Part 64 (1/2)

I lament with you most sincerely the unfortunate end of poor MUNGO. Few squirrels were better accomplished; for he had had a good education, had travelled far, and seen much of the world. As he had the honour of being, for his virtues, your favourite, he should not go, like common skuggs, without an elegy or an epitaph. Let us give him one in the monumental style and measure, which, being neither prose nor verse, is perhaps the properest for grief; since to use common language would look as if we were not affected, and to make rhymes would seem trifling in sorrow.

EPITAPH.

Alas! poor MUNGO!

Happy wert thou, hadst thou known Thy own felicity.

Remote from the fierce bald eagle, Tyrant of thy native woods, Thou hadst nought to fear from his piercing talons, Nor from the murdering gun Of the thoughtless sportsman.

Safe in thy wired castle, GRIMALKIN never could annoy thee.

Daily wert thou fed with the choicest viands, By the fair hand of an indulgent mistress; But, discontented, Thou wouldst have more freedom.

Too soon, alas! didst thou obtain it; And wandering, Thou art fallen by the fangs of wanton, cruel RANGER!

Learn hence, Ye who blindly seek more liberty, Whether subjects, sons, squirrels or daughters, That apparent restraint may be real protection; Yielding peace and plenty With security.

You see, my dear Miss, how much more decent and proper this broken style is, than if we were to say, by way of epitaph,

Here SKUGG Lies snug, As a bug In a rug.

and yet, perhaps, there are people in the world of so little feeling as to think that this would be a good-enough epitaph for poor Mungo.

If you wish it, I shall procure another to succeed him; but perhaps you will now choose some other amus.e.m.e.nt.

Remember me affectionately to all the good family, and believe me ever,

Your affectionate friend, B. FRANKLIN.

TO PETER FRANKLIN

[No date.][79]

DEAR BROTHER,

I like your ballad, and think it well adapted for your purpose of discountenancing expensive foppery, and encouraging industry and frugality. If you can get it generally sung in your country, it may probably have a good deal of the effect you hope and expect from it. But as you aimed at making it general, I wonder you chose so uncommon a measure in poetry, that none of the tunes in common use will suit it.

Had you fitted it to an old one, well known, it must have spread much faster than I doubt it will do from the best new tune we can get compos'd for it. I think too, that if you had given it to some country girl in the heart of the _Ma.s.sachusetts_, who has never heard any other than psalm tunes, or _Chevy Chace_, the _Children in the Wood_, the _Spanish Lady_, and such old simple ditties, but has naturally a good ear, she might more probably have made a pleasing popular tune for you, than any of our masters here, and more proper for your purpose, which would best be answered, if every word could as it is sung be understood by all that hear it, and if the emphasis you intend for particular words could be given by the singer as well as by the reader; much of the force and impression of the song depending on those circ.u.mstances. I will however get it as well done for you as I can.

Do not imagine that I mean to depreciate the skill of our composers of music here; they are admirable at pleasing _practised_ ears, and know how to delight _one another_; but, in composing for songs, the reigning taste seems to be quite out of nature, or rather the reverse of nature, and yet like a torrent, hurries them all away with it; one or two perhaps only excepted.

You, in the spirit of some ancient legislators, would influence the manners of your country by the united powers of poetry and music. By what I can learn of _their_ songs, the music was simple, conformed itself to the usual p.r.o.nunciation of words, as to measure, cadence or emphasis, &c., never disguised and confounded the language by making a long syllable short, or a short one long, when sung; their singing was only a more pleasing, because a melodious manner of speaking; it was capable of all the graces of prose oratory, while it added the pleasure of harmony. A modern song, on the contrary, neglects all the proprieties and beauties of common speech, and in their place introduces its _defects_ and _absurdities_ as so many graces. I am afraid you will hardly take my word for this, and therefore I must endeavour to support it by proof. Here is the first song I lay my hand on. It happens to be a composition of one of our greatest masters, the ever-famous _Handel_. It is not one of his juvenile performances, before his taste could be improved and formed: It appeared when his reputation was at the highest, is greatly admired by all his admirers, and is really excellent in its kind. It is called, ”_The additional_ Favourite _Song in_ Judas Maccabeus.” Now I reckon among the defects and improprieties of common speech, the following, viz.

1. _Wrong placing the accent or emphasis_, by laying it on words of no importance, or on wrong syllables.

2. _Drawling_; or extending the sound of words or syllables beyond their natural length.

3. _Stuttering_; or making many syllables of one.

4. _Unintelligibleness_; the result of the three foregoing united.