but some of the touches are said to be studied from another puritan employer of Butler's, Sir Henry Rosewell of Ford Abbey in Devonshire. It is supposed that Butler spent some time in France and Holland, which indeed his own writings show. He is not known to have published anything, or to have attained the smallest reputation, until after the death of Cromwell. In 1659, at the age of forty-seven, he first appeared before the public with an anonymous prose tract, in favour of the Stuarts, entitled ‘Mola Asinaria.’ Perhaps in reward for this service, he was appointed secretary to Richard, earl of Carbury, when he was made lord president of Wales in 1660. Lord Carbury made Butler steward of Ludlow Castle. Some bills in which his name occurs are published in ‘Notes and Queries’ (1st ser. v. 5). He married soon after this, his wife being differently described as a spinster of the name of Herbert and as a widow of the name of Morgan. Whatever her name was, she was supposed to be well dowered, and Butler probably had the rashness to resign his appointment at Ludlow on that account, for he certainly did not hold it more than a year. He lived comfortably on his wife's jointure for a time, till the money was lost on bad securities. The obscurity which hangs over every part of Butler's life makes it impossible to say whether he did or did not succeed in securing the patronage of George, duke of Buckingham. Wycherley told a lively story which, if true, shows that Butler was not so successful; but Butler has left a sketch of Buckingham which, though extremely satirical, seems founded on such study as a secretary alone would have the opportunity of making.
At the age of fifty Butler suddenly became famous. Fifteen years before, in the puritan houses where he had lived, he had strung his pungent observations and jingling satirical rhymes into a long heroi-comic poem. The times had changed, and this could now be produced without offence to the ruling powers. On 11 Nov. 1662 was licensed, and early in 1663 appeared, a small anonymous volume entitled ‘Hudibras: the first part written in the time of the late wars.’ This is the first genuine edition, but the manuscript appears to have been pirated, for an advertisement says that ‘a most false and imperfect copy’ of the poem is being circulated without any printer's or publisher's name. Exactly a year later a second part appeared, also heralded by a piracy. The book was introduced at court early in 1663 by the Earl of Dorset, and was instantly patronised by the king. Copies of the first editions of ‘Hudibras’ not very unfrequently have inscriptions showing that they were the gift of Charles II to their first owner. Butler has himself recorded this royal partiality for his book:—
He never ate, nor drank, nor slept,
But ‘Hudibras’ still near him kept;
Nor would he go to church or so,
But ‘Hudibras’ must with him go.
It was, however, the scandal of the age, that though the king was lavish in promises, he never did anything to relieve Butler's poverty. Lord Clarendon also greatly admired him, and had his portrait painted for his own library, but in spite of all his promises gave him no employment. The neglect of Butler is one of the commonplaces of literary morality, but the reader is apt to fancy that Butler was not easy to help. It is not plain that he had any talent, save this one of matchless satire; and in his private intercourse he was unpleasing. From childhood ‘he would make observations and reflections on everything one said or did;’ he had few friends, and was not careful to retain those few. He lived in poverty and obscurity for seventeen years after the first appearance of ‘Hudibras,’ publishing a third part of that poem in 1678 (the different forms of which are described in ‘Notes and Queries,’ 6th ser. vi. 108, 150, 276, 311, 370, 454), and two slight pieces, the ‘Geneva Ballad’ in 1674, and an ‘Ode to the Memory of Du-Val’ in 1671. In 1672 he printed an abusive prose tract against the nonconformists, called ‘Two Letters.’ Butler in his later years was much troubled with the gout, and from October 1679 to Easter 1680 he did not stir out of his room. He lived in Rose Street, Covent Garden, until he died of consumption, although he was not yet seventy, on 25 Sept. 1680. His best friend, William Longueville, a bencher of the Inner Temple, tried to have Butler buried in Westminster Abbey, but found no one to second him in this proposal. He therefore buried the poet at his own expense, on the 27th, in the churchyard of St. Paul's, Covent Garden. Aubrey says:—‘In the north part, next the church at the east end; his feet touch the wall; his grave 2 yards distant from the pilaster of the door, by his desire, 6 foot deep.’ Wood describes Butler as ‘a boon and witty companion, especially among the company he knew well.’ Aubrey writes of Butler's appearance: ‘He is of a middle stature, strong set, high coloured, a head of sorrel hair, a severe and sound judgment, a good fellow.’ This writer, who knew him pretty well, gives us an idea that the legend of Butler's poverty was exaggerated in the reaction which began in his favour soon after his death. A tradition is preserved
