some a natural and hereditary disposition to certain passions prior to all circumstances of education or fortune; it may be Answered, that though no man is born ambitious or a miser, yet he may inherit from his parents a peculiar temper or complexion of mind, which shall render his imagination more liable to be struck with some particular objects, consequently dispose him to form opinions of good and ill, and entertain passions of a particular turn. Some men, for instance, by the original frame of their minds, are more delighted with the vast and magnificent, others on the contrary with the elegant and gentle aspects of nature. And it is very remarkable, that the disposition of the moral powers is always similar to this of the imagination; that those who are most inclined to admire prodigious and sublime objects in the physical world are also most inclined to applaud examples of fortitude and heroic virtue in the moral. While those who are charmed rather with the delicacy and sweetness of colours, and forms, and sounds, never fail in like manner to yield the preference to the softer scenes of virtue and the sympathies of a domestic life. And this is sufficient to account for the objection. Among the ancient philosophers, though we have several hints concerning this influence of the imagination upon morals among the remains of the Socratic school, yet the Stoics were the first who paid it a due attention. Zeno, their founder, thought it impossible to preserve any tolerable regularity in life, without frequently inspecting those pictures or appearances of things, which the imagination offers to the mind (Diog. Laert. 1. vii.). The meditations of M. Aurelius, and the discourses of Epictetus, are full of the same sentiment; insomuch that the latter makes the Χρήσις οἷα δεῖ, φαντασιών, or right management of the fancies, the only thing for which we are accountable to Providence, and without which a man is no other than stupid or frantic. Arrian. 1. i. c. 12, and 1. ii. c. 22. See also the Characteristics, vol. i. from p. 313 to 321, where this stoical doctrine is embellished with all the elegance and graces of Plato. Ver. 75. how Folly's awkward arts, &c.] Notwithstanding the general influence of ridicule on private and civil life, as well as on learning and the sciences, it has been almost constantly neglected or misrepresented, by divines especially. The manner of treating these subjects in the science of human nature should be precisely the saine as in natural philosophy; from particular facts to investigate the stated order in which they appear, and then apply the general law, thus discovered, to the explication of other appearances and the improvement of useful arts. Ver. 84. Behold the foremost band, &c.] The first and most eneral source of ridicule in the characters of men is vanity, or self-applause for some desirable quality or possession which evidently does not belong to those who assume it. Ver. 121. Then comes the second order, &c. Ridicule from the same vanity, where, though the possession be real, yet no merit can arise from it, because of some particular circumstances, which, though obvious to the spectator, are yet overlooked by the ridiculous character. Ver. 152. Another tribe succeeds, &c.] Ridicule from a notion of excellence in particular objects disproportioned to their intrinsic value, and inconsistent with the order of nature. Ver. 191. But now, ye gay, &c.] Ridicule from a notion of excellence, when the object is absolutely odious or contemptible. This is the highest degree of the ridiculous; as in the affectation of diseases or vices. Ver. 207. Thus far triumphant, &c.] Ridicule from false shame or groundless fear. Ver. 228. Last of the, &c.] Ridicule from the ignorance of such things as our circumstances require us to know. Ver. 248. Suffice it to have said, &c.] By comparing these general sources of ridicule with each other, and examining the ridiculous in other objects, we may obtain a general definition of it, equally applicable to every species. The most important circumstance of this definition is laid down in the lines referred to; but others more minute we shall subjoin here. Aristotle's account of the matter seems both imperfect and false; rò yup γελοῖον, says he, ἐστιν ἁμάρτημά τι καὶ αἰσχος, ἀνώδυνον καὶ οὐ φθαρτικόν : "the ridiculous is some certain fault or turpitude without pain, and not destructive to its subject" (Poet. c. 5). For allowing it to be true, as it is not, that the ridiculous is never accompanied with pain, yet we might produce many instances of such a fault or turpitude which cannot with any tolerable propriety be called ridiculous. So that the definition does not distinguish the thing designed. Nay, farther: even when we perceive the turpitude tending to the destruction of its subject, we may still be sensible of a ridiculous appearance, till the ruin become imminent, and the keener sensations of pity or terror banish the ludicrous apprehension from our minds. For the sensation of ridicule is not a bare perception of the agreement or disagreement of ideas; but a passion or emotion of the mind consequential to that perception. So that the mind may perceive the agreement or disagreement, and yet not feel the ridiculous, because it is engrossed by a more violent emotion. Thus it happens that some men think those objects ridiculous to which others cannot endure to apply the name, because in them they excite a much intenser and more important feeling. And this difference, among other causes, has brought a good deal of confusion into this question. That which makes objects ridiculous is some ground of admiration or esteem connected with other more general circumstances comparatively worthless or deformed; or it is some circumstance of turpitude or deformity connected with what is in general excellent or beautiful: the inconsistent properties existing either in the objects themselves, or in the apprehension of the person to whom they relate; belonging always to the same order or class of being; implying sentiment or design; and exciting no acute or vehement einotion of the heart. To prove the several parts of this definition: The appearance of excellence or beauty connected with a general condition comparatively sordid or deformed, is ridiculous; for instance, pompous pretensions of wisdom joined with ignorance or folly in the Socrates of Aristophanes, and the ostentations of military glory with cowardice and stupidity in the Thraso of Terence. The appearance of deformity or turpitude in conjunction with what is in general excellent or venerable, is also ridiculous; for instance, the personal weaknesses of a magistrate appearing in the solemn and public functions of his station. The incongruous properties may either exist in the objects themselves, or in apprehension of the person to whom they relate. In the last-mentioned instance, they both exist in the objects; in the instances from Aristophanes and Terence, one of them is objective and real, the other only founded in the apprehension of the ridiculous character. The inconsistent properties must belong to the same order or class of being. A coxcomb in fine clothes, bedaubed by accident in foul weather, is a ridiculous object; because his general apprehension of excellence and esteem is referred to the splendour and expense of his dress. A man of sense and merit, in the same circumstances, is not counted ridiculous; because the general ground of excellence and esteem in him is, both in fact and in his own apprehension, of a very different species. A Every ridiculous object implies sentiment or design. column placed by an architect without a capital or base is laughed at: the same column in a ruin causes a very different sensation. And, lastly, the occurrence must excite no acute or vehement emotion of the heart, such as terror, pity, or indignation; for in that case, as was observed above, the mind is not at leisure to contemplate the ridiculous. Whether any appearance not ridiculous be involved in this description, and whether it comprehend every species and form of the ridiculous, must be determined by repeated applications of it to particular instances. Ver. 259. Ask we for what fair end, &c.] Since it is beyond all contradiction evident that we have a natural sense or feeling of the ridiculous, and since so good a reason may be assigned to justify the Supreme Being for bestowing it, one cannot, without astonishment, reflect on the conduct of those men who imagine it is for the service of true religion to vilify and blacken it without distinction, and endeavour to persuade us that it is never applied but in a bad cause. Ridicule is not concerned with mere speculative truth or falsehood. It is not in abstract propositions or theorems, but in actions and passions, good and evil, beauty and deformity, that we find materials for it; and all these terms are relative, implying approbation or blame. To ask, then, whether ridicule be a test of truth is, in other words, to ask whether that which is ridiculous can be morally true, can be just and becoming; or whether that which is just and becoming can be ridiculous. A question that does not deserve a serious answer. For it is most evident, that, as in a metaphysical proposition offered to the understanding for its assent, the faculty of reason examines the terms of the proposition, and finding one idea, which was supposed equal to another, to be in fact unequal, of consequence rejects the proposition as a falsehood; so, in objects offered to the mind for its esteem or applause, the faculty of ridicule, finding an incongruity in the claim, urges the mind to reject it with laughter and contempt. When, therefore, we observe such a claim obtruded upon mankind, and the inconsistent circumstances carefully concealed from the eye of the public, it is our business, if the matter be of importance to society, to drag out those latent circumstances, and, by setting them in full view, to convince the world how ridiculous the claim is: and thus a double advantage is gained; for we both detect the moral falsehood sooner than in the way of speculative inquiry, and impress the minds of men with a stronger sense of the vanity and error of its authors. And this, and no more, is meant by the application of ridicule. But it is said, the practice is dangerous, and may be inconsistent with the regard we owe to objects of real dignity and excellence. I answer, the practice fairly managed can never be dangerous: men may be dishonest in obtruding circumstances foreign to the object, and we may be inadvertent in allowing those circumstances to impose upon us; but the sense of ridicule always judges right. The Socrates of Aristophanes is as truly ridiculus a character as ever was drawn: true; but it is not the character of Socrates, the divine moralist, and father of ancient wisdom. What then? did the ridicule of the pet hinder the philosopher from detecting and disclaiming those foreiga circumstances which he had falsely introduced into his character, and thus rendered the satirist doubly ridiculous in his turn? No; but it nevertheless had an ill influence on the minds of the people. And so has the reasoning of Spinoza mide many atheists: he has founded it, indeed, on suppositions utterly false; but allow him these, and his conciusions are unavoidably true. And if we must reject the use of ri licule, because, by the imposition of false circumstances, things may be made to seem ridiculous which are not so in themselves; why we ought not in the same manner to reject the use of reason, because, by proceeding on false principles, conclusions will appear true which are impossible in nature. let the vehement and obstinate declaimers against ridicule determine. Ver. 285. The inexpressive semblance, &c.] This similitude is the foundation of almost all the ornaments of poetic diction. Ver. 326. Two faithful needles, &c.] See the elegant poem recited by Cardinal Bembo in the character of Lucretius; Strada Prolus. vi. Academ. 2, c. v. Ver. 348. By these mysterious ties, &c.] The act of remem Lering seems almost wholly to depend on the association of ideas. Ter. 411. Into its proper vehicle, &c.] This relates to the different sorts of corporeal mediums, by which the ideas of the artists are rendered palpable to the senses; as by sounds in music, by lines and shadows in painting, by diction in poetry, &c. Ver. 547. this book. One pursues The rust alone, &c.] See the note to ver. 18 of Ver. 558. Waller longs, &c.] O! how I long my careless limbs to lay And again, Under the plantane shade; and all the day With amorous airs my fancy entertain, &c. WALLER, Battle of the Suminer Islands, Canto I. While in the park I sing, the list ning deer At Pens-hurst. Ver. 593. Not a breeze, &c.] That this account may not appear rather poetically extravagant than just in philosophy, it may be proper to produce the sentiment of one of the greatest, wisest, and best of men on this head; one so little to be suspected of partiality in the case, that he reckons it among those favours for which he was especially thankful to the gods, that they had not suffered him to make any great proficiency in the arts of eloquence and poetry, lest by that means he should have been diverted from pursuits of more importance to his high station. Speaking of the beauty of universal nature, he observes, that there is a pleasing and graceful aspect in every object we perceive," when once we consider its connection with that general order. He instances in many things which at first sight would be thought rather deformities; and then adds, "that a man who enjoys a sensibility of temper, with & just comprehension of the universal order, will discern many amiable things, not credible to every mind, but to those alone who have entered into an honourable familiarity with nature and her works." M. Antonin. iii. 2. |