Our author, in the preceding lines, had employed himself in repelling the charge of his having changed his religion for the sake of interest. His loaves, he says, had not been increased by the change, nor had his assiduity at court intimated any claim upon royal favour: and in reference to her neglect of literary merit, he charges on the church of England the fate of Butler, a brother poet. Of that truly original genius we only know, that his life was spent in dependence, and embittered by disappointment. But unless Dryden alludes to some incident now unknown, it is difficult to see how the church of England could have rewarded his merit. Undoubtedly she owed much to his forcible satire against her lately triumphant rivals, the Presbyterians and Independents; but, unless Butler had been in orders, how could the church have recompensed his poetical talents? The author of the most witty poem that ever was written had a much more natural and immediate claim upon the munificence of the wittiest king and court that ever was in England; nor was his satire less serviceable to royalty than to the established religion. The blame of neglecting Butler lay therefore on Charles II. and his gay courtiers, who quoted "Hudibras" incessantly, and left the author to struggle with obscurity and indigence. The poet himself has, in a fragment called "Hudibras at Court," set forth both the kind reception which Charles gave the poem, and his neglect of the author: Now you must know, Sir Hudibras With such perfections gifted was, And so peculiar in his manner, That all that saw him did him honour. Among the rest, this prince was one, Admired his conversation: This prince, whose ready wit and parts Conquered both men and women's hearts, Was so o'ercome with Knight and Ralph, That he could never claw it off; He never eat, nor drank, nor slept, But Hudibras still near him kept; Nor would he go to church, or so, But Hudibras must with him go; Nor yet to visit concubine, Or at a city feast to dine, But Hudibras must still be there, Or all the fat was in the fire. Now after all, was it not hard, That he should meet with no reward, That fitted out this knight and squire, This monarch did so much admire? That he should never reimburse The man for th' equipage, or horse, Is sure a strange ungrateful thing, In any body but a king. But this good king, it seems, was told, By some that were with him too bold, If e'er you hope to gain your ends, Caress your foes, and trust your friends. Such were the doctrines that were taught, Till this unthinking king was brought To leave his friends to starve and die, A poor reward for loyalty! Note X. _With odious atheist names you load your foes; Your liberal clergy why did I expose? It never fails in charities like those._--P. 205.