Beattie observes that Shakespeare's humour will never be adequately
relished in France nor Moliere's in England.[17]
The inquiry in the present chapter is not as to what creates the
ludicrous, but as to what tends to vivify or obscure it. We shall not
here attempt any surmises as to its essential nature, although we trace
the conditions necessary to its due appreciation. A great number of
things pass unnoticed every day both in circumstances and conversation,
in which the ludicrous might be detected by a keen observer. The
following is not a bad instance of an absurd statement being
unconsciously made--
"One day when walking in the Black Country the Bishop of Lichfield
saw a number of miners seated on the ground, and went to speak to
them. On asking them what they were doing, he was told they had
been 'loyin.' The Bishop, much dismayed, asked for an explanation.
'Why, you see,' said one of the men, 'one of us fun' a kettle, and
we have been trying who can tell the biggest lie to ha' it.' His
lordship, being greatly shocked, began to lecture them and to tell
them that lying was a great offence, and that he had always felt
this so strongly that he had never told a lie in the whole course
of his life. He had scarcely finished, when one of the hearers
exclaimed, 'Gie the governor the kettle; gie the governor the
kettle!'"
Under the head of unconscious absurdities may be classed what are
commonly called "bulls," implying like the French "_betise_" so great a
deficiency of observation as to approach a kind of brutish stupidity
only worthy of the lower animals.
Pages:
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297