"Here you have the sacred history burlesqued, and Sampson once more
brought into the house of Dagon, to make sport for the Philistines!"

Congreve's last play was The Way of The World, which, though, as he
hints in him dedication it was written with great labour and much
thought, was received with so little favour, that being in a high
degree offended and disgusted, he resolved to commit his quiet and
his fame no more to the caprices of an audience.

From this time his life ceased to be public; he lived for himself
and his friends, and among his friends was able to name every man of
his time whom wit and elegance had raised to reputation. It may be
therefore reasonably supposed that his manners were polite, and his
conversation pleasing. He seems not to have taken much pleasure in
writing, as he contributed nothing to the Spectator, and only one
paper to the Tatler, though published by men with whom he might be
supposed willing to associate: and though he lived many years after
the publication of his "Miscellaneous Poems," yet he added nothing
to them, but lived on in literary indolence, engaged in no
controversy, contending with no rival, neither soliciting flattery
by public commendations, nor provoking enmity by malignant
criticism, but passing his time among the great and splendid, in the
placid enjoyment of his fame and fortune.

Having owed his fortune to Halifax, he continued, always of his
patron's party, but, as it seems, without violence or acrimony, and
his firmness was naturally esteemed, as his abilities were
reverenced. His security therefore was never violated; and when,
upon the extrusion of the Whigs, some intercession was used lest