'In this common joy at Penshurst[1], I know, none to whom complaints

may come less unseasonable than to your ladyship, 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

passion 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

sex, 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 glass, 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 sex.

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

'Your ladyship's

'most humble servant,

'E. WALLER.'

He lived to converse with lady Sunderland when she was very old, but

his imprecations relating to her glass 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

ladyship 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

courtship 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

circumstances in the life of Waller, we shall not pass 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 friendship 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 passions 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

assistance 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 friendship 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 petitioning

for peace, and discountenancing the other who petitioned 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 lordship 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

circumstance of publishing 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 compassion, 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 provostship 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 Oxfordshire.

These are the most material circumstances in the life of Mr. Waller, a

man whose wit and parts drew the admiration of the world upon him when

he was living, and has secured him the applause of posterity. As a

statesman, lord Clarendon is of opinion, he wanted steadiness, and

even insinuates, that he was deficient in point of honour; the earl at

least construes his timidity, and apparent cowardice, in a way not

very advantageous to him.

All men have honoured him as the great refiner of English poetry, who

restored numbers to the delicacy they had lost, and joined to

melifluent cadence the charms of sense. But as Mr. Waller is

unexceptionally the first who brought in a new turn of verse, and gave

to rhime all the graces of which it was capable, it would be injurious

to his fame, not to present the reader with the opinions of some of

the greatest men concerning him, by which he will be better able to

understand his particular excellencies, and will see his beauties in

full glow before him. To begin with Mr. Dryden, who, in his dedication

to the Rival Ladies, addressed to the earl of Orrery, thus

characterizes Waller.

'The excellency and dignity of rhime were never fully known till Mr.

Waller sought it: He first made writing easily an art; first shewed us

to conclude the sense most commonly in distichs, which in the verses

of those before him, runs on for so many lines together, that the

reader is out of breath to overtake it.'

Voltaire, in his letters concerning the English nation, speaking of

British poets, thus mentions Waller. 'Our author was much talked of in

France. He had much the same reputation in London that Voiture had in

Paris; and in my opinion deserved it better. Voiture was born in an

age that was just emerging from barbarity; an age that was still rude

and ignorant; the people of which aimed at wit, tho' they had not the

least pretensions to it, and sought for points and conceits instead of

sentiments. Bristol stones are more easily found than diamonds.

Voiture born with an easy and frivolous genius, was the first who

shone in this Aurora of French literature. Had he come into the world

after those great genius's, who spread such glory over the age of

Lewis XIV, he would either have been unknown, would have been

despised, or would have corrected his stile. Waller, tho' better than

Voiture, was not yet a finished poet. The graces breathe in such of

Waller's works as are wrote in a tender strain; but then they are

languid thro' negligence, and often disfigured with false thoughts.

The English had not at this time attained the art of correct writing;

but his serious compositions exhibit a strength and vigour, which

could not have been expected from the softness and effeminacy of his

other pieces.'

The anonymous author of the preface to the second part of our author's

poems, printed in the year 1690, has given his character at large, and

tells us; 'That Waller is a name that carries every thing in it that

is either great, or graceful in poetry. He was indeed the parent of

English verse, and the first who shewed us our tongue had beauty and

numbers in it. The tongue came into his hands like a rough diamond; he

polished it first, and to that degree, that artists since have admired

the workmanship without pretending to mend it. He undoubtedly stands

first in the list of refiners; and for ought I know the last too; for

I question whether in Charles II's reign; the English did not come to

its full perfection, and whether it had not had its Augustan age, as

well as the Latin.' Thus far this anonymous author. If I may be

permitted to give my opinion in so delicate a point as the reputation

of Waller, I shall take the liberty to observe, that had he, in place

of preceding, succeeded those great wits who flourished in the reign

of Charles II, he could never have rose to such great reputation, nor

would have deserved it: No small honour is due to him for the harmony

which he introduced, but upon that chiefly does his reputation stand.

He certainly is sometimes languid; he was rather a tender than a

violent lover; he has not that force of thinking, that amazing reach

of genius for which Dryden is renowned, and had it been his lot to

have appeared in the reign of Queen Anne, I imagine, he would not have

been ranked above the second class of poets. But be this as it may,

poetry owes him the highest obligations for refining it, and every

succeeding genius will be ready to acknowledge, that by copying

Waller's strains, they have improved their own, and the more they

follow him, the more they please.

Mr. Waller altered the Maid's Tragedy from Fletcher, and translated

the first Act of the Tragedy of Pompey from the French of Corneille.

Mrs. Katharine Philips, in a letter to Sir Charles Cotterell, ascribes

the translation of the first act to our author; and observes, that Sir

Edward Filmer did one, Sir Charles Sidley another, lord Buckhurst

another; but who the fifth, says she, I cannot learn.

Mrs. Philips then proceeds to give a criticism on this performance of

Waller's, shews some faults, and points out some beauties, with a

spirit and candour peculiar to her.

The best edition of our author's works is that published by Mr.

Fenton, London 1730, containing poems, speeches, letters, &c. In this

edition is added the preface to the first edition of Mr. Waller's

poems after the restoration, printed in the year 1664.

As a specimen of Mr. Waller's poetry, we shall give a transcript of

his Panegyric upon Oliver Cromwell.

A Panegyric to my Lord PROTECTOR, of the present greatness and joint

interest of his Highness and this Nation.

In the YEAR 1654.

While with a strong, and yet a gentle hand

You bridle faction, and our hearts command,

Protect us from our selves, and from the foe,

Make us unite, and make us conquer too;

The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland (1753) Volume II. · 第 16 / 23 段