'On Butler who can think without just rage, The glory and the scandal of the age? Fair stood his hopes when first he came to town, Met everywhere with welcomes of renown, Courted and loved by all, with wonder read, And promises of princely favour fed; But what reward for all had he at last, After a life of dull expectance passed? The wretch at summing up his misspent days Found nothing left but poverty and praise; Of all his gains by verse he could not save Enough to purchase flannel and a grave; Reduced to want, he in due time fell sick, Was fain to die, and be interred on tick; And well might bless the fever that was sent To rid him hence, and his worse fate prevent.' These spirited verses are certainly exaggerated. Butler, though, as his biographer says, 'personally known to few,' partook on the same authority of the munificence of Dorset, and dying on September 25th, 1680, was buried on September 27th in the churchyard of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, at the expense of another friend, William Longueville, bencher of the Inner Temple, who had previously endeavoured to obtain his interment in Westminster Abbey, where, Atterbury being dean, a tardy monument was erected to him in 1721 by Alderman Barber. Very little is known of the latter years of his life, except that he lived in Rose Street, Covent Garden, and that he suffered much from the gout. He had published a second part of _Hudibras_ in 1664, and a third in 1678, containing many allusions to events much later than the Civil War. He bequeathed his posthumous papers to Longueville, by whom they were carefully preserved, and a large portion eventually came to be published in 1759. They will be treated of in another place. Not much is known of Butler's personal character and habits. He must evidently have been a man of extensive reading, and versed in several languages and literatures. It seems natural to attribute the neglect of so popular an author to some infirmity in his own temper, but the little testimony we have makes the other way. Wood describes him as 'a boon and witty companion;' and Aubrey says, 'A severe and sound judgment, a good fellow.' It must be remembered that he was forty-eight at the Restoration, and had spent almost all his life in the country; we shall also find reason to believe that he was neither enough of a churchman nor enough of a loyalist to be entirely agreeable to his own party.