A Benjamin Franklin Reader (4 page)

When he was in London, Franklin’s brother James saw how Grub Street balladeers would churn out odes and hawk them in the coffee-houses. So he had put Benjamin to work not only pushing type but also producing poetry. Young Benjamin wrote two works based on news stories, both dealing with the sea: one about a family killed in a boating accident, and the other about the killing of the pirate known as Blackbeard. They were, as Franklin recalled, “wretched stuff,” but they sold well, which “flattered my vanity.”

Herman Melville would one day write that Franklin was “everything but a poet.” His father Josiah, no romantic, in fact preferred it that way, and he put an end to Benjamin’s versifying. “My father discouraged me by ridiculing my performances and telling me verse-makers were generally beggars; so I escaped being a poet, most probably a very bad one.” A year or so later, Silence Dogood lampooned the formula for poetry and eulogies in Boston.

S
ILENCE
D
OGOOD
# 7,
T
HE
N
EW
-
E
NGLAND
C
OURANT
, J
UNE
25, 1722

Sir,

It has been the complaint of many ingenious foreigners, who have traveled amongst us,
that good poetry is not to be expected in New England.
I am apt to fancy, the reason is, not because our countrymen are altogether void of a poetical genius, nor yet because we have not those advantages of education which other countries have, but purely because we do not afford that praise and encouragement which is merited, when any thing extraordinary of this kind is produced among us: upon which consideration I have determined, when I meet with a good piece of New England poetry, to give it a suitable encomium, and thereby endeavor to discover to the world some of its beauties, in order to encourage the author to go on, and bless the world with more, and more excellent productions.

There has lately appeared among us a most excellent piece of poetry, entitled,
an elegy upon the much lamented death of Mrs. Mehitebell Kitel, wife of Mr. John Kitel of Salem, &c.
It may justly be said in its praise, without flattery to the author, that it is the most
extraordinary
piece that ever was wrote in New England. The language is so soft and easy, the expression so moving and pathetic, but above all, the verse and numbers so charming and natural, that it is almost beyond comparison,

I find no English author, ancient or modern, whose elegies may be compared with this, in respect to the elegance of stile, or smoothness of rhyme; and for the affecting part, I will leave your readers to judge, if ever they read any lines, that would sooner make them
draw their breath
and sigh, if not shed tears, than these following.

In another place,

Some little time
before she yielded up her breath, she said, I never shall hear one sermon more on earth. She kissed her husband
some little time
before she expired, then leaned her head the pillow on, just out of breath and tired.

But the threefold appellation in the first line

must not pass unobserved. That line in the celebrated Watts,

is nothing comparable to it. The latter only mentions three qualifications of
one
person who was deceased, which therefore could raise grief and compassion but for
one.
Whereas the former, (
our most excellent poet
) gives his reader a sort of an idea of the death of
three persons,
viz.

which is
three times
as great a loss as the death of
one,
and consequently must raise
three times
as much grief and compassion in the reader.

I should be very much straitened for room, if I should attempt to discover even half the excellencies of this elegy which are obvious to me. Yet I cannot omit one observation, which is, that the author has (to his honor) invented a new species of poetry, which wants a name, and was never before known. His muse scorns to be confined to the old measures and limits, or to observe the dull rules of critics;

Now ’tis pity that such an excellent piece should not be dignified with a particular name; and seeing it cannot justly be called, either
epic, Sapphic, lyric,
or
Pindaric,
nor any other name yet invented, I presume it may, (in honor and remembrance of the dead) be called the kitelic. Thus much in the praise of
kitelic poetry.

It is certain, that those elegies which are of our own growth, (and our soil seldom produces any other sort of poetry) are by far the greatest part, wretchedly dull and ridiculous. Now since it is imagined by many, that our poets are honest, well-meaning fellows, who do their best, and that if they had but some instructions how to govern fancy with judgment, they would make indifferent good elegies; I shall here subjoin a receipt for that purpose, which was left me as a legacy, (among other valuable rarities) by my reverend husband. It is as follows,

For the title of your elegy.
Of these you may have enough ready made to your hands; but if you should choose to make it your self, you must be sure not to omit the words
aetatis suae,
which will beautify it exceedingly.

For the subject of your elegy.
Take one of your neighbors who has lately departed this life; it is no great matter at what age the party died, but it will be best if he went away suddenly, being
killed, drowned,
or
froze to death.

Having chose the person, take all his virtues, excellencies, &c. And if he have not enough, you may borrow some to make up a sufficient quantity: to these add his last words, dying expressions, &c. If they are to be had; mix all these together, and be sure you
strain
them well. Then season all with a handful or two of melancholy expressions, such as,
dreadful, deadly, cruel cold death, unhappy fate, weeping eyes,
&c. Have mixed all these ingredients well, put them into the empty scull of some
young Harvard
; (but in case you have neer a one at hand, you may use your own,) there let them ferment for the space of a fortnight, and by that time they will be incorporated into a body, which take out, and having prepared a sufficient quantity of double rhymes, such as,
power, flower; quiver, shiver; grieve us, leave us; tell you, excel you; expeditions, physicians; fatigue him, intrigue him
; &c. You must spread all upon paper, and if you can procure a scrap of Latin to put at the end, it will garnish it mightily; then having affixed your name at the bottom, with a
moestus composuit,
you will have an excellent elegy.

N.B.
This recipe will serve when a female is the subject of your elegy, provided you borrow a greater quantity of virtues, excellencies, &c. sir,

Your servant, Silence Dogood

After his brother was jailed for three weeks for criticizing the authorities, Franklin used Mrs. Dogood to attack the link between church and state that was then the very foundation of Massachusetts government. At one point she asks, “Whether a Commonwealth suffers more by hypocritical pretenders to religion or by the openly profane?” Unsurprisingly, she concludes the former is worse, and she aims a barb at the governor, Thomas Dudley, a minister who had become a politician.

S
ILENCE
D
OGOOD
# 9,
T
HE
N
EW
-
E
NGLAND
C
OURANT
, J
ULY
23, 1722

Sir,

It has been for some time a question with me, whether a commonwealth suffers more by hypocritical pretenders to religion, or by the openly profane? But some late thoughts of this nature, have inclined me to think, that the hypocrite is the most dangerous person of the two, especially if he sustains a post in the government, and we consider his conduct as it regards the public. The first artifice of a
state hypocrite
is, by a few savory expressions which cost him nothing, to betray the best men in his country into an opinion of his goodness; and if the country wherein he lives is noted for the purity of religion, he the more easily gains his end, and consequently may more justly be exposed and detested. A notoriously profane person in a private capacity, ruins himself, and perhaps forwards the destruction of a few of his equals; but a public hypocrite every day deceives his betters, and makes them the ignorant trumpeters of his supposed godliness: they take him for a saint, and pass him for one, without considering that they are (as it were) the instruments of public mischief out of conscience, and ruin their country for God’s sake.

This political description of a hypocrite, may (for ought I know) be taken for a new doctrine by some of your readers; but let them consider, that
a little religion, and a little honesty, goes a great way in courts.
’Tis not inconsistent with charity to distrust a religious man in power, though he may be a good man; he has many temptations to propagate
public destruction
for
personal advantages
and security: and if his natural temper be covetous, and his actions often contradict his pious discourse, we may with great reason conclude, that he has some other design in his religion besides barely getting to heaven. But the most dangerous hypocrite in a commonwealth, is one who
leaves the gospel for the sake of the law:
a man compounded of law and gospel, is able to cheat a whole country with his religion, and then destroy them under
color of law:
and here the clergy are in great danger of being deceived, and the people of being deceived by the clergy, until the monster arrives to such power and wealth, that he is out of the reach of both, and can oppress the people without their own blind assistance. And it is a sad observation, that when the people too late see their error, yet the clergy still persist in their encomiums on the hypocrite; and when he happens to die
for the good of his country,
without leaving behind him the memory of
one good action,
he shall be sure to have his funeral sermon stuffed with
pious expressions
which he dropt at such a time, and at such a place, and on such an occasion; than which nothing can be more prejudicial to the interest of religion, nor indeed to the memory of the person deceased. The reason of this blindness in the clergy is, because they are honorably supported (as they ought to be) by their people, and see nor feel nothing of the oppression which is obvious and burdensome to every one else.

But this subject raises in me an indignation not to be born; and if we have had, or are like to have any instances of this nature in New England, we cannot better manifest our love to religion and the country, than by setting the deceivers in a true light, and undeceiving the deceived, however such discoveries may be represented by the ignorant or designing enemies of our peace and safety.

I shall conclude with a paragraph or two from an ingenious political writer in the
London Journal,
the better to convince your readers, that public destruction may be easily carried on by
hypocritical pretenders to religion.

A raging passion for immoderate gain had made men universally and intensely hard-hearted: they were every where devouring one another. And yet the directors and their accomplices, who were the acting instruments of all this outrageous madness and mischief, set up for wonderful pious persons, while they were defying almighty god, and plundering men; and they set apart a fund of subscriptions for charitable uses; that is, they mercilessly made a whole people beggars, and charitably supported a few
necessitous
and
worthless
favorites. I doubt not, but if the villainy had gone on with success, they would have had their names handed down to posterity with encomiums; as the names of other
public robbers
have been! We have
historians
and ode makers now living, very proper for such a task. It is certain, that most people did, at one time, believe the
directors
to be
great and worthy persons.
And an honest country clergyman told me last summer, upon the road, that sir john was an excellent public-spirited person, for that he had beautified his chancel.

Upon the whole we must not judge of one another by their best actions; since the worst men do some good, and all men make fine professions: but we must judge of men by the whole of their conduct, and the effects of it. Thorough honesty requires great and long proof, since many a man, long thought honest, has at length proved a knave. And it is from judging without proof, or false proof, that mankind continue unhappy. I am, sir, Your humble Servant,

Silence Dogood