with other objects, or be represented in such new circumstances as to excite very different feelings from what they would otherwise. Among the various sayings of the Emperor Napoleon, none is more true than his very appropriate remark to the Abbé de Pradt, at the time of his secret flight on a sledge through Poland and Prussia, that there is but a single step from the sublime to the ridiculous.

In the practice of burlesque, as on all other occasions of wit, there is a sudden and uncommon assemblage of related ideas. Sometimes this assemblage is made by means of a formal comparison. Take, as an instance, the following comparison from Hudibras: "And now had Phoebus in the lap Of Thetis taken out his nap;

And, like a lobster boiled, the morn
From black to red began to turn."

We find illustrations of burlesque also in those instances where objects of real dignity and importance are coupled with things mean and contemptible, although there is no direct and formal comparison made, as in this instance from the above-mentioned book:

"For when the restless Greeks sat down

So many years before Troy-town,
And were renowned, as Homer writes,
For well-soled boots no less than fights."

In these instances we have related ideas. In the first there is undoubtedly an analogy between a lobster and the morning, in the particular of its turning from dark to red. But, however real it may be, it strikes every one as a singular and unexpected resemblance. In the other passage, it is not clear that Butler has done anything more than Homer in associating the renown of the Greeks with their boots as well as their valour. But to us of the present day the connexion of ideas is hardly less uncommon and singular, not to say incongruous, than in the former.

§ 78. Of wit when employed in aggrandizing objects. The second method which wit employs in exciting emotions of the ludicrous is by aggrandizing objects

which are in themselves inconsiderable. This species of wit may be suitably termed mock-majestic or mockheroic. While the former kind delights in low expressions, this is the reverse, and chooses learned words and sonorous combinations. In the following spirited passage of Pope, the writer compares dunces to gods, and Grub-street to heaven.

"As Berecynthia, while her offspring vie
In homage to the mother of the sky,
Surveys around her in the bless'd abode
A hundred sons, and every son a god;
Not with less glory mighty Dulness crowned,

Shall take through Grub-street her triumphant round;
And her Parnassus glancing o'er at once,

Behold a hundred sons, and each a dunce."

In this division of wit are to be included those instances where grave and weighty reflections are made upon mere trifles. In this case, as in others, the ideas are in some respects related, or have something in common; but the grouping of them is so singular and unexpected, that we cannot observe it without considerable emotion.

"My galligaskins, that have long withstood

The winter's fury and encroaching frosts,

By time subdued (what will not time subdue!),
A horrid chasm disclose."

It may be proper to make the remark in this place, which is applicable to wit in all its forms, that many sayings, which would otherwise have appeared to us witty, lose no small share of their intended effect whenever we are led to suspect that they were premeditated. Hence an observation or allusion, which would be well received in conversation, would often be insipid in print; and it is for the same reason that we receive more pleasure from a witty repartee than a witty attack. Our surprise at the sudden developement of intellectual acuteness is much greater at such times.

§ 79. Of other methods of exciting emotions of the ludicrous. But it is not to be supposed that wit is limited to

the methods of assembling together incongruous ideas, which have just been referred to. A A person of genuine wit excites emotions of the ludicrous in a thousand ways, and which will be so diverse from each other, that it will be found exceedingly difficult to subject them to any rules. It would be difficult, for instance, to bring within any established classification of the specific sources of wit many passages of the poet Butler. In the first Canto of his poem of Hudibras, we have a particular account of the hero's horse, in which the writer very singularly compares the animal to a Spaniard in majesty and deliberation of gait, and in some other respects to the celebrated horse of Cæsar, as follows:

"He was well stay'd, and in his gait
Preserved a grave, majestic state.
At spur or switch no more he skipp'd,
Or mended pace, than Spaniard whipp'd;
And yet so fiery he would bound,
As if he grieved to touch the ground.
That Cæsar's horse, who, as fame goes,
Had corns upon his feet and toes,
Was not by half so tender hoof'd,
Or trod upon the ground so soft;

And as that beast would kneel and stoop
(Some write) to take his rider up,
So Hudibras's ('tis well known)

Would do the same to set him down."

It is

§ 80. Of the character and occasions of humour. Closely connected with the general subject of ludicrous emotions and of wit is that of Humour. well known that we often apply the terms humour and humorous to descriptions of a particular character, whether written or given in conversation, and which may be explained as follows.

It so happens that we frequently find among men what seems to us a disproportion in their passions; for instance, when they are noisy and violent, but not durable. We find inconsistencies, contradictions, and disproportions in their actions. They have their foibles (hardly any one is without them), such as selfconceit, caprice, foolish partialities, and jealousies.

Such incongruities in feeling and action cause an emotion of surprise like an unexpected combination of ideas in wit. Observing them, as we do, in connexion with the acknowledged high traits and responsibilities of human nature, we can no more refrain from an emotion of the ludicrous than we can on seeing a gentleman of fine clothes and high dignity making a false step and tumbling into a gutter. A person who can seize upon these specialties in temper and conduct, and set them forth in a lively and exact manner, is called a man of humour, and his descriptions are termed humorous descriptions.

Mr. Addison has given many examples of the humorous in the incidents and characters of the Tattler and Spectator. But excellence in this species of writing is not very frequently found, and is an attainment of considerable difficulty. In general it implies something peculiar in the character of the writer. There are some persons who seem to have a natural inclination for noticing those traits in the feelings and actions of men which cause ludicrous emotions. Whatever may be the cause of it, there can hardly be a question as to the fact that some possess this characteristic much more than others. This was particularly true of some of the writers who have been mentioned in this chapter, and of Swift, Fontaine, and others. Writers who have a natural turn of this sort will of course be more likely to excel in the humorous than others, although great excellence in it, in addition to this indispensable trait, will require great precision and power of language and cultivation of taste.

§ 81. Of humorous descriptions as modified by disposition. Not unfrequently the character of humorous descriptions will be found to be modified by the traits that predominate in the writer's dispositions. If he be a person of kind and generous temper, so that he has a feeling of forgiveness and sympathy in view of the imperfections which he has the power of setting in a ludicrous or humorous light, like Shakspeare or

Sir Walter Scott, like Sterne, Dickens, and Irving, his gentle satires, if such they may be called, may provoke a smile, but will leave no sting, no wound behind them. But when this power is possessed by persons who naturally have an unfeeling heart, or whose tempers, which not unfrequently happens, have become unduly embittered by the infelicities of the times, as in the case of Swift and Voltaire, we feel uneasy in their presence, because we know they have in their hands a weapon, which smites and destroys with little or nothing to check its violence.

And this helps to illustrate what is often said in our study and estimate of human nature, that in judging men and forming an estimate of their character, we are to take into account not only particular powers and traits for which they may be distinguished, but the modification which these powers and traits may experience from their union with other leading traits of intellect or of disposition. Without understanding and appreciating this close and reciprocal relationship and modification of the powers of the mind, men's judgments of each other must necessarily be subject to great error.

§ 82. Of the practical utility of feelings of the ludicrous.

It is not impossible that the feelings which we have examined in this chapter may have the appearance to some minds of being practically useless. If this were the fact, it would be at variance with the economy of the mind in other respects, which gives evidence everywhere that its original tendencies are ingrafted upon it for some practical ends. But it is not so. The feeling of the ludicrous (or, as it is sometimes called, the sense of ridicule) is attended with results which, although they may not be perfectly obvious at first, will be found, on a little examination, to be of no small moment. It is entirely clear that it constitutes one of the important guides and aids which nature has appointed of human conduct. Scarcely any one is willing to undergo ridicule even in its milder and