In his Epilogues to Phædra and to Lucius, he is very happily facetious; but in the Prologue before the Queen, the pedant has found his way, with Minerva, Perſeus, and Andromeda.
His Epigrams and lighter pieces are, like thoſe of others, ſometimes elegant, ſometimes trifling, and ſometimes dull; among the beſt are the Camelion, and the epitaph of John and Joan.
Scarcely any one of our Poets has written ſo much, and tranſlated ſo little: the verſion of Callimachus is ſufficiently licentious; the paraphraſe on St. Paul’s Exhortation to Charity is eminently beautiful.
Alma is written in profeſſed imitation of Hudibras, and has at leaſt one accidental reſemblance: Hudibras wants a plan, becauſe it is left imperfect; Alma is imperfect, becauſe it ſeems never to have had a plan. Prior appears not to have propoſed to himself any drift or deſign, but to have written the caſual dictates of the preſent moment.
What Horace ſaid when he imitated Lucilius, might be ſaid of Butler by Prior, his numbers were not ſmooth or neat: Prior excelled him in verſification; but he was, like Horace, inventore minor; he had not Butler’s exuberance of matter and variety of illuſtration. The ſpangles of wit which he could afford, he knew how to poliſh; but he wanted the bullion of his maſter. Butler pours out a negligent profuſion, certain of the weight, but careleſs of the ſtamp. Prior has comparatively little, but with that little he makes a fine ſhew. Alma has many admirers, and was the only piece among Prior’s works of which Pope ſaid that he ſhould wiſh to be the author.
Solomon is the work to which he entruſted the protection of his name, and which he expected ſucceeding ages to regard with veneration. His affection was natural; it had undoubtedly been written with great labour; and who is willing to think that he has been labouring in vain? He had infuſed into it much knowledge and much thought; had often poliſhed it to elegance, often dignified it with ſplendour, and ſometimes heightened it to ſublimity: he perceived in it many excellences, and did not diſcover that it wanted that without which all others are of ſmall avail, the power of engaging attention and alluring curioſity.
Tediouſneſs is the moſt fatal of all faults; negligences or errors are ſingle and local, but tediouſneſs pervades the whole; other faults are cenſured and forgotten, but the power of tediouſneſs propagates itſelf. He that is weary the firſt hour, is more weary the ſecond; as bodies forced into motion, contrary to their tendency, paſs more and more ſlowly through every ſucceſſive interval of space.
Unhappily this pernicious failure is that which an author is leaſt able to diſcover. We are ſeldom tireſome to ourſelves; and the act of compoſition fills and delights the mind with change of language and ſucceſſion of images; every couplet when produced is new, and novelty is the great ſource of pleaſure. Perhaps no man ever thought a line ſuperfluous when he firſt wrote it, or contracted his work till his ebullitions of invention had ſubſided. And even if he ſhould controul his deſire of immediate renown, and keep his work nine years unpubliſhed, he will be ſtill the author, and ſtill in danger of deceiving himſelf: and if he conſults his friends, he will probably find men who have more kindneſs than judgement, or more fear to offend than deſire to inſtruct.
The tediouſneſs of this poem proceeds not from the uniformity of the ſubject, for it is ſufficiently diverſified, but from the continued tenour of the narration; in which Solomon relates the ſucceſſive viciſſitudes of his own mind, without the intervention of any other ſpeaker, or the mention of any other agent, unleſs it be Abra; the reader is only to learn what he thought, and to be told that he thought wrong. The event of every experiment is foreſeen, and therefore the proceſs is not much regarded.
Yet the work is far from deſerving to be neglected. He that ſhall peruſe it will be able to mark many paſſages to which he may recur for inſtruction or delight; many from which the poet may learn to write, and the philoſopher to reaſon.
If Prior’s poetry be generally conſidered, his praiſe will be that of correctness and induſtry, rather than of compaſs of comprehenſion, or activity of fancy. He never made any effort of invention: his greater pieces are only tissues of common thoughts; and his ſmaller, which consist of light images or ſingle conceits, are not always his own. I have traced him among the French Epigrammatiſts, and have been informed that he poached for prey among obſcure authors. The Thief and Cordelier is, I ſuppoſe, generally conſidered as an original production; with how much juſtice this Epigram may tell, which was written by Georgius Sabinus, a poet now little known or read, though once the friend of Luther and Melancthon:
De Sacerdote Furem conſolante.
Quidam ſacridicus furem camitatus euntem
Huc ubi dat ſontes carnificina neci,
Ne ſis mœſtus, ait; ſummi conviva Tonantis
Jam cum cœlitibus (ſi modo credis) eris.
Ille gemens, ſi vera mihi ſolatia præbes,
Hoſpes apud ſuperos ſis meus oro, refert.
Sacrificus contra; mihi non conviva fas eſt
Ducere, jejunas hac edo luce nihil.
What he has valuable he owes to his diligence and his judgement. His diligence has juſtly placed him amongſt the moſt correſt of the Engliſh poets; and he was one of the firſt that reſolutely endeavoured at correctneſs. He never ſacrifices accuracy to haſte, nor indulges himſelf in contemptuous negligence, or impatient idleneſs; he had no careleſs lines, or entangled ſentiments: his words are nicely ſelected, and his thoughts fully expanded. If this part of his character ſuffer any abatement, it muſt be from the diſproportion of this rhymes, which have not always ſufficient conſonance, and from the admiſſion of broken lines into his Solomon; but perhaps he thought, like Cowley, that hemiſtichs ought to be admitted into heroic poetry.
He had apparently ſuch rectitude of judgement as ſecured him from every thing that approached to the ridiculous or abſurd; but as laws operate in civil agency not to the excitement of virtue, but the repreſſion of wickedneſs, ſo judgment in the operations of intellect can hinder faults, but not produce excellence. Prior is never low, nor very often ſublime. It is ſaid by Longinus of Euripides, that he forces himſelf ſometimes into grandeur by violence of effort, as the lion kindles his fury by the laſhes of his own tail. Whatever Prior obtains above mediocrity ſeems the effort of ſtruggle and of toil. He has many vigorous but few happy lines; he has every thing by purchaſe, and nothing by gift; he had no nightly viſitations of the Muſe, no infuſions of ſentiment or felicities of fancy.
His diction, however, is more his own than that of any among the ſucceſſors of Dryden; he borrows no lucky turns, or commodious modes of language, from his predeceſſors. His phraſes are original, but they are ſometimes harſh; as he inherited no elegances, none has he bequeathed. His expreſſion has every mark of laborious ſtudy: the line ſeldom ſeems to have been formed at once; the words did not come till they were called, and were then put by conſtraint into their places, where they do their duty, but do it ſullenly. In his greater compoſitions there may be found more rigid ſtatelineſs than graceful dignity.
Of verſification he was not negligent: what he received from Dryden he did not loſe; neither did he increaſe the difficulty of writing by unneceſſary ſeverity, but uses Triplets and Alexandrines without ſcruple. In his Preface to Solomon he propoſes some improvements, by extending the ſenſe from one couplet to another, with variety of pauſes. This he has attempted, but without ſucceſs; his interrupted lines are unpleaſing, and his ſenſe as leſs diſtinct is leſs ſtriking.
He has altered the Stanza of Spenſer, as a houſe is altered by building another in its place of a different form. With how little reſemblance he has formed his new Stanza to that of his maſter, theſe ſpecimens will ſhew:
SPENSER.
She flying faſt from heaven’s hated face,
And from the world that her diſcover’d wide,
Fled to the waſteful wilderneſs apace,
From
living eyes her open ſhame to hide,
And lurk’d in rocks and caves long uneſpy’d.
But that fair crew of knights, and Una fair,
Did in that caſtle afterwards abide,
To reſt themſelves, and weary powers repair,
Where ſtore they found of all, that dainty was and rare.
PRIOR.
To the cloſe rock the frighted raven flies,
Soon as the riſing eagle cuts the air:
The ſhaggy wolf unſeen and trembling lies,
When the hoarſe roar proclaims the lion near.
Ill-ſtarr’d did we our forts and lines forſake,
To dare our British foes to open fight:
Our conqueſt we by ſtratagem ſhould make:
Our triumph had been founded in our flight.
’Tis ours, by craft and by ſurpriſe to gain:
’Tis theirs, to meet in arms, and battle in the plain.
By this new ſtructure of his lines he has avoided difficulties; nor am I ſure that he has loſt any of the power of pleaſing; but he no longer imitates Spenſer.
Some of his poems are written without regularity of meaſures; for, when he commenced poet, he had not recovered from our Pindarick infatuation; but he probably lived to be convinced, that the eſſence of verſe is order and conſonance.
His numbers are ſuch as mere diligence may attain; they ſeldom offend the ear, and ſeldom ſooth it; they commonly want airineſs, lightneſs, and facility: what is ſmooth, is not soft. His verses always roll, but they seldom flow.
A survey of the life and writings of Prior may exemplify a sentence which he doubtless understood well, when he read Horace at his uncle’s; “the vessel long retains the scent which it first receives.” In his private relaxation he revived the tavern, and in his amorous pedantry he exhibited the college. But on higher occasions and nobler subjects, when habit was overpowered by the necessity of reflection, he wanted not wisdom as a statesman, or elegance as a poet.
Matthew Prior by Henry Austin Dobson
From ‘Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900’, Volume 46
MATTHEW PRIOR (1664–1721), poet and diplomatist, was born on 21 July 1664. As to the place of his birth there has been some hesitation, arising chiefly from the contradictory nature of the records which bear upon his subsequent connection with St. John’s College, Cambridge. In two of these he is described as ‘Middlesexiensis,’ in a third as ‘Dorcestriensis;’ but the bulk of tradition is in favour of the latter, the exact place of birth being supposed to have been Wimborne, or Wimborne Minster, in East Dorset, where his father, George Prior, is said to have been a joiner (cf. Mayor, Admission to St. John’s College, ii. 92–3). There is, however, no record of his baptism at that locality. This has been accounted for by the supposition that his parents were nonconformists, and to this he himself is thought to refer in his first epistle to his friend, Fleetwood Sheppard —
So at pure Barn of loud Non-Con,
Where with my Granam I have gone.
Another tradition makes him a pupil at the Wimborne free grammar school; and a third, too picturesque to be neglected, affirms the hole that perforates a copy of Raleigh’s ‘History of the World,’ which is, or was, to be found in the church library over the old sacristy of St. Cuthberga in Wimborne, to have been caused by the youthful Prior, who fell asleep over it with a lighted candle. Unfortunately, it has been proved conclusively by Mr. G. A. Aitken (Contemporary Review, May 1890) that the books were placed in the library at a much later date than Prior’s boyhood. While he was still very young his father moved to Stephen’s Alley, Westminster, either to be near the school or to be near his own brother Samuel, a vintner at the Rhenish Wine House in Channel (now Cannon) Row. George Prior sent his son to Westminster School, then under the rule of Dr. Busby. Dying shortly afterwards, his widow was unable to pay the school fees, and young Prior, who had then reached the middle of the third form, was taken into his uncle’s house to assist in keeping the accounts, his seat being in the bar. Here, coming one day to ask for his friend, Fleetwood Sheppard , Lord Dorset found the boy reading Horace, and, after questioning him a little, set him to turn an ode into English. Prior speedily brought it upstairs to Dorset and his friends, so well rendered in verse that it became the fashion with the users of the house to give him passages out of Horace and Ovid to translate. At last, upon one occasion, when Dr. Sprat, the dean of Westminster, and Mr. Knipe, the second master at the school, were both present, Lord Dorset asked the boy whether he would go back to his studies. Uncle and nephew being nothing loth, Prior returned to Westminster, the earl paying for his books, and his uncle for his clothes, until such time as he could become a king’s scholar, which he did in 1681. It was at this date that Prior made the acquaintance of Charles and James Montagu, the sons of the Hon. George Montagu, whose residence, Manchester House, was in Channel Row, opposite the Rhenish Wine House [see Montagu, Charles, earl of Halifax; and Montagu, Sir James, 1666–1723]. With both of the brothers, but chiefly with the younger, James (afterwards lord chief baron of the exchequer), Prior formed a close friendship. In 1682 Charles Montagu, also a king’s scholar, was admitted a fellow commoner of Trinity College, Cambridge, and a year later Prior, finding that James Montagu would probably follow his brother’s example, and fearing also that he himself would be sent to Christ Church, Oxford, accepted, against Lord Dorset’s wish, one of three scholarships then recently established at St. John’s College, Cambridge, by the Duchess of Somerset. Being the only Westminster boy at St. John’s, he attracted exceptional notice; but for the time he alienated his patron.
In 1686 he took his bachelor’s degree, and in the following year made his first literary essay, a reply to Dryden’s ‘Hind and Panther.’ This was entitled ‘The Hind and the Panther transvers’d to the Story of the Country-Mouse and the City-Mouse.’ His ostensible collaborator in this satire, which had small literary merit but gave much satisfaction to the ‘no popery’ party, was Charles Montagu; but it is probable that Prior was the active partner (cf. Spence, Anecdotes, ed. Singer, 1858, ; Beljame, Le Public et les Hommes de Lettres en Angleterre, ). In April 1688 Prior obtained a fellowship, and composed the annual poetical tribute which St. John’s College paid to one of its benefactors, the Earl of Exeter. This was a rhymed exercise, in the Cowley manner, upon Exodus iii. 14, and is preserved in Prior’s poems. One of its results was that Prior became tutor to Lord Exeter’s sons. His office, however, was of brief duration, for Lord Exeter broke up his household after the revolution and went to Italy. Thereupon Prior applied to his old patron, Lord Dorset, and ultimately, probably by the good offices of Fleetwood Sheppard, was appointed secretary to Lord Dursley (afterwards Earl of Berkeley), then starting as King William’s ambassador to the Hague. This appointment is usually regarded as a reward of literary merit; but apart from his share in the ‘Town and Country Mouse,’ the interest of which was mainly political, Prior had at this date produced nothing of importance, and his post might have been given to any other university man of promise who could command the patronage of Dorset. In Holland he stayed for several years, being made in the interim gentleman of the bedchamber to King William, with whom he found considerable favour, especially during the great congress of 1691. He also at this time wrote several court poems, notably a ‘Hymn to the Sun,’ 1694; memorial verses on Queen Mary’s death, 1695; and an admirable ballad paraphrase of Boileau’s pompous ‘Ode sur la Prise de Namur,’ which stronghold, it will be remembered, had fallen to the French in 1692, only to be retaken by the English three years later. This last jeu d’esprit was published anonymously in September 1695. Another metrical tribute to William followed the assassination plot of 1696, to which year, in addition, belongs the clever little occasional piece, not printed until long after its author’s death, entitled ‘The Secretary,’ and describing his distractions while in Holland.
Throughout all this period, Prior was acting diligently as a diplomatist. It has sometimes been consid
ered that his qualifications in this way were slight; but his unprinted papers completely negative this impression. He had the good fortune to please both Anne and Louis XIV, as well as William; and the fact that Swift and Bolingbroke later acknowledged his business aptitude and acquaintance with matters of trade may fairly be set against any contention to the contrary on the part of political opponents.
In 1697 he was employed as secretary in the negotiations at the treaty of Ryswick, for bringing over the articles of peace in connection with which, ‘to their Excellencies the Lords Justicies,’ he received a gratuity of two hundred guineas. Subsequently he was nominated secretary of state in Ireland, and then, in 1698, he went to Paris as secretary to the embassy, serving successively under the Earl of Portland and the Earl of Jersey, with the latter of whom he returned to England. But he went again to Paris for some time with the Earl of Manchester, and then, after ‘a very particular audience’ with his royal master, in August 1699, at Loo in Holland, was sent home in the following November with the latest tidings of the pending partition treaty. His old master, Lord Jersey, was secretary of state, and Prior became an under-secretary. In the winter of 1699 he produced his ‘Carmen Seculare for the Year 1700,’ a glorification of the ‘acts and gests’ of ‘the Nassovian.’ The university of Cambridge made him an M.A., and upon the retirement of John Locke, invalided, he became a commissioner of trade and plantations, afterwards entering parliament as member for East Grinstead. His senatorial career was but short, as the parliament in which he sat only lasted from February to June 1701. In the impeachment by the tories of Somers, Orford, and Halifax for their share in framing the partition treaty, Prior followed Lord Jersey in voting against those lords; but it is alleged that neither he nor Jersey had ever favoured the negotiation, although they considered themselves bound to obey the king’s orders, and this, as far as Prior is concerned, receives support from his own words in the later poem of ‘The Conversation,’ 1720:
Complete Works of Matthew Prior Page 63
