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 objectionable at the present day. The humour is not in the plot, but in the general dialogue. 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 had plenty of inebriety in it. After singing a drinking song, Sir Wilful says 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 he was buried in Westminster Abbey, and his pall was supported by noblemen. Pope was one of his greatest admirers, and dedicated his translation of Homer 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 comic writer, 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 was one of the most accomplished of the courtiers of that day, who, notwithwstanding their dissipation, were more or less scholars, and wrote poetry. What was better, he was a munificent supporter of real literary genius, and patronized Dryden, and to judge by their commendations was not neglectful of Congreve and Pope.

Most of his poems are in the pastoral strain, but do not show any great talent. 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 fleet was destroyed in 1665. The night before the engagement he wrote the well known 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 in those times the same officers served both in army and navy, and many of the young sparks taken from the gaieties of London had not yet acquired their sea legs. Wycherley is said to have been present at some of the engagements with the Dutch.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Of course this will scarcely apply in those cases in which, by abstraction, we overlook the creative action of the mind, and regard its humorous productions as ludicrous. Nor does it hold good where from long exercise of ingenuity a habit has been formed and amusing fancies spring up, as it were naturally, and so involuntarily that, for the moment, we see them only as ludicrous. This view changes almost instantaneously, and beneath it we often find the best humour. It may be said that such cases should be placed entirely under the head of humour, but can we maintain that a man is unaware when he is humorous? The most telling effects are produced by the ludicrous, and where the creative action of the mind is scarcely discernible. Efforts to be humorous are seldom crowned with success; we require something that appears to be real or original, either as a close rendering of actual occurrences, or a spontaneous efflorescence of genius. Among the latter class we may reckon some of our most exquisite and permanent sayings.

[2] A story is told of a Mr. Crispe, a merchant of London, who although deaf, 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 his friends.

[3] Mrs. Barbauld had such a perpetual smile that one of her friends said it made her jaws ache to look at her.

[4] St. Paul, who was brought up at the feet of Gamaliel, gives a different account in Rom. iv. 19. See also Heb. xi. 11.

[5] Soame Jenyns strangely imagined that a portion of the happiness of Seraphim and of just men made perfect would be derived from an exquisite perception of the ludicrous; while Addison mentions that a learned monk laid 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 early Christians felt so strongly the incompatibility of strong human emotions with the divine nature that they expunged the words "Jesus wept."

[6] Perhaps Solomon was amused by them, for in the catalogue of the valuable things brought in his ships are apes and peacocks.

[7] I cannot see in Homer any of that philosophic satire on the condition of mortals, which some have found in those passages where men are represented as being deceived and tricked by the gods. Anything so deep would be beyond humour. He very probably conceived that the gods, whom he represented as similar to men, were sometimes not above playing severe practical jokes on them. The so-called irony of Sophocles in like manner, is too philosophical and bitter for humour.

[8] Tom Brown, the humorist, says, Lycambes complimented the Iambics of Archilochus with the most convincing proof of their wit and goodness.

[9] Archilochus could not have been called a satirist in the correct sense of the word. His observations were mostly personal or philosophical. He had evidently considerable power in illustrating the moral by the physical world, and one of his sayings "Speak not evil of the dead," has become proverbial.

[10] Irony had previously been used in Asia. The only specimens of humour in the Old Testament are of this character, as in Job, "No doubt but ye are the people, and wisdom shall die with you;" where Elijah says to the prophets of Baal, "Cry aloud, for he is a god," and the children call after Elisha, "Go up, thou bald-head."

[11] Magnes and others of the day used similar titles. We read that there were once three Homeric hymns extant, named "The Monkeys," "The seven-times-shorn Goat," and "The Song on the Thrushes."

[12] After disposing of his daughters for a bunch of garlic and a little salt, he exclaims, "Oh, Mercury, God of Traffic, grant that I may sell my 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 and day, 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 a pleasant fellow, and finally a jocose, and in those rude times a scurrilous man.

[22] There is a story of Caligula having had an actor burnt alive for making an offensive pun in an Atellane play. Sometimes nicknames were thus made. Placidus was Acidus, Labienus, Rabienus; Claudius Tiberius Nero was Caldius Biberius Mero.

[23] I have been obliged to omit some of the pungent indelicacy of the original. 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 odious dwells upon all its acts and minutest circumstances with a sort of relish and retrospective fondness."—Lamb.

[26] Palindromes, such as "Tibi subito motibus ibit." We have some in English, 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 of cereal, Bromion a name for Bacchus.

[28] A man of Capreae, having caught an unusually large barbel, presented it to Tiberius, who was so enraged at his being able to find him in his retreat, that he ordered his face to be scrubbed with the fish.

[29] Some of the pagans put off Christian baptism till the last moment under this idea.

[30] There seems to me to be several reasons for drawing this conclusion.

[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 classical works in the Royal Library at Paris.

[34] Ritson characteristically observes, "There is this distinction between the heathen deities and Christian saints, that the fables of the former were indebted for their existence to the flowing inspiration of the sublime poet, and the legends of the latter to the gloomy fanaticism of 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 classical history written by Orosius in 416; but the object of the work was to show that Christianity was not the cause of the evils which had befallen the Roman Empire.

[37] Two of them are mentioned as superior to Homer. One pretended to be derived from Dares, a Phrygian, who fought on the Trojan side, and another from Dictys, a Cretan, who was with the Greeks.

[38] The kind of stories prevalent in these countries may be conjectured from the two related by John of Bromton, as believed by the natives. One relates that the head of a child lies at the bottom of the Gulf of Sataliah in Asia Minor, and that when the head is partly upright, such storms prevail in the gulf that no vessel can live, but when it is lying down there is a calm. The other asserts that once in every month a great black dragon comes in the clouds, plunges his head into the stream, but leaves his tail in the sky, and draws up the water, so that even ships are carried into the air. The only way for sailors to escape this monster, is to make a great noise by beating and shouting, so as to frighten 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 of poles with appropriate mottoes, for example: Two ladders crossed, "He bowed the heavens and came down." A stuffed cock, "The cock crew." A barber's basin, "Pilate washed his hands," &c. The effect was almost ludicrous.

[49] Lucian makes the father of Cleanthis congratulate himself on having obtained a buffoon for his son's wedding feast. This individual was an ugly little fellow with close shaven head, except a few straggling hairs made up to resemble a cock. He began by dancing and contorting his body and spouting some AEgytian verses, then he launched all kinds of fooleries at the company. Most laughed, but on his calling Alcidamas a Maltese puppy, he was challenged to fight or have his brains dashed out.

[50] But this may have been traditional, for the fools in classic times were 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 at examinations are mere humorous inventions. We almost think there must be a slight improvement made in the following, though they are upon the authority 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 introduced into the following from the "Memorials of Archibald Constable," recently published by his son.—An old deaf relation said on her death-bed to her attendant, "Ann, if I should be spared, I hope my nephew will get the doctor to open my head, and see whether anything can be done for my hearing."

[55] One of Anne Boleyn's principal favourites was Sir Thomas Wyatt, who was celebrated at that day as a man of humour, though at present we see nothing in his poems but a few poetical conceits. The titles of them are suggestive: "The Lover sending sighs to move his suit." "Of his Love who pricked her finger with a needle." "The Lover praiseth the beauty of his Lady'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 the Garter was sent to Charles Gustavus.

[57] Pace had said the same to Queen Elizabeth, and from such strokes jesters were called 'honest,' as 'Honest Jo,' &c.

[58] There is little humour in Shadwell's works; he succeeded Dryden as Poet Laureate, which was perhaps the cause of the above lines.

Rochester said, "If Shadwell had burnt all he wrote, and printed all he spoke, he would have had more wit and humour than any poet." Probably his wit would have been like Rochester's. Whether Shadwell were himself a good poet or not, he made a hit at the poetasters of his day, in which he 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 pet names to jesters.

[62] Guardian, Vol. I. No. 2.

[63] Fence.

London: Printed by A. Schulze, 13, Poland Street.

THE END