“Laughter is produced by joy mixed with surprise, the eyebrows rise towards the middle of the eye, and bend down towards the side of the nose. The eyes are almost shut, and sometimes appear wet, or shed tears, which make no alteration in the face. The mouth, half open, shews the teeth; the corners of the mouth drawn back, cause a wrinkle in the cheeks, which appear so swelled as in some measure to hide the eyes; the nostrils are open, and all the face is of a red colour. Laughter is at all times ungraceful, therefore you will observe, that vulgar people are most addicted to it: well-bred persons manage this passion better; they seldom do any thing more than smile. Yet at times, it will happen that something we meet with is so truly ridiculous or comical, that we cannot by any means help laughing. There are, however, some persons who are so much of idiots, that they will laugh at the most trifling thing in the world; of this description were

The Family of the Gobblegruels.

“Lord Gobblegruel, who was very rich, had arrived at that title purely by having done some service to the government as a contractor. His lordship had but very few ideas beyond a common sum in arithmetic. My lady Gobblegruel was just as ignorant, only much more proud and affected, though, to tell the honest truth, she was originally his lordship’s father’s cook.

“There was a numerous family of them. There was his lordship, the right honourable lady Gobblegruel, the honourable Master Thomas Gobblegruel, and the honourable Miss Boadicea Gobblegruel.

You will wonder, my dear children, that there should be such characters as these among persons of rank; and the truth is, that, generally speaking, in this country, persons of rank are persons of education, of good sense, and of elegant and refined manners; yet here and there, up starts a peer without politeness, and a baron without brains.

“To proceed then—the honourable master Gobblegruel was what some coarse people would have called a natural; at any rate, he most certainly was a natural curiosity. Master Gobblegruel’s whole pleasure and employment was driving pigs: and to be sure, no salesman in Smithfield market understood pigs better; he could tell you whether a pig with a curly tail was better than a pig who had not a curly tail, or than one that had no tail at all; but what was a more excellent accomplishment in our little master was, that he could squeak as naturally as that animal; and which species of entertainment being according to the taste of the family, he was often called upon by the right honourable lady Gobblegruel to perform for the amusement of the right honourable lord Gobblegruel in the drawing room. (Henry could scarcely refrain from laughing).

“Master Gobblegruel was not only one of the greatest idiots, but also one of the greatest gluttons in the world; he was formed very much like a pig himself—I mean one that was well fattened; for he was nearly as thick as he was long; his cheeks were so plump and round, that they almost hid his eyes, which were very small; but master Gobblegruel had another extraordinary accomplishment—he could perform Punch to the life, which he used to do in the housekeeper’s room, to great audiences of the servants, and with prodigious applause. It was really very amusing to see the son of a nobleman with a short stick in his hand, knocking, as he pretended, his wife Joan on the head, squeaking toote, toote, toote, and nodding and winking exactly like his famed original.—(Henry could not resist Laughter any longer).

“The honourable master Gobblegruel was so ungraceful at table, that he disgusted every body; you might see him take up the bone of a fowl, which he would gnaw and suck with so much avidity, that the grease would run down the sides of his mouth, into which he would also constantly put his knife instead of his fork; and when he drank, you might see the greater part of his face through the glass.

“One day in particular, master Gobblegruel made a more than commonly ridiculous figure; he had got the end of a drumstick of a fowl in his mouth, which upon being reminded by some person present was vulgar, he transfixed immediately between his teeth, sitting bolt upright, and grinning like his honourable father’s pug-dog, to the infinite amusement of all the servants. The young gentleman would not however part with the bone. (Henry burst into a fit of Laughter.)

“I must now,” said Mr. Willock, “for the benefit of the young ladies, describe the honourable Miss Boadicea Gobblegruel, who in shape and figure was the counterpart of her honourable brother.

“Miss Boadicea never looked at any thing; she always stared; she was excessively vulgar, and was ignorant, in spite of education. She was, too, always laughing; and when she did laugh, she might be heard from the drawing-room into the kitchen; nor was there half a note difference between the laugh of Miss Boadicea and the laugh of the cook-maid. Miss Boadicea was nearly as coarse in her manners as her brother, but much more ill-natured and satirical. Master Gobblegruel would not offend any body, unless they spoke against pigs; and Boadicea had a constant antipathy to merit in distress, or meanness in apparel; and though she sometimes deigned to assist, it was always done with the features of pity proceeding from contempt: but let us have done with this disagreeable monster; I see, my dear Caroline, that you already despise her. Another laughing character calls our attention.—I will describe him in the following story.

The History of Charles Banter.

“Charles was the son of a gentleman of very moderate circumstances, who had, however, found means to send him to Eton College, where he distinguished himself very early, not only by being the best scholar of his age, but one of the best-natured boys. When Charles was fag, he went through that service without a murmur; he was always as merry as a grig. If his schoolfellows beat him, he only laughed all the time; in short, Charles was what they called a fine fellow: but he had a very great fault, and that was an inclination to entertain himself continually with that disagreeable amusement of schoolboys, called quizzing; he used to quiz the master, quiz the mistress, quiz the inhabitants, and quiz the strangers. Charles, therefore, though he was admired as a clever boy, was not loved, and indeed had many enemies; for there are very few people who like to be laughed at. Charles Banter’s propensity was often attended with disagreeable consequences, and was a grand obstacle to his success in life. Charles was at home one vacation, when a distant relation, who happened to wear a wig, was on a visit to his father.—The old gentleman took particular notice of Charles; and having no children of his own, had left him a very handsome fortune. Charles ought, you will say, to have had a little prudence, but he could not resist the propensity to quiz. The wig was the object of his amusement; and he contrived one day, before the old gentleman put it on, to slip into his room, and pepper and salt all the curls; so that when he came down to dinner, he set the whole party at table sneezing. At length the joke was discovered; and as nobody was present on whom the slightest suspicion of such an indecency could fall, except Charles, the question was put to him, and the colour in his face pleaded guilty; in short, he confessed the joke; for Charles, to speak fairly of him, disdained to tell a lie. His father, who was not a very sensible man, was indiscreet enough to join in the laugh, and to take no farther notice of the affair. It was not so with the old gentleman; he never visited the same table afterwards, and to his will added the following codicil:—‘To master Charles Banter, for the seasoning of my wig, five shillings.’

“You will see by this event, my dear children, that it is your interest as well as duty, to pay respect to age; for old people can serve you by their experience, even if they have not money to leave you; you may fly to them for advice, and the attention you pay them is never lost. But there is a still worse character, and that is him who enjoys mischief, and who takes a pleasure in cruelty; he laughs too, but his laugh is the smile of malice. Such a wicked character was Tom Worry, who was the son of a gentleman, and who had begun very early to make war against the poor harmless animals and insects who came unfortunately in his way. To torment and to destroy was his whole delight; and a poor innocent cat was the particular object of his cruelty; and, what is very extraordinary, it was to the having hunted one of these poor animals into a cellar, that he owed all the scratches he afterwards received from ill-fortune; for while he was amusing himself in this way, he was joined by a vulgar boy ten times more wicked than himself, and who exulted with him in the distress of poor puss: this boy ingratiated himself into his favour, prevailed upon him to run away from his friends, led him into a great many very serious scrapes, and was at length his utter ruin.—Surely, my dear children, we need only to reflect for a moment on the nature of the pain we inflict, to turn from wanton cruelty: how should we like to be hunted into a corner, by creatures stronger than ourselves, and pelted by them with stones and dirt? we should think it very hard usage. If any ill accident assails, how altered are our features, how wretched, how distressed do we appear, what agony do our features express at the pain of a broken or dislocated limb! Let us see if Le Brun has described this sensation—yes, here it is.