the lord will help,' and several such expressions; which when he returned to Mr. Waller, he excused, saying, 'Cousin Waller, I must talk to these men after their own way.'

In 1654 he wrote a panegyric on Oliver Cromwell, as he did a poem on his death in 1658. At the restoration he was treated with great civility by King Charles II, who always made him one of his party in his diversions at the duke of Buckingham's, and other places, and gave him a grant of the provosts.h.i.+p of Eaton-College; tho' that grant proved of no effect. He sat in several Parliaments after the restoration, and wrote a panegyric upon his Majesty's return, which however, was thought to fall much short of that which he before had wrote on Cromwell. The King one day asked him in raillery, 'How is it Waller, that you wrote a better encomium on Cromwell than on me.' May it please your Majesty, answered the bard, with the most admirable fineness, 'Poets generally succeed best in fiction.' Mr. Waller continued in the full vigour of his genius to the end of his life; his natural vivacity bore up against his years, and made his company agreeable to the last; which appears from the following little story.

King James II having ordered the earl of Sunderland to desire Mr.

Waller to attend him one afternoon; when he came, the King carried him into his closet, and there asked him how he liked such a picture?

'Sir, says Mr. Waller, my eyes are dim, and I know not whose it is.'

The King answered, 'It is the Princess of Orange;' and says Mr.

Waller, 'she is like the greatest woman in the world.' 'Whom do you call so, said the King,' 'Queen Elizabeth, said he.' 'I wonder, Mr.

Waller, replied the King, you should think so; but I must confess, she had a wise council;' and Sir, said Mr. Waller, 'did you ever know a Fool chuse a wise one.'

Mr. Waller died of a dropsy October 21, 1687. Finding his distemper encrease, and having yielded all hopes of recovery, he ordered his son-in-law Dr. Peter Birch, to desire all his children to join with him, and give him the sacrament. He at the same time professed himself a believer in revealed religion with great earnestness, telling them, that he remembered when the duke of Buckingham, once talked profanely before King Charles, he told him, 'My lord, I am a great deal older than your grace, and I believe I have heard more arguments for atheism, than ever your grace did; but I have lived long enough to see, there was nothing in them, and so I hope will your grace.' It is said, that had Mr. Waller lived longer, he would have inclined to the revolution, which by the violent measures of James II. he could foresee would happen. He was interred in the church-yard of Beaconsfield, where a monument is erected to his memory, the inscriptions on it were written by Mr. Thomas Rymer.

He left several children behind him: He bequeathed his estate to his second son Edmund, his eldest, Benjamin, being so far from inheriting his father's wit, that he had not a common portion. Edmund, the second Son, used to be chosen member of Parliament for Agmondesham, and in the latter part of his life turned Quaker. William, the third son, was a merchant in London, and Stephen, the fourth, a civilian. Of the daughters, Mary was married to Dr. Peter Birch, prebendary of Westminster; another to Mr. Harvey of Suffolk, another to Mr. Tipping of Oxfords.h.i.+re.