Goldsmith's reflection upon the rustic simplicity of the
villagers, when he says of the schoolmaster--
"And still the wonder grew,
How one small head could carry all he knew."
Again, we may ask, what person can be possibly injured by most of the
humorous stories in which our Transatlantic cousins delight, such as
that an American, describing a severe winter said, "Why I had a cow on
my farm up the Hudson river, and she got in among the ice, and was
carried down three miles before we could get her out again. And what do
you suppose has been the consequence? why, she has milked nothing but
ice-cream ever since."
How little of the humour, which is always floating around and makes life
and society enjoyable, ever gives pain to anybody; how few men there
really are who, as it is said, would rather lose a friend than a joke.
Most strokes are directed against imaginary persons, it is generally
recognised that what seems wrong to one may seem right to another, and
no man of common honesty can deny that he has often ridiculed others for
faults which he would have committed himself. This confession might be
well made by the most of our humorists.
But although humour should not be offensive, it would be wrong to
consider that its proper duty is to inculcate virtue. This is no more
its office than it is that of a novel to give sage advice, or of a poem
to teach science. Herein Addison's excellent feelings seem to have led
him astray, for speaking of false humour he says that "it is all one to
it whether it exposes vice and folly, luxury and avarice, or, on the
contrary, virtue and wisdom, pain and poverty." From what he says, we
might conclude that true humour was that which attacks vice, and false
that which makes against virtue. But although it is good to have a
worthy object, this has nothing to do with the quality of humour. We
have less enjoyment of ridicule when it is directed against a virtuous
man, but we also feel little when the principal element in it is moral
instruction.
There is no reason why we should view laughter at what is ludicrous as
something objectionable. The more intelligent portion of the civilised
world is not now amused at the real sufferings or misfortunes of others.
If a man be run over in the street, and have his leg broken, we all
sympathise with him. But some pains which have no serious result are
still treated with levity, such as those of a gouty foot, of the
extraction of a tooth
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