LETTER LI.
Dear Charles,—You pretend I ridicule for the want of
better argument! Now, in the first place, my worthy sir,
I do not ridicule; in the next place, folks do not always ridicule
for the want of a better logic; and in the third and last
place, ridicule is often a legitimate weapon, and in some
respects a test of truth.
A trifling and ill-natured man may, indeed, even in the
most serious and solemn matters, see something which may
be so exhibited as to excite laughter; or a malicious man
may wilfully distort sober truth into a laughable caricature:
but then why do we laugh? Simply because we see, or
think we see, for the moment, what is intrinsically ludicrous.
If any thing be, however, essentially silly, and some
things are unquestionably of that stamp, then let it be laughed
at; that it deserves, and that will sooner or later destroy
its existence. Here then I hold, that provided any affair be
truly narrated, or in any way truly represented, the essential
character of such affair is to be known by its effects
on us. Narrate or represent what is agreeable, it will
awaken pleasant emotions; narrate or represent what is
essentially sober, or ludicrous, and corresponding serious
reflections, or laughter and scorn ensue: legitimate effects
follow, and none other can. If indignation, and laughter,
and scorn are wrong, so also are pleasant emotions, and
serious reflections.
Only tell the truth, therefore, about any folly, and
laughter is legitimate and inevitable. To insist that the
writer who makes a fair representation of an essentially
ridiculous subject or practice ridicules it, is eminently preposterous.
He barely shows a true picture, and we are
affected not by the writer, but by what we see. He does
for his subject no more than what a writer, or painter, or
sculptor, does with a serious and solemn subject: he simply
shows it. There is intrinsic folly and wickedness and fraud
in some matters, and the competent artist or author reveals
it by the pencil, the chisel, or the pen. This is not, in the
popular and improper sense, to ridicule.
To ridicule is to make a false representation of truth;
to place sobriety and decency and fitness in a wrong light,
or to invest them in fool's garments, in a harlequin's dress.
But because this is sometimes improperly done, to affirm
that we may not put folly, and fraud, and cant, and wickedness
in their true light, or exhibit a ridiculous matter
as such, is too absurd to be tolerated.
Sobriety, decency, fitness, religion cannot be overthrown
by ridicule; for there is nothing in them essentially foolish.
They may be misrepresented, but that misrepresentation
will soon be detected, and the “violent doings” of the caricaturist
“will come down upon his own pate.” Wicked
men do indeed resort to ridiculing truth, because they
have no sober argument against it; but wise and good men
avail themselves of a legitimate weapon against folly, when
they exhibit folly in its true light.
It is, therefore, very silly to affirm that a thing essentially
ridiculous is laughed at, because there is no logic against
it: for the best logic against such a thing is itself, and the
inevitable laughter its true exhibition creates.
But do tell Mrs. C. that I aim not to show up your intended
fair, as if silly in all its parts. Yet somehow, in
spite of all my urbanity, it stirs my risibility, (inward I
mean, for we have to do in this world a good deal of internal
laughter,) to enter a large room, furnished with temporary
stalls and counters, attended by fascinating young ladies
wrethed in the most bewitching smiles, and find a
gay and sportive assembly of bucks and—does?—(yes, that
is the correlative,) and of beaux and belles, ogling and
bowing, and saying all sorts of complimentary nihilities,
and selling and buying gewgaws and ginger-bread, and even
wax and wooden dolls of various sizes and colors, and eating
fruit cake and ices, sipping lemonade, and doing up
oysters—not for pleasure, nor for the gratification of appetite,
nor even the fun of the thing; but for what? yes,
for what? Oh! glorious nineteenth! for the relief of the
poor! for a whole-and-half orphan society!! for the education
of colored missionaries for Africa!!! for the Bunker
Hill Monument!!!! or the Reverend Charles Clarence,
A. M.'s red pulpit-cushion, and his new organ!!!!!
Will your reverence's wife call this caricature? Or is
there something in the thing itself virtually laughter-provoking?
Or will the lady say, “the peevish old codger of a
puritan has no taste, and is wicked enough to ridicule a
very
solemn means of doing much good?”
How would it read, if the apostle Paul in his advice to
Timothy had directed him to hold a modern fair for the
advantage of the congregations? Would it have comported
with all that sobriety and gravity and good report from
those without, so largely insisted on in those pastoral letters?
And what if the Church at Corinth, instead of being
directed to “lay by in store as God had prospered them,”
so that “no gatherings for the poor would be necessary”
when he came, had been taught to use an indirection for that
purpose?
Feasts were indeed made in those days—but here was
the difference—the poor used to eat such feasts in propria
persona—now they eat by representatives! Money now is
sent to the poor, but, after all expenses of the entertainment
are paid! The latter is the way we find pleasure in doing
good; the simple and unlearned believers of primitive days
found pleasure in the act itself! Intellect is improved, and
morals “is riz,” and “peace comes now to men of good
will,” according to the Catholic version.
You insist, however, and so does Mrs. C. and all the
pious ladies of your charge, on “a serious refutation!”
Then most seriously do I ask, Should a Christian regulate
his charities by system or by accident? Shall he honestly
and joyously tax his income, or give only when coaxed or
flattered, or trapped or sneered at?
For myself, I cannot approve any art or contrivance or
management to catch a person in public, when the fear of
man is before his eyes; when he is influenced by mere love
of show and popularity; or when time is denied him for all
examination and thought, and a natural timidity forbids him
to question the character of what is lauded by set orators,
and their clap-trappery figures. As well place the person
in a screw, and squeeze till he bleeds out in a paroxysm of
seeming benevolence, more than he is soberly willing to
bestow, and not rarely, more than he ought to bestow. That,
I repeat, is much like milking goats and silly sheep too.
Charles, like ambition, Christian charity “should be
made of sterner stuff;” in other words, it must be a principle.
Good men, who have any well-grounded reason for
believing themselves “bought with a price,” must feel that
all, yes, all, absolutely ALL, belongs to Christ. He has
bought them, and in no sense are they their own. And in
this is no figure, no extravagance, no special pleading, no
making the most of the case for effect; but it is strictly
and literally true, that genuine Christians belong wholly to
Christ. Hence they ought, at stated periods, on system, to
lay by whatever is possible for benevolent purposes.
To this there is no exception—there can be no exception
—there should be no exception. He that wishes an exception
in his own favor cannot be a Christian. What sum each
one is to lay by, depends on many circumstances; but it is
a much larger sum than most do lay by: for in proportion
to our obligation and our ability the best of us do too little.
If, however, we only approximated our lowest amount, all
expedients for raising moneys for charitable objects would
be abandoned: fairs and all other flattering indirections for
wrenching out of niggardly souls a few pence, by the lure
and bribe of a dollar's worth of fancy and pleasure, would
be indignantly scorned as a gross insult on Christian love
and beneficence.
I shall, however, say no more on the subject, Charles;
yet do not too hastily conclude that I “have exhausted all
my sarcasm;” we could contrive to “bring out of our treasury
things new and old,” in that way, if you are not satisfied.
And we have more “logic and serious argument,” too, than
your “pious ladies” can easily answer. Do not provoke
another letter.
