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of a man who was neither the friend of Steele nor of any other man alive, yet there is a dreadful resemblance to the original in the savage and exaggerated traits of the caricature, and everybody who knows him must recognize Dick Steele. Dick set about almost all the undertakings of his life with inadequate means, and, as he took and furnished a house with the most generous intentions towards his friends, the most tender gallantry towards his wife, and with this only drawback, that he had not wherewithal to pay the rent when quarter-day came, so, in his life, he proposed to himself the most magnificent schemes of virtue, forbearance, public and private good, and the advancement of his own and the national religion; but when he had to pay for these articles so difficult to purchase and so costly to maintain poor Dick's money was not forthcoming: and when Virtue called with her little bill, Dick made a shuffling excuse that he could not see her that morning, having a head ache from being tipsy overnight; or when stern Duty rapped at the door with his account, Dick was absent, and not ready to pay. He was shirking at the tavern; or had some particular business (of somebody's else)

Although this portrait is the work | at the ordinary: or he was in hiding, or worse than in hiding, in the lockup house. What a situation for a man! for a philanthropist - for a lover of right and truth for a magnificent designer and schemer! Not to dare to look in the face the Religion which he adored and which he had offended to have to shirk down back lanes and alleys, so as to avoid the friend whom he loved and who had trusted him; to have the house which he had intended for his wife, whom he loved passionately, and for her ladyship's company which he wished to entertain splendidly, in the possession of a bailiff's man; with a crowd of little creditors, grocers, butchers, and small-coal men - lin'gering round the door with their bills and jeering at him. Alas! for poor Dick Steele! For nobody else, of course. There is no man or woman in our time who makes fine projects and gives them up from idleness or want of means. When Duty calls upon us, we no doubt are always at home and ready to pay that grim taxgatherer. When we are stricken with remorse, and promise reform, we keep our promise, and are never angry, or idle, or extravagant any more. There are no chambers in our hearts, destined for family friends and affections, and now occupied by some Sin's emis sary and bailiff in possession. There are no little sins, shabby peccadilloes, importunate remembrances, or disappointed holders of our promises to reform, hovering at our steps, or knocking at our door! Of course not. We are living in the nineteenth century; and poor Dick Steele stumbled and got up again, and got into jail and out again, and sinned and repented, and loved and suffered, and lived and died, scores of years ago. Peace be with him! Let us think gently of one who was so gentle : let us speak kindly of one whose own breast exuberated with human kindness.

Dennis's pamphlet; on which, says Steele, -"I am only sorry he has offered so much, because the twentieth part would

have over-valued his whole carcass.

But

I know the fellow that he keeps to give answers to his creditors will betray him; for he gave me his word to bring officers on the top of the house that should make a hole through the ceiling of his garret, and so bring him to the punishment he deserves. Some people think this expedient out of the way, and that he would make his escape upon hearing the least noise. I say so too; but it takes him up half an hour every night to fortify himself with his old hair trunk, two or three joint-stools, and some other lumber, which he ties together with cords so fast that it takes him up the

same time in the morning to release him

self."

inen.*

PRIOR, GAY, AND POPE.

MATTHEW PRIOR was one of those famous and lucky wits of the auspicious reign of Queen Anne, whose name it behooves us not to pass over. Mat was a world-philosopher of no small genius, good nature, and acuHe loved, he drank, he sang. He describes himself, in one of his lyrics, "in a little Dutch chaise on a Saturday night; on his left hand his Horace, and a friend on his right," going out of town from the Hague to pass that evening, and the ensuing Sunday, boozing at a Spielhaus with his companions, perhaps bobbing for perch in a Dutch canal, and noting down, in a strain and with a grace not

Gay calls him-"Dear Prior beloved by every muse."- Mr. Pope's Welcome from Greece.

Swift and Prior were very intimate, and he is frequently mentioned in the "Journal to Stella." "Mr. Prior," says Swift, "walks to make himself fat, and I to keep myself down. We often walk round the park together."

In Swift's works there is a curious tract called "Remarks on the Characters of the Court of Queen Anne" [SCOTT's edition, vol. xii.] The "Remarks" are not by the Dean; but at the end of each is an addition in Italics from his hand, and these are always characteristic. Thus, to the Duke of Marlborough, he adds, "Detestably covetous," &c. Prior is thus noticed:

"MATTHEW PRIOR, Esq., Commissioner of Trade.

"On the Queen's accession to the throne, he was continued in his office; is very well at court with the ministry, and is an entire creature of my Lord Jersey's, whom he supports by his advice; is one of the best poets in England, but very facetious in conversation. A thin, hollow-looked man, turned of forty years old. This is near the truth."

"Yet counting as far as to fifty his years, His virtues and vices were as other men's are,

unworthy of his Epicurean master, the charms of his idleness, his retreat, and his Batavian Chloe. A vintner's son in Whitehall, and a distinguished pupil of Busby of the Rod, Prior attracted some notice by writing verses at St. John's College, Cambridge, and, coming up to town, aided Montague * in an attack on the noble old English lion John Dryden; in ridicule of whose work, "The Hind and the Panther," he brought out that remarkable and famous burlesque, "The Town and Country Mouse.' Aren't you all acquainted with it? Have you not all got it by heart? What! have you never heard of it?

High hopes he conceived and he smothered great fears,

In a life party-colored-half pleasure, half care.

"Not to business a drudge, nor to faction a slave,

He strove to make interest and freedom agree;

In public employments industrious and grave,

And alone with his friends, Lord, how merry was he!

"Now in equipage stately, now humble on foot,

Both fortunes he tried, but to neither

would trust;

And whirled in the round as the wheel turned about,

He found riches had wings, and knew man was but dust." -PRIOR'S Poems. [For my own monument.]

"They joined to produce a parody, entitled 'The town and Country Mouse,' part of which Mr. Bayes is supposed to gratify his old friends, Smart and Johnson, by repeating to them. The piece is therefore founded upon the twice-told jest of the Rehearsal."" There is nothing new or original in the idea. ... In this piece, Prior, though the younger man, seems to have had by far the largest share." - SCOTT's Dryden, vol. i, p. 330.

"Thee, gracious Anne, thee present I adore:

Thee, Queen of Peace, if Time and Fate
have power

Higher to raise the glories of thy reign,
In words sublimer and a nobler strain
May future bards the mighty theme re-
hearse.

Here, Stator Jove, and Phœbus, king of

verse,

The votive tablet I suspend."

See what fame is made of! The won- | dorial plate; and in an heroic poem, derful part of the satire was, that, as addressed by him to her late lamented a natural consequence of "The Town Majesty, Queen Anne, Mat makes and Country Mouse," Matthew Prior some magnificent allusions to these was made Secretary of Embassy at dishes and spoons, of which Fate had the Hague! I believe it is dancing, deprived him. All that he wants, he rather than singing, which distin- says, is her Majesty's picture; withguishes the young English diploma- out that he can't be happy. tists of the present day; and have seen them in various parts perform that part of their duty very finely. In Prior's time it appears a different accomplishment led to preferment. Could you write a copy of Alcaics? that was the question. Could you turn out a neat epigram or two? Could you compose "The Town and Country Mouse"? It is manifest that, by the possession of this faculty, the most difficult treaties, the laws of foreign nations, and the interests of our own, are easily understood. Prior rose in the diplomatic service, and said good things that proved his sense and his spirit. When the apartments at Versailles were shown to him, with the victories of Louis XIV. painted on the walls, and Prior was asked whether the palace of the King of England had any such decorations, "The monuments of my master's actions," Mat said, of William whom he cordially revered, are to be seen everywhere except in his own house." Bravo, Mat! Prior rose to be full ambassador at Paris,* where he somehow was cheated out of his ambassa

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With that word the poem stops abruptly. The votive tablet is suspended forever, like Mahomet's coffin. News came that the Queen was dead. Stator Jove, and Phoebus, king of verse, were left there, hovering to this day, over the votive tablet. picture was never got, any more than the spoons and dishes: the inspiration ceased, the verses were not wanted the ambassador wasn't wanted. Poor Mat was recalled from his embassy, suffered disgrace along with his patrons, lived under a sort of cloud ever after, and disappeared in Essex. When deprived of all his pensions and emoluments, the hearty and generous Oxford pensioned him. They played for gallant stakes the bold men of those days - and lived and gave splendidly.

Johnson quotes from Spence a legend, that Prior, after spending an evening with Harley, St. John, Pope, and Swift, would go off and smoke a pipe with a couple of friends of his, a soldier and his wife, in Long Acre. Those who have not read his late Excellency's poems should be warned that they smack not a little of the conversation of his Long Acre friends." Johnson speaks slightingly of his lyrics; but with due deference to the great Samuel, Prior's seem to me

But, in this case, the old prejudice got amongst the easiest, the richest, the the better of the old joke.

most charmingly humorous of English

lyrical poems.* Horace is always in his mind; and his song, and his philosophy, his good sense, his happy, easy turns and melody, his loves and his Epicureanism, bear a great resemblance to that most delightful and accomplished master. In reading his works, one is struck with their modern air, as well as by their happy similarity to the songs of the charming owner of the Sabine farm. In his verses addressed to Halifax, he says, writing of that endless theme to poets, the vanity of human wishes,

"So when in fevered dreams we sink,

And waking, taste what we desire, The real draught but feeds the fire, The dream is better than the drink.

"Our hopes like towering falcons aim At objects in an airy height:

To stand aloof and view the flight, Is all the pleasure of the game."

Would not you fancy that a poet of our own days was singing? and in the verses of Chloe weeping and reproaching him for his inconstancy, where he says, —

* His epigrams have the genuine sparkle.

"THE REMEDY WORSE THAN THE DISEASE.

"I sent for Radcliff; was so ill,

That other doctors gave me over: He felt my pulse, prescribed a pill, And I was likely to recover.

"But when the wit began to wheeze, And wine had warmed the politician, Cured yesterday of my disease,

I died last night of my physician."

Yes, every poet is a fool;

By demonstration Ned can show it; Happy could Ned's inverted rule

Prove every fool to be a poet."

On his death-bed poor Lubin lies,
His spouse is in despair;
With frequent sobs and mutual sighs,
They both express their care.

"A different cause,' says Parson Sly,
'The same effect may give;
Poor Lubin fears that he shall die,
His wife that he may live.""

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Pointing, the lovely moralist said: See, friend, in some few leisure hours, See yonder what a change is made! "Ah me! the blooming pride of May

And that of Beauty are but one: At morn both flourisht, bright and gay, Both fade at evening, pale and gone. "At dawn poor Stella danced and sung, The amorous youth around her bowed:

At night her fatal knell was rung;

I saw, and kissed her in her shroud. "Such as she is who died to-day,

Such I, alas, may be to-morrow: Go, Damon, bid the Muse display

The justice of thy Chloe's sorrow."

Damon's knell was rung in 1721. May his turf lie lightly on him! Deus sit propitius huic potatori, as Walter de Mapes sang.* * Perhaps Samuel

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Johnson, who spoke slightingly of than he was willing to own.
Prior's verses, enjoyed them more
respondence; but with that additional
benefit I am of opinion it will look more
cheerful and thrive better: for in this
case, as in love, though a man is sure of
his own constancy, yet his happiness de-
pends a good deal upon the sentiments
of another, and while you and Chloe are
alive, 'tis not enough that I love you both,
except I am sure you both love me again;
and as one of her scrawls fortifies my
mind more against affliction than all Epic-
tetus, with Simplicius's comments
the bargain, so your single letter gave me
more real pleasure than all the works of
Plato.
I must return my answer
to your very kind question concerning my
health. The Bath waters have done a
good deal towards the recovery of it, and
the great specific, Cape caballum, will, I
think, confirm it. Upon this head I must
tell you that my mare Betty grows blind,
and may one day, by breaking my neck,
perfect my cure: if at Rixham fair any
pretty nagg that is between thirteen and
fourteen hands presented himself, and you
would be pleased to purchase him for ine,
one of your servants might ride him to
Euston, and I might receive him there.
This, sir, is just as such a thing happens.
If you hear, too, of a Welsh widow, with
a good jointure, that has her goings and
is not very skittish, pray, be pleased to
cast your eye on her for me too. You
see, sir, the great trust I repose in your
skill and honor, when I dare put two such
commissions in your hand." - The
Hanmer Correspondence, p. 120.

old moralist had studied them as well

departure; having here received more distinguished honor than any Minister, except an Ambassador, ever did, and some which were never given to any but who had that character; having had all the success that could be expected; having (God be thanked!) spared no pains, at a time when at home the peace is voted safe and honorable-at a time when the Earl of Oxford is Lord Treasurer and Lord Bolingbroke First Secretary of State? This unfortunate person, I say, neglected, forgot, unnamed to any thing that may speak the Queen satisfied with his services, or his friends concerned as to his fortune.

"FROM MR. PRIOR.

"Paris, 1-12 May, 1714. "MY DEAR LORD AND FRIEND,

"MATTHEW never had so great occasion to write a word to Henry as now: it is noised here that I am soon to return. The question that I wish I could answer to the many that ask, and to our friend Colbert de Torcy (to whom I made your compliments in the manner you commanded) is, what is done for me; and to what I am recalled? It may look like a bagatelle, what is to become of a philosopher like me? but it is not such: what is to become of a person who had the honor to be chosen, and sent hither as intrusted, in the midst of a war, with what the Queen designed should make the peace; returning with the Lord Bolingbroke, one of the greatest men in England, and one of the finest heads in Europe (as they say here, if true or not, n'importe); having been left by him in the greatest character (that of Her Majesty's Plenipotentiary), exercising that power conjointly with the Duke of Shrewsbury, and solely after his

"Mr. de Torcy put me quite out of countenance, the other day, by a pity that wounded me deeper than ever did the cruelty of the late Lord Godolphin. He said he would write to Robin and Harry about me. God forbid, my lord, that I should need any foreign intercession, or owe the least to any Frenchman living, besides the decency of behavior and the returns of common civility: some say I am to go to Baden, others that I am to be added to the Commissioners for settling the commerce. In all cases I am ready, but in the mean time, dic aliquid de tribus capellis. Neither of these two are, I presume, honors or rewards, neither of them (let me say to my dear Lord Bolingbroke, and let him not be angry with me) are what Drift may aspire to, and what Mr. Whitworth, who was his fellow-clerk, has or may possess. I am far from desiring to lessen the great merit of the gentleman I named, for I heartily esteem and love him; but in this trade of ours, my lord, in which you are the general, as in that of the soldiery, there is a certain right acquired by time and long service. You would do any thing for your Queen's service, but you would not be contented to descend, and be degraded to a charge, no way proportioned to that of Secretary of State, any more than Mr. Ross, though he would charge a party with a halbard in his hand, would be content all his life after to be Sergeant. Was my Lord Dartmouth, from Secretary, returned again to be Commissioner of Trade, or from Secretary of War, would Frank Gwyn think himself kindly used to be returned again to be Commissioner? In short, my lord, you have put me above myself, and if I am to return to myself, I shall return to something very discontented and uneasy. I am sure, my lord, you will make the best use you can of this hint for my good. If I am to have any thing, it will certainly be for Her Majesty's service, and the credit of my friends in the Ministry, that it be done

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