It is interesting to note the progress of American humor. That progress has been concurrent with the advancement of the country in other things. It is difficult in these changed times to appreciate the humor of the artifice practiced by the settler of the wilderness, besieged behind a tree by an Indian ensconced behind another. The latter is induced to empty his rifle at the white man's hat exposed on a stick and thus the siege is raised and fresh Indian furnished the vultures. Falstaff and Prince Hal never felt half so merry over a jest as did the hunters of the West over such as this. Davy Crockett's hunting adventures and pioneer campaigning followed and sated the hunger for fun, even as Mark Twain, Bill Arp, and others of that ilk have likewise served this generation. The light of the twinkling eye, the suggestive intonation of the voice, and certain tricks of the facial muscles are potent auxiliaries of the humorous faculty. Indeed, there is no doubt they are ever premonitory or concurrent symptoms. There is also noticeable about the wit, not precisely a self-abnegation, but he throws his soul unreservedly into the jest. He is void of pretense, is candid and sincere -at least for the time being. All these attributes, and more, may be predicated of Mr. Hardin. He had the faculty of seeing all sides of every subject and detecting its strong as well as its vulnerable points. Especially did he discover readily its weak, absurd, and ludicrous aspects. To him human nature was an open book and he turned its secret pages. His powers of description were of the highest order. "It was a theory of Ben Hardin's," observes Dr. Rob Morris, "advanced in conversation on this subject, that there is only a certain amount of real wit in human nature. It is impossible, he said, that any large addition shall ever be made to it. Like the gold in the hills, the quantity is limited and it costs dollar for dollar to get it out. He illustrated the theory by referring to a set of comic almanacs before him, showing that by beating the gold almost invisibly thin it may be spread over a vast surface." Certainly wit and humor have their limitations, beyond which they can not reach. Each wit has his vein, and he must be content with its product and resigned at its ultimate exhaustion. John Phoenix and Artemus Ward each charmed in his own way, but each had doubtless displayed the brightest jewels of his wit before the casket was sealed forever. Yet their transmigrated spirits may sparkle in another generation, as Swinburne hath it, "making mirth for us all.” Humor is, like the clouds, ever old and ever new-as old as the race, and as fresh as the last sunset. CHAPTER XXI. MR. HARDIN'S HUMOR. T is not proposed to dissect humor, nor deal with its anatomy or physiology. No kind of analysis of that insoluble quality will be attempted. No effort will be made to partition wit from humor or discuss their points of difference. The latter may be the atmosphere and the former the flash, as an excellent writer has said, but there is not a little uncertainty in the ideas conveyed by such metaphors.* Whoever attempts to run the dividing line between them will encounter that ancient cause of fruitful litigation in Kentucky courts—an "interference"-which, being interpreted, signifies the case where the boundary of one tract of land overlapped another. What, indeed, is ridi- Wit and humor seem often an irregular species of logic—not to be classed either in the inductive or analytic category. They are the merry handmaids of argument, if no more. cule but a form of argumentum ad absurdum? that comes by nature. It can be cultivated and improved, it is true, but nature must first have provided the faculty. The enchanting voice of the prima donna is inherited, however much art may develop and educate it. The genius of humor dwells only with its elect. The faculty requires or concurs with certain mental aptitudes-close observation and acute discrimination, both as to character and events; a quick fancy, readiness at comparison and discerning similitudes and contrasts, as well as the power of accurate expression. There must exist a quick-an intuitive power of tracing effect to cause, the art of clear and ready reasoning, and a keen scent for sophistry. A prime quality in a wit is a deep and exact knowlege of human nature—its virtues and its frailties. Humor has had its ages and fashions, and always its latitude, its nationality, and caste. The jest of the tropic would freeze in the arctic. The witticism of the cultured East seems emasculated in the rude and stalwart West. The humor of French and German jokes, for the most part, is not translatable to English perception. Bon mots are handed around on separate dishes in kitchen and drawing-room. If, as some say, the fun of the Pharaohs yet survives in modern anecdote, doubtless much of its Egyptian flavor has been lost. * H. R. Haweis, in "American Humorists," page 7. It is interesting to note the progress of American humor. That progress has been concurrent with the advancement of the country in other things. It is difficult in these changed times to appreciate the humor of the artifice practiced by the settler of the wilderness, besieged behind a tree by an Indian ensconced behind another. The latter is induced to empty his rifle at the white man's hat exposed on a stick. and thus the siege is raised and fresh Indian furnished the vultures. Falstaff and Prince Hal never felt half so merry over a jest as did the hunters of the West over such as this. Davy Crockett's hunting adventures and pioneer campaigning followed and sated the hunger for fun, even as Mark Twain, Bill Arp, and others of that ilk have likewise served this generation. The light of the twinkling eye, the suggestive intonation of the voice, and certain tricks of the facial muscles are potent auxiliaries of the humorous faculty. Indeed, there is no doubt they are ever premonitory or concurrent symptoms. There is also noticeable about the wit, not precisely a self-abnegation, but he throws his soul unreservedly into the jest. He is void of pretense, is candid and sincere -at least for the time being. All these attributes, and more, may be predicated of Mr. Hardin. He had the faculty of seeing all sides of every subject and detecting its strong as well as its vulnerable points. Especially did he discover readily its weak, absurd, and ludicrous aspects. To him human nature was an open book and he turned its secret pages. His powers of description were of the highest order. "It was a theory of Ben Hardin's," observes Dr. Rob Morris, "advanced in conversation on this subject, that there is only a certain amount of real wit in human nature. It is impossible, he said, that any large addition Like the gold in the hills, the quantity is limited and it costs dollar for dollar to get it out. He illustrated the theory by referring to a set of comic almanacs before him, showing that by beating the gold almost invisibly thin it may be spread over a vast surface." shall ever be made to it. Certainly wit and humor have their limitations, beyond which they can not reach. Each wit has his vein, and he must be content with its product and resigned at its ultimate exhaustion. John Phoenix and Artemus Ward each charmed in his own way, but each had doubtless displayed the brightest jewels of his wit before the casket was sealed forever. Yet their transmigrated spirits may sparkle in another generation, as Swinburne hath it, "making mirth for us all." Humor is, like the clouds, ever old and ever new-as old as the race, and as fresh as the last sunset. Hon. S. S. Cox, an authority in such matters, in "Why we Laugh " places Mr. Hardin among the foremost of legislative humorists: "Who can fill the place of Ben Hardin or Tom Corwin? No one has approached either, unless it be another Kentuckian, J. Proctor Knott, the present member from Bardstown. In him Kentucky gives to us a second edition of Hardin. * * * "These three members of Congress-Hardin, Corwin, and Knott-are selected," says Cox, "to illustrate this extravagant type of humor. Whence came this inspiration? All three were Kentuckians. It is said of Sheridan that he ripened a witty idea with a glass of port, and if it resulted happily another glass was the reward; like the Kentucky Congressman who took two cocktails before breakfast. When asked why, he said, 'One makes me feel like another fellow, and then I must treat the other fellow.' Is the humor which Kentucky gave, and gives, owing to any particular juice or humor growing out of her soil? Is it drawn from the 'still' air of delightful studies? Governor Corwin once told me that Hardin was the most entertaining man he ever knew. He had an exhaustless fund of anecdote, and with it great natural parts and acquired culture. His celebrity for a quarter of a century as a Southern Whig member of Congress was not altogether owing to his gift of remembering or telling good stories, nor to his bonhomie. Now, while Hardin is not to be classed with these characters which I have described, a greater disadvantage attends a sketch of his career as a humorist. He is not reported according to his reputation. His quarter of a century of service fails to show the voluminous fun with which he enlivened and enforced his positions. Here and there we have a few shots from small arms, as when he said meekly that if like a sheep I am shorn, unlike a sheep I will make a noise about it.' When denouncing extravagant naval salaries and referring to the naval lobby, he exclaimed, 'Their march may be on the mountain wave, but their home is-in the gallery!' * The reader is indebted to Dr. Rob Morris for the following expressions of Mr. Hardin on the general subject. Referring to the opinion expressed by Tom Corwin that the worst possible reputation for a politician was a reputation for wit, he said that when he made. a viva-voce argument, the logic is lost by the audience while they are waiting for the humor. He esteemed wit as a valuable auxiliary to a local fame, as, for instance, that of a lawyer upon his own circuit, but to one aspiring to larger fame it was an injury.† * Mr. Cox refers to the circumstance that in debate in Congress he had applied the epithet of "snarling Thersites" to a colleague from Massachusetts, as Caleb Cushing in 1835 had retorted the same epithet on Mr. Hardin. General James Wilkinson, in his "Memoirs" in 1816, thus referred to John Randolph, of Roanoke: "Unoffending, absent, and defenseless, I became the favorite theme of this American Thersites." "If I were giving advice to a young fellow of talent, with two or three facets to his mind, I would tell him by all means to keep his wit in the background until after he had made a reputation by his more solid qualities." (Autocrat, page 108.) |