Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works ::

That with much Wealth and large encrease, My Lord,
Your happy Granaries are amply stor'd;
That You can boast a Noble race, and show
United Honors Center'd all in You;
That in all Turns of State Your word has stood,
To Your own Honor, and Your Countries Good;
That You so sing, that since great Strephons death
No daring brow claims ev'n the Second wreath:
Yet these Perfections, were my thoughts declar'd,
Nor ask that praise, nor merit that reward,
As that One good, which ev'en Your Foes confess
(If any such there can be) You Possess.
A real Judgment, and a Solid Mind
Expert to use these blessings in their kind,
As Prudence dictates, and as God design'd.

'Tis true, I think not an impartial dole
Of Sense distributed to every Soul;
So that no Two, but can exactly say,
Each had his Measure, tho a diff'rent way:
Yet potent Nature frankly has bestow'd
Such various gifts amongst the mingl'd Crowd,

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That I believe, the dullest of the kind,
Wou'd he but Husband and Manure his Mind,
Might find some Exce'llence there, which well-improv'd
At home might make him Pleas'd, in public Lov'd.

Some with grave Judgment can decide the Cause,
And govern Nations and Establish Laws.
Others in rougher Policy Excell,
Manage their Troops and wage the Battel well.
With useful Science, some, and wholsom rules,
Improve our Virtues, and exalt our Souls.
And some search cunning Nature, and declare
How all things did, and why they thus appear.
Some know to bound the Earth; and some to Guide
The lab'ring Bark above th' impetuous Tyde.
Some can with Art alure the trembling string,
And happy wonders in apt Measures Sing.
Others can form the Hero or the Saint,
In breathing Stone, or animated Paint.
Thus some may profit us, and some may please;
All may have diff'rent Honors, diff'rent ways.

Some have large Wealth and may receive the guest
Others have Wit and Mirth to crown the feast.

Then all that Vice, and those absurdities,
Which every moment every body sees,
Arise, (might I declare my thoughts,) from this;
Not that Men want, but use their Parts amiss:
Not One in Twenty their own Tallents know,
The Ox wou'd champ the bitt, the War horse plough;
The Coward Sieges and Campaigns recites,
The Cripple dances, and the Coxcomb writes.

[1.] Is there a Man, on whom indulgent fate
Has smil'd, and thrown a competent Estate?
With Sense enough to use the blessing right,
To his own Pleasure, and his Friends delight.
On he shal run, where Nature never mean't,
Nor friends, nor force, nor Bedlam, shal prevent.
Perhaps his Whim runs to Divinity,
Not Pulton then, not Casuist ABC,
Or their new Converts, troublesome as he.

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Perhaps to Law; his Cases then shal tire
A City Orphan, or a Norfolk Squire;
His unintelligible Talk shal put
A Widow, or a real Lawyer, out.
Take heed (crys all the Country) come not near!
'Tis Term-time at his Table all the Year.

[2.] Is there another, with such moderate Sence
As just suffices not to give offence?
Tis odds but he shal Print his Poetry,
Thô such perhaps as Higden writes or I:
Nestles amongst the Criticks in the Pitt,
And talks at Will's, and wou'd be thought a Wit.

(1) No Ancient Piece, much harder than the rest,
That by Translation scorns to be exprest,
But all those People who to Phillis chime,
And make admiring and desiring Rhime,
With Emu'lous Labour turn and tumble it,
And heads forthwith are scratch'd, and nailes are bitt.

No happy Picture, whose rich features show
Vandyke! Thy labour, or Thine, Angelo!
But whilst the Dawbers with joint pains combine
To rival each inimitable line,
The great Original comes forth a Sign.

Painters and Poets any thing may dare—
I grant You, Sir, but with a previous care
Of what their Strength denys, & what t'wil bear.
Who, after Waller sings the Holland-fight,
Tells but how Ill 'tis possible to write:
& who wou'd throughly show his want of Skill,
From Lely draws my Lady Cleveland ill.

Well; most their business, their Discourse, their Cloaths,
Their very Vice, unfit for them will chuse.
The Squire from Mother sent unfleg'd and raw,
To learn good breeding and to read the Law,
Though he has little else to justify
His parts, but Innocence and modesty,
Quitts these as soon as possibly he can,
And swears, and drinks, and fain wou'd be —

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The rough Tarpaulin when he home has brought
Health, Strength, and Treasure, every thing but Thought:
Must needs turn Spark forsooth; and to be known
Keeps very High, is jilted, and Undon.

The Land-Commander, whose ill favor'd face
Might make him rail at Love, and break his glass;
If he 'as been once in France, affects to go
Odly ill-drest, and spruce as any Beau,
Ogles, and Combs, and Bows, and does not doubt
To raise his Fortunes by the Pettycoat.

The Awkerd City Spark, who shou'd not Swear
But sneaking Shop-Oaths to put off bad Ware,
Nor drink but at the chusing of the May'r,
Getts very drunk, and with it very rude:
Some Suit their Inclinations, and are lewd;
On Vice, in him, 'tis Saucy to intrude.
Vice (Says the Moralist, and wou'd dispute)
With no Mans Nature realy can Suit.
It may Deceive us thô, Sir; but in these
It looks so ill, it scarse appears to please.

But to my Theme—I firmly still aver
Tis not through want of parts, but want of care,
To use those Parts aright, so many err.
They wont spare time to weigh the good or ill,
We blame their Intellect, the fault lyes in their will.

I know a hopeful Youth about the Town,
Whose Friends and Parts design'd him for the Gown;
His body was but weak, his quiet mind
To gentle peace seemed happily inclin'd:
Yet Thoughtless he, and erring in this Care,
Of his own strength is fall'n in love with War;
Herds with the Fighters, and with pleasure feels
A long Toledo jarring at his Heels:
Talks ill of Sieges rais'd, and Armys led,
And wears his Cravat string, and Breeches red.
I met the Youth, and truly, far from spight,
Told him his Tallent never was to fight—
He frown'd, and said, “Nor Yours perhaps to Write.”

University of Virginia Library

Epistle to Lord ---.