"The ludicrous has its place in the Universe; it is not a human invention,
but one of the Divine ideas, illustrated in the practical jokes of kittens
and monkeys, long before Aristophanes or Shakespeare."--HOLMES.
"TOUCHES OF NATURE."
"To explain the nature of laughter and tears is to account for the
condition of human life; for it is in a manner compounded of these
two. It is tragedy or comedy, sad or merry, as it happens."--HAZLITT.
"One touch of nature," says Shakespeare, "makes the whole world kin;" but
the great dramatist did not define exactly what he meant by "touch of
nature," and the critics of many generations have been at war over the
question. Perhaps he could not have told us, even if he had tried,--any
more than the critics can tell us. When Democritus was asked his
definition of a man, his only reply was, "A man is that which we all see
and know." Further than this the philosopher could not proceed. But while
Shakespeare has not given us a definition, he has given us an
illustration:
"One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,--
That all, with one consent, praise new-born gauds,
Tho' they are made and moulded of things past;
And give to dust that is a little gilt
More laud than gilt o'erdusted."
The whole world is kin in this, that all with one consent inexcusably
forget the substantial past and praise the present folly, if that folly be
well tricked out. Humanity proves its oneness by its foibles as well as by
its virtues. "Foolery, sir, doth walk about the orb; like the sun it
shineth everywhere." Things deserving of laughter and things intended to
provoke it have always been happening; and the faculties by which men
perceive the foolish and ludicrous have always existed in human nature.
"Quips and cranks and wanton wiles,
Nods and becks and wreathed smiles,
Sport that wrinkled care derides,
And laughter holding both his sides,"--
all these were in the past as well as in the present. They are "touches of
nature" that "make the whole world kin."
The statement was made in the preceding chapter that the writers of the
Bible, especially of the historical books, drew faithfully from real life,
and sketched manners and traits as they found them. They neither smoothed
over nor concealed anything. They were absolutely frank. This fidelity to
nature made it inevitable that the writers should now and then depict the
ludicrous side of life and character, describe grotesque situations and
paint amusing scenes. These are not uproariously funny, they will not
provoke boisterous merriment, any more than will a page of Addison; but
they are none the less specimens of genuine humor. Indeed, Carlyle reminds
us that "true humor springs not more from the head than from the heart; it
issues not in laughter, but in smiles that lie far deeper."
We may be sure that all life from the very beginning has had its humorous
no less than its serious side. If any record had been kept, we should no
doubt find that Adam and Eve had their jokes about the apples--it is
universally assumed that they _were_ apples--on that forbidden tree, and
that they were quite as good as any jokes that have been made about those
same apples in more recent years. The masons and bricklayers on the tower
of Babel no doubt poked their thumbs into each other's ribs and slapped
each other on the back to emphasize their rude jokes about the late "wet
spell," and wondered how long it would take to get to Heaven with their
building. And we imagine that even during the flood itself there were
sanguine souls who took the whole matter philosophically, declaring that
'it never rained long when the clouds looked _that_ way and the wind was
in _that_ direction.' The Israelites, we suspect, lightened their bondage
in Egypt by mimicking the pompous manners of their hated taskmasters and
ridiculing the fools who thought that bricks could be made without straw.
And the grimmest Egyptian mummy that now graces a museum or helps to
fertilize the wheat-fields of the West once wore a smile or grin upon his
leathern face as he related to a brother mummy how Pharoah made sport of
the Israelites by promising to "let them go," and then when they were all
on tip-toe with expectation, countermanding the order. Then they would
both shake their heads and chuckle with delight over the pleasant humor of
their monarch and declare that 'Pharoah was in high spirits to-day.' Thus
the world has rolled and chirruped and cackled on since the time when man
emerged from the animal. And Holmes suggests, in our motto, that the sense
of humor was in the animal before man.