{86}We shall now return to the law, for our laws are full of returns,
and we we shall shew a compendium of law [_takes the wig_]; parts of
practice in the twist of the tail.--The depth of a full bottom denotes
the length of a chancery suit, and the black coif behind, like a
blistering plaister, seems to shew us that law is a great irritator, and
only to be used in cases of necessity.
We shall now beg leave to change the fashion of the head-dress, for,
like a poor periwig-maker, I am obliged to mount several patterns on the
same block.
[_Puts on the wig, and takes the nosegay._]
{87}Law is law, law is law, and as in such and so forth, and hereby, and
aforesaid, provided always, nevertheless, notwithstanding. Law is like a
country dance, people are led up and down in it till they are tired. Law
is like a book of surgery, there are a great many terrible cases in it.
It is also like physic, they that take least of it are best off. Law is
like a homely gentlewoman, very well to follow. Law is like a scolding
wife, very bad when it follows us. Law is like a new fashion, people are
bewitched to get into it; it is also like bad weather, most people are
glad when they get out of it.
{88}We shall now mention a cause, called "Bullum _versus_ Boatum:" it
was a cause that came before me. The cause was as follows.
There were two farmers; farmer A and farmer B. Farmer A was seized or
possessed of a bull: farmer B was possessed of a ferry-boat. Now the
owner of the ferry-boat, having made his boat fast to a post on shore,
with a piece of hay, twisted rope-fashion, or, as we say, _vulgo
vocato_, a hay-band.
After he had made his boat fast to a post on shore, as it was very
natural for a hungry man to do, he went up town to dinner; farmer A's
bull, as it was very natural for a hungry bull to do, came down town to
look for a dinner; and, observing, discovering, seeing, and spying-out,
some turnips in the bottom of the ferry-boat, the bull scrambled into
the ferry-boat: he ate up the turnips, and, to make an end of his meal,
fell to work upon the hay-band: the boat, being eaten from its moorings,
floated down the river, with the bull in it: it struck against a rock;
beat a hole in the bottom of the boat, and tossed the bull overboard;
whereupon the owner of the bull brought his action against the boat,
for running away with the bull. The owner of the boat brought his action
against the bull for running away with the {89} boat. And thus notice of
trial was given, Bullum _versus_ Boatum, Boatum _versus_ Bullum.
Now the Counsel for the bull began with saying, "My Lord, and you
gentlemen of the jury, we are counsel in this cause for the bull. We are
indicted for running away with the boat. Now, my Lord, we have heard
of running horses, but never of running bulls before. Now, my Lord, the
bull could no more run away with the boat than a man in a coach may be
said to run away with the horses; therefore, my Lord, how can we punish
what is not punishable? How can we eat what is not eatable? Or, how can
we drink what is not drinkable? Or, as the law says, how can we think on
what is not thinkable? Therefore, my {90}Lord, as we are counsel in this
cause for the bull, if the jury should bring the bull in guilty, the
jury would be guilty of a bull."
The counsel for the boat observed that the bull should be nonsuited,
because, in his declaration, he had not specified what colour he was of;
for thus wisely, and thus learnedly, spoke the counsel.--"My Lord, if
the bull was of no colour, he must be of some colour; and, if he was
not of any colour, what colour could the bull be of?" I over-ruled this
motion myself, by observing the bull was a white bull, and that white is
no colour: besides, as I told my brethren, they should not trouble their
heads to talk of colour in the law, for the law can colour any thing.
This cause being afterwards left to a reference, upon the award both
bull and boat were acquitted, it being proved that the tide of the river
carried them both away; upon which I gave it as my opinion, that, as the
tide of the river carried both bull and boat away, both bull and boat
had a good action against the water-bailiff.
My opinion being taken, an action was issued, and, upon the traverse,
this point of law arose, How, wherefore, and whether, why, when, and
what, whatsoever, whereas, and whereby, as the {91}boat was not a
_compos mentis_ evidence, how could an oath be administered? That point
was soon settled by Boatum's attorney declaring that, for his client, he
would swear any thing.
The water-bailiff's charter was then read, taken out of the original
record in true law Latin; which set forth, in their declaration, that
they were carried away either by the tide of flood or the tide of ebb.
The charter of the water-bailiff was as follows. "_Aquæ bailiffi est
magistrates in choisi, sapor omnibus fishibus qui habuerunt finnos et
scalos, claws, shells, et talos, qui swimmare in freshibus, vel saltibus
reveris lakos, pondis, canalibus et well-boats, sive oysteri, prawni,
whitini, shrimpi, turbutus solus_;" that is, not turbots alone, but
turbots and soals both together. But now comes the nicety of the law;
the law is as nice as a new-laid egg, and not to be understood by
addle-headed people. Bullum and Boatum mentioned both ebb and flood to
avoid quibbling; but, it being proved that they were carried away
neither by the tide of flood, nor by the tide of ebb, but exactly upon
the top of high water, they were nonsuited; but, such was the lenity of
the court, upon their paying all costs, they were allowed to begin
again, _de novo_.
{92}This is one of those many thousand Heads [_takes the head_] who
swarm in and about London, whose times and minds are divided between
the affairs of state and the affairs of a kitchen. He was anxious after
venison and politics; he believed every cook to be a great genius; and
to know how to dress a turtle comprehended all the arts and sciences
together. He was always hunting after newspapers, to read about battles;
and imagined soldiers and sailors were only made to be knock'd on the
head, that he might read an account of it in the papers. He read every
political pamphlet that was published on both sides of the question, and
was always on his side whom he read last.
{93}And then he'd come home in a good or ill temper and call for his
night-cap, and pipes and tobacco, and send for some neighbours to sit
with him, and talk politics together. [_Puts on a cap, and takes the
pipes and sits down._]
"How do you do, Mr. Costive? Sit down, sit down. Ay, these times are
hard times; I can no more relish these times than I can a haunch of
venison without sweet sauce to it; but, if you remember, I told you we
should have warm work of it when the cook threw down the Kian pepper.
Ay, ay; I think I know a thing or two; I think I do, that's all. But,
Lord, what signifies what one knows? they don't mind me! You know I
{94}mentioned at our club the disturbances in America, and one of the
company took me up, and said, 'What signifies America, when we are all
in a merry cue?' So they all fell a laughing. Now there's Commons made
Lords, and there's Lords made the Lord knows what; but that's nothing to
us; they make us pay our taxes; they take care of that; ay, ay, ay, they
are sure of that. Pray what have they done for these twenty years last
past?--Why, nothing at all; they have only made a few turnpike roads,
and kept the partridges alive till September; that's all they have done,
for the good of their country. There were some great people formerly,
that lov'd their country, that did every thing for the good of their
country; there were your Alexander the Great--he lov'd his country,
and Julius Caesar lov'd his country, and Charles of Sweedland lov'd his
country, and Queen Semiramis, she lov'd her country more than any of
'em, for she invented solomon-gundy; that's the best eating in the whole
world. Now I'll shew you my plan of operations, Mr. Costive.--We'll
suppose this drop of punch here to be the main ocean, or the sea; very
well. These pieces of cork to be our men of war; very well. Now where
shall I raise my fortifications? I wish I had Mr. Major {95}Moncrieff
here; he's the best in the world at raising a fortification. Oh! I
have it. [_Breaks the pipes._] We'll suppose them to be all the strong
fortified places in the whole world; such as Fort Omoa, Tilbury Fort,
Bergen op Zoom, and Tower Ditch, and all the other fortified places all
over the world. Now I'd have all our horse-cavalry wear cork waistcoats,
and all our foot-infantry should wear air jackets. Then, sir, they'd
cross the sea before you could say Jack Robinson. And where
do you think they should land, Mr. Costive? whisper me that.
Ha!--What?--When?--How?--You don't know.--How should you!--Was you ever
in Germany or Bohemia?--Now, I have; I understands jography. Now they
should land in America, under the line, close to the south pole; there
they should land every mother's babe of 'em. Then there's the Catabaws,
and there's the Catawaws; there's the Cherokees, and there's the ruffs
and rees; they are the four great nations. Then I takes my Catabaws all
across the continent, from Jamaica to Bengal; then they should go to
the Mediterranean. You know where the Mediterranean is?--No, you
know nothing; I'll tell you; the Mediterranean is the metropolis of
Constantinople. Then I'd send a fleet to blockade {96}Paris till the
French king had given up Paul Jones; then I'd send for General
Clinton and Colonel Tarleton; and--Where was I, Mr. Costive; with
Tarleton;--Thank ye--so I was; but you are so dull, Mr Costive, you put
me out. Now I'll explain the whole affair to you; you shan't miss a word
of it. Now there is the king of Prussia and the empress of Russia,
and the nabob of Arcot, and the king of the Hottentots, are all in
the Protestant interest; they make a diversion upon all the Cham
of Tartary's back setlements; then Sir Guy Carleton comes with a
_circumbendibus_, and retakes all the islands, Rhode Island and all; and
takes 'em _here_ and _there_, and _there_ and _here_, and _every where_.
There is the whole affair explained at once to you."
This is the head of a Proud Man: all heads in that predicament are
unsound. This man was rich; and as wealth is a certain hot-bed to raise
flatterers, he had enough of them; they told him he was every thing; he
believed them, and always spoke in the first person, saying, I, I,
I--I will have it so; I know it;--I, I--which puts one in mind of a
school-boy toning out before his mistress's knees, I by itself I. Yet
there is one piece of pride which may be thought excusable; and {97}that
is, that honest exultation of heart which every public performer feels
from the approbation of his auditors; gratefully does he acknowledge
their indulgence, and with sincerity declares that the utmost exertion
of his abilities can never equal the favour of the public.
By way of Epilogue, here are two wigs. [_Takes two wigs._] This is
called the full-buckled bob, and carries a consequentially along with
it: it is worn by those people who frequent city feasts, and gorge
themselves at a Lord-Mayor's-show dinner; and, with one of these wigs
on, their double chins rested upon their breasts, and their shoulders
up, they seem as if they had eaten themselves into a {98}state of
indigestion, or else had bumpered themselves out of breath with bottled
beer. [_Puts on the wig._] "Waiter! bring me a ladleful of soup. You
dog, don't take off that haunch of venison yet!--Bring me the lamb, a
glass of currant jelly, and a clean plate. A hob-nob, sir." "With all
my heart." "Two bumpers of Madeira!--Love, health, and ready rhino, to
all the friends that you and I know."--On the contrary, these lank looks
form the half-famished face. [_Puts on the Methodist hair, and takes the
tub._]
The floor of the world is filthy, the mud of Mammon eats up all your
upper leathers, and we are all become sad soals. Brethren, (the word
brethren comes from the tabernacle, because we {99}all breathe therein),
if you are drowsy I'll rouse you, I'll beat a tattoo upon the parchment
case of your conscience, and I'll whisk the devil like a whirligig among
you. Now let me ask you a question seriously. Did you ever see any body
eat any hasty-pudding? What faces they make when it scalds their mouths!
Phoo, phoo, phoo! What faces will you all make when old Nick nicks you?
Now unto a bowl of punch I compare matrimony; there's the sweet part of
it, which is the honey-moon: then there's the largest part of it, that's
the most insipid, that comes after, and that's the water; then there's
the strong spirits, that's the husband; then there's the sour spirit,
that's the wife. But you don't mind me, no more than a dead horse does
a pair of spectacles; if you did, the sweet words which I utter would be
like a treacle posset to your palates. Do you know how many taylors
make a man?--Why nine. How many half a man?--Why four journeymen and an
apprentice. So have you all been bound 'prentices to madam Faddle, the
fashion-maker; ye have served your times out, and now you set up for
yourselves. My bowels and my small guts groan for you; as the cat on the
house-top is caterwauling, so from the top of my voice will I {100}be
bawling. Put--put some money in the plate, then your abomination shall
be scalded off like bristles from the hog's back, and ye shall be
scalped of them all as easily as I pull off this periwig.
My attempt you have heard to succeed the projector, And I tremblingly
wait your award of this lecture; No merits I plead, but what's fit for
my station, And that is the merit of your approbation. And, since for
mere mirth I exhibit this plan, Condemn, if you please--but excuse, if
you can.
END OF THE LECTURE,
AN ESSAY ON SATIRE.
{101}The vice and folly which overspread human nature first created
the satirist. We should not, therefore, attribute his severity to a
malignity of disposition, but to an exquisite sense of propriety, an
honest indignation of depravity, and a generous desire to reform the
degenerated manners of his fellow-creatures. This has been the cause
of Aristophanes censuring the pedantry and superstition of Socrates;
Horace, Persius, Martial, and Juvenal, the luxury and profligacy of the
Romans; Boileau and Molière the levity and refinement of the French;
Cervantes the romantic pride and madness of the Spanish; and Dorset,
Gldharn, Swift, Addison, Churchill, Stevens, and Foote, the variety
of vice, folly, and luxury, which we have imported from our extensive
commerce and intercourse with other nations. We should, consequently,
reverse the satirist and correct ourselves.
{102}We should not avoid him as the detecter, but as the friendly
monitor. If he speaks severe truths, we should condemn our own conduct
which gives him the power.
It has frequently been observed, that the satirist has proved more
beneficial to the correction of a state than the divine or legislator.
Indeed he seems to have been created with peculiar penetrative
faculties, and integrity of disposition, and a happy genius to display
the enormity of the features, while it corrects the corrupt exercise
of our vices. The legislator may frame laws sufficiently wise and
judicious, to check and control villany, without the power of impeding
the progress of vice and folly, while they are kept within the limits of
only injuring ourselves. For law has no power to punish us for the vices
which debilitate our constitution, destroy our substance, or degrade our
character.
Nor can religion entirely extirpate vice, no more than she can even
control folly. Her two principles, alluring to virtue by promise of
reward, and dissuading from vice by threats of punishment, extend their
influence no farther than on those whose dispositions are susceptible
of their impressions. So that we find numbers among {103}mankind whose
conduct and opinions are beyond her power. The atheist, who disbelieves
a future existence, is not likely to check the exercise of his favourite
vicious habits for any hope of reward or dread of punishment; and the
debauchee, who, though he may not deny the truth of her tenets, yet is
too much absorbed in his pleasures, to listen to her precepts, or regard
her examples. Besides, there are many so weak in their resolution as
not to be capable of breaking the fetters of habit and prepossession,
although they are, at the same time, sensible of their destructive
consequences. It is, therefore, that nature has implanted in us a sense
which tends to correct our disposition, where law and religion are seen
to have no power. This sense is a desire of public estimation, which not
only tends to give mankind perfection in every art and science, but also
to render our personal character respectable. It is this susceptibility
of shame and infamy which gives satire its efficiency.
Without this sense of ourselves, the scourge would lose its power of
chastisement. We should receive the lashes without a sense of their
pain; and without the sense of their pain we would never amend from this
affliction. From the desire of {104}being approved and noticed,
arises every effort which constitutes the variety of employments and
excellencies the world possesses. It actuates the prince and the beggar,
the peasant and the politician, the labourer and the scholar, the
mechanic and the soldier, the player and the divine. In a word, there
is not an individual in the community whose conduct is not influenced by
its dictates. It is, therefore, not surprising that mankind should be
so impressive to the power of satire, whose object is to describe their
vices and follies, for the finger of public infamy to point at their
deformities and delinquencies. Thus, where law cannot extend its awe
and authority, satire wields the scourge of disgrace; and where religion
cannot convince the atheist, attract the attention of the debauchee, or
reform those who are subject to the power of habit and fashion, satire
affords effectually her assistance. Satire reforms the drunkard, by
exposing to the view of himself and the world the brutality of his
actions and person when under the influence of intoxication. Satire
reforms, likewise, the inordinate actions of those who are not awed by
the belief of future reward and punishment, by exposing them to infamy
during their present {105}existence. And those who are subject to the
dominion of depraved habits satire awakens to a practice of reformation,
from the poignant sense of being the derision and contempt of all their
connexions; for there is no incentive so powerful to abandon pernicious
customs as the sense of present and future disgrace. We may, therefore,
conclude, that nothing tends so much to correct vice and folly as this
species of public censure. Having thus made some observations on the
general utility and necessity of satire, we shall proceed to examine
which of its species is the most likely to be effective.
The most remarkable species of satire are, the narrative, dramatic, and
picturesque; which have also their separate species peculiar to each.
The narrative contains those that either reprove with a smile or a
frown, by pourtraying the characteristics of an individual, or the
general manners of a society, people, or nation; and are either
described in verse or prose. The dramatic contains perfect resemblance,
which is described by comedy; or caricature, which is described by
farce. And the picturesque is what exercises the painter, engraver,
and sculptor. In all these species the satirist may either divert by
his humour, entertain by his wit, or torture by his severity. Each mode
{106}has its advocates. But we think that the mode should be adapted to
the nature of the vice or folly which demands correction. If the vice be
of an atrocious nature, it certainly requires that the satire be severe.
If it be of a nature that arises more from a weakness of mind than
depravity of feeling, we think it should be chastised by the lively
and pointed sarcasms of wit; and, if the failing be merely a folly,
it should only be the subject of humorous ridicule. With respect
to determining which species of satire is the most preferable, the
narrative of Horace and Juvenal, the dramatic of Aristophanes and Foote,
or the picturesque of Hogarth and Stevens; we can best form our
opinion from comparing their different defects and excellencies. As
the narrative is merely a description of manners, it is devoid of that
imitation of passion and character which gives effect to the dramatic.
But, as the language is more pointed, more energetic, and more elegant,
it certainly must impress the reader more deeply. The dramatic,
therefore, while it is calculated to affect more the spectator, is
inferior to the narrative in the closet. The picturesque is more
defective than either of the two former. It has only power to describe
the action of an instant, and {107}this without the assistance of
reflection, observation, and sentiment, which they derive from their
verbal expression.
We may, consequently, perceive that each species has defects to which
others are not liable, and excellencies which the others do not possess.
Thus it is evident that a species of satire, which could blend all the
advantages of all the three, can only be that which is adequate to the
idea of perfect satire. This kind of satire is the Lecture on Heads.
We cannot, therefore, be surprised that it should have been the most
popular exhibition of the age. The heads and their dresses composed the
picturesque: the assumption of character and dialogue by the lecturer,
composed the dramatic; and the lively description of manners, the
judicious propriety and pertinence of observation, composed the
narrative. Thus did the genius of its author invent a species of
entertainment which possessed excellencies that counterbalanced the
defects of all other satirists, produced from the age of Aristophanes,
who flourished four hundred and seven years before the Christian era,
until his own time.
Having thus enforced the utility of satire in general, and specified the
defects and properties of {108}its particular kinds, we shall proceed to
make a few observations on the peculiar merit of the Lecture on Heads.
We have already seen that it possesses every quality of all other
satires in itself: it only, therefore, remains to consider its wit,
humour, character, and apparatus; which are its essensial properties.
The wit of this Lecture is as various as the subjects which it
satirises. Its brilliancy charms, its poignancy convicts while it
chastises, and its pertinency always adorns the sentiment or observation
it would illustrate. The variety of its species always entertains, but
never satiates. Even puns please, from the aptness and pleasantry of
their conceits. His wit is so predominant, that, if we may be allowed
the expression, it is discovered in his silence. A most striking example
of this is where he uses the rhetorical figure called the Aposiopesis,
or suppression, in displaying the head of a prostitute: he introduces
it with saying, "This is the head of a woman of the town, or a ------;
but, whatever other title the lady may have, we are not entitled here to
take notice of it." Nothing can be more delicate than this suppression:
it displays a tenderness and liberality to the frailty of female nature,
which does as much credit to his feelings as to his genius.
{109}We know not a more happy instance of giving expression to silence,
or giving an idea without verbal assistance, than is contained in the
above character.
The humour of this Lecture is grotesque, lively, and delicate; it
varies its form with the character it ridicules. Nothing can surpass the
humorous whimsicality of his situations and expressions; for they please
as much from the fanciful manner in which he places the ridiculous to
our view, as from the resemblance with which he so naturally describes
the prototype. His description of a London Blood cannot fail to excite
laughter in the features of the greatest cynic. The natural propensity
which mankind has to laugh at mischief never was more happily gratified
than from his describing this character _pushing a blind horse into a
china-shop_. Had he chosen any other animal, the effect would not have
been so great on his audience. If it had been an ass, it would have
been attended with an idea of the obstinacy and the reluctance of this
animal, which would have suggested its being too difficult; it would
not, therefore, have excited, in any manner, the risible faculty. Had
it been an ox, it would have {110}connected with it the idea of too much
fury and devastation to entertain with the picture. But choosing a blind
horse, who, from his loss of sight and natural docility, may be
easily supposed to be led into such a situation; the mind adopts the
credibility, and enjoys the whimsical and mischievous consequence, while
it condemns the folly and puerility of the Blood who occasioned it.
It is this peculiar faculty of choice of subjects, situation, and
assemblage, which constitutes the excellence of a humorist, which
Stevens possessed in a most eminent degree; for he displays it in almost
every line of his Lecture. Indeed, in this art we know of none superior
to him, except it be Shakespeare in some of his comedies, which are
inimitable in every thing which relates to the _vis comica_. With
respect to the characters of this Lecture, they are such as will be
found to exist with human nature; except a few, who are described as
the devotees to particular fashions; and such will always be found while
vanity, luxury, and dissipation, exist in society. Therefore, from this
universality of character, his Lecture will ever be worthy the
perusal of every person who would wish to avoid being contemptible or
ridiculous: for {111}there is no person but may be liable to some vice
or folly, which he will find exposed by this masterly, pleasant, and
original, satirist.
His characters compose every part of the community. The old and young,
rich and poor, male and female, married and unmarried, and those
of every learned and unlearned profession, are the subjects of his
whimsical, yet judicious and pertinent, censure.
Having thus made some general remarks on the wit, humour, and character,
of this Lecture, it only remains for us to say a few words on its
apparatus. This was merely the picturesque part of the satire, which
gave that effect to the _tout ensemble_, which it would not otherwise
have produced as a representation. It was by this appendage that Mr.
Stevens was enabled to afford entertainment for nearly three hours
without a change of person, although he changed his appearance. The
apparatus was not only an ornament, but a visible illustration of what
would otherwise have been only mental. It was, therefore, indispensable
as a stage exhibition; for, to entertain an audience, the sight must be
exercised as well as the mind. It is necessary to prevent languor, which
will always be the consequence where reflection is {112}more exerted
than sensation. Thus, in every public exhibition, the senses of hearing
and seeing should be gratified in every manner that is consistent with
the nature of what is produced for the observation of the mind. But
although this apparatus was necessary as a representation, it may be
dispensed with as a closet satire: for, not being confined to read two
or three hours, we can shut the book whenever it becomes uninteresting,
which we cannot at a public lecture. We are then confined to one place
and one object during its performance. It is this which renders every
lecture, that is not accompanied by some apparatus, so tiresome to the
auditor. We, therefore, read such lectures as are upon literary Subjects
with more pleasure than we hear them delivered. But lectures on anatomy,
experimental philosophy, astronomy, and every other that admits of
apparatus, we hear and see with much more pleasure and improvement than
when we read them. In regard to the Lecture on Heads, as the apparatus
is not necessary to make the reader comprehend the force and meaning of
the satire more than he can from the words themselves, we make no doubt
but its perusal will afford such pleasure as to increase its estimation,
if possible, {113}with the public. From a more close attention they will
discover beauties of wit, humour, character, and imitation, that were
not perceived during its representation: for the minds of an audience
are very susceptible of being diverted from attending to what is
represented before them.
The company whom they are with, or the attractions of others whom they
see among an audience, frequently suspend the attention while it loses
the greatest beauties of the performance. But, when we are reading a
performance in our closet, whatever is capable of pleasing from its
novelty, propriety, or excellence, is not liable to be lost from any
obstruction or interference by other objects.
Consciousness, therefore, of the entertainment this Lecture will afford
to the reader, as well as the auditor and spectator, is the chief
inducement of submitting it thus, in its only original state, for his
approbation.
End of Project Gutenberg's A Lecture On Heads, by Geo. Alex. Stevens