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to have been well informed of facts, though he may sometimes err in chronology, has delivered as indubitably certain :
“He found Dr. Andrews, Bishop of Winchester, 56 and Dr. Neale, Bishop of Durham, standing be6 hind his Majesty's chair; and there happened someso thing extraordinary,” continues this writer, “in " the conversation those prelates had with the King, so on which Mr. Waller did often reflect. His Ma“ jesty asked the Bishops, “My Lords, cannot I 66 take my subjects money when I want it, without 66 all this formality of parliament?” The Bishop of “Durham readily answered, “God forbid, Sir, but $ you should : you are the breath of our nostrils. 6 Whereupon the King turned and said to the bi“ Thop of Winchester, " Well, my Lord, what $6 say you ?” “Sir,' replied the bishop, I have no $c skill to judge of parliamentary cases.' The King an56 swered, “No put-offs, my Lord; answer me pre“ fently.” Then, Sir,' said he, ' I think it is law$6 ful for you to take my brother Neale's money; for 6. he offers it.' Mr. Waller said, the company was " pleased with this answer, and the wit of it seemed 66 to affect the King; for, a certain lord coming in * soon after, his Majesty cried out, “ Oh, my Lord, ©s they say you lig with my Lady.” No, Sir,' says “ his Lordihip in confusion ; but I like her com« pany, because she has so much wit.' “ Why then," “ says the King, “ do you not lig with my Lord of 66 Winchester there?”
Waller's political and poetical life began nearly together. In his eighteenth year he wrote the poem that appcars first in his works, on the Prince's Escape at St. Andero :" a piece which justifies the obfervation made by one of his editors, that he attained, by a felicity like instinct, a style which perhaps will never be obsolete; and that, “ were we to judge " only by the wording, we could not know what was ** wrote at twenty, and what at fourscore.” His versification was, in luis first eflay, such as it appears in his last performance. By the perusal of Fairfax's translation of Taffo, to which, as * Dryden relates, he confessed himself indebted for the finoothness of his numbers, and by his own nicety of observation, he had already formed such a system of metrical harmony as he never afterwards much needed, or much endeavoured, to improve. Denham corrected his numbers by experience, and gained ground gradually upon the ruggedness of his age ; but what was acquired by Denham was inherited by Waller.
The next poem, of which the subject seems to fix the time, is supposed by Mr. Fenton to be the Address to the Queen, which he considers as congratulating her arrival, in Waller's twentieth year. He is apparently mistaken ; for the mention of the nation's obligations to her frequent pregnancy proves that it was written when she had brought many chil. dren. We have therefore no date of any other poetical production before that which the murder of the Duke of Buckingham occasioned; the steadiness with which the king received the news in the chapel deserved indeed to be rescued from oblivion.
Neither of these pieces that seem to carry their own dates could have been the sudden effusion of
* Preface to his Fables. Dr. J.
fancy. fancy. In the verses on the Prince's escape, the prea diction of his marriage with the Princess of Franca must have been written after the event; in the other, the promises of the King's kindness to the descendants of Buckingham, which could not be properly praised till it had appeared by its effects, thew that time was taken for revision and improvement. It is not known that they were published till they appeared long afterward vith other poems,
Waller was not one of those idolaters of praise who cultivate their minds at the expence of their fortunes. Rich as he was by inheritance, he took care early to grow richer, by marrying Mrs. Banks, a great heiress in the city, whom the interest of the court was employed to obtain for Mr. Crofts. Having brought him a son, who died young, and a daughter, who was afterwards inarried to Mr. Dormer of Oxfordshire, she died in childbed, and left him a widower of about five-and-twenty, gay and wealthy, to please himself with another marriage.
Being too young to refist beauty, and probably too vain to think himself resistible, he fixed his heart, perhaps half fondly and half ambitiously, upon the Lady Dorothea Sidney, eldest daughter of the Earl of Leicester, whom he courted by all the poetry in which Sachariffa is celebrated; the name is derived from the Latin appellation of sugar, and implies, if it means any thing, a spiritless mildnefs, and dull good-nature, such as excites rather tenderness than esteem, and such as, though always treated with kindness, is never tionoured or admired,
Yet he describes Sacharissa as a sublime predominating beauty, of lofty charms, and imperious
influence, on whom he looks with amazement rather than fondness, whose chains he wishes, though in vain, to break, and whose presence is wine that in. flames to madness.
His acquaintance with this high-born dame gave Wit no opportunity of boasting its influence; she was not to be subdued by the powers of verse, but rejected his addresses, it is said, with disdain, and drove him away to solace his disappointment with Amoret or Phillis. She married in 1639 the Earl of Sunderland, who died at Newberry in the King's caule ; and, in her old age, meeting somewhere with Waller, asked him, when he would again write fuch verses upon her; “When you are as young, Madam,” said he, “ and as handsome as you were then.”
In this part of his life it was that he was known to Clarendon, among the rest of the men who were eminent in that age for genius and literature; but known so little to his advantage, that they who read his character will not much condemn Sacharifla, that The did not descend from her rank to his embraces, nor think every excellence comprised in wit.
The Lady was, indeed, inexorable ; but his un. common qualifications, though they had no power upon her, recommended him to the scholars and statesmen ; and undoubtedly many beauties of tbat time, however they might receive his love, were proud of his praises. Who they were, wliom he dignifies with poetical names, cannot now be known. Amoret, according to Mr. Fenton, was the Lady Sophia Murray. Perhaps by traditions preserved in families more may be discovered.
· From the verses written at Penshurst, it has been collected that he diverted his disappointment by a voyage ; and his biographers, from his poem on the Whales, think it not improbable that he visited the Bermudas ; but it seems much more likely that he 1hould amuse himself with forming an imaginary scene, than that so important an incident, as a visit to Ainerica, should have been left floating in conjec, tural probability.
From his twenty-eighth to his thirty-fifth year, he wrote his pieces on the Reduction of Sallee; on the Reparation of St. Paul's; to the King on his Navy; the panegyrick on the Queen Mother; the two poems to the Earl of Northumberland ; and perhaps others, of which the time cannot be difcovered.
When he had lost all liopes of Sachariffa, he looked round him for an easier conquest, and gained a lady of the family of Bresse, or Breaux. The time of his marriage is not exactly known. It has not been discovered that this wife was won by his poetry; nor is any thing told of her, but that she brought him many children. He doubtless praised some whom he would have been afraid to marry, and perhaps married one whom he would have been ashamed to praise. Many qualities contribute to domestick happiness, upon which poetry has no colours to bestow; and many airs and fallies may delight imagination, which he who flatters them never can approve. There are charms made only for distant admiration, No spectacle is nobler than a blaze.
Of this wife, his biographers have recorded that she gave him five sons and eight daughters.