roduced, but this is not sufficient,
and might merely constitute a summary or translation. The closer the
copy the better the parody, as where Pope's lines

"Here shall the spring its earliest sweets bestow
Here the first roses of the year shall blow,"

were applied by Catherine Fanshawe to the Regent's Park with a very
slight change--

"Here shall the spring its earliest coughs bestow,
Here the first noses of the year shall blow."

But all parody is not travesty, for a writing may be parodied without
being ridiculed. This was notably the case in the Centones,[1] Scripture
histories in the phraseology of Homer and Virgil, which were written by
the Christians in the fourth century, in order that they might be able
to teach at once classics and religion. From the pious object for which
they were first designed, they degenerated into fashionable exercises of
ingenuity, and thus we find the Emperor Valentinian composing some on
marriage, and requesting, or rather commanding Ausonius to contend with
him in such compositions. They were regarded as works of fancy--a sort
of literary embroidery.

It may be questioned whether any of these parodies were intended to
possess humour; but wherever we find such as have any traces of it, we
may conclude that the imitation has been adopted to increase it. This
does not necessarily amount to travesty, for the object is not always to
throw contempt on the original. Thus, we cannot suppose "The Battle of
the Frogs and Mice," or "The Banquet of Matron,"[2] although written in
imitation of the heroic poetry of Homer, was intended to make "The
Iliad" appear ridiculous, but rather that the authors thought to make
their conceits more amusing, by comparing what was most insignificant
with something of unsurpassable grandeur. The desire to gain influence
from the prescriptive forms of great writings was the first incentive to
parody. We cannot suppose that Luther intended to be profane when he
imitated the first psalm--

"Blessed is the man that hath not walked in the way of the
Sacramentarians, not sat in the seat of the Zuinglians, or followed
the counsel of the Zurichers."

Probably Ben Jonson saw nothing objectionable in the quaintly whimsical
lines in Cynthia's Revels--

_Amo._ From Spanish shrugs, French faces, smirks, irps,
and all affected humours.

_Chorus._ Good Mercury defend us.

_Pha._ From secret friends, sweet servants, loves, dov