gour and subtlety in its portrayal of
character, and in the purity and delicacy of its humour. Those last
two apparently paradoxical substantives are chosen advisedly, and
employed as the most convenient way of introducing that disagreeable
question which no commentator on Sterne can possibly shirk, but which
every admirer of Sterne must approach with reluctance. There is, of
course, a sense in which Sterne's humour--if, indeed, we may bestow
that name on the form of jocularity to which I refer--is the very
reverse of pure and delicate: a sense in which it is impure and
indelicate in the highest degree. On this it is necessary, however
briefly, to touch; and to the weighty and many-counted indictment
which may be framed against Sterne on this head there is, of course,
but one possible plea--the plea of guilty. Nay, the plea must go
further than a mere admission of the offence; it must include an
admission of the worst motive, the worst spirit as animating the
offender. It is not necessary to my purpose, nor doubtless congenial
to the taste of the reader, that I should enter upon any critical
analysis of this quality in the author's work, or compare him in this
respect with the two other great humourists who have been the
worst offenders in the same way. In one of those highly interesting
criticisms of English literature which, even when they most
conspicuously miss the mark, are so instructive to Englishmen, M.
Taine has instituted an elaborate comparison--very much, I need hardly
say, to the advantage of the latter--between the indecency of Swift
and that of Rabelais--that "good giant," as his countryman calls him,
"who rolls himself joyously about on his dunghill, thinking no evil."
And no doubt the world of literary moralists will always be divided
upon the question--one mainly of national temperament--whether mere
animal spirits or serious satiric purpose is the best justification
for offences against cleanliness. It is, of course, only the former
theory, if either, which could possibly avail Sterne, and it would
need an unpleasantly minute analysis of this characteristic in his
writings to ascertain how far M. Taine's eloquent defence of Rabelais
could be made applicable to his case. But the inquiry, one is glad
to think, is as unnecessary as it would be disagreeable; for,
unfortunately for Sterne, he must be condemned on a _quantitative_
comparison of indecency, whatever may be his fate when compared
with these ot