HISTORY OF ENGLISH HUMOUR

With an Introduction upon Ancient Humour. 

by

THE REV. A. G. L'ESTRANGE, Author of"The Life of the Rev. William Harness, ""From the Thames to the Tamar, "Etc. 

In Two Volumes. 

Vol. I. 

London:Hurst and Blackett, Publishers, 13, Great Marlborough Street. 1878. All rights reserved. 

CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 

 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

 Subjective Character of the Ludicrous--The Subject little Studied--Obstacles to the Investigation--Evanescence--Mental Character of the Ludicrous--Distinction between Humour and the Ludicrous 1

 INTRODUCTION. 

 PART I. 

 ORIGIN OF HUMOUR. 

 Pleasure in Humour--What is Laughter?--Sympathy--First Phases--Gradual Development--Emotional Phase--Laughter of Pleasure--Hostile Laughter--Is there any sense of the Ludicrous in the Lower Animals?--Samson--David--Solomon--Proverbs--Fables 13

 PART II. 

 GREEK HUMOUR. 

 Birth of Humour--Personalities--Story of Hippocleides--Origin of Comedy--Archilochus--Hipponax--Democritus, the Laughing Philosopher--Aristophanes--Humour of the Senses--Indelicacy--Enfeeblement of the Drama--Humorous Games--Parasites, their Position and Jests--Philoxenus--Diogenes--Court of Humour--Riddles--Silli 52

 PART III. 

 ROMAN HUMOUR. 

 Roman Comedy--Plautus--Acerbity--Terence--Satire--Lucilius--Horace --Humour of the Cæsar Family--Cicero--Augustus--Persius--Petronius --Juvenal--Martial--Epigrammatist--Lucian--Apuleius--Julian the Apostate--The Misopogon--Symposius' Enigmas--Macrobius--Hierocles and Philagrius 99

 ENGLISH HUMOUR. 

 CHAPTER I. 

 MIDDLE AGES. 

 Relapse of Civilization in the Middle Ages--Stagnation of Mind--Scarcity of Books--Character of reviving Literature--Religious Writings--Fantastic Legends--Influence of the Crusades--Romances--Sir Bevis of Hamptoun--Prominence of the Lower Animals--Allegories 161

 CHAPTER II. 

 Anglo-Saxon Humour--Rhyme--Satires against the Church--The Brunellus--Walter Mapes--Goliardi--Piers the Ploughman--Letters of Obscure Men--Erasmus--The Praise of Folly--Skelton--The Ship of Fools--Doctour Doubble Ale--The Sak full of Nuez--Church Ornamentation--Representations of the Devil 179

 CHAPTER III. 

 Origin of Modern Comedy--Ecclesiastical Buffoonery--Jougleurs and Minstrels--Court Fools--Monks' Stories--The "Tournament of Tottenham"--Chaucer--Heywood--Roister Doister--Gammer Gurton 211

 CHAPTER IV. 

 Robert Greene--Friar Bacon's Demons--The "Looking Glasse"--Nash and Harvey 231

 CHAPTER V. 

 Donne--Hall--Fuller 243

 CHAPTER VI. 

 Shakespeare--Ben Jonson--Beaumont and Fletcher--The Wise Men of Gotham 250

 CHAPTER VII. 

 Jesters--Court of Queen Elizabeth--James I. --The "Counterblasts to Tobacco"--Puritans--Charles II. --Rochester--Buckingham--Dryden--Butler 271

 CHAPTER VIII. 

 Comic Drama of the Restoration--Etheridge--Wycherley 303

 CHAPTER IX. 

 Tom Brown--His Prose Works--Poetry--Sir Richard Blackmore--D'Urfey--Female Humorists--Carey 312

 CHAPTER X. 

 Vanbrugh--Colley Cibber--Farquhar 340

 CHAPTER XI. 

 Congreve--Lord Dorset 355

HISTORY OF ENGLISH HUMOUR. 

PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 

Subjective Character of the Ludicrous--The Subject little Studied--Obstacles to the Investigation--Evanescence--Mental Character of the Ludicrous--Distinction between Humour and the Ludicrous. 

The ludicrous is in its character so elusive and protean, and the fieldover which it extends is so vast, that few have ever undertaken the taskof examining it systematically. Many philosophers and literary men havemade passing observations upon it, but most writers are content to setit down as one of those things which cannot be understood, and care notto study and grapple with a subject which promises small results inreturn for considerable toil. Moreover, the inquiry does not seemsufficiently important to warrant the expenditure of much time upon it, and there has always been a great tendency among learned men tounderrate the emotional feelings of our nature. Thus it comes to passthat a much larger amount of our labour has been expended upon inquiringinto physical and intellectual constitution than upon the inner workingsof our passions and sentiments, for our knowledge of which, thoughaffecting our daily conduct, we are mostly indebted to therepresentations of poets and novelists. Beattie well observes thatnothing is below the attention of a philosopher which the Author ofNature has been pleased to establish. Investigations of this kind wouldnot be unrewarded, nor devoid of a certain amount of interest; and Ithink that in the present subject we can, by perseverance, penetrate alittle distance into an almost untrodden and apparently barren region, and if we cannot reach the source from whence the bright waters spring, can at least obtain some more accurate information about the surroundingcountry. 

Notwithstanding all the obstructions and discouragements in the way ofthis investigation a few great men have given it a certain amount ofattention. Aristotle informs us in his "Rhetoric" that he has dealtfully with the subject in his Poetics, and although the treatise isunfortunately lost, some annotations remain which show that it was of acomprehensive character. Cicero and Quintilian in their instructions inOratory, made the study of humour a necessary part of the course, andin modern days many ingenious definitions and descriptions of it arefound among the pages of general literature. Most philosophers havetouched the subject timidly and partially, unwilling to devote much timeto it, and have rather stated what they thought ought to be inaccordance with some pet theories of their own, than drawn deductionsfrom careful analysis. They generally only looked at one phase of theludicrous, at one kind of humour, and had not a sufficient number ofexamples before them--probably from the difficulty of recalling slightturns of thought in widely scattered subjects. Add to this, that many ofthem--constantly immersed in study--would have had some littledifficulty in deciding what did and did not deserve the name of humour. Most of their definitions are far too wide, and often in supporting atheory they make remarks which tend to refute it. The imperfecttreatment, which the subject had received, led Dugald Stewart to observethat it was far from being exhausted. 

The two principal publications which have appeared on humour, areFlögel's "Geschichte der Komischen Litteratur" (1786), and Léon Dumont's"Les Causes du Rire. " The former is voluminous, but scarcely touches onphilosophy, without which such a work can have but little coherence. The latter shows considerable psychological knowledge, but is written tosupport a somewhat narrow and incomplete view. Mr. Wright's excellentbook on "The Grotesque in Literature and Art, " is, as the name suggests, principally concerned with broad humour, and does not so much trace itssource as the effects it has produced upon mankind. Mr. Cowden Clark'scontributions on the subject to the "Gentleman's Magazine, " are mostlyinteresting from their biographical notices. 

To analyse and classify all the vagaries of the human imagination whichmay be comprehended under the denomination of humour, is no easy task, and as it is multiform we may stray into devious paths in pursuing it. But vast and various as the subject seems to be, there cannot be muchdoubt that there are some laws which govern it, and that it can bebrought approximately under certain heads. It seems to be as generallyadmitted that there are different kinds of humour as that someobservations possess none at all. Moreover, when remarks of a certainkind are made, especially such as show confusion or exaggeration, weoften seem to detect some conditions of humour, and by a little changeare able to make something, which has more or less the character of ajest. 

There is in this investigation a very formidable "Dweller on theThreshold. " We contend with great disadvantages in any attempts toexamine our mental constitution. When we turn the mind in upon itself, and make it our object, the very act of earnest reflection obscures theidea, or destroys the emotion we desire to contemplate. This isespecially the case in the present instance. The ludicrous, when weattempt to grasp it, shows off its gay and motley garb, and appears ingrave attire. It is only by abstracting our mind from the inquiry, andthrowing it into lighter considerations, that we can at all retain theillusion. A clever sally appears brilliant when it breaks suddenly uponthe mental vision, but when it is brought forward for close examinationit loses half its lustre, and seems to melt into unsubstantial air. Humour may be compared to a delicate scent, which we only perceive atthe first moment, or to evanescent beauty--

 "For every touch that wooed its stay Has brushed its brightest hues away. "

This last simile is especially in point here, and the quotations in thisbook will scarcely be found humorous, so long as they are regarded asmere illustrations of the nature of humour. 

We need not--taking these matters into consideration--feel muchsurprised that some people say the ludicrous cannot be defined; as forinstance, Buckingham, "True wit is everlasting like the sun, Describing all men, but described by none;"

and Addison:--"It is much easier to decide what is not humorous thanwhat is, and very difficult to define it otherwise than Cowley has done, by negatives"--the only meaning of which is that the subject issurrounded with rather more than the usual difficulties attending moraland psychological researches. Similar obstacles would be encountered inanswering the question, "What is poetry?" or "What is love?" We can onlysay that even here there must be some surroundings by which we canincrease our knowledge. 

Humour is the offspring of man--it comes forth like Minerva fully armedfrom the brain. Our sense of the ludicrous is produced by our peculiarmental constitution, and not by external objects, in which there isnothing either absurd or serious. As when the action of our mind isimperceptible--for instance, in hearing and seeing with our "bodily"senses--we think what we notice is something in the external world, although it is only so far dependent upon it that it could not existwithout some kind of outer influence, so the result of our notrecognising the amusing action of the mind in the ludicrous is that weregard it as a quality resident in the persons and things wecontemplate. [1] But it does not belong to these things, and is totallydifferent from them in kind. Thus, the rose is formed of certaincombinations of earth, air, and water; yet none of these dull elementspossess the fragrance or beauty of the flower. These properties comefrom some attractive and constructive power. Not only are there no typesor patterns in things of our emotions, but there are none even of oursensations; heat and cold, red or blue, are such only for ourconstitution. This truth is beautifully set forth by Addison in apassage in which, as Dugald Stewart justly remarks, "We are at a losswhether most to admire the author's depth and refinement of thought, orthe singular felicity of fancy displayed in its illustration. " "Things, "he observes, "would make but a poor appearance to the eye, if we sawthem only in their proper figures and motions. And what reason can weassign for their exciting in us many of those ideas which are differentfrom anything that exists in the objects themselves (for such are lightand colours) were it not to add supernumerary ornaments to the universe, and make it more agreeable to the imagination? We are everywhereentertained with pleasing shows and apparitions. We discover imaginaryglories in the heavens and on the earth, and see some of this visionarybeauty poured out over the whole creation. But what a rough, unsightlysketch of Nature should we be entertained with, did all her colouringdisappear, and the several distinctions of light and shade vanish! Inshort, our souls are delightfully lost and bewildered in a pleasingdelusion, and we walk about like the enchanted hero of a romance, whosees beautiful castles, woods, and meadows, and at the same time hearsthe warbling of birds and the purling of streams; but upon the finishingof some secret spell, the fantastic scene breaks up, and thedisconsolate knight finds himself on a barren heath, or in a solitarydesert. "

I have introduced these considerations, because it is very difficult forus to realize that what we behold is merely phenomenal, that

 "Things are not what they seem;"

but that we are looking into the mirror of Nature at our own likeness. When we speak of a ludicrous occurrence, we cannot avoid thinking thatthe external events themselves contain something of that character. Thus, the ludicrous has come in our ideas and language to be separatedfrom the sense in which alone it exists, and it is desirable that weshould clearly understand that the distinction is only logical and notreal. 

When the cause of our laughter--be it mind, matter, or imaginarycircumstance--is merely regarded as something incongruous and amusing, we name it the ludicrous, and a man is called ludicrous as faulty orcontemptible. But when the cause of it is viewed as something more thanthis, as coming from some conscious power or tendency within us--avaluable gift and an element in our mental constitution--we call ithumour, a term applied only to human beings and their productions; and aman is called humorous as worthy of commendation. Both are in truthfeelings--we might say one feeling--and although we can conceive humourto exist apart from the ludicrous, and to be a power within us creatingit, there is a difficulty in following out the distinction. Thedifference between them is in our regard. 

As soon as in course of time it became plainly evident that gaycreations might emanate from man, and not only from the outer world, thefact was marked by the formation of a distinctive name, and by degreesseveral names--among which the most comprehensive in English is Humour. This kind of gift became gradually known as more or less possessed byall, and when the operations of the mind came to be recognised, we weremore enlightened on the subject, and acknowledged it to be a mental andcreative power. Such admissions would not be made by men in generalwithout some very strong evidence, and therefore a humorous man was notmerely one who had an internal sense of the ludicrous, but one whoemployed it for the delectation of others. Hence, also, though there isno consciousness of being amusing in the man who is ludicrous, there isin one that is humorous. A wit must always be pleasant intentionally. Aman who in sober seriousness recounts something which makes us laugh isnot humorous, although his want of discrimination may not be sufficientto make him ludicrous. Children are not regarded as humorous, for, although they enjoy such simple humour as toys afford, they very seldomnotice what is merely ludicrous, and do not reproduce it in any way; andthe same may be said of many grown persons, who require to be fed as itwere, and although they can enjoy what is embellished by others, have nooriginal observation. Thus, although Herbert Mayo is substantiallycorrect in saying that "humour is the sentiment of the ludicrous, " hemight have added that there is a difference between the two in ourknowledge of them. In the former, the creative mind is more marked, and, a man though he laughs much, if he be dull in words is only consideredto have mirth, _i. E. _, joyousness or a sense of the ludicrous, nothumour. The gift can only be brought prominently forward in speech orwriting, and thus humour comes to be often regarded as a kind ofingredient or seasoning in a speech or book, if not actually synonymouswith certain sentences or expressions. Still we always confine the nameto human productions, as, for instance, gestures, sayings, writings, pictures, and plays. 

The recognition of the mental character of humour did not necessarilyimply any knowledge as to the authority, instability, or constancy ofthe feeling--that could only be acquired by philosophical investigation. Nor have we yet so far ascertained its character as to be able to formhumorous fancies upon any fixed principle. We are guided by some senseof the ludicrous which we cannot analyse; or we introduce into new andsimilar cases relationships in things which we have observed to beamusing. Some forms are so general that they will produce a vast numberof jests, and we thus seem to have some insight into the influences thatawaken humour, but we see only approximately and superficially, and canmerely produce good results occasionally--rather by an accident thanwith any certainty. 

INTRODUCTION. 

PART I. 

ORIGIN OF HUMOUR. 

Pleasure in Humour--What is Laughter?--Sympathy--First Phases--Gradual Development--Emotional Phase--Laughter of Pleasure--Hostile Laughter--Is there any sense of the Ludicrous in the Lower Animals?--Samson--David--Solomon--Proverbs--Fables. 

Few of the blessings we enjoy are of greater value than the gift ofhumour. The pleasure attendant upon it attracts us together, forms anincentive, and gives a charm to social intercourse, and, unlike theconcentrating power of love, scatters bright rays in every direction. That humour is generally associated with enjoyment might be concludedfrom the fact that the genial and good-natured are generally the mostmirthful, and we all have so much personal experience of thegratification it affords, that it seems superfluous to adduce any proofsupon the subject. "Glad" is from the Greek word for laughter, and theword "jocund" comes from a Latin term signifying "pleasant. " But we cantrace the results of this connection in our daily observation. How comesit to pass that many a man who is the life and soul of socialgatherings, and keeps his friends in delighted applause, sits, whenalone in his study, grave and sedate, and seldom, if ever, smiles inreading or meditation? Is it not because humour is a source of pleasure?We are not joyously disposed when alone, whereas in society we are readyto give and receive whatever is bright and cheering. 

The first question which now presents itself is what is laughter? andour answer must be that it is a change of countenance accompanied by aspasmodic intermittent sound--a modification of the voice--but that wecannot trace its physical origin farther than to attribute it to someeffect produced upon the sympathetic nerve, or rather the system ofnerves termed respiratory. These communicate with every organ affectedin mirth, but the ultimate connection between mind and body is hiddenfrom our view. 

In all laughter there is more or less pleasure, except in that ofhysteria, when by a sudden shock the course of Nature is reversed, andexcessive grief will produce the signs of joy, as extravagant delightwill sometimes exhibit those of sorrow. We should also exclude thelaughter caused by inhalation of gas, and that of maniacs, which arisingfrom some strange and unaccountable feeling is abnormal and imperfect, and known by a hollow sound peculiar to itself. None of these kinds oflaughter are primary, they are but imperfect reflections of our usualmodes of expression, and, excepting such cases, we may agree that M. Paffe is correct in observing that "Joy is an indispensable condition oflaughter. " Dr. Darwin refers to the laughter of idiots to prove that itmay be occasioned by pleasure alone. Strangely enough, he quotes as aninstance in point the fact of an idiot boy having laughed at receiving ablack eye. 

Proceeding onwards, we next come to inquire why the sense of humour isexpressed by voice and countenance, and does not merely afford a silentand secret delight? The answer may be given, that one object, at least, is to increase social communication and multiply pleasure. Thewell-being of the animal world largely depends upon the power of eachmember of it to communicate with others of the same species. They all doso by sound and gesture, probably to a larger extent than we generallyimagine. A celebrated physician lately observed to me that "all animalshave some language. " How far mere signs deserve so high a name may bequestioned. But man has great powers of intercourse, and it is muchowing to his superior faculties in this respect that he holds his placeso high above the rest of creation. Orators, who make it their study tobe impressive, give full importance to every kind of expression, and saythat a man should be able to make his meaning understood, even when hisvoice is inaudible. It has been lately discovered that the mere movementof the lips alone, without sound, is sufficient to conveyinformation. [2] Facial expression has been given us as a means ofassisting communication, and smiles and laughter have become thedistinctive manifestations of humour. Thus the electric spark passesfrom one to another, and the flashing eye and wreathed lip lights up theworld. Profit also accrues--fear of being laughed at leads us to avoidnumerous small errors, and by laughing at others we are enabled todetect shortcomings in ourselves. 

Sympathetic laughter does not arise from any contemplation of ludicrouscircumstances, but is only a sort of reflection of the feelings ofothers. There seems to be little intelligence in it, but somethingalmost physical, just as yawning is infectious, or as on seeing a personwounded in a limb we instinctively shrink ourselves in the same part ofthe body. Even a picture of a man laughing will have some effect uponus, and so have those songs in which exuberant mirth is imitated. Thuswe often laugh without feeling just cause, as we often feel causewithout laughing. All exhibitions of emotion are infectious. We feel sadat seeing a man in grief, although the source of his sorrow is unknownto us; and we are inclined to be joyous when surrounded by the votariesof mirth. Not unfrequently we find a number of persons laughing, whenthe greater part of them have no idea what is the cause of themerriment. Sometimes we cannot entirely resist the impulse, even when weourselves are the object of it, so much are we inclined to enter intothe feelings and views of those who surround us. In this, as well as inmany other cases, the sight and proximity of others exercise over us agreat influence, and sometimes almost a fascination. 

To this sympathy we are largely indebted for the diffusion of highspirits. It is pleasant to laugh and see others laughing, and thus theone leads to the other. "Laugh and be fat, " is a proverb, and it hasbeen well observed that "we like those who make us laugh, " because theygive us pleasure. We may add that we like to see others joyous, becausewe feel that we are surrounded by kindly natures. A gallant writer tellsus that he hopes to be rewarded for his labours in the field ofliterature by "the sweetest of all sounds in nature--the laughter offair women. " Macready, speaking of this influence, says:

"The words of Milman would have applied well to Mrs. Jordan, 'Oh, thewords laughed on her lips!' Mrs. Nesbitt, the charming actress of a lateday, had a fascinating power in the sweetly-ringing notes of her heartymirth; but Mrs. Jordan's laugh was so rich, so apparently irrepressible, so deliciously self-enjoying, as to be at all times irresistible. "

The agreeable influence of smiles is so well known that many are temptedto counterfeit them, and assume an expression in which the eye and lipare in unhappy conflict. [3] On the other hand, painful thoughts areinimical to mirth. No sally of humour will brighten the countenance of aman who has lately suffered a severe loss, and even mental reflectionwill extinguish every sparkle. But the bed of sickness can often bebetter cheered by some gay efflorescence, some happy turn of thought, than by expressions of condolence. Galen says that Æsculapius wrotecomic songs to promote circulation in his patients; and Hippocratestells us that "a physician should have a certain ready humour, forausterity is repulsive both to well and ill. " The late Sir Charles Clarkrecognised this so far that one of his patients told me that his visitswere like a bottle of Champagne; and Sir John Byles observes, "Cheerfulness eminently conduces to health both of body and mind; it isone of the great physicians of nature. 

 "Il y a trois médecins qui ne se trompent pas, La gaité, le doux exercice, et le modeste repas. 

Every hour redeemed from despondency and melancholy, and bathed in thesunshine of cheerfulness, is an hour of true life gained. "

Our views with regard to the first appearance of laughter depend onwhether we consider that man was gradually developed from the primevaloyster, or that he came into the world much in the same condition asthat in which we find him now. If we adopt the former opinion, we mustconsider that no outward expressions of feeling originally existed; ifthe latter, that they were from the first almost as perfect as they areat present. But I think that we shall be on tolerably safe ground, andhave the support of probability and history, if we say that, in hisearliest condition, the mental endowments of man were of the veryhumblest description, but that he had always a tendency to progress andimprove. This view obtains some little corroboration from the fact thatthe sounds animals utter in the early stages of their lives are notfully developed, and that the children of the poor are graver and moresilent than those of the educated classes. But a certain predispositionto laughter there always was, for what animal has ever produced any butits own characteristic sound? Has not everyone its own natural mode ofexpression? Does not the dog show its pleasure by wagging its tail, andthe cat by purring? We never find one animal adopting the vocal soundsof another--a bird never mews, and a cat never sings. Some men have beencalled cynics from their whelpish ill-temper, but none of them have everadopted a real canine snarl, though it might express their feelingsbetter than human language. Laughter, so far as we can judge, could nothave been obtained by any mere mental exercise, nor would it have comefrom imitation, for it is only found in man, the yelping of a hyenabeing as different from it as the barking of a dog, or the cackling ofa goose. We may, however, suppose that the first sounds uttered by manwere demonstrative of pain or pleasure, marking a great primarydistinction, which we make in common with all animals. But our nextexpression showed superior sensibility and organism: it denoted a verypeculiar perception of the intermingling of pain and pleasure, acombination of opposite feelings not possessed by other animals, or notdistinct enough in them to have a specific utterance. There might seemto be something almost physical in the sensation, as it can be excitedby tickling, or the inhalation of gas. Similar results may be producedby other bodily causes. Homer speaks of the chiefs laughing after asumptuous banquet, and of a man "laughing sweetly" when drunk. Bacon'sterm _titillatio_, would seem very appropriate in such cases. There wasan idea, in olden times, that laughter emanated from a particular partof the body. Tasso, in "Jerusalem Delivered, " describing the death ofArdonio, who was slain by a lance, says that it

 "Pierced him through the vein Where laughter has her fountain and her seat, So that (a dreadful bane) He laughed for pain, and laughed himself to death. "

This idea probably arose from observing the spasmodic power oflaughter, which was greater formerly than now, and to the same origin wemay attribute the stories of the fatal consequences it has, at times, produced; of Zeuxis, the painter, having expired in a fit brought on bycontemplating a caricature he had made of an old woman, and ofFranciscus Cosalinus, a learned logician, having thus broken ablood-vessel, which led to his dying of consumption. Wolfius relates"that a country bumpkin, called Brunsellius, by chance seeing a womanasleep at a sermon fall off her seat, was so taken that he laughed forthree days, which weakened him so that he continued for a long timeafterwards in an infirm state. "

We must suppose that laughter has always existed in man, at least aslong as he has been physically constituted as he is now, for it mightalways have been produced by tickling the papillæ of the nerves, whichare said to be more exposed in man than in other animals. When we havestated the possibility of this pleasurable sensation being awakenedunder such circumstances, we have, in fact, asserted that it was incourse of time thus called into existence. But the enjoyment might havebeen limited to this low phase, for the mind might have been so vacant, so deficient in emotion and intelligence that the moral and intellectualconditions necessary for a higher kind of laughter might have beenwanting. This seems to be the case among some savages at the presentday, such as the New Zealanders and North American Indians. The earliestlaughter did not arise from what we call the ludicrous, but fromsomething apparently physical--such as touch--though it does not followthat it would never otherwise have existed at all, for, as the mind morefully developed itself, facial expressions would flow from superior andmore numerous causes. Nor can we consider that what is properly calledmirth was shown in this primitive physical laughter, which was such asmay be supposed to have existed when darkness was on the face of theintellectual world. How great, and of what continuance, was thisprimeval stagnation must be for ever unknown to us, but it was notdestined to prevail. Light gradually dawned upon the mental wastes, andthey became productive of beauty and order. As greater sensibilitydeveloped itself, emotion began to be expressed; first, probably at anadult period of life, by the sounds belonging to the correspondingfeelings in the bodily constitution. Tears and cries betoken mental aswell as physical anguish, and laughter denoted a mixed pleasurablefeeling either in mind or body. There is a remarkable instance of thistransference from the senses to the emotional feelings in the case ofwhat is called sardonic laughter, in which a similar contortion ofcountenance to that caused by the pungency of a Sardinian herb isconsidered to denote a certain moral acerbity. Here there is an analogyestablished between the senses and emotions in their outwardmanifestation, just as there is in language in the double meaning ofsuch terms as bitter and sweet. 

When we consider the fact that matter is that which gives, and mind thatwhich receives impressions, or that our perceptions do not teach thenature of external things, but that of our own constitution, we shalladmit that there is not such a fundamental difference between feelingsderived from the sense of touch, and those coming through our othersenses. But we must observe that there is a great practical differencebetween them, inasmuch as the one sense remains in its originalprimitive state, and is not cultivated as are the others. Physicallaughter requires no previous experience, no exercise of judgment, andtherefore has no connection with the intellectual powers of the mind. The lowest boor may laugh on being tickled, but a man must haveintelligence to be amused by wit. The senses which are the leastdiscriminating are the least productive of humour, little is derivedfrom that of smell or of taste, though we may talk sometimes of aneducated palate and an acquired taste. The finer organs of sight andhearing are the chief mediums of humour, but the sense of touch might byeducation be rendered exquisitely sensitive, and Dickens mentions thecase of a girl he met in Switzerland who was blind, deaf, and dumb, butwho was constantly laughing. Among infants, also, where very slightcomplication is required, the sense of humour can be excited by touch. Thus nurses will sing, "Brow brinky, eye winkey, nose noppy, cheekcherry, mouth merry, " and greatly increase the little one's appreciationby, at the same time, touching the features named. Contact with otherbodies occasions a sensation, and might, by degrees, awaken an emotion;and we might thus have such a sense of the ludicrous as that obtainedthrough eye and ear, which is sometimes almost intuitive, and butslightly derived from reflection or experience. Of this kind is thataroused by the rapid changes of form and colour of the kaleidoscope, andthose pantomimic representations which amuse the young and uneducated, and others who live mostly in the senses. 

We have now arrived at the emotional phase of laughter, that in whichemotion far exceeds intellectual action. At this stage, we have a kindof laughter which we may call that of pleasure, inasmuch as it is thefirst that deserves a distinct name. This laughter of pleasure requiredvery little complication of thought, contained no unamiable feeling, andexpressed the mildest sense of the ludicrous. At the same time, it didnot flow from any mere constitutional joyousness, but only arose uponcertain occasions, in consequence of some remarkable and unusualoccurrence--such as the reception of glad tidings, or the suddenacquisition of some good fortune. This ancient laughter, now no longerexisting, is alluded to in early writings. 

Thus we read in Gen. Xxi. 6, that Sarah, on the birth of Isaac, said"God hath made me to laugh, so that all that hear will laugh with me, "and in Ps. Cxxvi. , "When the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion, wewere like them that dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, andour tongue with singing. " And in Proverbs we find, "There is a time toweep, and a time to laugh, " contrasting the expression of sorrow withthat of pleasure. Passing into Greek literature, we find laughterconstantly termed "sweet. " In Iliad xxi, "Saturn smiled sweetly atseeing his daughter;" in xxiii. "The chiefs arose to throw the shield, and the Greeks laughed, _i. E. _, with joy. " In Odyssey, xx. 390, theyprepare the banquet with laughter. Od. Xxii. , 542, Penelope laughs atTelemachus sneezing, when she is talking of Ulysses' return; she takesit for a good omen. And in the Homeric Hymns, which, although inferiorin date to the old Bard, are still among the earliest specimens ofliterature, we find, in that to Mercury, that the god laughs onbeholding a tortoise, "thinking that he will make a beautiful lyre outof its shell;" and a little further on, Apollo laughs at hearing thesound of the lyre. In the hymn to Aphrodite, the laughter-loving Venuslaughed sweetly when she thought of men and mortals being intermarried. The fact that this and the preceding kinds of laughter were notnecessarily regarded as intellectual, is evident from the ancient poetsattributing them to vegetable and inorganic life. Considerable licencein personification must no doubt be conceded to those who went so far asto deify the elements, and to imagine a sort of soul in the universe, and no doubt language as well as feeling was not at the time strictlylimited. But it must be remarked that, while they rarely attributelaughter to the lower animals, they also never ascribe any other sign ofemotion, nor even that in its higher kinds, to insensate matter. In allthese passages it is of a physical, or merely pleasurable description. In Iliad xiv. 362, speaking of the Grecian host, Homer says that "thegleam of their armour was reflected to heaven, and all the earth aroundlaughed at the brazen refulgence. "

In Hesiod's Theogony, v. 40, we read that when the Muses are singing"the palace of loud-thundering Jove laughs (with delight) at their lilyvoice;" and in the Hymn to Ceres we find Proserpine beholding aNarcissus, from the root of which a hundred heads sprang forth "and thewhole heavens were scented with its fragrance, and the whole earthlaughed and the briny wave of the sea. " Theognis writes that Delos, whenApollo was born, "was filled with the ambrosial odour, and the hugeearth laughed. " The poets seemed scarcely to have advanced beyond such abold similitude, and we may conclude that while they saw in laughtersomething above the powers of the brute creation, they did not considerthat it necessarily expressed the smallest exercise of intellect. 

This laughter of pleasure, which cheered the early centuries of theworld, now no longer exists except perhaps in childhood. It belongs tosimpler if not happier natures than our own. If a man were now to saythat his friends laughed on hearing of some good fortune having come tohim, we should suppose that they disbelieved it, or thought there wassomething ridiculous in the occurrence. In these less emotional ages, inwhich the manifestations of joy and sorrow are more subdued, it is mute, and has subsided into a smile. It is difficult to say when the changetook place, but our finding smiles mentioned in Homer, though not inScripture, might suggest their Greek origin, if they were at firstmerely a modification of the early laughter of pleasure, betokeninglittle more than kindly or joyous emotions. Although not always nowgenial, the smile continues to be used for the symbol of pleasure, evenin reference to inanimate Nature, as where Milton writes "Old Oceansmiled. " The smile may have preceded laughter, as the bud comes beforethe blossom, but it may, on the other hand, have been a reduction ofsomething more demonstrative. 

We have still a kind of laughter approaching very nearly to that ofpleasure, which contains little reflection, but cannot be regarded assimply physical. This description seems to be that alluded to in theBook of Ecclesiastes, "I said of laughter, it is mad, and of mirth, whatgood doeth it?" Of the same nature is that to which some excitable andjoyous persons are constitutionally inclined. Their perpetual merrimentseems to us childish and silly. Thus Steele observes to an hilariousfriend, "Sir, you never laughed in your life, " and farther on heremarks, "Some men laugh from mere benevolence. "

The pleasure accompanying the perception of the ludicrous has been bysome attributed to the exercise of certain muscles in the face, and byothers to the acquisition of new ideas. But we may safely discard boththeories, for the former derives the enjoyment from physical instead ofmental sources, and the latter gives us credit for too great a delightin knowledge, even were it thus generally obtained. The enjoyment seemspartly to arise from stimulation and activity of mind, excitement beinggenerally agreeable, whereas inaction is monotonous and wearisome. Butit seems also partly to be derived from sources which are, or appear tobe, collateral. Thus, in the early laughter of pleasure, some solidadvantage or gratification, present or future, was always in view, andfrom men being delighted at their own success, which must often havebeen obtained at the expense of others, it was an easy transition torejoice at the failure of rivals. In those primitive times, when peoplefelt themselves insecure, and one tribe was constantly at war withanother, there was nothing that gave them so much joy as the misfortunesof their enemies. They exhibited their exultation by indulging inextravagant transports, in shouting, in singing and dancing, and whenthere appeared some strangeness or peculiarity, something sudden orunaccountable in such disasters, laughter broke forth of that rude andhostile character which we may occasionally still hear among theuneducated classes. It accorded with the age in which it prevailed--aperiod when men were highly emotional and passionate, while theirintellectual powers were feeble and inactive. 

The two early phases of the ludicrous--those of pleasure and ofhostility--containing small complexity, and a large proportion ofemotion, are to a certain extent felt by the lower animals. Dr. Darwinhas observed an approximation to the laughter of pleasure in monkeys, but he does not connect it with intelligence, and would not, I believe, claim for them any sense of the ludicrous. I have, however, seen a dog, on suddenly meeting a friend, not only wag his tail, but curl up thecorners of his lips, and show his teeth, as if delighted and amused. Wemay also have observed a very roguish expression sometimes in the faceof a small dog when he is barking at a large one, just as a catevidently finds some fun in tormenting and playing with a capturedmouse. I have even heard of a monkey who, for his amusement, put a livecat into a pot of boiling water on the fire. These animals are thosemost nearly allied to man, but the perception of the ludicrous is notstrong enough in them to occasion laughter. The opinion of Vives thatanimals do not laugh because the muscles of their countenances do notallow them, can scarcely be regarded as philosophical. Milton tells usthat, "Smiles from reason flow, To brutes denied;"

a statement which may be taken as generally correct, although we admitthat there may be some approximation to smiling among the lower animals, and that it does not always necessarily proceed from reason. 

The pleasure found in hostile laughter soon led to practical jokes. Although now discountenanced, they were anciently very common, andformed the first link between humour and the ludicrous. They were notimitative, and did not show any actual power to invent what washumorous, but a desire to amuse by doing something which might causesome ludicrous action or scene, just as people unable to speak wouldpoint to things they wish to designate. These early jokes had severerobjects coupled with amusement, and were what we should call no joke atall. The first character in the records of antiquity that seems to havehad anything quaint or droll about it is that of Samson. Standing outamid the confusion of legendary times, he gives us good specimens of thefierce and wild kind of merriment relished in ancient days; and was fondof making very sanguinary "sport for the Philistines. " He was anexaggeration of a not very uncommon type of man, in which brute strengthis joined to loose morals and whimsical fancy. People were more inclinedto laugh at sufferings formerly, because they were not keenly sensitiveto pain, and also had less feeling and consideration for others. ThatSamson found some malicious kind of pleasure and diversion in hisreprisals on his enemies, and made their misfortunes minister to hisamusement, is evident from the strange character of his exploits. "Hecaught three hundred foxes, and took fire-brands, and turned tail totail, and put a fire-brand in the midst between two tails, and when hehad set the brands on fire, he let them go into the standing corn of thePhilistines, and burnt up both the shocks and also the standing corn ofthe Philistines, with the vineyards and olives. " On another occasion heallowed himself to be bound with cords, and thus apparently deliveredpowerless into the hands of his enemies; he then broke his bonds "likeflax that was burnt with fire, " and taking the _jaw-bone of an ass_, which he found, slew a thousand men with it. His account of thismassacre shows that he regarded it in a humorous light: "With thejaw-bone of an ass heaps upon heaps, with the jaw of an ass I have slaina thousand men. " We might also refer to his carrying away the gates ofGaza to the top of a hill that is before Hebron, and to his dupingDelilah about the seven green withes. 

In the above instances it will be observed that destruction ordisappointment of enemies was the primary, and amusement the secondaryobject. It must be admitted that all such jokes are of a very poor andsevere description. They have not the undesigned coincidence of theludicrous nor the fanciful invention of true humour. Samson wasevidently regarded as a droll fellow in his day, but beyond his jokesthe only venture of his on record is a riddle, which showed very littleingenuity, and can not be regarded as humorous now, even if it were sothen. 

It would, perhaps, be going too far to assert that no laughter of abetter kind existed before the age at which we are now arrived; someminds are always in advance of their time, as others are behind it, butthey are few. The only place in which there is any approach in earlytimes to what may be called critical laughter is recorded where Abrahamand Sarah were informed of the approaching birth of Isaac. Perhaps thislaughter was mostly that of pleasure. Sarah denied that she laughed, andAbraham was not rebuked when guilty of the same levity. [4]

With the exception of the above-mentioned riddle, and rough pranks ofSamson, we have no trace of humour until after the commencement of theMonarchy. The reigns of David and Solomon seemed to have formed thebrightest period in the literary history of the Jews. The sweet Psalmistof Israel was partly the pioneer to deeper thought, partly therepresentative of the age in which he lived. It is the charm of hispoetry that it is very rich and recondite--a mine of gold, which thefarther it is worked, the more precious its yield becomes. But iteverywhere bears the stamp of passion and religious ardour, and does notbespeak the critical incisiveness of a highly civilised age. Argumentative acumen would have been as much below the poetic mind ofDavid in one respect as it was above it in another, and while hisrapturous language of admiration and faith seems above the range ofhuman genius; his bitter denunciations of his enemies remind us of hisdate, and the circumstances by which he was surrounded. Such immaturitywould be sufficient to account for the non-existence of humour. It maybe urged that David had no tendency in that direction. His thoughts wereturned towards the sublime, and his religious character, his royalestate, and the vicissitudes of his early life, all inclined him toserious reflection. But we do not find that David was invariably graveand solemn. He indulged in laughter at the misfortunes of hisadversaries, as we may conclude from a passage in Psalm lii, 6. "Godshall likewise destroy thee for ever; he shall take thee away and pluckthee out of thy dwelling-place, and root thee out of the land of theliving. Selah. The righteous also shall see and fear, and shall laugh athim. "

He also considered that, in turn, his enemies would deride him, if hewere unsuccessful. Psalm xxii, 7--"All they that see me laugh me toscorn; they shoot out the lip and shake the head, saying, 'He trusted inthe Lord. '"

He evidently thought there was nothing wrong in such laughter, for heeven considers it compatible with Divine attributes, [5] Psalm ii, 4, "He that sitteth in Heaven shall laugh; the Lord shall have them inderision;" and Psalm xxxvii, 13, "The Lord shall laugh at him, for heseeth that his day is coming. "

Nothing can make it more certain than such expressions that the prophetsinterpreted the intimations they received from above by clothing themwith their own mundane similitudes. 

On the other hand, although David laughed at his enemies, he never seemsto have done so at anything else. He frequently mentions fools, butalways with detestation. To him the term did not convey any idea offrivolity or eccentricity, but of crime and wickedness. All theseconsiderations tend to convince us that we can see in the writings ofDavid a fairly good reflection of the mirth common in his day. Add tothis that there is no trace in any contemporary work of an attemptbeyond the emotional phases of the ludicrous, and we do not at this timeread of any performance of Jewish plays, or of any kind of amusingrepresentations. 

A more advanced, but less faithful age is represented by another man. The soldier-king passed away to make room for one educated under milderinfluences. He inherited not the piety or warlike virtues of his father, but turned the same greatness of mind into a more luxurious and learnedchannel. In his writings we find little that approaches the sublime, butmuch that implies analytical depth and complexity of thought. His tonebespeaks a settled and civilized period favourable to art andphilosophy, in which subtlety was appreciated, while the old feelings ofacerbity had become greatly softened. 

In the intellectual and moral state at this date, there were manyconditions favourable to the development of humour. But we do not findit yet actually existing, although we must suppose that a mind capableof forming proverbs could not have been entirely insensible to it. Wemay define a proverb to be a moral statement, instructive in object, andepigrammatically expressed. It is always somewhat controversial, andwhen it approaches a truism scarcely deserves the name. 

A great many of Solomon's proverbs may be regarded in two lights, and Ithink a comparison between some of them will show that he was aware ofthe fact, and if so he could scarcely have avoided feeling some senseof the ludicrous, and even of having a slight idea of humour in itshigher phases. I shall allude in illustration of this to a proverb oftenquoted ironically at the present day. "In the multitude of counsellorsthere is wisdom, " and which we have combated and answered by a commondomestic adage. 

Again Solomon is rather hard upon the failings of the ladies, "Thecontentions of a wife, " he says, "are a continual dropping. " "It isbetter to dwell in the corner of a housetop than with a brawling womanin a wide house. " "It is better to dwell in the wilderness than with acontentious and angry woman. " The meaning of all these sayings must bethat women are of a very irritable and vexatious character. But didSolomon really believe in the strong terms he used towards them. Weshould say not to judge by his life, for he had "seven hundred wives, and three hundred concubines;" and although he says that, "as a jewel ofgold in a swine's snout, so is a fair woman that is withoutdiscretion"--a very strong comparison--we may be sure that he had agreat many of these despicable creatures domiciled in his own palace. 

Solomon's strictures with regard to money may also be regarded as ofsomewhat uncertain value:--"How much better is it to get wisdom thangold, " sounds very well, although Solomon must have known that many menwould prefer the latter, and history seems to say that he was not aversefrom it himself. "He that is despised and hath a servant is better thanhe that honoureth himself, and lacketh bread, " shows at least someappreciation of the usefulness of wealth. Ecclesiastes makes a moredecided statement. "Money answereth all things. " I should imagineSolomon was as much alive to the two sides of the question, as was theGreek who on being asked scoffingly "why philosophers followed rich men, but rich men never followed philosophers, " replied, "Becausephilosophers know what they want, but rich men do not. "

In one place Solomon shows his consciousness that his proverbs may beviewed as true or false. He gives two opposite propositions--"Answer nota fool according to his folly, lest thou also be like unto him, " and, "Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his ownconceit. " Shortly afterwards, he observes, as if the idea of pervertingand turning proverbs was in his mind, "The legs of a lame man are notequal, so is a parable in the mouth of fools. "

There was another form besides that of Proverbs, in which duringearlier ages moral and political teachings were expressed. One of thefirst comparisons man learned to draw was that between himself and thelower animals; and the separation between reason and instinct would notappear to be at first so clearly defined as it is at present. Before thegrowth of cities, and the increased intercourse and accumulatedexperience resulting from their formation, the mental development of manwas so small as not to offer any very strong contrast to the sagacity ofother animals. The greatest men of ancient times were merely nomadchiefs living on the wild pasture plains, often tending their ownflocks, and, no doubt, like the Arabs of the present day, makingcompanions of their camels and horses. By the rivers and in the jungles, they often encountered beasts of prey, became familiar with theirhabits, and formed a higher opinion of their intelligence than wegenerally hold. At that time, when strength was more esteemed thanintellectual gifts, there was sometimes a tendency to consider them asrather above than below the human race. The lion, the eagle, and thestag possessed qualities to which it was man's highest ambition toaspire, and, in some cases, he even went so far as to worship them. Inthe ancient civilisation of Egypt we find the most numerous traces ofthis culture and feeling--gods, kings, rulers, and disembodied spiritsbeing represented entirely or partially under the forms of what we callthe lower animals. The strange allegorical figures found at Nineveh mayalso be considered illustrations in point. There was evidently nocaricature intended in these representations, and it is worthy of noticethat such as are grotesque are not earlier than Roman times. 

It is unnecessary to recapitulate the beautiful comparisons of thischaracter which are profusely scattered through Holy Writ, but we shouldespecially notice the blessing given by Jacob to his sons on hisdeath-bed; in which we seem almost to discover the first origin ofheraldry. Another remarkable comparison is that of Nathan, aptly made, and likely to sink with weight into the heart of the Shepherd-King. Thesame respect for animals survived in the time of the earliest Greekwriters. 

Homer in his solemn epic has numerous instances of it:--Hector in"Iliad" xi, 297, is setting the Trojans on "like dogs at a wild boar orlion. " In xi, 557, Ajax retreating slowly from the Trojans is comparedto an ass who has gone to feed in a field, and whom the boys find greatdifficulty in driving out, "though they belabour him well with cudgels. "Agamemnon is compared to a bull, Sarpedon and Patroclus in deadlycombat to two vultures, and Diomed and Ulysses pursue Dolon as two fleethounds chase a hare. All these were evidently intended to be mostpoetical, if not elevating similes; their dignity would have been lostcould they possibly have been regarded as humorous. 

Simonides of Amorgos in the seventh century B. C. , is remarkablefor this kind of illustration. After some lamentations about human life, he observes that nothing is better than a good wife, or worse than a badone, and he proceeds to compare women to various animals. He is alsoevidently very serious over the subject, and regards it as no joke atall. Perhaps there was also something to be said on the other side, forhe remarks that a gadding wife cannot be cured, even if you "knock outher teeth with a stone. " He likens them to pigs and polecats, horsesand apes; and only praises the descendant of the bee. In a passageundoubtedly of early date, and attributed to Xenophanes, the founder ofthe Eleatic school of philosophy, (540-500) the writer enumerates thevarious ways, in which other animals are superior to man. "If by thewill of God there were an equality and community in life, so that theherald of the Olympian games should not only call men to the contest, but also bid all animals to come, no man would carry off a prize; forin the long race the horse would be the best; the hare would win theshort race; the deer would be best in the double race. No man'sfleetness would count for anything, and no one since Hercules would seemto have been stronger than the elephant or lion; the bull would carryoff the crown in striking, and the ass in kicking, and history wouldrecord that an ass conquered men in wrestling and boxing. "

But the light in which the lower animals were regarded, produced otherfanciful combinations. Not only were men given the attributes ofanimals, but animals were endowed with the gifts peculiar to man. Allthings were then possible. Standing as he seemed in the centre of aplain of indefinite or interminable extent, how could any man limit theproductions or vagaries of Nature, even if he possessed far more thanthe narrow experience of those days? Moreover, the boundary lines werevague between the natural and supernatural, and the latter was supposedto be constantly interposing in the ordinary affairs of life. Amongother beliefs then prevalent, was one in the existence of a kind of halfnature, such as that in Centaurs, dragons, and griffins. In the Assyriancuneiform inscriptions lately deciphered, we read, of one Heabani, asemi-bovine hermit, supposed to have lived 2, 200 B. C. Thus theaccounts in Scripture of the serpent accosting Eve, and of Balaamarguing with his ass, would not have seemed so remarkable then as theydo to us. In an Egyptian novel--the oldest extant, cir. 1, 400B. C. --a cow tells Bata that his elder brother is standingbefore him with his dagger ready to kill him. He understood, we aretold, the language of animals, and was afterwards transformed into abull. Greek tradition as recorded by Plato, Xenophon, Babrius, andothers, speaks of an early golden age in which men and animals heldcolloquies together "as in our fables;" whence we should conclude thismuch--that there was a time when poets very commonly introduced them asholding conversations, and when philosophers illustrated their doctrinesfrom the animal world. 

The fable, we are told, was "an invention of ancient Assyrian men in thedays of Ninus and Belus, " and in confirmation of its Eastern origin, wemay observe that the apologues of Lokman are of Indian derivation. He issupposed, by Arabian writers, to have been either a nephew of Abraham orJob, or a counsellor of David or Solomon. 

The first specimen we have of an ordinary fable, _i. E. _, of one in whichthe interlocutors are lower animals, is found in Hesiod, who is placedabout a century after Homer. It runs thus:--

"Now I will tell the kings a fable, which they will understand ofthemselves. Thus spake the hawk to the nightingale, whom he was carryingin his talons high in air, 'Foolish creature! why dost thou cry out? Onemuch stronger than thou hath seized thee, though thou art a songster. Ican tear thee to pieces, or let thee go at my pleasure. '"

But fables do not come fully under our view until they are connectedwith the name of Æsop, who is said to have introduced them into Greece. In general his fables pretend to nothing more than an illustration ofproverbial wisdom, but in some cases they proceed a step farther, andshow the losses and disappointments which result from a neglect ofprudent considerations. It cannot be denied that there is somethingfanciful and amusing in these fables, still there is not much in them toexcite laughter--they are not sufficiently direct or pungent for that. The losses or disappointments mentioned, or implied, give a certainexercise to the feelings of opposition in the human breast, and if theyare supposed to be such as could not easily have been foreseen, weshould regard the narratives as humorous. But this is scarcely thecase; the mishaps arise simply and directly from the situations, andare related with a view to the inculcation of truth, rather than theexhibition of error. Hence the basis is different from that in genuinehumour, and the complication is small. Still the object evidently was toallure men into the paths of wisdom through the pleasure grounds ofimagination. 

Addison has justly observed that fables were the first kind of humour. As the days of Athenian civilization advanced, their light chaff wasthought more of than their solid matter. Two hundred years of progressin man caused the animals to be truly considered "lower, " naturaldistinctions were better appreciated, and there seemed to be somethingabsurd in the idea of their thinking or talking. Hence Æsop's fables arespoken of by Aristophanes as something laughable, and the fabulist cameto be regarded as a humorist. This feeling gained ground so muchafterwards that Lucian makes Æsop act the part of a buffoon in "TheIsles of the Blessed. " Such views no doubt influenced the traditionswith regard to the condition and characteristics of their composer. There was the more field for this, inasmuch as even the fables were onlyhanded down orally. Some biographer, formerly supposed to have beenPlanudes the monk, seems to have fertilized with his own inventivegenius many tales which had themselves no better foundation than theconjectures derived from the tone and nature of the fables. Æsop wasrepresented as droll, as a sort of wit, and by a development of theconnection in the mind between humour and the ludicrous, they gave himan infirm body, hesitating speech, and servile condition. Improving thestory, they said his figure frightened the servants of the merchant whobought him. At the same time many clever tricks and speeches wereattributed to him. What we really glean from such stories is, thatanimal fables soon came to be regarded as humorous. It is probable thatsome fabulist of the name of Æsop at one time existed, but we knownothing with certainty about his life, and many of the fables attributedto him were perhaps of older date. 

The advance in the direction of humour, which was manifested in Æsop'sfictions, was also found in the opulent Ionian Sybaris. This city, situated on the lovely Bay of Tarentum, was now at the height of itsfame, the acknowledged centre of Greek luxury and civilization. Areflection of oriental splendour seems to have been cast upon it, and weread of all kinds of extravagant and curious arrangements for theindulgence of ease and indolence. Amid all this luxury and leisure, fancy was not unemployed. We find that, like the former leaders offashion in this country, they kept a goodly train of monkeys, [6] andanticipated our circus performances by teaching their horses to dance ontheir hind legs, an advance above practical joking and below pictorialcaricature. Moreover, intellectual entertainment was required at theirsumptuous feasts, and genius was tasked to find something light andracy, maxims of deep significance interwoven with gay and fancifulcreations. There was not sufficient subtlety about these inventions toentitle them to the name of humour in our modern sense of the word; muchcomplication was not then required, nor much laughter expected. The"fables" of Sybaris seem to have been of a similarly philosophical castto those of Æsop. The following specimen is given in the Vespæ, 1427. 

"A man of Sybaris fell from a chariot, and, as it happened, had his headbroken--for he was not well acquainted with driving--and a friend whostood by, said, 'Let every man practise the craft, which heunderstands. '"

We observe that these fables are not carried on through the assistanceof our four-footed friends. At Sybaris, conversation between men and thelower animals had begun to appear not only absurd, but to be improvedupon and made with the evident intention of being humorous. Hence, inanimate things were sometimes made to speak, and in succeedingfictions birds and beasts were given such special characteristics andrequirements of men as could least have belonged to them. As an exampleof this, we may refer to the Batrachomyomachia--a production calledHomeric but proved by the very length of its name to belong to a laterdate. It is ascribed by Plutarch to Pigres, the brother of theHalicarnassian Queen, Artemisia, contemporary with the Persian War. Thispoem, which is a parody on Homer, reminds us, in its microscopicrepresentation of human affairs, of the travels of Gulliver in Lilliput. A frog offers to give a mouse a ride across the water on his back. Unfortunately, a water-snake lifts up its head when they are in themiddle passage, and the frog diving to avoid the danger, the mouse isdrowned. From this trifling cause there arises a mighty war between thefrogs and the mice. The contest is carried on in true Homeric style; themice-warriors are armed with bean-pods for greaves, lamp-bosses forshields, nutshells for helmets, and long needles for spears. The frogshave leaves of willow on their legs, cabbage leaves for shields, cockle-shells for helmets, and bulrushes for spears. Their names aresuggestive, as in a modern pantomime. Among the mice we haveCrumb-stealer, Cheese-scooper, and Lick-dish; among the frogs, Puff-cheeks, Loud-croaker, Muddyman, Lovemarsh, &c. 

PART II. 

GREEK HUMOUR. 

Birth of Humour--Personalities--Story of Hippocleides--Origin of Comedy--Archilochus--Hipponax--Democritus, the Laughing Philosopher--Aristophanes--Humour of the Senses--Indelicacy--Enfeeblement of the Drama--Humorous Games--Parasites, their Position and Jests--Philoxenus--Diogenes--Court of Humour--Riddles--Silli. 

There is every reason to suppose that a very considerable period elapsedbefore any progress was made in advance of the ludicrous, but at lengthby those who appreciated it strongly, and saw it in things in which itdid not appear to others, humorous devices were invented from a growingdesire to multiply the occasions for enjoyment. Observation and ourpower of imitation provided the means, and men of humour employedthemselves in reproducing some ludicrous situations; and thus, insteadof things derided being as previously wholly separate from those whoderided them, a man could laugh, and yet be the cause of laughter toothers. This discovery was soon improved upon, and by aid of imaginationand memory, as opportunities offered, certain connections andappearances were represented under a great variety of forms. As the mindenlarged, the exciting causes of laughter were not mainly physical oremotional, but assumed a higher and more rational character. 

At the period at which we have now arrived, we find humour dawningthrough various channels. We have traced approximations towards it inproverbs and fables, and, in a coarse form, in practical jokes; and asfrom historical evidences we are ready to admit that civilization had anEastern origin, so we shall feel little difficulty in assigning Greeceas the birthplace of humour. A greater activity of mind now begins toprevail, reflection has gradually given distinctness to emotion, and theludicrous is not only recognised as a source of pleasure, butintentionally represented in literature. 

Before the time of Æsop, though not perhaps of his fables, Homer relateda few laughable occurrences of so simple a character as to requirelittle ingenuity. In this respect he is not much better than a man whorecounts some absurd incident he has witnessed without adding sufficientto it to show that he has a humorous imagination. His mirth, exceptwhen merely that of pleasure, is of the old hostile character. In Iliad, xi, 378, Paris, having hit Diomed, from behind a pillar with an arrow inthe foot, springs forth from his concealment and laughs at him, sayinghe wished he had killed him. In Iliad, xxi, 407, where the gods descendinto the battle, Minerva laughs at Mars when she has struck him with ahuge stone so that he fell, his hair was draggled in the dust, and hisarmour clanged around him. In the Odyssey, Ulysses speaks of his heartlaughing within him after he had put out Polyphemus' eye with a burningstick without being discovered. And in Book xviii, Ulysses strikes Irusunder the ear and breaks his head, so that blood pours from his mouth, and he falls gnashing and struggling on the ground, at which, we aretold, the suitors "die with laughter. "

From this hostile phase the transition was easy to ridiculing personaldefects, and so Homer tells us that when the gods at their banquet sawVulcan, who was acting as butler, "stumping about on his lame leg, " theyfell into "unextinguishable laughter. "

Thersites is described as "squint-eyed, lame-legged, with bent shoulderspinched over his chest, a pointed head, and very little hair on it. "Homer may merely have intended to represent the reviler of kings asodious and despicable, but there seems to be some humour intended. Ridicule of personal defects must always be of an inferior kind, being amatter of sight, and of small complexity. As the first advance of theludicrous was from the hostile to the personal, so the beginning ofhumour seems to have been the representation of personal defects. [7]

In accordance with this, we find that the only mention of laughter madeby Simonides of Amorgos is where he says that some women may be comparedto apes, and then gives a very rude description of their persons. Thissubservience to the eye can also be observed in the appreciation ofmonkeys and dancing horses, already mentioned, the latter forming ahumorous exhibition, as the animals were trained with a view to amuse. We have marks of the same optical tendencies in the appreciation ofantics and contortions of the body, either as representing personaldeformity, or as a kind of puzzling and disorderly action. A littlecontemporary story related by Herodotus shows that these pantomimicperformances were now becoming fashionable in Athens. Cleisthenes, tyrant of Sicyon, was even at this date so much in favour of competitiveexaminations, that he determined to give his daughter to the mostproficient and accomplished man. On the appointed day the suitors cameto the examination from every quarter, for the fair Agariste was heiressto great possessions. Among them was one Hippocleides, an Athenian, whoproved himself far superior to all the rest in music and dissertation. Afterwards, when the trial was over, desiring to indulge his feelings oftriumph and show his skill, he called for a piper, and then for a table, upon which he danced, finishing up by standing on his head and kickinghis legs about. Cleisthenes, who was apparently one of the "old school, "and did not appreciate the manners and customs of young Athens, was muchoffended by this undignified performance of his would-be son-in-law, andwhen he at last saw him standing on his head, could no longer containhimself, but cried out, "Son of Tisander, thou hast danced away thymarriage. " To which the other replied with characteristic unconcern:"It's all the same to Hippocleides, "--an expression which becameproverbial. In this story we see the new conception of humour, thoughof a rude kind, coming into collision with the old philosophic contestsof ingenuity, which it was destined to survive if not to supersede. 

We have another curious instance about this date of an earnest-mindedman being above the humour of the day, (which, no doubt, consistedprincipally of gesticulation), and he was probably voted an unsociable, old-fashioned fellow. Anacharsis, the great Scythian philosopher, whenjesters were introduced into his company maintained his gravity, butwhen afterwards a monkey was brought in, he burst into a fit oflaughter, and said, "Now this is laughable by Nature; the other by Art. "That amusement should be thus excited by natural objects denotes a veryeccentric or primitive perception of the ludicrous, seldom now foundamong mature persons, but it is such as Diodorus, quoting no doubt fromearlier histories, attributed to Osiris--"to whom, " he says, "when inEthiopia, they brought Satyrs, (who have hair on their backs, ) for hewas fond of what was laughable. "

But a further development of humour was in progress. As people were atthat time easily induced to regard sufferings as ludicrous, the ideasuggested itself of creating mirth by administering punishment, or byindulging in threats and gross aspersions. A very slight amount ofinvention or complexity was here necessary. The origin of the comicdrama furnishes an illustration of this. It commenced in the harvesthomes of Greece and Sicily--in the festivals of the grape-gatherers atthe completion of the vintage. They paraded the villages, crowned withvine-leaves, carrying poles and branches, and smeared with the juice ofgrapes. Their aim was to provoke general merriment by dancing, singing, and grotesque attitudes, and by giving rein to their coarse andpugnacious propensities. Spectators and passers by were assailed withinvectives, pelted with missiles, and treated to all that hostile humourwhich is associated with practical joking. So vile was their languageand conduct that "comedy" came to signify abuse and vilification. As thetaste for music and rhythm became general in that sunny clime, eventhese rioters adopted a kind of verse, by which rustic genius could giveadditional point to scurrility. Thus arose the Iambic measure used atthe festivals of Ceres and Bacchus, and afterwards fabled to have beeninvented by Iambe, the daughter of the King of Eleusis. Hence, also, came the jesting used in celebrating the rites of Ceres in Sicily, andthe custom for people to post themselves on the bridge leading toEleusis in Attica, and to banter and abuse those going to the festivals. The story of Iambe only marks the rural origin of the metre, and itsconnection with Ceres, the Goddess of Harvest. Eleusis was her chosenabode, and next in her favour was Paros; and here we accordingly findthe first improvement made upon these uncouth and virulent effusions. About the commencement of the 7th century, Archilochus, a native of thisplace, harnessed his ribaldries better, and put them into a "light horsegallop. " He raised the Iambic style and metre so as to obtain theunenviable notoriety of having been the first to dip his pen in viper'sgall. Good cause had he for his complaints, for a young lady's father, one Lycambes, refused to give him his daughter's hand. There wasapparently some difficulty about the marriage gifts--the poet havingnothing to give but himself. Rejected, he took to writing defamatoryverses on Lycambes and his daughters, and composed them with so muchskill and point that the whole family hanged themselves. Allusions, which led to such a catastrophe, could not now be regarded aspleasantries; but at that time he obtained a high reputation, andperhaps the suicide of the wretched Lycambes was considered the bestjoke of all. [8] The fragments which remain to us of Archilochus'productions seem melancholy enough, and the only place where he speaksof laughter is where he calls Charilaus "a thing to be laughed at, "--anexpression which would seem to point to some personal deformity--we aretold, however, by later writers, that he was a glutton. In anotherremaining passage Archilochus says that "he is not fond of a tallgeneral walking with his legs apart, with his hair carefully arranged, and his chin well shaven;" where we still detect the same kind ofcaricature, and in default of any adequate specimen of his "gall, " wemay perhaps be excused for borrowing an illustration from Alcæus, wholived slightly later; and who, speaking of his political opponentPittacus, calls him a "bloated paunch-belly, " and a "filthysplay-footed, crack-footed, night fellow. "

Archilochus lived in the fable age, and the most perfect of the smallfragments remaining of his works are of that allegorical description. But he may be regarded as a representative of the dull and bitter humourof his time--a large proportion of which, as in his writings, and thoseof Simonides and Hesiod, was ungallantly directed against the "girls ofthe period. "[9]

But Archilochus' humour, though rude and simple, opened a new mine ofwealth, and if it was not at first very rich, it was enough to indicatethe golden treasure beneath. Sonorous narratives about heroes anddemi-gods were to be gradually supplanted by the bright contrasts ofreal life. Archilochus' ingenuity had introduced light metres suited forflippant and pointed allusions. The conceit was generally approved, andthough the new form could not exactly be called humorous, it occurred toHipponax, in the next century, that he could make it so by a slightalteration. Perhaps this "Father of Parody" intended to mimicArchilochus; at any rate, by means of a change in termination, hemanufactured "limping" Iambics. We must suppose that he producedsomething better than this, but look in vain into his lines for anyinstances of real pungency. He was a sort of Greek Samson, his bestjokes seem to have been connected with great strength, and to judge fromwhat remains of his works, we should conclude that he was more justlyfamous for "tossing an oil cruise" than for producing anything which weshould call humour. But, were we asked whether in that age his sayingswould have been amusing, we may reply in the affirmative; they certainlyhad severity, for his figure having been caricatured by the sculptors ofChios, Bupalus and Anthermus, he repaid them so well in their own coin, that they also duly hanged themselves. It must be admitted that the factof the same kind of death having been chosen by them, and by the objectsof Archilochus' derision, does not increase greatly the credibility ofthe stories. 

We now come to consider what we may call a serious source of humour. Already we have noticed the tendency in ancient times to exercises ofingenuity in answering hard questions. These led to deeper thought, tothe aphoristic wisdom of the seven wise men, and the speculations ofthose who were in due time to raise laughter at the follies of mankind. 

This introduces the era of the philosophers--a remarkable class of men, who grew up in the mercurial atmosphere of Greece. One of the mostdistinguished of them was Democritus, born 460 B. C. He came ofnoble descent, and belonged to so wealthy a family of Abdera that hisfather was able to entertain Xerxes on his return to Asia. The King leftsome Chaldean Magi to instruct his son, who, early in life, evinced agreat desire for the acquisition of knowledge, and after studying underLeucippus, travelled to Egypt, Persia, and Babylon. He almost seemed acompound of two different characters, uniting the intellectual energy ofthe sage with the social feelings of a man of the world. Living in easeand opulence, he was not inclined to be censorious or morose; havingmingled much in society, he was not very emotional or sympathetic; nottempted to think life a melancholy scene of suffering, but callousenough to find amusement in the ills he could not prevent. He regardedman, generally, as a curious study, as remarkable for not exercising theintellect with which he was endowed--not so much from censurable causesas from some obliquity in mental vision. Not that he regarded him asunaccountable--a fool in the ordinary acceptation of the word, is alwaysa responsible being, and not synonymous with an idiot. 

The humour of this laughing sage, grounded upon deep philosophy, was solittle understood in his day that none were able to join in hismerriment, nor did he expect that they should be; if he was humorous tohimself, he was not so, and did not aim at being so, to others. On thecontrary, he was thought to be mad, and Hippocrates was directed toinquire into his disorder, but the learned physician returned answerthat not he, but his opponents were deranged. Whether this story be afabrication or not, we may regard it as a testimony that wise men sawmuch truth in his philosophy. Montaigne, in his Essay on Democritus andHeraclitus, gives his preference to the former, "Because, " he observes, "men are more to be laughed at than hated, " showing that he regarded himas imputing folly to men rather than vice. 

Even Socrates, whom we are accustomed to regard as the most earnest ofphilosophers was by no means a melancholy man. Fully aware of theinfluence exercised by humour, he often put his teachings into anindirect form, and he seems to have first thus generally attractedattention. He introduced what is called irony[10]--the using expressionswhich literally mean exactly the opposite to what is intended. A man maybe either praised or blamed in this way, but Socrates' intention wasalways sarcastic. He put questions to men, as if merely desiring someinformation they could easily give him, while he knew that his inquiriescould not be answered, without overthrowing the theories of those headdressed. Thus, he gave instruction whilst he seemed to solicit it. Invarious other ways he enlivened and recommended his doctrines byhumorous illustration. It is said that he even went to the theatre tosee himself caricatured, laughed as heartily as any, and stood up toshow the audience how correctly his ill-favoured countenance had beenreproduced. This story may be questioned, and it has been observed thathe was not insensible to ridicule, for he said shortly before his deaththat no one would deride him any longer. We are told that he spent someof his last days in versifying the fables of Æsop. 

We now return from theoretical to practical life, from the philosophersto the public. Nothing exhibits more forcibly the variable character ofhumour than that, while philosophers in their "thinking shops" werelaughing at the follies of the world, the populace in the theatre wereshaking their sides at the absurdities of sages. Ordinary men did notappreciate abstract views, nor understand abstruse philosophic humour, indeed it died out almost as soon as it appeared, and was onlycontemporary with a certain epoch in the mental history of Greece. Everypopular man is to a great extent a reflection of the age in which helives, "a boat borne up by a billow;" and what, in this respect is truegenerally, is especially so with regard to the humorist, who seeks apresent reward, and must be in unison with the characters of those hehas to amuse. He depends much on hitting the current fancies of men bysmall and subtle allusions, and he must have a natural perception offitness, of the direction in which he must go, and the limits he mustnot transgress. The literature of an epoch exhibits the taste of thereaders, as well as that of the authors. 

We shall thus be prepared to find that the mind of Aristophanes, although his views were aristocratic, harmonized in tone with that ofthe people, and that his humour bears the stamp of the ancient era inwhich he lived. The illustrations from the animal world in which heconstantly indulges remind us of the conceits of old times, whenmarvellous stories were as much admired as the monstrous figures uponthe Persian tapestry. Would any man at the present day produce comedieswith such names as "The Wasps, " "The Frogs, " and "The Birds. "[11] But wehere meet with our feathered and four-footed companions at every corner. The building of the bird's city is a good illustration of this. Thirtythousand cranes brought stones for the foundations from Libya, and tenthousand storks made bricks, the ducks with aprons on carried thebricks, and the swallows flew with trowels behind them like little boys, and with mortar in their beaks. 

We also notice in Aristophanes a simple and rude form of the ludicrous, scarcely to be called humour, much in favour with his immediatepredecessors. I refer to throwing fruits and sweatmeats among theaudience. Trygæus (Vintner), celebrating a joyous country festival inhonour of the return of peace and plenty, takes occasion to throw barleyamong the spectators. In another place Dicæpolis, also upon pacificdeeds intent, establishes a public treat, and calls out, "Let some onebring in figs for the little pigs. How they squeak! will they eat them?(throws some) Bless me! how they do munch them! from what place do theycome? I should say from Eaton. "

In this scrambling fun there would be good and bad fortune, and muchlaughter would be occasioned, but mostly of an emotional character. Someof the jokes of Hegemon, who first introduced dramatic parody, were of asimilar description, but more unpleasant. On one occasion he came intothe theatre with his robe full of stones, and began to throw them intothe orchestra, saying, "These are stones, and let those who will throwthem. " Aristophanes makes great use of that humour which is dependentupon awakening hostile and combative feelings. Personal violence andthreats are with him common stage devices. We have here as much "fistsauce, " and shaking of sticks, and as many pommellings, boxings of ears, and threats of assault and battery as in any modern harlequinade. 

Next in order, we come to consider some of the many instances inAristophanes of what may be called optical humour--that in which thepoint principally depends upon the eye. Thus he makes Hercules say hecannot restrain his laughter on seeing Bacchus wearing a lion's skinover a saffron robe. A Megarian reduced to extremities, determines tosell his little daughters as pigs, and disguises them accordingly. [12]In the Thesmophoriazusæ, there is a shaving scene, in which the manperformed upon has his face cut, and runs away, "looking ridiculous withonly one side of his face shaven. " In another play where the ladies havestolen the gentlemen's clothes, the latter come on the stage in themost ludicrous attire, wearing saffron-coloured robes, kerchiefs, andPersian slippers. In another, the chorus is composed of men representingwasps, with waists pinched in, bodies striped with black and yellow, andlong stings behind. The piece ends with three boys disguised as crabs, dancing a furious breakdown, while the chorus encourages them with, "Come now, let us all make room for them, that they may twirl themselvesabout. Come, oh famous offsprings of your briny father!--skip along thesandy shore of the barren sea, ye brothers of shrimps. Twirl, whirlround your foot swiftly, and fling up your heels in the air likePhrynicus, until the spectators shout aloud! Spin like a top, pass alongin circle, punch yourself in the stomach, and fling your leg to the sky, for the King himself, who rules the sea, approaches, delighted with hischildren!"

The greater the optical element in humour, the lower and more simple itbecomes, the complexity being more that of the senses than of intellect. It may be said there is always some appeal to both, but not in any equalproportions, and there is manifestly a great difference between thehumour of a plough-boy grinning through a horse-collar, and of a sageobserving that "when the poor man makes the rich a present, he isunkind to him. " Caricature drawings produce little effect upon educatedpeople, unless assisted by a description on which the humour largelydepends. We can see in a picture that a man has a grotesque figure, oris made to represent some other animal; by gesticulation we canunderstand when a person is angry or pleased, or hungry or thirsty; butwhat we gain merely through the senses is not so very far superior tothat which is obtained by savages or even the lower animals, exceptwhere there has been special education. 

Next to optical humour may be placed acoustic--that of sound--anotherinferior kind. The ear gives less information than the eye. In musicthere is not so much conveyed to the mind as in painting, and althoughit may be lively, it cannot in itself be humorous. We cannot judge ofthe range of hearing by the vast store of information brought by wordswritten or spoken, because these are conventional signs, and have nooptical or acoustic connection with the thing signified. We canunderstand this when we listen to a foreign language. 

Hipponax seems to have been the first man who introduced acoustic humourby the abrupt variation in his metre. Exclamations and strange soundswere found very effective on the stage, and were now frequentlyintroduced, especially emanating from slaves to amuse the audience. Aristophanes commences the knights with a howling duet between twoslaves who have been flogged, "Oh, oh--Oh, oh--Oh, oh--Oh, oh--"

In another play, there is a constant chorus of frogs croaking from theinfernal marshes. 

"Brekekekex, coax, coax, brekekekex, coax, coax. "

In "The Birds, " the songsters of the woods are frequently heard trillingtheir lays. As they were only befeathered men, this must have been asomewhat comic performance. The king of birds, transformed from Tereus, King of Thrace, twitters in the following style. 

"Epopopopopopopopopopoi! io! io! come, come, come, come, come. Tio, tio, tio, tio, tio, tio, tio! trioto, trioto, totobrix! Torotorotorotorolix!Ciccabau, ciccabau! Torotorotorotorotililix. "

Rapidity of utterance was also aimed at in some parts of the choruses, and sometimes very long words had to be pronounced without pause--suchas green-grocery-market-woman, and garlic-bread-selling-hostesses. Atthe end of the Ecclesiazusæ, there is a word of twenty-sevensyllables--a receipt for a mixture--as multifarious in its contents as aYorkshire pie. 

We may conclude that there was a humour in tone as well as of rhythm infashion before the time of Aristophanes, and we read that there was acertain ventriloquist named Eurycles; but Aristophanes must be contentto bear the reproach of having been the first to introduce punning. Heprobably had accomplices among his contemporaries, but they have beenlost in obscurity. Playing with words seems to have commenced veryearly. The organs of speech are not able to produce any great number ofentirely different sounds, as is proved by the paucity of the vowels andconsonants we possess. To increase the vocabulary, syllables are groupedtogether by rapid utterance, and distinctions of time were made. Similarities in the length and flow of words began soon to be noticed, and hence arose the idea of parallelism, that is of poetry--a similarityof measure. A likeness in the tone of words, in the vowel and consonantsounds, was afterwards observed, and became the foundation of punning. The difference between rhythm and puns is partly that of degree--and thelatter were originally regarded as poetical. Simonides of Ceos calledJupiter Aristarchus, _i. E. _, the best of rulers; and Æschylus spoke ofHelen as a "hell, "[13] but neither of them intended to be facetious. Aristotle ranked such conceits among the ornaments of style; and we donot until much later times find them regarded as ludicrous. 

With Aristophanes they are humorous, and his ingenuity in representingthings as the same because their names were so, would not have beenunworthy of a modern burlesque writer. They, perhaps, were moreappreciated at that time from their appearing less common and lesseasily made. But there is a worse direction than any above mentioned, inwhich Aristophanes truckled to the low taste of his day. The modernreader is shocked and astounded at the immense amount of indelicacycontained in his works. It ranges from the mild impropriety of sayingthat a girl dances as nimbly as a flea in a sheepskin, or of namingthose other industrious little creatures he euphemistically calls"Corinthians, " to a grand exhibition of the blessings of Peace under theform of a young lady, the liberal display of whose charms would havepetrified a modern Chamberlain. In one place, Trygæus is riding toheaven on a dung-beetle, and of course a large fund of amusement isobtained from the literal and metaphorical manipulation of its food. Socrates' disciples are discovered in a kneeling posture, with theirheads on the ground. "What are they doing?" inquires the visitor. "Theyare in search of things below the earth. " "And why are their backs up inthe air?" "With them they are studying astronomy. "

These passages will give some faint idea, though not an adequate one, ofthe coarseness of Aristophanes' humour. The primitive character of it ismarked by the fact that the greater portion has no reference to thesexes. 

It is a crumb of comfort to know that women were not generally presentat performances of comedies, and Aristotle says that young men shouldnot be allowed to attend them until they are old enough to sit at tableand get drunk. Moreover, to be humorous the comedian must necessarilyhave exceeded the bounds of ordinary usage. Aristophanes occasionallydeplores the degeneracy of his times, --the youth of the period making"rude jests, " but his own writings are the principal evidence of thisdepravity. His allusions are not excusable on the ground of ignorance;they are intentionally impure. There was once an age of innocence--stillreflected in childhood, and among some unprogressive races--in which asort of natural darkness hung over the thoughts and actions of men, --butit was in reality an age of ignorance. When light broke forth delicacysprang up, and when by degrees one thing after another had beenforbidden and veiled from sight by the common consent of society, therewas a large borderland formed outside immorality upon which thetrespasser could enter and sport; and much could be said which wasobjectionable without giving serious offence. Before the days ofAristophanes and the comic performances for which he wrote, very littlegenius or enterprise was directed into the paths of humour, but nowevery part of them was explored. Indelicacy would here afford greatassistance, from the attraction it possesses for many people and theease with which it is understood. Something perhaps is due to the factthat Greece had now reached the highest point of her prosperity, andthat a certain amount of lawlessness prevailed as her brilliancy beganto tremble and fade. From whatever cause it arose, Aristophanes standsbefore us as one of the first to introduce this base ornamentation. Themost remarkable circumstance connected with it is that he assigns alarge part of his coarse language to women. His object was to amuse anot very refined audience, and one that relished somethingpreposterous. 

Thus Aristophanes lowered his style to the level of his audience, but inhis brighter moments, forgetting his failings and exigencies, he disownsexpedients unworthy of the comic art. He says he has not like"Phrynicus, Lycis, and Amisias" introduced slaves groaning beneath theirburdens, or yelping from their stripes; he comes away, "a year olderfrom hearing such stage tricks. " "It is not becoming, " he observes inanother place for a dramatic poet to throw figs and sweetmeats to thespectators to force a laugh, and "we have not two slaves throwing nutsfrom a basket. " In _his_ plays "the old man does not belabour the personnext him with a stick. " He claims that he has made his rivals give upscoffing at rags and lice, and that he does not indulge in what I havetermed optical humour. He has not, like some of his contemporaries, "jeered at the bald head, " and not danced the Cordax. He seems in thefollowing passage even to despise animal illustrations--

 _Bdelycleon. _ Tell me no fables, but domestic stories about men. 

 _Philocleon. _ Then I know that very domestic story, "Once on a time there was a mouse and a weazel. "

 _Bdel. _ "Oh, thou lubberly and ignorant fellow, " as Theogenes said when he was abusing the scavenger. Are you going to tell a story of mice and weazels among men?

Like most humorists he blames in one place what he adopts in another. 

Plato had so high an opinion of Aristophanes that, in reply to Dionysiusof Syracuse, he sent him a copy of his plays as affording the bestpicture of the commonwealth of Athens. This philosopher is also said tohave introduced mimes--a sort of minor comedy--from Sicily, and to haveesteemed their composer Sophron so highly that he kept a copy of hisworks under his pillow. Plato appreciated humour, was fond of writinglittle amatory couplets, and among the epigrams attributed to him is thefollowing dedication of a mirror by a fading beauty, thus rendered byPrior:--

 "Venus, take this votive glass, Since I am not what I was! What I shall hereafter be, Venus, let me never see!"

Plato objected to violent laughter as indicative of an impulsive andill-regulated temper, observing "that it is not suitable for men ofworth, much less for the gods, " the first part of which remark showsthat he was not emotional, and the second that a great improvement incritical taste had taken place since the early centuries of Homer andDavid. 

As youth is romantic, and old age humorous, so in history sentimentprecedes criticism and poetry attained a high degree of excellence, while humour was in its infancy. Comedy is said to have been producedfirst in Sicily by Susarion in 564 B. C. , but we have only twoor three lines by which to judge of his work, and they are on the oldfavourite topic. "A wife is an evil, but you can't live in a housewithout one. " As it is said his wife left him, it must be considereddoubtful whether this was not meant seriously. He was succeeded byEpicharmus, whose humour seems to have been of a very poor description. His subjects were mostly mythological, and he was fond of representingthe gluttony of Hercules, and Bacchus making Vulcan drunk. In the moreintellectual direction his taste was entirely philosophical, so much sothat Plato adopted many of his views. We may safely assert that no comicperformance worthy of the name took place until towards the end of thefifth century, [14] though in the meantime the tragic drama had reachedits highest point of excellence. One _Satyric_ play, so called becausethe chorus was formed of Satyrs, was put on the stage with threetragedies by those competing for the dramatic prize. It seems to havebeen mythological and grotesque rather than comic, but in the Cyclopsof Euripides, the only specimen extant, we have feasting and winedrinking, the chorus tells Polyphemus he may swallow any milk he pleasesso that he does not swallow them--which the Cyclops says he would not dobecause they might be dancing in his stomach--and Silenus recommends theCyclops to eat Ulysses' tongue, as it will make him a clever talker. 

After the time of Aristophanes, the literary, and, we may say, thesocial humour of Greece altered. It grew less political as libertybecame more restricted, and men's minds were gradually diverted bybusiness and foreign trade from that philosophical and artisticindustry, which had made Athens the centre of the world. The brighterpart of the country's genius descended to effeminate pursuits, andemployed itself in the development of amorous fancies. In the comedieswhich came into favour, the dramatis personæ represented a strangesociety of opulent old men, spendthrift sons, intriguing slaves, andcourtezans. If we did not know what temptation there is to make literarycapital out of the tender passion, we might suppose that the youth ofthat day were entirely occupied in clandestine amours, and in buying andselling women as if they were dogs and parrots. No wonder that "to livelike the Greeks" became a by-word and reproach. Beyond this, the authorsthrow the whole force of their genius into the construction of the plot, upon the strength and intricacy of which their success depends; and themanagement of the various threads of the story so as to meet together inthe conclusion, shows a great improvement in art since the days ofAristophanes. Advancing time seems also to have brought a greaterrefinement in language. The indelicacy we now meet with is almostentirely of an amatory character, and not quite of so low a descriptionas that previously in use. But in quantity it was greater. Philemon, whois said to have died from a fit of laughter caused by seeing an ass eatfigs, wrote much that was objectionable; and Diphilus was probablylittle better. Philemon found coarseness answer, and was more oftencrowned, and a greater favourite than Menander, who is reported to havesaid to him, "Do you not blush to conquer me?" but it may be doubtedwhether even the latter was as free from indelicacy as is generallysupposed. Plautus and Terence both complain that they cannot find areally chaste Greek play. 

The age of Greek fables, that is the period when they were in common usein writing and conversation, was now drawing to a close. A few remainin Callimachus, and Suidas quotes some of perhaps the same date. At thistime Demetrius Phalareus made a prose collection of what were calledÆsop's Fables--as we seek to perpetuate the memory of that which ispassing away. Babrius, also, who performed the same charitable office in"halting iambics, " like those of Hipponax, may be supposed to haveflourished about this period, although it has been contended that he wasa Roman and lived in the Augustan age. However this may be, fabularillustrations began to drop out of fashion soon after this time, and bydegrees were so far disallowed, that the man, who would have relatedsuch stories, would have been regarded as ludicrous rather thanhumorous. Although Phædrus Romanized Æsop's Fables, and gave them apoetical meaning, he never gained any fame or popularity by them. Martial calls him "improbus, " _i. E. _, a rascal. 

In these and earlier days, besides the humour exhibited in comedies, aconsiderable amount was displayed at public festivals and privateentertainments. In the Homeric hymn to Mercury, we read that the godextemporized a song, "just as when young men at banquets slily twit eachother. " When the cups flowed, and the conversation sparkled, menindulged in repartee, or capped each other in verses. One man, forinstance, would quote or compose a line beginning and ending with acertain letter, and another person was called upon for a similar one tocomplete the couplet. Sometimes the line commenced with the firstsyllable of a word, and ended with the last, and a corresponding conceitwas to be formed to answer it. The successful competitors at these gameswere to be kissed and crowned with flowers; the unsuccessful to drink abowl of brine. These verbal devices were too simple and far-fetched tobe humorous, but were, to a certain extent, amusing, and no doubt theforfeits and rewards occasioned some merriment. 

A coarser kind of humour originated in the market-place, where professedwags of a low class were wont to congregate, and amuse themselves bychaffing and insulting passers-by. Such men are mentioned centuriesafterwards by St. Paul as "lewd fellows of the baser sort, "--anexpression which would be more properly rendered "men of themarket-place. " Such centres of trade do not seem to have been improvingto the manners, for we read of people "railing like bread-women, " and ofthe "rude jests" of the young men of the market. [15] Lysistratus wasone of these fellows in Aristophanes' days, and his condition seems tohave been as miserable as his humour, for his garment had "shed itsleaves, "[16] and he was shivering and starving "more than thirty days inthe month. "

By degrees, as wealth increased, there came a greater demand foramusement. Jesters obtained patrons, and a distinct class of men grewup, who, having more humour than means were glad to barter theirpleasantries for something more substantial. Wit has as little tendencyto enrich its possessor as genius--the mind being turned to gay and idlerather than remunerative pursuits, and into a destructive rather than aconstructive channel. Talent does not imply industry, and where thestock in trade consists of luxuries of small money value, men make but aprecarious livelihood. One of them says that he will give as a fortuneto his daughter "six hundred _bon mots_--all pure Attic, " which seems tosuggest that they were to be puns. No doubt it was the demand that ledto the supply, for jesters were in request at convivial meetings, andthe jealousy of their equally poor, but less amusing neighbours, notimprobably led to some of the ill-natured reflections upon them. Societywas to blame for encouraging the parasite, who seems to have become aninstitution in Greece. He is not mentioned by Aristophanes, but figuresconstantly in the plays of later writers, where he is a smooth-tonguedwitty varlet, whose aim is to make himself agreeable, and who is readyto submit to any humiliation in order to live at other people's expense. Thus Gelasimus--so called, as he avers, because his mother was adroll--laments the changed times. He liked the old forms of expression, "Come to dinner--make no excuse;" but now it is always, "I'd invite you, only I'm engaged myself. " In another place a parasite's stomach iscalled a "bottomless pit, " and they are said to "live on their juices"while their patrons are away in the country. Their servility was, ofcourse, exaggerated in comedy to make humorous capital, but as they werepoor and of inferior social standing to those with whom they consorted, they were sure occasionally to suffer indignities varying in proportionto the bad taste and insolence of their patrons. Thus we read that theynot only sat on benches at the lower end of the table, but sometimes hadtheir faces daubed and their ears boxed. In the ambiguous position theyoccupied, they were no doubt exposed to temptations, but we are not tosuppose that they were generally guilty of such short-sighted treacheryas that attributed to them by the dramatists. Still, they certainly werein bad repute in their generation, and hence we are enabled tounderstand Aristotle's observation that he who is deficient in humour isa boor, but he who is in culpable excess is a _bomolochos_, or thoroughscoundrel. He would connect the idea of great jocosity with unprincipleddesigns. 

Philoxenus, had a more independent spirit than most parasites, and thehistory of his sojourn in Syracuse gives us an amusing insight into thestate of Court life in Sicily 400 years B. C. He was an Atheniandithyrambic poet and musician; and as Dionysius affected literature, hewas welcomed at his palace, where he wrote a poem entitled "TheBanquet, " containing an account of the luxurious style of living thereadopted. Philoxenus was probably the least esteemed guest at thesefeasts, of which, but for him no record would survive. He was a man ofhumour, and some instances of his quaintness remain. On one occasion, when supping with the tyrant, a small mullet was placed before him, anda large one before Dionysius. He thereupon took up his fish and placedit to his ear. Dionysius asked him why he did so, to which he repliedthat he was writing a poem, called "Galatæa, " and wanted to hear somenews from the kingdom of Nereus. "The fish given to him, " he added, "knew nothing about it, because it had been caught so young; but nodoubt that set before Dionysius would know everything. " The tyrant, weare told, laughed and sent him his mullet. As might have beenanticipated, he soon greatly offended Dionysius, who actually sent himto work in the stone-quarries; but the cause of his misfortune isuncertain. Athenæus attributes it to his falling in love with afavourite "flute-girl" of Dionysius, and says that in his "Galatæa, " hecaricatured his rival as the Cyclops. According to another account, hisdisgrace was owing to his having, when asked to revise one of Dionysius'poetical compositions, crossed out the whole of it from beginning toend. He was, however, restored to favour, and seated once more at theroyal table; but, unfortunately, the tyrant had again been perpetratingpoetry, and recited some of his verses, which were loudly applauded byall the courtiers. Philoxenus was called upon to join in thecommendation, but instead of complying, he cried out to the guards, "Take me back to the quarries. " Dionysius, took the joke and pardonedhim. He afterwards left the Syracusan Court, and went to his nativeplace, Cythera; and it was characteristic of his bluntness and wit, that, on being invited by the tyrant to return, he replied by only oneletter of the alphabet signifying "NO. "

And now a most grotesque figure stands before us--it is that ofDiogenes, who was a youth at the time of Aristophanes' successes, andwas, no doubt by many, classed with those rude idlers of themarket-place of whom we have already spoken. Some people have questionedhis claim to be regarded as a philosopher. He does not appear to havebeen learned, or deeply read; but he was meditative and observant, andthat which in an anchorite, or hermit, would have been a mere sentiment, and in an ordinary man a vague and occasional reflection, expanded inhis mind into a general and practical view of life. Observing that thethings we covet are not only difficult of attainment, but unsatisfactoryin possession, he thought to solve the problem of life by substitutingcontempt for admiration. He was, probably, somewhat influenced by hisown condition in this vain attempt to draw sweetness from sour grapes. He was poor, and we find that this despiser of the goods of this world, who considered money to be the "metropolis of all evils"--in his youthcoined false money, and was banished to Sinope in consequence. Among hisrecorded sayings, he expresses his surprise that the slaves attendingat banquets could keep their hands off their master's dainties. 

But we should be doing Diogenes an injustice, if we set him down as amere discontented misanthrope. In giving due weight to unworthy motives, we have looked only at one side--and that the worst--of his character. His mind was of an inquiring speculative cast, and in youth he aspiredto join the disciples of Zeno. So persistent indeed was he that thestoic, unwilling to have such a questionable pupil, one day forgot hisserene philosophy, and set upon him with a cudgel. Such arguments didnot tend to soften Diogenes' disposition, and although he accused man offolly rather than malignity, he went so far to say that a man shouldhave "reason or a rope. " He probably thought it easier than Democritusto follow wisdom, because he did not see quite so far. Still he showedthat he took an interest in social life, and had he been less of amoralist, he would have had better claims to be regarded as a "wit" thanany other character in Grecian history. Many examples could be adducedin which his principal object was evidently to be amusing:--

Entering a school in which he saw many statues of the Muses, but fewpupils, "You have many scholars among the gods, " he said to the master. On being asked at what time it was proper to dine, "If you are rich, when you will; if poor, when you can, " he replied, perhaps a littlesadly; and to "What wine do you like to drink?" he quickly responded"Another man's. " Meeting one, Anaximenes, a very fat man, he called out, "Give us poor fellows some of your stomach; it will be a great relief toyou, and an advantage to us. "

That Diogenes recognised humour as a means of drawing attention andimpressing the memory, is shown by the story that on one occasion, whenhe was speaking seriously and found no one attending, he began toimitate the singing of birds, and when he had thus collected a crowd, told them they were ready to hear folly but not wisdom. There was also, probably, in adopting this form a desire to preclude the possibility ofhis being contradicted. He was thus proof against criticism--if hisstatements were said to be false--well, they were intended to be so;while, if they raised a laugh, there was an admission that theycontained some seeds of truth. The following are examples of hisdisguised wisdom:--

On being asked when a man should marry, "A young man not yet; an old mannot at all, " he replied. "Why men gave money to beggars and not tophilosophers?" "Because they think they may themselves become blind andlame, but never philosophers. " When Perdiccas threatened that unless hecame to him he would kill him, "You would do no great thing, " hereplied, "even a beetle or a spider could do that. "

We can scarcely suppose that all the sayings attributed to Diogenes aregenuine. There has always been a tendency to attribute to great menobservations made in accordance with their manner. 

Philosophers have generally been to a certain extent destructive, andseldom spared the religion of their times. Diogenes, who was called"Socrates gone mad, " was no exception to this rule. Humour, which isseasoned with profanity, is most telling when there is not too large anamount either of faith or scepticism; very few could find any amusementin the sneers of an utter infidel. Diogenes was almost as deficient inordinary religious belief as in most other kinds of veneration. Sometimes he may have had the good effect of checking the abuse ofsacerdotal power, as when he observed to some who were admiring thethank offerings at Samothracia, "There would have been many more, hadthose made them, who had not been cured. " He also said that theDionysian festival was a great sight for fools, and that when he heardprophets and interpreters of dreams, he thought nothing was so silly asman. His blaming men for making prayers, because they asked not thatwhich was good, but only what seemed desirable to them, may be taken ina favourable sense. 

Before the end of Diogenes' life fanciful conceits became so muchappreciated in Greece, that a regular "Court of Humour" was held atHeracleum, a village near Athens, and it is to be feared that many ofthe racy sayings attributed to eminent men, originated in the sessionsof this jocund assembly. It was composed of sixty members, and theirsayings came forth with the stamp of "The Sixty" upon them. Theirreputation became so great, that Philip of Macedon gave them a talent towrite out their jokes, and send them to him. He was himself fond ofgaiety, invented some musical instruments, and kept professed jesters. 

Soon after this time, we read of amateur jesters or rather practicaljesters called _planoi_. Chrysippus, who was not only a philosopher, buta man of humour--a union we are not surprised to find common at thatdate--and who is said, perhaps with equal truth, to have died likePhilemon in a fit of laughter, on seeing an ass eat figs off a silverplate--mentions a genius of this kind, one Pantaleon, who, when at thepoint of death told each of his sons separately that he confided to himalone the place where he had buried his gold. When he was dead, they allbetook themselves to the same spot, where they laboured for some time, before discovering that they had all been deceived. 

From this period we are mostly indebted to epigrams for any knowledge ofGreek humour. They originated in inscriptions or offerings in temples;afterwards came to be principally epitaphial or sarcastic; and grew intoa branch of literature. 

We can scarcely understand some of the fancies indulged in at the time, which contain no salt at all--"Sports, " Hephæstio calls them. Of thesedevices may be mentioned the "Wings of Love" by Simmias, a Rhodian, wholived before 300 B. C. The verses are graduated so as to form apair of wings. "The first altar, " written by Dosiadas of Rhodes, is theearliest instance of a Greek acrostic, or of any one which formed words. An acrostic is a play upon spelling, as a pun is upon sound; and in bothcases the complication is too slight for real humour. They are rather tobe considered as ingenious works of fancy. The first specimens are thosein the Psalms--twelve of which have twenty-two verses beginning with thetwenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet. The 119th Psalm is a curiousspecimen of this conceit; it is divided into twenty-two stanzas, and aletter of the alphabet in regular order begins each of them. The initialletters of "The First Altar" of Dosiadas of Rhodes, form four words, andseem to be addressed to some "Olympian, " who, the dedicator hopes "maylive to offer sacrifice for many years. " The altar states that it is notstained with the blood of victims, nor perfumed with frankincense, thatit is not made of gold and silver; but formed by the hand of the Gracesand the Muses. In the "Second Altar, " also usually attributed toDosiadas of Rhodes, we find not only a fanciful outline formed by longand short verses, but also a studious avoidance of proper names. Not oneis mentioned, although thirteen persons are designated. It is evidentthat this "Altar" was a work of ingenuity, and intended to beenigmatical. Probably the substitutions were also considered to besomewhat playful and amusing, as in Antiphanes--a comic poet, said tohave died from an apple falling on his head--we read, _A. _ Shall I speak of rosy sweat From Bacchic spring?

 _B. _ I'd rather you'd say wine. 

 _A. _ Or shall I speak of dusky dewy drops?

 _B. _ No such long periphrasis--say plainly water. 

 _A. _ Or shall I praise the cassia breathing fragrance That scents the air. 

 _B. _ No, call it myrrh. 

Another conceit in the form of a Sphinx or Pandean pipe has beenattributed to Theocritus--perhaps without good foundation. 

In the "Egg" there is not only the form of the lines, which graduallyexpand and then taper downwards, but there is also a great amount ofsimilitude--the literary egg being compared to a real egg, and the poetto the nightingale that laid it. There is also a remarkable involutionin form--the last line succeeding the first, and so on; and thisalternation of the verses is compared to the leaping of fawns. The Axeor Hatchet is apparently a sort of double axe, being nearly in the formof wings; and is supposed to be a dedicatory inscription written toMinerva on the axe of Epeus, who made the wooden horse by which Troy wastaken. 

The ancient riddles seem to have been generally of a descriptivecharacter, and not to have turned upon quibbles of words, like those ofthe present day. They more corresponded to our enigmas--beingemblematic--and in general were small tests of ingenuity, some beingvery simple, others obscure from requiring special knowledge or frombeing a mere vague description of things. Of the learned kind weredoubtless those hard questions with which the Queen of Sheba provedSolomon, and those with which, on the authority of Dius and Menander, Josephus states Solomon to have contended with Hiram. The riddle ofSamson also required special information; and the same characteristicswhich marked the early riddles of Asia, where the conceit seems to haveoriginated, is also found in those of Greece. Who could have guessed thefollowing "Griphus" from Simonides of Ceos, without local knowledge, orwith it, could have failed, "I say that he who does not like to win The grasshopper's prize, will give a mighty feast, To the Panopeiadean Epeus. "

This means, we are told, that when Simonides was at Carthea he used totrain choruses, and there was an ass to fetch water for them. He calledthe ass "Epeus, " after the water-carrier of the Atridae; and if anymember of the chorus was not present to sing, _i. E. _, to win thegrasshopper's prize, he was to give a choenix of barley to the ass. Well might Clearchus say "the investigation of riddles is notunconnected with philosophy, for the ancients used to display theirerudition in such things. "

Somewhat of the same character is found in the following fromAristophanes. 

 _People. _ How is a trireme a "dog fox?"

 _Sausage Seller. _ Because the trireme and the dog are swift. 

 _People. _ But why fox?

 _Sausage Seller. _ The soldiers are little foxes, for they eat up the grapes in the farms. 

The simplicity of some of the ancient riddles may be conjectured fromthe fact that the same word "griphus" included such conceits as versesbeginning and ending with a certain letter or syllable. 

An instance of the emblematic character of early riddles is seen in thatproposed by the Sphinx to OEdipus. "What is that which goes on fourlegs in the morning, on two in the middle of the day, and on three inthe evening?" And in the riddle of Cleobulus, one of the seven wise men:

"There was a father, and he had twelve daughters; each of his daughtershad thirty children; some were white and others black, and thoughimmortal they all taste of death. "

Also in the following griphi, which are capable of receiving more thanone answer. 

The first two are respectively by Eubulus and Alexis--writers of the"New Comedy"--who flourished in the first half of the 4th century, B. C. 

 "I know a thing, which while it's young is heavy, But when it's old, though void of wings, can fly, With lightest motion out of sight of earth. 

 "It is not mortal or immortal either But as it were compounded of the two, So that it neither lives the life of man Nor yet of god, but is incessantly New born again, and then again Of this its present life invisible, Yet it is known and recognised by all. "

From Hermippus:--

 "There are two sisters, one of whom brings forth, The other and in turn becomes her daughter. "

Diphilus, in his Theseus, says, there were once three Samian damsels, who on the day of the festival of Adonis delighted themselves withriddles. One of them proposed, "What is the strongest of all things?"Another answered, "Iron, because it is that with which men dig and cut. "The third said, "The blacksmith, for he bends and fashions the iron. "But the first replied, "Love, for it can subdue the blacksmith himself. "

The following is from Theadectes, a pupil of Isocrates, who lived about300 B. C. , and wrote fifty tragedies--none of which survive. 

 "Nothing which earth or sea produces, Nought among mortals hath so great increase. In its first birth the largest it appears, Small in its prime, and in old age again, In form and size it far surpasses all. "[17]

To make a riddle, that is a real test of ingenuity for all, and whichbut one answer satisfies, shows an advanced stage of the art. Theancient riddles were almost invariably symbolical, and either too vagueor too learned. They seem to us not to have sufficient point to behumorous, but no doubt they were thought so in their day. 

It may not be out of place here to advert to those light compositionscalled Silli, about which we have no clear information, even with regardto the meaning of the name. From the fragments of them extant, we findthat they were written in verse, and contained a considerable amount ofpoetical sentiment; indeed, all that has come down to us of Xenophanes, the first sillographer, is of this character. We are told that he usedparody, but his pleasantry, probably, consisted much of after-dinnerjests and stories, for we find that although he praises wisdom, anddespises the fashionable athletic games, he rejoiced in sumptuousbanquets, and said that the water should first be poured into the cup, then the wine. But the most celebrated sillographer was Timon thePhliasian--intimate with Antigonus and Ptolemy Philadelphus--who wrotethree books of Silli, two in dialogues, and one in continuous narrative. He was a philosopher, and the principal object of his work was to bringother sects into ridicule and discredit. A few reflections of generalapplication are scattered through it, but they are in general quitesubsidiary and suggested by the subject matter. 

PART III. 

ROMAN HUMOUR. 

Roman Comedy--Plautus--Acerbity--Terence--Satire--Lucilius--Horace--Humour of the Cæsar Family--Cicero--Augustus--Persius--Petronius--Juvenal --Martial--Epigrammatist--Lucian--Apuleius--Julian the Apostate--The Misopogon--Symposius' Enigmas--Macrobius--Hierocles and Philagrius. 

The light of genius which shone in Greece was to some extent reflectedupon Rome, where there was never an equal brilliancy. As for humour, such as was indigenous in the country, it was only represented by a fewSaturnian snatches, some Fescennine banterings at weddings andharvest-homes, and rude pantomimic performances also originating inEtruria. Intellectual pleasantry was unknown, except as an exotic, andflourished almost exclusively among those who were imbued with theliterature of Greece. 

About the date at which we arrived at the end of the last chapter--themiddle of the third century, B. C. --the first regular play wasintroduced at Rome by Livius Andronicus. He was a Greek slave, havingbeen taken prisoner at the capture of Tarentum. Scarcely anythingremains by which to judge of his writings, but we know that he copiedfrom Greek originals. His plays were, no doubt, mostly appreciated bythe better educated classes of the audience. He had a rival inNoevius, a Campanian by birth, who also copied from the Greek, butretained something of the Fescennine licence, or rather, we should say, had much of the hostile humour common to the earlier periods of Greeceand Rome. So violent were his attacks upon the leading men of the day, that he was imprisoned, and finally died in exile at Utica. This earlyconnection of comedy with abuse and buffoonery was probably one cause ofprofessional actors being held in contempt in Rome. We read that theywere frequently slaves, who were whipped if they came late. At the sametime native scurrility was allowed. Freeborn Romans might act foramusement in the Atellane plays, which were considered to be Italian, and were accompanied by broad "Exodia" or pantomimic interludescontaining regular characters such as Maccus the clown, Buccones thechatterers, Pappus the pantaloon, and Simus, the ape. But theseproductions came from Campania, and it is probable that the betterparts of them were Greek in spirit, though not in form. 

Some fifty years later brings us to Plautus--the most remarkable of theRoman comic writers. Little is known of his origin, except that he wasborn in Umbria. There is a story that at one time he was in so humble aposition that he was employed in grinding corn for a baker; but, if so, he must have possessed extraordinary ability and perseverance to acquiresuch a thorough knowledge of Greek and Latin. The fact of his adoptingthe stage as a profession, and acting in his own dramas, proves that hewas not encumbered with rank or wealth. His plays were numbered amongthe classics, and were produced upon the stage till the time ofDiocletian, five hundred years after his death; he generally copied fromthe Greek, often naming the author to whom he was indebted. 

Plautus is interesting, not only as giving us an insight into the Greekmode of life before his time, and preserving many of the works ofPhilemon, Diphilus, and others, but as being the only Latin writer ofhis date whose productions have survived. He wrote one hundred andthirty plays, of which thirty are extant, and show an orthography verydifferent from that of the Augustan age. His style was forcible, andlike that of all the Latin comic writers, highly complex. He sometimescoins words, (such as Trifurcifur, gugga, [18] parenticida, ) and he isconstantly giving new metaphorical senses to those already in use--aswhen he speaks of a man being a "hell of elms, " _i. E. _, severely floggedwith elm-rods--calls cooks "briars, " because they take fast hold ofeverything they touch, and threatens a slave with "memorials of oxen, "_i. E. _, a thrashing that will make him remember the thong. 

We may possibly trace the Greek original in a few references toconversations of animals--although no plays are now called afterthem--and the names, places, and money he introduces are generallyGreek. Still, we cannot regard him as a mere servile imitator--much ofhis own genius is doubtless preserved in the plays. In some, we canclearly recognise his hand, as where he alludes to Roman customs, orindulges in puns. For instance, where a man speaks of the blessing ofhaving children, (liberi, ) another observes he would rather be _free_(liber). In "The Churl, " we read that it is better to fight with minæthan with menaces, and a lover says that Phronesium has expelled her ownname (wisdom) from his breast. 

An old man says he has begun to go to school again, and learn hisletters. "I know three already, " he continues, "What three?" is asked, "A M O. "

While we are glad to mark an advancement in less pleasures being derivedfrom personal threats and conflicts on the stage, we are pained to findsuch an entire want of sympathy with the sufferings of those in aservile condition. The severity with which slaves were treated inprevious times was not mitigated under the Roman rule, and at thepresent day it is difficult to realise the moral state of those whocould derive amusement from hearing men threatened with bull-hidings, and flogged on the stage. Such terms as "whip-knave" became stale fromrepetition, and so many jokes were made even about crucifixion, that wemight suppose it to be a very trifling punishment. Chrysalus, a slave, facetiously observes, that when his master discovers he has spent hisgold, he will make him "cruscisalus" _i. E. _ "cross jumper. " In "TheHaunted House, " Tranio, who, certainly seems to have been a great scamp, soliloquises as follows on hearing of his master's return:--

"Is there any one, who would like to gain a little money, who couldendure this day to take my place in being tortured? Who are thosefellows hardened to a flogging, who wear out iron chains, or those whofor three didrachmas[19] would get beneath besieging towers, where theymight have their bodies pierced with fifteen spears? I'll give a talentto that man who shall be the first to run to the cross for me, but oncondition that his feet and arms are doubly fastened there. When that isdone, then ask the money of me. "

Acoustic humour appears not only in puns, but under the form of longnames of which Plautus was especially fond, Periplecomenus, Polymacharoplagides, and Thesaurochrysonicocræ are specimens of hisinventive genius in this direction. 

In the "Three Coins, " Charmides asks the sharper's name. 

 _Sh. _ You demand an arduous task. 

 _Charmides. _ How so?

 _Sh. _ Because if you were to begin before daylight at the first part of my name 'twould be dead of night before you could reach the end of it. I have another somewhat less, about the size of a wine cask. 

In the "Persian, " Toxilus gives his name as follows, "Vaniloquidorus Virginisvendonides Nugipolyloquides Argentiexterebronides Tedigniloquides Nummorumexpalponides Quodsemelarripides Nunquamposteareddides. "

There are a few other cases in which there is a playing upon sound, aswhere Demipho remarks that if he had such a good-looking girl asPasicompsa for a servant, all the people would be "staring, gazing, nodding, winking, hissing, twitching, crying, annoying, and serenading. "

The failings of the fair seems always to have been a favourite subjectfor men's attack, but reflections of this kind have decreased in numberand acerbity since the days of Aristophanes. We find, however, some inPlautus, such as the following:--

"Love is a fawning flatterer. For he that is in love, soon as ever hehas been smitten with the kisses of the object he loves, forthwith hissubstance vanishes out of doors, and melts away. 'Give me this, myhoney, if you love me. ' And then Gudgeon says, 'Oh apple of my eye, boththat and still more, if you wish. ' He who plunges into love perishesmore dreadfully than if he leapt from a rock. Away with you, Love, ifyou please. "

He is fully alive to the power of this destructive passion. In one placePhilolaches half mad with love and jealousy sees his mistress lookinginto a mirror. "Ah, wretched me, " he exclaims passionately, "she gavethe mirror a kiss. I wish I had a stone to break the head of thatmirror. "[20]

The love of money has always been a stock subject with humorists. Thiscommon weakness of human nature can be played upon even by those who canproduce no other wit, and many worse jokes have been made on it than thefollowing, --

Calidorus asks his servant, Pseudolus, to lend him a drachma. 

 _P. _ What for?

 _C. _ To buy a rope to hang myself. 

 _P. _ Who then will pay me back? Do you wish to hang yourself to cheat me out of my drachma?

The "Concealed Treasure" turns on an old man having found a pot of gold. He conceals it, and his nervousness lest some one should discover it isbrought out with excellent humour. He drives the cooks out of the placewith his stick. He has a battle-royal with a dunghill cock, who, heimagines is trying to scratch for it, then thinks Strobilus has stolenit, and calls on him to show one hand, and the other, and then thethird. 

We are the more inclined to lament the utter destruction of ancientAfrican literature on finding that the most refined Roman dramas wereplaced upon the stage by a Carthaginian, when Plautus, whose enterprizeand perseverance had given the great impetus to Latin comedy, wasapproaching the end of his long life. Terence was born the last, and assome think the greatest master in this branch of Art. He was at one timea slave, but his literary talent was so remarkable that his master sethim free, and he became the friend of distinguished men, especially ofScipio the younger. It must seem strange that this brilliancy shouldhave flashed up for a moment, and then been for ever quenched, but itwas derived from Greece and not in its nature enduring. The genius ofMenander fed the flame of Terence, as that of Diphilus and others gavepower to Plautus, and it may well be supposed that men of their talentappropriated all that was most excellent, and left their successors todraw from inferior sources. It may, moreover, be doubted, whether theregular drama was ever popular among the lower classes in Rome, whopreferred the more exciting scenes of the circus. Such plays as wereintended for them were coarser and more sensational. 

Terence has not the rough power and drollery of Plautus; his wholeattraction lies in the subtlety of his amorous intrigues. Steele, speaking of one of the plays, "The Self-Tormentor, " observes, "It isfrom the beginning to the end a perfect picture of human life, but I didnot observe in the whole one passage that could possibly raise a laugh. "It was for this reason, no doubt, that Cæsar spoke of him as only "halfa Menander, " and as deficient in comic force. Ingenious complexity is soexclusively his aim, that we have neither the coarseness nor the sparkleof earlier writers. He was the first to introduce Comedies, which werenot comic, and whatever humour he introduces is that of situation. 

We now come to consider a kind of humour of which the Romans claim tohave been the originators, and which they certainly developed into abranch of literature. Satire first signified a basket of first fruitsoffered to Ceres; then a hotchpot or olla podrida, then a medley; and sothe name was given to poems written without any definite design. Wemight therefore conclude that they possessed no uniform character, butmerely contained a mixture of miscellaneous matter. But we find in themno allusions to politics or war, and but few to the literature andphilosophy of the day--their variety being due to their socialcomplexion. One feeling and character pervades them all--they werecalled forth by a scornful indignation at the degeneracy of the age asrepresented by the rich and powerful, or even by certain leadingindividuals. The appearance of such a kind of literature denoted greateractivity in society, an increase of profligacy among some, and of moralsensibility among others. Satire was a social scourge. It was not aphilosophical investigation into the nature and origin of vice, but adenunciation of it as inimical to the interests of society. It waspractical not theoretical--and sought to bring vice into contempt, bymaking it both odious and ridiculous. In the latter attempt, thesatirists may have had more success than we credit them with, for in ourday such virulent attacks would be distasteful, immorality beingregarded as essentially a matter for grave and serious condemnation. Satire differs from abuse, not only in being declamatory, but in beingdeserved. The amusement in it mostly depends upon the deformity of thesensual, the failures of the wicked, and the exposure of guilt in a kindof moral pillory. It did not aim at mere accidental losses orimperfections, and made no fanciful accusations merely to amuse, but itwas often lightened by metaphor, by coined words, and especially byexaggeration. 

The satire of Rome, though in a certain sense new, seems to have beensomewhat derived from Greece. Ennius, who commenced it, a man youngerthan Plautus and older than Terence, was himself half a Greek. He wroteepic poems and comedies, and also introduced this comic literature forprivate reading. Lucilius, who was the first eminent Roman satirist, issaid to have imitated the old Greek comedies. His attacks are verysevere and personal, reminding us a little of Archilochus, thoughapparently not written to gratify any private spleen. The tendency topersonalities marked a time when the range of society and the tone ofthought were equally narrow. Moral depravity was considered to becentred in a few individuals, and in the broken fragments of Lucilius'rage, which have descended to us, we find a man stigmatised as an"ulcer, " "gangrene, " a "poison, " "jibber, " "shuffler, " "a hard-mouthedobstinate brute. " Sometimes he ridicules the bodily infirmities of thedepraved; but Lucilius' attacks seem less ill-natured and more justlyhumorous from being always directed against the vicious and demoralised. Occasionally he indulges in such uncomplimentary expressions as "Thereis no flummery-maker equal to you, " while some are hailed with "Longlife to you, glutton, gormandizer, and belly-god. " He might truly say inhis metaphorical language, "I seize his beak and smash his lips, Zopyrus' fashion, and knock out all his front teeth. "

The satire of Horace was exceptionally mild; with him its socialcharacter was much more marked than its acerbity. In many places heshows Greek reflections, for he had received a liberal education, dulycompleted at Athens. But his philosophy did not consist of dreamytheories and arbitrary rules--it was directed to practical ends, to theharmonizing of the feelings, and the elevation of society. As a man ofthe world, he was not carried away by fancies, nor given to exaggeratedviews; and as a companion of the great, he was not inclined to inveighbitterly against the degeneracy of the times. On the contrary, so kindlywere his feelings, that he tells us that we should overlook the vices ofour friends. His teaching, both in spirit and range, was broader thanthat of his predecessors; his shafts were directed against classesrather than individuals, and wherever he is more pointed, his object isnot to gratify personal spite, but to make his warning more forcible byillustration. Moreover, his names are generally unreal. In this way heattacks Nasidienus on the excessive luxury of the table, and his advicewas applicable not only to the rich and great, but to more ordinary men. Thus, he shows the bad tendencies of avarice and love-intrigues, and themeanness of sycophantism and legacy-hunting. Many of the faults hecondemns are rather errors in taste than serious moral delinquencies. Sometimes he criticises merely trivial matters, such as a costume or ascent. "Rufillus smells all perfumes, Gorgonius like a goat, " and themost humorous of his pieces is that in which he ridicules the ignoranceand impudence of a manoeuvring chatterer. But in this line he is notvery successful, and his contests of rival jesters are as much beneaththe notice of any good writer of the present day, as his account is ofPorcius, the jack-pudding "swallowing cakes whole. "

Horace says that men are more impervious to slashing reproach than tofine ridicule, and he was unusually adroit in hitting foibles withoutinflicting pain. He was not a man who held strong opinions on subjects. This is especially evident where he speaks of his own fickleness; andwhile he reiterates his dislike of Rome, with its noise and bustle, hemakes his slave say that this is but affectation, and when an invitationcomes from Mecænas, "Mulvius and the 'scurræ' are turned out, " fromwhich we learn that parasites had their parasites, and that Horace inthe country played the patron to the rustic wits. 

Although the Romans generally have no claim to be called a humorouspeople, many of them became celebrated for their talent in repartee. Scipio Africanus Æmilianus above mentioned, was remarkable in this way, as was Crassus, Granius, Vargula, and others. There was a good old jokethat Nasica having called at the house of the poet Ennius, and themaid-servant having told him that Ennius was not at home, he perceivedshe had said so by her master's order; and when, a few days afterwards, Ennius called at Nasica's house, and inquired for him, Nasica cried outthat he was "not at home. " "What!" says Ennius, "do I not know yourvoice?" "You are an impudent fellow, " replied Nasica, "I believed yourservant when she said you were not at home, and you will not believeme. "

A vein of humour seems to have run through the Cæsar family. CaiusJulius Cæsar Strabo Vopiscus was so noted for the gift that Cicero inhis work on Oratory makes him deliver his observations on the subject. Julius Cæsar himself was as remarkable for pleasantry as for clemency. His "Veni, vidi, vici, " in which his enemies saw so much arrogance, wasno doubt intended and understood by his friends to be humorous. In hisyouth he was accused of effeminate habits, and when on his obtaining theentire command of Gaul, he said that he would now make his enemies hissuppliants, and a senator replied sarcastically, "That will not be aneasy task for a woman. " He rejoined with gaiety, "Semiramis reigned inAssyria, and the Amazons possessed a great part of Asia. " We havealready seen him lamenting over the loss of comic force in Terence ascompared with Menander, and in the triumphal games given in his honourin the year 45, he commanded Decimus Laberius, though a man of sixty, toappear on the stage in the contest of wit. This knight was a composer ofmimes--a light kind of comedy, somewhat to be compared to the"entertainments" given by humorists at the present day. Julius Cæsarobliged him to perform in person--an act of degradation--but afterwardsgave him 500, 000 sesterces, and restored him to his rank. This act ofCæsar's has been regarded as having a political significance, but it maymerely have shown his love of humour. He may have wished to bring outthe talent of the new mime, Publius, a young Syrian, who had acquiredgreat celebrity both for beauty and wit. It is said that when his masterfirst took Publius to see his patron, the latter observed one of hisslaves, who was dropsical, lying in the sunshine, and asking him angrilywhat he was doing there, Publius answered for him "Warming water. " Onthe same visit, in jesting after supper, the question was asked, "Whatis a disagreeable repose?" When many had attempted answers, Publiusreplied, "That of gouty feet. "

Some of the sayings of Publius, have been preserved. 

"He receives a benefit who gives to a worthy person. "

"He to whom more than is just is allowed, wishes for more than he gets. "

"A man who talks well on the road is as good as a carriage. "

"He unjustly accuses Neptune who is ship-wrecked twice. "

"By overlooking an old injury you invite a new one. "

These sayings are of a worldly-wise and proverbial character, and, therefore, as has been already observed, although not actually humorous, are easily capable of being so regarded. 

Cæsar awarded the prize to Publius instead of Laberius, because, as itis supposed, of some reflections the latter made upon him. But it mayhave been that Cæsar was right, and Publius' wit was the most salient. 

Scarcely any specimens remain of Laberius' talent. Aulus Gellius saysthat he coined many strange words, and he seems to have madeconsiderable use of alliteration. 

We may suppose that the humour of Cicero was somewhat hereditary, for herecords a saying of his grandfather that "the men of our time are likeSyrian slaves; the more Greek they know, the greater knaves they are!"It is fortunate the grandson inherited the old man's wit without hisplebeian prejudices, and became as celebrated for his culture as for hisreadiness. In his work entitled "The Orator, " he commends humour as ameans of gaining influence, and a vehicle for moral instruction. "Orators, " he says, "joke with an object, not to appear jesters, but toobtain some advantage. " But we may feel sure he did not keep this dryand profitable end always in view, for he wrote a jest-book, and wasnick-named by his enemies "Scurra Consularis, "[21] the consular buffoon. 

A man can scarcely have a talent for humour without being conscious ofits fascination, and being sometimes led away by it--as Cicero says, "itpleases the listeners"--but he need not therefore descend to buffoonery. We should not be inclined to accuse a man of that, who tells us that "aregard to proper times, moderation and forbearance in jesting, and alimitation in the number of jokes, will distinguish the orator from thebuffoon;" who says that "indelicacy is a disgrace, not only to theforum, but to any company of well-bred people, " and that neither greatvice nor great misery is a subject for ridicule. From all this we maygather that Cicero was full of graceful and clever jocosity, but did notindulge in what was vapid and objectionable. Both by precept andpractice he approved good verbal humour. The better class of puns wasused in the literature of the time, as we find by St. Paul and others, not in levity, but merely as embellishments. [22]

Cicero replied to Vibius Curius, who was telling a falsehood about hisage: "Then when we declaimed at the schools together, you were notborn;" and to Fabia, Dolabella's wife, who said she was thirty, "Nodoubt, for I have heard you say so twenty years. " When he saw Lentulus, his cousin--a little man girt with a big sword: "Who, " he asked, "hasfastened my cousin to that sword?" and on being shown a colossal bust ofhis brother, who was also small, he exclaimed, "The half of my brotheris greater than the whole. " One day Cicero had supped with Damasippus, and his host had said--putting some inferior wine before him--"Drinkthis Falernian, it is forty years old!" "It bears its age well, " repliedCicero. 

We have a most interesting collection of good sayings in "The Orator, "which although not spoken by Cicero himself, were those which he hadfrom time to time noticed, and probably jotted down. Here is one ofCæsar's (Strabo). A Sicilian, when a friend made lamentation to him thathis wife had hanged herself upon a fig tree: "I beseech you, " he said, "give me some shoots of that tree that I may plant them. " Some one askedCrassus whether he should be troublesome if he came to him before it waslight. Crassus said, "You will not. " The other rejoined, "You will orderyourself to be awakened then. " To which Crassus replied, "Surely, I saidthat you would not be troublesome. "

To return to the Cæsars. The humorous vein which we have traced in thefamily descended to Augustus--the great nephew of Julius. Some of hissayings, which have survived, show him to have been as pleasant in hiswit as he was proverbially happy in his fortunes. 

When the inhabitants of Tarraco made him a fulsome speech, telling himthat they had raised an altar to him as their presiding deity, and that, marvellous to relate, a splendid palm tree had grown up on it: "Thatshows, " replied the Emperor, "how often you kindle a fire there. " ToGalba, a hunchback orator, who was pleading before him, and frequentlysaying, "Set me right, if I am wrong, " he replied, "I can easily correctyou, but I cannot set you right. "

The following will give a slight idea of the variety of his humour. 

When he heard that, among the children under two years old whom Herodhad ordered to be slain, his own son had been killed, he said, "It isbetter to be Herod's pig than his son. " Being entertained on oneoccasion with a very poor dinner, and without any ceremony, as he waspassing out he whispered in the ear of his host, "I did not know that Iwas such a friend of yours. " A Roman knight having died enormously indebt, Augustus ordered them to buy him his bed-pillow at the auction, observing: "The pillow of a man who could sleep when he owed so muchmust be truly soporific. " A man who had been removed from a cavalrycommand and asked for an allowance, "not from any mercenary motive, butthat I may seem to have resigned upon obtaining the grant from you, " hedismissed with the words: "Tell everybody you have received it. I willnot deny it. "

Augustus kept a jester, Gabba, and patronised mimes, and among otherdiversions with which he amused himself and his friends, was that ofgiving presents by lottery; each drew a ticket upon which something wasnamed, but on applying for the article a totally different thing wasreceived, answering to a second meaning of the name. This occasionedgreat merriment, a man who thought he was to get a grand present wasgiven a little sponge, or rake, or a pair of pincers; another who seemedto have no claim whatever, obtained something very valuable. The humourwas not great, but a little refreshing distraction was thus obtainedfrom the cares of state. There is no loss in light literature so much tobe deplored as that of the correspondence between Augustus and Mecænas. The latter prided himself upon his skill in poetry and humour, and wemay be sure that he sent some of his choicest productions to Augustus, who in turn exerted himself to send something worthy of the eye of socelebrated a critic. It is not impossible that the Emperor showedhimself equal, if not superior to the friend of Horace. 

Those who succeeded to the imperial purple proved very different fromtheir illustrious predecessor, and in Persius the severity of Romansatire re-appears. We could scarcely expect a man who lived under Nero, and after the reigns of Tiberius, Caligula, and Claudius to write withthe mild placidity of the Augustan poet. Moreover, the satires ofPersius were written at an early age--twenty-eight, and youth alwaysfeels acutely, and expresses strongly. Some of his attacks are evidentlyaimed at Nero, but his principal object is to denounce the vices of thetimes. Hence, indolence and prurient literature are stigmatised. Heridicules the extremes of extravagance, and of that parsimony by whichit is usually accompanied. "Am I on a festive day to have a nettledressed for me, and a smoked pig's cheek with a hole in its ear, inorder that that grandson of yours may be surfeited with goose liver, andindulge in patrician amours. Am I to be a living anatomy that his pope'sstomach may shake with fat. "[23] Alluding to the absurdity of theprayers generally offered up, he uses language worthy of a Christian. "You ask for vigour, but rich dishes and fat sausages prevent the godsfrom granting your behest. You ask what your fleshly mind suggests. Whatavails gold in sacrifice? Offer justice to God and man--generous honour, and a soul free from pollution. "

In Persius we miss the light geniality of Horace and the pure languageof the Augustan age, but we mark the complexity and finesse of a laterdate, a form of thought bespeaking a comprehensive grasp, and suitableto subtle minds. But as regards his humour it depends much onexaggeration, and is proportionably weak, and beyond this we have littlebut the coining of some words, [24] the using others in unaccustomedsenses, and a large seasoning of severity. He evidently aimed rather atbeing corrective than amusing, and his covert attacks upon Nero were, nodoubt, well understood. Humour of a poor kind was evidently fashionableat the day--the Emperor himself wrote Satires and was so fond of comicperformances that he first encouraged and rewarded a celebratedpantomimic actor named Paris, and then put him to death for being hisrival in the mimetic art. Even Seneca could not resist the example ofhis contemporaries, and we find the sedate philosopher attacking hisenemy with severe ridicule. Claudius had him sent into exile for eightyears to the picturesque but lonely Island of Corsica; and Seneca wholiked something more social and luxurious, held him up in a satirebordering upon lampoon. The fanciful production was called theApolokokyntosis of Claudius; that is his apotheosis, except that, instead of the Emperor being deified, he is supposed to be"gourdified, " changed not into a god, but into a pumpkin. Seneca, afterderiding Claudius' bodily defects, accuses him of committing manyatrocities, and finally sends him down from heaven to the nether world, where a new punishment is invented for him--he is to be always trying tothrow dice out of an empty box. 

One of the most remarkable characters in the reign of Nero was TitusPetronius Arbiter. He was a great favourite with the Emperor, and heldsome official appointment--the duties of which he is said to havedischarged with ability. In his writings he is supposed to condemnimmorality, but he enlarges so much upon what he disapproves that wedoubt whether he does not promote the vice he pretends to condemn. [25]His "Satyricon" is not intended to be a satire, but an imitation of oneof those old Greek comedies which treated of the doings of Satyrs andgrotesque country deities. It is the first comic prose work, for inearly times verse was thought as necessary to humour as to poetry. Thewhole work is enveloped in a voluptuous atmosphere; it is written in agay roystering style, but although the indelicacy is great the humouris small. Occasionally it is interesting, as giving an insight intoprivate life in the days of Nero. Here we find Trimalchio, a rich man, providing for the amusement of his guests, as well as for theirsumptuous entertainment. One dish was a wild boar, which was placed onthe table with a cap of liberty on its head. Petronius asked the meaningof this. "Why, " said he, "your servant could explain that, it is noriddle. This boar escaped from yesterday's dinner where it was dismissedby the guests, and he now returns to table as a freedman. " Afterwards amuch larger hog was brought in. "What!" cried Trimalchio, lookingclosely at it, "is not his inside taken out? No! it is not; call thecook, call the cook. " The cook being brought in, excused himself sayingthat he forgot. "Forgot!" cried Trimalchio, "why, he talks as if it wereonly a pinch of pepper omitted. Strip him. " In a moment the cook wasstripped to be flogged. All interceded for him, but Petronius feltsomewhat indignant at such an oversight, and said he must be a carelessrascal to forget to disembowel a hog. Trimalchio with a pleasant looksaid, "Come, you with the short memory, see if you can bowel him beforeus. " The cook slashed with his knife, and out tumbled a load of puddingsand sausages. All the servants raised a shout, and the cook waspresented with a cup of wine, and a silver crown. 

Petronius shared the fate of Seneca. He was suspected of conspiringagainst the Emperor, and his life being demanded, he preferred to sufferby his own hand rather than by that of the executioner. He caused hisveins to be opened, but strangely whimsical to the last, and wishing todie slowly, he had them closed at intervals. In his dying state he wasdaily carried about the streets of Cumæ, and received his friends, madelove verses and humorous epigrams, and endeavoured to withdraw histhoughts from the sad reality by indulging in all kinds of amusingcaprices. At length he expired--another distinguished victim of Nero'scruelty. 

Juvenal, who wrote under Domitian, a little later than Persius, equalledhim in severity--due either to his natural disposition or to thespectacle presented by the ever increasing demoralization of Rome. LikePersius, he makes use of much metaphor and involution in hisworks--showing the literary taste and intellectual acumen of a settledstate of society, but an early age is impressed upon his pages in theindelicacy with which he is frequently chargeable. His depiction ofguilt was appreciated at that day, but under the Christian dispensationvice is thought too sinful, and in a highly civilised state tooinjurious to be laughable. The views then held were different, andTacitus considered it a mark of great superiority in the Germans thatthey did not laugh at crimes. Juvenal tells us that the Romans jeered atpoverty. There was much in the character of this satirist to raise himin the estimation of right-minded men. His tastes were simple, he lovedthe country and its homely fare, and although devoid of ambition, washighly cultivated. No doubt he was rather austere than genial: his aimwas to instruct and warn rather than amuse; and where he approacheshumour it is merely from complexity of style, in coining words andbarbarisms, or in comparisons mostly dependent upon exaggeration. Thefollowing is one of his best specimens, though over-weighted withseverity. It gives an idea of the state of Rome at the time. A drunkenmagnate and his retinue stop a citizen in the street, and insolentlydemand--

"With whose vinegar and beans are you blown out? What cobbler has beeneating leeks and sheepshead with you? Answer, or be kicked. " "This, "says Juvenal "is a poor man's liberty. When pummelled, he begs that hemay be allowed to escape with a few of his teeth remaining. "

Juvenal longs for the sword of Lucilius, and the lamp of Horace, thathe may attack the vices of Rome, but he himself is more severe thaneither. Forgers, gamblers and profligates are assailed, and names arefrequently given, though we often cannot now decide whether theybelonged to real persons. Laughing at those who desire length of yearswithout remembering the concomitant infirmities of age, he says:

"All kinds of disease dance around the aged in a troop, of which if youwere to ask the names I could sooner tell you how many lovers Hippiahad, how many patients Themison killed in one autumn, or how many alliesBasilus and Hirrus defrauded. " He condemns the increased desire forluxury. "Do not, " he warns, "long for a mullet, when you have only agudgeon in your purse. " The rule of the day was to purchase sensualindulgence at any cost, "Greediness is so great that they will not eveninvite a parasite. " Excessive selfishness leads to every kind ofdishonesty. "A man of probity is as rare as a mule's foal, or as ashower of stones from a cloud. " "What day is so sacred that it fails toproduce thieving, perfidy, fraud, gain sought through every crime, andmoney acquired by bowl and dagger. The good are so scarce that theirnumber is barely as great as that of the gates of Thebes, or the mouthsof the fertilizing Nile. "

He attacks every kind of social abuse, and does not even spare theladies--some are too fast, some are learned and pedantic, some cruel totheir slaves--even scourging them with cowhides. "What fault, " heasks, "has the girl committed, if your own nose has displeased you?" Asto religion, that has disappeared altogether. "What a laugh yoursimplicity would raise in public, if you were to require of anyone thathe should not perjure himself, but believe that there was some deity inthe temple, or at the ensanguined altar! That the souls of the departedare anything, and the realms below, and the punt-pole and frogs of theStygian pool, and that so many thousands pass over in one boat, not eventhe boys believe, except those who are too young to pay for their bath. "

The language used in the last passage is no doubt an example of theprofane manner in which some men spoke at that day, but in general, wemust remember that these pictures are humorous and overdrawn. Still, some of the offences spoken of with horror by Juvenal were treatedalmost as lightly by contemporary poets as they had been byAristophanes. 

There is a slightly foreign complexion about the productions of Martial, which reminds us that he was a Spaniard. Even at this time there seemsto have been a sparkle and richness in the thoughts that budded in thatsunny clime. Martial was a contemporary of Juvenal, and addressed two orthree of his epigrams to him. His works consisted of fourteen books, containing altogether more than fifteen hundred of these short poems. 

The appearance of such works may be taken as indicative of the conditionof Rome at the time. The calls of business had become more urgent fromthe increase of the population and development of commerce, while theunsatisfactory state of the Government and of foreign affairs kept men'sminds in agitation and suspense. Martial himself observes that thosewere no times for poems of any length, and that some of his friendswould not even read his longer pieces, though they never exceeded thirtylines. The period demanded something light and short--a book which couldbe taken up and laid down without any interruption of the narrative. Butthe swifter current of affairs had also produced a keener or more activeturn of mind, so that it was necessary not only to be short, but alsopithy. It was not necessary to be humorous, but it was essential to beconcise and interesting, and thus Martial gave to the epigram thatcharacter for point which it has since maintained. 

Nothing could be more attractive than allusions to contemporary men, passing scenes, or novelties of the day, and when we read his works weseem to be transported by magic into the streets and houses of ancientRome. On one page we have the sanguinary scenes of the circus; inanother we see the ladies waving their purple fans, and hear themtoasted in as many glasses as they have letters to their names. 

From this kind of gaiety Martial graduates into another--that ofpleasantry. In an epitaph on his barber, he bids the earth lie lightupon him, adding, "It could not be lighter than his artistic hand. " Fromhis censure of bad wit, it is evident that he drew great distinctionsbetween broad and subtle humour. "Every man, " he says, "has not a_nose_, " _i. E. _, a keen perception--cannot smell a fault. He is veryseldom guilty of a pun, and says in one place that he has not adoptedverbal tricks, imitating echoes, or making lines which can be readbackwards or forwards. [26] Nor has he any intention to indulge in bitterreflections; he says, --

"My page injures not those it hates, and no reputation obtained at theexpense of another is pleasing to me. Some versifiers wish publicationswhich are but darts dipped in the blood of Lycambus to be mine, andvomit forth the poison of vipers under my name. My sport is harmless. "

But he well saw that some little severity was necessary for humour, forhe chides a dull poet:

"Although the epigrams which you write are always sweetness itself, andmore spotless than a white-leaded skin, and although there is in themneither an atom of salt, nor a drop of bitter gall, yet you expect, foolish man, that they will be read. Why, not even food is pleasant ifwholly destitute of acid seasoning, nor is a face pleasing which showsno dimples. Give children your honey, apples, and luscious figs--theChian fig, which has sharpness, pleases my taste. "

Following this view we find him often sarcastic, but not personal, thenames being fictitious, or if not, those of well known public men. In afew instances he is a little ill-natured, and writes, "Laugh, if thouart wise, girl, laugh, said Ovid, but he did not say this to all girls, not, for instance, to Maximina, who has only three teeth, and those thecolour of pitch and boxwood. Avoid the pantomimes of Philistion and gayfeasts. It befits you to sit beside an afflicted mother, and a wifelamenting her husband. Weep, if thou art wise, girl, weep. "

Martial often uses the figure called by the Greek grammarians "contraryto expectation. " The point of the whole epigram lies in the last word orline, which changes the drift of the whole. 

 "His funeral pile was strewn with reed, His tearful wife brought fragrant myrrh, The bier, the grave, the ointment were prepared, He named me as his heir, and he--got well. "

 "Sorry is Athenagoras not to send the gifts, Which in mid-winter he is wont to send; Whether he be sorry I shall shortly see, But sorry he has certainly made me. "

 "You feast so often without me, Lupercus, I've found a way by which to pay you out, I am incensed, and if you should invite me, What would I do, you ask me? Why--I'd come. "

The growing appreciation of this kind of writing had already ledMeleager, a cynic philosopher of Gadara, to form the first collection ofGreek epigrams, which he prettily termed the anthology or bouquet. Martial has been commended at the expense of the Greeks, but he borrowedconsiderably from them in form and matter. His epigrams were moreuniformly suggestive and concentrated than those of any previous writer, and he largely contributed to raise such compositions from being merelyinscriptive into a branch of literature. He opened a new field, and thelarger portion of these productions in Greek were written about thistime. They are not generally humorous, with the exception of a few fromPhilo and Leonidas of Alexandria who lived about 60 B. C. , fromAmmianus in 120 B. C. , and from Lucilius, a great composer ofthis kind, of whose history nothing is known but that he lived in thereign of Nero. The following are from the last-mentioned. 

"Some say, Nicylla, that thou dyest thy hair, which thou boughtest mostblack at the market. "

"All the astrologers prophesied that my uncle would be long-lived exceptHermocleides, who said he would not be so. This, however, was not untilwe were lamenting his death. "

The following are free translations from the same writer. 

 "Poor Cleon out of envy died, His brother thief to see Nailed near him to be crucified Upon a higher tree. "

On a bad painter. 

 "You paint Deucalion and Phaeton, And ask what price for each you should require; I'll tell you what they're worth before you've done, One deserves water, and the other fire. "

The works of Lucian are generally regarded as forming a part of Romanliterature, although they were written in Greek by a native of Samosatain Syria. In them we have an intermingling of the warm imagination ofthe East with the cold sceptical philosophy of the West. Lucian wasoriginally brought up to be a stone-cutter, but he had an insatiabledesire for learning, and in his "Dream" he tells us how he seemed to becarried aloft on the wings of Pegasus. He became a pleader at the bar, but soon found that "deceit, lies, impudence, and chicanery" wereinseparable from that profession. In disgust he betook himself tophilosophy, but could not restrain his indignation when he found so manybase men throwing the blame of their conduct on Plato, Chrysippus, Pythagoras, and other great men. "A fellow who tells you that the wiseman alone is rich, comes the next moment and asks you for money--just asif a person in regal array should go about begging. " He says they pay nomore attention to the doctrines they teach than if their words weretennis balls to play with in schools. "There is, " he continues, "a storytold of a certain king of Egypt, who took a fancy to have apes taught todance. The apes, as they are apt to mimic human actions, came on intheir lessons and improved very fast, and were soon fit to appear on thepublic stage, and display their skill, dressed in purple robes, withmasks on their faces. The spectators were much pleased with them for aconsiderable time, when a wag who was present, having brought with him aquantity of nuts, threw a handful amongst them. The dance wasimmediately forgotten, and the performers from pyrrhic dancers, relapsedinto apes, who went chattering and snapping at one another, and fightingfor nuts; so that in a few moments the masks were crumpled, the clothestorn to rags, and the ape dance, which had been so much extolled, terminated amidst peals of laughter. Such is the history of mockphilosophers. "

The above story may serve to exhibit Lucian's views, and his love ofhumorous illustration. He indulges in many fancies, such as thecomplaint of the letter S against T, which had in Attic been substitutedfor it. 

Another kind of pleasantry which he brings forward is interesting, inasmuch as after having been in fashion among the grammarians, andreviving among the monks in the middle ages it has now fallen entirelyout of use. It may be regarded as being a kind of continuation of thephilosophical "hard questions" of ancient times, originated with theSophists, and was entirely confined to logical subtleties affordingdiversion, but not awakening any emotion sufficient to cause laughter. Lucian makes a parasite ask his host after dinner to solve such riddlesas "The Sorites and the Reaper, " and the "Horned Syllogism. " The latterproposition was, "What you have not lost that you still have. You havenot lost horns, therefore you have horns. " In "The Sale of thePhilosophers, " in which Jupiter puts them all up to auction to see whatwill be bid for them, Chrysippus gives some similar examples. "A stoneis a substance, is it not?" "Certainly. " "A living being is also asubstance. " "Yes. " "And you are a living being--therefore you are astone. " Chrysippus then offers to turn him back into a man. "Is everysubstance a living being?" "No. " "Is a stone a living being?" "No. " "Butyou are a substance?" "Yes. " "And a living being; then, although you area substance you are not a stone, because you are a living being. "

Lucian's crusade against vice is of so general a kind as to remind usmore of some of the old philosophers than of the Roman satirists. At thesame time he says he has only spoken against impostors, and is only theenemy of false pretence, quackery, lies, and puffing. But we may supposethat he would not be sparing of his lash in any direction, for in the"Resuscitated Philosophers, " he observes, "Philosophy says thatridicule can never make anything worse than it is in itself, andwhatever is beautiful and good comes out with more lustre from it, and, like gold, is rendered splendid by the strokes of the hammer. "

Following this view, he makes pretty sport of the parasites, whom herepresents as forming a large and educated class. Patroclus he counts asAchilles' parasite, and includes several philosophers, who, he says, sponged upon Dionysius of Syracuse, "but Plato failed in the art. " Hecommends them in merry irony, and describes the parasite as stout androbust--bold, with an eye full of fire and spirit. Who could venture abet against a parasite, whether in jesting or feasting? Who couldcontribute more to the diversion of the company? A parasite is obligedto be strict in his conduct. He has an annual salary, but is alwaysbeaten down in it. He does not receive the same food as the chiefpeople, and in travelling he is put with the servants. Jokes are made athis expense by the company, and when he receives a present of hispatron's old clothes, he has to fee the servants for them. Ofphilosophers, some are poisoned, some are burned alive. None ever tellof a parasite who came to such an end--he dies gently and sweetly, amidst loaded dishes and flowing bowls, and should one of them come toa violent death, it is merely from indigestion. The parasite does honourto the rich man--not the rich man to the parasite. 

Lucian's "True History" deserves especial notice as having been thefirst extravagant story written under the form of a circumstantialnarration of travels. It was the precursor of "The Voyage to the Moon, "Baron Münchausen, and various Utopias. We must therefore allow it themerit of originality, and it evinces talent, for mere exaggeration wouldnot be entertaining. The intention was to ridicule the marvelloustravellers' stories then current. Much of this history is merely florid, and we may compare it to a waving line, in which the fable is constantlyundulating between humour and poetry. 

Lucian says he is going to write about what never can be. He sets sailon a voyage of discovery for the Western Ocean, and reaches a beautifulisland. There they find a river of wine, navigable in many places. Hecould not trace the source of it, but near the place where it seemed torise, were several vines full of grapes, and at the root of every onewine flowed out. They found fish in the stream, and after eating some, felt intoxicated; when they cut them up, they found grape-stones inthem. Passing the river, they found a most wonderful species of vine;the lower parts, which touched the ground, were green and thick, theupper formed the most beautiful women, from the top of whose fingersbranches sprang forth full of grapes; and on their heads, instead ofhair, they had leaves and tendrils. Two of his companions, going up toembrace them, became so entangled that they could not again disengagethemselves. After this, they left the island, and were caught in such aviolent storm that the vessel was lifted out of the water, so high thatit could not come down again. Then they came to another island, roundand shining. Here they found Hippogypi, men riding upon vultures--birdsso large that each of their feathers was like the mast of a ship. Thevoyagers join the Hippogypi in a battle against the inhabitants of thesun, and have various allies--some mounted on fleas about the size oftwelve elephants, and spiders, each as big as one of the Cycladesislands. The travellers were taken prisoners, and conveyed to the Sun, but he returned to the Moon, of which he gives a description. Theinhabitants there make use of their stomachs--which are empty and linedwith hair--as bags or pockets to put away things. They take their eyesin and out, and borrow them. "Whoever does not believe me, had bettergo and see. " Returning from the air to the earth and sea, they sawseveral enormous whales, one of whom swam up to them with its mouth wideopen. Coming near he swallowed them up--ship and all. It was darkinside, until he opened his mouth again. There was a large extent ofland inside, and hills and woods, in which birds were building nests. 

From this last fancy, we might conclude that Lucian had read the Book ofJonah, and a description he afterwards gives of the Isles of theBlessed, seems to be written in imitation of the Revelation. 

The age in which Lucian lived was marked by theological contests betweenPagans, Jews, and Christians, and such times have generally caused anincrease of scepticism and profanity. Lucian was a follower ofDemocritus, and his Confabulations consist of a succession of squibs andsatires on the mythological legends of the gods and goddesses. He laughsat curing diseases by charms and incantations. People pretended to fly, walk on water and through fire--they are called Babylonians andHyperboreans. A Syrian from Palestine professes to drive devils out ofpeople (perhaps alluding to the exorcists of the early church. ) He makesEucrates speak of one Pancrates, who would take a broom or the pestle ofa wooden mortar, and upon saying a couple of magical words, it appearedto become a man, drew water, and ordered food. When Pancrates had nofurther need of him, he spoke a couple of words, and the man was apestle again. Eucrates tried this himself, but having made the pestle aman, and told him to bring water, he forgot how to change him backagain. So he kept on bringing water. Eucrates then split the pestle intwo, and both halves still continued to bring water. 

Demonax, the friend of Lucian, was as remarkable for his wit andrepartee as for his kindly nature. A man who over-rated his austerity, expressed one day his surprise at seeing him eat sweet-cakes. "Do youthink, " he replied, "that the bees make their honey only for fools?" Heseems to have had as little respect as Lucian for the idolatry of hisday, for on one of his companions saying to him "Let us go to the Templeof Æsculapius to pray for my son, " he answered, "Is the god then so deafthat he cannot hear us where we are?"

He lived and died a bachelor, and we are told that on being blamed byEpictetus, with whom he studied, for not marrying and having a family asa philosopher should, he replied "Very well, give me one of yourdaughters. " Epictetus was an old bachelor. 

He counselled a bad orator to practise and exercise himself in the artof speaking, and on his replying, "I am always doing so--to myself, " headded, "It is therefore not surprising you speak as you do--having afool for your audience. "

When the sophist Sidonius, delivering a long panegyric on himself, saidthat he was acquainted with all the tenets of the philosophers: "IfAristotle calls me to the Lyceum, I obey; if Plato to the Academy, Icome; Zeno to the Stoa, I take up my abode there; if Pythagoras calls, Iam silent:" Demonax jumped up in the middle of the Assembly and criedout, "Pythagoras calls you. "

His humour was purely genial and jocose, as when, on the point ofsetting sail in winter, he replied to a friend who asked him whether hewas not afraid he should be ship-wrecked and go to feed the fishes, "Should I not be ungrateful were I unwilling to be devoured by fishes, when I have feasted on so many myself?"

But there is one speech of his which must ever make his memory dear toall good men. When the Athenians wished to emulate the Corinthians byexhibiting a gladiatorial combat, he said, "Do not vote this, Athenians, before ye have taken down the Altar of Mercy. "

Demonax lived to a ripe old age, and we are told that he was so muchbeloved in Athens that, as he passed the bread-shops, the bakers wouldrun out to beg his acceptance of a loaf, and thought it a good omen ifhe complied; and that the little children called him father, and wouldbring him presents of fruit. 

Apuleius wrote in Latin in the second century. He was a native ofCarthage--not the celebrated Carthage of Terence, but that of Cyprian--anew city. He travelled like many of the learned men of his time toAthens and Alexandria, and thus, most probably, became acquainted withhis contemporary Lucian. At any rate, his "Golden Ass" seems taken fromthe work by that author. Bishop Warburton has seen in his production asubtle attack upon Christianity, but we may take it as intended toridicule magical arts, and those who believed in them. He was likely tofeel keenly on this subject, for having married a rich widow, Pudentilla, her relatives accused him of having obtained her bywitchcraft, and even dragged him into a court of justice. 

Lucian ridiculed the religion of his day, Apuleius its superstitions. Apuleius speaks of his "book of jests, " but it is lost--the few lines hegives out of it are a somewhat matter-of-fact recommendation oftooth-powder. His enemies thought that tooth-powder was somethingmagical and unholy--at any rate, they made his mention of it a chargeagainst him. In reply, he says that perhaps a man who only opens hismouth to revile ought not to have tooth-powder. 

In the "Golden Ass, " Apuleius gravely supposes that transformations takeplace between men and the lower animals. He makes Aristomenes tell astory in which a witch appears, "able to drag down the firmament, tosupport the world on her shoulders, crumble mountains, raise the dead, dethrone gods, extinguish the stars, and illuminate hell. " She changedone of her lovers, of whom she was jealous, into a beaver, andpersecuted him with hunters. She punished the wife of another of them, who was about to increase her family, by condemning her to remain inthat condition. "It is now eight years since she has been growing largerand larger, and seems as though about to produce an elephant. "

Lucius goes to Thessaly, celebrated for its witches, and a good story istold how returning late from supper he finds three men battering againsthis door. Taking them for robbers he draws his dagger, and stabs them, and the ground is covered with blood. Next day he is tried for murder, and about to be crucified, when the corpses are brought into court, andare found to be three wine-skins. He is told that this was a trickplayed on him upon the day when they usually celebrated the festival ofthe god of laughter, but it seems to have been really owing to anincantation. He sees Pamphile, his hostess, change herself into an owl, thinks he also will transform himself into a bird, and anoints himselfwith some of the witch's preparations. By mistake, taking the wrongointment, he transforms himself into a donkey. He then goes to look forhis horse, who, thinking he is coming to eat his food, kicks him out, and soon afterwards he is well thrashed by his servant boy. He is toldthat eating fresh roses will restore him to his former self, but forvarious reasons he cannot get any. Being hungry he goes into a kitchengarden, and makes a good meal of the vegetables, for which transgressionhe is nearly killed by the gardener. To prevent this he kicks the manover, whereupon a general outcry was raised, and great dogs rush uponhim. After this persecution he is in danger of dying ofstarvation--"spiders began to spin their webs on his lips, " but becominginstrumental in saving a young girl, he receives better treatment. He isthen bought by vagrants, who go about playing cymbals, and carrying animage of the Syrian goddess. He is accompanied by a troop of fanaticalpriests, who dance and scourge themselves. While the priests are beingroyally entertained by one of their votaries, a dog runs off with ahaunch of venison, and the cook, not knowing what to do, conceives theproject of killing the ass, and dressing one of his haunches instead. Toavoid this the donkey breaks loose, and gallops into the supper room. After the band of priests is dispersed, owing to their thievingpropensities, the donkey is sold to a baker, and by him to a gardener, and nearly dies of cold and exposure. Then he becomes the property ofthe servants of a very rich man, and is found eating up the remains oftheir supper. This greatly amuses them all, and their lord orders him tobe brought to his table. A buffoon, or parasite, who sat among theguests, exclaims "Give him a cup of wine, " and he was taught varioustricks. His fame increases so that his master only admits people to seehim on payment. Finally being taken to the circus, and afraid that someof the wild beasts might eat him by mistake, he slips away and gallopsto Cenchroea, where he prays to the goddess Iris, and is by herrestored to his human form. The descriptions in this work are often verybeautiful, and the humour in describing the misfortunes of the ass isexcellent. 

In contrast to the humour of Lucian and Apuleius, we may place that ofthe Emperor Julian, an ascetic and devotee, who was nephew ofConstantine the Great, and brought up a Christian. Julian's early lifewas spent in terror, for Constantius, Constantine's son, imprisoned himat Milan, after having put his elder brother to death. Perhaps thistreatment at the hands of a Christian may have prejudiced him againstthe new religion, or his mild disposition may have been scandalized atthe fierceness of theological controversies, or at the lives of many ofthe converts. His early education and experiences of life were moreinclined to imbue him with principles of toleration than to make him azealous Christian, and, finally, when he arrived at the age of twenty, he determined to return back into Paganism. This retrograde movement, not altogether out of keeping with his quaint character and love ofantiquity, has stamped him with the opprobrious title of the "Apostate, "but in moral excellence he was superior to the age in which he lived. Many of his writings show a sense of humour, such as that he wrote inLutetia (Paris) on "Barley wine" the drink of the Gauls. 

 "Who and whence art thou, Dionyse? for, by true Bacchus I know thee not, but Jove's great son alone, He smells of nectar, thou of goats, truly the Celts For want of grapes made thee of ears of corn; Wherefore thou shouldst be Cereal called, not Bacchus, Pyrogenes and Bromos, not Bromion. "[27]

Julian's principal work is on the Cæsars. He commences it by saying thathe is not addicted to jesting, but he will relate a sort of fable inwhich all the gods and Cæsars are called to a great banquet. Accordingly, he introduces various characters. Julius Cæsar seems in hispride to wish to dispute the throne even with Jupiter. Augustus hecompares to a chameleon, sometimes one colour, sometimes another; onemoment a visage full of sorrow, another smiling. 

Tiberius has a fierce countenance, and shows the marks of intemperanceand debauchery. "Take care he does not pull your ear, " says Bacchus, "for thus he treated a grammarian. " "He had better, " returned Silenus, "bemoan himself in his solitary island, and tear the face of somemiserable fisherman. "[28]

Constantine, not finding among the gods any type of his character, betook himself to the goddess of pleasure. She, receiving him softly andembracing him, trimmed him up and adorned him, dressed him in a shiningand many-coloured woman's gown, and led him away to demoralization. With her he found one of his sons, who loudly proclaimed to all, "Whosoever is a seducer, a murderer, or shameless, let him advanceboldly, for by washing him with water I will immediately make him pure;and if he should be again guilty of such things, I will grant him to bepure on striking his breast, or beating his head. "[29] At the end ofthis "fable, " the Emperors are called upon to speak in their defence. Constantine being asked what object he had in view, replied "to amassgreat riches and spend them on myself and friends. " Silenus burst into afit of laughter, and retorted "You now wish to pass for a banker, buthow can you forget your living like a cook, or a hair-dresser?" alludingto his luxurious feastings, and his wearing gold-flowered stuffs, and adiadem of jewels. 

Gibbon calls this work on the Cæsars one of the most agreeable andinstructive productions of ancient wit. 

Julian prided himself on his primitive and severe life, and made himselfridiculous by wearing a long unfashionable beard--either in imitation ofthe Gauls, or of the ancient philosophers. It is probable that hepersisted in this habit to discountenance the effeminacy of the times. He says that soon after he entered Constantinople, he had occasion tosend for a barber. An officer, magnificently dressed, presented himself. "It is a barber, " said the prince, "that I want, and not a minister offinance. " He questioned the man about his profits, and was informed thatbesides a large salary and some valuable perquisites, he enjoyed a dailyallowance of twenty servants and as many horses! Not only was Julianstrongly opposed to luxury, but he was, as far as his light went, areligious man, and was strict in observing the feasts and festivals ofthe heathen deities. All his antiquated peculiarities are broughtstrongly before us on the occasion of his visit to Antioch. Strabo tellsus that this was one of the largest cities in the world--little inferiorin extent to Alexandria and Seleucia. It was noted for its gaieties, andseems now to have been the centre of fashion. The new religion had been, at least nominally, adopted, and also the new costumes, as well as everykind of luxury and dissipation. Chrysostom bears witness to the sameeffect. The town was full of dancers, pipers, and players, camels"adorned like brides" stalked through the porticos, and fish and poultryhad come to be considered as necessaries of life. There were here manypeople of leisure and cultivation, fond of light and fanciful pursuits, and among others of forming verbal conceits. Hence, we find that thedisciples were first called _Christians_ at Antioch, no doubt, derisively, [30] and in Julian's time they had a cant saying that theyhad suffered nothing from the X or the K (Christ or Constantius). Acelebrated school of rhetoric was established here, and no doubt some ofthe effusions penned at this time, abounded with rich and epigrammatichumour. 

It must have been a rare sight for these polished and satiricalChristians of Antioch to behold Julian celebrating the festivals of thepagan gods. To view the procession of Venus--a long line of all thedissolute women in the town, singing loose songs--followed by the lean, uncouth Roman Emperor, with his shaggy beard, and terminated by amilitary train. No wonder they hooted him, and wrote lampoons upon him. But Julian thought he was performing a solemn duty; he by no meansintended to countenance immorality. "Far from us, " he says, "be alllicentious jests and scurrilous discourse--let no priest readArchilochus or Hipponax. " He gives an amusing account of his receptionat the celebrated grove of Daphnæ, near Antioch, which he visited atthe time of the annual festival. He expected to see a profusion ofwealth and splendour. He pictured to himself the solemn pomp, thevictims, the libations, the dancers, the incense, the children in whiterobes. When he entered the temple, full of such elevated thoughts, hefound there neither incense, cake, nor victims. Much surprised, he couldonly suppose that the people were waiting at the gate, by way ofrespect, for a signal from the sovereign Pontiff. He therefore asked thepriest what offering the city was about to make on this greatanniversary; to which he replied, "The city has furnished nothing, but Ihave brought the god a goose from my own house. "

Julian says the people of Antioch had transfixed him with sarcasms, aswith arrows. In accordance, however, with his peaceful disposition, heonly retaliated by writing the Misopogon or "Beard-hater. " "No law, " hesays, "forbids me to satirise myself. " He begins with his face and says, "Although naturally good-looking, moroseness and bad manners have led meto wear a long beard for no apparent reason but that nature has not madeit handsome. Therefore, I allow lice to run about in it like wild beastsin a wood, nor have I the power of eating or drinking much, for I mustbe cautious, lest I eat hairs along with bread. About being kissed, orkissing, I do not much care; still a beard has this inconvenience amongothers, that it does not allow us to join pure lips to those that arepure, and, therefore, the sweeter. You say that ropes should be twistedout of it, and I would willingly grant this, if only you were able todraw out the bristles, so that your soft and delicate hands should notsuffer from their roughness. "

He says that he never goes to the theatre, and hates horse-races. As todomestic matters, "I pass sleepless nights upon a bed of straw, andinsufficient food makes my manners severe and offensive to a luxuriouscity. Do not think that I do this on your account--a great and senselessmistake has led me from my childhood to wage war with my stomach. " He isnot at all surprised that they should follow the dissolute habits of thefounder of their city, Antiochus, and that they think of nothing butdressing, bathing, and love-making--charges which could not be broughtagainst himself. He esteems dancers and players "no more than the frogsof the lakes, " and tells a story, that when Cato came into the city ofAntioch, seeing all the young men under arms, and the magistrates intheir robes, he thought the parade was in his honour. He blamed hisfriends for having told them he was coming, and advanced with somehesitation, when the master of the ceremonies came up and asked, "Stranger, how far off is Demetrius?" a man who had been a slave ofPompey, but had become immensely rich. Cato made no reply, butexclaimed, "O, miserable city!" and departed. 

The Misopogon is unique as a mock disparagement of self. Althoughwritten in condemnation of the Antiochians, a vein of pleasantry runsthrough it, which shows that Julian was not vindictive, and had aconsiderable gift of humour. Had he lived to mature age, he wouldprobably have left some brilliant literary work. But shortly after hisvisit to Antioch, he led an expedition into Persia, and with his usualdisregard of danger, entered the battle without his armour, and wasmortally wounded. 

We read that the Roman girls were very fond of amusing themselves intheir leisure hours by making "scirpi" or riddles. They do not seem tohave indulged much in puns, or to have attempted anything veryintricate, but rather to have aimed at testing knowledge and memory. Wehave few specimens remaining of their art, but such as we have are ofthat early kind, which demand some special information for theirsolutions. Aulus Gellius has preserved one "old by Hercules, " whichturns on the legend that when Tarquinius Superbus was installing Jupiterat the Capitol, all the other gods were ready to leave except Terminus, who being by his character immovable, and having no legs, refused todepart. [31] Two other specimens are found in Virgil's bucolics:--

 "Say in what lands grow flowers inscribed with names Of kings--and Phyllis shall be yours alone, "

referring to the hyacinth, on whose petals the word Ajax was supposed tobe found. The responding couplet runs:--

 "Say, and my great Apollo thou shalt be, Where heaven's span extends but three ells wide;"

the answer to which is not known. 

Probably some riddles of an earlier date may be incorporated in the bookof Symposius. Nothing is known of the life of this author, and it hasbeen suggested that the word should be Symposium or the "Banquet"--theseenigmas being supposed to be delivered after dinner. But mostauthorities consider Symposius to have lived in the fourth century, although an examination of his prosody might lead us to place him notearlier than the fifth. Very few of the riddles are really ingenious;among the best we may reckon:--

 "Letters sustain me--yet I know them not, I live on books, and yet I never read, The Muses I've devoured and gained no knowledge. "

This is tolerably self-evident, but some require special informationas:--

 "You can behold what you can scarce believe There is but one eye, yet a thousand heads, Who sells what he has, whence shall he get what he has not?"

Few would ever guess that this referred to a one-eyed man sellinggarlic. But the greater number of these conceits are merely emblematicdescriptions of well-known things, and are more vague than epigrammatic, as, "I am the purple of the earth suffused with lovely tints and girt, lest I be wronged with pointed spears. Happy indeed! had I but length of life. "

 "There's a new capture of some well-known game, that what you catch not, you bear off with you. "

 "Hoarsely amidst the waves I raise my voice It sounds with praise with which it lauds itself, And though I ever sing, no one applauds. "

 "Spontaneous coming, I show various forms, I feign vain fears, when there is no true conflict, But no one can see me till he shuts his eyes. "

 "By art four equal sisters run As if in contest, though the labour's one, And both are near, nor can each other touch. "[32]

We know little of Macrobius except that he was a Greek, and lived in thefifth century. His principal work was his "Saturnalia, " and he selectedfor it this title and plan, because, as he tells us, men were in his dayso much occupied with business, that it was only in the annual festivalof misrule that they had any time for reflection or social intercourse. The "Saturnalia, " occupied the greater part of December, and Macrobiusrepresents a company of magnates and wits agreeing to meet daily todiscuss in the morning topics of importance, and to spend the evening inlight and jocund conversation. His work treats of astronomy, mythology, poetry and rhetoric, but it is most interesting with regard to ourpresent subject, where he brings before us one of those scenes ofconvivial merriment of which we have often heard. The party are torelate humorous anecdotes in turn. Avienus says that they should beintellectual not voluptuous, to which the president, Prætextatus, replies, that they will not banish pleasure as an enemy, nor consider itto be the greatest good. After these suggestions they commence:--

Prætextatus records a saying of Hannibal. Antiochus, to whom he hadfled, showed him in a plain a vast army he had collected to make warwith the Romans; the men were adorned with gold and silver, there werechariots with scythes, elephants with towers, cavalry shining withornamental bits and housings. Then turning to Hannibal, he asked him ifhe thought they would be enough for the Romans. The Carthaginian, smiling at the weakness and cowardice of the gaudily accoutred host, replied, "Certainly, I think they will be enough for them, howevergreedy they may be. "

Furius Albinus says that after the flight at Mutina, on some lady askingwhat Antony was doing, one of his friends replied, "What the dogs do inEgypt--drink and run!" "It is well known, " he adds, "that there the dogsrun while they drink, for fear of the crocodiles. "

Avenienus says that the sister of Faustus, the son of Sylla, had twolovers--one of them, Fulvius, the son of a fuller; the other Pomponius, nick-named Spot. "I wonder, " he said, "that my sister should have aspot, when she has a fuller. "

The remaining guests speak more at length, and their discourses occupy aconsiderable portion of the book. 

The example set by Martial gradually led to a considerable developmentof epigrammatic literature. A humorous epigram survives, written byTrajan on a man with a large nose:

 "By placing your nose and gaping mouth opposite the sun You will tell wayfarers the hour. "

Justinian in the sixth century is supposed to have assisted Paul theSilentiary--a sort of master of the ceremonies--in his compositions; butit may be hoped that the Emperor was not an accomplice in producing theimpurities with which they are disfigured. Here and there, however, afew sweet flowers are found in his poisonous garland. We may hope thathe often received such a cool welcome as that he commemorates in his"Drenched Lover. "

Hierocles and Philagrius are supposed to have lived in the fifthcentury, but the jests and stories which bear their names seem to bemuch later. They are based upon violations of the primary laws of natureand mind, but have not the subtlety of the syllogistic quibbles, whichwere the work of learned grammarians or the logicians of a betterperiod. Being little more than Bulls, they excite scarcely any emotionand no laughter, although evincing a certain cleverness. The hero isgenerally a "Scholastic, " who is represented as a sort of fool. A friendof Scholasticus going abroad asks him to buy him some books. Scholasticus forgets all about it, and when he meets his friend on hisreturn, says, "By the way, I never received that letter you wrote aboutthe books. " A man meeting Scholasticus says, "The slave you sold medied. " "Did he? By the gods, " replied the other, "he never played methat trick. " Scholasticus meeting a friend exclaims, "Why, I heard youwere dead!" The other replies, "Well, I tell you that I'm alive. " "Yes, "persists Scholasticus, "but the man who told me so was more veraciousthan you!" A promising son apostrophizes his father, "Base varlet! don'tyou see how you have wronged me? If you had never been born and stood inthe way I should have come into all my grandfather's money. "

The humour which has come to us from classic times, brings the life ofancient Greece and Rome near to our own firesides. It is not that of aprimitive or decaying civilization, but of one advanced and matured, resembling our own, in which density of population has brought aclashing of interests, and enlarged knowledge has produced a variety ofthought upon a great multiplicity of home and foreign subjects. We canthus bridge over two thousand years, and obtain, as it were, a grasp ofthe Past, in which we find men so very like ourselves, not only in theirstrong emotions, but in their little conceits and vanities, and theiropinions of each other. 

ENGLISH HUMOUR. 

CHAPTER I. 

MIDDLE AGES. 

Relapse of Civilization in the Middle Ages--Stagnation of Mind--Scarcity of Books--Character of reviving Literature--Religious Writings--Fantastic Legends--Influence of the Crusades--Romances--Sir Bevis of Hamptoun--Prominence of the Lower Animals--Allegories. 

Those ancient philosophers who believed in a mundane year and aperiodical repetition of the world's history, would have found aremarkable corroboration of their theory in the retrogression oflearning during the middle ages, and its subsequent gradual revival. This re-birth contained all the leading characteristics of the originaldevelopment of thought, although, amid the darkness, the torch handeddown from the past afforded occasionally some flickering light. Thegreat cause of the disappearance of literature and civilization was, ofcourse, the sword of the Goths, which made the rich countries ofSouthern Europe, a wilderness and desolation. A lesser cause was theintolerance of the ecclesiastics, who, in their detestation of Pagansuperstition and immorality endeavoured to destroy all classicalwritings which touched upon mythological subjects, or contained unseemlyallusions. But, although we regret its action in this respect, and theintellectual stagnation thus generally produced, we must admit that weare indebted to the Church for the preservation of many valuable works. There were many men of learning in the monasteries, and some ofsufficient enlightenment to be able to venerate the relics of Greek andLatin literature. We find that in the East the works of Aristophaneswere so much admired by St. Chrysostom that he slept with them under hispillow. Perhaps the Saint enjoyed the reflections of the comedian uponthe superstitions of his day, or he may have had a secret liking for thedrama, and in one place he observes how much the world resembles astage. There seems to have been a conflict in his breast, as no doubtthere was in many at the time, between love of the classics andreligious scruples; he tells us that he dreamed one night that he wasbeing whipped by the devil for reading Cicero. 

We may observe that the Eastern world was not at this time in such abenighted state. Theodosius the younger founded in A. D. 425, an academy and library at Constantinople, which, when it was destroyedby the Turks contained 120, 000 volumes. Nothing brings before us moreforcibly the state of ignorance in which the Western world was now sunkthan the scarcity of books. The price of them in the middle ages was sogreat that a man who presented one to a monastery, thought he meritedeternal salvation. Documents were drawn up and duly signed when a bookpassed from one person to another--and in the eighth century a libraryof 150 volumes was regarded as something magnificent. [33]

The state of ignorance among the Saxons may be imagined from the factthat Alfred was twelve years old before he could get a master capable ofteaching him the alphabet, and even after the invention of paper in theeleventh century books were very scarce. The cause of the scanty supplyof literature was not only the general destruction which had takenplace, but also that there was no demand for it. Archbishop Lanfranc, with a view to improve education in England, directed in 1072 that abook should be given to each of the monks, who were to be allowed a yearto read it, and what follows gives us some idea of the indolence ofthese representatives of learning, for it was ordered that if the monkhas not then read it he is to prostrate himself, and ask pardon of theabbot. The monks of Winchester were probably not much troubled in thisway, for some time afterwards the library of the bishop of that dioceseonly consisted of seven books. What must then have been the ignorance ofthe masses of the population! We should scarcely believe that such arelapse could have taken place had we not seen the centres ofcivilization in the world successively succumbing, and the greatestcities becoming desolate, and did we not reflect that, but for suchvicissitudes, mankind must have attained a far greater degree ofexcellence than has been reached at the present day. 

The first kind of composition attempted by the mind of man is that whichexpresses religious feelings, and the idea that there exists a beinggreater than himself. That dim searching after something beyondexperience could seldom confine itself to its legitimate direction, butby dreams and hopes, and by the love of the marvellous--that earlysource of idealism--strayed into a variety of fabulous and legendarymazes. Hence arose all the strange and grotesque myths about heathengods and Christian saints which occupy the shadowy borders betweenchaos and history. The stories which were current in this country inearly times spoke of miracles worked by the Virgin, represented St. Christopher as a giant twenty-four feet high, and related how "SeyntPateryk" banished the "wormes" from Ireland; or sometimes would drawfrom the rich mine of Rabbinical tradition such allegorical fictions asthat, when Noah planted the vine, Satan was present and sacrificed asheep, a lion, an ape, and a sow, representing the different stages ofinebriety. [34]

But man's awakening thoughts turn not only to his Protector above, butalso to his enemies below, and thus the exploits of warlike heroes, whogenerally combine the religious with the military character, easilybecame tempting themes for the exercise of fancy. 

There is reason to believe that the earliest British legends recordedthe glories of King Arthur--the defender of Christianity against theworshippers of Odin. The origin of these accounts have been traced bysome to Scandinavian, by some to Arabian sources, but we may supposethem to have arisen among those ancient British people who inhabitedWales and Cornwall, [35] and passed over in the fifth and sixth centuriesto Brittany (Armorica). It matters little for our present purpose whencethey came, they were full of extravagant and supernatural occurrences. The names of two shadowy warriors, Sir Bevis and Sir Guy, seem to havebeen handed down from Saxon times, probably by oral tradition; theformer is said to have performed prodigies of valour in the South, andthe latter in the North of England. The literature which has come downto us from this date (with the exception of an ode of triumph) is purelyof a religious character, and adorned with a variety of miraculouscircumstances--a considerable part of it consists of the hymns ofCædmon, an ignorant cowherd, who was inspired to sing by an angelappearing to him in a vision. 

Bede's Ecclesiastical History is full of strange stories, and althoughAcca, his contemporary, adorned his cathedral of Hexham inNorthumberland with what was then considered to be a magnificentlibrary, it was entirely composed of histories of the Apostles andmartyrs to whose relics he had dedicated the altars of his church. [36]Meanwhile, the glorification of Charlemagne and his paladins, the greatchampions of Christendom, exercised the invention of the minstrels ofFrance. But activity of mind increasing, additional subjects forentertainment were demanded, and the old pagan kings and heroes appearedin entirely new characters. The marvellous and magnificent career ofAlexander the Great seemed to invite a little additional ornamentation, and the Roman Emperors were introduced in very fantastic habiliments. 

It would seem that traditional accounts of Roman times had beenpreserved in some of the Western monasteries, as well as portions of theold Homeric and mythological history in Latin translations[37]--Greekhad been fading out of Europe since the time of Theodosius. No doubtthere were still here and there a few genuine classical books, and wehear of Aristotle being prized--the obscurity and subtlety of his workshaving led to his being now regarded as a magician. 

The following will give some idea of the kind of stories thenappreciated. A beautiful princess, nourished with poison, was sent as apresent to Alexander. Aristotle discovered the danger, and a slave wasordered to kiss her, who immediately fell down dead. 

The gigantic body of Pallas, the son of Evander, was found at Rome. Itexceeded in height the walls of the city, and had remained uncorrupted, and accompanied with a burning lamp for two hundred and forty years. Hiswound was fresh, and we may suppose caused instant death, for it wasfour feet and a half long. 

Magical rings are often mentioned. There is some pretty sentiment in thestory of Vespasian and a wife whom he had married in a distant country. She refuses to return home with him, and yet declares that she will killherself if he leaves her. The Emperor orders two rings to be made, onebearing the image of Oblivion, the other that of Memory. The former hegives to the Empress, the latter he wears himself. 

Virgil, who is represented as an enchanter, places a magical image inthe centre of Rome, which every day communicates to the Emperor Titusall the secret offences committed in the city. 

From such fanciful sources, and with a discrimination such as theydisplay, Geoffrey of Monmouth drew up in the eleventh century a fabuloushistory of England. His story of Gogmagog, the British giant, supposedto have been destroyed by Brutus, the great grandson of Æneas, on hislanding in this country, is said to have been derived from that of twoArabian giants Gog and Magog. The stones which compose Stonehenge, eachcontaining some medicinal virtue, are fabled to have been transported bygiants from the deserts of Africa to Ireland, and to have been carriedthence by Merlin's enchantment to form a monument over the British slainby Hengist. The state of criticism existing at this time may be imaginedfrom the fact that even afterwards, in the reign of Edward I. , thedescent of the Britons from the Trojans through Brutus was solemnlyalleged in a controversy of great importance concerning the subjectionof the crown of England to that of Scotland, showing an amount ofcredulity which might almost have credited the legend that St. James, mounted on horseback, led the Christian armies in Spain in their battlesagainst the Moors, or that there was in that country a golden image ofMahomet as high as a bird could fly, in which the false prophet hadsealed up a legion of devils. 

But the imaginative powers were soon to be developed upon moreattractive themes. War and Religion were about to be blended in thegrand drama of the Crusades, prompted alike by zeal for the faith, byhatred of the Moslem, and by thirst for military glory. The first noblesof the West arrayed themselves in their armour, collected theirretainers, and set out for the lands of the rising sun. Here they cameinto contact with an Eastern civilization, ornate and dazzling, superiorto their own, but still in a state of childhood, and revelling in thefanciful creations which please the infantine mind. [38] Foremost amongthe Christian knights went the Barons of Provence, accompanied by troopsof minstrels--troubadours to sing their praises; and we might wellsuppose that some of the wonders of the dreaming East would now findtheir way into Europe, interwoven with the doughty deeds of theChristian heroes. This view is corroborated by the fact that almost allour early romances recount some great exploits performed against theSaracens; but the marvels they relate, from whatever source they come, were in accordance with the times in which they were written, for asalchemy preceded chemistry, so romance-writing was the commencement ofliterature. Some of the Arabian stories had considerable grace andbeauty, and are even now attractive to the young. But whether our poetsborrowed from this prolific source or not, it is certain that about thistime they became more ambitious, and produced regular tales ofconsiderable length, in which the northern gallantry towards the fairsex was combined with extravagances resembling those of Easterninvention. 

Not until this time were the early heroic legends of this countrydeveloped, and committed to writing, and as they appeared first inFrench, some writers--among whom is Ritson--have concluded that theywere merely the offspring of our neighbours' fertile imagination. Butalthough the poets who recounted these stories wrote in French, theywere in attendance at the English Court, in which, even before theConquest, French was the language used, while Latin was that of thelearned, and Saxon that of the country-people. Henry the First, thegreat patron of letters, sometimes held his Court at Caen, so that theNorman poets who were competing for his favour, were doubtless familiarwith the legendary history of England. The first important works in theFrench language seem to have come from Normandy, and it is notimprobable that some of them were written in England. They were calledromances, because they were composed in one of the languages of SouthernEurope, containing a large element of the Roman, which we find was stillused among the soldiery as late as the seventh century. It has beensupposed that all our early Anglo-Norman romances were translations fromthe French, except the "Squyr of Lowe Degre, " and of some the originalsare still extant. 

These productions, from whatever source they came, were the kind ofliterature most acceptable at the time. There seemed then nothing harshor contemptibly puerile in stories we should now relegate to thenursery, and no doubt people derived an amusement from them, for whichthat of humour was afterwards gradually substituted. 

Examples of such stories are found in that of Robert, King of Sicily, who for his pride was changed, like Nebuchadnezzar, into one of thelower animals, and in that of Richard "Coeur de Lion, " who rode ahorse possessed by the devil, and whose wife flew away like a bird. 

In the romance of Sir Bevis of Hamtoun, (Earl of Southampton, ) he isrepresented as a kind of infant Hercules, who, when fifteen, killedsixty Saracen knights. He afterwards was imprisoned at Damascus in a denwith two dragons, but destroyed them. He was kept in a dungeon, however, and

 "Rats and mice, and such small deer, Was his meat that seven year. "

During this time he was cheered by an angel visiting him. An adversaryshortly appears in Ascapard:

 "This geaunt was mighty and strong, And full thirty foot was long, He was bristled like a sow; A foot he had between each brow. His lips were great, and hung aside, His eyen were hollow, his mouth was wide, Lothy he was to look on than, And liker a devil than a man. "

He was overcome, and became page to Sir Bevis. Ascapard is very useful, as he is able to take Bevis, Josyan, and even the horse Arundel underhis arm. An attempt at humour is introduced here, which is said to haveamused the people of Cologne. The bishop prepared to christen the giant, "For Ascapard was made a tun, And when he should therein be done, He lept out upon the brench (brink) And said, 'Churl! wilt thou me drench? The devil of hell mote fetche thee! I am too much (big) christened to be!'"

We will finish this sketch of the romancing tendencies of our earlyliterature by a description of a dragon from "Sir Degoré:"

 "There was a dragon great and grymme, Full of fyre, and also venymme, Wyth a wyde throte, and tuskes grete, Uppon that knygte fast gan he bete, And as a lyon then was hys feete, Hys tayle was long, and full unmeete; Between hys head and hys tayle Was xxii fote withouten fayle; His body was lyke a wyne tonne, He shone ful bryght agaynst the sunne; Hys eyen were bryght as any glasse, Hys scales were hard as any brasse: And thereto he was necked lyke a horse, He bore hys hed up wyth grete force; The breth of hys mouth that did not blow As yt had been a fyre on lowe. He was to loke on, as I you telle As yt had been a fiende of helle. "

These romances were often called "Gestes, " from the great "Gesta" orexploits they recorded. 

The author of "Cursor Mundi, " a book of religious legends, says, "Men lykyn jestis for to here And romans rede in divers manere Of Alexandre the conquerour, Of Julius Cæsar the Emperour, &c. "

It may be doubted whether such tales as the above were ever regarded astrue, but it was not until thought became more active that the falsityof them was fully appreciated, and "jests" gradually acquired theirpresent signification. The word romance has also come to be used notonly for a pleasant poetical narrative, but especially for somethingutterly devoid of truth. "Story" is used in the same sense, but not"novel, " for in our present works of fiction there is seldom so muchimprobability as to be offensive in our day, though it may be so to oursuccessors. 

In the above extracts it may have been observed that there is aprominence and importance given to the lower animals which we should notfind in writings of the present day. As civilization fell back intobarbarism, fables re-appeared, and some indifferent literature of thiskind was produced in the fourth century by Aphthonius in Greek, andafterwards by Flavius Avianus in Latin. In the Saxon ode on the victoryof Athelstan, a very particular account is given of the beasts of preypresent at the carnage. 

Theodosius, the blind Emperor, is said to have been restored to sight bya serpent, whom he had benefited, coming in while he was asleep, andplacing a precious stone upon his eyes. In one of the early romances ofMarie, a baron is transformed into a bisclaveret, [39] or wolf, for threedays every week, much to his wife's discomfort; in another a falconchanges into a knight, who is finally caught in a bird-trap; in anothera lady falls into a trance, and is supposed to be dead, until her rival, seeing a weasel restore another one by placing a vermilion flower in itsmouth, she places it in the lady's mouth and thus awakens her. The sameelement is largely present in the other romances. 

Alexander Neckam, who lived in the latter part of the twelfth century, shows how fond our forefathers were of animals, and how they kept themin their houses. The castles were often full of them, some roving about, others necessarily in confinement. Monkeys were in high favour. Some ofthem were taught to fight as in a tournament, which we are told causedgreat laughter. In mediæval times there was a love of all kinds ofhybrid animals, and there was a certain amount of belief that all sortsof monsters came from the East or North. Giraldus Cambrensis tells usthat there were in Ireland such mixtures as half ox and half man, halfdog and half monkey. 

All these stories remind us of the fabular period in old Greek history, and bespeak a time, when both taste and knowledge were in their infancy;but when, at the same time, the rays of the ideal were breaking upon themind, and "men appeared as trees walking. "

Allied to a love of fabling was that of allegory, which, as soon asliterary activity began to appear in the early church, produced anabundant harvest. This tendency exhibited itself in the first progressof thought in England. Philippe de Than, one of the most ancientAnglo-Norman poets, wrote a work describing the character of each birdand beast, upon which he grounded moral reflections. Robert Grosseteste, Bishop of Lincoln, who died in 1253, was celebrated for a copiousdissertation on mystical divinity, and a poem is extant ascribed to him, called the "Castle of Love" by Leland, in which the creation andredemption are represented as an allegory--our Lord being supposed toenter a magnificent castle, the body of the Virgin. The "GestaRomanorum" strongly exhibits the want of discrimination at this time, for although the dramatis personæ are generally Roman Emperors, thedeepest Christian mysteries are supposed to be shadowed forth by theiractions. Some of the stories are evidently invented to enforce religiousteaching. We read of an angel accompanying a hermit on his wanderings, the angel robs or murders all who receive him, but explains afterwardsthat it is for their good. He gives a golden goblet to a rich man whorefuses to entertain them, to comfort him in this world, as he will goto hell in the next. 

Vincent of Beauvais, a learned Dominican of France, who flourished inthe thirteenth century, observes that it was a practice of preachers torouse their congregation by relating a fable of Æsop. In the BritishMuseum there is a collection of two hundred and fifteen stories, romantic, allegorical, and legendary, evidently compiled for the use ofmonastic preachers. Mystic similitudes were at this time greatlyaffected in all branches of learning. In the "Romaunt of the Rose, " thedifficulties of a lover are represented under the form of a man seekinga rose in an inaccessible garden. This flower, alchemists considered tobe emblematic of the Philosopher's Stone, while theologians referred itto the white rose of Jericho--a state of grace into which the wickedcould not enter. 

CHAPTER II. 

Anglo-Saxon Humour--Rhyme--Satires against the Church--The Brunellus--Walter Mapes--Goliardi--Piers the Ploughman--Letters of Obscure Men--Erasmus--The Praise of Folly--Skelton--The Ship of Fools--Doctour Doubble Ale--The Sak full of Nuez--Church Ornamentation--Representations of the Devil. 

The rude character of the Anglo-Saxon humour may be gathered from ourhaving derived from it the word _fun_. This term which we often apply toromping and boisterous games, refers principally to the sense offeeling, and always implies some low kind of amusement connected withthe senses. We also discover among the Anglo-Saxons an unamiabletendency to give nicknames to people from their personal peculiarities. But if we look for anything better, we can find only a translation ofthe Latin riddles of Symposius by Aldhelm, Bishop of Shirburn. Thisprelate, who was a relation of Ina, King of the West Saxons, was inattainments far superior to his age. He was celebrated as a harper, poet, and theologian, and wrote several works, especially one in praiseof Virginity. His translations from Symposius were probably intendedfor the post-prandial delectation of the monks. 

Aristophanes seems to have made the first approach to rhyming, for heintroduced some repetitions of the same word at the end of lines. Heprobably thought the device had an absurd effect and used it as a kindof humour. Aulus Gellius blames Isocrates, who lived about 400B. C. , for introducing jingles into his orations, and as he alsorefers to Lucilius' condemnation of them, he would probably haveobjected to them in poetry. 

Classic Latin versification is supposed to have died out withFortunatus, Bishop of Poitiers in the sixth century, but an advance wasmade towards playing with words by the introduction of rhymes in thechurch hymns. Some trace of them is found in the verses of Hilary in thefourth century, but we find them first regularly adopted in a Latinpanegyric written for Clotaire II. In France at the commencement of theseventh. Some suppose that "Leonine verses" were invented shortlyafterwards by Pope Leo II. As in the days of Greece and Rome, thedevelopment of poetry was accompanied by a considerable activity in thefabrication of metres. This did not limit itself to a distich oralternate rhyme called "tailed" or "interlaced, " but included the"horned, " "crested, " and "squared" verses--the last forming doubleacrostics. Sometimes half a dozen lines were made to rhyme together. This movement, pedantic as it was, showed an advance in findingsimilarities in things dissimilar, a change in the appreciation of theharmony. Previously rhymes were considered ludicrous, as they seem to usnow in prose, and even in the French drama. The old Welsh poetrydepended merely upon alliteration--as in the words ascribed to theBritish Queen--

 "Ruin seize thee, ruthless king. "

And among our old proverbs we have "Many men of many minds. " "Foolsbuild houses, for wise men to live in. " "First come, first served. " Themotto of the Duke of Athole runs "Furth fortune and fill the fetters. "

The "Exeter Book, " presented to his cathedral by Leofric, first Bishopof Exeter in 1046 deserves notice, as indicative of the course of earlyAnglo-Saxon literature. Here we have first religious meditations andlegends of Saints, then proverbial, or as they are called "gnomic"verses, next allegorical descriptions by means of animals, and finallyriddles. The last are very long, and generally consist of emblematicdescriptions. 

It is a part of the great system of compensation under which we live, that those who are most highly praised are most exposed to the attacksof the envious, and that those who stand on an eminence above othersshould have their bad as well as their good deeds recorded. And thus wefind that the earliest shafts of censure were directed against princesand priests, and the first Norman satires of which we hear were somesongs called Sirventois, against Arnould, who was chaplain to RobertCourthose in the time of William Rufus. He was apparently an excellentman, established schools at Caen, and was afterwards promoted to bepatriarch of Jerusalem. The next attack of which we have any record wasthat made by Luc de la Barr against Henry I. The nature of theimputations it contained may be conjectured from the fact, that the kingordered the writer's eyes to be put out. Another satire was directedagainst Richard, "King of the Romans, " who was taken prisoner at Lewes. It was written to triumph over him, and taunt him with his defeat, andthe nearest approach to humour in it is where it speaks of his making acastle of a windmill, which is supposed to refer to his having beencaptured in such a building. The humour in the satires of this time wasalmost entirely of a hostile or optical character. We have two metricalballads of the thirteenth century directed against the Scotch andFrench, but containing little but animosity. There is also onecomplaining of heavy taxation in the reign of Edward I. , but generallythe church was attacked, as the clergy formed a prominent mark in everyparish in the country, and were safer game than the king or barons. Thus, in the Harleian MSS. , there is an ancient French poem pretendingto eulogise a new conventual order for both men and women, who are tolive together in great luxury and be bound to perpetual idleness. Several monasteries in England are mentioned as affording instances ofsuch a mode of living. 

The earliest literary assault we have on the church in this country waswritten probably in the thirteenth century--Warton says, soon after theconquest--in a mixture of Saxon and Norman. A monastery, composed ofvarious kinds of gems and delicacies, represents the luxury of themonks--

 "Fur in see, bi west Spayngne Is a lond ihote Cokaygne: Ther nis lond under heuen-riche Of wel of godness hit iliche. 

 "Ther is a wel fair abbei, Of white monkes and of grei, Ther beth bowris and halles Al of pasteiis beth the walles Of fleis, of fisse, and rich met, The likfullist that man mai et. Fluren cakes beth the schingles[40] alle Of cherche, cloister, boure, and halle. The pinnes[41] beth fat podinges Rich met to princez and kinges. 

 "An other abbei is ther bi For soth a gret fair nunnerie; Vp a riuer of sweet milke, Whar is gret plente of silk. "

He goes on to speak of the monks and nuns as dancing together in a veryindecorous manner. 

The clergy were often humorous themselves--Nigellus Wireker, a monk ofCanterbury, who is supposed to have lived in the time of Richard I. , wrote a very amusing attack on his brethren. It is in Latin elegiacverse, and as being directed against ambition and discontent may becompared with the first satire of Horace. But he wrote in a lessadvanced state of civilisation to that in which the Roman poet lived, and he carries on his discourse by means of conversations of animals. The work is called the Brunellus--the name of an ass. 

The poem is directed against passion and avarice--and especially againstthe monks, who, he says deserve to be called pastors, not _a pascendo_but _a poscendo_. But he takes so much interest in the animals heintroduces, that he seems to lose sight of his moral object. He delightsin the speeches of a cock and crow, but his main story is that the ass, Brunellus, is dissatisfied, because, having long ears he thinks he oughtto have a long tail. He betakes himself to Galienus to consult him, whoendeavours to dissuade him from adopting any surgical or medical means, and reminds him that if he has a short tail he has a very large head. Heinculcates contentment by a story of two cows, one of which, throughimpatience when her tail has stuck in the mud, says it is not an_honour_ but an _onus_, and so pulls it off, and becomes a laughingstock to the world. The other cow waits patiently, and makes a longspeech containing references to Cato and the Trojan war. 

Prescription given by Galienus to the ass Brunellus to make his tailgrow:

 "Some marble's fat and seven fold furnace shade The offspring of a male and female mule, A little of the milk of goose and kite A punchbowl's racing, and a wolf's alarms; Of dogs and hares alliance take a drachm, And kisses which the lark gives to her hawk. "

The ass begs Galienus to bestow upon him his blessing, which he doeswith mock gravity--

 "May Jove to thee a thousand omens give, And to thy tail ten thousand omens more; Mayst thou drink water, and on thistles feed, Be thy bed marble, and thy covering dew. May hail and snow and rain be ever near, Ice and hoar frost thy constant comfort be!"

The ass, whose extraordinary performances are narrated, is appointed the"nuntius" of a bishop. 

The man who showed at this time the greatest judgment in humour andinsight into its nature, was John of Salisbury. His Polycraticus isworthy of a religious character; but he speaks in it of "Court Trifles"under which he places dice, music and dreams. Many of his observationsshow a taste and knowledge in advance of his time. "Our age, " he says, "has fallen back to fables, " and he speaks as though the jesters of theday indulged in very questionable jokes and performances. He notices theforce of a jest made by a man who would himself fall under it, as when apauper laughs at poverty. Also he refers to the effect of accusing a manof the faults to which his virtues may lead, as of telling a liberal manhe is a spendthrift. "So Diogenes told Antisthenes, his master, that hehad made him a doctor instead of a rich man--a dweller in a tub, insteadof in a mansion. " Well-timed pleasantries, he says, are of use inoratory, but convivial jesting is dangerous, remarks or personal defectsare objectionable, and as Lycurgus ordered, all jokes should be withoutbitterness. 

But Walter Mapes seems to have been the first man of note, whoreconciled "divinity and wit. " He was born on the borders of Wales aboutthe beginning of the twelvth century, and having studied at theUniversity of Paris became a favourite of Henry II. , and was made aCanon of St. Paul's, and Archdeacon of Oxford. It may be worth noticethat his name was really a monosyllable, "Map, " a man's appellationbeing not always without influence in determining his character andconduct. From being a man of humour he obtained the credit of being aman of pleasure, but as far as we can collect from the writings, whichare with certainty attributed to him, he was strongly imbued withreligious feelings. He delights to recount the miracles of saints. Peterof Tarentaise exorcised, he tells us, a devil from one possessed, andthe man proved his cure by exclaiming, "Mother of God, have mercy uponme!" whereupon John the bishop said of Peter. "This is the onlybishop--the rest of us are dogs unable to bark. " Mapes also reflects thecredulity of the age in which he lived, by narrating extraordinarystories of infidels walking about after death, and calling people byname, who always died shortly afterwards. He gives us a collection ofWelsh "apparitions. "

We must suppose that even at that day there was something peculiarlyfanciful in the mind of the man who collected such tales. But, althoughhe commends his favourite saints as being jocund and pleasant men, weare disappointed when we look for his own wit. It is either verbal orsententious, and does not rise higher than, "Few things are impossibleto women. " "May God omnipotent grant you not to be deceived by womanomnipotent. " "The dog does not gnaw a dry bone, nor the leech stick toan empty vein. " His "Mirror of the Church" is full of violent attacksupon the monastic orders, especially the Cistercian, evidently writtenin serious indignation, although he sometimes indulges in a play uponwords. In this he was unlike many writers, who attacked the monks merelyto amuse, for which there was a good opening, as the brethren, though insome cases weak, were generally viewed with respect, and tales aboutthem were easily regarded as humorous. There is a story of Walter Mapeshaving been called to see a Cistercian Abbot, when dangerously ill, andthe Archdeacon recommended him to quit his order, and give up avariceand rapacity. The Abbot refused, and even administered to the Archdeaconthe rebuke, "Get thee behind me, Satan. " Shortly afterwards Mapes wastaken ill, and the Abbot going to visit him, strongly recommended him torenounce his light jesting habits, to give up his pluralities, and takerefuge in the bosom of the Cistercian order--at the same time producinga gown and cowl, with which he proposed to invest him. Mapes, withcharacteristic humour called his servants, and told them that, if everin a fit of sickness he expressed a desire of becoming a monk, theywere to consider it a sign that he had lost his senses, and keep him inclose confinement. 

The character which Mapes obtained for himself, caused a large amount ofpoetry of a somewhat later date to be attributed to him. It is called"Goliardic, " as it gives the views of a class of wild ecclesiastical orUniversity men, who spent their time in composing lampoons, and werecalled Goliards, from their supposed gluttony. In an epigram, one ofthese men is represented coming to a bishop's palace, and stating thathe is "all ready to dine, " somewhat in the way of the old Greekparasites. The bishop tells him he does not want such disreputablecompany, but that as he has come, he may have his food. We may suppose, however, that he and his poorer brethren did not occupy any dignifiedposition at the repast, as one of them complains

 "Abbas ire sede sursum, Et prioris juxta ipsum, Ego semper stavi dorsum Inter rascalilia. "

All these poems are in Latin rhyme. Two of them are especiallyattributed to Mapes. One is "on not marrying;" Golias here sets forth avery appalling catalogue of the miseries of matrimony. The husband is adonkey who is spurned by his wife. Her tongue is a sword. He thanksheaven he has escaped from the danger he was once in from thefascinations of a beautiful lady. The other piece is the "Confessions ofGolias, " which are very frank with regard to various unclericalweaknesses. Some of the stanzas may be translated as follows, "I purpose in a tavern to die, Place to my dying lips the flowing bowl, May choirs of angels coming from on high Sing, 'God be gracious to the toper's soul. '[42]

 "The race of poets shun both drink and food, Avoid disputes, withdraw from public strife, And to make verses that shall long hold good O'ercome with labour, sacrifice their life. 

 "Nature allots to each his proper course, In hunger I could never use my ink, The smallest boy then equals me in force, I hate as death the want of food and drink. "

In one of these poems, Golias calls down every kind of misery, spiritualand temporal, upon the man who has stolen his purse. He hopes he may dieof fever and madness, and be joined to Judas in hell. One of the mostamusing pieces is a consultation held among the priests, on account ofthe Pope having ordered them to dismiss their women-servants. Theyfinally come to the conclusion that parish priests should be allowed twowives, monks and canons three, and deans and bishops four or five. Weare not surprised to hear that such effusions as these called down thedispleasure of the heads of the Church, and in 1289, a statute waspublished that no clerks should be "joculatores, goliardi seu bufones. "

About the middle of the fourteenth century, a French monk, RobertLanglande, wrote the "Vision of Piers Plowman, " an account of a dream heis supposed to have had when among the Malvern Hills. It is possiblethat the sight of the grand old abbey may have suggested his theme, forhe inveighs not only against the laity, but especially against theecclesiastics for their neglect of the poor. The poem is remarkable forbeing without rhythm, but alliterative, such as was common in theneighbouring district of Wales. It somewhat resembles one of the old"Mysteries, " introducing a variety of allegorical characters. Some ofthe personifications are very strange. He says that, "Dowel and Dobet and Dobest the thirde coth he Arn thre fair vertues and ben not fer to fynde. "

 "Dobest is above bothe, and berith a bieschopis crois And is hokid on that on ende to halie men fro helle And a pike is in the poynt to putte adon the wyked. "

In another place, the effects of starvation are described "both theman's eiyen wattred, " and "he loked like a lanterne. "

In another work by the same hand, "Piers, the Ploughman's crede, " theauthor--a simple man--wishes to know how he is to follow Christ, andbetakes himself to the friars for information. But he finds that eachorder thinks of little beyond railing against some other. The friarspreachers are thus described, "Than turned I ayen whan I hadde al ytoted And fond in a freitoure a frere on a benche A greet chorl and a grym, growen as a tonne, With a face so fat, as a ful bleddere Blowen bretful of breth, and as a bagge honged. "

All the humour of Piers the Ploughman seems to be more or less of thispersonal kind. 

We must here notice the humorous though scurrilous attack made upon theRoman clergy in the "Letters of Obscure Men, " published in Germany atthe commencement of the sixteenth century. There was something novel inthe idea of a series of ironical letters, and from their appearance, thesteady progress of the Reformation may be dated. The greater part ofthem seems to have been written by Ulrich von Hutten, and are addressedto Ortuin Gratius, a professor of the University of Cologne, who hadattacked Reuchlin, a celebrated Hebraist. The original quarrel was onlyabout some translations of Rabbinical works, but it extended into acontest between the Church party, represented by Gratius, and thosedesirous of reformation. Doctrine is scarcely touched upon in theseletters, but accusations of immorality abound. There is great varietyin the plan upon which the irony and satire are conducted. For instance, the writer says he has just heard from Gratius that he is sendingflowers and gifts to another man's wife. "Reuchlin has written a defenceof himself against Gratius, in which he calls him an ass. Reuchlin oughtto be burnt with his book. Some people say the monks are grosslydishonest--it is a horrible lie. A preacher, after taking a little toomuch wine, has actually said that the principals of the University aregiven to drink and play. Some profane men say that the coat of our Lordat Treves is not genuine, but only an old rag; he does not believe thereis now any hair of the Virgin in the world; and the preaching friars whosell indulgences are only a set of buffoons who deceive old apple-women. Another fool says that the preaching friars committed fearfulabominations at Berne, and one day put poison into the consecratedelements. A great calamity has happened! A thief has stolen threehundred florins, which the preachers had gained by the sale ofindulgences. The people who gave the money are in sad trouble to knowwhether they still have absolution--they need not be alarmed, they haveas much as they had before they gave their money to the friars. Query. Is it a sin to play at dice in order to buy indulgences? Gratius, in aletter to another Father of the Church, expresses his astonishment athearing that he thinks so much about the ladies. Such thoughts come fromthe devil; wherever they are suggested, he must make the sign of thecross on his back, and put a pinch of blessed salt on his tongue. Womenmake him ill by employing charms and sorceries against him; it is nowonder, for he has grey hair and eyes, a red face, a large nose, and acorporation. No man should ever make use of necromancy to obtain awoman's love, for a student of theology once fell in love with a baker'sdaughter at Leipzig, and threw an enchanted apple at her, [43] whichcaused her to fall violently in love with him, and finally led to ascandal in the church. "

No one enjoyed these epistles more thoroughly than Erasmus, [44] who, perhaps, from being himself a monk, appreciated them the better. He issaid to have laughed so immoderately over some parts of them, that heburst an abscess, which might have proved fatal to him. He was one ofthose few celebrated men who combine both humour and learning, and heseems to have imbibed somewhat of the spirit of Lucian, whose works hetranslated, and who also lived in an age of religious controversy andtransition. There was such a love of amusement, and so littleearnestness in Erasmus, that he could laugh on both sides of thequestion, with the Reformers and against them. When the monks told himthat Luther had married a nun, and that the offspring of such an unholyalliance must needs be Antichrist, he merely replied: "Already are theremany Antichrists!" Writing to a zealous Catholic in London, he says"that he grudges the heretics their due, because that, whereas winter isapproaching, it will raise the price of fagots. " In another place heattacks dignities: "No situation, " he says, "could be more wretched thanthat of the vicegerents of Christ, if they endeavoured to followChrist's life. " There was scarcely anything sacred or profane which wassafe from the lash of his ridicule, and if, as some say, he sowed theseeds of the Reformation, it was mostly because he could not resist thetemptation to laugh at the clergy. He wrote a very characteristic Workentitled "The Praise of Folly, " "Encomium Moriæ" (a play on the name ofSir Thomas More), in which he maintains a sort of paradox, setting forththe value and advantages of folly, _i. E. _, of indulging the lightfancies and errors of imagination. With much humorous illustration heenumerates a great many conceits, and includes among them jests, but hismain argument may be thus condensed. [45]

"Who knows not that man's childhood is by far the most delightful periodof his existence? And why? Because he is then most a fool. And next tothat his youth, in which folly still prevails; while in proportion as heretires from her dominion, and becomes possessed through discipline andexperience of mature wisdom, his beauty loses its bloom, his strengthdeclines, his wit becomes less pungent, until at last weary old agesucceeds, which would be absolutely unbearable, unless folly, in pityfor such grievous miseries, gave relief by bringing on a secondchildhood. Nature herself has kindly provided for an abundant supply offolly in the human race, for since, according to the Stoic definition, wisdom means only being guided by reason; whereas folly, on the otherhand, consists in submitting to the government of the passions; Jupiterwishing to make life merry, gave men far more passion than reason, banishing the latter into one little corner of his person, and leavingall the rest of the body to the sway of the former. Man, however, beingdesigned for the arrangement of affairs, could not do without a smallquantity of reason, but in order to temper the evil thus occasioned, atthe suggestion of folly woman was introduced into the world--"a foolish, silly creature, no doubt, but amusing, agreeable, and well adapted tomitigate the gloom of man's temper. " Woman owes all her advantages tofolly. The great end of her existence is to please man, and this shecould not do without folly. If any man doubts it, he has only toconsider how much nonsense he talks to a woman whenever he wishes toenjoy the pleasures of female society. "

Erasmus wrote an ode in honour of Henry VII. And his children, and in ithe recommends him to keep with him Skelton, "the one light and ornamentof British literature. " He says that no doubt the advice is unnecessary, as he hears the King is most anxious to retain his services. He wastutor to the young prince--afterwards Henry VIII. Skelton was born about1460. Many of his humorous writings are lost, such as "The Balade of theMustarde Tarte. " He became a "poet laureate, " at that time a degree ingrammar, rhetoric and versification, on taking which, the graduate waspresented with a laurel crown. Having taken orders in 1498, he wasafterwards suspended for living with a lady whom he had secretlymarried. This suspension was much owing to his having incurred the angerof the Dominican Friars, whom he had attacked in his writings. We aretold that he was esteemed more fit for the stage than the pulpit. Thehumour of Skelton consists principally of severe personal vituperation. In "Colyn Cloute" he assailed the clergy generally, but he wrotepersonal attacks on Garnesche (a courtier), and on Wolsey. The Cardinalhad been his patron at one time, and Skelton had dedicated poems to him, among them "A Replycacion" against the followers of Wickliffe andLuther--of which pious effusion the following lines will give aspecimen:--

 "To the honour of our blessed lady And her most blesed baby, I purpose for to reply Agaynst this horryble heresy Of these young heretics that Stynke unbrent. 

 "I say, thou madde marche hare, I wondre how ye dare Open your ianglyng iawes, To preche in any clawes Lyke pratynge poppyng dawes. 

 "I say, ye braynless beestes, Why iangle you such iestes. In your diuynite Of Luther's affynite To the people of lay fee Raylying in your rages To worshyppe none ymages Nor do pylgrymages. "

The cause of his quarrel with Wolsey is not known, but he afterwardswrote a severe personal attack upon him entitled, "Why come ye not toCourte?" The tone of this effusion may be gathered from such expressionsas:--

 "God save his noble grace And grant him a place Endlesse to dwell, With the deuyll of hell, For and he were there We nede neuer feere, Of the fendys blake; For I vndertake He wolde so brag and crake, That he wolde then make The deuyls to quake, To shudder and to shake. "

Owing to such attacks, he was obliged to flee and take sanctuary atWestminster, where he died. His most entertaining pieces are "SpekeParrot, " "Phyllyt Sparrowe, " and "Elynour Rummynge. " In the first a fairlady laments the death of her bird, killed by "those vylanous falsecattes. " She sings a "requiescat" for the soul of her dear bird, andrecounts all his pretty ways--

 "Sometyme he wolde gaspe When he sawe a waspe; A fly or a gnat He wolde flye at that; And prytely he wold pant When he saw an ant; Lord, how he wolde pry After the butterfly! Lord, how he wolde hop After the gressop, And whan I said Phypp, Phypp, Than he wolde lepe and skyp, And take ane by the lyp. Alas it will me slo That Phillyp is gone we fro!"

She gives a long list of birds, who are to attend at his funeral, fromwhich our nursery story of cock-robin may be taken. Skelton seems tohave been fond and observant of birds. In Speke Parrot, he thusdescribes

 "With my beeke bent, my lyttyl wanton eye, My fedders freshe as is the emrawde grene, About my neck a cyrculet lyke the ryche rubye My lyttyl leggys, my feet both fete and clene, I am a mynyon to wayt uppon a quene; My proper parrot my lyttyl prety foole, With ladyes I lerne and go with them to scole. "

It will be observed that the humour in the above pieces is littleseparated from poetry. In Elynour Rummynge however, we have somethingundoubtedly jocose, and proportionally rustic and uncouth. 

Skelton adopted, as we have seen, a quick, short metre, somewhatanalogous to the "Swift Iambics, " of the Greek humorists. Sometimes alsohe alternated Latin with English in a conceit not very uncommon towardsthe end of the fourteenth and in the fifteenth century as--

 "Freeres, freeres, wo ye be! Ministri malorum, For many a mannes soul bringe ye, Ad poenas infernorum. "

No work became more popular than the Ship of Fools by Sebastian Brandt. It was published in Germany in 1494, and was speedily translated intoLatin and French. Alexander Barclay altered it so considerably in therendering as almost to make a new work, especially applicable to thestate of things existing in this country. Ersch and Grüber speak ofBrandt's fools as contemptible and loathsome, and say what he callsfollies might be better described as sins and vices. But here and therewe meet with touches of humour in the mishaps and absurd actions ofthose he censures. The whole work is rather of a moral and religiouscomplexion, as the following heading of the poem will suggest--

"Of newe fassions and disgised garmentes. Of Avaryce and prodygalyte. Ofvnprofytable stody. Of lepynges and dauncis and Folys that pas theyrtyme in suche vanyte. Of Pluralitees, of flatterers, and glosers. Of thevyce of slouth. Of Usurers and okerers. Of the extorcion of knyghtis. Offollisske, cokes, and buttelers. "

Literature increased greatly in the fifteenth century, and began to takethat general form it afterwards bore. One of the satires on the fashionsof the period, which in every age seem to have afforded materials formirth, begins as follows--

 "Ye prowd gallonttes hertlesse With your hyghe cappis witlesse, And youre schort gownys thriftlesse, Have brought this londe in gret hevynesse. With youre longe peked schone. Therfor your thrifte is almost don, And with youre long here into your eyen Have brought this londe to gret pyne. "

There is a good satire written on a priest about the time of theReformation, showing considerable humour both in matter, language andversification. It is called "Doctor Doubble Ale. "

A little episode is given arising from the priest's ignorance--

 "His learning is exceeding Ye may know by his reading, Yet coulde a cobbler's boy him tell That he red a wrong gospell Wherfore in dede he served him well, He turned himselfe as round as a ball, And with loud voyce began to call, 'Is there no constable among you all To take this knave that doth me troble?' With that all was on a hubble shubble, There was drawing and dragging, There was lugging and lagging, And snitching and snatching, And ketching and catching, And so the pore ladde, To the counter they had, Some wolde he should be hanged, Or else he shulde be wranged; Some sayd it were a good turne Such an heretyke to burn. "

A great many of the humorous poems written against the church wererepublished at the time of the Reformation to show that for centuriesthe misdoings of the clergy had been a source of comment. In "the Sakfull of Nuez"--a rare book[46] referred to in 1575, containing acollection of humorous pieces of a rough and rude character--we findseveral hits at the expense of the church. 

"A friar used to visit the house of an old woman, who, when he wascoming, very prudently hid whatever she had to eat. One day coming withsome friends, he asked her if she had not some meat. And she said, 'Nay. ' 'Well, ' quoth the friar, 'have you not a whetstone?' 'Yea, ' quoththe woman, 'what will you do with it?' 'Marry, ' quoth he, 'I would makemeat thereof. ' Then she brought a whetstone. He asked her likewise ifshe had not a frying-pan. 'Yea, ' said she, 'but what the divil will yedo therewith?' 'Marry, ' said the fryer, 'you shall see by and by what Iwill do with it;' and when he had the pan, he set it on the fire, andput the whetstone therein. 'Cocks-body, ' said the woman, 'you will burnthe pan. ' 'No, no, ' quoth the fryer, 'if you will give me some eggs, itwill not burn at all. ' But she would have had the pan from him, whenthat she saw the pan was in danger; but he would not let her, but stillurged her to fetch him some eggs, which she did. 'Tush, ' said the fryer, 'here are not enow, go fetch ten or twelve. ' So the good wife wasconstrayned to fetch more, for feare that the pan should burn, and whenhe had them he put them in the pan. 'Now, ' quoth he, 'if you have nobutter, the pan will burn and the eggs too. ' So the good-wife, beingvery loth to have her pan burnt, and her eggs lost, she fetcht him adish of butter, the which he put into the pan and made good meatthereof, and brought it to the table, saying, 'Much good may it do you, my hostess, now may you say you have eaten of a buttered whetstone. '"

Another story runs as follows:--

"There was a priest in the country, which had christened a child; andwhen he had christened it, he and the clerk were bidden to the drinkingthat should be there, and being there, the priest drank and made somerry that he was quite foxed, and thought to go home before he laid himdown to sleep; but, having gone a little way, he grew so drousie that hecould go no further, but laid him down by a ditch-side, so that his feetdid hang in the water, and lying on his back, the moon shined in hisface; thus he lay till the rest of the company came from drinking, who, as they came home, found the priest lying as aforesaid, and they thoughtto get him away, but do what they could, he would not rise, but said, 'Do not meddle with me, for I lie very well, and will not stir hencebefore morning, but I pray lay some more cloathes on my feet, and blowout the candle. '"

At first it occasions us no little surprise to find the clergy of theearly centuries so prone to attack and ridicule one another, but we mustremember that there was then no reading public, and that the few copiesof books in existence were mostly within the walls of the monasteries. Thus, the object of these writers would be like that of St. Jerome inhis letters, not so much to disgrace the Church as to improve itsdiscipline. We can also, perhaps, understand how the conflicts betweenthe parish priests and monks led them sometimes to caricature each otherin the grotesque heads of corbels and gargoyles; nor does it surprise usthat Luther, indignant and rude, should portray the Pope to the publicunder the form of a jackass. 

But how can we account for the strange and profane caricatures which areso numerous in the stone and wood carvings of our cathedrals? In thescriptural ornamentation of the thirteenth century in StrasburgCathedral, there was the representation of a funeral performed byanimals--a hare carried the taper, a wolf the cross, and a bear the holywater--while in another place a stag was celebrating mass, and an assreading the gospel. We often find carvings in which foxes are habited asecclesiastics, sometimes accompanied by geese, who represent theirflock, and thus we can understand the significance of the design inSherborne Minster and Wellingborough, where two geese are hanging a fox. 

In St. Mary's, Beverley, are two foxes dressed as ecclesiastics, eachholding a pastoral staff, while a goose's head is peeping out of hishood. At Boston Church we find a fox in a cope and episcopal vestments, seated on a throne, and holding a pastoral staff, while on the right isan ass holding a book for the bishop to read. The fact was that no meanswere left untried by the Church to make converts and to obtain a hold onthe people. They wished to render religion as attractive as possible, and perhaps to direct and control tendencies which they could notdestroy. It was then a favourite doctrine that the end justified themeans--the Roman Church instituted persecutions, adopted heathen rites, and ordained fasts and festivals to impress the mind. It is recordedthat Theophylact of Constantinople introduced into the Church, in thetenth century, the licentious "Feast of Fools, " to wean the people fromthe revels of their old religion, and have we not until late yearscelebrated the Nativity of our Lord, not only by games and frolics, butgluttony and drunkenness, and riotous proceedings, under pagan misletoe!I believe that among the masses of the people the Roman saturnalia stillsurvive. We need not then be surprised that the early Christians triedto recommend religion by unsuitable ornamentation. They adopted allkinds of floral designs, they represented fables and romances. In theold church of Budleigh, in Devonshire--which Sir Walter Raleighattended, and where his head is buried--all kinds of devices arerepresented on the pews, from a pair of scissors to a man-of-war, including a cook holding a sheep by the tail. It was only a step fromthis to introduce humour, and as men's feelings had not then beenchastened or brought into order by reflection, they probably overlookedthe lowering tendencies of levity. Those who came to laugh, might remainto pray, and so a strange crop of incongruities germinated upon thesacred soil. Thus, in Beverley Minster, we have a monkey riding upon ahare--a bedridden goat, with a monkey acting as doctor; and atWinchester a boar is playing on the fiddle, while a young pig isdancing. [47] Even scenes of drunkenness and immorality are not alwaysexcluded. But the principal representations attributed human actions tobirds and beasts--people who could laugh at stories of this kind, couldalso at depictions of them. It may be maintained that men were thenhighly emotional, and demanded but little complexity or truth in humour, so that they could see something amusing in a boar playing upon thebagpipes, or in such a device as a monster composed of two birds, withthe head of a lion, or another with a human head on a lion's body! Butthere must have been something more than this--some peculiar estimationof animals to account for such numerous representations. They werecommon in the secular ornamentation of the day, for instance, in a MS. Copy of Froissart of the fifteenth century, there is a drawing of a pigwalking upon stilts, playing the harp, and wearing one of the tallhead-dresses then in fashion. 

This love of the comic seems to have been fostered by the leisure andthe lively turn of some ecclesiastics. In the injunctions given to theBritish Church in the year 680, no bishop is to allow tricks orjocosities (ludos vel jocos) to be exhibited before him, and later weread of two monks, near Oxford, receiving a man hospitably, thinking hewas a "jougleur, " and could perform tricks, but kicking him out onfinding themselves mistaken. We find some of the monks amusingthemselves with "cloister humour, " consisting principally of logicalparadoxes; while others indulged in verbal curiosities, such as those ofTryphiodorus, the lipogrammatist, who wrote an Odyssey in twenty-fourbooks without once using the letter A. Some were more fond of pictorialdesigns, and carved great figures on the chalk downs, such as the Giantof Cerne Abbas, in Dorsetshire, and the Long Man of Wilmington, inSussex. 

As we found reason to believe that the earliest kind of laughter wasthat of pleasure, so in this revival of civilization, we often seehumour regarded as having no influence beyond that of ministering toamusement. The mind was scarcely equal to regarding things in more thanone light. A jest was often viewed as entirely unimportant, its levityand depreciatory character being altogether overlooked. To this and tothe hostile element then very prominent, we may attribute thecaricatures of the devil, formerly so common. Before the tenth century, the devil was thought too dreadful to be portrayed, but afterwards, asthe Church made a liberal exhibition of the torments of hell, the ideaoccurred of deterring offenders by representing evil spirits in asfrightful a form as possible. Some think that such figures weresuggested by the Roman satyrs, but they may have come from Jewish orRunic sources. There is a mediæval story of a monk having carved animage of the devil so much more repulsive than he really was, that thesable gentleman called upon him one night to expostulate. The monk, however, was inexorable. But the story says further that, although theholy man was proof against the entreaties of the devil, he was not sowell armed against the fascinations of the fair, and owing to hissuffering a defeat at the hands of the latter came afterwards to be shutup in prison. The original of his portrait again called upon him, andthe monk agreed that, if he would obtain his release, he would representhim as a handsome fellow. 

As times advanced, people began to fear the devil less, and to be amusedat these strange carvings. From regarding them as ludicrous, it was onlya step to make humorous caricatures--and there could be little harm inridiculing the Devil. Thus we frequently find imps and demons brought into perform the comic parts in the Church mysteries. It was a shortadvance from the ludicrous to the humorous, and thus we find the devil amerry fellow, playing all kinds of practical jokes on mankind. Suchrepresentations would now appear rather ludicrous than humorous, and areseldom seen, except to amuse children on Valentine's Day. 

CHAPTER III. 

Origin of Modern Comedy--Ecclesiastical Buffoonery--Jougleurs and Minstrels--Court Fools--Monks' Stories--The "Tournament of Tottenham"--Chaucer--Heywood--Roister Doister--Gammer Gurton. 

As the early drama of Greece arose from the celebration of religiousrites, so that of modern times originated in the church. This does notseem so strange when we remember that religion is in connection withabstract thought, and with an exercise of the representative powers ofthe mind. And if we ask how comedy could have been thus introduced, thereply must be that the ideal of former ages was very different from ourown. In the days when the mind was dull and inactive, strikingillustrations were very necessary to awaken interest in moral andspiritual teaching. They changed in accordance with the progress of thetimes and country--sometimes the medium was fables or other suchimpossible fictions, sometimes it was similitudes from nature, asparables, and sometimes dramatic performances. Whatever drama the Jewshad was of a religious character. It is supposed by some that thewords--"When your children shall say unto you, 'What mean ye by thisservice, '" refers to some commemorative representation. However this maybe, we know that about the year 100 B. C. , Ezekiel, an Alexandrian Jew, wrote a play in Greek on the Exodus, which somewhat resembled a"mystery. " Luther thought that the books of Judith and Tobit wereoriginally in a dramatic form; and, even among the Jews, a comic elementwas sometimes introduced--as in the ancient Ahasuerus' play at the feastof Purim--with a view of attracting attention at a time when people hadlittle reflection, and were not very particular about the interminglingof utterly incongruous feelings, whether religion and cruelty, orreligion and humour. 

We have traced the gradual decline of the drama in Rome, until itconsisted but of buffooneries and mimes; and so its revival in moderntimes commenced with performances in dumb show, the low intellectualcharacter of the age being reflected in popular exhibitions. The mimiwere people who performed barefooted, clothed in skins of animals, with shaven heads, and faces smeared with soot. The Italians graduallycame to relish nothing but a sort of pantomime, and it seems to haveoccurred to the Roman Church, always enterprising and fond ofadaptation, that they might turn this taste of the people to someaccount. Accordingly, we read of religious mummings in Spain as early asthe sixth century, and in 1264 the Brotherhood of the Gonfalone wasfounded in Italy to represent the sufferings of Christ in dumb show andprocessions. [48] In France the performance of holy plays, termedMysteries, dates from the conclusion of the fourteenth century, when acompany of pilgrims from the Holy Land, with their gowns hung withscallop shells and images, assisted at the marriage of Charles VI. AndIsabella of Bavaria. They were incorporated as a Society in Paris togive dramatic entertainments, and were known as the "Fraternity of thePassion. " Originally the intention was to represent scenes in Scripturehistory, but gradually they introduced "Moralities"--fanciful pieces inwhich God, the Devil, the Virtues, &c. , were the dramatis personæ. Inone of these, for instance, the Devil invites the Follies to a banqueton their arrival in hell. When they sit down the table seems hospitablyspread, but as soon as they begin to touch the food it all bursts intoflame, and the piece concludes with fireworks. We can see that a comicelement might easily be introduced into such performances. But CharlesVI. , who seems to have been fond of all mimetic exhibitions, formedanother company named "L'Institution Joyeuse, " composed of the sons ofthe best families in Paris, who, under the name of the "Enfans sansSouci, " and presided over by the "Prince des Sots, " made France laugh atthe follies of the day, personal and political. The above mentionedreligious fraternity joined these gay performers without apparentlyseeing anything objectionable in such a connection, and under the nameof the "Clercs de la Bazoche, " or clerks of the revels, acted with themalternately. Even in the Mysteries, an occasional element of humour wasevidently introduced, although many things which would appear ludicrousto us did not so affect the people of that day. A tinge of buffoonerywas thought desirable. Thus in the "Massacre of the Holy Innocents, " agood deal of scuffling takes place on the stage, especially where thewomen attack with their distaffs a low fool, who has requested Herod toknight him that he may join in the gallant adventure. In France therewas "The Feast of Asses, " in which the priests were attired like theAncient Prophets, and accompanied by Virgil! Balaam, armed with atremendous pair of spurs, rode a wooden ass, in which a man wasenclosed. Robert Grosseteste, Bishop of Lincoln, forbade the celebrationin churches of the "Feast of Fools, " in which the clergy danced andgesticulated in masks. The "Mysteries" seem sometimes to have been ofextraordinary length, for there was a play called "The Creation, "performed at Clerkenwell which lasted eight days. 

Pageantry as well as humour--devices appealing to the senses--werelargely employed to enliven the exhibitions of early times. In theChristmas games in the reign of Edward I. , we find they made use ofeighty tunics of buckram of various colours, forty-two vizors, fourteenfaces of women, fourteen of men, and the same number of angels, as wellas imitations of dragons, peacocks, and swans. 

The taking of Constantinople in 1453 scattered the men of learningthroughout the West, and led to a revival of literature. The dramarecommenced with representations of the old plays of Plautus. They wereperformed at the Universities, and on state occasions, as in 1528, whenHenry VIII. Had a stage erected in his great hall at Greenwich. 

But the first development seems to have been in Spain, where the oldRomans had left their impress, and where the cruel games of the circusstill survive in the form of bull-fights. Lopez de Reuda, of Seville, first brought comedy on the stage, but Cervantes tells us that then thewhole wardrobe of an actor consisted of four sheep-skins, trimmed withgilt leather, four beards, four wigs, and four shepherds' crooks. Nevertheless, after the classical period, Spain became the repertory forthe comedians of Europe. 

So far we have traced the origin of comedy as to public performance. Wenow come to consider what tendencies of disposition opened the way forit, and led to its becoming a branch of literature. The love ofamusement, which is so strong in man, induced the patronage, which inearly times was extended to the various kinds of professors of lightarts. 

In the days of Greece, as in those of Rome, there were ball-players, andmountebanks, and we may remember an occasion on which Terence complainedthat a rope-dancer had enticed away his audience. In Sparta there weremen who represented the tricks of thieves and impostors in dances, andwhose entertainments, though poor, were superior to that of meremountebanks. The mimes were a still greater improvement, in which acertain amount of amusing narrative was illustrated by dances, songs, contortions, and as the name implies by mimicry. We have seen Platointroducing mimi from Greece, and Julius Cæsar interesting himself insuch performers. Our mediæval fool has been traced to the Roman mime, who continued to please the country-people with coarse and debasedrepresentations after Rome had fallen, and comedy had perished. Somehave even given a classic origin to our pantomime, considering harlequinto be Mercury, the clown Momus, pantaloon Charon, and columbine Psyche. The Roman Sannio and Manducus certainly somewhat corresponded to ourfool and clown, the latter especially in his gormandising propensities. But it is scarcely necessary to travel so far back, for the desire foramusement has in all countries produced an indigenous supply. 

Court-jesters are heard of as early as the reign of Philip of Macedon, but they seem to have been at first little more than parasites ofinferior rank and education. In Roman times they were little more thanbuffoons, [49] and not very different from the mediæval fools. They seemto have received nicknames, and Petronius describes a very low buffoonperforming antics in a myrtle robe with a belt round his waist. 

As in ancient times we find Achilles singing to his lyre, so the Englishmusicians and story-tellers were originally amateurs of high rank. Weread of King Alfred charming the Danes with his minstrelsy. So also inthe Arthurian legends Sir Kaye is represented as amusing the company;but at the time of Hoel Dha's Welsh laws, the bard was paid, for we readthat the king was to allow him a horse and a woollen garment, and thequeen to give him a linen robe; the prefect of the palace is privilegedto sit near him on festivals and to hand him his harp. Canute seems tohave treated his scalds with less ceremony, for he threatened to put oneof them to death because he recounted his exploits in too short a poem, but the man escaped by producing thirty strophes on the subject nextday. The Saxon gleemen were generally of humble origin and not onlyperformed music, but exhibited tricks. So also among the Normans we findthe barons originally amusing one another with "gabs, " _i. E. _ boastfuland exaggerated accounts of their achievements. But soon a greateramount of leisure and luxury led them to pay for amusement; professedmusicians and story-tellers were introduced, and were classed with the_ministri_ or servants, whence came the name minstrel, which was soonconfined to them alone. We find Talliefer going before William theConqueror at the battle of Hastings chanting the brave deeds ofCharlemagne and making a display of skill in tossing and catching hissword and spear. This union of tricks and music became so common thatthe words minstrel and jougleur were soon synonymous, though there wasoriginally a distinction between them. The word jougleur, sometimes bymistake written jongleur, is derived from the latin _joculator_. Thisclass of people were conjurers, as their name suggests, and often wentabout the country with performing animals, especially bears and monkeys. They gradually added songs to their accomplishments, which moreassimilated them to the minstrels, and they became connected with, andwere sometimes called "troubadours. " In these minstrels or jougleurs, though sometimes strolling independently, being often attached to greathouseholds, we find an element of the domestic, or as he is called, court fool, and we find another in their performances being of thatprimitive character, which appeals chiefly to the perception of thesenses. For although the "jocular" part, originally subordinate, hadbeen increased, it took so rude a form that the ludicrous was not alwayseasily distinguished from the humorous. The Fool was a strange mixtureof both, varying from a mere idiot and butt to a man of genius, farsuperior to his masters. He made shrewd remarks, and performed senselessantics, the city fool, on Lord Mayor's day, was to jump clothes and allinto a large bowl of custard. To a certain extent he generallycorresponded with his name in having some mental weakness oreccentricity, and it was a recommendation if he were dwarfish ordeformed. He wore a "motley" suit of discordant colours to make himridiculous, and correspond with the incongruity of his mind andactions--a dress similar to the hundred patched _paniculus centunculus_of the Roman mimes. Sometimes he wore a petticoat or calf-skin toresemble an idiot. Finally, he had his head shaved and wore a cowl tomake him like a monk, as his buffooneries would thus have a strangercharacter, and the nobles had no great affection for the church. [50] Thedomestic fool was common in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries up tothe time of Louis XIV. ; but it is said that there were such men at theCourt of Louis le Débonnaire. Giraldus Cambrenses writes that when hewas preaching for the Crusades in South Wales, one John Spang "who bysimulating fatuity, and having a quick tongue was wont to be a greatcomfort to the court, " said to Resus, the king: "You should be greatlyindebted to your relative the Archdeacon for sending a hundred of yourmen to day to follow Christ, and if he had spoken Welsh I do not believethat one of all your people would remain to you. " This was towards theend of the twelfth century, but it does not seem clear that John Spangwas a court jester. We may fairly consider that the institution of thedomestic fools, the employment of men, who professed jocularity as abranch of art distinct from music and legerdemain increased mentalactivity, and a growing desire for humour. But the men who made jestingtheir profession were generally regarded with contempt, and an Act ofParliament in the reign of Edward III. Ordered strollers of this kind tobe whipped out of the town. An old satire written at the time of theReformation brings together actors, dustmen, jugglers, conjurers, andsellers of indulgences. 

But we want something more than wits and drolleries, and even publicperformances, to complete our idea of Comedy. We must have literarycomposition and artistic construction. From songs of warlikeachievements such as were chanted by the old scalders to cheer theirchiefs over the bowl, there arose by degrees fanciful tales with whichthe Saxons and their successors amused themselves after their dinner, and round the blazing hearth. In the tenth century the clergy foundstories to amuse the post-prandial hour--extravagant, indelicate, orprofane--such were the times, but marking improved activity of thought. Thus they enjoyed such a tale as that a "prophet" went to Heriger(Archbishop of Mayence about 920) and told him he had been to the netherworld, a place, he said, surrounded by woods. The Archbishop repliedthat, if that was the case, he would send his lean swine there to eatacorns. The prophet added that afterwards he went to heaven, and sawChrist and his saints sitting at table and eating; John the Baptist wasthe butler, and served the wine, and St. Peter was the cook. TheArchbishop asked the stranger how he fared himself, and on his sayingthat he sat in the corner and stole a piece of liver--Heriger instead ofpraising his sanctity ordered him to be tied to a stake, and flogged fortheft. The "Supper, " as old as the tenth century, is another humorousdescription. A grave assembly of scriptural characters, from Adam andEve downwards, are invited, Cain sits on a plough, Abel on a milk-pail&c. ; two, Paul and Esau, are obliged to stand for want of room, and Jobcomplains of having nothing to sit on but a dunghill. Jonah is here thebutler. Samson brings honey to the dessert, and Adam apples--

 "Tunc Adam poma ministrat, Samson favi dulcia. David cytharum percussit, et Maria tympana, Judith choreas ducebat et Jubal psalteria Asael metra canebat, saltabat Herodias. "[51]

Thus stories, by degrees, began to be not only composed, but written, and although not intended for acting, to be dignified with the old nameof "Comedies. " Such poems were written by Robert Baston, who accompaniedEdward II. To Scotland. 

The Tournament of Tottenham is a merry story of this kind, written inthe reign of Henry VI. It is full of a rough kind of hostile humour, and shows the sort of things which amused at that time. Here we have aburlesque upon the deeds of chivalry. A mock tournament is held, theprize is to be the Reve of Tottenham's daughter, a brood hen, a dun cow, a grey mare, and a spotted sow. The combatants--clowns andrustics--provide themselves with flails, and poles, and sheep skins

 "They armed tham in mattes; They set on ther nollys (heads) For to kape ther pollys, Gode blake bollys (bowls) For t' batryng of battes (cudgels). "

The fierceness of the combat is described:

 "And fewe wordys spoken, There were flayles al to-slatered, Ther were scheldys al to-flatred, Bollys and dysches al to-schatred, And many hedys brokyn. "

We find some specimen of the kind of tales called Comedies, whichpreceded acted Comedy, in the works of Chaucer, who died in 1400. Scarcely any part of Chaucer's writings would raise a laugh at thepresent day, though they might a blush. [52] But he was by no means a manwho revelled in indelicacy. We may suppose that he was moderate for thetime in which he lived, and when he makes an offensive allusion, heusually adds some excuse for it. The antiquated language in which hisworks are written prevents our now appreciating much of the humour theycontained; generally, there is more refinement and grace in hiswritings. No doubt at the time he was thought witty, and his tendency inthis direction is shown by his praise of mirth in the "Romaunt of theRose. "

 "Full faire was mirth, full long and high, A fairer man I never sigh: As round as apple was his face, Full roddie and white in every place, Fetis he was and well besey, With meetly mouth and eyen gray, His nose by measure wrought full right, Crispe was his haire, and eke full bright, His shoulderes of large trede And smallish in the girdlestede: He seemed like a purtreiture, So noble was he of his stature, So faire, so jolly, and so fetise With limmes wrought at point devise, Deliver smart, and of great might; Ne saw thou never man so light Of berd unneth had he nothing, For it was in the firste spring, Full young he was and merry of thought, And in samette with birdes wrought And with golde beaten full fetously His bodie was clad full richely. Wrought was his robe in straunge gise And all slitttered for queintise In many a place, low and hie, And shode he was with great maistrie With shoone decoped and with lace, By drurie and by solace His leefe a rosen chapelet Had made, and on his head it set. "

He speaks in equally high terms of "Dame Gladnesse. "

We can appreciate Chaucer's address to his empty purse--

 "To you my purse, and to none other wight Complaine I, for ye be my lady dere, I am sorry now that ye be light, For certes ye now make me heauy chere Me were as lefe laid vpon a bere, For which vnto your mercy thus I crie Be heauy againe or els mote I die. 

 "Now vouchsafe this day or it be night That I of you the blissful sowne may here, Or see your colour like the sunne bright That of yelowness had neuer pere; Ye be my life, ye be my hertes stere Queen of comfort, and good companie Be heauy againe, or els mote I die. 

 "Now purse that art to me my liues delight And sauiour, as downe in this world here, Out of this towne helpe me by your might Sith that you woll not be my treasure, For I am shave as nere as any frere, But I pray vnto your curtesie Be heauy againe, or els mote I die. "

Chaucer was very fond of allegory. This is especially visible not onlyin the "Romaunt of the Rose, " but in the "Court of Love, " "Flower andLeaf, " the "House of Fame, " and the "Cuckoo and Nightingale. " In the"Assembly of Fowls" we have a fable. Chaucer was attached to the serviceof John of Gaunt, which may have led to his attacking the clergy, but inhis youth he was fined two shillings for beating a Franciscan friar inFleet Street. He favoured Wickliffe, and was for this reason eventuallyobliged to flee the country; but he returned and obtained remunerativeappointments. It is said that on his death-bed he lamented theencouragement which vice might receive from his writings, but theirindelicacy was not really great for the age in which he lived. 

Henry Heywood has been called the "Father of English Comedy, " and he wascertainly one of the first that wrote original dramas, representing theordinary social life of this country. His pieces, which all appearedbefore 1550, were short and simple, and seem to us very deficient indelicacy and humour. But in his day he was considered a great wit, andas a court-jester drew many a lusty laugh from old King Hal, and couldeven soothe the rugged brow of the fanatical Mary. One of his bestsayings was addressed to her. When the Queen told Heywood that thepriests must forego their wives, he answered. "Then your Grace mustallow them _lemans_, for the clergy cannot live without sauce. " He wascalled the epigrammatist, but the greater part of his jests seem to havelittle point. Some of them have been attributed to Sir Thomas More. 

One of the earliest English comedies written by Nicholas Udall, andfound entered in the books of the Stationers' Company in the year, 1566, is Royster Doister. 

 "Which against the vayne glorious doth invey Whose humour the roysting sort continually doth feede. "

The play turns on Ralph Royster Doister--a conceited fool--thinkingevery woman must fall in love with him. Much of the humour is acoustic, and depends on repetitions--

 "Then twang with our sonnets, and twang with our dumps, And hey hough for our heart, as heavie as lead lumps. Then to our recorder with toodle doodle poope, As the howlet out of an yvie bushe should hoope Anon to our gitterne, thrumpledum, thrumpledrum thrum, Thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrumpledum, thrum. "

Royster is duped into sending Custance a love-letter, telling her thathe seeks only her fortune, and that he will annoy her in every way aftermarriage. On discovering the deception, he determines to take vengeanceon the scribbler who wrote the love-letter for him:--

 "Yes, for although he had as many lives As a thousande widowes and a thousande wives, As a thousande lyons and a thousande rattes, A thousande wolves and a thousande cattes, A thousande bulles, and a thousande calves And a thousande legions divided in halves, He shall never 'scape death on my sworde's point Though I shoulde be torne therefore joynt by joynt. "

Where he prepares to punish Custance and her friends for refusing him, there is a play on the word "stomacke"--used for courage:

 _Ralph Royster. _ Yea, they shall know, and thou knowest I have a stomacke. 

 _M. M. _ A stomacke (quod you) you, as good as ere man had. 

 _R. Royster. _ I trowe they shall finde and feele that I am a lad. 

 _M. M. _ By this crosse I have seene you eate your meat as well. 

 As any that ere I have seene of, or heard tell, A stomacke quod you? he that will that denie, I know was never at dynner in your companie. 

 _R. Royster. _ Nay, the stomacke of a man it is that I meane. 

 _M. M. _ Nay, the stomacke of a horse or a dogge I weene. 

 _R. Royster. _ Nay, a man's stomacke with a weapon mean I. 

 _M. M. _ Ten men can scarce match you with a spoon in a pie. 

"Gammer Gurton's Needle" was acted in 1552. It bears marks of an earlytime in its words being coarsely indelicate, but not amatory. The humouris that of blows and insults and we may observe the great value thenattached to needles. It is "a right pithy, pleasant and merry comedy"--acountry story of an old dame who loses her needle when sewing a patch onthe seat of her servant Hodge's breeches. The cat's misdoings interrupther, and her needle is lost. The hunt for the needle is amusing, andGammer Gurton and Dame Chat, whom she suspects of having stolen it, abuse and call each other witches. Hodge, the man with the patchedbreeches encourages Gammer Gurton, who seems little to require it. 

 "Smite, I say Gammer, Bite, I say Gammer, Where be your nails? Claw her by the jawes Pull me out both her eyen. 

 Hoise her, souse her, bounce her, trounce her, Pull out her thrott. "

On some one giving Hodge a good slap, the needle runs into him, and isthus happily found. 

At the opening of the second act of Gammer Gurton there is a drinkingsong, which deserves notice as it was the first written in English, --

 "I cannot eat but little meat My stomack is not good: But sure I think that I can drink With him that wears a hood. Though I go bare, take ye no care I nothing am a colde; I stuff my skin so full within Of ioly good ale and olde. Backe and side go bare, go bare, Booth foot and hand go colde; But belly, God send thee good ale inoughe, Whether it be new or olde;

 "I love no rost, but a nut browne toste And a crab laid in the fire; A little bread shall do me stead Moche bread I noght desire. No frost, no snow, no wind I trowe Can hurt me if I wolde. I am so wrapt and throwly lapt Of ioly good ale and olde. Backe and side, &c. 

 "And Tib my wife, that as her life Loveth well good ale to seeke, Full oft drinkes shee, till ye may see The teares run downe her cheeke. Then doth she trowle to me the bowle Even as a mault-worm sholde, And saith 'sweet heart I tooke my part Of this ioly good ale and olde. ' Backe and side, &c. 

 "Now let them drinke, till they nod and winke, Even as good fellows should do; They shall not misse to have the blisse Good ale doth bring men to. And al goode sowles that have scoured bowles, Or have them lustely trolde, God save the lives of them and their wives Whether they be yong or olde. Backe and side, &c. "

CHAPTER IV. 

ROBERT GREENE. 

Robert Greene--Friar Bacon's Demons--The "Looking Glasse"--Nash and Harvey. 

One of the principal humorists at this time was Robert Greene, born atNorwich about 1560. He was educated at Cambridge, and was generallystyled "Robert Greene, Maister of Artes. " Early in life he became, as hetells us, "an author of playes and a penner of love pamphlets. " From thetitles of some of them, and from his motto, "_Omne tulit punctum quimiscuit utile dulci_, " it is evident that they were intended to behumorous. Thus, his "Euphues" professes to contain "Mirth to purgeMelancholy;" his "Quips for an Vpstart Courtier" is "A Quaint Disputebetween Velvet-breeches and Cloth-breeches, " and his "Notable Discoveryof Coosnage" has "a delightfull discourse of the coosnage of Colliers;"his "Second and last part of conny-catching" has "new additionscontaining many merry tales of all lawes worth the reading, because theyare worthy to be remembered. Discoursing strange cunning coosnage, whichif you reade without laughing, Ile give you my cap for a Noble. " But inall these works there is but little humour, and what we learn in readingthem is, that a very small amount of it was then thought considerable, and that stories, which we should think slightly entertaining, appearedin that simple age to be very ingenious and even comic. In the "ComicallHistorie of Alphonsus, King of Arragon, " we do not find anything thatcould have possibly been humorous, unless the speaking of a brazen head, and the letting Venus down from Heaven and drawing her up again, couldhave been so regarded. Greene is characteristic of his time in his loveof introducing magic and enchanters, and of characters from classic andscripture history. In the "Looking-Glasse for London and England, " inwhich our metropolis is compared to Nineveh, we have angels andmagicians brought in. "A hand out of a cloud threateneth a burningsword, " and "Jonas is cast out of the whale's belly upon the stage. "

Greene is fond of introducing devils. In "The Honourable Historie ofFrier Bacon and Frier Bongay, " Ralph says, "Why, Sirrah Ned we'll rideto Oxford to Friar Bacon. O! he is a brave scholar, sirrah; they say heis a brave necromancer, that he can make women of devils, and he canjuggle cats into coster-mongers. " Further on in the same play a deviland Miles, Bacon's servant, enter. 

 _Miles. _ A scholar, quoth you; marry, Sir, I would I had been a bottle maker, when I was made a scholar, for I can get neither to be a deacon, reader, nor schoolmaster. No, not the clerk of the parish. Some call me dunce, another saith my head is full of Latin, as an egg's full of oatmeal: thus I am tormented that the devil and Friar Bacon haunt me. Good Lord, here's one of my master's devils! I'll go speak to him. What Master Plutus, how cheer you?

 _D. _ Dost know me?

 _M. _ Know you, Sir? Why are not you one of my master's devils, that were wont to come to my master, Doctor Bacon at Brazen-Nose?

 _D. _ Yes, marry am I. 

 _M. _ Good Lord, Master Plutus, I have seen you a thousand times at my master's; and yet I had never the manners to make you drink. But, Sir, I am glad to see how comformable you are to the statutes. I warrant you he's as yeomanly a man as you shall see; mark you, masters, here's a plain honest man without welt or guard. But I pray you Sir, do you come lately from hell?

 _D. _ Ay, marry, how then?

 _M. _ Faith, 'tis a place I have desired long to see: have you not good tippling houses there? May not a man have a lusty fire there, a good pot of ale, a pair of cards, a swinging piece of chalk, and a brown toast that will clap a white waistcoat on a cup of good drink. 

 _D. _ All this you may have there. 

 _M. _ You are for me, friend, and I am for you. But I pray you, may I not have an office there?

 _D. _ Yes, a thousand; what wouldst thou be?

 _M. _ By my troth, Sir, in a place where I may profit myself. I know hell is a hot place, and men are marvellous dry, and much drink is spent there. I would be a tapster. 

In one play Greene introduces a court-fool, and he mixes with thestupidity and knavery of his clowns, a sort of artificial philosophyand argumentative ingenuity, which savours much of the old jesters. In"James the Fourth" Slipper says:--

 O mistress, mistress, may I turn a word upon you?

 _Countess. _ Friend, what wilt thou?

 _Slipper. _ O! what a happy gentlewoman be you truly; the world reports this of you, mistress, that a man can no sooner come to your house, but the butler comes with a black-jack, and says, "Welcome, friend, here's a cup of the best for you, " verily, mistress, you are said to have the best ale in all Scotland. 

 _Countess. _ Sirrah, go fetch him drink [_an attendant brings drink. _] How likest thou this?

 _Slip. _ Like it mistress! why this is quincy quarie, pepper de watchet, single goby, of all that ever I tasted. I'll prove in this ale, and toast the compass of the whole world. First, this is the earth; it ties in the middle a fair brown toast, a goodly country for hungry teeth to dwell upon; next this is the sea, a fair pool for a dry tongue to fish in; now come I, and seeing the world is naught, I divide it thus: and because the sea cannot stand without the earth, as Aristotle saith, I put them both into their first chaos, which is my belly, and so, mistress, you may see your ale is become a miracle. 

Further on Slipper again shows his readiness in dialogue--

 _Sir Bartram. _ Ho, fellow! stay and let me speak with thee. 

 _Slip. _ Fellow! friend thou dost abuse me: I am a gentleman. 

 _Sir B. _ A gentleman! how so?

 _Slip. _ Why, I rub horses, Sir. 

 _Sir B. _ And what of that?

 _Slip. _ O simple-witted! mark my reason. They that do good service in the commonweal are gentlemen, but such as rub horses do good service in the commonweal, _ergo_, tarbox, master courtier, a horse-keeper is a gentleman. 

 _Sir B. _ Here is over much wit in good earnest. But, sirrah, where is thy master?

 _Slip. _ Neither above ground nor under ground; drawing out red into white, swallowing that down without chawing, which was never made without treading. 

 _Sir B. _ Why, where is he then?

 _Slip. _ Why in his cellar, drinking a cup of neat and brisk claret in a bowl of silver. Oh, Sir, the wine runs trillill down his throat, which cost the poor vintner many a stamp before it was made. But I must hence, Sir, I have haste. 

Sir Bertram intimates that he wants his assistance, and will pay him. 

 _Slip. _ A good word, thou hast won me; this word is like a warm caudle to a cold stomach. 

 _Sir B. _ Sirrah, wilt thou for money and reward Convey me certain letters, out of hand, From out thy master's pocket?

 _Slip. _ Will I, Sir? Why were it to rob my father, hang my mother, or any such like trifles, I am at your commandment, Sir. What will you give me, Sir?

 _Sir B. _ A hundred pounds. 

 _Slip. _ I am your man; give me earnest. I am dead at a pocket, Sir; why I am a lifter, master, by occupation. 

 _Sir B. _ A lifter! what is that?

 Slip. Why, Sir, I can lift a pot as well as any man, and pick a purse as soon as any thief in the country. 

These humorous characters remind us a little of the slaves and parasitesin Roman comedy, of whom, no doubt, Greene had read. His amusing fellowsare free livers, and fond of wine like himself. In the "Looking-Glasse"above mentioned, Nineveh represents London, and a fast being proclaimed, we find Adam, a smith's journeyman, trying to evade it. 

 (_Enter Adam solus, with a bottle of beer in one slop (trouser) and a great piece of beef in the other. _)

 _Adam. _ Well, goodman Jonas, I would you had never come from Jewry to this country; you have made me look like a lean rib of roast beef, or like the picture of Lent, painted upon a red-herring's cob. Alas! masters, we are commanded by the proclamation to fast and pray! By my troth, I could prettily so, so away with praying, but for fasting, why 'tis so contrary to my nature, that I had rather suffer a short hanging than a long fasting. Mark me, the words be these: thou shalt take no manner of food for so many days. I had as lief he should have said, thou shalt hang thyself for so many days. And yet, in faith, I need not find fault with the proclamation, for I have a buttery and a pantry and a kitchen about me; for proof, _ecce signum_! This right slop is my pantry, behold a manchet; this place is my kitchen, for lo! a piece of beef. O! let me repeat that sweet word again!--for lo! a piece of beef. This is my buttery, for see, see, my friends, to my great joy a bottle of beer. Thus, alas! I make shift to wear out this fasting; I drive away the time. But there go searchers about to seek if any man breaks the king's command. O, here they be; in with your victuals, Adam. 

 (_Enter two Searchers. _)

 _1st Searcher. _ How duly the men of Nineveh keep the proclamation! how they are armed to repentance! We have searched through the whole city, and have not as yet found one that breaks the fast. 

 _2nd Sear. _ The sign of the more grace; but stay, there sits one, methinks at his prayers; let us see who it is. 

 _1st Sear. _ 'Tis Adam, the smith's man. How, now, Adam?

 _Adam. _ Trouble me not; thou shalt take no manner of food, but fast and pray. 

 _1st Sear. _ How devoutly he sits at his orisons! But stay, methinks I feel a smell of some meat or bread about him. 

 _2nd Sear. _ So thinks me too. You, Sirrah, what victuals have you about you?

 _Adam. _ Victuals! O horrible blasphemy! Hinder me not of my prayer, nor drive me not into a choler. Victuals? why heardest thou not the sentence, thou shalt take no food, but fast and pray?

 _2nd Sear. _ Troth, so it should be; but, methinks, I smell meat about thee. 

 _Adam. _ About me, my friends? these words are actions in the case. About me? no! no! hang those gluttons that cannot fast and pray. 

 _1st Sear. _ Well, for all your words we must search you. 

 _Adam. _ Search me? take heed what you do! my hose are my castles; 'tis burglary if you break ope a slop; no officer must lift up an iron hatch; take heed, my slops are iron. 

 _2nd Sear. _ O, villain! See how he hath gotten victuals--bread, beef and beer, where the king commanded upon pain of death none should eat for so many days, not the sucking infant. 

 _Adam. _ Alas! Sir, this is nothing but a _modicum non nocet ut medicus daret_; why, Sir, a bit to comfort my stomach. 

 _1st Sear. _ Villain! thou shalt be hanged for it. 

 _Adam. _ These are your words, I shall be hanged for it; but first answer me this question, how many days have we to fast still?

 _2nd Sear. _ Five days. 

 _Adam. _ Five days! a long time; then I must be hanged. 

 _1st Sear. _ Ay, marry must thou. 

 _Adam. _ I am your man, I am for you, Sir, for I had rather be hanged than abide so long a fast. What! five days! Come, I'll untruss. Is your halter, and the gallows, the ladder, and all such furniture in readiness. 

 _1st Sear. _ I warrant thee thou shalt want none of these. 

 _Adam. _ But hear you, must I be hanged?

 _1st Sear. _ Ay, marry. 

 _Adam. _ And for eating of meat. Then, friends, know ye by these presents, I will eat up all my meat, and drink up all my drink, for it shall never be said, I was hanged with an empty stomach. 

It has been supposed that Greene was very indelicate in his language, aswell as reckless in his life. But we cannot find in his plays anythingvery offensive, considering the date at which he wrote, and in the tractcalled "Greene's Funeralls, " we read:--

 His gadding Muse, although it ran of love, Yet did he sweetly morralize his song; Ne ever gaue the looser cause to laugh Ne men of judgement for to be offended. 

Greene died in "most woefull and rascall estate" at the house of a poorshoemaker near Dowgate. He had previously written his "Groat's-worth ofWit bought with a Million of Repentance;" in which he warns his formercompanions and "gentlemen who spend their wits in making playes, " totake warning by his fate. He could get none of his friends to visit himat the last but Mistress Appleby, and the mother of "his base sonneInfortunatus Greene. " He gave the following note for his wife--whom hehad not seen for six years--to the shoemaker:

"Doll, I charge thee by the love of our youth, and by my soule's rest, that thow wilte see this man paide; for if hee and his wife had notsuccoured me, I had died in the streetes. 

 "ROBERT GREENE. "

Gabriel Harvey writes, "My next businesse was to inquire after thefamous author who was reported to lye dangerously sicke in a shop neereDowgate, not of plague, but of a surfett of pickle herringe and rennishwine. "

Thomas Nash was one of Greene's jolly companions at this fatal banquet. After Greene's death Harvey replied to some reflections made upon him byGreene, and called him in accordance with the amenities of the times, "awilde head, ful of mad braine and a thousand crotchets; a scholler, adiscourser, a courtier, a ruffian, a gamester, a lover, a souldier, atrauailer, a merchant, a broker, an artificer, a botcher, a pettifogger, a player, a coosener, a rayler, a beggar, an omnium-gatherum, agay-nothing, a stoare-house of bald and baggage stuffe, unworth theanswering or reading, a triuall and triobular autor for knaves andfooles, " &c. , &c. 

Nash, although he seems to have forsaken Greene in his last distress, became the defender of his character after his death, and answered thisvituperation by still coarser abuse and invective, saying, "Had heelived, Gabriel, and thou shouldest vnartifically and odiously libelagainst him as thou hast done, he would have made thee an example ofignominy to all ages that are to come, and driven thee to eate thy ownebooke buttered, as I saw him make an Appariter once in a tavern eate hisCitation, waxe and all, very handsomely served 'twixt two dishes. '"

From this he proceeds to caricature Gabriel's person. "That wordcomplexion is dropt forth in good time, for to describe to you hiscomplexion and composition entred I with this tale by the way. It is ofan adust swarth chollericke dye, like restie bacon, or a driedscate-fish; so leane and so meagre, that you wold thinke (with theTurks) he observed 4 Lents in a yere, or take him for a gentleman's manin the courtier, who was so thin-cheeked, and gaunt, and starv'd, thatas he was blowing the fire with his mouth the smoke took him up like alight strawe, and carried him to the top or funnell of the chimney, wherhe had flowne out God knowes whither if there had not been crosse barresoverthwart that stayde him; his skin riddled and crumpled like a pieceof burnt parchment; and more channels and creases he hath in his facethan there be fairie circles on Salsburie Plaine, and wrinckles andfrets of old age, than characters on Christ's sepulcher in MountCalvarie, on which euerie one that comes scrapes his name, and sets hismarke to shewe that hee hath been there; so that whosoever shall beholdhim

 "Esse putet Boreæ triste furentis opus, "

will sweare on a book I have brought him lowe, and shrowdly broken him;which more to confirme, look on his head, and you shall find a grayhaire for euery line I have writ against him; and you shall have all hisbeard white too, by that time he hath read over this booke. For hisstature, he is such another pretie Jacke-a-Lent as boyes throw at in thestreete, and lookes in his blacke sute of veluet, like one of thesejet-droppes which divers weare at their eares instead of a iewell. Asmudge peice of a handsome fellow it hath been in his dayes, but now heis olde and past his best, and fit for nothing but to be a nobleman'sporter, or a knight of Windsor. "

Nash was so full of invective and personal abuse that he scarcelydeserved the name of a satirist, and so great was the animosity withwhich the quarrel between him and Gabriel Harvey was conducted, that theArchbishop of Canterbury and Bishop of London issued an order in 1599that all such books "be taken wheresoever they be found, and that noneof the said books be ever printed hereafter. "

His humour was remarkable, as it largely consisted of coining long andalmost unintelligible words. This he laid great store by, and he speakswrathfully of one who translated his "Piers Penniless, " into what hecalls "maccaronical language. " In his "Lenten Stuffe or Praise of theRed Herring, " _i. E. _, of Great Yarmouth, he calls those who despisedHomer in his life-time "dull-pated pennifathers, " and says that "thosegrey-beard huddle-duddles and crusty cum-twangs were strooke withstinging remorse of their miserable euchonisme and sundgery. "

Peele was one of the gay play-writers to whom Greene addressed hiswarning. They seem at this time to have united the professions ofdramatist and actor, and to have been infected with that dissipationwhich has since been attributed with more or less justice to the stage. Peele is as fond as Greene of surprises and miraculous interventions. Inthe "Arraignment of Paris" a golden tree grows up, and in the "Old WivesTale, " the most humorous of his works, the head of Huanebango rises froma well. He is fond of dealing in phonetic words Latinisms andbarbarisms; in one place he makes Corebus say:

 "O _falsum Latinum_ The fair maid is _minum_ _Cum apurtinantibus gibletis_ and all. "

Peele was very popular in his day, and was often called upon to writepieces for the Lord Mayor and for royal receptions. He sometimes usedHexameter lines such as:

 "Dub, dub-a-dub bounce, quoth the guns with a sulphurous huff shuff. "

Gabriel Harvey first introduced this metre into English, and he tried toinduce Spenser to adopt it. Nash calls it "that drunken staggering kindof verse which is all vp hill and downe hill, like the way betwixtStamford and Beechfeild, and goes like a horse plunging through the mirein the deep of winter, now soust vp to the saddle and straight aloft onhis tip-toes. "

CHAPTER V. 

Donne--Hall--Fuller. 

Already we have seen that some of our earliest humorists wereecclesiastics, and it would be unfitting that we should here overlookthree eminent men, Donne, Hall, and Fuller. Pleasantry was with themlittle more than a vehicle of instruction; the object was not toentertain, but to enforce and illustrate their moral sentiments. Hencetheir sober quaintness never raises a laugh, much less does it borderupon the profane or indelicate. 

Donne was born in 1573, in London, and was educated, as was not thenuncommon, first at Oxford, and then at Cambridge. His ability in churchcontroversy attracted the attention of James, and he was made chaplainto the King. He became preacher at Lincoln's Inn, and afterwards wasmade Dean of St. Paul's. He lived to be fifty-eight. 

His sermons are full of antitheses and epigrammatic diction. There isan airy lightness in his letters and poems, but he scarcely everactually reaches humour. The following poem, an epistle to Sir EdmundHerbert at Juliers, will give an idea of his style. 

 "Man is a lump, where all beasts kneaded be, Wisdom makes him an ark where all agree; The fool in whom these beasts do live at jar, Is sport to others, and a theatre. Nor scapes he so, but is himself their prey, All which was man in him is eat away, And now his beasts on one another feed, Yet couple in anger, and new monsters breed. How happy's he, which hath due place assigned To his beasts, and disaforested his mind! Empaled himself to keep them out, not in, Can sow, and dares trust corn where they've been; Can use his horse, goat, wolf, and every beast, And is not ass himself to all the rest. "

Bishop Hall was born in 1574, and commenced his extensive literarylabours by writing when twenty-three years of age, at Emmanuel College, Cambridge, three books of satires called Virgidemiæ. These books hecalls "_Toothless_ Satyres, _poetical_, _academical_, _and moral_, " andhe attacks bad writers, astrologers, drunkards, gallants, and others. Alluding to the superabundance of indifferent poetry in his days, hesays:--

 "Let them, that mean by bookish business To earn their bread, or holpen to profess Their hard-got skill, let them alone for me Busy their brains with deeper bookery. Great gains shall bide you sure, when ye have spent A thousand lamps, and thousand reams have rent Of needless papers; and a thousand nights Have burned out with costly candle-lights. "

In the following year, he produced three books of "Byting Satyres. " Inthese he laughs at the effeminacy of the times--the strange dresses andhigh heels. 

 "When comely striplings wish it were their chance For Cænis' distaff to exchange their lance, And wear curled periwigs, and chalk their face And still are poring on their pocket-glass; Tired with pinned ruffs and fans and partlet strips And busks and verdingales about their hips; And tread on corked stilts, a prisoner's pace, And make their napkin for a spitting place, And gripe their waist within a narrow span, Fond Cænis that wouldst wish to be a man!"

The most severe is against the Pope:--

 "To see an old shorn lozel perched high Crossing beneath a golden canopy; The whiles a thousand hairless crowns crouch low To kiss the precious case of his proud toe; And for the lordly fasces borne of old To see two quiet crossed keys of gold; But that he most would gaze and wonder at To the horned mitre and the bloody hat, The crooked staff, the cowl's strange form and store Save that he saw the same in hell before; To see the broken nuns, with new shorn heads In a blind cloister toss their idle heads. "

Although Bishop Hall wrote learnedly and voluminously on theologicalsubjects, this light medley is now more esteemed than his graver works. He claimed upon the strength of it to be the earliest English satirist, and perhaps none of our writings of this kind had as yet been of equalimportance. The work was one of those condemned to the flames byWhitgift and Bancroft. 

Fuller was born in Northamptonshire, in 1608. He became a distinguishedman at Cambridge, where he obtained a fellowship at Sidney SussexCollege. He was also an eminent preacher in London, and a prebendary ofSalisbury. In the Civil War, being a stanch Royalist, he was driven fromplace to place, and held at one time the interesting post of "InfantLady's Chaplain" to the Princess Henrietta. In his "Worthies ofEngland, " Fuller not only enumerates the eminent men for which eachcountry is distinguished, but gives an account of its products andproverbs. "A Proverb is much matter decocted into few words. Sixessentials are wanting to it--that it be short, plain, common, figurative, ancient, true. " The most ordinary subject is enlivened byhis learned and humorous mind. Thus, in Bedfordshire, under the head of"Larks, " he tells us, "The most and best of these are caught andwell-dressed about Dunstable in this shire. A harmless bird whileliving, not trespassing on grain, and wholesome when dead, then fillingthe stomach with meat, as formerly the ear with music. In winter theyfly in flocks, probably the reason why _Alauda_ signifieth in Latin botha lark and a legion of soldiers; except any will say a legion is socalled because helmeted on their heads and crested like a lark, therefore also called in Latin _Galerita_. If men would imitate theearly rising of this bird, it would conduce much unto theirhealthfulness. "

Fuller abounds with figures and illustrations in which learning andhumour are excellently intermingled. "They that marry where they do notlove, will love where they do not marry. " "He knows little, who willtell his wife all he knows. " Speaking of children, he says that a mancomplained that never father had so undutiful a child as he. "Yes, " saidthe son, "my grandfather had. " Alluding to servants, and saying that theEmperor Charles the Fifth being caught in a tempest had many horsesthrown overboard to save the lives of the slaves--which were not of sogreat market-value--he asks, "Are there not many that in such a case hadrather save Jack the horse than Jockey the keeper?" Of widows' evilspeaking he observes, "Foolish is their project who, by raking up badsavours against their former husbands, think thereby to perfume theirbed for a second marriage. " Of celibacy he says, "If Christians beforced to run races for their lives, the unmarried have the advantage ofbeing lighter by many ounces!"

Speaking of the "Controversial Divine, " he says, "What? make the Muses, yea the Graces scolds? Such purulent spittle argues exulcerated lungs. Why should there be so much railing about the body of Christ, when therewas none about the body of Moses in the act kept betwixt the devil andMichael, the Archangel?" On schoolmasters he wrote, "That schoolmasterdeserves to be beaten himself, who beats Nature in a boy for a fault. And I question whether all the whipping in the world can make theirparts, that are naturally sluggish, rise one minute before the hourNature hath appointed. "

The following are some good sayings that have been selected from hisworks by an eminent humorist:--

 _Virtue in a short person. _ "His soul had but a short diocese to visit, and therefore might the better attend the effectual informing thereof. "

 _Intellect in a very tall one. _ "Oft times such, who are built four storeys high, are observed to have little in their cock-loft. "

 _Mr. Perkins, the Divine. _ "He would pronounce the word Damn with such an emphasis, as left a doleful echo in his auditor's ears a good while after. "

 _Memory. _ "Philosophers place it in the rear of the head; and it seems the mine of memory lies there, because men there naturally dig for it, scratching it when they are at a loss. "

To this we may add something from his "Holy State, "--a pleasant andprofitable work, in which Fuller is happy in making his humour subservethe best ends:--Of "The Good Wife, " he says, "She never crosseth herhusband in the spring-tide of his anger, but stays till it beebbing-water. And then mildly she argues the matter, not so much tocondemn him as to acquit herself. Surely men, contrary to iron, areworst to be wrought upon when they are hot, and are far more tractablein cold blood. It is an observation of seamen, 'That if a single meteoror fire-ball falls on their mast, it portends ill-luck; but if two cometogether (which they count Castor and Pollux) they presage goodsuccess. ' But sure in a family it bodeth most bad when two fire balls(husband's and wife's anger) both come together. " In speaking of goodparents, he says, "A father that whipt his son for swearing, and sworeat him while he whipt him, did more harm by his example than good by hiscorrection. "

CHAPTER VI. 

Shakespeare--Ben Jonson--Beaumont and Fletcher--The Wise Men of Gotham. 

Greene, in his admonition to his brother sinners of the stage, tellsthem that "there is an vpstart crow beautified with our feathers anabsolute Johannes factotum, in his own conceyt the onely Shake-scene ina countrey, " and in truth these olden writers are principallyinteresting as having laid the foundations upon which Shakespeare builtsome of his earliest plays. The genius of our great dramatist wasessentially poetic, and some of his plays, which we now call comedies, were originally entitled "histories. " How seldom do we hear any of hishumorous passages quoted, or find them reckoned among our householdwords! From some of his observations we might think he was altogetheraverse from jocosity. Henry V. Says

 "How ill gray hairs become a fool--a jester!"

In "Much ado about Nothing, " Beatrice speaks as follows--

 "Why, he is the Prince's jester; a very dull fool, only his gift is in devising unprofitable slanders; none but libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany, for he both pleases men and angers them, and then they laugh at him and beat him. "

But notwithstanding all this condemnation Beatrice is herself theliveliest character in Shakespeare, and her lady's wit is some of thebest he shows--

 _Beatrice. _ For hear me, Hero; wooing, wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a measure and a cinque-pace; the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding mannerly-modest, as a measure full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs, falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sinks into his grave. 

 _Leonato. _ Cousin, you apprehend shrewdly. 

 _Beat. _ I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church, by daylight. 

In the "Merchant of Venice" Lorenzo thus answers Launcelot--

 "How every fool can play upon the word. I think the best grace of wit will shortly turn into silence, and discourse grow commendable in none but parrots. "

Again Lorenzo--

 "Oh, dear discretion, how his words are suited, The fool hath planted in his memory An army of good words: And I do know A many fools that stand in better place Garnished like him, that for a tricksie word Defie the matter. "

Comedians from Aristophanes downwards have been wont to complain in oneplace of that which they adopt in another--their object not being toadopt fixed principles so much as to show the varying shades of humanthought. Shakespeare required something light to bring his deepreflections into bolder relief, and therefore frequently had recourse tohumour. We are not surprised that he had no very high estimate of it, when we find him so much dependant upon "the alms-basket of words. "There is so much of this in his plays, that it is almost superfluous toquote, but a few instances may be taken at random. Falstaff to Poins--

 "You are straight enough in the shoulders; you care not who sees your back--call you that backing your friends? A plague upon such backing; give me a man who will face me. "

Falstaff to Prince Henry. Act I. Scene II. 

 I prythee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as God save thy grace--majesty, I should say, for grace thou wilt have none--

 _P. Hen. _ What! none?

 _Fal. _ No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. 

In Love's Labour Lost. Act I. Scene II. 

 _Armado. _ Comfort me, boy. What great men have been in love?

 _Inoth. _ Hercules, master. 

 _Arm. _ Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage. 

 _Inoth. _ Samson, master; he was a man of good carriage, for he raised the town gates on his back like a porter, and he was in love. 

In the musicians scene, in Romeo and Juliet, Act IV. Scene V. We find--

 _Musician. _ Pray you put up your dagger, and put out your wit. 

 _Peter. _ Then have at you with my wit. I will dry beat you with my iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer me like:

 When griping grief the heart doth wound, And doleful dumps the mind oppress, Then music with her silver sound--

 Why _silver_ sound? Why music with her silver sound? What say you, Simon Catling?

 _First Mins. _ Marry, Sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. 

 _Peter. _ Pretty. What say you, Hugh Rebeck?

 _Sec. Mins. _ I say "silver sound, " because musicians sound for silver. 

 _Peter. _ Pretty, too! What say you, James Soundpost?

 _Third Mins. _ Faith! I know not what to say. 

 _Peter. _ O! I cry for mercy; you are the singer; I will say for you. It is music with her silver sound, because musicians have no gold for sounding. 

We may here observe that the puns of Shakespeare are never of the"atrocious" class; there is always something to back them up, and givethem a shadow of probability. The tournaments of humour which he is fondof introducing, although good in effect upon the stage, are notfavourable for any keen wit. Such conflicts must be kept up by artifice, cannot flow from natural suggestion, and degenerate into a meresplintering of words. One cause of the absence of "salt" in his writingsis that he was not of a censorious or cynical spirit; another was thathis turn of mind was rather sentimental than gay. Shakespeare evidentlyknew there might be humour among men of attainments, for he writes, --

 "None are so surely caught, when they are catched, As wit turned fool; folly is wisdom hatched, Hath wisdom's warrant and the help of school And wits' own grace to grace a learned fool. "

But with him, those who indulge in it are clowns, simpletons, andprofligates. Few of his grand characters are witty. Perhaps he wasconscious of the great difficulty there would be in finding suitablesayings for them. Indelicacy and hostility would have to be alikeavoided, and thus when the sage Gonzalo is to be amusing, he sketches aUtopian state of things, which he would introduce were he King of theisland on which they are cast. He would surpass the golden age. Sebastian and Antonio laugh at him, and cry "God save the King, " Alonzoreplies "Prythee, no more, thou dost talk nothing (_i. E. _ nonsense) tome. " Gonzalo replies that he did so purposely "to minister occasion tothose gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that theyalways use to laugh at nothing. " They retort that they were not laughingat his humour, but at himself. "Who, " he replies, "in this merry foolingam nothing to you" meaning, apparently, that he is acting the foolintentionally and out of his real character. 

Hamlet, when his mind is distraught, "like sweet bells jangled, " isallowed to indulge in a little punning, and Biron is humorous, for whichhe is reproached by Rosalind, who tells him that he is one

 "Whose influence is begot of that loose grace Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools;"

that only silly thoughtless people admire wit, and that

 "A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it--never in the tongue Of him that makes it. "

Here the variable character of humour is recognised, but it is not to besupposed that Rosalind's arguments were intended to be strictly correct. Very much must depend upon the form in which a jest is produced, andwithout the tongue of the utterer, it cannot exist though the sympathyof the listener is required for its appreciation. 

In Shakespeare's plays, and in most comedies we find humour in therepresentation of ludicrous characters. Words, which would be dullenough in ordinary cases, become highly amusing when coming from men ofpeculiar views. Sometimes people are represented as perpetually ridingtheir hobby, or harping on one favourite subject. We have an instance ofthis in Holophernes and his pedantry; and the conversation between thetwo gravediggers in Hamlet, is largely indebted for its relish to thecontrast between the language of the men and their occupation. In thesame way, the ignorance and misrepresentations of rustics in playacting, which Shakespeare had probably often observed in theprovinces--gives zest to the exaggerated caricature in "MidsummerNight's Dream. "--

 _Bottom. _ There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisbe that will never please. First, Pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself, which ladies cannot abide. How answer you that?

 _Snout. _ By'r lakin a parlous fear. 

 _Starveling. _ I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done. 

 _Bottom. _ Not a whit. I have a device to make all well. Write me a prologue, and let the prologue seem to say, we will not do harm with our swords, and that Pyramus is not killed indeed; and for the more better assurance, tell them that I, Pyramus, am not Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver; this will put them out of fear. 

 * * * * *

 _Snout. _ Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?

 _Sta. _ I fear it, I promise you. 

 _Bottom. _ Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves to bring in--God shield us! a lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful wildfowl than your lion living, and we ought to look to it. 

 _Snout. _ Therefore another prologue must tell, he is not a lion. 

 _Bottom. _ Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he must himself speak through, saying thus, or to the same effect--"Ladies, " or "Fair ladies, I would wish you, " or "I would request you, " or "I would entreat you not to fear, nor to tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life: no, I am no such thing. I am a man as other men are, " and there then let him name his name and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner. 

When the play comes on for performance and Snug the joiner roars "likeany sucking dove, " the Duke Theseus remarks--

 A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience. 

 _Demetrius. _ The very best as a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw. 

 _Lysander. _ This lion is a very fox for his valour. 

 _Theseus. _ True, and a goose for his discretion. 

 _Demetrius. _ Not so, my lord, for his valour cannot carry his discretion, and the fox carries the goose. 

 _Theseus. _ His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour, for the goose carries not the fox. 

The enigmas and logical quibbles, which he occasionally intermingleswith his verbal conceits, remind us of the old philosophic paradoxes. Sometimes a riddle is attempted; thus, he asks--"What was a month old atCain's birth, that's not five weeks old now?" Answer--"The Moon. "

Taken generally, there is such a remarkable uniformity in Shakespeare'shumour as must acquit him of all charge of plagiarism in this respect, and may go some way towards proving the general originality of hisplays. Certainly, verbal conceits were then in high favour, and thecharacter of Shakespeare's humour is only one of many proofs thatpleasantry had not at this time reached its highest excellence. 

To Shakespeare's kindness and discretion Ben Jonson owed his firstintroduction to dramatic fame. The young poet had presented "Every Manin his Humour, " to one of the leading players of the company to whichShakespeare belonged, and the comedian upon reading it, determined torefuse it. Jonson's fate was trembling in the balance; he was astruggling man, and, had he been unsuccessful, might have eventually, returned to his bricklayer's work, but he was destined to be raised upfor his own benefit and that of others. Shakespeare was present when hisplay was about to be rejected, asked to be allowed to look over it, and, at once recognising the poet's talent, recommended it to his companions. From that moment Jonson's career was secured. But he was never destinedto acquire the lasting fame of Shakespeare. With him the stream ofComedy was losing its deep and strong reflections, and beginning to flowin a swifter and shallower current, meandering through labyrinths ofcourt and city life. Perhaps, also, his large amount of humorousillustration, which must have been mostly ephemeral, tended to cut shorthis fame. The best of it is interwoven with his several designs andplots, as where, in "The Alchemist, " a gentleman leaves his house intown, and his housekeeper fills it with fortune-tellers vagabonds, whocarry on their trade there; and in "The Fox" a rich and childless man iscourted by his friends, from whom he obtains presents under the pretencethat he will leave them his property. In this last play a parasite isintroduced, and in general these plays abound with classical allusions, sometimes very incongruously intermixed with modern concerns. Anindiscriminating admiration of ancient literature and art was as muchone of the features of the day, as was its crude humour--a clevernessjoined to folly and attributed to boobies and simpletons. Much of thisjocosity scarcely deserves the name of humour, and we may remark that inJonson's time it did not receive it. With him humour is thus defined--

 "To be a quality of air or water, And in itself holds these two properties, Moisture and fluxure. .. . Now thus far It may by metaphor apply itself Unto the general disposition: As when some one peculiar quality Doth so possess a man, that it doth draw All his affects, his spirits, and his power. "

The social peculiarities of the day are frequently alluded to by Jonson. In "Every Man out of his own Humour, " we have complete directions forthe conduct of a gentleman of the time. Smoking, then lately introduced, is especially mentioned as one of the necessities of foppery. Cob, awater-bearer says, "Ods me, I marle what pleasure or felicity they havein taking this roguish tobacco. It's good for nothing but to choke aman, and fill him full of smoke and embers: there were four died out ofone house last week with taking of it, and two more the bell went foryesternight; one of them they say will never 'scape it: he cast up abushel of soot yesterday. "

In Cynthia's Revels a courtier is thus described--

"He walks most commonly with a clove or toothpick in his mouth: he isthe very mint of compliment, all his behaviours are pointed: his face isanother volume of essays, and his beard is Aristarchus. He speaks allcream skimmed, and more affected than a dozen waiting women. The othergallant is his zany, and doth most of these tricks after him, sweats toimitate him in everything to a hair, except his beard, which is not yetextant. "

But the stamp of the age is especially prominent in the constantrecurrence of verbal conceits. Jonson was fond of coining words, and ofusing such as are long and little known. He evidently found this asuccessful kind of humour, and may have partly imitated Plautus--

Lady Politick Would-be, to Volpone, supposed sick--

 Seed pearl were good now, boiled with syrup of apples, Tincture of gold, and coral, citron pills, Your elicampane root, myrobalanes--

 _Volpone (tired with her talk)_ Ah me! I have ta'en a grasshopper by the wing. 

In "The Alchemist" Subtle says to Face, Sirrah my varlet, stand you forth and speak to him Like a philosopher: answer in the language, Name the vexations and the martyrizations Of metals in the work. 

 Face. Sir, putrefaction, Solution, ablution, sublimation, Cohabation, calcination, ceration and Fixation. 

From "Every Man out of his Humour. "

 _Macilente. _ Pork! heart! what dost thou with such a greasy dish? I think thou dost varnish thy face with the fat on't, it looks so like a glue-pot. 

 _Carlo. _ True, my raw-boned rogue, and if thou wouldst farce thy lean ribs with it too, they would not like rugged laths, rub out so many doublets as they do; but thou knowest not a good dish thou. No marvel though, that saucy stubborn generation, the Jews, were forbidden it, for what would they have done, well pampered with fat pork, that durst murmur at their Maker out of garlick and onions? 'Slight! fed with it--the strummel-patched, goggle-eyed, grumbledones would have gigantomachized. --

The following extracts will give a slight idea of Ben Jonson's variedtalent. At the conclusion of a play directed against plagiarists andlibellers, he sums up--

 "Blush, folly, blush! here's none that fears The wagging of an ass's ears, Although a wolfish case he wears. Detraction is but baseness varlet And apes are apes, though clothed in scarlet. "

From "The Alchemist. "

 _Tribulation. _ What makes the devil so devilish, I would ask you. Sathan our common enemy, but his being Perpetually about the fire, and boiling Brimstone and arsenic?. .. 

 _Fastidious. _ How like you her wit. 

 _Macilente. _ Her ingenuity is excellent, Sir. 

 _Fast. _ You see the subject of her sweet fingers there (_the viol_) oh, she tickles it so that--she makes it laugh most divinely--I'll tell you a good jest just now, and yourself shall say it's a good one. I have wished myself to be that instrument, I think a thousand times, and not so few by heaven. 

The two following are from "Bartholomew Fair. "

 _Littlewit. _ I envy no man my delicates, Sir. 

 _Winwife. _ Alas, you have the garden where they grow still. A wife here with a strawberry breath, cherry lips, apricot cheeks, and a soft velvet head like a melicotton. 

 _Lit. _ Good i' faith! now dulness upon us, that I had not that before him, that I should not light on't as well as he! Velvet head!. .. 

 _Knockem. _ Sir, I will take your counsel, and cut my hair, and leave vapours. I see that tobacco and bottle ale, and pig and whit, and very Ursula herself is all vanity. 

 _Busy. _ Only pig was not comprehended in my admonition--the rest were: for long hair, it is an ensign of pride, a banner: and the world is full of those banners--very full of banners. And bottle ale is a drink of Satan's, a diet-drink of Satan's devised to puff us up, and make us swell in this latter age of vanity; as the smoke of tobacco to keep us in mist and error: but the fleshly woman, which you call Ursula, is above all to be avoided, having the marks upon her of the three enemies of man--the world, as being in the Fair, the Devil, as being in the fire;[53] and the flesh as being herself. 

Ben Jonson has a strange, and I believe original conceit of introducingpersons to explain their plays, and make remarks on the characters. Sometimes many interruptions of this kind occur in the course of adrama, affording variety and amusement to the audience, or the reader. In "Midsummer's Night's Dream" we have the insertion of a play within aplay. The following taken from Jonson's epigrams have fine complexity, and show a certain tinge of humour. 

 THE HOUR GLASS. 

 "Consider this small dust here in the glass, By atoms moved: Could you believe that this the body was Of one that loved; And in his mistress' flame, playing like a fly, Was turned to cinders by her eye: Yes; and in death as like unblest, To have't exprest, Ev'n ashes of lovers find no rest. "

 MY PICTURE. --LEFT IN SCOTLAND. 

 I now think Love is rather deaf than blind, For else it could not be That she, Whom I adore so much, should so slight me, And cast my suit behind; I'm sure my language to her was as sweet, And every close did meet In sentence of as subtle feet, As hath the youngest, he, That sits in shadow of Apollo's tree. Oh! but my conscious fears That fly my thoughts between Tell me that she hath seen My hundreds of gray hairs, Told seven and forty years, Read so much waste, as she cannot embrace My mountain belly, and my rocky face, And all these through her eyes have stopt her ears. 

Although fond of indulging in strong language, Jonson is scarcely everguilty of any really coarse allusion--he expresses his aversion fromanything of the kind, and this in the age in which he lived, arguedgreat refinement of feeling. 

In Fletcher we mark a progress in humour. Ben Jonson was so personalthat he made enemies, and was suspected of attacking Inigo Jones andothers, but Fletcher was general in his references, and merely ridiculedthe manners of the age. The classic element disappears, and quibblingand playing with words--so fashionable in Shakespeare's time--is notfound in this author, whose humour has more point, and generally moresarcasm, but of a refined character. 

The name of Fletcher is invariably connected with Beaumont. The twoyoung men lived together in the same house, and it is even said woreeach other's clothes. But Beaumont only lived to be twenty-nine, and hasleft little in comparison with the voluminous works of Fletcher. Theywere both born in a good position, and, mingling in the fashionablesociety of their day, filled their pages with love intrigues, in coloursnot then offensive. Fletcher never married, and those who look forcontrasts between fathers and children may learn that his father, whowas Bishop of London, was suspended by Elizabeth for taking a secondwife. Our author is said to have been himself a comedy, and his death, if we can believe the story, was consistent with his gay life, for weare told that, through waiting in London for a new suit of clothes, hedied of cholera, which was raging there at the time. 

Here is a specimen of his sketches--the character of a rich usurer--

 _Sanchio. _ Thou'art very brave. 

 _Cacafogo. _ I've reason; I have money. 

 _San. _ Is money reason?

 _Cac. _ Yes, and rhyme too, captain. If you've no money you're an ass. 

 _San. _ I thank you. 

 _Cac. _ You've manners! ever thank him that has money. 

 _San. _ Wilt thou lend me any?

 _Cac. _ Not a farthing, captain; captains are casual things. 

 _San. _ Why, so are all men: Thou shalt have my bond. 

 _Cac. _ Nor bonds, nor fetters, captain: My money is my own; I make no doubt on't. 

 _Juan. _ What dost thou do with it?

 _Cac. _ Put it to pious uses-- Buy wine--

 _Juan. _ Are you for the wars, Sir?

 _Cac. _ I am not poor enough to be a soldier, Nor have I faith enough to ward a bullet; This is no living for a trench, I take it. 

 _Juan. _ You have said wisely. 

 _Cac. _ Had you but money

 You'd swear it, colonel. I'd rather drill at home A hundred thousand crowns, and with more honour, Than exercise ten thousand fools with nothing; A wise man safely feeds, fools cut their fingers. 

The prurient coarseness of Fletcher is due to the peculiarlicentiousness of the period. In his plays, although kissing issometimes provocative of jealousy, it is generally regarded, even bypersons of rank, as of less importance than it is now by boys and girls, who play "Kiss in the ring. " In "Rule a wife and have a wife" Margaritasays to the Duke

 "I may kiss a stranger, For you must be so now. "

This lady is desirous of obtaining a very easy husband, who will let herdo whatever she likes. A friend says she has found one for her in Leon, who is forthwith introduced. Margarita puts some questions to him toascertain his docility, and then says--

 "Let me try your kisses-- How the fool shakes!--I will not eat you, Sir. Beshrew my heart, he kisses wondrous manly! You must not look to be my master, Sir, Nor talk i' th' house as though you wore the breeches, No, nor command in anything. . . You must not be saucy, No, nor at any time familiar with me; Scarce know me when I call not. "

After trying and approving his kisses again, she tells him that he isnot to start or be offended if he sees her kissing anyone else. He is tokeep in the cellar, when not wanted. The proposed husband promises to bemost obedient and accommodating in everything, but as soon as he isaccepted and the ceremony performed, he appears in a totally differentcharacter. He informs his wife, in whose magnificent house he goes tolive--

 You've nothing to do here, Madam, But as a servant to sweep clean the lodgings, And at my farther will to do me service. _Margarita_ (_to her servants. _) Get me my coach! _Leon. _ Let me see who dare get it Till I command; I'll make him draw your coach And eat your couch, (which will be hard duty). 

On Cacafogo making some slighting remark, this gentle individualexclaims--

 "Peace! dirt and dunghill! I will not lose mine anger on a rascal; Provoke me more, --I will beat thy blown body Till thou rebound'st again like a tennis-ball. "

In "Monsieur Thomas" we have the following jovial passage--

 _Francisco. _ What hast thou there? a julep?

 _Hylas. _ He must not touch it; 'Tis present death. 

 _Thomas. _ You are an ass, a twirepipe, A Jeffery John Bo-peep! Thou minister? Thou mend a left-handed pack-saddle? Out! puppy! My Friend, Frank, but a very foolish fellow. Dost thou see that bottle? view it well. 

 _Fran. _ I do, Tom. 

 _Tho. _ There be as many lives in it as a cat carries; 'Tis everlasting liquor. 

 _Fran. _ What?

 _Tho. _ Old sack, boy. Old reverend sack; which for ought that I can read yet Was the philosopher's stone the wise King Ptolomus Did all his wonders by. 

 _Fran. _ I see no harm, Tom. Drink with a moderation. 

 _Tho. _ Drink with sugar, Which I have ready here, and here a glass, boy. 

 * * * * *

 Hang up your juleps, and your Portugal possets, Your barley broths and sorrel soups; they are mangy And breed the scratches only: Give me sack!

The devil now becomes a constant resource for humour. In "The Chances"Antonio has lost his jewels. His servant suggests that the thieves have"taken towards the ports. "

 _Ant. _ Get me a conjurer, One that can raise a water-devil. I'll port 'em. Play at duck and drake with my money? Take heed, fiddler, I'll dance ye by this hand: your fiddlestick I'll grease of a new fashion, for presuming To meddle with my de-gambos! get me a conjurer, Inquire me out a man that lets out devils. 

Beaumont and Fletcher were great conversationalists, their racy railleryis said to have been as good as their plays. They were members of thecelebrated Mermaid Club in Fleet Street, a centre where the wits of theday sharpened their humour in friendly conflict. In his epistle to BenJonson, Beaumont writes--

 "What things have we seen Done at the 'Mermaid!' heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame, As if that every one from whom they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life. "

Here it was that Shakespeare and Jonson often contended, the former like"a light English man-of-war" the latter like "a high-built Spanishgalleon. "

To some portion of the seventeenth century, we must attribute thosecurious stories called "The Merry tales of the Wise Men of Gotham"although by some they have been attributed to Andrew Gotham, a physicianof Henry VIII. They are said to have been suggested by a circumstancewhich occurred in the time of King John. He intended to pass throughGotham, a village in Northamptonshire, but the inhabitants placed somedifficulties in his way. On his expressing his determination to carryout his project, and sending officers to make inquiries about theopposition offered, the inhabitants were seized with a panic andpretended to have lost their senses. This was the tradition upon which, in after-times, these tales were founded, and being unobjectionable theyare well adapted for the nursery, but being mere exercises of ingenuitythey afford but very slight pleasure to older minds. Although aimless, there is something clever in them. The Wise Men determine to hedge rounda cuckoo to keep it in so that it should sing all the year. The birdseeing the hedge flies away. "A vengeance on her, " say the Wise Men, "wemade not the hedge high enough. " There is the story of the young man, whose mother told him to throw sheep's eyes at his sweetheart, and who, literally, performed her bidding. One Good Friday the Men of Gothamconsulted what to do with their red herrings, and other salt fish, andagreed to cart them into a pond that the number might increase nextyear. At the beginning of the next summer they drag the pond, and onlyfind a great eel. "A mischief on him, " they say, "he hath eaten up ourfish. " Some propose to chop him in pieces, but the rest think it wouldbe best to drown him, so they throw him into another pond. Twelve men ofGotham go to fish, and some stand on dry land, and some in the water. And one says "We have ventured wonderfully in wading; I pray that noneof us come home drowned. " So they begin to count, and as each omitshimself he can only count eleven, and so they go back to the water, andmake great lamentation. A courtier, who meets them, convinces them oftheir mistake by laying his whip on each of them, who calls out in turn"Here's one, " until twelve are counted. The minister of Gotham preachesthat men should not drink in Lent. A man, who comes for absolution, andconfesses to having been drunk in Lent, replies that fish should swim. "Yes, " returns the priest, "but in water. " "I cannot enjoin yourprayer, " he adds, "for you cannot say your Paternoster. It is folly tomake you fast because you never get meat. Labour hard, and get a dinneron Sunday, and I will come and dine with you. "

CHAPTER VII. 

Jesters--Court of Queen Elizabeth--James I. --The "Counterblasts to Tobacco"--Puritans--Charles II. --Rochester--Buckingham--Dryden--Butler. 

Professed fools seem to have been highly appreciated in the time ofShakespeare. They do not correspond to our modern idea of a fool, because there was intention in their actions, and yet we could not haveconsidered them to be really sensible men. Nor had they great talent, their gifts being generally lower than those of our professed wits. 

Addison observes that, "when a man of wit makes us laugh, it is bybetraying some oddness or infirmity in his own character, " and at thepresent day, not only do those who indulge much in humour often saythings approaching nonsense, and make themselves in other waysridiculous, but their object, being entirely idle diversion andpleasantry, appears foolish and puerile. Those who cultivate humour arenot generally to be complimented on their success, and a popular writerhas thus classified fools--"First, the ordinary fool; secondly the foolwho is one, and does not know it; thirdly, the fool who is not satisfiedwith being one in reality, but undertakes in addition to play the fool. "Thus, to a certain extent we may always regard a professed wit as asilly fellow, but still at the present day the acts or sayings of anabsolute idiot or lunatic, would be depressing and offensive, and couldafford little amusement in any way except accidentally. [54] They wouldresemble the incongruities in dreams which although strange are notgenerally laughable. And if we are not amused with a fool, neither arewe with a man who imitates him, although Cicero says that humourconsists in a man who is not a fool, speaking as though he were one. Some mistake supposed to be made by an ordinary man is what amuses us, and although humorous sayings originated in an imitation of ludicrousthings, and Quintilian's observation sometimes holds good that the samethings, which if they drop from us unintentionally are foolish, if weimitate them are humorous; still humour is not confined to this; thereis generally no such imitation, and the witty sayings of the present dayare seldom representations of such things as anyone would utter inearnest, whether he were a fool or not. 

We must not confuse folly and wit, though they may exist in the sameperson and in close relationship. The latter requires intelligence andintention. If a humorous man ever purposely enacts the dullard, theimpersonation is always modified--he is like Snug, the joiner, who doesnot "fright the ladies. " There is always some peculiar point in hisblunders; if he acted the fool to the life we should not laugh with him. We always see something clever and admirable in him, and to besuccessful in this way, a man should possess considerable mental gifts, and be able to gauge the feelings of others. Still we can hardly assentto the proposition that "it takes a wise man to make a fool. " A man maybe witty without having any constructive power of mind. It is easier tofind fault than to be faultless, to see a blemish than to produce whatis perfect--a pilot may point out rocks, but not be able to steer a safecourse. 

At the time of which we are now speaking, the double character of thecourt fool corresponded with that early and inferior humour which wasalways on the verge of the ludicrous. The connection thus established, long remained and led to witty observations being often spoken of as"foolerie. " Upon this conceit or confusion Shakespeare founded thespeech of Jaques in "As you like it. "

 Act II. Scene IV. 

 _Jaques. _ A fool! a fool!--I met a fool i' the forest, A motley fool:--a miserable fool!-- As I do live by food, I met a fool: Who laid him down, and basked him in the sun, And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms. In good set terms--and yet a motley fool. "Good morrow, fool, " quoth I. "No, Sir, " quoth he, "Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune. " And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking on it with lack lustre eye, Says very wisely, "It is ten o'clock;" "Thus we may see, " quoth he, "how the world wags; 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more t'will be eleven, And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot, And thereby hangs a tale. "

There is nothing very laughable in the above reflections, but theycontain a deep satire, and afford a beautiful example of Shakespeariancomplexity. From the mixture of wisdom and folly compounded in the"fool" of the day--who was then, it must be remembered, the monitor ofthe great--it is here implied that in his awkward way he sometimesarrived at truth better than the sage. As supremely wise men are oftenregarded as fools, so what seems folly may be the highestwisdom--"motley's your only wear. "

The fool is generally represented in Shakespeare as saying things whichhave a certain wit and shrewdness. 

 _Clown. _ God bless thee, lady. 

 _Olivia. _ Take the fool away. 

 _Clo. _ Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady. 

 * * * * *

 Good Madonna, why mournest thou?

 _Oli. _ Good fool, for my brother's death. 

 _Clo. _ I think his soul is in hell, Madonna. 

 _Oli. _ I know his soul is in heaven, fool. 

 _Clo. _ The more fool, Madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen. 

In King Lear. 

 _Fool. _ Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter fool and a sweet one?

 _Lear. _ No, lad, teach me. 

 _Fool. _ That lord that counselled thee

 To give away thy land, Come place him here by me-- Do thou for him stand: The sweet and bitter fool Will presently appear, The one in motley here, The other found out there. 

 _Lear. _ Dost thou call me fool, boy?

 _Fool. _ All thy other titles thou hast given away that thou wast born with. 

 _Kent. _ This is not altogether a fool, my lord. 

The fact was that wit was now gradually improving, and was being wieldedby so called fools in such a way that it could not be confounded withfatuity. The time was approaching when the humour manufactured byprofessed jesters would not be appreciated. Something higher and keener, such as Shakespeare has here shadowed forth would be required. This wasnot reached in Ben Jonson's time, but fools and their artifices are byhim discarded for something more natural, for country bumpkins andservants, ludicrous in their stupidity, knavery and drunkenness. Ascivilization advanced, jugglers and clowns were relegated to countryfairs. 

Henry the Eighth, at the commencement of his reign was a great patron ofmen of wit and learning, and probably the humour of More, as well as hisvirtue, recommended him to the King. We read that at Cardinal Morton'sentertainments of his Christmas company, the future Chancellor, then aboy, would often mount the stage and extemporize with so much wit andtalent as to surpass all the professional players. During his universitycourse, and shortly afterwards, he wrote many neat Latin epigrams ofwhich the two following rough translations will give some idea--

 "A thief about to be accused, implored Advice, and sent his counsel many a pound, The counsel, when o'er mighty tomes he'd pored, Replied, 'If you'd escape, you must abscond. '

 "Once in the loving cup, a guest saw flies, Removed them, drank, and then put back a few. And, being questioned, sagely thus replies, 'I like them not--but cannot speak for you. '"

He was to the last fond of pleasantry and kept a jester. 

The daughter of Henry the Eighth and Anne Boleyn[55] could scarcely havebeen deficient in mirthfulness, and we find that the dangers throughwhich she passed in her youth were not able to extinguish Elizabeth'slove of humour. According to the custom of the day she exhibited thisnot only in her sayings, but, as comedians were then often received ingreat houses, she ordered in 1583 that twelve of them should be madegrooms of the chamber, be sworn the Queen's servants, and be arrayed inher livery. The most remarkable of these was Tarlton. He came of humbleorigin. Fuller says that, while tending his father's swine, a servant ofRobert, Earl of Leicester, passing by was so pleased with his _happyunhappy_ answers that he took him to court. But Tarlton's humour wasoften that of the common fool, and depended generally upon action, look, and voice. His face was in this respect his fortune, for he had a flatnose and squinting eyes. Nash mentions that on one occasion he "peeptout his head, " probably with a grimace, at the audience, which caused aburst of laughter, and led one of the justices, who did not understandthe fun, to beat the people on the bare pates, inasmuch as they, "beingfarmers and hinds, had dared to laugh at the Queen's men. " He wascelebrated for his jigs, _i. E. _ extempore songs accompanied with taborand pipe, and sometimes with dancing. 

Fuller says he had great influence with Elizabeth, and could "undumpish"her at pleasure. Her favourites were wont to go to him to prepare theiraccess to her, and "he told the Queen more of her faults than most ofher chaplains, and cured her melancholy better than all her physicians. "

Bohun says that, "at supper she would divert herself with her friendsand attendants, and if they made no answer she would put them upon mirthand pleasant discourse with great civility. She would then also admitTarlton, a famous comedian and pleasant talker, and other men to diverther with stories of the town, and the common jests or accidents, but sothat they kept within the bounds of modesty. " Tarlton, on one occasion, cast reflections upon Leicester; and said of Raleigh, "the knavecommands the Queen, " at which she was so much offended that she forbadeany of her jesters to approach her table. 

The jests of Scogan, or rather those attributed to him, were verypopular in Elizabeth's time. This man was court-fool to Henry VII. , andis said to have been "of pleasant wit and bent to merrie devices. " Hewas fond of practical jokes, and often attacked the clergy. Elizabethseems to have had a natural gift of humour, and we read of many of herwitty sayings. On one occasion, upon an archbishop finding fault withsome of her actions, and quoting Scripture to prove she had acted moreas a politician than a Christian. "I see, my lord, " she replied, "thatyou have read the scriptures, but not the book of Kings. " She was sowell acquainted with proverbs, that on being presented with a collectionof English aphorisms, and told by the author that it contained themall, she answered, "Nay, where is 'Bate me an ace, quoth Bolton. '"

Among the sayings, good for the period, which have been attributed toher, we read that when the Archduke raised the siege of Grave, the Queenwho heard of it before her secretary, said to him, "Wot you that theArchduke is risen from the Grave. " When at Lord Burleigh's she promisedto make seven knights, and the gentlemen to be so honoured were placedin a line as the Queen was going out. The least worthy of them, however, were through interest with Lord Burleigh placed first, so that theymight have precedence of creation. But the Queen passed down the row andtook no notice of them; but when she had reached the screen, turned, andobserving, "I had almost forgotten my promise, " proceeded to knight fromthe lower end. On one of her Privy Council saying "Your Majesty was toopolitic for my Lord Burleigh, " she replied, "I have but followed thescripture--'the first shall be last and the last first. '"

The cares of sovereignty, and the opposition of her Roman Catholicsubjects led Elizabeth's humour to assume a somewhat severe complexion. Her thoughts gradually became more earnest, and her jests cynical. Moreover, as seen in Shakespeare, the age in which she lived wasreflective, and the budding activity of mind was directed towards greatinterests. There was not that impression of the vanity of all things, which grows up with the extension and maturity of society, and attractsthe mind to more fanciful and less grave considerations. A good contrastbetween Elizabeth's position, and that of James I. May be seen in thefollowing occurrences. When Henry IV. Had given the order of St. Michaelto Nicolas Clifford and Anthony Shirley, she commanded them to returnit. "I will not, " she said, "have my sheep follow the pipe of a strangeshepherd;"[56] but when James I. Was told that several noblemen of hiscourt and council, received pensions from Spain, the King replied thathe knew it well, and only wished the King of Spain would give them tentimes as much, as it would render him less able to make war upon him. 

James was a man of a very eccentric and grotesque fancy, combined with aconsiderable amount of intelligence and learning. He was particularlyfond of religious controversy, and wrote what he considered to be animportant work on "Demonologie. " From one passage we might suppose thathe thought it sinful to laugh, as he says that man can only laugh, because he can only sin. But he kept two clowns for his amusement, andalso appreciated Ben Jonson, to whom he gave the direction of the CourtMasques. He occasionally made some caustic remarks, which have come downto us, such as, "Who denys a thing he even now spake, is like him thatlooks in my face and picks my pocket. " "A travelling preacher and atravelling woman never come to any good at all. "

Sir Henry Wooton told him how the Prince of Condé sued for the title ofAltesse from the Synod of Venice. The King replied, "The Prince had goodreason to sue for it, and that the Seigniory had done ill to deny ithim, considering that the world knew how well he deserved it; it beinghis custom to raise himself upon every man's back, and to make himselfthe higher by every man's tail he could get upon. And for that cause hehoped to see him elevated by the just Justice of God to as high adignity as the gallows at last. "

James the First's writings were mostly of a religious character, andsome of them were sufficiently ludicrous. But in his "Counterblaste toTobacco, " his indignation is often mixed with humour. He observes thatsmoking came from the Indians, and continues--

"And now, good countreymen let vs (I pray you) consider what honour orpolicy can move vs to imitate the barbarous and beastly maneres of thewilde, Godlesse and slavish Indians, especially in so vile and stinkinga custome? Shall wee that disdaine to imitate the manners of ourneighbour France. .. . Shall wee, I say without blushing abase ourselvesso farre as to imitate these beastly Indians, slaves to the Spaniards, refuse to the world, and as yet aliens from the Holy Covenant of God?Why doe wee not as well imitate them in walking naked as they doe? inpreferring glasses, feathers, and such toyes to gold and preciousstones, as they doe? Yea, why do wee not deny God, and adore the divelas they doe?"

He proceeds to combat the theory, "That the braines of all men beeingnaturally cold and wet, all drie and hote things should be good forthem. " "It is, " he says, "as if a man, because the liver is hote, and asit were an oven to the stomache, would therefore apply and weare closeupon his liver and stomache a cake of lead; he might within a short time(I hope) bee susteined very cheape at an Ordinarie, besides the clearingof his conscience from that dreadful sinne of gluttonie. "

Towards the end he gives some medical testimony--

"Surely smoke becomes a kitchin farre better than a dining chamber, andyet it makes a kitchin also oftentimes in the inward parts of men, soyling and infecting them with an vnctuous and oily kind of soote, ashath been found in some great tobacco takers, that after their death, were opened. "

Addison, speaking of James' love of jesting, observes:--"The age inwhich the pun chiefly flourished was in the reign of King James theFirst. That learned monarch was himself a tolerable punster, and madevery few bishops or privy-councillors that had not sometime or othersignalized themselves by a clinch or a conundrum. It was therefore inthis age that the pun appeared with pomp and dignity. It had been beforeadmitted into merry speeches and ludicrous compositions, but was nowdelivered with great gravity from the pulpit, or pronounced in the mostsolemn manner at the council-table. " Verbal humour continued to beadmired for its ingenuity in the reign of Charles I. The childish tasteof the time in this respect is prominently exhibited in the "FamesRoule, " written by a Mrs. Mary Fage, in honour of the royal family andprincipal peers of the realm. It consists of short poems, and each oneforms an acrostic, and commences with an anagram of the name. 

The following will give specimens of this ridiculous composition:--

 "To the high and mighty. Princesse Mary, Eldest Daughter of our Soveraigne Lord King Charles. 

 MARY STVARTE. 

 Anagramma. 

 A MERRY STATV. 

 "M irth may with Princes very well agree, A Merry Statv then faire Madam be; R ightly 'twill fit your age, your vertues grace; Y eelding A Merry Statv in your face. 

 "S mile then, high Lady, while of mirth write I, T hat so my Muse may with alacrity, U nto your Highness sing without all feare, A nd a true Statv of your vertues reare: R eaching whereto, that she may higher flee, T hus humbly beg I on my bended knee, E ver A Merry Statv be to me. "

 GEORGE MANNERS. 

 Anagramma. 

 NOR AS GREEN GEM. 

 "G reat honoured Peere, and _Rutland's_ Noble Earle, E ven in vertue shining like a Pearle O ver all _Europe_, adding to your birth, R adiant bright beames of your true honoured worth: G em great and precious, see you are remaining E ver the rayes of vertue's beames retaining. 

 "M aking all _Europe_ stand amazed quite, A nd wonder much at _Rutland's_ glorious light, N or _as_ a _green gem_ let your lustre be, N o, _greenness_ here betokens _levity_, E ver more as a precious gem remain you, R ed or some orient colour still retaine you; S o _nor as green gem_, will the world proclaime you. "

The jester still remained in office in Charles the First's reign andArchee assumed the old prerogative of the motley in telling home truthsto his master. On one occasion he was ordered by the King to say grace, as the chaplain was away, upon which the jester pronounced it, "Allglory be to God on high, and little Laud to the devil. " At which all thecourtiers smiled, because it reflected upon the Archbishop ofCanterbury, who was a little man. The King said he would tell Laud, andwhat would he do then? "Oh!" said Archee, "I will hide me where he willnever find me. " "Where is that?" asked the King. "In his pulpit, "answered Archee, "for I am sure he never goes there. "

The rebellion against Charles the First and the success of the Puritansled to a remarkable development of religious feeling. Men seemed for themoment to think more of the next world than of the present, seasonedtheir language with texts, and from Scripture adopted new names suitableto a new life. Their usual tone of conversation is thus humorouslydescribed by Harrison Ainsworth. 

Captain Stelfax pays Colonel Maunsel a domiciliary visit, and an oldRoyalist retainer tells the redoubtable Roundhead that he looks morelike a roystering Cavalier than a Puritan, to which the latter replies--

"Go to, knave, and liken me not to a profane follower of Jehoram. Takeheed that thou answerest me truthfully. Thou art newly returned fromthe battle-field whereat the young man Charles Stuart was utterlyrouted, and where our general, like Pekah the son of Remaliah slew manythousands of men in one day, because they had forsaken the Lord God oftheir fathers. Didst thou bear arms in the service of Ahaz?"

One Increase Micklegift soon afterwards fell into the captain's badgraces--

"I begin to suspect it was by thy instrumentality that he hath escaped. "

"How could that be seeing I was with thee in the closet. " Micklegiftrejoined. 

"It might easily be, since it was by thy devise that I was led into thesnare. Bitterly shalt thou rue it, if I find thee leagued with theAmalekites. "

All this affords a good idea of the phraseology of these men, some ofwhom indulged in such names as "Nehemiah, Lift-up-Hand" and"Better-Late-than-Never, " and it must be remembered, to their credit, that there never was a more orderly army than that of Cromwell. Inaccordance with the sentiments then entertained all theatricalexhibitions were prohibited. Such austerity and self-denial could not beof long continuance--it was kept up by an effort, and led to aninevitable reaction, and so we find that the court of the "MerryMonarch" became notorious in history for its dissipation. Humourproportionally changed from what it had been under Charles I. , and weread that that the old Earl of Norwich, who had been esteemed thegreatest wit, was now quite out of fashion. 

Barbarous nations have little idea of delicacy of any kind; andcivilisation finds it hard entirely to change nature, so thatwhere-ever the ground is allowed to lie fallow, the old weeds appear intheir noisesome rankness. Hence from time to time we find indelicacyspringing up, and made to serve the purposes of those who know that theevil plant is not radically extirpated. One of the most offensive men inthis respect was Peter Aretinus, an Italian adventurer, who became agreat favourite with the Emperor Charles V. He is said to have died fromfalling back over his chair in a fit of laughter, on hearing someindelicate joke. But modes of death have often been invented to accordwith the lives of those who suffered them, just as dithyrambic Anacreonis said to have been choked by a grape stone. 

Louis XI. Was also addicted to this jesting which is not convenient. Weread that he told Edward IV. In a jocose way that he was right glad tosee him at Paris, and that if he would come and divert himself with thegay ladies there, he would assign for his confessor, the Cardinal ofBourbon, who, he knew, would grant him easy absolution for peccadilloesof love and gallantry. Edward was much pleased with this raillery, forhe knew the Cardinal was a gay man. Louis was afterwards in great alarmupon Edward's acceptance of his invitation. 

The humour of Charles II. And his court consisted more of jollity thanwit. The king was always ready to laugh outright, even in church at thesermon. He encouraged and led the way in an indelicate kind of jesting, which he seems to have learned during his travels in France. On histelling Lord Shaftesbury, "I believe Shaftesbury, that thou art thewickedest dog in England, " the statesman humbly replied, "May it pleaseyour Majesty, of a subject, I believe I am. " We should not expect toomuch from the son of Henrietta Maria. It is related that one morningwhen at Exeter, pressing her hand to her head she said to her physician, "Mayerne, I am afraid I shall go mad some day. " "Nay, " he replied, "yourMajesty need not fear _going_ mad; you have been so some time. "

But Charles owed much to his gay and easy manner. Notwithstanding hisfaults "he was so pleasant a man that no one could be sorrowful underhis government. " He sometimes dined at the annual civic banquet, and oneof the company present on the occasion when Sir Robert Viner was LordMayor, refers to it as follows. "Sir Robert was a very loyal man, and ifyou will allow the expression, very fond of his sovereign, but what withthe joy he felt at heart for the honour done him by his prince andthrough the warmth he was in with continual toasting healths of theroyal family, his lordship grew a little fond of His Majesty, andentered into a familiarity not altogether so graceful in so public aplace. The king understood very well how to extricate himself in allkinds of difficulties, and with a hint to the company to avoid ceremony, stole off and made towards his coach which stood ready for him inGuildhall yard. But the Mayor liked his company so well, and was grownso intimate, that he pursued him hastily and catching him fast by thehand, cried out with a vehement oath and accent, 'Sir, you shall stayand take t'other bottle. ' The airy monarch looked kindly at him over hisshoulder, and with a smile and graceful air (for I saw him at the timeand do now) repeated this line of the old song 'He that's drunk is asgreat as a King, ' and immediately turned back and complied with hisrequest. "

Tom Killegrew was the last of his cloth; forced and constant jestingbecoming less and less appreciated. As the jesters approached their end, they had more of the moralist and politician in them than of themountebank. We may judge of Killegrew's wit, when we read that one dayon his appearance Charles said to his gay companions, "Now we shall hearour faults. " "No, " replied the jester, "I don't care to trouble my headwith that which all the town talks of. "[57] Killegrew must have had finescope for his sarcasm. In these times the character of the monarch gavethe tone to society, and was reflected in the dramatists. Thus we findthe earnestness of Elizabeth in Shakespeare, the whimsicality of Jamesin Jonson, and the licentiousness of Charles II. In the poets of theRestoration. The deterioration of men and of humour in the last reign ismarked by the fact that ridicule was mostly directed not against vice asin Roman satire, but against undeserved misfortunes. Even virtue andlearning did not afford immunity; Bishop Warburton writes: "This weapon(in the dissolute times of Charles II. ) completed the ruin of the bestminister of that age. The historians tell us that Chancellor Hyde wasbrought into his Majesty's contempt by this court argument. Theymimicked his walk and gesture with a fire-shovel and bellows for themace and purse. "

The indelicacy of which Charles and his companions was guilty, was notof a primitive and ignorant kind, but always of an amatory character, and at the expense of the fair sex; jests formerly so common as toobtain the name of "japes. " The writers of that day are objectionablenot merely for coarseness of this kind, but for the large amount of it, as one artiste in complimentary attire might be tolerated where a crowdof seminude performers could not. The poems of Sedley and Rochester areas abundant in indelicacy as they are deficient in humour. The epigramof Sedley to "Julius" gives a more correct idea of his character than ofhis usual dullness. 

 "Thou swearest thou'll drink no more; kind Heaven send Me such a cook or coachman, but no friend. "

Rochester might have produced something good. His verses have moretraces of poetry and humour than we should expect from a man who out ofthe thirty-four years of his life, was for five of them continuallydrunk. He nearly always attunes his harp to the old subject, so as tobecome hopelessly monotonous. Inconstancy has great charms for him, andhe consequently imputes it also to the ladies--

 "Womankind more joy discovers Making fools, than keeping lovers. "

Again:

 "Love like other little boys, Cries for hearts as they for toys, Which when gained, in childish play, Wantonly are thrown away. "

He seems to have been oppressed by a disbelief in any kind of good inthe world. His philosophy, whenever he ventured upon any, was scepticaland irreverent. His best attempt in this direction was a poem "UponNothing, " which commences:

 "Nothing! thou elder brother ev'n to shade, That had'st a being 'ere the world was made, And (well fixt) art alone of ending not afraid. Ere Time and Place were, Time and Place were not, When primitive Nothing, Something straight begot, Then all proceeded from the great united--What?"

Sometimes he amused himself writing libels on the king, and some of hissatires contain more or less truth, as--

 "His father's foes he does reward, Preserving those that cut off's head, Old Cavaliers, the crown's best guard, He lets them starve for want of bread. Never was a King endued With so much grace and gratitude. "

Buckingham does not appear to have agreed with Rochester about Charles, for he writes, "He was an illustrious exception to all the common rulesof physiognomy, for with a most saturnine and harsh sort of countenance, he was both of a merry and merciful disposition. " Buckingham's humourwas of a very poor description, but he wrote a Comedy "The Rehearsal, "which was highly approved, mostly, however, because aimed at Dryden, andthe heroic drama. From one passage in it, we observe that he noticed thedifference between the effect of humour in the plot, and in the dialogueof the play--

 _Prettyman. _ Well, Tom, I hope shortly we shall have another coin for thee; for now the wars are coming on, I shall grow to be a man of metal. 

 _Bayes. _ O, you did not do that half enough. 

 _Johnson. _ Methinks he does it admirably. 

 _Bayes. _ I, pretty well, but he does not hit me in't, he does not top his part. 

 _Thimble. _ That's the way to be stamped yourself, Sir, I shall see you come home like an angel for the king's evil, with a hole bored through you. 

 _Bayes. _ There he has hit it up to the hilt. How do you like it now, gentlemen? is not this pure wit?

 _Smith. _ 'Tis snip snap, Sir, as you say, but methinks not pleasant nor to the purpose, for the play does not go on. The plot stands still. 

 _Bayes. _ Why, what the devil is the plot good for but to bring in fine things. 

Dryden could scarcely be expected to remain silent under the blow hereaimed at his plays. An opportunity for revenge soon presented itself, when he undertook to compose a political satire upon Monmouth and hisintrigues. Some say that this remarkable poem was written at the commandof Charles. It had a great success, five editions being sold within theyear--one cause of its popularity being its novel character. The idea ofintroducing Scriptural impersonations into a poem was new or nearly so, and very successful. Monmouth had already been called Absalom, and asthe King (David) was very fond of him, it was desirable to place hisshortcomings to the account of his advisers, represented by Achitophel. The way in which Dryden handled his adversaries may be understood fromsuch passages as:--

 "Levi, thou art a load: I'll lay thee down And show rebellion bare, without a gown; Poor slaves in metre, dull and addle-pated Who rhime below e'en David's psalms translated. "

Doeg is another enemy:--

 "'Twere pity treason at his door to lay Who makes heaven's gate a lock to its own key. Let him rail on, let his invective muse Have four and twenty letters to abuse, Which, if he jumbles to one line of sense Indict him of a capital offence. "

This satire led to some replies, which Dryden crushed in his "MacFlecnoe, " a poem named after an Irish priest--an inferior poet--who, butfor this notice, would never have been known to posterity. Shadwell wasthe man really aimed at; Mac Flecnoe exclaims:--

 "Shadwell alone, of all my sons, is he Who stands confirmed in full stupidity, The rest to some faint meaning make pretence But Shadwell never deviates into sense. "[58]

After much in the same strain, he finishes with:--

 "Thy genius calls thee not to purchase fame In keen iambics, but mild anagram. Leave writing plays, and choose for thy command Some peaceful province in acrostic land, There thou mayest wings display and altars raise, And torture one poor world ten thousand ways. "

Dryden calls this kind of satire Varronian, as he weaves a sort ofimaginary story into which he introduces the object of his attack. Hewas under the impression that this was the first piece of ridiculewritten in heroics, and his claim seemed correct as far as England wasconcerned, but Boileau and Tassoni had preceded him. Willmot says, "Dryden is wanting in the graceful humour of Tassoni, and exquisitepower of Boileau. His wit has more weight than edge--it beat in armour, but could not cut gause. " The greater part of Dryden's satire could notcut anything, nor be distinguished from elaborate vituperation. Hewrote an essay on Satire, in which he shows a much better knowledge ofhistory than of humour. His best passages are in the "Spanish Friars, "but they are weak and mainly directed against the profligacy of theChurch. The servant says of the friar, "There's a huge, fat religiousgentleman coming up, Sir. He says he's but a friar, but he's big enoughto be a Pope; his gills are as rosy as a turkey-cock's; his great bellywalks in state before him like an harbinger, and his gouty legs comelimping after it. Never was such a ton of devotion seen. "

Samuel Butler affords one of the many examples of highly gifted literarymen who have died in great poverty. His works, recommended by LordDorset, were read largely, and even by the King himself; but there wasthen no great demand for books, and authors had to look to patrons, andeat the uncertain bread of dependence. We may suppose, however, that hewas an improvident man, for during his life he held several offices, andwas at one time steward of Ludlow Castle. 

Butler possessed a real gift of humour, and an astonishing fertility ofinvention. To us there seems to be still too much indelicacy in hiswritings, though less than heretofore, and there is a considerableamount of bear-fighting, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. This rough and cruel pastime was very common in that day. We read ofbear-baiting at Kenilworth to amuse Queen Elizabeth, and Alleyn, themunificent founder of Dulwich College, was not only a dramatic authorand manager, but "Master of the bears and dogs, " which seems to havebeen a post of honour. To the present day, a ring for such sports is tobe seen outside the principal gate of Battle Abbey. 

We have already observed that the drama of Spain became the model forthat of modern Europe, and we are not therefore surprised to find thatthe main design in Sir Hudibras is to produce an English Don Quixote. All the accessories of the work point to this imitation; there is a longaccount of his arms, his Squire, and horse. But beyond this, he aimed atseveral well-known rogues of his day, especially those pretending tonecromancy and prophetic powers, who seem to have been numerous. [59]This gave the poem an interest at that day which it cannot have now, andit was increased by the amusing hits he makes at the Puritans, who hadlately convulsed the State, and whom he had been able to gauge when hewas employed by Sir Samuel Luke. [60] The lines are well known in whichhe speaks of the time:--

 "When pulpit, drum, ecclesiastic, Was beat with fist, instead of a stick;"

and the general outcry against dignitaries is thus represented:--

 "The oyster women locked their fish up And trudged away to cry 'No Bishop'; Botchers left old clothes in the lurch, And fell to turn and patch the church; Some cry'd the Covenant, instead Of pudding, pies, and gingerbread!"

Sir Hudibras is a Presbyterian "true blue. "

 "Such as do build their faith upon The holy test of pike and gun; Decide all controversies by Infallible artillery: And prove their doctrine orthodox By apostolic blows and knocks. 

 "Rather than fail, they will defy That which they love most tenderly; Quarrel with minced pies, and disparage. Their best and dearest friend, plum porridge; Fat pig and goose itself oppose, And blaspheme custard through the nose. "

Sir Hudibras was learned in controversy:--

 "For he a rope of sand could twist As tough as learned Sorbonist And weave fine cobwebs fit for skull That's empty when the moon is full, Such as take lodgings in a head That's to be let unfurnished. "

He had been at the siege of "Bullen, " by Henry VIII. , and his breecheswere lined

 "With many a piece Of ammunition, bread and cheese, And fat black puddings, proper food For warriors that delight in blood. For as he said he always chose To carry victual in his hose, That often tempted rats and mice The ammunition to surprise. "

Hudibras speaking of men fighting with an unworthy enemy, says:--

 "So th' Emperor Caligula That triumphed o'er the British sea, Took crabs and oysters prisoners, And lobsters 'stead of cuirassiers; Engaged his legions in fierce bustles With periwinkles, prawns, and mussels, And led his troops with furious gallops To charge whole regiments of scallops; Not like their ancient way of war, To wait on his triumphal car; But, when he went to dine or sup, More bravely ate his captives up. "

Butler begins one canto with

 "Ah me! what perils do environ The man that meddles with cold iron. "

His political views are seen in the following:

 "For as a fly that goes to bed Rests with its tail above its head, So in this mongrel state of ours The rabble are the supreme powers. That horsed us on their backs to show us A jadish trick at last, and throw us. "

Several minor poems have been attributed to Butler, but most of themhave been considered spurious. Some, however, are admitted--one of whichis a humorous skit against the Royal Society, who were supposed at thatday to be too minutely subtle. It is called "An Elephant in the Moon. ""Some learned astronomers think they have made a great discovery, but itis really owing to a mouse and some gnats having got into theirtelescope. "

The light, short metre in which Butler composed his comic narrative waswell suited to the subject, and corresponded to the "swift iambics" ofArchilochus. Dryden says that double rhymes are necessary companions ofburlesque writing. Addison, however, is of opinion that Hudibras "wouldhave made a much more agreeable figure in heroics, " to which CowdenClarke replies, "Why, bless his head! the whole and sole intention ofthe poem is _mock_ heroic, and the structure of the verse is burlesque, "and he also tells us that Butler's rhymes constitute one feature of hiswit. Certainly he had some strange terminations to his lines. Hudibrasspeaking of hanging Sidrophel and Whackum says:--

 "I'll make them serve for perpendiclars As true as e'er were used by bricklayers. "

One of the bear-baiting mob annoys Rapho's steed, who

 "Began to kick, and fling, and wince, As if he'd been beside his sense, Striving to disengage from thistle That gall'd him sorely under his tail. "

Again we have:--

 "An ancient castle that commands Th' adjacent parts, in all the fabric You shall not see one stone, nor a brick. "

The astrologers made an instrument to examine the moon to

 "Tell what her diameter per inch is; And prove that she's not made of green cheese. "

By the interchange which often takes place between the poetical andludicrous, this roughness of versification, then allowable, appears nowso childish, that Lamb and Cowden Clark mistook it for humour. But wemight extract from the writers of that day many ridiculous rhymes, evidently intended to be serious. 

The humour of Butler was in his time more popular than the sentiment ofMilton, but he obtained no commensurate remuneration. Wycherley kindlyendeavoured to interest Buckingham on his behalf, and had almostsucceeded, when two handsome women passed by, and the Duke left him inpursuit of them. John Wesley's father has written Butler's epitaph inimperishable sarcasm:--

 "See him when starved to death and turned to dust, Presented with a monumental bust; The poet's fate is here in emblem shown, He asked for bread, and he received--a stone. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

Comic Drama of the Restoration--Etherege--Wycherley. 

The example set by Beaumont and Fletcher seems to have been muchfollowed by their immediate successors. Decker wrote conjointly withWebster and Middleton, and it is sometimes difficult to distinguish hiswork. His power of invective was well known; and in his humour there issuch straining after strong words and effective phrases, as to seemquite unnatural. His "Gull's Hornbook" is written against coxcombs, andhe says their "vinegar railings shall not quench his Alpineresolutions. "

Etherege and Wycherley ushered in the comic drama of the Restoration. They were both courtiers, and the successful writers of this period tooktheir tone from that of "the quality. "

George, (afterwards Sir George) Etherege was born in 1636. He was knownas "Gentle George" or "Easy Etherege, " and it is said that he washimself a fop, and painted the character of Dorimant in Sir FoplingFlutter from himself. In his principal plays there is very littlehumour, though he gives some amusing sketches of the affectations of themetropolis. 

 _Mistress Loveit. _ You are grown an early riser, I hear. 

 _Belinda. _ Do you not wonder, my dear, what made me abroad so soon?

 _Lov. _ You do not use to do so. 

 _Bel. _ The country gentlewomen I told you of (Lord! they have the oddest diversions) would never let me rest till I promised to go with them to the markets this morning, to eat fruit and buy nosegays. 

 _Lov. _ Are they so fond of a filthy nosegay?

 _Bel. _ They complain of the stinks of the town, and are never well but when they have their noses in one. 

 _Lov. _ There are essences and sweet waters. 

 _Bel. _ O, they cry out upon perfumes they are unwholesome, one of 'em was falling into a fit with the smell of these Narolii. 

 _Lov. _ Methinks, in complaisance, you should have had a nosegay too. 

 _Bel. _ Do you think, my dear, I could be so loathsome to trick myself up with carnations and stock-gilly flowers? I begged their pardon, and told them I never wore anything but Orange-flowers and Tuberose. That which made me willing to go was a strange desire I had to eat some fresh nectarines. 

Wycherley was the son of a Shropshire gentleman who being a Royalist, and not willing to trust him to the Puritans, sent him to be educated inFrance. He became a Roman Catholic, but afterwards recanted. 

Wycherley was remarkable for his beauty, and stalwart proportions, hewas called "manly" or "brawny" Wycherley; and the notorious Duchess ofCleveland was so captivated by his appearance, that she made hisacquaintance when passing in her carriage by jocosely calling out at himsome abusive epithets. Afterwards, we are told that she often visitedWycherley at the Temple, disguised as a country girl in a straw hat, with pattens on her feet, and a basket on her arm. Later, he had themisfortune to make the acquaintance of the Countess of Drogheda on thePantiles at Tunbridge Wells, and by secretly marrying her incurred theKing's displeasure. He was finally reduced to great distress, but JamesII. , recognising his talent, gave him a pension, and saved him fromdestitution in his old age. 

Wycherley wrote his first play in 1667. In comparing him withShakespeare we find the same difference as existed between the old andnew comedy in Greece. Political characters have disappeared togetherwith hostility and combats on the stage, while amorous intrigue islargely developed. There is at the same time considerable sprightlinessin the dialogue, and the tricks, deceptions and misadventures of loversfill the pages with much that is ingenious and amusing. In the"Gentleman Dancing Master, " a young spark pretends to a rich father thathe is only visiting his daughter to teach her to dance. A rival lover--aFrenchified puppy--is made unconsciously to co-operate in his owndiscomfiture, while the duped father jokes with the supposed "dancingmaster, " and asks him whether he is not engaged to one of his richpupils, laughing heartily at the picture he draws to himself of herfather's indignation. Again, in "A Country Wife, " a jealous husbandobliges his spouse to write a disdainful letter to a gallant, but thelady slyly substitutes one of quite a different character, which thehusband duly and pompously delivers to him. The humour of Wycherley isalmost entirely of this kind. Here are no verbal quips, no sallies ofprofessed fools, no stupidities of country boobies. These have passedaway from good comedy. Speaking of the change, he says that formerlythey were contented to make serving-men fools on the stage, "but now youshall scarcely see a fool on the stage who is not a knight. " The factwas that a higher kind of humour was required, and accordingly we now, for the first time, hear of "wits"--men of good birth and position, whoprided themselves on their talent. They were generally remarkable fortheir manners and address, and affected a superiority in acuteness, butnot always in humour. Wycherley speaks of wits not exactly in the senseof humorists, but rather as coxcombs, endued with a certain cunning:"Your court wit is a fashionable, insinuating, flattering, cringing, grimacing fellow, and has wit enough to solicit a suit of love; and ifhe fail he has malice enough to ruin the woman with a dull lampoon; buthe rails still at the man that is absent, for all wits rail; and his witproperly lies in combing perukes, matching ribbons, and being severe, asthey call it, upon other peoples' clothes. "

 _Lydia. _ Now, what is your coffee wit?

 _Dapperwit. _ He is a lying, censorious, gossiping, quibbling wretch, and sets people together by the ears over that sober drink--coffee; he is a wit as he is a commentator upon the Gazette; and he rails at the pirates of Algiers, the Grand Signior of Constantinople, and the Christian Grand Signior. 

 _Lydia. _ What kind of wit is your pollwit?

 _Dap. _ He is a fidgetting, busy, dogmatical, hot-headed fop, that speaks always in sentences and proverbs, and he rails perpetually against the present Government. His wit lies in projects and monopolies, and penning speeches for Parliament men--

He goes on to speak of the scribble wit, and judge wit or critic, but ingeneral wits were regarded as rakes and not long afterwards we find itdebated whether a woman can be witty and virtuous. 

Wycherley did not aim much at facetiousness, nor introduce many humorousepisodes, but passages incidentally occur which show he had considerabletalent in that direction. The first from "Love in a Wood, " is anironical conflict between one Gripe, a rich but parsimous Alderman, anda Mrs. Joyner, a sly, designing old woman. 

 _Gripe. _ I am full of your praise, and it will run over. 

 _Joyner. _ Nay, sweet Sir, you are----

 _Gripe. _ Nay, sweet Mrs. Joyner, you are----

 _Joy. _ Nay, good your worship, you are----

 (_Stops her mouth with his handkerchief_)

 _Gripe. _ I say you are----

 _Joy. _ I must not be rude with your worship. 

 _Gripe. _ You are a nursing mother to the saints; through you they gather together, through you they fructify and increase, and through you the child cries out of the hand-basket. 

 _Joy. _ Through you virgins are married, or provided for as well; through you the reprobate's wife is made a saint; and through you the widow is not disconsolate, nor misses her husband. 

 _Gripe. _ Through you----

 _Joy. _ Indeed you will put me to the blush. 

 _Gripe. _ Blushes are badges of imperfection--Saints have no shame. You are the flower of matrons, Mrs. Joyner. 

 _Joy. _ You are the pink of courteous Aldermen. 

 _Gripe. _ You are the muffler of secrecy. 

 _Joy. _ You are the head-band of Justice. 

 _Gripe. _ Thank you, sweet Mrs. Joyner; do you think so indeed? You are--you are the bonfire of devotion. 

 _Joy. _ You are the bellows of zeal. 

 _Gripe. _ You are the cupboard of charity. 

 _Joy. _ You are the fob of liberality. 

 _Gripe. _ You are the rivet of sanctified love or wedlock. 

 _Joy. _ You are the pick-lock and dark-lantern of policy; and in a word a conventicle of virtues. 

 _Gripe. _ Your servant, your servant, sweet Mrs. Joyner! You have stopped my mouth. 

 _Joy. _ Your servant, your servant, sweet Alderman! I have nothing to say. 

Indelicacy in words has by this time become very much reduced, althoughhere and there we find some cant expressions of the day which shock oursensibilities. Much refinement in this respect could not be expected ata period where a young lady of fortune could be represented as callingher maid, and afterwards herself, a "damned jade, " and a lady from thecountry as saying she had not yet had "her bellyful of sights" inLondon. 

"The Plain Dealer" is a naval captain in the time of the Dutch war. Olivia says, "If he be returned, then shall I be pestered again with his boisterous sea-love; have my alcove smell like a cabin, my chamber perfumed with his tarpaulin Brandenburgh, and hear volleys of brandy-sighs, enough to make a fog in one's room. Foh! I hate a lover that smells like Thames Street. "

The Plain Dealer, _i. E. _, the sea-captain Manly, meets with a lawyer, and they converse in this way, _Manly. _ Here's a lawyer I know threatening us with another greeting. 

 _Lawyer. _ Sir! Sir! your very servant; I was afraid you had forgotten me. 

 _Man. _ I was not afraid you had forgotten me. 

 _Law. _ No, Sir; we lawyers have pretty good memories. 

 _Man. _ You ought to have by your wits. 

 _Law. _ O, you are a merry gentleman, Sir; I remember you were merry when I was last in your company. 

 _Man. _ I was never merry in your company, Mr. Lawyer, sure. 

 _Law. _ Why I am sure you joked upon me, and shammed me all night long. 

 _Man. _ Shammed! prithee what barbarous law-term is that?

 _Law. _ Shamming! why, don't you know that? 'tis all our way of wit, Sir. 

 _Man. _ I am glad I don't know it, then. Shamming! what does he mean by it, Freeman?

 _Free. _ Shamming is telling an insipid dull lie with a dull face, which the sly wag, the author, only laughs at himself; and making himself believe 'tis a good jest, puts the sham only upon himself. 

Manly meets an Alderman. 

 _Man. _ Here's a city-rogue will stick as hard upon us as if I owed him money. 

 _Ald. _ Captain, noble Sir, I am yours heartily, d'ye see; why should you avoid your old friends?

 _Man. _ And why should you follow me? I owe you nothing. 

 _Ald. _ Out of my hearty respects to you; for there is not a man in England----

 _Man. _ Thou wouldst save from hanging at the expense of a shilling only. 

 _Ald. _ Nay, nay, but Captain, you are like enough to tell me----

 _Man. _ Truth, which you wont care to hear; therefore you had better go talk with somebody else. 

 _Ald. _ No, I know nobody can inform me better of some young wit or spendthrift, who has a good dipped seat and estate in Middlesex, Hertfordshire, Essex, or Kent; any of these would serve my turn; now if you know of such an one, and would but help----

 _Man. _ You to finish his ruin. 

 _Ald. _ I' faith you should have a snip----

 _Man. _ Of your nose, you thirty in the hundred rascal; would you make me your squire-setter?

 (_Takes him by the nose. _)

Two lovers, Lord Plausible and Novel, have the following dialogue abouttheir chances of success with a certain lady who is wooed by both. 

 _Novel. _ Prithee, prithee, be not impertinent, my lord; some of you lords are such conceited, well assured impertinent rogues. 

 _Plausible. _ And you noble wits are so full of shamming and drollery, one knows not where to have you seriously. 

 _Nov. _ Prithee, my lord, be not an ass. Dost thou think to get her from me? I have had such encouragements--

 _Plau. _ I have not been thought unworthy of 'em. 

 _Nov. _ What? not like mine! Come to an éclaircissement, as I said. 

 _Plau. _ Why, seriously then; she told me Viscountess sounded prettily. 

 _Nov. _ And me, that Novel was a name she would sooner change hers for, than any title in England. 

 _Plau. _ She has commended the softness and respectfulness of my behaviour. 

 _Nov. _ She has praised the briskness of my raillery in all things, man. 

 _Plau. _ The sleepiness of my eyes she liked. 

 _Nov. _ Sleepiness! dulness, dulness. But the fierceness of mine she adored. 

 _Plau. _ The brightness of my hair she liked. 

 _Nov. _ Brightness! no the greasiness, I warrant! But the blackness and lustre of mine she admires. 

 _Plau. _ The gentleness of my smile. 

 _Nov. _ The subtilty of my leer. 

 _Plau. _ The clearness of my complexion. 

 _Nov. _ The redness of my lips. 

 _Plau. _ The whiteness of my teeth. 

 _Nov. _ My jaunty way of picking them. 

 _Plau. _ The sweetness of my breath. 

 _Nov. _ Ha! ha! nay there she abused you, 'tis plain; for you know what Manly said: the sweetness of your pulvillio she might mean; but for your breath! ha! ha! ha! Your breath is such, man, that nothing but tobacco can perfume; and your complexion nothing could mend but the small-pox. 

CHAPTER IX. 

Tom Brown--His Prose Works--Poetry--Sir Richard Blackmore--D'Urfey--Female Humorists--Carey. 

Whether it was owing to the commotions of the Civil War in which "fearsand jealousies had soured the people's blood, and politics and polemicshad almost driven mirth and good humour out of the nation, " or whetherit was from a dearth of eminent talent, humour seems to have made littleprogress under the Restoration. The gaiety of the Merry Monarch and hiscompanions had nothing intellectual in it, and although "Tom" Brown[61]tells us that "it was during the reign of Charles II. That learning ingeneral flourished, and the Muses, like other ladies, met with thecivilest sort of entertainment, " his own works show that the best witsof the day could not soar much above the attempts of Sedley andRochester. Had Brown not acquired in his day the character of ahumorist, we should think that he equally well deserved that of a man oflearning, for whereas he shows an acquaintance with the classics andmodern languages, his writings, which are of considerable length, contain little Attic salt. He was born in 1663, the son of a substantialShropshire farmer, and was sent to Christ Church, Oxford, where hebecame as remarkable for his quickness and proficiency, as for theirregularity of his conduct. On one occasion, owing to his having beenguilty of some objectionable frolic, he was about to be expelled, when, upon his writing a penitential letter, the Dean, who seems to have knownhis talent, promised to forgive him on his translating extempore theepigram of Martial. 

 "Non amo te, Zabidi, nec possum dicere quare; Hoc tantum possum dicere non amo te. "

The young delinquent replied in words now better known than theoriginal, "I do not love you, Dr. Fell, But why I cannot tell, But this I know full well, I do not love you, Dr. Fell. "

At this period he occasionally indulged in such silly effusions as the"Adverbial Declaration, " which he first wrote in Latin, on "MotherWarner's bellows at Oxford. "

Brown was finally obliged to leave the University, and went up to Londonto seek his fortune. The unpromising and reckless spirit in which heset out, is probably reflected in one of his pieces entitled "A Dialoguebetween two Oxford scholars. "

 _A. _ Well, I see thou art resolved to leave us. I will not say, "Go, and be hanged, " but go and turn country parson. 

 _B. _ That's almost as bad, as the world goes now. But thanks to my stars, I know a better trick than that. 

 _A. _ It may be thou art fallen out with mankind, and intendest to turn quack; or as they call it in the country, doctor. 

 _B. _ No such matter; the _French_ can kill men fast enough, and for women thou knowest my kindness. 

 _A. _ But some of them have lived too long; and there are others so miserable, that even compassion will incline thee to help them out of the world. I can assure thee 'tis a profitable calling; for whether thou dost kill or cure, thy fees will be put in thy hand. 

 _B. _ Yes, when they are found. But, prithee, speak no more of it, for I am resolved against it. 

 _A. _ What, then, art thou resolv'd for the law? Methinks thou should'st have too much University learning and wit for that profession--

 _B. _ And too much honesty. But I'll spare thee the pains of guessing, and tell thee in short what my condition is, and what I design. My portion is all spent--save fifty pounds; and with that I am resolved for London or some other wealthy place, where conventicles abound: and as a man of tender conscience and infinitely dissatisfied with several things in the Church of England, I will endeavour by some means or other to force myself into an acquaintance with some of their leading men, and more especially with some of the most zealous and wonderful women among them; and this point once gained, I doubt not, but before my stock is half spent, I shall receive a call to be pastor or holder-forth in some congregation or other--why dost smile?

 _A. _ At my friend's design. And I cannot but admire how it came into thy head. Thy ability to manage such a design I know very well; but how thou wilt dispense with the knavery of it, I am yet to learn. 

 _B. _ That's a small matter. As the world goes one must practise a little knavery, or resolve to leave the world. Dost thou know that religious cheats are licensed by a law? and shall I live and die without taking advantage of it? Believe me, friend, Nature has fitted me pretty well to be one of these godly mountebanks, and a little art, together with a few months' conversation with that sort of people will supply all natural defects. Cannot I put on, when I please, a grave and serious countenance, and with head depending on one shoulder a little more than on the other, sigh for the iniquities of the time and corruptions of the Church? Cannot I wipe mine eyes with the fair pocket-cloth, as if I wept for all your abominations? Cannot I grieve in spirit as if ready to burst with grief and compassion. And cannot I likewise, when time serves, and company is disposed to be kindly affected with it, smile and fleer as takingly? And what hurt is there in this? Sure I may use my own face as I please. 

We need scarcely say that Brown failed in his shrewd scheming; and hewas soon fain to take the humble position of a schoolmaster at Kingstonupon Thames, for which his acquirements qualified him. But his literaryambition would not allow him to remain long at this drudgery, and wesoon find him wandering up again to town, where he was againunfortunate. At this time, men of letters expected little from the saleof books; but often obtained patrons who conferred valuable appointmentsupon them. Brown's temper and position rendered him ineligible for thissort of promotion. Not being a gentleman by birth, he had no goodintroductions, nor would he have been very acceptable in the houses ofthe great. His coarseness in writing--excessive even in that day--wasprobably reflected in his manners and language, and he had so littleprudence that he ridiculed not only the clergy, but was always ready tolose a friend rather than a joke. Mere literary talent will not procuresuccess in society. 

Brown wrote a variety of essays, generally rather admonitory thanhumorous. His "Pocket-book of Common Places" resembles a collection ofProverbs or good sayings. It commences, "To see the number of churches and conventicles open every Sunday, astranger would fancy London all religion. But to see the number oftaverns, ale-houses, &c. , he would imagine Bacchus was the only God thatis worshipped there. If no _trades_ were permitted but those which wereuseful and necessary, Lombard Street, Cheapside, and the Exchange mightgo a-begging. For more are fed by our _vanities_ and _vices_ than by ourvirtues, and the necessities of Nature. "

But his favourite and characteristic mode of writing was under the formof letters. We have "Letters Serious and Comical, " "Diverting Letters toGentlemen. " One letter is to four ladies with whom the author was inlove at the same time. 

He probably took his idea of "Letters from the Dead to the Living, " fromLucian. He never spares Dissenters, and comically makes a Quaker relatehis warm reception in the lower world:--

"A parcel of black spiritual Janissaries saluted me as intimately as ifI had been resident in these parts during the term of an apprenticeship;at last, up comes a swinging, lusty, overgrown, austere devil, armedwith an ugly weapon like a country dung-fork, looking as sharp about theeyes as a Wood Street officer, and seemed to deport himself after such amanner that discovered he had ascendancy over the rest of the immortalnegroes, and as I imagined, so 'twas quickly evident; for as soon as heespied me leering between the diminutive slabbering-bib and theextensive rims of my coney-wood umbrella, he chucks me under the chinwith his ugly toad-coloured paw, that stunk as bad of brimstone as acard-match new-lighted, saying, 'How now, Honest Jones, I am glad to seethee on this side the river Styx, prithee, hold up thy head, and don'tbe ashamed, thou art not the first Quaker by many thousands that hassworn allegiance to my government; besides, thou hast been one of mybest benefactors on earth, and now thou shalt see, like a gratefuldevil, I'll reward thee accordingly. ' 'I thank your excellence kindly, 'said I, 'pray, what is it your infernal protectorship will be pleasedto confer upon me?' To which his mighty ugliness replied, 'FriendNaylor, I know thou hast been very industrious to make many people foolsin the upper world, which has highly conduced to my interest. ' Thenturning to a pigmy aërial, who attended his commands as a runningfootman, 'Haste, _Numps_, ' says he, 'and fetch me the painted coat, 'which was no sooner brought, but by Lucifer's command I was shoved intoit, neck and shoulders, by half a dozen swarthy _valets de chambre_, andin a minute's time found myself tricked up in a rainbow-coloured coat, like a merry-Andrew. 'Now, friend, ' says the ill-favoured prince of allthe hell-born scoundrels, 'for the many fools you have made above, I nowordain you mine below;' so all the reward truly of my great services wasto be made Lucifer's jester, or fool in ordinary to the devil; a prettypost, thought I, for a man of my principles, that from a Quaker in theouter world I should be metamorphosed into a jack-adam in the lowerone. "

The occupation of people in the Nether world is described afterRabelais, thus:--"Cardinal Mazarin keeps a nine-holes; Mary of Medicisfoots stockings; and Katharine of Sweden cries 'Two bunches a pennycard-matches--two bunches a penny!' Henry the Fourth of France carriesa raree-show, and Mahomet sells mussels. Seneca keeps a fencing-school, and Julius Cæsar a two-penny ordinary. "

At the present day it is rather amusing to read, "A Comical View ofLondon and Westminster"--a weekly prophecy intended to ridicule theincreasing use of barometers and other scientific instruments forpredicting changes of weather. 

"Wednesday October 16th. Cloudy, foggy weather at Garraway's andJonathan's, and at most coffee-houses at about twelve. Crowds of peoplegather at the Exchange by one; disperse by three. Afternoon, noisy andbloody at her Majesty's bear-garden at _Hockly-in-the-Hole_. Night--sober with broken chaplains and others that have neither creditnor money. This week's transactions censured by the virtuosos at_Child's_ from morning till night. 

"Thursday 17th. Coffee and water-gruel to be had at the Rainbow andNando's at four. Hot furmity at Bride-bridge at seven. Justice to be hadat _Doctor's Commons_, when people can get it. A lecture at Pinner'shall at ten. Excellent pease-pottage and tripe in Baldwin's Gardens attwelve. A constable and two watchmen killed, or near being so in_Westminster_; whether by a lord or lord's footman, planets don'tdetermine. 

"Friday. Damsels whipped for their good nature at _Bridewell_ about ten. Several people put in fear of their lives by their god-fathers at the_Old Bailey_ at eleven. Great destruction of Herrings at one. Muchswearing at three among the horse-coursers at Smithfield; if the oathswere registered as well as the horses, good Lord, what a volume 'twouldmake! Several tails turned up at St. Paul's School, Merchant Taylors, &c. For their repetitioning. Night very drunk, as the two former. 

"Saturday 19th. Twenty butchers' wives in Leadenhall and Newgate marketsovertaken with sherry and sugar by eight in the morning. Shop-keeperswalk out at nine to count the trees in Moorfields, and avoid duns. People's houses cleansed in the afternoon, but their consciences wedon't know when. Evening pretty sober. 

"Sunday. Beggars take up their posts in Lincoln's Inn Fields and otherplaces by seven, that they may be able to praise God in capon and Marchbeer at night. Great jingling of bells all over the city from eight tonine. Parish clerks liquor their throats plentifully at eight, andchaunt out Hopkins most melodiously about ten. Sextons, men of greatauthority most part of the day, whip dogs out of the church for beingobstreperous. Great thumping and dusting of the cushion at Salter'sHall about eleven; one would almost think the man was in earnest he laysso furiously about him. A most refreshing smell of garlic inSpittlefield's and Soho at twelve. Country fellows staring at the twowooden men at St. Dunstan's from one to two, to see how notably theystrike the quarters. The great point of Predestination settled inRussell-court about three; and the people go home as wise as they came. Afternoon sleepy in most churches. Store of handkerchiefs stolen at St. Paul's. Night, not so sober as might be wished. .. . "

The following are some of the best specimens of Brown's poems--squibs onthe fashions and occurrences of the day--

 "The _emblem of the nation_, so grave and precise, On the _emblem of wisdom_ has laid an excise; Pray tell me, grave sparks, and your answer don't smother, Why one representative taxes another? The _Commons_ on _salt_ a new impost have laid To tax _wisdom_ too, they most humbly are pray'd; For tell me ye patrons of woollen and crape, Why the _type_ should be fined and the substance escape?"

A song in ridicule of a famous musician, who was caught serenading hismistress with his bass-viol on a very frosty night:--

 Look down, fair garreteer bestow One glance upon your swain, Who stands below in frost and snow. And shaking sings in pain. 

 Thaw with your eyes the frozen street, Or cool my hot desire, I burn within, altho' my feet Are numbed for want of fire. _Chorus_. 

 Thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum, Come, come, come, come, My dearest be not coy, For if you are (zit, zan, zounds) I Must without your favour die. 

The sentiment in the following is easily appreciated, but is there notalso some slight essence of humour?

 ON FLOWERS IN A LADY'S BOSOM. 

 Behold the promised land, where pleasures flow! See how the milk-white hills do gently rise, And beat the silken skies! Behold the valley spread with flowers below! The happy flowers, how they allure my sense! The fairer soil gives them the nobler hue Her breath perfumes them too: Rooted i' th' heart they seem to spring from thence, Tell, tell me why, thou fruitful virgin breast, Why should so good a soil lie unpossest?

Brown's humour partook of the coarseness of most of the writers of histimes, and scandalized the more religious and decent muse of Sir RichardBlackmore, who endeavoured to correct this general failing in his"Satire upon Wit. " This called forth many sarcastic replies, andcritiques on Blackmore's works; such as Brown's "Epigram occasioned bythe news that Sir R----d B----e's paraphrase upon Job was in thePress--"

 "When Job contending with the devil I saw It did my wonder, not my pity draw; For I concluded that without some trick, A saint at any time could match old Nick. Next came a fiercer fiend upon his back, I mean his spouse, stunning him with her clack, But still I could not pity him, as knowing A crab tree cudgel soon would send her going. But when the quack engaged with Job I spy'd, The Lord have mercy on poor Job I cry'd. What spouse and Satan did attempt in vain The quack will compass with his murdering pen, And on a dunghill leave poor Job again, With impious doggrel he'll pollute his theme, And make the saint against his will blaspheme. "

Upon the knighting of Sir R----d B----e. 

 "Be not puffed up with knighthood, friend of mine, A merry prince once knighted a Sir-loin, And if to make comparisons were safe An ox deserves it better then a calf. Thy pride and state I value not a rush Thou that art now Knight Phyz, wast once King Ush. "

Blackmore, who was successively physician to William III. And QueenAnne, had been once a schoolmaster. 

Tom Brown died at the early age of forty. His life was full ofmisfortunes, but we can scarcely say that he was unhappy, for nothingcould conquer his buoyant spirit. At one time he was actually in prison, for what was deemed a libellous attack, but we are told that he obtainedhis "enlargement" from it, upon his writing the following PindaricPetition to the Lords in Council. 

 "Should you order Tho' Brown To be whipped thro' the town For scurvy lampoon, Grave _Southern_ and _Crown_ Their pens wou'd lay down; Even D'Urfey himself, and such merry fellows That put their whole trust in tunes and trangdillioes May hang up their harps and themselves on the willows; For if poets are punished for libelling trash John Dryden, tho' sixty, may yet fear the lash. No pension, no praise, Much birch without bays, These are not right ways Our fancy to raise, To the writing of plays And prologues so witty That jirk at the city, And now and then hit Some spark in the pit, So hard and so pat Till he hides with his hat His monstrous cravat. The pulpit alone Can never preach down The fops of the town Then pardon Tho' Brown And let him write on; But if you had rather convert the poor sinner His foul writing mouth may be stopped with a dinner. Give him clothes to his back, some meat and some drink Then clap him close prisoner without pen and ink And your petitioner shall neither pray, write, or think. "

Unfortunately his pecuniary difficulties were not removed, butaccompanied him through life. What a strange mixture of gaiety, learningand destitution is brought before us, when on a clamorons dun vowing shewould not leave him until she had her money, he exclaimed in anextempore version of two lines of Martial--

 "Sextus, thou nothing ow'st, nothing I say! He something owes, that something has to pay. "

In an imitation of another epigram of Martial he gives an account of theunpromising position of his affairs:--

 "Without formal petition Thus stands my condition, I am closely blocked up in a garret, Where I scribble and smoke, And sadly invoke The powerful assistance of claret. Four children and a wife 'Tis hard on my life, Besides myself and a Muse To be all clothed and fed, Now the times are so dead, By my scribbling of doggrel and news; And what I shall do, I'm a wretch if I know So hard is the fate of a poet, I must either turn rogue, Or what's as bad--pedagogue, And so drudge like a thing that has no wit. "

How much are we indebted to the pecuniary embarrassments of poets forthe interest we take in them. Who could read sentiment written by a manfaring sumptuously every day? Towards the end of his life, Brown becameacquainted with Lord Dorset, and we read of his once dining with thatnobleman and finding a note for fifty pounds under his plate. Tom Brownseems to have regarded with great contempt his contemporary TomD'Urfey--best known as a composer of sonnets--words and music. Headdresses to him "upon his incomparable ballads, called by him PindaricOdes, " the following acrimonious lines--

 "Thou cur, half French half English breed, Thou mongrel of Parnassus, To think tall lines, run up to seed, Should ever tamely pass us. 

 "Thou write Pindaricks and be damned Write epigrams for cutlers, None with thy lyricks can be shammed But chambermaids and butlers. 

 "In t'other world expect dry blows; No tears can wash thy stains out, Horace will pluck thee by the nose And Pindar beat thy brains out. "

Such unworthy attacks are not unfrequently made by ill-natured literarymen. Brown was no doubt jealous of his rival, but Addison's generousheart formed a very different estimate of D'Urfey's talent. He says thatafter having "made the world merry he hopes they will make him easy" inhis pecuniary affairs, for that although "Tom" had written more Odesthan Horace, and four times as many Comedies as Terence, he was reducedto great difficulties by a set of men who had furnished him with theaccommodations of life, and would not, as we say, "be paid with a song. ""As my friend, " he continues, "after the manner of all the old lyrics, accompanies his works with his own voice, he has been the delight of themost polite companies and conversations from the beginning of KingCharles II. 's reign to our present times. Many an honest gentleman hasgot a reputation in his country by pretending to have been in companywith Tom D'Urfey. " "I myself remember King Charles II. Leaning on TomD'Urfey's shoulder more than once, and humming over a song with him. Itis certain that monarch was not a little supported by 'Joy to greatCæsar, ' which gave the Whigs such a blow as they were not able torecover that whole reign. My friend afterwards attacked Popery with thesame success--he has made use of Italian tunes and Sonatas for promotingthe Protestant interest, and turned a considerable part of the Pope'smusic against himself. "

Little need be added to this eloquent commendation, except that it waswritten to obtain patronage for a benefit in behalf of an aged poet andfriend. D'Urfey wrote through the reigns of Charles II. , James II. , William and Anne, into that of George I. His plays, which were thoughtattractive at the time, contained much that was gross, and weredeficient in humour and power. Thus, they were soon forgotten, andneither he nor his rival Brown were able to reach a point, which wouldgive them a permanent position in literature. 

The following description would have led us to expect something betterof him, at least in farcical talent[62]--

 "Mr. D'Urfey generally writes state-plays, and is wonderfully useful to the world in such representations. This method is the same that was used by the old Athenians, to laugh out of countenance or promote opinions among the people. My friend has therefore against this play is acted for his own benefit, made two dances which may be also of an universal benefit. In the first he has represented absolute power in the person of a tall man with a hat and feathers, who gives his first minister who stands just before him a huge kick; the minister gives the kick to the next before; and so to the end of the stage. In this moral and practical jest you are made to understand that there is in an absolute government no gratification, but giving the kick you receive from one above you to one below you. This is performed to a grave and melancholy air; but on a sudden the tune moves quicker, and the whole company fall into a circle and take hands; and then, at a certain sharp note, they move round and kick as kick can. This latter performance he makes to be the representation of a free state; where, if you all mind your steps, you may go round and round very jollily, with a motion pleasant to yourselves and them you dance with: nay, if you put yourselves out, at the worst you only kick and are kicked by friends and equals. "

But D'Urfey's short songs and poems were his most successfulproductions--sometimes he breathed martial strains in honour ofMarlborough's victories, sometimes formed adulatory addresses to membersof the Royal Family. His "Pills to purge Melancholy, " at timesapproached humour. The following is taken from the "Banquet of theGods, " and refers to Hermes visiting the Infernal regions--

 "Fierce Cerberus, who the gate did keep, First with a sop he lays asleep, Then forward goes to th' room of State, Where on a lofty throne of jet, The grizly King of Terrors sate, Discoursing with his Proserpine On things infernally divine. To him the winged Ambassador His message tells, then adds to her How much her mother Ceres mourns In Sicily, till she returns; That now she hoped (the long half-year Being ended) she would see her there, And that instead of shrieks and howls, The harmony of par-boiled souls, She'd now divert with tunes more gay, And go with her to see a play. "

D'Urfey often introduces fresh and pleasing glimpses of country life. Heis more happy in this direction than in his humour, which generallydrifted away into maudlin and indelicate love-making betweenpseudo-Roman Corydons and Phyllises. The following effusion is verycharacteristic of the times, --

 "One _April_ morn, when from the sea _Phoebus_ was just appearing! Damon and Celia young and gay, Long settled Love indearing; Met in a grove to vent their spleen, On parents unrelenting; He bred of _Tory_ race had been, She of the tribe _Dissenting_. 

 "Celia, whose eyes outshone the God, Newly the hills adorning, Told him mamma wou'd be stark mad, She missing prayers that morning; Damon, his arm around her waist, Swore tho' nought should 'em sunder, Shou'd my rough dad know how I'm blest, T'would make him roar like thunder. 

 "Great ones whom proud ambition blinds, By faction still support it, Or where vile money taints the mind, They for convenience court it; But mighty Love, that scorns to show, Party should raise his glory; Swears he'll exalt a vassal true, Let it be _Whig_ or _Tory_. "

The following is a song from "The Country Miss and her Furbelow. "

 "Celladon, when spring came on, Woo'd Sylvia in a grove, Both gay and young, and still he sung The sweet Delights of Love. Wedded joys in girls and boys, And pretty chat of this and that, The honey kiss, and charming bliss That crowns the marriage bed; He snatched her hand, she blushed and fanned And seemed as if afraid, 'Forbear!' she crys, 'youre fawning lyes, I've vowed to die a maid. '

 "Celladon at that began To talk of apes in hell, And what was worse, the odious curse Of growing old and stale. Loss of bloom, when wrinkles come, And offers kind when none will mind, The rosie joy, and sparkling eye Grown faded and decayed, At which, when known, she changed her tone, And to the shepherd said, 'Dear swain, give o'er, I'll think once more, Before I'll die a maid. '"

D'Urfey was a disciple of the "gentle art. " Addison says "I must notomit that my friend angles for a trout, the best of any man in England. Mayflies come in late this season, or I myself should have had one ofhis hooking. " We can thus understand his enthusiastic commendation offishing--

 "Of all the world's enjoyments, That ever valu'd were, There's none of our employments, With fishing can compare; Some preach, some write, Some swear, some fight, All golden lucre courting, But fishing still bears off the bell For profit or for sporting. 

 "_Chorus. _--Then who a jolly fisherman, a fisherman will be? His throat must wet, Just like his net, To keep out cold at sea. 

 "The country squire loves running A pack of well-mouthed hounds, Another fancies gunning For wild ducks in his grounds; This hunts, that fowls, This hawks, Dick bowls, No greater pleasure wishing, But Tom that tells what sport excels, Gives all the praise to fishing. Then who, &c. 

 "A good _Westphalia gammon_ Is counted dainty fare; But what is't to a salmon Just taken from the Ware; Wheat-ears and quailes, Cocks, snipes and rayles, Are prized while season's lasting, But all must stoop to crawfish soup, Or I've no skill in casting. Then who, &c. 

 "And tho' some envious wranglers, To jeer us will make bold, And laugh at patient anglers, Who stand so long i' th' cold; They wait on Miss, We wait on this, And think it easie labour; And if you know, fish profits too, Consult our _Holland_ neighbour. Then who, &c. "

D'Urfey was a favourite with Queen Anne, and many of his poems werewritten at Knole, Penshurst, and other seats of the nobility. 

Up to the time we have now reached, we have not had the opportunity ofenrolling the name of a lady among our humorists. Although in societyso many of the fair sparkle and overflow with quick and gracefulraillery, we find that when they come to impress their thoughts uponpaper they are invariably sentimental. Authors are often a contrast totheir writings, but no doubt the female mind is generally of a poeticalcomplexion. Thus, in the early part of the last century we meet withonly three lady humorists, Mrs. Manley, mostly noted for her scandalousstories: Mrs. Behn, whose humour was crude, chiefly that of roughharlequinade and gross immorality, and Mrs. Centlivre. Earlyopportunities of study were afforded to the last in a remarkable way. When flying from the anger of her stepmother, she met Anthony Hammond, then at Cambridge, and went to live with him at the University, disguised in boy's clothes. Remarkable for her beauty, she married, whenonly fifteen, a nephew of Sir Stephen Fox, and upon his death atsixteen, a Captain Carrol, who was killed in a duel. It was then partlyowing to pecuniary embarrassments that she went on the stage and wroteplays--the first of her dramas appearing in her twentieth year. So greatwas the prejudice then against lady writers, that at her publisher'ssuggestion her first production was anonymous. But those, who began byderiding her pretensions, ended by acknowledging her merit; she becamea great favourite and constant writer for the stage, and an intimatefriend of Farquhar and Steele. There is an absence of indelicacy in herplays, but not a little farcical humour, especially in the character of"Marplot" in "The Busybody, " and of rich "Mrs. Dowdy" with her vulgarityand admirers in "The Platonic Lady. " She often adopts the tone of theday in ridiculing learned ladies. In one place she speaks as if even atthat time the founding of a college for ladies was in contemplation--

 _Lady Reveller. _ Why in such haste, Cousin Valeria?

 _Valeria. _ Oh! dear Cousin, don't stop me; I shall lose the finest insect for dissection, a huge flesh fly, which Mr. Lovely sent me just now, and opening the box to try the experiment, away it flew. 

 _Lady. _ I am glad the poor fly escaped; will you never be weary of these whimsies?

 _Val. _ Whimsies! Natural Philosophy a whimsy! Oh! the unlearned world!

 _Lady. _ Ridiculous learning!

 _Mrs. Alpiew. _ Ridiculous indeed for women. Philosophy suits our sex as jack-boots would do. 

 _Val. _ Custom would bring them as much in fashion as furbelows, and practice would make us as valiant as e'er a hero of them all; the resolution is in the mind. Nothing can enslave that. 

 _Lady. _ My stars! This girl will be mad--that's certain. 

 _Val. _ Mad! So Nero banished philosophers from _Rome_, and the first discoverer of the _Antipodes_ was condemned for a heretic. 

 _Lady. _ In my conscience, Alpiew, this pretty creature's spoiled. Well, cousin, might I advise you should bestow your fortune in founding a college for the study of philosophy, where none but women should be admitted; and to immortalize your name, they should be called _Valerians_;--ha! ha! ha!

 _Val. _ What you make a jest of, I'd execute, were fortune in my power. 

Her notices of married life are interesting, as she had greatexperience, having taken for her third husband Mr. Centlivre, cook toQueen Anne. In "The Wonder, a Woman keeps a Secret, " we have thefollowing dialogue upon this important subject:

 _Col. Britton. _ 'Egad, I think I must e'en marry, and sacrifice my body for the good of my soul; wilt thou recommend me to a wife, then--one that is willing to exchange her moydores for English Liberty--ha friend?

 _Fred. _ She must be very handsome, I suppose?

 _Col. _ The handsomer the better, but be sure she has a nose. 

 _Fred. _ Ay! ay! and some gold. 

 _Col. _ Oh, very much gold. I shall never be able to swallow the matrimonial pill, if it be not well gilded. 

 _Fred. _ Puh, beauty will make it slide down nimbly. 

 _Col. _ At first, perhaps it may, but the second or third dose will choke me. I confess, Frederick, women are the prettiest playthings in nature; but gold, substantial gold gives 'em the air, the mien, the shape, the grace and beauty of a goddess. 

 _Fred. _ And has not gold the same divinity in their eyes, Colonel?

 _Col. _ Too often--money is the very god of marriage, the poets dress him in a saffron robe by which they figure out the golden Deity, and his lighted torch blazons those mighty charms, which encourage us to list under his banner. 

In "The Artifice" we have a matrimonial contention:

 _Lucy. _ If you two are one flesh, how come you to have different minds, pray, Sir?

 _Watchit. _ Because the mind has nothing to do with the flesh. 

 _Mrs. W. _ That's your mistake, Sir; the body is governed by the mind. So much philosophy I know. 

 _Wat. _ Yes, yes; I believe you understand natural philosophy very well, wife; I doubt not the flesh has got the better of the spirit in you. Look ye, madam! every man's wife is his vineyard; you are mine, therefore I wall you in. Ods budikins, ne'er a coxcomb in the kingdom shall plant as much as a primrose in my ground. 

 _Mrs. W. _ I am sure your management will produce nothing but thorns. 

 _Wat. _ Nay, every wife is a thorn in her husband's side. Your whole sex is a kind of sweet-briar, and he who meddles with it is sure to prick his fingers. 

 _Lucy. _ That is when you handle us too roughly. 

 _Mrs. W. _ You are a kind of rue: neither good for smell nor taste. 

 _Wat. _ But very wholesome, wife. 

 _Mrs. W. _ Ay, so they say of all bitters, yet I would not be obliged to feed on gentian and wormwood. 

Some subjects are peculiarly suitable for light female humour. In "TheBeau's Duel, or a Soldier for the Ladies, " we have the followingsoliloquy by Sir William Mode, a fop, as he stands in his night-gownlooking into his glass:

 This rising early is the most confounded thing on earth, nothing so destructive to the complexion. Blister me, how I shall look in the side box to-night, wretchedly upon my soul. [_looking in the glass all the while. _] Yet it adds something of a languishing air, not altogether unbecoming, and by candle light may do mischief; but I must stay at home to recover some colour, and that may be as well laid on too; so 'tis resolved I will go. Oh 'tis unspeakable pleasure to be in the side box, or bow'd to from the stage, and be distinguished by the beaux of quality, to have a lord fly into one's arms, and kiss one as amorously as a mistress. Then tell me aloud, that he dined with his Grace and that he and the ladies were so fond of me, they talked of nothing else. Then says I, "My lord, his Grace does me too much honour. " Then, my lord, "This play 'tis not worth seeing; we havn't been seen at t'other house to-night; and the ladies will be disappointed not to receive a bow from Sir William. " "He, he, he, " says I, "my lord, I wait upon your lordship. " "Then, " says my lord, "lead the way Sir William. " "O, pray my lord, I beg your lordship's pardon. " "Nay, Sir William. " "Pray my lord, " (_Enter La Riviere, Sir W's valet_). "Pray Sir William. " "Pray my lord. "

 (_As he says this several times La Riviere enters behind him, but as he designs to pass by him, is still prevented by his turning from one side to t'other, as he acts himself for the lord. _)

 _La Riv. _ Hey! What the devil is he conjuring and talking with invisible lords? He's in his airs, some pleasing imagination hurries him out of his senses. But I must to my cue. Hem! hem! Sir, dere be one two gentlemen below come to wait upon you dis morning, sal I show dem up?

 _Sir. W. _ No, my lord, by no means, I know better things--

 _La Riv. _ What then am I a lord? Egad I never knew my quality before. (_Aside. _)

 _Sir W. _ Pshaw! this blockhead has rous'd me from the prettiest entertainment in the world (_Aside_). Well, what would you, Sir?

 _La Riv. _ I voo'd tell you, Sir, dere be one two gentlemen wait upon you. 

 _Sir W. _ And let 'em wait till I have done. I had a thousand fine things to say on that occasion, but this rude fellow has frightened 'em all out of my head. (_Aside. _) Well, since my better diversion is over, show 'em up. 

In "The Wonder" we have an amusing scene between Lissardo, servant toFelix, and Flora, maid to Violante. The former had been very sweet uponthe latter--telling her that his "chaps watered for a kiss, " and that"he would revenge himself on her lips;" but a change comes over him onhis being presented by Violante with a ring to be worn for his master'ssake. 

 _Lissardo. _ I shall, Madam, (_puts on the ring. _) Methinks a diamond ring is a vast addition to the little finger of a gentleman. (_Admiring his hand. _)

 _Flora. _ That ring must be mine. Well, Lissardo, what haste you make to pay off arrears now? Look how the fellow stands!

 _Liss. _ Egad! methinks I have a very pretty hand--and very white--and the shape! Faith! I never minded it so much before! In my opinion it is a very fine shaped hand, and becomes a diamond ring as well as the first grandee's in Portugal. 

 _Flo. _ The man's transported! Is this your love? This your impatience?

 _Liss. _ (_Takes snuff. _) Now in my mind, I take snuff with a very jaunty air. Well, I am persuaded I want nothing but a coach and a title to make me a very fine gentleman. 

 (_Struts about. _)

 _Flo. _ Sweet Mr. Lissardo, (_curtseying_, ) if I may presume to speak to you, without affronting your little finger--

 _Liss. _ Do so, Madam, I ask your pardon. Is it to me or to the ring you direct your discourse, Madam?

 _Flo. _ Madam! Good lack! how much a diamond ring improves one!

 _Liss. _ Why, tho' I say it, I can carry myself as well as anybody. But what wert thou going to say, child?

 _Flo. _ Why, I was going to say, that I fancy you had best let me keep that ring; it will be a very pretty wedding-ring. 

 _Liss. _ Would it not? Humph! Ah! But--but--but--I believe I shan't marry yet a while. 

 _Flo. _ You shan't, you say; very well! I suppose you design that ring for Inis?

 _Liss. _ No, no, I never bribe an old acquaintance. Perhaps I might let it sparkle in the eyes of a stranger a little, till we come to a right understanding. But then, like all other mortal things, it would return from whence it came. 

 _Flo. _ Insolent! Is that your manner of dealing?

 _Liss. _ With all but thee--kiss me, you little rogue, you. 

 (_Hugging her. _)

 _Flo. _ Little rogue! Prithee, fellow, don't be so familiar, (_pushing him away_, ) if I mayn't keep your ring, I can keep my kisses. 

 _Liss. _ You can, you say! Spoke with the air of a chambermaid. 

 _Flo. _ Reply'd with the spirit of a serving-man. 

D'Urfey is said to have been the first, and Carey the last of those whoat this period united the professions of musician, dramatist and songwriter. The latter was the natural son of the Marquis of Halifax, whopresented the crown to William III. He wrote the popular song "Sally inour Alley, " and ridiculed Ambrose Philips in a poem called "NambyPamby. " Overcome either by embarrassed circumstances, or the envy ofrivals, he died by his own hand in 1743. He has much that is clevermingled with extravagant fancies. Most of his songs are amorous, thoughnever indelicate. Some are for drinking bouts. 

 "Come all ye jolly Bucchanals That love to tope good wine, Let's offer up a hogshead Unto our master's shrine, Come, let us drink and never shrink, For I'll tell you the reason why, It's a great sin to leave a house till we've drunk the cellar dry. In times of old I was a fool, I drank the water clear, But Bacchus took me from that rule, He thought 'twas too severe; He filled a bumper to the brim And bade me take a sup, But had it been a gallon pot, By Jove I'd tossed it up. And ever since that happy time, Good wine has been my cheer, Now nothing puts me in a swoon But water or small beer. Then let us tope about, my lads, And never flinch nor fly, But fill our skins brimfull of wine, And drain the bottles dry. "

Many of his plays were burlesque operas, introducing songs. In one ofthem the "Dragon of Wantley, " we have--

 "Zeno, Plato, Aristotle, All were lovers of the bottle; Poets, Painters, and Musicians, Churchmen, Lawyers, and Physicians; All admire a pretty lass, All require a cheerful glass, Every pleasure has its season, Love and drinking are no treason. "

He was fond of jocose love-ditties, such as:

 "Pigs shall not be So fond as we; We will out-coo the turtle-dove, Fondly toying, Still enjoying, Sporting sparrows we'll outlove. "

Among his successful farces is the well-known Chrononhotonthologoswritten to ridicule some bombastic tragedies of the day. Chrononhotonthologos is king of Queerummania, Bombardinian is hisgeneral, while his courtiers are Aldiborontiphoscophornio and RigdumFunnidos. The following gives a good specimen of his ballad style. 

 "O! London is a dainty place, A great and gallant city, For all the streets are paved with gold, And all the folks are witty. 

 "And there's your lords and ladies fine, That ride in coach-and-six, Who nothing drink but claret wine, And talk of politicks. 

 "And there's your beauxs with powdered clothes, Bedaubed from head to shin; Their pocket-holes adorned with gold, But not one sous within. "

CHAPTER X. 

Vanbrugh--Colley Cibber--Farquhar. 

Vanbrugh--a man of Dutch extraction as his name suggests--was one of thefew whom literature led, though indirectly, to fortune. He became firstknown as a playwriter, but also having studied architecture conceivedthe idea of combining his two arts by the construction of a grandtheatre on the site of the present Haymarket Opera House. The enterprisewas doomed to be one of the many failures from which that ill-starredspot has become remarkable, and Vanbrugh after vainly attempting tosupport his undertaking by the exertion of all his dramatic power, determined to quit literature altogether, and devoted himself to themore remunerative profession. In this he was successful--he builtBlenheim, Castle Howard, and half-a-dozen of the stately halls ofEngland. We may suppose that he acquired wealth, for he built severalhouses for himself, and in them seems to have exhibited his whimsicalfancy. One which he built near Whitehall was called by Swift "a thinglike a goose pie, " and he called that which he built for himself, nearGreenwich, "the mince pie. "

There is a considerable amount of rough humour in Vanbrugh, and someindelicacy, more like that of Aristophanes than of English writers. Wefind one gentleman calling another "Old Satan, " and fashionable ladiesindulging freely in oaths. A nobleman tells a lady, before her husband, that he is desperately in love with her, "strike me speechless;" towhich she replies by giving him a box on the ear, and her husband bydrawing his sword. Everything bespeaks a low and primitive state ofsociety; but we must also remember that while something strong wasrequired, it was not then thought objectionable that the scenes of thedrama should be very different from those of real life. 

The following are from the "Relapse, " the first play that made Vanbrughknown, and which we might therefore expect to be one of his mosthumorous comedies. Here we have a good caricature of the fops of theday. In the first, Lord Foppington in his fashionable twang, gives ushis views, and sketches his mode of life. 

 _Amanda. _ Well I must own I think books the best entertainment in the world. 

 _Lord F. _ I am so much of your ladyship's mind, madam, that I have a private gallery where I walk sometimes, which is furnished with nothing but books and looking glasses. Madam, I have gilded 'em so prettily, before G--, it is the most entertaining thing in the world to walk and look upon 'em. 

 _Amanda. _ Nay, I love a neat library too, but 'tis I think the inside of a book should recommend it most to us. 

 _Lord F. _ That, I must confess, I am not altogether so fond of. For to my mind the inside of a book is to entertain oneself with the forced product of another man's brain. Now, I think a man of quality and breeding may be much better diverted with the natural sprouts of his own. But to say the truth, madam, let a man love reading never so well, when once he comes to know this town, he finds so many better ways of passing away the four-and-twenty hours that 'twere ten thousand pities he should consume his time in that. For example, madam, my life, my life, madam, is a perpetual stream of pleasure that glides through such a variety of entertainments, I believe the wisest of our ancestors never had the least conception of any of 'em. I rise, madam, about ten o'clock. I don't rise sooner because it is the worst thing in the world for the complexion, not that I pretend to be a beau, but a man must endeavour to look wholesome, lest he make so nauseous a figure in the side box, the ladies should be compelled to turn their eyes upon the play. So at ten o'clock I say I rise. Now, if I find it a good day I resolve to take a turn in the park, and see the fine women; so huddle on my clothes and get dressed by one. If it be nasty weather I take a turn in the chocolate house, where as you walk, madam, you have the prettiest prospect in the world; you have looking glasses all round you. But I'm afraid I tire the company. 

 _Berinthia. _ Not at all; pray go on. 

 _Lord F. _ Why then, ladies, from thence I go to dinner at Lacket's, where you are so nicely and delicately served that, stab my vitals! they shall compose you a dish no bigger than a saucer, shall come to fifty shillings. Between eating my dinner (and washing my mouth, ladies) I spend my time till I go to the play, when till nine o'clock I entertain myself with looking upon the company; and usually dispose of one hour more in leading them out. So there's twelve of the four-and-twenty pretty well over. The other twelve, madam, are disposed of in two articles, in the first four I toast myself drunk, and t'other eight I sleep myself sober again. Thus, ladies, you see my life is an eternal round O of delight. 

Lord Foppington's interview with his Court artists is well described--

 _Tom Fashion. _ There's that fop now, has not by nature wherewithal to move a cook-maid, and by that time these fellows have done with him, egad he shall melt down a countess! But now for my reception; I'll engage it shall be as cold a one as a courtier's to his friend, who comes to put him in mind of his promise. 

 _Lord F. _ (_to his tailor. _) Death and eternal tortures! Sir, I say the packet's too high by a foot. 

 _Tailor. _ My lord, if it had been an inch lower it would not have held your lordship's packet-handkerchief. 

 _Lord F. _ Rat my packet-handkerchief! have not I a page to carry it? You may make him a packet up to his chin a purpose for it; but I will not have mine come so near my face. 

 _Tailor. _ 'Tis not for me to dispute your lordship's fancy. 

 _Lord F. _ Look you, Sir, I shall never be reconciled to this nauseous packet, therefore pray get me another suit with all manner of expedition, for this is my eternal salvation. Mrs. Calico, are not you of my mind?

 _Mrs. Cal. _ O, directly, my lord! It can never be too low. 

 _Lord F. _ You are positively in the right on't, for the packet becomes no part of the body but the knee. 

 (_Exit tailor. _)

 _Mrs. Cal. _ I hope your lordship is pleased with your steenkirk. 

 _Lord F. _ In love with it, stap my vitals! bring your bill, you shall be paid to-morrow. 

 _Mrs. C. _ I humbly thank your honour. (_Exit. _)

 _Lord F. _ Hark thee, shoemaker! these shoes an't ugly but they don't fit me. 

 _Shoemaker. _ My lord, methinks they fit you very well. 

 _Lord F. _ They hurt me just below the instep. 

 _Shoe. _ (_feeling his foot_) My lord, they don't hurt you there. 

 _Lord F. _ I tell thee they pinch me execrably. 

 _Shoe. _ My lord, if they pinch you I'll be bound to be hanged, that's all. 

 _Lord F. _ Why wilt thou undertake to persuade me that I cannot feel?

 _Shoe. _ Your lordship may please to feel what you think fit; but the shoe does not hurt you. I think I understand my trade. 

 _Lord F. _ Now by all that's great and powerful thou art an incomprehensible coxcomb! but thou makest good shoes and so I'll bear with thee. 

Tom Fashion personates his brother, Lord Foppington, and goes down tothe country seat of Sir Tunbelly Clumpsey, in hope of marrying his richdaughter. The old Squire at first turns out to meet him with guns andpitchforks, but changes to the utmost servility on hearing that he is alord. It is now Tom's object to have the marriage ceremony performedbefore he is discovered. 

 _Fashion. _ Your father, I suppose you know, has resolved to make me happy in being your husband, and I hope I may depend upon your consent to perform what he desires. 

 _Miss Hoyden. _ Sir, I never disobey my father in anything but eating of green gooseberries. 

 _Fash. _ So good a daughter must needs be an admirable wife; I am therefore impatient till you are mine, and hope you will so far consider the violence of my love as not to defer my happiness so long as your father designs it. 

 _Miss H. _ Pray, my lord, how long is that?

 _Fash. _ Madam, a thousand years--a whole week. 

 _Miss H. _ A week! why I shall be an old woman by that time. 

 _Fash. _ And I an old man. 

 _Miss H. _ Why I thought it was to-morrow morning as soon as I was up, I am sure nurse told me so. 

 _Fash. _ And it shall be to-morrow morning still, if you'll consent. 

 _Miss H. _ If I'll consent! Why I thought I was to obey you as my husband. 

 _Fash. _ That's when we're married, till then I am to obey you. 

 _Miss H. _ Why then if we are to take it by turns it's the same thing. I'll obey you now, and when we are married you shall obey me. 

 _Fash. _ With all my heart; but I doubt we must get nurse on our side, or we shall hardly prevail with the chaplain. 

 _Miss H. _ O Lord, I can tell you a way how to persuade her to anything. 

 _Fash. _ How's that?

 _Miss H. _ Why tell her she's a wholesome comely woman, and give her half-a-crown. 

 _Fash. _ Nay, if that will do, she shall have half a score of them. 

 _Miss H. _ O gemini! for half that she'd marry you herself. I'll run and call her. 

 _Fash. _ So matters go swimmingly. This is a rare girl i' faith. I shall have a fine time on't with her in London, I'm much mistaken if she don't prove a March hare all the year round. What a scampering chase will she on't, when she finds the whole kennel of beaux at her tail! hey to the park, and the play, and the church and the devil; she'll show them sport, I'll warrant 'em. But no matter, she brings me an estate that will afford me a separate maintenance. 

The following from "The Provoked Husband, " gives a good specimen ofsocial hypocrisy. 

 _Servant. _ Madam, here's my Lady Fanciful to wait upon your ladyship. 

 _Lady Brute. _ Shield me, kind heaven! what an inundation of impertinence is here coming upon us!

At the end of this unwelcome visit, we have the following hit at theceremonious politeness then fashionable. 

 _Lady B. _ What going already, madam. 

 _Lady Fan. _ I must beg you excuse me this once, for really I have eighteen visits to return this afternoon. So you see I am importuned by the women as well as by the men. 

 _Bel. _ (_aside_). And she's quits with 'em both. 

 _Lady F. _ Nay, you shan't go one step out of the room. 

 _Lady B. _ Indeed, I'll wait upon you down. 

 _Lady F. _ No sweet, Lady Brute, you know I swoon at ceremony. 

 _Lady B. _ Pray give me leave. 

 _Lady F. _ You know I wont. 

 _Lady B. _ Indeed I must. 

 _Lady F. _ Indeed you shan't. 

 _Lady B. _ Indeed I will. 

 _Lady F. _ Indeed you shan't. 

 _Lady B. _ Indeed I will. 

 _Lady F. _ Indeed you shan't, indeed, indeed, indeed you shan't. (_Exit running. _)

The aversions and disputes of husbands and wives furnish the subject ofsome of his humour. Sir John Brute says:--

 "Sure if women had been ready created, the devil instead of being kicked down in hell had been married. "

 _Lady Brute. _ Are you afraid of being in love, Sir?

 _Heartfree. _ I should if there were any danger of it. 

 _Lady B. _ Pray, why so?

 _Heart. _ Because I always had an aversion to being used like a dog. 

 _Belinda. _ Why truly, men in love are seldom used much better. 

 _Lady B. _ But were you never in love, Sir?

 _Heart. _ No, I thank heaven, madam. 

 _Bel. _ Pray, where got you your learning then?

 _Heart. _ From other people's expense. 

 _Bel. _ That's being a spunger, Sir, which is scarce honest. If you'd buy some experience with your own money, as 'twould be fairlier got, so 'twould stick longer by you. 

 * * * * *

 _Berinthia. _ Ah, Amanda, it's a delicious thing to be a young widow!

 _Aman. _ You'll hardly make me think so. 

 _Ber. _ Phu! because you are in love with your husband; but that is not every woman's case. 

 _Aman. _ I hope 'twas yours at least. 

 _Ber. _ Mine, say ye? Now I have a great mind to tell you a lie, but I should do it so awkwardly you'd find me out. 

 _Aman. _ Then e'en speak the truth. 

 _Ber. _ Shall I? Then after all, I did love him, Amanda, as a man does penance. 

 _Aman. _ Why did you not refuse to marry him, then?

 _Ber. _ Because my mother would have whipped me. 

 _Aman. _ How did you live together?

 _Ber. _ Like man and wife--asunder. He loved the country, I the town. He hawks and hounds, I coaches and equipage. He eating and drinking, I carding and playing. He the sound of a horn, I the squeak of a fiddle. Whenever we met we gave one another the spleen. 

 _Aman. _ But tell me one thing truly and sincerely. 

 _Ber. _ What's that?

 _Aman. _ Notwithstanding all these jars, did not his death at last extremely trouble you?

 _Ber. _ O, yes. Not that my present pangs were so very violent, but the after pangs were intolerable. I was forced to wear a beastly widow's band a twelvemonth for 't. 

In the "Journey to London, " written at the end of Vanbrugh's life, andnot finished, there is a very amusing account of the manner in which acountry squire and family travelled up to London in the seventeenthcentury. 

 _James. _ They have added two cart-horses to the four old mares, because my lady will have it said she came to town in her coach-and-six; and ha! ha! heavy George, the ploughman, rides postilion!

 _Uncle Richard. _ Very well; the journey begins as it should do--James!

 _James. _ Sir!

 _Uncle R. _ Dost know whether they bring all the children with them?

 _James. _ Only Squire Humphry and Miss Betty, Sir; the other six are put to board at half-a-crown a week a head with Joan Growse, at Smoke-dunghill Farm. 

 _Uncle R. _ The Lord have mercy upon all good folks! What work will these people make! Dost know when they'll be here?

 _James. _ John says, Sir, they'd have been here last night, but that the old wheezy-belly horse tired, and the two fore-wheels came crash down at once in Waggon-rut Lane. Sir, they were cruelly loaden, as I understand. My lady herself, he says, laid on four mail trunks, besides the great deal-box, which fat Tom sat upon behind. 

 _Uncle R. _ So. 

 _James. _ Then within the coach there was Sir Francis, my lady, the great fat lap-dog, Squire Humphry, Miss Betty, my lady's maid, Mrs. Handy, and Doll Tripe, the cook--but she puked with sitting backward, so they mounted her into the coach-box. 

 _Uncle R. _ Very well. 

 _James. _ Then, Sir, for fear of a famine before they should get to the baiting-place, there was such baskets of plum-cake, Dutch gingerbread, Cheshire cheese, Naples biscuits, maccaroons, neats' tongues, and cold boiled beef; and in case of sickness, such bottles of usquebaugh, black-cherry brandy, cinnamon water, sack, tent, and strong beer, as made the old coach crack again. 

 _Uncle R. _ Well said!

 _James. _ And for defence of this good cheer, and my lady's little pearl necklace, there was the family basket-hilt sword, the great Turkish cimiter, the old blunder-buss, a good bag of bullets, and a great horn of gunpowder. 

 _Uncle R. _ Admirable!

Vanbrugh's friend, Colley Cibber, was also of foreign origin. His fatherwas a native of Holstein, and coming over to England before theRestoration, is known as having executed the two figures of lunatics, for the gates of Bethlehem Hospital. Colley commenced life as an actorand playwriter, and Vanbrugh was so pleased with his "Love's Last Shift, or the Fool of Fashion, " that he wrote an improved version of it in "TheRelapse. " Thus Sir Novelty Fashion was developed into Lord Foppington, and Vanbrugh, who patronized Cibber, employed him to act the character. He was an exception to the rule that a good playwriter is not a goodperformer. In Cibber, we especially mark the Spanish element, which thentinged the drama, and although somewhat prosy and sententious, he isfertile and entertaining in his love intrigues. Of real humour, he seemsto have no gift--some of his best attempts referring to such commonfailures as sometimes occur at hotels. We have in "She wou'd, and shewou'd not, "

 _Host. _ Did you call, gentlemen?

 _Trapparti. _ Yes, and bawl too, Sir. Here the gentlemen are almost famished, and nobody comes near 'em. What have you in the house now that will be ready presently?

 _Host. _ You may have what you please, Sir. 

 _Hypolita. _ Can you get us a partridge?

 _Host. _ We have no partridges; but we'll get you what you please in a moment. We have a very good neck of mutton, Sir, if you please, it shall be clapt down in a moment. 

 _Hyp. _ Have you any pigeons or chickens?

 _Host. _ Truly, Sir, we have no fowl in the house at present; if you please, you may have anything else in a moment. 

 _Hyp. _ Then, prithee, get us some young rabbits. 

 _Host. _ Upon my word, Sir, rabbits are so scarce, they are not to be had for money. 

 _Trap. _ Have you any fish?

 _Host. _ Fish! Sir; I dressed yesterday the finest dish that ever came upon a table; I am sorry we have none, Sir; but, if you please, you may have anything else in a moment. 

 _Trap. _ Hast thou nothing but Anything else in the house?

 _Host. _ Very good mutton, Sir. 

 _Hyp. _ Prithee, get us a breast, then. 

 _Host. _ Breast! Don't you love the neck, Sir?

 _Hyp. _ Ha' ye nothing in the house but the neck?

 _Host. _ Really, Sir, we don't use to be so unprovided, but at present we have nothing else left. 

 _Trap. _ Faith, Sir, I don't know but a Nothing else may be very good meat, when Anything else is not to be had. 

Sometimes there is a little smartness in the dialogue, and in the"Careless Husband, " Lord Foppington uses such strange expletives as "Sunburn me, " "Stop my breath, " "Set my blood. " But the greater part of anyamusement that there is, depends, as in the Roman Comedy, upon thetricks of low-minded mercenary servants. 

Although neither of the two last-named writers was English by descent, they were both so by adoption, and the same may be said of the nextauthor, Farquhar, who was born at Londonderry in 1678, but whose Irishcharacters want the charm of the pure national comicality. He was theson of a clergyman who sent him to the University, but his taste beingaverse to the prescribed course of study, he left it, and became anactor. Want of voice soon excluded him from the stage, and he enteredthe army--a profession which we might conclude, from the experiences ofWycherley and Vanbrugh, was somewhat favourable for the cultivation ofdramatic talent. The constant companionship of men of wild and fancifuldispositions, the leisure for observing their talents and peculiarities, and the perpetual demand for the exercise of light repartee, would alltend to furnish effective materials for the stage. Farquhar soonmarried, and his poverty, with an increasing family, led to hisproducing a play nearly every year from 1703 to 1707. Finally he soldout, and was in deep distress. Speaking of his condition with hisaccustomed gaiety, he says:--

 "I have very little estate, but what is under the circumference of my hat, and should I by perchance come to lose my head, I should not be worth a groat. "

He thus sketches his mental peculiarities:--

 "As to my mind, which in most men wears as many changes as their body, so in me 'tis generally drest like my person, in black. Melancholy is its every-day apparel; and it has hitherto found few holidays to make it change its clothes. In short, my constitution is very splenetic and yet very amorous, both which I endeavour to hide lest the former should offend others, and that the latter might incommode myself; and my reason is so vigilant in restraining these two failings, that I am taken for an easy-natured man with my own sex, and an ill-natured clown by yours. "

Farquhar was very fond of jesting about his own misfortunes, and perhapsthe following from "Love in a Bottle, " exhibits a scene in which he hadbeen himself an actor in real life. 

 _Widow Bullfinch. _ Mr. Lyric, what do you mean by all this? Here you have lodged two years in my house, promised me eighteen-pence a week for your lodging, and I have never received eighteen farthings, not the value of _that_, Mr. Lyric, (_snaps her fingers. _) You always put me off with telling me of your play, your play! Sir, you shall play no more with me: I'm in earnest. 

 _Lyric. _ There's more trouble in a play than you imagine, Madam. 

 _Bull. _ There's more trouble with a lodger than you think, Mr. Lyric. 

 _Lyric. _ First there's the decorum of time. 

 _Bull. _ Which you never observe, for you keep the worst hours of any lodger in town. 

 _Lyric. _ Then there's the exactness of characters. 

 _Bull. _ And you have the most scandalous one I ever heard. .. . 

 _Lyric. _ (_Aside_) Was ever poor rogue so ridden. If ever the Muses had a horse, I am he. (_Aloud_) Faith! Madam, poor Pegasus is jaded. 

 _Bull. _ Come, come, Sir; he shan't slip his neck out of collar for all that. Money I will have, and money I must have. 

The above is taken from Farquhar's first play, and we generally findricher humour in the first attempts of genius than in their later andmore elaborate productions. Widow Bullfinch says that "Champagne is afine liquor, which all your beaux drink to make em' witty. "

 _Mockmode. _ Witty! oh by the universe I must be witty! I'll drink nothing else. I never was witty in all my life. I love jokes dearly. Here, Club, bring us a bottle of what d'ye call it--the witty liquor. 

 _Bull. _ But I thought that all you that were bred at the University would be wits naturally?

 _Mock. _ The quite contrary, Madam, there's no such thing there. We dare not have wit there for fear of being counted rakes. Your solid philosophy is all read there, which is clear another thing. But now I will be a wit, by the universe. .. . Is that the witty liquor? Come fill the glasses. Now that I have found my mistress, I must next find my wits. 

 _Club. _ So you had need, master, for those that find a mistress are generally out of their wits. (_Gives him a glass. _)

 _Mock. _ Come, fill for yourself. (_They jingle and drink. _) But where's the wit now, Club? Have you found it?

 _Club. _ Egad! master, I think 'tis a very good jest. 

 _Mock. _ What?

 _Club. _ What? why drinking--you'll find, master, that this same gentleman in the straw doublet, this same will-i'-th'-wisp is a wit at the bottom. (_Fills. _) Here, here, master; how it puns and quibbles in the glass!

 _Mock. _ By the universe, now I have it!--the wit lies in the jingling. All wit consists most in jingling; hear how the glasses rhyme to one another. 

Again:--

 _Mock. _ Could I but dance well, push well, [63] play upon the flute, and swear the most modish oaths, I would set up for quality with e'er a young nobleman of 'em all. Pray what are the most fashionable oaths in town? Zoons, I take it, is a very becoming one. 

 _Rigadoon. _ (_a dancing-master. _) Zoons is only used by the disbanded officers and bullies, but zauns is the beaux pronunciation. 

 _Mock. _ Zauns!

 _Rig. _ Yes, Sir; we swear as we dance; smooth and with a cadence--Zauns! 'Tis harmonious, and pleases the ladies, because it is soft. Zauns, Madam, is the only compliment our great beaux pass on a lady. 

 _Mock. _ But suppose a lady speaks to me; what must I say?

 _Rig. _ Nothing, Sir; you must take snuff grin, and make her a humble cringe--thus: (_Bows foppishly and takes snuff; Mockmode imitates him awkwardly, and taking snuff, sneezes. _) O Lord, Sir! you must never sneeze; 'tis as unbecoming after orangery as grace after meat. 

 _Mock. _ I thought people took it to clear the brain. 

 _Rig. _ The beaux have no brains at all, Sir; their skull is a perfect snuff-box; and I heard a physician swear, who opened one of 'em, that the three divisions of his head were filled with orangery, bergamot, and plain Spanish. 

 _Mock. _ Zauns! I must sneeze, (_sneezes. _) Bless me!

 _Rig. _ Oh, fy! Mr. Mockmode! what a rustical expression that is! 'Bless me!' You should upon all such occasions cry, Dem me! You would be as nauseous to the ladies as one of the old patriarchs, if you used that obsolete expression. 

Sir Harry Wildair gives a good sketch of a lady's waiting-woman of thetime. 

 _Colonel Standard. _ Here, here, Mrs. Parly; whither so fast?

 _Parly. _ Oh Lord! my master! Sir, I was running to Mademoiselle Furbelow, the French milliner, for a new burgundy for my lady's head. 

 _Col. S. _ No, child; you're employed about an old-fashioned garniture for your master's head, if I mistake not your errand. 

 _Parly. _ Oh, Sir! there's the prettiest fashion lately come over! so airy, so French, and all that. The pinners are double ruffled with twelve plaits of a side, and open all from the face; the hair is frizzled all up round the head, and stands as stiff as a bodkin. Then the favourites hang loose on the temples, with a languishing lock in the middle. Then the caul is extremely wide, and over all is a coronet raised very high, and all the lappets behind. 

This lady on being questioned, says that her wages are ten pounds ayear, but she makes two hundred a year of her mistress's old clothes. 

But Farquhar is best known as the author of the "Beaux Stratagem. "Though not so full of humour, as "Love in a Bottle, " it had more actionand bolder sensational incidents. The play proved a great success, butone which will always have sad associations. It came too late. Farquhardied in destitution, while the plaudits resounded in his ears. 

The following are specimens from his last play:--

(Aimwell (a gentleman of broken fortune looking for a rich wife) goes tochurch in the country to further his designs. )

 _Aimwell. _ The appearance of a stranger in a country church draws as many gazers as a blazing star; no sooner he comes into the cathedral, but a train of whispers runs buzzing round the congregation in a moment: _Who is he?_ _Whence comes he?_ _Do you know him?_ Then I, Sir, tips me the verger with half-a-crown; he pockets the simony, and inducts me into the best pew in the church; I pull out my snuff-box, turn myself round, bow to the bishop, or the dean, if he be the commanding officer, single out a beauty, rivet both my eyes to hers, set my nose a bleeding by the strength of imagination, and show the whole church my concern--by my endeavouring to hide it; after the sermon the whole town gives me to her for a lover, and by persuading the lady that I am a-dying for her, the tables are turned, and she in good earnest falls in love with me. 

 _Archer. _ There's nothing in this, Tom, without a precedent; but instead of rivetting your eyes to a beauty, try to fix 'em upon a fortune; that's our business at present. 

 _Aim. _ Psha! no woman can be a beauty without a fortune. Let me alone, for I am a marksman. 

Talking afterwards of Dorinda, whom he observes in church, he says, _Aimwell. _ Call me Oroondates, Cesario, Amadis, all that romance can in a lover paint, and then I'll answer:--O, Archer! I read her thousands in her looks, she looked like Ceres in her harvest; corn, wine and oil, milk and honey, gardens, groves, and purling streams played in her plenteous face. 

CHAPTER XI. 

Congreve--Lord Dorset. 

The birthplace of Congreve is uncertain, but he was born about 1671, andwas educated in Kilkenny and Dublin. He is an instance of that union ofIrish versatility with English reflection, which has produced the mostcelebrated wits. We also mark in him a considerable improvement indelicacy. "The Old Batchelor" was his first play, the success of whichwas so great that Lord Halifax made him one of the commissioners forlicensing hackney-coaches; he afterwards gave him a place in the PipeOffice and Custom House. 

Belmour begins very suitably by saying--

 "Come come, leave business to idlers, and wisdom to fools; they have need of 'em. Wit be my faculty, and pleasure my occupation; and let Father Time shake his glass. "

Speaking of Belinda, he says--

 "In my conscience I believe the baggage loves me, for she never speaks well of me herself, nor suffers anybody else to rail at me. "

Heartwell, an old bachelor, says--

 "Women's asses bear great burdens; are forced to undergo dressing, dancing, singing, sighing, whining, rhyming, flattery, lying, grinning, cringing, and the drudgery of loving to boot. .. . Every man plays the fool once in his life, but to marry is to play the fool all one's life long. "

In Belinda we have a specimen of one of the fast young ladies of theperiod, who certainly seems to have used strong language. She cries, Oh, that most inhuman, barbarous, hackney-coach! I am jolted to a jelly, am I not horridly touz'd?

She chides Belmour, Prithee hold thy tongue! Lord! he has so pestered me with flowers and stuff, I think I shan't endure the sight of a fire for a twelvemonth. 

 _Belmour. _ Yet all can't melt that cruel frozen heart. 

 _Bel. _ O, gad! I hate your hideous fancy--you said that once before--if you must talk impertinently, for Heaven's sake let it be with variety; don't come always like the devil wrapped in flames. I'll not hear a sentence more that begins with, "I burn, " or an "I beseech you, Madam. "

At last she exclaims, "O! my conscience! I could find in my heart to marry thee, purely to be rid of thee. "

There is frequently a conflict of wit. Sharper tells Sir Joseph Willotthat he lost many pounds, when he was defending him in a scuffle thenight before. He hopes he will repay him. 

 Money is but dirt, Sir Joseph; mere dirt, Sir Joseph. 

 _Sir Joseph. _ But I profess 'tis a dirt I have washed my hands of at present. 

Lord Froth in "The Double Dealer" says, There is nothing more unbecoming in a man of gravity than to laugh, to be pleased with what pleases the crowd. When I laugh, I always laugh alone. 

 _Brisk. _ I suppose that's because you laugh at your own jests. 

Sir Paul Plyant in great wroth expresses himself as follows:

The subjects of Congreve's Comedies would often be thought objectionableat the present day. The humour is not in the plot, but in the generaldialogue. In "Love for Love, " Ben Legend, a sailor, speaking of lawyers, says--

 Lawyer, I believe there's many a cranny and leak unstopt in your conscience. If so be that one had a pump to your bosom, I believe we should discern a foul hold. They say a witch will sail in a sieve, but I believe the devil would not venture aboard your conscience. 

The last play he wrote, which failed, was deficient in wit, but hadplenty of inebriety in it. After singing a drinking song, Sir Wilfulsays in "The Way of the World. "

 The sun's a good pimple, an honest soaker, he has a cellar at your Antipodes. If I travel, Aunt, I touch at your Antipodes--your Antipodes are a good rascally sort of topsy-turvy fellows. If I had a bumper I'd stand on my head, and drink a health to them. 

 * * * * *

 _Scandal. _ Yes, mine (_pictures_) are not in black and white, and yet there are some set out in their true colours, both men and women. I can show you pride, folly, affectation, wantonness, inconstancy, covetousness, dissimulation, malice and ignorance all in one piece. Then I can show your lying, foppery, vanity, cowardice, bragging, incontinence, and ugliness in another piece, and yet one of them is a celebrated beauty, and t'other a professed beau. I have paintings, too, some pleasant enough. 

 _Mrs. Frail. _ Come, let's hear 'em. 

 _Scan. _ Why, I have a beau in a bagnio cupping for a complexion, and sweating for a shape. 

 _Mrs. F. _ So----

 _Scan. _ Then I have a lady burning brandy in a cellar with a hackney coachman. 

 _Mrs. F. _ Oh! well, but that story is not true. 

 _Scan. _ I have some hieroglyphics, too; I have a lawyer with a hundred hands, two heads, and but one face; a divine with two faces and one head; and I have a soldier with his brains in his belly, and his heart where his head should be. 

It has been said that Congreve retired on the appearance of Mrs. Centlivre, but so high was the opinion entertained of his genius that hewas buried in Westminster Abbey, and his pall was supported by noblemen. Pope was one of his greatest admirers, and dedicated his translation ofHomer to him. 

Dryden writes on Congreve. 

 "In easy dialogue is Fletcher's praise, He moved the mind, but had not power to raise, Great Jonson did by strength of judgment please, Yet doubling Fletcher's force, he wants his ease. In differing talents both adorned their age, One for the study, t'other for the stage, But both to Congreve justly shall submit, One matched in judgment, both over-matched in wit. "

Macaulay says "the wit of Congreve far outshines that of every comicwriter, except Sheridan, who has arisen within the last two centuries. "

Lord Dorset of whom we have above spoken deserves some passing notice. He was high in the favour of Charles II. , James, and William; and wasone of the most accomplished of the courtiers of that day, who, notwithwstanding their dissipation, were more or less scholars, andwrote poetry. What was better, he was a munificent supporter of realliterary genius, and patronized Dryden, and to judge by theircommendations was not neglectful of Congreve and Pope. 

Most of his poems are in the pastoral strain, but do not show any greattalent. Two or three of them have some humour--

 "Dorinda's sparkling wit and eyes United, cast too fierce a light, Which blazes high, but quickly dies, Pains not the heart, but hurts the sight;

 * * * * *

 "Love is a calmer, gentler joy, Smooth are his looks, and soft his pace; Her cupid is a blackguard boy That runs his link right in your face. "

Lord Dorset was at the battle of Opdam when the Dutch Admiral's fleetwas destroyed in 1665. The night before the engagement he wrote the wellknown epistle

 "To all you ladies now on land, We men at sea indite, And first would have you understand How hard it is to write; The Muses now and Neptune too, We must implore to write to you. With a fa la la la la. 

 "For though the Muses should prove kind, And fill our empty brain, Yet if rough Neptune raise the wind, To wave the azure main, Our paper, pen and ink, and we, Roll up and down our ships at sea. With a fa, la, &c. 

 "Should foggy Opdam chance to throw Our sad and dismal story, The Dutch would scorn so weak a foe, And quit their fort at Goree; For what resistance can they find From men who've left their hearts behind? With a fa, la, &c. 

 "In justice you cannot refuse To think of our distress, When we for hope of honour lose Our certain happiness; All those designs are but to prove Ourselves more worthy of your love. With a fa, la, &c. 

 "And now we've told you all our loves, And likewise all our fears, In hopes this declaration moves, Some pity from your tears; Let's hear of no inconstancy, We have too much of that at sea. With a fa la la la la. "

We can easily understand how the above lines were suggested, for inthose times the same officers served both in army and navy, and many ofthe young sparks taken from the gaieties of London had not yet acquiredtheir sea legs. Wycherley is said to have been present at some of theengagements with the Dutch. 

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 

 * * * * *

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Of course this will scarcely apply in those cases in which, byabstraction, we overlook the creative action of the mind, and regard itshumorous productions as ludicrous. Nor does it hold good where from longexercise of ingenuity a habit has been formed and amusing fancies springup, as it were naturally, and so involuntarily that, for the moment, wesee them only as ludicrous. This view changes almost instantaneously, and beneath it we often find the best humour. It may be said that suchcases should be placed entirely under the head of humour, but can wemaintain that a man is unaware when he is humorous? The most tellingeffects are produced by the ludicrous, and where the creative action ofthe mind is scarcely discernible. Efforts to be humorous are seldomcrowned with success; we require something that appears to be real ororiginal, either as a close rendering of actual occurrences, or aspontaneous efflorescence of genius. Among the latter class we mayreckon some of our most exquisite and permanent sayings. 

[2] A story is told of a Mr. Crispe, a merchant of London, who althoughdeaf, when Sir Alexander Cary made a speech before his execution, followed the motion of his lips so as to be able to relate it to hisfriends. 

[3] Mrs. Barbauld had such a perpetual smile that one of her friendssaid it made her jaws ache to look at her. 

[4] St. Paul, who was brought up at the feet of Gamaliel, gives adifferent account in Rom. Iv. 19. See also Heb. Xi. 11. 

[5] Soame Jenyns strangely imagined that a portion of the happiness ofSeraphim and of just men made perfect would be derived from an exquisiteperception of the ludicrous; while Addison mentions that a learned monklaid it down as a doctrine that laughter was the effect of original sin, and that Adam could not laugh before the fall. Some of the earlyChristians felt so strongly the incompatibility of strong human emotionswith the divine nature that they expunged the words "Jesus wept. "

[6] Perhaps Solomon was amused by them, for in the catalogue of thevaluable things brought in his ships are apes and peacocks. 

[7] I cannot see in Homer any of that philosophic satire on thecondition of mortals, which some have found in those passages where menare represented as being deceived and tricked by the gods. Anything sodeep would be beyond humour. He very probably conceived that the gods, whom he represented as similar to men, were sometimes not above playingsevere practical jokes on them. The so-called irony of Sophocles in likemanner, is too philosophical and bitter for humour. 

[8] Tom Brown, the humorist, says, Lycambes complimented the Iambics ofArchilochus with the most convincing proof of their wit and goodness. 

[9] Archilochus could not have been called a satirist in the correctsense of the word. His observations were mostly personal orphilosophical. He had evidently considerable power in illustrating themoral by the physical world, and one of his sayings "Speak not evil ofthe dead, " has become proverbial. 

[10] Irony had previously been used in Asia. The only specimens ofhumour in the Old Testament are of this character, as in Job, "No doubtbut ye are the people, and wisdom shall die with you;" where Elijah saysto the prophets of Baal, "Cry aloud, for he is a god, " and the childrencall after Elisha, "Go up, thou bald-head. "

[11] Magnes and others of the day used similar titles. We read thatthere were once three Homeric hymns extant, named "The Monkeys, " "Theseven-times-shorn Goat, " and "The Song on the Thrushes. "

[12] After disposing of his daughters for a bunch of garlic and a littlesalt, he exclaims, "Oh, Mercury, God of Traffic, grant that I may sellmy wife as profitably, and my mother too!"

[13] So the pun may be represented. 

[14] Certainly not before 460 B. C. 

[15] Compare our "Billingsgate. "

[16] We sometimes speak of a seedy coat. 

[17] The answers to the above riddles are, thistledown, sleep, night andday, shade. 

[18] "Gugga" seems to have corresponded with our "Nigger. "

[19] About three and nine pence. 

[20] Roman mirrors made of silver. 

[21] _Scurra_ originally meant a neighbour, then a gossip, then apleasant fellow, and finally a jocose, and in those rude times ascurrilous man. 

[22] There is a story of Caligula having had an actor burnt alive formaking an offensive pun in an Atellane play. Sometimes nicknames werethus made. Placidus was Acidus, Labienus, Rabienus; Claudius TiberiusNero was Caldius Biberius Mero. 

[23] I have been obliged to omit some of the pungent indelicacy of theoriginal. The Pope was the sacrificing priest. 

[24] We meet with such words as _verrucosus_, _sanna_, a grimace, and_stloppus_, the sound made by striking the inflated cheeks. 

[25] "A satirist is always to be suspected, who to make vice odiousdwells upon all its acts and minutest circumstances with a sort ofrelish and retrospective fondness. "--_Lamb. _

[26] Palindromes, such as "Tibi subito motibus ibit. " We have some inEnglish, as where our forefather addresses his wife "Madam, I'm Adam. "

[27] Pyrogenes has a double meaning, "born of corn, " and "born of fire, "alluding to Bacchus' mother having been burnt. Bromos is a kind ofcereal, Bromion a name for Bacchus. 

[28] A man of Capreæ, having caught an unusually large barbel, presentedit to Tiberius, who was so enraged at his being able to find him in hisretreat, that he ordered his face to be scrubbed with the fish. 

[29] Some of the pagans put off Christian baptism till the last momentunder this idea. 

[30] There seems to me to be several reasons for drawing thisconclusion. 

[31] "Semel minusne, an bis minus; non sat scio, An utrumque eorum, ut quondam audivi dicier Jovi ipsi regi noluit concedere. "

[32] The answers to these enigmas are rose, fleas, sea-mew, visions, wheels. 

[33] As late as the fourteenth century there were only four classicalworks in the Royal Library at Paris. 

[34] Ritson characteristically observes, "There is this distinctionbetween the heathen deities and Christian saints, that the fables of theformer were indebted for their existence to the flowing inspiration ofthe sublime poet, and the legends of the latter to the gloomy fanaticismof a lazy monk or a stinking priest. "

[35] Sometimes anciently called "West Wales. "

[36] King Alfred advanced so far as to make a translation of a classicalhistory written by Orosius in 416; but the object of the work was toshow that Christianity was not the cause of the evils which had befallenthe Roman Empire. 

[37] Two of them are mentioned as superior to Homer. One pretended to bederived from Dares, a Phrygian, who fought on the Trojan side, andanother from Dictys, a Cretan, who was with the Greeks. 

[38] The kind of stories prevalent in these countries may be conjecturedfrom the two related by John of Bromton, as believed by the natives. Onerelates that the head of a child lies at the bottom of the Gulf ofSataliah in Asia Minor, and that when the head is partly upright, suchstorms prevail in the gulf that no vessel can live, but when it is lyingdown there is a calm. The other asserts that once in every month a greatblack dragon comes in the clouds, plunges his head into the stream, butleaves his tail in the sky, and draws up the water, so that even shipsare carried into the air. The only way for sailors to escape thismonster, is to make a great noise by beating and shouting, so as tofrighten him. 

[39] Originally an Arcadian superstition. 

[40] Pinnacles. 

[41] Tiles. 

[42] The following is the original. 

 "Meum est propositum in taberna mori, Vinum sit appositum morientis ori, Ut dicant cum venerint angelorum chori, Deus sit propitius huic potatori. "

[43] An idea probably borrowed from the classical writers. 

[44] Or the "Amiable, " a translation of his father's name. 

[45] Mr. Drummond in his Life of Erasmus. 

[46] Reprinted by Halliwell. 

[47] See "Art-Journal. "

[48] I remember to have seen such a procession at Como in the Holy Week. The various accessories of the Passion were borne along on the top ofpoles with appropriate mottoes, for example: Two ladders crossed, "Hebowed the heavens and came down. " A stuffed cock, "The cock crew. " Abarber's basin, "Pilate washed his hands, " &c. The effect was almostludicrous. 

[49] Lucian makes the father of Cleanthis congratulate himself on havingobtained a buffoon for his son's wedding feast. This individual was anugly little fellow with close shaven head, except a few straggling hairsmade up to resemble a cock. He began by dancing and contorting his bodyand spouting some Ægytian verses, then he launched all kinds offooleries at the company. Most laughed, but on his calling Alcidamas aMaltese puppy, he was challenged to fight or have his brains dashed out. 

[50] But this may have been traditional, for the fools in classic timeswere sometimes shaven. 

[51] Wright's "History of the Grotesque. "

[52] Such as the Wife of Bath's tale, and in "January and May, " or the"Marchante's Tale. "

[53] She was roasting a pig. 

[54] Most of the ridiculous answers said to have been made atexaminations are mere humorous inventions. We almost think there must bea slight improvement made in the following, though they are upon theauthority of an examiner, What are the great Jewish Feasts? Purim, Urim, and Thummin. What bounded Samaria on the East? The Jordan. What on the West? The other side of Jordan. Derive an English word from the Latin _necto_? Necktie. 

Nor can we doubt that a slight humorous colouring has been introducedinto the following from the "Memorials of Archibald Constable, " recentlypublished by his son. --An old deaf relation said on her death-bed to herattendant, "Ann, if I should be spared, I hope my nephew will get thedoctor to open my head, and see whether anything can be done for myhearing. "

[55] One of Anne Boleyn's principal favourites was Sir Thomas Wyatt, whowas celebrated at that day as a man of humour, though at present we seenothing in his poems but a few poetical conceits. The titles of them aresuggestive: "The Lover sending sighs to move his suit. " "Of his Love whopricked her finger with a needle. " "The Lover praiseth the beauty of hisLady's hand. " He wrote the following upon the Queen's name:--

 "What word is that, that changeth not, Though it be turned and made in twain? It is mine Anna, God it wot, The only causer of my pain; My love that meedeth with disdain; Yet is it loved, what will you more? It is my salve and eke my sore. "

[56] Christina of Sweden made a similar remark when the Order of theGarter was sent to Charles Gustavus. 

[57] Pace had said the same to Queen Elizabeth, and from such strokesjesters were called 'honest, ' as 'Honest Jo, ' &c. 

[58] There is little humour in Shadwell's works; he succeeded Dryden asPoet Laureate, which was perhaps the cause of the above lines. 

Rochester said, "If Shadwell had burnt all he wrote, and printed all hespoke, he would have had more wit and humour than any poet. " Probablyhis wit would have been like Rochester's. Whether Shadwell were himselfa good poet or not, he made a hit at the poetasters of his day, in whichhe showed some genius. 

 _Poet. _ O, very loftily! The winged vallance of your eyes advance Shake off your canopied and downie trance: Phoebus already quaffs the morning dew, Each does his daily lease of life renew. Now you shall hear description, 'tis the very life of poetry. He darts his beams on the lark's mossy house, And from his quiet tenement doth rouse The little charming and harmonious fowl Which sings its lump of body to a soul. Swiftly it clambers up in the steep air With warbling notes, and makes each note a stair. 

[59] Sir Roger L'Estrange gives the names of the people attacked. 

[60] One of Cromwell's principal officers. 

[61] Thus familiarly called, no doubt owing to the custom of giving petnames to jesters. 

[62] Guardian, Vol. I. No. 2. 

[63] Fence. 

 London: Printed by A. Schulze, 13, Poland Street.