Elements of Criticism, Volume I. :: CHAP. VII. Risible Objects.

CHAP. VII. Risible Objects.

SUch is the nature of man, that his powers and faculties are soon blunted by exercise. The returns of sleep, suspending all activity, are not alone sufficient to preserve him in vigor. During his waking hours, amusement by intervals is requisite to unbend his mind from serious occupation. The imagination, of all our faculties the most active, and not always at rest even in sleep, contributes more than any other cause to recruit the mind and restore its vigor, by amusing us with gay and ludicrous images; and when relaxation is necessary, such amusement is much relished. But there are other sources of amusement beside the imagination. Many objects, natural as well as artificial, may be distinguished by the epithet of risible, because they raise in us a peculiar emotion expressed externally by laughter. This is a pleasant emotion; and being also mirthful, it most successfully unbends the mind and recruits the spirits.

Ludicrous is a general term, signifying, as we may conjecture from its derivation, what is playsome, sportive, or jocular. Ludicrous therefore seems the genus, of which risible is a species, limited as above to what makes us laugh.

However easy it may be, concerning any particular object, to say whether it be risible or not; it seems difficult, if at all practicable, to establish beforehand any general character by which objects of this kind may be distinguished from others. Nor is this a singular case. Upon a review, we find the same difficulty in most of the articles already handled. There is nothing more easy, viewing a particular object, than to pronounce that it is beautiful or ugly, grand or little: but were we to attempt general rules for ranging objects under different classes, according to these qualities, we should find ourselves utterly at a loss. There is a separate cause which increases the difficulty of distinguishing risible objects by a general character. All men are not equally affected by risible objects; and even the same person is more disposed to laugh at one time than another. In high spirits a thing will make us laugh outright, that will scarce provoke a smile when we are in a grave mood. We must therefore abandon the thought of attempting general rules for distinguishing risible objects from others. Risible objects however are circumscribed within certain limits, which I shall suggest, without pretending to any degree of accuracy. And, in the first place, I observe, that no object is risible but what appears slight, little, or trifling. For man is so constituted as to be seriously affected with every thing that is of importance to his own interest or to that of others. Secondly, with respect to the works both of nature and of art, nothing is risible but what deviates from the common nature of the subject: it must be some particular out of rule, some remarkable defect or excess, a very long visage, for example, or a very short one. Hence nothing just, proper, decent, beautiful, proportioned, or grand, is risible. A real distress raises pity, and therefore cannot be risible. But a slight or imaginary distress, which moves not pity, is risible. The adventure of the fulling-mills in Don Quixote is extremely risible; so is the scene where Sancho, in a dark night, tumbles into a pit, and attaches himself to the side by hand and foot, there hanging in terrible dismay till the morning, when he discovers himself to be within a foot of the bottom. A nose remarkably long or short is risible; but to want the nose altogether, far from provoking laughter, raises horror in the spectator.

From what is said, it will readily be conjectured, that the emotion raised by a risible object is of a nature so singular as scarce to find place while the mind is occupied with any other passion or emotion. And this conjecture is verified by experience. We scarce ever find this emotion blended with any other. One emotion I must except, and that is contempt raised by some sort of improprieties. Every improper act inspires us with some degree of contempt for the author. And if an improper act be at the same time risible and provoke laughter, of which blunders and absurdities are noted instances, the two emotions of contempt and of laughter unite intimately in the mind, and produce externally what is termed a laugh of derision or of scorn. Hence objects that cause laughter, may be distinguished into two kinds. They are either risible or ridiculous. A risible object is mirthful only; a ridiculous object is both mirthful and contemptible. The first raises an emotion of laughter that is altogether pleasant: the emotion of laughter raised by the other, is qualified with that of contempt; and the mixed emotion, partly pleasant partly painful, is termed the emotion of ridicule. I avenge myself of the pain a ridiculous object gives me by a laugh of derision. A risible object, on the other hand, gives me no pain: it is altogether pleasant by a certain sort of titillation, which is expressed externally by mirthful laughter. Ridicule will be more fully explained afterward: the present chapter is appropriated to the other emotion.

Risible objects are so common and so well understood, that it is unnecessary to consume paper or time upon them. Take the few following examples.

Falstaff. I do remember him at Clement’s inn,
like a man made after supper of a cheese-paring.
When he was naked, he was for all the world like a
forked radish, with a head fantastically carved upon
it with a knife.
Second part, Henry IV. act 3. sc. 5.

The foregoing is of disproportion. The following examples are of slight or imaginary misfortunes.

Falstaff. Go fetch me a quart of sack, put a
toast in’t. Have I liv’d to be carried in a basket,
like a barrow of butcher’s offal, and to be thrown
into the Thames? Well, if I be serv’d such another
trick, I’ll have my brains ta’en out and butter’d,
and give them to a dog for a new-year’s
gift. The rogues slighted me into the river with
as little remorse as they would have drown’d a
bitch’s blind puppies, fifteen i’ th’ litter; and you
may know by my size, that I have a kind of alacrity
in sinking: if the bottom were as deep as hell,
I should down. I had been drown’d, but that the
shore was shelvy and shallow; a death that I abhor;
for the water swells a man: and what a thing
should I have been, when I had been swell’d? I
should have been a mountain of mummy.
Merry wives of Windsor, act 3. sc. 15.

Falstaff. Nay, you shall hear, Master Brook,
what I have suffer’d to bring this woman to evil
for your good. Being thus cramm’d in the basket,
a couple of Ford’s knaves, his hinds, were
call’d forth by their mistress, to carry me in the
name of foul cloaths to Datchet-lane. They took
me on their shoulders, met the jealous knave their
master in the door, who ask’d them once or twice
what they had in their basket. I quak’d for fear,
left the lunatic knave would have search’d it; but
Fate, ordaining he should be a cuckold, held his
hand. Well, on went he for a search, and away
went I for foul cloaths. But mark the sequel, Master
Brook. I suffer’d the pangs of three egregious
deaths: first, an intolerable fright, to be detected
by a jealous rotten bell weather; next, to be compass’d
like a good bilbo, in the circumference of a
peck, hilt to point, heel to head; and then to be
stopt in, like a strong distillation, with stinking cloaths
that fretted in their own grease. Think of that, a
man of my kidney; think of that, that am as subject
to heat as butter; a man of continual dissolution
and thaw; it was a miracle to ’scape suffocation.
And in the height of this bath, when I was
more than half-stew’d in grease, like a Dutch dish,
to be thrown into the Thames, and cool’d glowing
hot, in that surge, like a horse-shoe; think of
that; hissing hot; think of that, Master Brook.
Merry wives of Windsor, act 3. sc. 17.

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