Poets, indeed, profess fiction; but the legitimate end of fiction is
the conveyance of truth, and he that has flattery ready for all whom
the vicissitudes of the world happen to exalt must be scorned as a
prostituted mind, that may retain the glitter of wit, but has lost
the dignity of virtue.

The Congratulation was considered as inferior in poetical merit to
the Panegyric; and it is reported that, when the king told Waller of
the disparity, he answered, "Poets, Sir, succeed better in fiction
than in truth."

The Congratulation is indeed not inferior to the Panegyric, either
by decay of genius, or for want of diligence, but because Cromwell
had done much and Charles had done little. Cromwell wanted nothing
to raise him to heroic excellence but virtue, and virtue his poet
thought himself at liberty to supply. Charles had yet only the
merit of struggling without success, and suffering without despair.
A life of escapes and indigence could supply poetry with no splendid
images.

In the first Parliament summoned by Charles the Second (March 8,
1661), Waller sat for Hastings, in Sussex, and served for different
places in all the Parliaments of that reign. In a time when fancy
and gaiety were the most powerful recommendations to regard, it is
not likely that Waller was forgotten. He passed his time in the
company that was highest, both in rank and wit, from which even his
obstinate sobriety did not exclude him. Though he drank water, he
was enabled by his fertility of mind to heighten the mirth of
Bacchanalian assemblies; and Mr. Saville said, that "no man in
England should keep him company without drinking but Ned Waller."