SHOWING CAUSE WHY THE QUESTION WHICH WAS NOT ASKED OUGHT TO BE
ANSWERED.
Nay in troth I talk but coarsely,
But I hold it comfortable for the understanding.
BEAUMONT and FLETCHER.
“What, more buffoonery!” says the Honorable Fastidious Feeble-wit who
condescends to act occasionally as Small Critic to the Court
Journal:—“what, still more of this buffoonery!”
“Yes, Sir,—_vous ne recevrez de moy, sur le commencement et milieu de
celuy-cy mien chapitre que bouffonnerie; et toutesfois bouffonnerie
qui porte quant à soy une philosophie et contemplation generale de la
vanité de ce monde._”[1]
[Footnote 1: PASQUIER.]
“More absurdities still!” says Lord Make-motion Ganderman, “more and
more absurdities!”
“Aye, my Lord!” as the Gracioso says in one of Calderon's Plays,
_¿sino digo lo que quiero,
de que me sirve ser loco?_
“Aye, my Lord!” as the old Spaniard says in his national poesy, “_mas,
y mas, y mas, y mas_,” more and more and more and more. You may live
to learn what vaunted maxims of your political philosophy are nothing
else than absurdities in masquerade; what old and exploded follies
there are, which with a little vamping and varnishing pass for new and
wonderful discoveries;
What a world of businesses
Which by interpretation are mere nothings![2]
This you may live to learn. As for my absurdities, they may seem very
much beneath your sapience; but when I say _hæ nugæ seria ducunt_,
(for a trite quotation when well-set is as good as one that will be
new to every body) let me add, my Lord, that it will be well both for
you and your country, if your practical absurdities do not draw after
them consequences of a very different dye!
[Footnote 2: BEAUMONT and FLETCHER.]
No, my Lord, as well as Aye, my Lord!
Never made man of woman born
Of a bullock's tail, a blowing-horn;
Nor can an ass's hide disguise
A lion, if he ramp and rise.[3]
[Footnote 3: PEELE.]
“More fooling,” exclaims Dr. Dense: he takes off his spectacles, lays
them on the table beside him, with a look of despair, and applies to
the snuff-box for consolation. It is a capacious box, and the Doctor's
servant takes care that his master shall never find in it a deficiency
of the best rappee. “More fooling!” says that worthy Doctor.
Fooling, say you, my learned Dr. Dense? Chiabrera will tell you
_——che non è ria
Una gentil follia,—_
my erudite and good Doctor;
But do you know what fooling is? true fooling,—
The circumstances that belong unto it?
For every idle knave that shews his teeth,
Wants, and would live, can juggle, tumble, fiddle,
Make a dog-face, or can abuse his fellow,
Is not a fool at first dash.[4]
[Footnote 4: BEAUMONT and FLETCHER.]
It is easy to talk of fooling and of folly, _mais d'en savoir les
ordres, les rangs, les distinctions; de connoître ces differences
delicates qu'il y a de Folie à Folie; les affinités et les alliances
qui se trouvent entrè la Sagesse et cette meme Folie_, as Saint
Evremond says; to know this is not under every one's nightcap; and
perhaps my learned Doctor, may not be under your wig, orthodox and in
full buckle as it is.
The Doctor is all astonishment, and almost begins to doubt whether I
am fooling in earnest. Aye, Doctor! you meet in this world with false
mirth as often as with false gravity; the grinning hypocrite is not a
more uncommon character than the groaning one. As much light discourse
comes from a heavy heart, as from a hollow one; and from a full mind
as from an empty head. “Levity,” says Mr. Danby, “is sometimes a
refuge from the gloom of seriousness. A man may whistle ‘for want of
thought,’ or from having too much of it.”
“Poor creature!” says the Reverend Philocalvin Frybabe. “Poor
creature! little does he think what an account he must one day render
for every idle word!”
And what account, odious man, if thou art a hypocrite, and hardly less
odious if thou art sincere in thine abominable creed,—what account
wilt thou render for thine extempore prayers and thy set discourses!
My words, idle as thou mayest deem them, will never stupify the
intellect, nor harden the heart, nor besot the conscience like an
opiate drug!
“Such facetiousness,” saith Barrow, “is not 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 wit 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; seeing 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.”
But think not that in thus producing the authority of one of the
wisest and best of men, I offer any apology for my levities to your
Gravityships! they need it not and you deserve it not.
_Questi—
Son fatti per dar pasto a gl' ignoranti;
Ma voi ch' avete gl' intelletti sani,
Mirate la dottrina che s'asconde
Sotto queste coperte alte e profonde.
Le cose belle, e preziose, e care,
Saporite, soavi e dilicate,
Scoperte in man non si debbon portare
Perchè da' porci non sieno imbrattate._[5]
[Footnote 5: ORLANDO INNAMORATO.]
Gentlemen, you have made me break the word of promise both to the eye
and ear. I began this chapter with the intention of showing to the
reader's entire satisfaction, why the question which was not asked,
ought to be answered; and now another chapter must be appropriated to
that matter! Many things happen between the cup and the lip, and
between the beginning of a chapter and the conclusion thereof.