first to read a poetical recantation of his errors in verses addressed
to Charles II. In 1661 he was returned to parliament for Hastings, in
Sussex, and sat afterwards at various times for Chipping-Wycombe, and
Saltash. In parliament, he was rather famed for his lively sallies of
wit, than for his logic, sense, or earnestness. In private, his spirits,
even without the aid of wine,--which he never drank,--continued to a
great age unusually buoyant. As he advanced in life he became more
religious, and intermixed a vein of devotion with his verse. When
eighty-two, he bought a small estate in Coleshill, near his native
place, desirous, he said, "to die, like the stag, where he was roused."
His wish, however, was not granted. Seized with tumours in his legs, he
went to Windsor to consult Sir Charles Scarborough, then waiting on the
king. Sir Charles, at Waller's request to know the "meaning" of these
swellings, told him that they showed that his "blood would no longer
run." On this the poet quietly repeated a passage from Virgil, and
returned to Beaconsfield to die. Having received the sacrament, and
shared it with his children, and expressed his faith in Christianity, he
expired on the 21st of October 1687. He was buried in the churchyard of
Beaconsfield. He left five sons and eight daughters. His eldest son
being an imbecile, Edmund, his second, inherited the estates, and having
joined the party of the Prince of Orange, sat for Agmondesham for some
years, but became ultimately a Quaker. The fortunes of the rest of his
family are not particularly interesting, and need not be related.

As a character, our opinion of Waller has been already indicated. He was
indecisive, vacillating, with more wit than judgment, and with more
judgment than earnestness. In that age of high hearts, stormy passions,
and determined purpose, he looks helpless and not at home, like a
butterfly in an eagle's eyrie. A gifted, accomplished, and apparently an
amiable man, he was a feeble, and almost a despicable character. The