"reconcile him to those, whom he had moft "offended and provoked; and continued to "his age with that rare felicity, that his company was acceptable, where his spirit was odious; and he was at least pitied, where "he was most detefted."

Such is the account of Clarendon; on which it may not be improper to make fome remarks. "He was very little known till he had ob"tained a rich wife in the city."

He obtained the rich wife about the age of three-and-twenty: an age before which few men are confpicuous much to their advantage. He was known, however, in parliament and at court; and, if he spent part of his time in privacy, it is not unreasonable to fuppofe that he intended the improvement of his mind as

well as of his fortune.

That Clarendon might misjudge the motive of his retirement is the more probable, because he has evidently mistaken the commencement of his poetry, which he fuppofes him not to have attempted before thirty. As his first pieces were perhaps not printed, the fucceffion of his compofitions was not known; and Clarendon, who cannot be imagined to have been very studious of poetry, did not rectify his firft opinion by confulting Waller's book.

Clarendon obferves, that he was introduced to the wits of the age by Dr. Morley; but the writer of his Life relates that he was already among them, when, hearing a noise in the street, and enquiring the cause, they found a fon of Ben Jonfon under an arreft. This was Morley, whom Waller fet free at the expence of one hundred pounds, took him into

the country as director of his ftudies, and then procured him admiffion into the company of the friends of literature. Of this fact, Clarendon had a nearer knowledge than the biographer, and is therefore more to be credited.

The account of Waller's parliamentary eloquence is feconded by Burnet, who, though he calls him "the delight of the house," adds, that "he was only concerned to fay that, which should make him be applauded, " he never laid the bufinefs of the house to "heart, being a vain and empty though a witty man.'

Of his infinuation and flattery it is not unreasonable to believe that the truth is told. Afcham, in his elegant description of those whom in modern language we term Wits, fays, that they are open flatterers, and privy mockers. Waller fhewed a little of both, when, upon fight of the dutchefs of Newcastle's verfes on the death of a Stag, he declared that he would give all his own compofitions to have written them; and being charged with the exorbitance of his adulation, answered, that "nothing was too much to be given, that a

lady might be faved from the difgrace of "fuch a vile performance." This however was no very mifchievous or very unufual deviation from truth: had his hypocrify been confined to fuch tranfactions, he might have been forgiven, though not praised; for who forbears to flatter an author or a lady?

Of the laxity of his political principles, and the weakness of his refolution, he experienced the natural effect, by lofing the esteem of every party. From Cromwel he had only

his recall; and from Charles the Second, who delighted in his company, he obtained only the pardon of his relation Hampden, and the fafety of Hampden's fon.

As far as conjecture can be made from the whole of his writing, and his conduct, he was habitually and deliberately a friend to monarchy. His deviation towards democracy proceeded from his connection with Hampden, for whofe fake he profecuted Crawley with great bitterness; and the invective which he pronounced on that occafion was fo popular, that twenty thousand copies are faid by his biographer to have been fold in one day.

It is confeffed that his faults ftill loft him many friends at least many companions. His convivial power of pleafing is univerfally acknowledged; but thofe who converfed with him intimately, found him not only paffionate, especially in his old age, but refentful; so that the interpofition of friends was fometimes neceffary.

His wit and his poetry naturally connected him with the polite writers of his time: he was joined with lord Buckhurst in the translation of Corneille's Pompey; and is faid to have added his help to that of Cowley in the original draught of the Rehearsal.

The care of his fortune, which Clarendon imputes to him in a degree little less than criminal, was either not conftant or not fuccefsful; for, having inherited a patrimony of three thousand five hundred a year in the time of James the Firft, and augmented it at least by one wealthy marriage, he left, about the time of the Revolution, an income of not

more than twelve or thirteen hundred; which, when the different value of money is reckoned, will be found perhaps not more than a fourth part of what he once poffeffed.

Of this diminution, part was the confequence of the gifts which he was forced to fcatter, and the fine which he was condemned to pay at the detection of his plot; and if his eftate, as is related in his Life, was fequeftered, he had probably contracted debts when he lived in exile; for we are told that at Paris he lived in fplendour, and was the only Englishman except the lord St. Albans that kept a table.

His unlucky plot compelled him to fell a thousand a year; of the wafte of the reft there is no account, except that he is confeffed by his biographer to have been a bad economist. He feems to have deviated from the common practice; to have been a hoarder in his first years, and a fquanderer in his laft.

Of his courfe of ftudies, or choice of books, nothing is known more than that he profeffed himself unable to read Chapman's tranflation of Homer without rapture. His opinion concerning the duty of a poet is contained in his declaration, that "he would blot from his "works any line that did not contain fome "motive to virtue."

THE

HE characters, by which Waller intended to distinguish his writings, are spriteliness and dignity: in his fmaller pieces he endeavours to be gay; in the larger, to be great. Of his airy and light productions, the chief

fource

fource is gallantry, that attentive reverence of female excellence, which has defcended to us from the Gothic ages. As his poems are commonly occafional, and his addreffes perfonal, he was not fo liberally fupplied with grand as with soft images; for beauty is more easily found than magnanimity.

The delicacy, which he cultivated, restrains him to a certain nicety and caution, even when he writes upon the flightest matter, He has therefore in his whole volume nothing burlefque, and feldom any thing ludicrous or familiar. He seems always to do his best; though his fubjects are often unworthy of his care. It is not easy to think without fome contempt on an author, who is growing illuftrious in his own opinion by verses, at one time, “To a Lady, who can do any thing, "but fleep, when the pleases." At another, "To a Lady, who can fleep, when she plea" fes." Now, "To a Lady, on her paffing

"On

through a crowd of people." Then, "a braid of divers colours woven by four fair "Ladies:" "On a tree cut in paper:" or, "To a Lady, from whom he received the copy of verfes on the paper-tree, which for many years had been miffing."

Genius now and then produces a lucky trifle. We ftill read the Dove of Anacreon, and Sparrow of Catullus; and a writer naturally pleases himself with a performance which owes nothing to the fubject. But compofitions merely pretty have the fate of other pretty things, and are quitted in time for fomething useful; they are flowers fragrant and