tremely gay and ludicrous, resembling in its fubject the Rape of the Lock.

men."

Humour belongs to the prefent chapter, because it is undoubtedly connected with ridicule. Congreve defines humour to be "a fingular and unavoidable manner of doing or faying any thing, peculiar and natural to one man only, by which his speech and ac"tions are distinguished from those of other Were this definition just, a majestic and commanding air, which is a fingular property, is humour; as also that natural flow of eloquence and correct elocution which is a rare talent. Nothing just or proper is denominated humour; nor any fingularity of character, words, or actions, that is valued or refpected. When we attend to the character of an humorift, we find that the peculiarity of this character leffens the man in our esteem: we find that this character arifes from circumftances both rifible and improper, and therefore in some measure ridiculous.

Humour in writing is very different from humour in character. When an author infifts upon ludicrous fubjects with a profeff

ed

may

ed purpose to make his readers laugh, he be ftyled a ludicrous writer; but is fcarce intitled to be ftyled a writer of bumour. This quality belongs to an author, who, affecting to be grave and serious, paints his objects in fuch colours as to provoke mirth and laughter. A writer that is really an humorift in character, does this without defign. If not, he must affect the character in order to fucceed. Swift and Fontaine were humorists in character, and their writings are full of humour. Addifon was not an humorist in character; and yet in his profe writings a moft delicate and refined humour prevails. Arbuthnot exceeds them all in drollery and humorous painting; which shows a great genius, because, if I am not mifinformed, he had nothing of this peculiarity in his character.

There remains to fhow, by examples, the manner of treating fubjects fo as to give them a ridiculous appearance.

Il ne dit jamais, je vous donne, mais, je vous prete le bon jour.

Moliere.

Orleans.

Orleans. I know him to be valiant.

Conftable. I was told that by one that knows him better than you.

Orleans. What's he?

Conftable. Marry, he told me fo himself; and he said, he car'd not who knew it.

Henry V. Skakespear.

He never broke any man's head but his own, and that was againfa poft when he was drunk.

Ibid.

Millament. Sententious Mirabell! pr'ythee don't look with that violent and inflexible wife face, like Solomon at the dividing of the child in an old tapestry hanging.

Way of the world.

A true critic in the perufal of a book, is like a dog at a feast, whose thoughts and ftomach are wholly fet upon what the guests fling away, and confequently is apt to fnarl most when there are the feweft bones.

Tale of a Tub.

In the following inftances the ridicule is made to appear from the behaviour of the perfons introduced.

Mafcarille.

Mafcarille. Te fouvient-il, vicomte, de cette demi-lune, que nous emportâmes fur les ennemis au fiege d'Arras?

Jodelet. Que veux tu dire avec ta demi-lune? c'etoit bien une lune toute entiere.

Moliere les Precieufes Ridicules, sc. 1Ị.

Slender. I came yonder at Eaton to marry Mrs Anne Page; and fhe's a great lubberly boy.

Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong. Slender. What need you tell me that? I think fo, when I took a boy for a girl: if I had been marry'd to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him.

Merry Wives of Windfor

Valentine. Your blessing, Sir,

Sir Sampfon. You've had it already, Sir: I think I fent it you to day in a bill for four thoufand pound; a great deal of money, Brother Forefight.

Forefight. Ay indeed, Sir Sampfon, a great deal of money for a young man; I wonder what can

he do with it,

Love for Love, aṛt 2. Sc. 7,

Millamant. I naufeate walking; 'tis a countrydiverfion; I lothe the country, and every thing that relates to it.

Sir

ye,

Sir Wilful. Indeed! hah! look ye, look you do? nay, 'tis like you may

here are

choice of pastimes here in town, as plays and the like; that must be confefs'd indeed.

Millamant. Ah l'etourdie! I hate the town too. Sir Wilful. Dear heart, that's much-hah! that you fhould hate 'em both! hah! 'tis like you may; there are some can't relish the town, and others can't away with the country--'tis like you may be one of thofe, Cousine.

Way of the world, at 4. fc. 4.

Lord Froth. I affure you, Sir Paul, I laugh at no body's jest but my own, or a lady's: I affure you, Sir Paul.

Brifk. How? how, my Lord? what, affront my wit! Let me perish, do I never fay any thing worthy to be laugh'd at?

Lord Froth. O foy, don't misapprehend me, I don't fay fo, for I often fimile at your conceptions. But there is nothing more unbecoming a man of quality, than to laugh; 'tis fuch a vulgar expreffion of the paffion! every body can laugh. Then especially to laugh at the jeft of an inferior perfon, or when any body else of the fame quality does not laugh with one; ridiculous! To be pleas'd with what pleases the crowd! Now, when I laugh I always laugh alone.

Double Dealer, alt 1. Sc. 4.

So