May 6th. 1755 Assist me Clio when to write I Summons my Poetic Wit; I'd write in Prose had I my choice But since the World is rul'd by Noise We ought to gain their Ears good Will Or else their hearts the Truth won't feell. Besides if once their Ears we tickle Their Judgments so confounded fickle Theyll pass their plaudit say tis pretty Tho' Nonsense Stupid forms the Ditty, Besides cramp Meter some things chose And some go best in lengthy Prose. Many more Reasons might be given If to my Trumps I should be driven. These for the present may Suffice To Satiate those who ope their Eyes. Hail Doggrell Rhyme Verse Hudibrastick Inflame my Spirits now I ask it. Make my thoughts equall to my Story Deep Meaning Words express its Glory. How shall I pattern you my father How criticize, describe, or rather How 'ere explore a fam'd Dog's Riddle As once you Sung the Bear & Fiddle. There Liv'd a Dog as Authors tell it The Story's long and what befell it At first tho idle it may Seem Believe me Truth it is no Dream. How he got in this World we don't learn Of Cerberus some thought him a Spawn But this was Envy for his good Fate Sent him just wn. he should be made Great. 261 At the same Time there liv'd a Poet Fam'd for Predictions, his Writing Shows it. Poets they Say boast Gods their Father And from their Power their Wits do gather. This gives 'em Skill so very pointed To Spy great Vertues, Where they are hid. More Sence they hear in certain Dogs Yell Than others learn in Matchiavel. Our Heroe's fortune in his Youth Was much unsettled for in Truth His Powers unknown, no one, good Will Would give him biding for his Skill. At last to fix some steady living To tend a Doctor he was driven, Agreed what short of Boarding this come He would make up in Album Graecum.1 Thus our fam'd Heroes younger days, Seem'd little promising the Praise Which ripening Years heap'd on his head, Persued him close till he was Dead; The Dog liv'd on, would bark at Fowls Once in while at Hoggs would Growl. This gaind him the good Will of Servants To Servent his master he was fervent Great Souls they say mind Fortunes Will Obey their Fate be it good or Ill. Our Heroes humour pleas'd his Master His Body grew his Wit much faster. The Doctors Errands could perform He always Sent him in a Storm. He carryed Vomits Minestred Glisters Felt the Pulse & dress'd their Blisters Constantly attended at the Meeting Saluted Neighbours wth. good Greeting. This sav'd the Doctor much good Grace When Dogship, Folks saw in his place. Now comes the Time for Poets say Tho' under Load long Virtue lay 262 Yet much it thrives, & forth will break Actions than Words much Louder Speak. Our Heroes Sence & hearty Laughter Gain'd him great Freinds from every Quarter Yet only thought a Dog, tho good Till high in Poet's Song he Stood To raise a Genious who can boast But those who feell its passions most. Who could have thought the Dog was freindly Or had a turn to actions Manly Till Freindship like to Stone Alchymick Which makes Dust Wood & Stones Gold Mimick Does by a much Superiour Art To Dogs themselves Freindship impart To carry Letter in Stormy Weather Than it disclose to dye much rather. The Poets sang this Dog's true Genus, From lonesome thoughts was form'd to Screen us To be to Freindship as was Mercury To the Deitys Muses a Swift Lacquey. This grace he had besides the Vertue That other Dog's are fam'd to aspire to Besides from Venus' Tribe he got Praise In serving of them divers Ways. Some won't bear telling Some won't thinking But that was an Age much fam'd for winking His happiness did much engage The Lovers Eye & rais'd their rage. Made Poet praise the Ladies Mind That choose such Dogs before Mankind. Thus rose our Dog high in respect An honour to the growling Sect His Virtue Such that Sons of Science Upon him placed much Reliance Gain'd much Esteem did all Freinds raise For all were lov'd that did him praise, Thus liv'd our Dog to crown his Name The Poet said his Virtuous Fame 263 Forever thence forth should be sung And grace the Speech of freindly Tongue The Latins Vates calld a Poet Which also Prophet means, all know it. All Poets are not Vates I doubt Because our Poet he was once out He try'd to prophesy we know But that his Short Sight much did show Strange that the Prophet should discover The Virtues round a Dog did hover Predict him hung in Fames high banner And yet quite overlook the manner Doom him a garland famous but yet Not see the halter that must String it Nor yet declare that it should deck Instead of head his Dogships Neck. Perhaps the Poet did predict To understand his Meaning strict Not that Our Heroes person Should To Ages to be esteem'd thus good But that his Virtues Should be prais'd His faults conceal'd & neer be rais'd. This was quite kind tho' not canonical For that extols a man good bad & all. But Now the fatal Time for who From fate is free tho' ere so true Whether our Heroe had the faults averr'd Or whether Falshood was for Truth declard Uncertain is, but this for Truth we know He Enemies had that workd his Overthrow. Greatness & Goodness neer so bright & pure Raises their Envy who can't it endure The Sun's hot Beams encreases Viper's fell At Moons bright Silence Canine Race do yell Slander roused up her three tind Venimous tongue And Treachery such dire Accusations flung That thoughtfull Judges said it was not safe, To examine facts wn. settled their belief 264 Least wn. expos'd to prying criticks veiw The well known Facts should chance to not be true. Besides to have them talkd by common Folk Would turn the well meant Act into a Joak Take off the Edge of Sanctity the most From Things that neer had Sanctity to boast and State affairs ought never to be scann'd Like Table talk about from hand to hand. In short to end this sorrowfull affair They hung him up by Neck both hide & hair. Neer prov'd the Fact tho' he did much beseech Nor gave him leave to make a dying Speech. But since he's dead we hear his Accusation Is told at large, be it known to all the Nation That this same Dog so famous for his Skill Liv'd with a Doctor where he learn'd to kill. Some Sheep he Slew. He did it is quite plain Because Secundem Artem2 they were Slain. And here he hangs to future Age the blaster Of Canine Freindship, of Poets Prophecy & eke the skill of his Master. Alass we all must Dye, not only so But after Death disgrace doth often grow Alass poor Dog thou'rt not the only one Whose great Good Deeds has all their Joy undone Where's Raleigh, Deveroux, Mary not to mention K:C:1.3 who dyed from Lofty Station. Trappan'd by other Guile they fell a Victim To treachrous Men least alive they should convict 'em. Some others have not Dy'd, tis true but yet have lost That Glory wch. much hardship had them cost While they abroad in faithfull hardship toil'd Heartsucking Foes at home their favour Roil'd. Begrutch not then thy Life so well bestow'd Which when you had with Such great Virtues flow'd And now you're gone perhaps you've done more good Than if you'd livd a thousand years you could I doubt not when the Truth Shall once be known 265 Some other Dog hard by yr. famous Town Renow'd for Virtues of more Usefull kind Than those wch. erst adorn'd yr. genrous Mind Not Freindship thats a trifling Art And good to none but Poets does impart It serves like other things to make a Verse on We admire the thoughts the rest we make a farce on but he some plodding faculty had got To cut the Wood perhaps to boil the Pot Could Butcher Meat oft take the same by Stealth Thus Get as well as guard his Masters Wealth Could it be thought that such a Dog should dye for Slaying Sheep when you're so handy by He much more usefull that the Cobler fam'd You than the Weaver much more to be blam'd And yet they put the Weavers Neck in fetters To clear the way for those that were his betters We mourn you dead not for the good you've done But 'cause the Verses on you made much Fun But now they'll cease but yet we hope yr. Vertue Will aye be sung by every one that dare to. Finis

Dft ; endorsed: "To Mr. S:Q:" Samuel Quincy.

1.

Greek notice board.

2.

According to art.

3.

Charles I, king of Great Britain and Ireland (1600–1649).

Confusion City May 6, 1755 1 Sr. Laureat,

I recd. yr. hierogliphical Epistles, & unravell'd it not because my Knack is so penetrating, but the Mistery So superficial; but I am not Sensible that to be vers'd in Hierogliphicks is Necessary for any but An Egyptian Divine: unless Metaphorically applied to a Christian it may teach him to explore the hidden Wickedness of modern Sinners, however disguis'd with crooked florishes or any external Ornaments. I am surpriz'd you shoud desire me to Communicate to you Any thing from266the dark & cloudy Gulph of Witchcraft. I thought yr. Persuits for Knowledge were of a nobler Nature to consult Magic & never guess'd you had the least Pretensions to the black Art however in the Charecter of a Lay-Man you must expect no Intelligence from else where; Nor Am I less Surpriz'd that you should apply to me for the definition of a Science, wch. by yr. Application one would have thought you the Master off, for you say you want the Mistical Meaning of the Song of Songs, & a Mistery it is that the Sons of Science, the Souls of Reason, yea the very reputed for Wisdom, should be Enslaved, & confind to the enervating, Unmanning & Reason confounding Study of either the practice or even the Theory of Love, but if I in any shape meet with Any thing worthy yr. perusal I shall present it as I do this as a pledge of the Unaffected Respects & Friendship of yr. Willing Serv.,

R:T: P

Investiganti Appollonis non nomen, Sed Applicanti.2

Dft ; endorsed in RTP's hand: "Hieroglyphick Letter from & to S.Q." Samuel Quincy's letter of the same year precedes this draft of RTP's decipher, key, and reply.

1.

RTP notes in his diary on this day that he wrote to "S:Q:." In the evening of that day he went from Lancaster to Groton.

2.

To him not investigating the name of Apollo but applying it.