it is excited by the love of mischief; and the laugher, like him who "scattereth firebrands, arrows, and death," still sayeth, "Am not I in sport?"

There is a sense of the ridiculous in the human mind, which exercises itself on objects of a particular and eccentric kind; all exaggerations, whether of form, or feature, or conduct, originating in fashion or affectation, serve as incitements to it.

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Spirits are not finely touch'd but to fine issues," and those who attempt to raise a laugh without this "touch" of genius, will find it a very serious business. Even to those whose comic powers frequently enable them to set the audience or the table in a roar, that is sometimes no easy task.

It is not necessary that a man should be mirthful himself, to be the cause of mirth in others. There are many instances both of authors and actors, who nave appeared to possess no predilection to hilarity, and who when not called by their occupation, or im

pelled by necessity to exert their powers of humour, have been characterized by dejection and melancholy.

The poet Cowper had those occasional gleams of gay fancy. Nothing has ever exhibited the ridiculous more successfully than "John Gilpin ;" and yet it is well known, that that exquisite effusion was written at a period when the unhappy poet was in a state of the deepest despondency.

The ingenious writer on the "Calamities of Authors," has stated a variety of cases, in support of this position; and among them of a Mr. M'Donald, of whom he speaks as follows:

"Some years since, the town was amused every morning by a series of humorous or burlesque poems, under the assumed name of Matthew Bramble; the author, a Mr. M'Donald, was at that very moment one of the most moving spectacles of human melancholy I ever witnessed."

Akenside in his "Pleasures of Imagina

tion," has pointed out some legitimate objects of ridicule, and after enumerating them as they branch forth in their several characters, goes on to reason thus :

"Through every scene of ridicule in things,
To lead the tenor of my devious lay;
Through every swift occasion, which the hand
Of laughter points at, when the mirthful sting
Distends her sallying nerves, and choaks her tongue,
What were it but to count each crystal drop,
Which morning's dewy fingers on the blooms
Of May distil? Suffice it to have said
Where'er the power of ridicule displays
Her quaint eye'd visage, some incongruous form,
Some stubborn dissonance of things combin'd,
Strikes on the quick perception: whether pomp,
Or praise, or beauty, mix their partial claim,
Where sordid fashions, where ignoble deeds,
Where foul deformity are wont to dwell
Or whether these with violation loath'd,
Invade resplendent pomp's imperious mien,
The charms of beauty, or the boast of praise.
"Ask we for what fair end, the almighty Sire,
In mortal bosoms wakes this gay contempt,
These grateful stings of laughter, from disgust
Educing pleasure? Wherefore but to aid
The tardy steps of reason, and at once
By this prompt impulse urge us to depress
The giddy aims of folly? Though the light
Of truth slow-dawning on the inquiring mind,

At length unfolds, through many a subtile tie,
How these uncouth disorders end at last
In public evil: yet benignant Heaven,
Conscious how dim the dawn of truth appears
To thousands; conscious what a scanty pause
From labours and from care, the wider lot
Of humble life affords for studious thought
To scan the maze of nature; therefore stamp'd
The glaring scenes with characters of scorn,
As broad, as obvious, to the passing clown,
As to the letter'd sage's curious eye."

By this clue we may trace the origin of Satire, which has in various ways employed both the pen and the pencil. In drawing a parallel between Art and Literature, in this species of composition, it will be found that both are liable to the same censure, when they give too exaggerated a representation of things; when they become the engines of party, or the vehicles of malignity and personal abuse. Against what may be termed the legitimate use of such weapons as the pen and the pencil, in exposing the vices and follies of mankind to contempt and ridicule, no objection can be made; but in the hands

of the mischievous and designing, poison and the dagger cannot be more destructive. The unskilful also may gash and lacerate, while the experienced operator wounds only to heal.

Some years since, the species of lampoon in art called caricature, was attempted to be hunted down. A certain noble lord made it his business to visit the various shops that dealt in these satirical prints, and by expostulation or menace, endeavoured to obtain their removal. He even went so far as to produce them before parliament, for the purpose of restricting or punishing the publisher. Many of these caricatures exhibited members of both houses, in the most ludicrous points of view, and their production occasioned such bursts of laughter, that all attempts at remedy were fruitless.

The evil has since been permitted to travel freely on, in full possession of that ground, which the Satirist of the pen must tread with caution, and with his eye upon the Attorney