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New England Courant
New England Courant

Silence Dogood

Here are letters from Silence Dogood, printed in the New England Courant. For more information about the fictitious Silence Dogood, read our Silence Dogood section of the backgrounder to the Courant.


Issue 35

To the Author of the New-England Courant.

SIR,

It may not be improper in the first Place to inform your Readers, that I intend once a Fortnight to Present them, by the Help of this Paper, with a short Epistle, which I presume will add somewhat to their Enterainment. And since it is observed, that the Generality of People, now a days, are unwilling either to commend or dispraise what they read, until they are in some measure informed who or what the Author of it is, whether he be poor or rich, old or young, a Schollar or a Leather Apron Man, &c, and give their Opinion of the Performance, according to the knowledge which they have of the Author's Circumstances, it may not be amiss to begin with a short Account of my past Life and present Condition, that the Reader may not be at a Loss to judge whether or no my Lucubrations are worth his reading.

At the time of my birth, my Parents were Ship board in their Way from London to N. England. My Entrance into this troublesome World was attended with the Death of my Father, a Misfortune, which tho' I was not then capable of knowing, shall never be able to forget; for as he, poor Man, stood upon the Deck rejoycing at my Birth, a merciless Wave entered the Ship, and in one Moment carry'd him beyond Reprieve. Thus was the first Day which I saw, the last that was seen by my Father; and thus was my disconsolate Mother at once made both a Parent and a Widow.

When we arrived at Boston (which was not long after) I was put to Nurse in a Country Place, at a small Distrance from the Town, where I went to School, and past my infancy and Childhood in Vanity and Idleness, until I was bound out Apprentice, that I might no longer be a Charge to my Indigent Mother, who was put to hard shifts for a Living.

My Master was a Country Minister, a pious good-natur'd young Man, & a Batchelor: He labour'd with all his Might to instill vertuous and godly Principles into my tender Soul, well knowing that it was the most suitable Time to make deep and lasting Impressions on the Mind, while it was yet untainted with Vice, free and unbiass'd. He endeavour'd that I might be instructed in all that Knowledge and Learning which is necessary for our Sex, and deny'd me no Accomplishment that could Posssibly be attained in a Country Place; such as all Sorts of Needle-Work, Writing, Arithmetick, &c. and observing that I took a more than ordinary Delight in reading ingenious Books, he gave me the free Use of his Library, which tho' it was but small, yet it was well chose, to inform the Understanding, rightly, and enable the Mind to frame great and noble Ideas.

Before I had liv'd quite two Years with this Reverend Gentleman, my indulgent Mother departed this Life, leaving me as it were by my self, having no Relation on Earth within my Knowledge.

I will not abuse your Patience with a tedious Recital of all the frivolous Accidents of my Life, that happened from this Time until I arrived to Years of Discretion, only inform you that I liv'd a cheerful Country Life, spending my leisure Time either in some innocent Diversion with the neighboring Females, or in some shady Retirement, with the best of Company, books. Thus I past away the Time with a Mixture of Profit and Pleasure, having no Affliction but what was imaginary, and created in my own Fancy; as nothing, when we have nothing else to grieve for. As I would not engross too much of your Paper at once, I will defer the Remainer of my Story until my next Letter; in the mean time desiring your Readers to exercise their Patience, and bear with my Humours now and then, because I shall trouble them but seldom. I am not insensible of the impossibility of pleasing all, but I would not willingly displease any; and for those who will take Offence where none is intended, they are beneath the Notice of
Your Humble Servant,
SILENCE DOGOOD.


Issue 37

To the Author of the New-England Courant.

SIR, [ No 2,

HISTORIES of Lives are seldom entertaining, unless they contain something of this Nature in my own Adventures, I will not tire your Readers with tedious Particulars of no Consequence, but will briefly, and in as few Words as possible, relate the most material Occurrences of my Life, and according to my Promise, confine all to this Letter.

MY Reverend Matter who had hitherto remained a Batchelor, (after much Meditation on the Eighteenth verse of the Second Charter [Illegible] Genests,) took up a Resolution to marry; and having made several unsuccessful fruitless Attempts on the more topping Sort of our Sex, and being tir'd with making troublesome Journeys and Visits to no Purpose, he began unexpect edly to cast a loving Eye upon Me, whom he had brought up cleverly to his Hand.

THERE is certainly scarce any Part of a Man's Life in which he appear more silly and ridiculous, than when he makes his first Onset in Courtship. The aukward Manner in which my Matter first discover'd his Intentious, made me, in spite of my Reverence to his Person, burst out into an unmannerly Laughter: However, having ask'd his Pardon, and with much ado compos'd my Countenance, I Promis'd him I would take his Proposal into serious Consideration, and speedily give him an Answer.

AS he had been a great Benefactor (and in a Manner a Father to me) I could not well deny his Request, when I once perceived he was in earnest. Whether it was Love, or Gratitude, or Pride, or all Three that Made me consent, I Know not; but it is certain, he found it no hard Matter, by the Help of his Rhetorick, to conquer my Heart, and perswade me to marry him.

This unexpected Matched was very astonishing to all the Country round about, and served to furnish the them with Discourse for a long Time after; some approving it, others disliking it, as they were led by their various Fancies and Inclinations.

WE lived happily together in the Heighth of conjugal Love and Mutual Endearments, for near Seven Years, in which Time weadded Two likely Girls and a Boy to the Family of the Dogoods: But alas! When my Sun was in its meridian Altitude, inexorable unrelenting Death, As if he had eny'd my Happiness and Tranquility, and resolv'd to make me entirely miserable by the Loss of so good an Husband, hastened his Flight to the Heavenly World, by a sudden uexpected Departure from this.

I HAVE now remained in a State of Widowhood for several Years, but it is a State I never much admir'd, and I am apt to fancy that I could be easily perswarded to marry again, provided I was sure of a good-hummoue'd, sober, agreeable Companion: But one, even with there few good Qualities, being hard to find I have lately relinquish'd all Thoughts of that Nature.

At present I pass away my leisure Hours in Conversation, either with my honest Neighbor Rustious: and his Family, or with the ingenious Minister of our Town, who now lodges at my House, and by whose Assistance I intend now and then to beautify my Writings with a Sentence or two in the learned Languages, which will not only be fashionable, and pleasing to those who do not understand it, but will likewise be very ornamental.

I Shall conclude this with my own Character, which (one would think) I should be best able to give. Know then, That I am an Enemy to Vice, and a Friend to Vertue. I am one of an extensive Charity, and a great Forgiver of private Injuries: A hearty Lover of the Clergy and all good Men, and a mortal Enemy to arbitrary Goverment & unlimited Power. I am natural very Jealous for the Rights and Liberties of my Country; & the least appearence of an Incroachment on those invaluable Priviledges, is apt to make mmy Blood boil exceedingly. I have likewise a natural Inclination to observe and reprove the Faults of others, at which I have an excellent Faculty. I speak this by Way of Warning to all such whose Offences shall come under my Cognizance, for I never intend to wrap my Talent in a Napkin. To brief; I am coureous and affable, good-humour'd (unless I am first provok'd) and handsome, and some times witty, but always,

SIR,
Your Friend, and
Humble Servant,
SILENCE DOGOOD.


Issue 39

To The Author of the New-England Courant.
SIR,
It is undoubtedly the Duty of all Persons to serve the Country they live in, according to their Abilities; yet I sincerely acknowledge, that I have hiherto been very deficient in this Particular ; whether it was for want of will or Opportunity, I will not at present stand to determine: Let it suffice, that I now take up a Resolution, to do for the future all that lies in my Way for the Service of my Countrymen.

I HAVE from my Youth been insatigatigably studious to gain and treasure up in my Mind all useful and desiteable Knowledge, especially such as tends to improve the Mind, and enlarge the Understanding:And as I have found it very beneficial to me, I am not without Hopes, that communicating my small Stock in this Manner, by Peace-meal to the Publick, may be at least in some Measure useful.

I AM very sensible that it is impossible for me, or indeed any one Writer to please all Readers at once, Various Persons have different Sentiments; and that which is pleasant and delightful to one, gives another a Disgust. He that would (in this Way of Writing) please all, is under a Necessity to make his Themes almost as numerous as his Letters. He must one while be marty and diverting, then more solid and serious; one while sharp and satyrical, then ( to mollify that) be sober and religious; at one Time let the Subject be Polliticks, then let the next Theme be Love: Thus will every one, one Time or other find some thing agreeable to his own Fancy, and in his Turn be delighted.

ACCORDING to this Method I intend to proceed, bestowing now and then a few gentle Reproofs on those who deserve them, not forgetting at the same time to applaud those whose Actions merit Commenation. And here I must not forget to invite the ingenious Part of your Readers, Particularly those of my own Sex to enter into a Correspondence with me, assuring them, that their Condescension in this Particular shall be received as a Favour, and according acknowledged.

I THINK I have now finish'd the Foundation, and I intend in my next to begin to raise the Building. Having nothing more to write at Present, I must make the usual excuse in such Cafes, of being in hastle, assuring you that I speak from my Heart when I call my self, The most humble and obedient of all the Servants your Merits have acquir'd,
SILENCE DOGOOD.

* Those who incline to favour Mrs. Dogood with their Correspondence, are defir'd to send their letters (directed to her) to the Publisher of this Paper.


Issue 41

To the Author of the New-England Courant.

SIR,
DISCOURSING the other Day at Dinner with my Reverend Boarder. formerly mentioed'd, (whom for Distinction sake we will call by the Name of Clericus,) concerning the Education of Children, I ask'd his Advice about my young Son William, whether or no I had best bestow up-on him Academical Learning or (as our Phase is) bring him up at our College: He perfwaded me to do it by all Means, using many weighty Arguments with me, and answering all the Objections that he did not doubt but it; telling me withal, that he did not doubt but that the Lad would take his Leaning very well, and hot idle away his Time as too many there now-a-days do. There Words of Clericus gave me a Curiosity to inquire a little more strictly into the present Circumitances [Illegible sentence] but the Information which he gave me, was neither pleasent, nor such as I expected.

As soon as Dinner was over, I took a solitary Walk into my Orchard, still ruminating on clericui's Discourse with much Consideration, until I came to my useful Place of Retirement under the Great Apple-Tree; where having seated my seated my self, and carelessly laid my Head on a verdant Bank, I fell by Degress into a soft and undisturbed Slummer. My waking Thoughts remained with me in my Sleep, and before I awak'd again, I dreamt the following DREAM.

I FANCY'D I was travelling over pleasent and delightful Fields and Meadows, and thro' many small Country Towns and Villages; and as I pass'd along , all Places refounded with the Fame of the Temple of LEARNING: Every Present, who had wherewithal, was preparing to send one of his Children at least to this famous Place; and in this Cafe most of them consulted their own Purses instead of their Childrens Capacities: So that I observed, a great many, yea, the most part of those who were travelling thither thither, were little better than Dunces and Blockheads. Alas! alas!

At length I entered upon a Spacious Plan, in the Midst of which was erected a large and stately Edisice: It was to this that a great Company of Youths from all Parts of the Country were going; so Stepping in among the Crowd, I passed on with them, and presently arrived at the Gate.

THE Passage was kept by two sturdy Porters named Riches and Poverty, and the latter obstinately refused to give Entrance to any who had not first gain'd the Favour of the former; so that I observed, many who came even to the very Gate, were obliged to travel back again as ignorant as they came, for want of this necessary Qualification. However as a Spectator I gain'd Admittance, and with the rest entred directly into the Temple.

IN the Middle of the great Hall stood a stately

 

and Magnificant Throne, which was ascnded to by two high and different Steps. On the Top of it fat LEARNING in awful State; she was apparelled wholly in Black, and surrounded almost on every Side with innumerable Volumes in all Languages. She seem'd very busily employ'd in writing something on half a sheet of Paper, and upon Enquity, I understood she was preparing a Paper, call'd, The New-England Courant. On her Right Hand sat English, with a Plearant smiling Countenance, and handsomely attir'd; and on her left were seated several Antique Figures with their Faces vail'd. I was confiderably puzzl'd to guess who they were, until one informed me, (who stood beside me,) that those Figures on her left Hand were Latin; Greek, Hebrew, &c. and that they were very much reserv'd, and seldom or never unvarl'd their Faces here, and then to few or none, tho' most of those who have in this Place acquir'd so much Learning as to distingush them from English, pretended to an inimate Acquaintance with them. I then enquir'd of him, what could be the Reason why they continued Vail'd, in this Place especially: He pointed to the Foot of the Throne, where I saw Idleness, attended with Ignorance, and there ( he informed me) were they, who first vail'd them, and still kept them so.

NOW I observed, that the whole Tribe who en-[Illegible sentence] began to climb the Throne; but the Work Proving troublesome and different to most of them, they Withdrew their Hannds from the Plow, and contented themselves to fit at the Foot, with Madam Idleness and her Maid Ignorance, until those who were assisted by Diligence and a docible Temper, had well nigh got up the first step: But the Time drawing nigh in which they could no way avoid ascending, they were sain to crave the Assistance of those who had got up before them, and whho, for the Reward perhaps of a Pint of Milk, or a Piece of Plumb-Cake, lent the Lubbers a helping Hand, and fat them in the Eye of The World upon a Level with themselves.

THE other Step being in the same Manner a scended, the usual Ceremonies at an End, every Beetle-scull seem'd well satisfy'd with his own Portion of Learning, Tho' perhaps he was e'en just as ignorant as ever. And Now The Time of their Departure being come, they march'd out of Doors to make Room for another Company, who waited for Entrance: And I, having seen all that was to be seen, quitted the Hall likewise, and went to make my Observations on those who were just gone out before me.

SOME I perceiv'd took to Merchandizing, others to Traveing. Some to one Thing, some to another, and some to Nothing: and Many Of them from henceforth, for want of Pattimony, Liv'd as poor as Church Mice, being unable to dig, and asham'd to beg, and to live by their Witts it was impossilble. But the most Part of the Crowd went along a large beaten Path, which led to a Temple at the further End of the Plain, call'd. The Temple of Theology. The Business of those who were employ'd in this Temple being labourious painful, I wonder'd exceedingly to see so many go towards it; but while I was pondering this Matter in my Mind, I spy'd Pecura behind a Curtain, beckoning to them with her Hand, which Sight immediately satisfy'd me for whose Sake it was, that a great Part them (I will not say all) travel'd that Road. In this This I say nothing wprth mentioning, except the ambitious and Fraudulent Contrivances of Plagius; who (notwithstanding he had been severely reprehended for such Practices before) was, diligently: transcribing some eloguent Paragraphs our of Tillotson's Works &c. to embellish his own.

NOW I bethought my self in my Sleep that it was Time to be at Home, and as I fancy'd I was travelling back thither, I reslected in my Mind on the extream Folly of those parents, who, blind to their Childrens Dulness, and insenible of the Solity of their Skulls, because they think their Purses can afford it, will needs send them to the Temple of Learning, where, for want of a suitable Genius, they learn little more than how to carry themselves handsomely, amd enter a Room genteely, ( which might as well be acquir'd at a Dancing-School,) and from whence they retur, after Abundance of Trouble and Charge as great Blockheads as ever, only more proud and self conceited.

WHILE I was in the midst of there unpleasant Reslection, Clericus ( Who with a Book in his Hand was walking under the Tree) accidentally awak'd me; to him I related my Dream with all its presently interpreted it, assuring me, That it was a lively Representation of HARVARD COLLEGE, Etcetera.
I remain, Sir,
Your Humble Servant,
SILENCE DOGOOD.


Issue 43

To the Author of the New-England Courant.

SIR,
I SHALL here Present your Readers with a Letter from one, who informs me that I have begun at the wrong End of my business, and that I ought to begin at begin at Home, and censure the Vices and Follies of my own Sex, before I venture to meddle with your's: Neverthless, I am resolved to declare this Speculation to the Fair Tribe, and endeavour to show, that Mr. Ephraim charges Women with being particularly guilty of Pride, Idleness,&c. wrongfully, inasmuch as the Men have not only as great a Share in those Vice as the Women, but are likewise in a great a Share in those Vice as the Women, but are likewise in a great Measure the Cause of that which the Women are guilty of. I think it will be best to produce my Antagonist, before I encounter him.

To Mrs. DOGOOD


Madam, My Design in troubling you with this Letter is, to de'fire you would begin with your own Sex first: Let the 'first Volley of your Resentments be directed against Female Vice; let Female Idleness, Ignorance and Folly, (which 'are Vices more peculiar to your Sex than to our's, ) be the Subject of your Satyrs, but more especially Female 'Pride, which I think is intollerable. Here is a large Field 'that wants Cultivation, and which I believe you are able '(if willing) to improve with Advantage; and when you have once reformed the Women, you will find it a much 'easier Tasker to reform the Men, because Women are the 'prime Causes of a great many Male Enormities. This 'is all at present from
Your Friendly Wellwisher.
Ephraim Cesorious.

After Thanks to My Correspondent for his kindness in cutting out Work for me, I must assure him, that I find it a very different Matter to reprove Women separate from The Men: for what Vice is there in which the Men have they not a far greater, as a in Drunkenness, Swearing, &c. And if they have, then it follows, that when a Vice is to be reproved, Men who are most cupable, deserve the most Reprehension, and certainly therefore, ought to have it. But we will wave this Point at present, and proceed to a particular Confideration of what my Correspondent calls

Female Vice.
As for Idleness, if should Quaere, Where are the greatest Number of its Votaries to be found, with us or the Men? it might I believe be easily and truly answer'd, With the latter. For notwithstanding the Men are commonly complaining how hard they are forc'd to labour, only to Maintain their Wifes in Pomp and Idleness, yet if you go among the Women, you will learn, that they have always more Work upon their Hands than they are able to do; and that a Woman's Work is never done, &c. But however, Suppose we should grant for once, that we are generally more idle than the Men, ( without making any Allowance for the Weakness of the Sex,) I desire to know whose Fault it is? Are not the Men to blame for their Folly in main taining us in Idleness? Who is there that can be handsomely supported in Assuence, Ease and Pleasure by another, that will chuse rather to earn his Bread by the Sweat of his own Brows? And if a Man will be so food and so For Fish, as to labour hard himself for a Livelihood, and Suffer his Wise in the mean Time to fit in Ease and Idleness, let him not blame her if she does so, for it is in a great Measure his own Fault.

And now for the Ignorance and Folly which he reproaches us with, let us see ( if we are Fools and Ignoramus's Writer, having this subject in Hand, has the following Words, wherein he lays the Fault wholly on the Men, for not allowing Women the Advantages of Education.

I have (says he) often Thought of it as one of the most barbarous Customs in the World, considering us as a civiliz'd and Christian Country, that we deny the Advantages of Learning to Women. We reproach the Sex every Day with Folly and Impertinence, while I am confident, had they the Advantages of Education equal to us, they would be guilty of less than our selves. One would wonder indeed how it should happen that Women are conversible at all, since they are only beholding to natural Parts for all their Knowledge. Their Youth is spent to teach them to stitch and sow, or make Baubles: They are taught to read indeed, and perhaps to write their Names, or so and that is the Heigth of a Womans Education. And I would but ask any who 1light the Sex for their Understanding, What is a Man (a Gentleman, I mean) good for that is taught no more? If knowledge and Understanding had been useless Additions to the Sex God Almighty would never have given them Capacities, for he made nothing Needless. What has the Woman done top forfeit the Priledge of being taught? Does she plague us with her Pride and Impertinence? Why did we not let her learn, that she might have had more Wit? Shall we upbraid Women with Folly, when 'tis only the Error of this inhumane Custom that hindred them being made wiser.

So much for Female Ignorance and Folly, and now let us a little consider the Pride which my Correspondent thinks is intollerable. By this Expression of his, one would think he is some dejected Swain, Tyanniz'd over by some cruel haughty Nymph, who (perhaps he thinks) has no more Reason to be proud than himself. Alas-a-day! What shall we say in this Cafe! Why truly, if Women are proud, it is certainly owing to the Men still; for if they will be such Simpletons as to humble themselves at their Feet, and fill their credulous Ears with extravagant Praises of their Wilt, Beauty, and other Accomplishments (perhaps where there are none too,) and when Women by this Means perswaded that they are Something more than humane, What Wonder is it, if they carry themselves haughtily, and live extravagantly. Notwithstanding, I believe there are more Instances of extravagent Pride to be found among Men than among Women, and this Fault is certainly more halnous in the former than in the latter.

Upon the whole, I conclude, that it will be impossible to last any Vice, of which the Men are not equally guilty with the Women, and consequently deserve an equal if not a greater ) Share in the Censure. However I exhort both to amend, where both are culpable, otherwise they may expect to be severly handled by Sir,

Your Humble Servant.
SILENCE DOGOOD

N.B. Mrs. Dogood has lately left her Seat in the Country, and come to Boston, where she intends to tarry for the Summer Season, in order to compleat her Observations of the present resigning Vices of the Town.


Issue 47

To the Author of the New-England Courant.

Sir,
It has been the Complaint of many Ingenious Foreigners, who have travell'd amongst us, That good Poetry is not to be expected in New-England. I am apt to Fancy, the Reason is, not because our Countreymen are altogether void of a Poetical Genius, nor yet bacause 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 produc'd 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 endeavour to diseover to the World some of its Beautys, in order to encourage the Author to go on, and bless the World with more, and Excellent Productions.

THERE has lately appear'd among us a most Excellent Piece of Poetry, entituled, An Elegy upon the much Lamented Death of Mrs. Mehitebell Kitel, Wife of Mr. John Kitel of Salem, E.c. . It may justly be said in its Praise, without Flattery to the Author, that it is the most Extaordinary Piece that ever was wrote in New-England. The Language is so soft and Easy, the Expression so moving and pathetick, but above all, the Verse and Numbers so Charming and Natural, that it is almost beyond Camparison.

* The Muse disdains
These Links and Chains,
Measures and Rules of vaulgar Strains, (reigns.
And o'er the Laws of Harmony a Sovereign Queen she

I FIND no English Author, Ancient or Modern, whose Elegies may compar'd with this, in respect to the Elegance of Stile, or Smoothness of Rhime; 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.

Come let us mourn, for we have loft a Wife, a Daughter, and a Sister, Who has lately taken Flight, and greatly we have mist her.

In another Place.
Some little Time before she yielded up her Breath,
She said, I n'er fhall hear one Sermon more on Earth.
* Watts.

She kiss her Husband some little Time before she extir'd,
Then lean'd her Head the Pillow on just out of Breath and tir'd.

BUT the Threefold Appellation in the first Line -------- a Wife, a Daughter, and a Sister, must not pass unobserved. That Line in the celebrated Watts, GUNSTON the Fust, the Generous, and the Young, is nothing Comparable to it. The latter only mentions three Qualifications of one Perfon 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. -------- a Wife, a Daughter, and a Sister, 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 straitned 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 scorus to be confin'd to the old Measures and Limits, or to observe the dull Rules of Criticks; Nor Rapin gives her Rules to fly, nor Purcell Notes to Sing. Watts.

NOW 'tis Pity that such an Excellent Piece should not be dignify'd with a particular Name; and seeing it cannot justly be called, either Epic, Sapplio, Lyric, or Pindaric, not ant other Name yet invented, I presume it may, (in Honour 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 out Soil seldom produces any other sort of Poetry) are by far the greatest part, wretchedly Dull and Ridiculous. Now since it is imagin'd 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 Judgement, 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,

A RECEIPT to make a New-England Funeral ELEGY.

For the title of your Elegy. Of these you may have enough ready made to your Hands, but if should chose to make it your self, you must be sure not to omit the Words (Illegible) Sure, which will Beautify it exceedingly.

For the Subject of your Elegy. Take one of your Neighbours who has lately departed this life; it is no great matter at what Age the Party dy'd, but it will be best if he went away suld only, being Kill'd, Drown'd, or Froze to Death.

Having those the Person, take all Instuctions, Excellencies 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 those together, and before you strain them well. Then season all with a Handful or two of Melancolly 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 ne'er 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 baying prepared a sufficient Quantity of double Rhimes, 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 Composult, you will have an Excellent Elegy.

N.B. This Receipt 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.


Issue 49

To the Author of the New-England Courant.

SIR, No. VIII.

I prefer the following Abstract from the London Journal to any Thing of my own, and therefore shall present it to your Readers this week without any further Preface.

WITHOUT Freedom of Thought, the can be no such Thing as Wisdom; and no such Thing as publick Liberty, without Freedom of Speech; which is the Right of every Man, as far as by it, he does not hurt or control the Right of another. And this is the only Check it ought to suffer, and the only bounds it ought to know.

This sacred Privilege is to essential to free Governments, that the Security of Property, and the Freedom of Speech always go together; and in those wretched Countries where a Man cannot call his Tongue his own, he can scarce call any Thing else his own. Whoever would overthrow the Liberty of a Nation, must begin by subduing the Fteeness of Speech; a Thing terrible to Publick Traytors.

This Secret was so well known to the Court of King Charles the First, that his wicked Ministry procured a Proclamation, to forbid the People to talk of Parliaments, which those Traytors had laid aside. To assert thee undoubted Right of the Subject, and defend his Majesty's legal Prerogative, was called Disaffecton, and punished as Sedition. Nay, People were forbid to talk of Religion in their Families. For the Priest had combined with the Ministers to cook up Tyranny, and Tuppress Truth and the Law, while the late King James, when Duke of York, went avowedly to Mass, Men were fined, imprisoned and undone, for saying he was a Papist: And that King Charles the Second might live more securely a Papist, there was an Act of Parliament made, declaring it Treason to say that he was one.

That Men ought to speak well of their Governours is true, while their Governours, deserve to be well spoken of, but to do publick Mischief, without hearing of it , is only the Prerogative and Felicity of Tyranny: A free People will be shewing that they are so, by their Freedom of Speech.

The Administration of Government, is nothing else but the Attendence of the Trustees of the People upon the Interest and Affairs of the People: And as it is the Part and Business of the People, for whole Sake alone all publick Matters are, or ought to be transacted, to see whether they be well or ill transacted, so it is the Interest, and ought to be the Ambition, of all honest Magistrates, to have their Deeds openly examined, and Publickly scann'd: Only the wicked Governours of Men dread what is said of them; Audivit Tiberis probra queis lacerabitur, atque perculsus est. The publick Censure was true, else he had not felt it bitter.

Freedom of Speech is ever the Symptom, as well as the Effect of a good Government. In old Rome, all was left to the Judgment and Pleasure of the People, who examined the publick Proceedings with such Discretion, & censured those who administred them with such Equity and Mildness, that in the space of Three Hundred Years, not five publick Ministers suffered unjustly. Indeed whenever the Commons proceeded to Violence, the great Ones had been the Agressors.

GUILT only dreads Liberty of Speech, which drags it out of its lurking Holes, and exposes its Deformity and Horrour to Day-light. Horatius, Valerius, Cincinnatus, and other vertuous and undesigning Magistrates of the Roman Commonwealth, had nothing to fear from Liberty of Speech. Their virtuous Administration, the more it was examin'd, the more it brightened and gain'd by Enquiry. When Valerius in particular, was accused upon some flight grounds of affecting the Diadem; he, who was the first Minister of Rome, does not accuse the People for examining his Conduct, but approved his Innocence in a Speech to them; and gave such Satisfaction to them, and gained such Popularitty to himself, that they gave him a new Name; inde cognomen factumi Publicola [illegible], to denote that he was their Favourite and their Friend-----Late deinde leges----Ante omnes de provocatoine ADVERSUS MAGISTRATUST AD POPULUM, Livii, lib. z. Cap. 8.

But things afterwards took another Turn. Rome with the Loss of its Liberty, lost also its Freedom of Speech; then Mens Words began to be feared and watched; and then first began the poysonous Race of Informers, banished indeed under the righteous Administration of Titus, Narrva, Trajan, Aurelius, & c. but encouraged and enriched under the vile Ministry of Sejanus, Tigillinis, Pallas, and Cleander; Queri libet, quod in secreta, nostra non inquirant principes, nist quos Odimus, says Pliny to Trajan.

The best Princes have ever encouraged and Promoted Freedom of Speech; they know that upright Measures would defend themselves, and that all upright Men would defend them. Tacitus, speaking of the Reign of some of the Princes above mention'd says with Extasy, Rara Temporum felicitate, ubi sentire qua velis, & qua sentias dicere lices: A blessed Time when you might think what you would, and speak what you thought.

I doubt not but old Spencer and his Son, who were the Chief Ministers and Betryers of Edward the Second, would have been very glad to have stopped the Mouths of all the honest Men in England. They dreaded to be called Traytors, because they were Traytors. I dare say, Queen Elizabeth's Walsingham, who deserved no Reproaches, feared none. Misrepressentation of publick Measures is easily overthrown, by representing publick Measures truly; when they are honest, they ought to be publickly known, that they may be publickly commended, but if they are knavish or pernicious, they ought to be publickly exposed, in order to be pubickly detested.

Yours, &c,

SILENCE DOGOOD.


Issue 51

To the Author of the New-England Courant.

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 Publick. The first Artifice of a State Hypocrite is, by a few savoury Expessions 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 expos'd snd detested. A notoriously profane Person in a private Capacity, ruins himself, and perhaps forwards the Destruction of a few of his Equals; but a publick 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 publick Mischief out of Conscince, and ruin their Country for God's sake.

THIS Political Descripition 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, tho' he may be a good Man; he has many Temptations "to propagate publick 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 Common-Wealth, is one who leaves the Gospel for the sake of Law: A Man compounded of Law and Gospel, is able to cheat a whole Country with his Religion, and then destroy them under Colour of Law: and here the Clergy are in great Danger of being deceiv'd, and the People of being deceiv'd 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 will be sure to have his Funeral-Sermon stuff'd with Pious Expressions which he dropt ar such a Time, and at such a Place, and on such an Occasion; than which nothing can more prejudicial to the Interest of Religion, nor indeed to the Memory of the Person deceas'd, 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 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 Enimies of our Peace and Safety.

I than conclude with a Paragraph or two from an ingenious Political Wrter in the London Journal, the better to Convince your Readers, that Publick Destruction may be easily carry'd 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 Maddnessand Mischief, set up for wonderful pious Persons, while they are defying Almighty God, and plundering Men; and they set apart a Fund of Subscriptions for charitable Use; that is, they (Illigible) made a whole People Beggars, and charitably supported a few necessitous and worthless FAVORITES. I doubt not, but if the Villany had gone on with Success, they would have had their Names handed down to Posterity with Encomiums as the Names of other publick Robbers have been! We have Historians and ODE MAKERS now living , very proper for such a task. It is most certain that most People did, at one Time, believe the Directors to be great and worthy Pesons, And an honest Country Clergyman told me last Summer, upon the Road, that Sir John was an excellent publick-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 of 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 though 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

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