"The Duke of Buckingham was a man of great parts, and an infinite deal of wit and humour; but wanted judgement, and had no virtue, or principle of any kind. These essential defects made his whole life one continued train of inconsistencies. He was ambitious beyond measure, and implacable in his resentments; these qualities were the effects, or different faces of his pride; which, whenever he pleased to lay aside, no man living could be more entertaining in conversation. He had a wonderful talent in turning all things into ridicule; but, by his own conduct, made a more ridiculous figure in the world, than any other he could, with all his vivacity of wit, and turn of imagination, draw of others. Frolick and pleasure took up the greatest part of his life; and in these he neither had any taste, nor set himself any bounds; running into the wildest extravagancies, and pushing his debaucheries to a height, which even a libertine age could not help censuring as downright madness. He inherited the best estate which any subject had at that time in England; yet, his profuseness made him always necessitous; as that necessity made him grasp at every thing that would help to support his expences. He was lavish without generosity, and proud without magnanimity; and, though he did not want some bright talents, yet, no good one ever made part of his composition; for there was nothing so mean that he would not stoop to, nor any thing so flagrantly impious, but he was capable of undertaking."[315] A patron like Buckingham, who piqued himself on his knowledge of literature, and had the means, if not the inclination, to be liberal, was not likely to want champions, such as they were, to repel the sharp attack of Dryden. Elkanah Settle compliments him with the following lines in his "Absalom Senior," some of which are really tolerable. But who can Amiel's charming wit withstand, The great state-pillar of the muses' land; For lawless and ungoverned had the age The nine wild sisters seen run mad with rage; Debauched to savages, till his keen pen Brought their long banished reason back again; Driven by his satyrs into reason's fence, And lashed the idle rovers into sense. * * * * * Amiel, whose generous gallantry, while fame Shall have a tongue, shall never want a name; Who, whilst his pomp his lavish gold consumes, Moulted his wings to lend a throne his plumes; Whilst an ungrateful court he did attend, Too poor to pay, what it had pride to spend. Another poet, at a period when interest could little sway his panegyrick, has apologized for the versatility and extravagance of the then deceased Duke of Buckingham: