In spite of all these attempts to bolster up a tottering throne and an
_effete_ faith, the Revolution came, and Dryden's hopes and prospects
sank like a vision of the night. And now came the hour of his enemies'
revenge! How the Settles, the Shadwells, and the Ravenscrofts, rejoiced
at the downfall of their great foe! and what ironical condolence, or
bitter satirical exultation, they poured over his humiliation! And,
worst of all, he durst not reply. "His powers of satire," says Scott,
"at this period, were of no more use to Dryden than a sword to a man who
cannot draw it." The fate of Milton in miniature had now befallen him;
and it says much for the strength of his mind, that, as in Milton's
case, Dryden's purest and best titles to fame date from his discomfiture
and degradation. Antæus-like, he had now reached the ground, and the
touch of the ground to him, as to all giants, was inspiration.

His history, from this date, becomes, still more than in the former
portions of it, a history of his publications. He was forced back by
necessity to the stage. In 1690, and in the next two years, he produced
four dramas,--one of them, indeed, adapted from the French, but the
other three, original; and one, Don Sebastian, deemed to rank among the
best of his dramatic works. In 1693, another volume of miscellanies,
with more translations, appeared. He also published, about this time, a
new version of "Juvenal and Persius," portions of which were contributed
by his sons John and Charles. His last play, "Love Triumphant," was
enacted--as his first, the "Wild Gallant," had been--without success;
and it is remarkable, that while the curtain dropped heavily and slowly
upon Dryden, it was opening upon Congreve, whose first comedy was
enacted the same year with Dryden's last, and who became the lawful heir
of much of Dryden's licentiousness, and of more than his elegance and
wit.