MATTHEW PRIOR.*

MR. WALLER has had the satisfaction of giving to the world one of those discoveries which are among the most desirable

prizes of the literary life. This generation has been fortunate in this way. Aristotle's Constitution of Athens, the Mimes of Herondas, and the Poems of Bacchylides are " finds " of the last two decades, not to speak of the more fragmentary

treasure-trove of the Oxyrhynchus and other papyri. This time the discovery has been made in a very different place,— the library of Longleat, Lord Bath's Wiltshire seat. The matter thus added to the known remains of Prior fills a little more than one hundred and fifty pages of the volume now before us. It consists of four "Dialogues of the Dead" in prose and a somewhat larger bulk in verse, some seventy poems containing in all about two thousand four hundred lines. The "Dialogues of the Dead" were known to have existed, for Pope read them and pronounced them to be "very good." They are four in number : "Charles the Emperour and Clenard the Grammarian "—Nicholas Clenard was a. travelling scholar, a countryman and contemporary of Erasmus—" Mr. John Lock and the Seigneur de Montaigne" ;: "The Vicar of Bray and Sir Thomas Moor " ; "Oliver Crom-. well and his Porter." The last of these is the poorest. One does not look in Prior, who certainly was not conspicuous for principle, either moral or political, for a satisfactory apprecia- tion of Cromwell. In "Charles and Clenard" the thought seldom rises above commonplace, though it is vigorously expressed ; "Lock and Montaigne" is often brilliant, but we do not expect the friend of Swift and Bolingbroke to be fair to the champion of Revolution and Toleration. The best

of the set is, beyond question, "The Vicar of Bray and Sir Thomas Moor." The Vicar, compelled by the power which all his opportunism could not deal with to say farewell to his dear vicarage, espies Sir Thomas More, "my good patron," he says, "who gave me the living." Both the interlocutors are allowed to make good points. "I pitied you, Sir," says the Vicar ; "I prayed for you." "You should have given me your spiritual help on the scaffold," replies Sir Thomas. "The times were too ticklish," says the Vicar. What follows is excellent :-

"Moor. More proper therefore for a Divine to have Assisted a Lay-Man in so nice a Conjuncture. Vicar. 0 Lord help You, Sir, I thought you had known better than that (at least since your Death) no Sir, more proper therefore for a Layman to have left the Nicety of such a matter to Divines."

Here is a passage in which the Vicar puts his case neatly :— " Vicar. Aye, Sir, and St. Lawrence, was broiled on a Grid- iron, and St. Protatius had his Head cutt off, and a great many more of them : Lord, there were Females too, St. "Ursula, was Stabbed with a Ponyard, and St. Catharine, broke upon the Wheel. Why do you think I am not acquainted with the Army of Martyrs. Oh Dear, Sir, as their Holy-days came, I constantly did em Justice in my Prones, and set out their Relicts to be kissed by the People. I had one Sermon, you must know, that Matatis lifutandis did the business for a great many of them. I clapt all the praise I could upon the Saint of the Day, and e'en let the rest of the Calendar take it as they thought fit.

Moor. And as you shewed, I suppose, you respected the Relicts of these Saints.

Vicar. Aye marry did I.

Moor. Without any resolution to follow their Example. Vicar. Lord, Sir, They had their way to Heaven, which in all Probability was the nearest ; You were pleased to take That : very well, I had mine, it was a little about indeed, why very well again. We were not all born to be Martyrs any more than Lord Mayors."

And here it is again in verse:—

" Your Conscience, like a fiery Horse, Shou'd never know his Native force : Ride him but with a Moderate Rein, And stroke him down with Worldly gain; Bring him, by management and Art, To every thing that made him start; And strive by just degrees to settle His Native warmth and height of Mettle : And when by use he once has gott An honest, canting, low-Church trott, He'll carry You thro thick and thin, Secure, tho dirty, to your Inn."

This last line is quite perfect. The verse contains little that is likely to increase Prior 'a

reputation as a poet. There is a fragmentary "Session of the • Matthew Prior Dialogues of the Dead, and other Works in Prose and Verse. The Test Edited by A. B. Waller, M.A. Cambridge : at the University Prem. [4s. Bd. net. j

Poets " : Dryden, Waller, Durfey, and Afra (Aphra Behn)— " from the Island of Love with a Shipload of Verse "—Settle and Wycherley, with others less known, appear as claimants for the bays. Apollo inclines to Wycherley, but adds : "There's one rub in your way, The Test, my dear friend, you must certainly take." Another fragment is on "Predestina- tion." Prior did not seem to understand how ill-fitted was his Muse for such themes. He seriously believed that his "Solomon" would bring him both fortune and fame. Very

few people read it then, and certainly no one reads it now. The best thing in the "Poems from Longleat MSS." is the

last, to which Mr. Waller has given the title of " Jinny the Just." Here are some of the stanzas :— "From chiding the Footmen and watching the Lasses, From Nell that burn'd Milk, and Tom that broke Glasses (Sad mischiefs thro which a good housekeeper passes !) From some real Care but more fancy'd vexation

From a life party Coloued half reason half passion Here lies after all the best Wench in the Nation

For the Idiom of words very little She heeded Provided the Matter She drove at succeeded She took and gave Languages just as She needed So for %itching and Market, for bargain & Salo She paid English or Dutch or french down on the Nail But in telling a Story she sometimes did fail Then begging Excuse as She happen'd to Stammer With respect to her betters but none to her Grammer Her blush helpt her out and her Jargon became her Of such terrible beauty She never cou'd boast As with absolute Sway o'er all hearts rules the roast When J— bawls out to the Chair for a Toast But of good Household Features her Person was made Nor by Faction cry'd up nor of Censure afraid And her beauty was rather for Use than Parade Her Blood so well mix't and flesh so well Pasted That tho her Youth faded her Comliness lasted The blew was wore off but the Plum was well tasted . . . . . ......

Retire from this Sepulchre all the Prophane

You that love for Debauch or that marry for gain Retire least Ye trouble the Manes of J—

But Thou that know'st Love above Intrest or lust Strew the Myrtle and Rose on this once belov'd Dust And shed one pious tear upon Jinny the Just Tread soft on her Grave, and do right to her honor Let neither rude hand nor ill Tongue light upon her Do all the smal Favors that now can be done her."

Mr. Waller has done an editor's duty with admirable industry and care. He well deserves the good fortune that has come to him.