An Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit, Humour, Railery, Satire, and Ridicule | Page 4

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An ESSAY
Towards Fixing the TRUE STANDARDS of WIT, HUMOUR,
RAILLERY, SATIRE, and RIDICULE.
To which is Added, an ANALYSIS Of the CHARACTERS of
An HUMOURIST, Sir John Falstaff, Sir Roger De Coverly, and Don
Quixote.

Inscribed to the RIGHT HONORABLE ROBERT Earl of ORFORD.
By the AUTHOR of a LETTER from a BY-STANDER.
---- Jacta est Alea.
LONDON:

Printed for J. ROBERTS, at the Oxford-Arms, in Warwick-lane; and W.
BICKERTON, in the Temple-Exchange, near the Inner-Temple-Gate,
Fleet-Street.
M DCC XLIV. [Price 2s.]
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INTRODUCTION.
An Attempt to describe the precise Limits of WIT, HUMOUR,
RAILLERY, SATIRE and RIDICULE, I am sensible, is no easy or
slight Undertaking. To give a Definition of WIT, has been declared by
Writers of the greatest Renown, to exceed their Reach and Power; and
Gentlemen of no less Abilities, and Fame, than Cowley, Barrow,
Dryden, Locke, Congreve, and Addison, have tryed their Force upon
this Subject, and have all left it free, and unconquered. This, I perceive,
will be an Argument with some, for condemning an Essay upon this
Topic by a young Author, as rash and presumptious. But, though I
desire to pay all proper Respect to these eminent Writers, if a tame
Deference to great Names shall become fashionable, and the
Imputation of Vanity be laid upon those who examine their Works, all
Advancement in Knowledge will be absolutely stopp'd; and Literary
Merit will be soon placed, in an humble Stupidity, and solemn Faith in
the Wisdom of our Ancestors.
Whereas, if I rightly apprehend, an Ambition to excell is the Principle
which should animate a Writer, directed by a Love of Truth, and a free
Spirit of Candour and Inquiry. This is the Flame which should warm
the rising Members of every Science, not a poor Submission to those
who have preceded. For, however it may be with a Religious
DEVOTION, a Literary One is certainly the CHILD of Ignorance.
However, I must acknowledge, that where I have differed from the
great Authors before mentioned, it has been with a Diffidence, and after
the most serious and particular Examination of what they have
delivered. It is from hence, that I have thought it my Duty, to exhibit
with the following Essay, their several Performances upon the same

Subject, that every Variation of mine from their Suffrage, and the
Reasons upon which I have grounded it, may clearly appear.
The following Ode upon WIT is written by Mr. Cowley.
ODE of WIT.
I.
Tell me, oh tell!, what kind of Thing is WIT, Thou who Master art of it;
For the first Matter loves Variety _less_; Less Women love't, either in
Love or Dress. A thousand diff'rent Shapes it bears, Comely in
thousand Shapes appears; Yonder we saw it plain, and here 'tis now,
Like Spirits in a Place, we know not how.
II.
London, that vents of false Ware so much Store, In no Ware deceives
us more; For Men, led by the Colour, and the Shape, Like _Zeuxis'
Bird_, fly to the painted Grape. Some things do through our Judgment
pass, As through a _Multiplying Glass_: And sometimes, if the Object
be too far, We take a falling Meteor for a Star.
III.
Hence 'tis a Wit, that greatest Word of Fame, Grows such a common
Name; And Wits, by our Creation, they become; Just so as _Tit'lar
Bishops_ made at Rome. 'Tis not a Tale, 'tis not a Jest, Admir'd with
Laughter at a Feast, Nor florid Talk which can that Title gain; The
Proofs of Wit for ever must remain.
IV.
'Tis not to force some Lifeless Verses meet, With their five gouty Feet.
All ev'ry where, like _Man's_, must be the Soul, And Reason the
_inferior Pow'rs_ controul. Such were the Numbers which could call
The Stones into the Theban Wall. Such Miracles are ceas'd, and now
we see No Towns or Houses rais'd by _Poetry.

V.
Yet 'tis not to adorn, and gild each Part, That shews more Cost than Art.
Jewels at Nose, and Lips, but ill appear; Rather than all Things Wit, let
none be there. Several Lights will not be seen, If there be nothing else
between. Men doubt; because they stand so thick i' th' Sky. If those be
Stars which paint the Galaxy.
VI.
'Tis not when two like Words make up one Noise; Jests for Dutch Men,
and English Boys. In which, who finds out Wit, the same may see In
_An'grams_ and Acrostiques Poetry. Much less can that have any Place,
At which a Virgin hides her Face; Such Dross the Fire must purge
away; 'Tis just The Author blush, there where the Reader must.
VII.
'Tis not such Lines as almost