I went, as you said, to France; where, instead of the churlish humour of a malcontent, or the unmanly dejection of a disgraced exile, I appeared with an ease and gaiety of mind, which made me welcome to the greatest men of that country. The ruling principle of my philosophy was, to make the best of every situation. And, as my fortune enabled me to do it, I lived with hospitality, and even splendour; and indulged myself in all the delights of an enlarged and elegant conversation.
Such were my amusements for some years; during which time, however, I preserved the notions of loyalty, which had occasioned my disgrace, and waited some happier turn of affairs, that might restore me with honour to my country. But when all hopes of this sort were at an end, and the government, after the various revolutions which are well known, seemed fixed and established in the person of one man, it was not allegiance, but obstinacy, to hold out any longer. I easily succeeded in my application to be recalled, and was even admitted to a share in the confidence of the Protector. This great man was not without a sensibility of true glory; and, for that reason, was even ambitious of the honour, which wit and genius are ever ready to confer on illustrious greatness. Every muse of that time distinguished, and was distinguished by, him. Mine had improved her voice and accent in a foreign country: and what nobler occasion to try her happiest strain than this, of immortalizing a Hero?
“Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse,
And ev’ry conqueror creates a muse;”
as I then said in a panegyric, which my gratitude prompted me to present to him[28].
DR. MORE.
This panegyric, presented in verse, could hardly, I suppose, be suspected of flattery!
MR. WALLER.
I expected this; but the occasion, as I said, might have suggested a fairer interpretation. And why impute as a fault to me, what the reverend Sprat, as well as Dryden, did not disdain to countenance by their examples? Besides, as an argument of the unsullied purity of intention, you might remember, methinks, that I asked no recompence, and accepted none, for the willing honours my muse paid him.
DR. MORE.
It must be a sordid muse indeed, that submits to a venal prostitution. And, to do your profession justice, it is not so much avarice, or even ambition, as a certain gentler passion, the vanity, shall I call it? of being well with the great, that is fatal to you poets.