"Nor foolish talking, nor jesting, which are not convenient."--
Ephes. v.4.
Moral and political aphorisms are seldom couched in such terms that
they should be taken as they sound precisely, or according to the
widest extent of signification; but do commonly need exposition, and
admit exception: otherwise frequently they would not only clash
with reason and experience, but interfere, thwart, and supplant one
another. The best masters of such wisdom are wont to interdict
things, apt by unseasonable or excessive use to be perverted, in
general forms of speech, leaving the restrictions, which the case
may require or bear, to be made by the hearer's or interpreter's
discretion; whence many seemingly formal prohibitions are to be
received only as sober cautions. This observation may be
particularly supposed applicable to this precept of St. Paul, which
seemeth universally to forbid a practice commended (in some cases
and degrees) by philosophers as virtuous, not disallowed by reason,
commonly affected by men, often used by wise and good persons; from
which consequently, if our religion did wholly debar us, it would
seem chargeable with somewhat too uncouth austerity and sourness:
from imputations of which kind as in its temper and frame it is
really most free (it never quenching natural light or cancelling the
dictates of sound reason, but confirming and improving them); so it
carefully declineth them, enjoining us that "if there be any things"
[Greek] ("lovely," or grateful to men), "any things" [Greek] ("of
good report" and repute), "if there be any virtue and any praise"
(anything in the common apprehensions of men held worthy and
laudable), we should "mind those things," that is, should yield them
a regard answerable to the esteem they carry among rational and
sober persons.
Whence it may seem requisite so to interpret and determine St.
Paul's meaning here concerning eutrapelia (that is, facetious
speech, or raillery, by our translators rendered "jesting"), that he
may consist with himself, and be reconciled to Aristotle, who
placeth this practice in the rank of virtues; or that religion and
reason may well accord in the case: supposing that, if there be any
kind of facetiousness innocent and reasonable, conformable to good
manners (regulated by common sense, and consistent with the tenor of
Christian duty, that is, not transgressing the bounds of piety,
charity, and sobriety), St. Paul did not intend to discountenance or
prohibit that kind.
For thus expounding and limiting his intent we have some warrant
from himself, some fair intimations in the words here. For first,
what sort of facetious speech he aimeth at, he doth imply by the
fellow he coupleth therewith; [Greek], saith he, [Greek] (foolish
talking, or facetiousness): such facetiousness therefore he
toucheth as doth include folly, in the matter or manner thereof.
Then he further determineth it, by adjoining a peculiar quality
thereof, unprofitableness, or impertinency; [Greek] (which are not
pertinent), or conducible to any good purpose: whence may be
collected that it is a frivolous and idle sort of facetiousness
which he condemneth.
But, however, manifest it is that some kind thereof he doth
earnestly forbid: whence, in order to the guidance of our practice,
it is needful to distinguish the kinds, severing that which is
allowable from that which is unlawful; that so we may be satisfied
in the case, and not on the one hand ignorantly transgress our duty,
nor on the other trouble ourselves with scruples, others with
censures, upon the use of warrantable liberty therein.
And such a resolution seemeth indeed especially needful in this our
age (this pleasant and jocular age) which is so infinitely addicted
to this sort of speaking, that it scarce doth affect or prize
anything near so much; all reputation appearing now to veil and
stoop to that of being a wit: to be learned, to be wise, to be
good, are nothing in comparison thereto; even to be noble and rich
are inferior things, and afford no such glory. Many at least (to
purchase this glory, to be deemed considerable in this faculty, and
enrolled among the wits) do not only make shipwreck of conscience,
abandon virtue, and forfeit all pretences to wisdom; but neglect
their estates, and prostitute their honour: so to the private
damage of many particular persons, and with no small prejudice to
the public, are our times possessed and transported with this
humour. To repress the excess and extravagance whereof, nothing in
way of discourse can serve better than a plain declaration when and
how such a practice is allowable or tolerable; when it is wicked and
vain, unworthy of a man endued with reason, and pretending to
honesty or honour.
This I shall in some measure endeavour to perform.
But first it may be demanded what the thing we speak of is, or what
this facetiousness doth import? To which question I might reply as
Democritus did to him that asked the definition of a man, "'Tis that
which we all see and know": any one better apprehends what it is by
acquaintance than I can inform him by description. It is indeed a
thing so versatile and multiform, appearing in so many shapes, so
many postures, so many garbs, so variously apprehended by several
eyes and judgments, that it seemeth no less hard to settle a clear
and certain notion thereof, than to make a portrait of Proteus, or
to define the figure of the fleeting air. Sometimes it lieth in pat
allusion to a known story, or in seasonable application of a trivial
saying, or in forging an apposite tale: sometimes it playeth in
words and phrases, taking advantage from the ambiguity of their
sense, or the affinity of their sound: sometimes it is wrapped in a
dress of humorous expression; sometimes it lurketh under an odd
similitude; sometimes it is lodged in a sly question, in a smart
answer, in a quirkish reason, in a shrewd intimation, in cunningly
diverting, or cleverly retorting an objection: sometimes it is
couched in a bold scheme of speech, in a tart irony, in a lusty
hyperbole, in a startling metaphor, in a plausible reconciling of
contradictions, or in acute nonsense: sometimes a scenical
representation of persons or things, a counterfeit speech, a mimical
look or gesture passeth for it: sometimes an affected simplicity,
sometimes a presumptuous bluntness giveth it being; sometimes it
riseth from a lucky hitting upon what is strange, sometimes from a
crafty wresting obvious matter to the purpose: often it consisteth
in one knows not what, and springeth up one can hardly tell how.
Its ways are unaccountable and inexplicable, being answerable to the
numberless rovings of fancy and windings of language. It is in
short, a manner of speaking out of the simple and plain way (such as
reason teacheth and proveth things by), which by a pretty surprising
uncouthness in conceit or expression doth affect and amuse the
fancy, stirring in it some wonder, and breeding some delight
thereto. It raiseth admiration, as signifying a nimble sagacity of
apprehension, a special felicity of invention, a vivacity of spirit,
and reach of wit more than vulgar: it seeming to argue a rare
quickness of parts, that one can fetch in remote conceits
applicable; a notable skill, that he can dexterously accommodate
them to the purpose before him; together with a lively briskness of
humour, not apt to damp those sportful flashes of imagination.
(Whence in Aristotle such persons are termed [Greek], dexterous men;
and [Greek], men of facile or versatile manners, who can easily turn
themselves to all things, or turn all things to themselves.) It also
procureth delight, by gratifying curiosity with its rareness or
semblance of difficulty (as monsters, not for their beauty, but
their rarety; as juggling tricks, not for their use, but their
abstruseness, are beheld with pleasure) by diverting the mind from
its road of serious thoughts; by instilling gaiety and airiness of
spirit; by provoking to such dispositions of spirit in way of
emulation or complaisance; and by seasoning matters, otherwise
distasteful or insipid, with an unusual, and thence grateful tang.
But saying no more concerning what it is, and leaving it to your
imagination and experience to supply the defect of such explication,
I shall address myself to show, first, when and how such a manner of
speaking may be allowed; then, in what matters and ways it should be
condemned.
1. Such facetiousness is not absolutely unreasonable or unlawful,
which ministereth harmless divertisement, and delight to
conversation (harmless, I say, that is, not entrenching upon piety,
not infringing charity or justice, not disturbing peace). For
Christianity is not so tetrical, so harsh, so envious, as to bar us
continually from innocent, much less from wholesome and useful
pleasure, such as human life doth need or require. And if jocular
discourse may serve to good purposes of this kind; if it may be apt
to raise our drooping spirits, to allay our irksome cares, to whet
our blunted industry, to recreate our minds being tired and cloyed
with graver occupations; if it may breed alacrity, or maintain good
humour among us; if it may conduce to sweeten conversation and
endear society; then is it not inconvenient, or unprofitable. If
for those ends we may use other recreations, employing on them our
ears and eyes, our hands and feet, our other instruments of sense
and motion, why may we not as well to them accommodate our organs of
speech and interior sense? Why should those games which excite our
wits and fancies be less reasonable than those whereby our grosser
parts and faculties are exercised? Yea, why are not those more
reasonable, since they are performed in a manly way, and have in
them a smack of reason; feeling also they may be so managed, as not
only to divert and please, but to improve and profit the mind,
rousing and quickening it, yea sometimes enlightening and
instructing it, by good sense conveyed in jocular expression?
It would surely be hard that we should be tied ever to knit the
brow, and squeeze the brain (to be always sadly dumpish, or
seriously pensive), that all divertisement of mirth and pleasantness
should be shut out of conversation; and how can we better relieve
our minds, or relax our thoughts, how can we be more ingenuously
cheerful, in what more kindly way can we exhilarate ourselves and
others, than by thus sacrificing to the Graces, as the ancients
called it? Are not some persons always, and all persons sometimes,
incapable otherwise to divert themselves, than by such discourse?
Shall we, I say, have no recreation? or must our recreations be ever
clownish, or childish, consisting merely in rustical efforts, or in
petty sleights of bodily strength and activity? Were we, in fine,
obliged ever to talk like philosophers, assigning dry reasons for
everything, and dropping grave sentences upon all occasions, would
it not much deaden human life, and make ordinary conversation
exceedingly to languish? Facetiousness therefore in such cases, and
to such purposes, may be allowable.
2. Facetiousness is allowable when it is the most proper instrument
of exposing things apparently base and vile to due contempt. It is
many times expedient, that things really ridiculous should appear
such, that they may be sufficiently loathed and shunned; and to
render them such is the part of a facetious wit, and usually can
only be compassed thereby. When to impugn them with down-right
reason, or to check them by serious discourse, would signify
nothing, then representing them in a shape strangely ugly to the
fancy, and thereby raising derision at them, may effectually
discountenance them. Thus did the prophet Elias expose the wicked
superstition of those who worshipped Baal: "Elias (saith the text)
mocked them, and said, 'Cry aloud; for he is a god, either he is
talking, or he is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or peradventure
he sleeps, and must be awaked.'" By which one pregnant instance it
appeareth that reasoning pleasantly-abusive in some cases may be
useful. The Holy Scripture doth not indeed use it frequently (it
not suiting the Divine simplicity and stately gravity thereof to do
so); yet its condescension thereto at any time sufficiently doth
authorise a cautious use thereof. When sarcastic twitches are
needful to pierce the thick skins of men, to correct their lethargic
stupidity, to rouse them out of their drowsy negligence, then may
they well be applied when plain declarations will not enlighten
people to discern the truth and weight of things, and blunt
arguments will not penetrate to convince or persuade them to their
duty, then doth reason freely resign its place to wit, allowing it
to undertake its work of instruction and reproof.
3. Facetious discourse particularly may be commodious for reproving
some vices, and reclaiming some persons (as salt for cleansing and
curing some sores). It commonly procureth a more easy access to the
ears of men, and worketh a stronger impression on their hearts, than
other discourse could do. Many who will not stand a direct reproof,
and cannot abide to be plainly admonished of their fault, will yet
endure to be pleasantly rubbed, and will patiently bear a jocund
wipe; though they abominate all language purely bitter or sour, yet
they can relish discourse having in it a pleasant tartness. You
must not chide them as their master, but you may gibe with them as
their companion. If you do that, they will take you for pragmatical
and haughty; this they may interpret friendship and freedom. Most
men are of that temper; and particularly the genius of divers
persons, whose opinions and practices we should strive to correct,
doth require not a grave and severe, but a free and merry way of
treating them. For what can be more unsuitable and unpromising,
than to seem serious with those who are not so themselves, or demure
with the scornful? If we design either to please or vex them into
better manners, we must be as sportful in a manner, or as
contemptuous as themselves. If we mean to be heard by them, we must
talk in their own fashion, with humour and jollity; if we will
instruct them, we must withal somewhat divert them: we must seem to
play with them if we think to convey any sober thoughts into them.
They scorn to be formally advised or taught; but they may perhaps be
slily laughed and lured into a better mind. If by such complaisance
we can inveigle those dottrels to hearken to us, we may induce them
to consider farther, and give reason some competent scope, some fair
play with them. Good reason may be apparelled in the garb of wit,
and therein will securely pass whither in its native homeliness it
could never arrive: and being come thither, it with especial
advantage may impress good advice, making an offender more clearly
to see, and more deeply to feel his miscarriage; being represented
to his fancy in a strain somewhat rare and remarkable, yet not so
fierce and frightful. The severity of reproof is tempered, and the
reprover's anger disguised thereby. The guilty person cannot but
observe that he who thus reprehends him is not disturbed or out of
humour, and that he rather pitieth than hateth him; which breedeth a
veneration to him, and imparteth no small efficacy to his wholesome
suggestions. Such a reprehension, while it forceth a smile without,
doth work remorse within; while it seemeth to tickle the ear, doth
sting the heart. In fine, many whose foreheads are brazed and
hearts steeled against all blame, are yet not of proof against
derision; divers, who never will be reasoned, may be rallied in
better order: in which cases raillery, as an instrument of so
important good, as a servant of the best charity, may be allowed.
4. Some errors likewise in this way may be most properly and most
successfully confuted; such as deserve not, and hardly can bear a
serious and solid confutation. He that will contest things
apparently decided by sense and experience, or who disavows clear
principles of reason, approved by general consent and the common
sense of men, what other hopeful way is there of proceeding with
him, than pleasantly to explode his conceits? To dispute seriously
with him were trifling; to trifle with him is the proper course.
Since he rejecteth the grounds of reasoning, 'tis vain to be in
earnest; what then remains but to jest with him? To deal seriously
were to yield too much respect to such a baffler, and too much
weight to his fancies; to raise the man too high in his courage and
conceit; to make his pretences seem worthy the considering and
canvassing. Briefly, perverse obstinacy is more easily quelled,
petulant impudence is sooner dashed, sophistical captiousness is
more safely eluded, sceptical wantonness is more surely confounded
in this than in the simple way of discourse.
5. This way is also commonly the best way of defence against unjust
reproach and obloquy. To yield to a slanderous reviler a serious
reply, or to make a formal plea against his charge, doth seem to
imply that we much consider or deeply resent it; whereas by pleasant
reflection on it we signify the matter only deserves contempt, and
that we take ourselves unconcerned therein. So easily without care
or trouble may the brunts of malice be declined or repelled.
6. This may be allowed in way of counterbalancing and in compliance
to the fashion of others. It would be a disadvantage unto truth and
virtue if their defenders were barred from the use of this weapon,
since it is that especially whereby the patrons of error and vice do
maintain and propagate them. They being destitute of good reason,
do usually recommend their absurd and pestilent notions by a
pleasantness of conceit and expression, bewitching the fancies of
shallow hearers, and inveigling heedless persons to a liking of
them; and if, for reclaiming such people, the folly of those
seducers may in like manner be displayed as ridiculous and odious,
why should that advantage be refused? It is wit that wageth the war
against reason, against virtue, against religion; wit alone it is
that perverteth so many, and so greatly corrupteth the world. It
may, therefore, be needful, in our warfare for those dearest
concerns, to sort the manner of our fighting with that of our
adversaries, and with the same kind of arms to protect goodness,
whereby they do assail it. If wit may happily serve under the
banner of truth and virtue, we may impress it for that service; and
good it were to rescue so worthy a faculty from so vile abuse. It
is the right of reason and piety to command that and all other
endowments; folly and impiety do only usurp them. Just and fit
therefore it is to wrest them out of so bad hands, to revoke them to
their right use and duty.
It doth especially seem requisite to do it in this age, wherein
plain reason is deemed a dull and heavy thing. When the mental
appetite of men is become like the corporal, and cannot relish any
food without some piquant sauce, so that people will rather starve
than live on solid fare; when substantial and sound discourse
findeth small attention or acceptance; in such a time, he that can,
may in complaisance, and for fashion's sake, vouchsafe to be
facetious; an ingenious vein coupled with an honest mind may be a
good talent; he shall employ wit commendably who by it can further
the interests of goodness, alluring men first to listen, then
inducing them to consent unto its wholesome dictates and precepts.
Since men are so irreclaimably disposed to mirth and laughter, it
may be well to set them in the right pin, to divert their humour
into the proper channel, that they may please themselves in deriding
things which deserve it, ceasing to laugh at that which requireth
reverence or horror.
It may also be expedient to put the world out of conceit that all
sober and good men are a sort of such lumpish or sour people that
they can utter nothing but flat and drowsy stuff, by showing them
that such persons, when they see cause, in condescension, can be as
brisk and smart as themselves; when they please, can speak
pleasantly and wittily, as well as gravely and judiciously. This
way at least, in respect to the various palates of men, may for
variety sake be sometimes attempted, when other means do fail; when
many strict and subtle arguings, many zealous declamations, many
wholesome serious discourses have been spent, without effecting the
extirpation of bad principles, or conversion of those who abet them;
this course may be tried, and some perhaps may be reclaimed thereby.
7. Furthermore, the warrantableness of this practice in some cases
may be inferred from a parity of reason, in this manner. If it be
lawful (as by the best authorities it plainly doth appear to be), in
using rhetorical schemes, poetical strains, involutions of sense in
allegories, fables, parables, and riddles, to discoast from the
plain and simple way of speech, why may not facetiousness, issuing
from the same principles, directed to the same ends, serving to like
purposes, be likewise used blamelessly? If those exorbitancies of
speech may be accommodated to instill good doctrine into the head,
to excite good passions in the heart, to illustrate and adorn the
truth, in a delightful and taking way, and facetious discourse be
sometimes notoriously conducible to the same ends, why, they being
retained, should it be rejected, especially considering how
difficult often it may be to distinguish those forms of discourse
from this, or exactly to define the limits which sever rhetoric and
raillery. Some elegant figures and trophies of rhetoric (biting
sarcasms, sly ironies, strong metaphors, lofty hyperboles,
paronomasies, oxymorons, and the like, frequently used by the best
speakers, and not seldom even by sacred writers) do lie very near
upon the confines of jocularity, and are not easily differenced from
those sallies of wit wherein the lepid way doth consist: so that
were this wholly culpable, it would be matter of scruple whether one
hath committed a fault or no when he meant only to play the orator
or the poet; and hard surely it would be to find a judge who could
precisely set out the difference between a jest and a flourish.
8. I shall only add, that of old even the sagest and gravest
persons (persons of most rigid and severe virtue) did much affect
this kind of discourse, and did apply it to noble purposes. The
great introducer of moral wisdom among the pagans did practise it so
much (by it repressing the windy pride and fallacious vanity of
sophisters in his time), that he thereby got the name of [Greek],
the droll; and the rest of those who pursued his design do, by
numberless stories and apophthegms recorded of them, appear well
skilled and much delighted in this way. Many great princes (as
Augustus Caesar, for one, many of whose jests are extant in
Macrobius), many grave statesmen (as Cicero particularly, who
composed several books of jests), many famous captains (as Fabius,
M. Cato the Censor, Scipio Africanus, Epaminondas, Themistocles,
Phocion, and many others, whose witty sayings together with their
martial exploits are reported by historians), have pleased
themselves herein, and made it a condiment of their weighty
businesses. So that practising thus (within certain rule and
compass), we cannot err without great patterns, and mighty patrons.
9. In fine, since it cannot be shown that such a sportfulness of
wit and fancy doth contain an intrinsic and inseparable turpitude;
since it may be so cleanly, handsomely, and innocently used, as not
to defile or discompose the mind of the speaker, nor to wrong or
harm the hearer, nor to derogate from any worthy subject of
discourse, nor to infringe decency, to disturb peace, to violate any
of the grand duties incumbent on us (piety, charity, justice,
sobriety), but rather sometimes may yield advantage in those
respects; it cannot well absolutely and universally be condemned:
and when not used upon improper matter, in an unfit manner, with
excessive measure, at undue season, to evil purpose, it may be
allowed. It is bad objects, or bad adjuncts, which do spoil its
indifference and innocence; it is the abuse thereof, to which (as
all pleasant things are dangerous, and apt to degenerate into baits
of intemperance and excess) it is very liable, that corrupteth it;
and seemeth to be the ground why in so general terms it is
prohibited by the Apostle. Which prohibition to what cases, or what
sorts of jesting it extendeth, we come now to declare.
II. 1. All profane jesting, all speaking loosely and wantonly
about holy things (things nearly related to God and religion),
making such things the matters of sport and mockery, playing and
trifling with them, is certainly prohibited, as an intolerably vain
and wicked practice. It is an infallible sign of a vain and light
spirit, which considereth little, and cannot distinguish things, to
talk slightly concerning persons of high dignity, to whom especial
respect is due; or about matters of great importance, which deserve
very serious consideration. No man speaketh, or should speak, of
his prince, that which he hath not weighed whether it will consist
with that veneration which should be preserved inviolate to him.
And is not the same, is not much greater care to be used in regard
to the incomparably great and glorious Majesty of Heaven? Yes,
surely, as we should not without great awe think of Him; so we
should not presume to mention His name, His word, His institutions,
anything immediately belonging to Him, without profoundest reverence
and dread. It is the most enormous sauciness that can be imagined,
to speak petulantly or pertly concerning Him; especially considering
that whatever we do say about Him, we do utter it in His presence,
and to His very face. "For there is not," as the holy psalmist
considered, "a word in my tongue, but lo, O Lord, thou knowest it
altogether." No man also hath the heart to droll, or thinks
raillery convenient, in cases nearly touching his life, his health,
his estate, or his fame: and are the true life and health of our
soul, are interests in God's favour and mercy, are everlasting glory
and bliss affairs of less moment? are the treasures and joys of
paradise, or the damages and torments in hell, more jesting matters?
No, certainly no: in all reason therefore it becometh us, and it
infinitely concerneth us, whenever we think of these things, to be
in best earnest, always to speak of them in most sober sadness.
The proper objects of common mirth and sportful divertisement are
mean and petty matters; anything at least is by playing therewith
made such: great things are thereby diminished and debased;
especially sacred things do grievously suffer thence, being with
extreme indecency and indignity depressed beneath themselves, when
they become the subjects of flashy wit, or the entertainments of
frothy merriment: to sacrifice their honour to our vain pleasure,
being like the ridiculous fondness of that people which, as AElian
reporteth, worshipping a fly, did offer up an ox thereto. These
things were by God instituted, and proposed to us for purposes quite
different; to compose our hearts, and settle our fancies in a most
serious frame; to breed inward satisfaction, and joy purely
spiritual; to exercise our most solemn thoughts, and employ our
gravest discourses: all our speech therefore about them should be
wholesome, apt to afford good instruction, or to excite good
affections; "good," as St. Paul speaketh, "for the use of edifying,
that it may minister grace unto the hearers."
If we must be facetious and merry, the field is wide and spacious;
there are matters enough in the world besides these most august and
dreadful things, to try our faculties and please our humour with;
everywhere light and ludicrous things occur; it therefore doth argue
a marvellous poverty of wit, and barrenness of invention (no less
than a strange defect of goodness, and want of discretion), in those
who can devise no other subjects to frolic upon besides these, of
all most improper and perilous; who cannot seem ingenious under the
charge of so highly trespassing upon decency, disclaiming wisdom,
wounding the ears of others, and their own consciences. Seem
ingenious, I say; for seldom those persons really are such, or are
capable to discover any wit in a wise and manly way. 'Tis not the
excellency of their fancies, which in themselves are usually sorry
and insipid enough, but the uncouthness of their presumption; not
their extraordinary wit, but their prodigious rashness, which is to
be admired. They are gazed on, as the doers of bold tricks, who
dare perform that which no sober man will attempt: they do indeed
rather deserve themselves to be laughed at, than their conceits.
For what can be more ridiculous than we do make ourselves, when we
thus fiddle and fool with our own souls; when, to make vain people
merry, we incense God's earnest displeasure; when, to raise a fit of
present laughter, we expose ourselves to endless wailing and woe;
when, to be reckoned wits, we prove ourselves stark wild? Surely to
this case we may accommodate that of a truly great wit, King
Solomon: "I said of laughter, It is mad; and of mirth, What doeth
it?"
2. All injurious, abusive, scurrilous jesting, which causelessly or
needlessly tendeth to the disgrace, damage, vexation, or prejudice
in any kind of our neighbour (provoking his displeasure, grating on
his modesty, stirring passion in him), is also prohibited. When
men, to raise an admiration of their wit, to please themselves, or
gratify the humours of other men, do expose their neighbour to scorn
and contempt, making ignominious reflections upon his person and his
actions, taunting his real imperfections, or fastening imaginary
ones upon him, they transgress their duty, and abuse their wits;
'tis not urbanity, or genuine facetiousness, but uncivil rudeness or
vile malignity. To do thus, as it is the office of mean and base
spirits (unfit for any worthy or weighty employments), so it is full
of inhumanity, of iniquity, of indecency and folly. For the
weaknesses of men, of what kind soever (natural or moral, in quality
or in act), considering whence they spring, and how much we are all
subject to them, and do need excuse for them, do in equity challenge
compassion to be had of them; not complacency to be taken in them,
or mirth drawn from them; they, in respect to common humanity,
should rather be studiously connived at, and concealed, or mildly
excused, than wilfully laid open, and wantonly descanted upon; they
rather are to be deplored secretly, than openly derided.
The reputation of men is too noble a sacrifice to be offered up to
vainglory, fond pleasure, or ill-humour; it is a good far more dear
and precious, than to be prostituted for idle sport and
divertisement. It becometh us not to trifle with that which in
common estimation is of so great moment--to play rudely with a thing
so very brittle, yet of so vast price; which being once broken or
cracked, it is very hard and scarce possible to repair. A small,
transient pleasure, a tickling the ears, wagging the lungs, forming
the face into a smile, a giggle, or a hum, are not to be purchased
with the grievous distaste and smart, perhaps with the real damage
and mischief of our neighbour, which attend upon contempt. This is
not jesting, surely, but bad earnest; 'tis wild mirth, which is the
mother of grief to those whom we should tenderly love; 'tis
unnatural sport, which breedeth displeasure in them whose delight it
should promote, whose liking it should procure: it crosseth the
nature and design of this way of speaking, which is to cement and
ingratiate society, to render conversation pleasant and sprightly,
for mutual satisfaction and comfort.
True festivity is called salt, and such it should be, giving a smart
but savoury relish to discourse; exciting an appetite, not
irritating disgust; cleansing sometimes, but never creating a sore:
and [Greek], (if it become thus insipid), or unsavoury, it is
therefore good for nothing, but to be cast out, and trodden under
foot of men. Such jesting which doth not season wholesome or
harmless discourse, but giveth a haut gout to putrid and poisonous
stuff, gratifying distempered palates and corrupt stomachs, is
indeed odious and despicable folly, to be cast out with loathing, to
be trodden under foot with contempt. If a man offends in this sort,
to please himself, 'tis scurvy malignity; if to delight others, 'tis
base servility and flattery: upon the first score he is a buffoon
to himself; upon the last, a fool to others. And well in common
speech are such practisers so termed, the grounds of that practice
being so vain, and the effect so unhappy. The heart of fools, saith
the wise man, is in the house of mirth; meaning, it seems,
especially such hurtfully wanton mirth: for it is (as he further
telleth us) the property of fools to delight in doing harm ("It is
as sport to a fool to do mischief"). Is it not in earnest most
palpable folly, for so mean ends to do so great harm; to disoblige
men in sport; to lose friends and get enemies for a conceit; out of
a light humour to provoke fierce wrath, and breed tough hatred; to
engage one's self consequently very far in strife, danger, and
trouble? No way certainly is more apt to produce such effects than
this; nothing more speedily inflameth, or more thoroughly engageth
men, or sticketh longer in men's hearts and memories, than bitter
taunts and scoffs: whence this honey soon turns into gall; these
jolly comedies do commonly terminate in woeful tragedies.
Especially this scurrilous and scoffing way is then most detestable
when it not only exposeth the blemishes and infirmities of men, but
abuseth piety and virtue themselves; flouting persons for their
constancy in devotion, or their strict adherence to a conscientious
practice of duty; aiming to effect that which Job complaineth of,
"The just upright man is laughed to scorn;" resembling those whom
the psalmist thus describeth, "Who whet their tongue like a sword,
and bend their arrows, even bitter words, that they may shoot in
secret at the perfect;" serving good men as Jeremy was served--"The
word of the Lord," saith he, "was made a reproach unto me, and a
derision daily."
This practice doth evidently in the highest degree tend to the
disparagement and discouragement of goodness; aiming to expose it,
and to render men ashamed thereof; and it manifestly proceedeth from
a desperate corruption of mind, from a mind hardened and emboldened,
sold and enslaved to wickedness: whence they who deal therein are
in Holy Scripture represented as egregious sinners, or persons
superlatively wicked, under the name of scorners ([Greek], pests, or
pestilent men, the Greek translators call them, properly enough in
regard to the effects of their practice); concerning whom the wise
man (signifying how God will meet with them in their own way) saith,
"Surely the Lord scorneth the scorners." '[Greek] (scoffers, or
mockers), St. Peter termeth them, who walk according to their own
lusts; who not being willing to practise, are ready to deride
virtue; thereby striving to seduce others into their pernicious
courses.
This offence also proportionably groweth more criminal as it
presumeth to reach persons eminent in dignity or worth, unto whom
special veneration is appropriate. This adjoineth sauciness to
scurrility, and advanceth the wrong thereof into a kind of
sacrilege. 'Tis not only injustice, but profaneness, to abuse the
gods. Their station is a sanctuary from all irreverence and
reproach; they are seated on high, that we may only look up to them
with respect; their defects are not to be seen, or not to be touched
by malicious or wanton wits, by spiteful or scornful tongues: the
diminution of their credit is a public mischief, and the State
itself doth suffer in their becoming objects of scorn; not only
themselves are vilified and degraded, but the great affairs they
manage are obstructed, the justice they administer is disparaged
thereby.
In fine, no jesting is allowable which is not thoroughly innocent:
it is an unworthy perverting of wit to employ it in biting and
scratching; in working prejudice to any man's reputation or
interest; in needlessly incensing any man's anger or sorrow; in
raising animosities, dissensions, and feuds among any.
Whence it is somewhat strange that any men from so mean and silly a
practice should expect commendation, or that any should afford
regard thereto; the which it is so far from meriting, that indeed
contempt and abhorrence are due to it. Men do truly more render
themselves despicable than others when, without just ground, or
reasonable occasion, they do attack others in this way. That such a
practice doth ever find any encouragement or acceptance, whence can
it proceed, but from the bad nature and small judgment of some
persons? For to any man who is endowed with any sense of goodness,
and hath a competence of true wit, or a right knowledge of good
manners (who knows. . . . inurbanum lepido seponere dicto), it
cannot but be unsavoury and loathsome. The repute it obtaineth is
in all respects unjust. So would it appear, not only were the cause
to be decided in a court of morality, because it consists not with
virtue and wisdom; but even before any competent judges of wit
itself. For he overthrows his own pretence, and cannot reasonably
claim any interest in wit, who doth thus behave himself: he
prejudgeth himself to want wit, who cannot descry fit matter to
divert himself or others: he discovereth a great straitness and
sterility of good invention, who cannot in all the wide field of
things find better subjects of discourse; who knows not how to be
ingenious within reasonable compass, but to pick up a sorry conceit
is forced to make excursions beyond the bounds of honesty and
decency.
Neither is it any argument of considerable ability in him that haps
to please this way: a slender faculty will serve the turn. The
sharpness of his speech cometh not from wit so much as from choler,
which furnisheth the lowest inventions with a kind of pungent
expression, and giveth an edge to every spiteful word: so that any
dull wretch doth seem to scold eloquently and ingeniously. Commonly
also satirical taunts do owe their seeming piquancy, not to the
speaker or his words, but to the subject, and the hearers; the
matter conspiring with the bad nature or the vanity of men who love
to laugh at any rate, and to be pleased at the expense of other
men's repute; conceiting themselves extolled by the depression of
their neighbour, and hoping to gain by his loss. Such customers
they are that maintain the bitter wits, who otherwise would want
trade, and might go a-begging. For commonly they who seem to excel
this way are miserably flat in other discourse, and most dully
serious: they have a particular unaptness to describe any good
thing, or commend any worthy person; being destitute of right ideas,
and proper terms answerable to such purposes: their representations
of that kind are absurd and unhandsome; their eulogies (to use their
own way of speaking) are in effect satires, and they can hardly more
abuse a man than by attempting to commend him; like those in the
prophet, who were wise to do ill, but to do well had no knowledge.
3. I pass by that it is very culpable to be facetious in obscene
and smutty matters. Such things are not to be discoursed on either
in jest or in earnest; they must not, as St. Paul saith, be so much
as named among Christians. To meddle with them is not to disport,
but to defile one's self and others. There is indeed no more
certain sign of a mind utterly debauched from piety and virtue than
by affecting such talk. But further--
4. All unseasonable jesting is blamable. As there are some proper
seasons of relaxation, when we may desipere in loco; so there are
some times, and circumstances of things, wherein it concerneth and
becometh men to be serious in mind, grave in demeanour, and plain in
discourse; when to sport in this way is to do indecently or
uncivilly, to be impertinent or troublesome.
It comporteth not well with the presence of superiors, before whom
it becometh us to be composed and modest, much less with the
performance of sacred offices, which require an earnest attention,
and most serious frame of mind.
In deliberations and debates about affairs of great importance, the
simple manner of speaking to the point is the proper, easy, clear,
and compendious way: facetious speech there serves only to obstruct
and entangle business, to lose time, and protract the result. The
shop and exchange will scarce endure jesting in their lower
transactions: the Senate, the Court of Justice, the Church do much
more exclude it from their more weighty consultations. Whenever it
justleth out, or hindereth the despatch of other serious business,
taking up the room or swallowing the time due to it, or indisposing
the minds of the audience to attend it, then it is unseasonable and
pestilent. [Greek] (to play, that we may be seriously busy), is the
good rule (of Anacharsis), implying the subordination of sport to
business, as a condiment and furtherance, not an impediment or clog
thereto. He that for his sport neglects his business, deserves
indeed to be reckoned among children; and children's fortune will
attend him, to be pleased with toys, and to fail of substantial
profit.
'Tis again improper (because indeed uncivil, and inhuman) to jest
with persons that are in a sad or afflicted condition; as arguing
want of due considering or due commiserating their case. It appears
a kind of insulting upon their misfortune, and is apt to foment
their grief. Even in our own case (upon any disastrous occurrence
to ourselves), it would not be seemly to frolic it thus; it would
signify want of due regard to the frowns of God, and the strokes of
His hand; it would cross the wise man's advice, "In the day of
prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity consider."
It is also not seasonable, or civil, to be jocund in this way with
those who desire to be serious, and like not the humour. Jocularity
should not be forcibly obtruded, but by a kindly conspiracy (or
tacit compact) slip into conversation; consent and complaisance give
all the life thereto. Its design is to sweeten and ease society;
when to the contrary it breedeth offence or encumbrance, it is worse
than vain and unprofitable. From these instances we may collect
when in other like cases it is unseasonable, and therefore culpable.
Further--
5. To affect, admire, or highly to value this way of speaking
(either absolutely in itself, or in comparison to the serious and
plain way of speech), and thence to be drawn into an immoderate use
thereof, is blamable. A man of ripe age and sound judgment, for
refreshment to himself, or in complaisance to others, may sometimes
condescend to play in this, or any other harmless way; but to be
fond of it, to prosecute it with a careful or painful eagerness, to
dote and dwell upon it, to reckon it a brave or a fine thing, a
singular matter of commendation, a transcendent accomplishment,
anywise preferable to rational endowments, or comparable to the
moral excellencies of our mind (to solid knowledge, or sound wisdom,
or true virtue and goodness), this is extremely childish, or
brutish, and far below a man. What can be more absurd than to make
business of play, to be studious and laborious in toys, to make a
profession or drive a trade of impertinency? What more plain
nonsense can there be, than to be earnest in jest, to be continual
in divertisement, or constant in pastime; to make extravagance all
our way, and sauce all our diet? Is not this plainly the life of a
child that is ever busy, yet never hath anything to do? Or the life
of that mimical brute which is always active in playing uncouth and
unlucky tricks; which, could it speak, might surely pass well for a
professed wit?
The proper work of man, the grand drift of human life, is to follow
reason (that noble spark kindled from Heaven; that princely and
powerful faculty, which is able to reach so lofty objects, and
achieve so mighty works), not to soothe fancy, that brutish, shallow
and giddy power, able to perform nothing worthy much regard. We are
not (even Cicero could tell us) born for play and jesting, but for
severity, and the study of graver and greater affairs. Yes, we were
purposely designed, and fitly framed, to understand and contemplate,
to affect and delight in, to undertake and pursue most noble and
worthy things; to be employed in business considerably profitable to
ourselves, and beneficial to others. We do therefore strangely
debase ourselves, when we do strongly bend our minds to, or set our
affections upon, such toys.
Especially to do so is unworthy of a Christian; that is, of a person
who is advanced to so high a rank, and so glorious relations; who
hath so excellent objects of his mind and affections presented
before him, and so excellent rewards for his care and pains proposed
to him; who is engaged in affairs of so worthy nature, and so
immense consequence: for him to be zealous about quibbles, for him
to be ravished with puny conceits and expressions, 'tis a wondrous
oversight, and an enormous indecency.
He indeed that prefers any faculty to reason, disclaims the
privilege of being a man, and understands not the worth of his own
nature; he that prizes any quality beyond virtue and goodness,
renounces the title of a Christian, and knows not how to value the
dignity of his profession. It is these two (reason and virtue) in
conjunction which produce all that is considerably good and great in
the world. Fancy can do little; doth never anything well, except as
directed and wielded by them. Do pretty conceits or humorous talk
carry on any business, or perform any work? No; they are
ineffectual and fruitless: often they disturb, but they never
despatch anything with good success. It is simple reason (as dull
and dry as it seemeth) which expediteth all the grand affairs, which
accomplisheth all the mighty works that we see done in the world.
In truth, therefore, as one diamond is worth numberless bits of
glass; so one solid reason is worth innumerable fancies: one grain
of true science and sound wisdom in real worth and use doth outweigh
loads (if any loads can be) of freakish wit. To rate things
otherwise doth argue great weakness of judgment, and fondness of
mind. So to conceit of this way signifieth a weak mind; and much to
delight therein rendereth it so--nothing more debaseth the spirit of
a man, or more rendereth it light and trifling.
Hence if we must be venting pleasant conceits, we should do it as if
we did it not, carelessly and unconcernedly; not standing upon it,
or valuing ourselves for it: we should do it with measure and
moderation; not giving up ourselves thereto, so as to mind it or
delight in it more than in any other thing: we should not be so
intent upon it as to become remiss in affairs more proper or needful
for us; so as to nauseate serious business, or disrelish the more
worthy entertainments of our minds. This is the great danger of it,
which we daily see men to incur; they are so bewitched with a humour
of being witty themselves, or of hearkening to the fancies of
others, that it is this only which they can like or favour, which
they can endure to think or talk of. 'Tis a great pity that men who
would seem to have so much wit, should so little understand
themselves. But further--
6. Vainglorious ostentation this way is very blamable. All
ambition, all vanity, all conceitedness, upon whatever ground they
are founded, are absolutely unreasonable and silly; but yet those
being grounded on some real ability, or some useful skill, are wise
and manly in comparison to this, which standeth on a foundation so
manifestly slight and weak. The old philosophers by a severe father
were called animalia gloriae (animals of glory), and by a satirical
poet they were termed bladders of vanity; but they at least did
catch at praise from praiseworthy knowledge; they were puffed up
with a wind which blew some good to mankind; they sought glory from
that which deserved glory if they had not sought it; it was a
substantial and solid credit which they did affect, resulting from
successful enterprises of strong reason, and stout industry: but
these animalculae gloriae, these flies, these insects of glory,
these, not bladders, but bubbles of vanity, would be admired and
praised for that which is nowise admirable or laudable; for the
casual hits and emergencies of roving fancy; for stumbling on an odd
conceit or phrase, which signifieth nothing, and is as superficial
as the smile, as hollow as the noise it causeth. Nothing certainly
in nature is more ridiculous than a self-conceited wit, who deemeth
himself somebody, and greatly pretendeth to commendation from so
pitiful and worthless a thing as a knack of trifling.
7. Lastly, it is our duty never so far to engage ourselves in this
way as thereby to lose or to impair that habitual seriousness,
modesty and sobriety of mind, that steady composedness, gravity and
constancy of demeanour, which become Christians. We should
continually keep our minds intent upon our high calling, and grand
interests; ever well tuned, and ready for the performance of holy
devotions, and the practice of most serious duties with earnest
attention and fervent affection. Wherefore we should never suffer
them to be dissolved into levity, or disordered into a wanton frame,
indisposing us for religious thoughts and actions. We ought always
in our behaviour to maintain, not only [Greek] (a fitting decency),
but also [Greek] (a stately gravity), a kind of venerable majesty,
suitable to that high rank which we bear of God's friends and
children; adorning our holy profession, and guarding us from all
impressions of sinful vanity. Wherefore we should not let ourselves
be transported into any excessive pitch of lightness, inconsistent
with or prejudicial to our Christian state and business. Gravity
and modesty are the senses of piety, which being once slighted, sin
will easily attempt and encroach upon us. So the old Spanish
gentleman may be interpreted to have been wise who, when his son
upon a voyage to the Indies took his leave of him, gave him this odd
advice, "My son, in the first place keep thy gravity, in the next
place fear God;" intimating that a man must first be serious, before
he can be pious.
To conclude, as we need not be demure, so must we not be impudent;
as we should not be sour, so ought we not to be fond; as we may be
free, so we should not be vain; as we may well stoop to friendly
complaisance, so we should take heed of falling into contemptible
levity. If without wronging others, or derogating from ourselves,
we can be facetious, if we can use our wits in jesting innocently,
and conveniently, we may sometimes do it: but let us, in compliance
with St. Paul's direction, beware of "foolish talking and jesting
which are not convenient."
"Now the God of grace and peace . . . . make us perfect in every
good work to do His will, working in us that which is well pleasing
in His sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and
ever. Amen."