principle is soon understood and dogmatically announced; and it now appears as an axiom to this effect,—that ‘Ridicule is the touchstone of truth,’ and consequently that anything may be at once recognised as false, without farther proof, if a jest can be raised at its expense,—in the manner indicated above.
Observe the immense advantages which an Age acquires through this, at first sight, insignificant discovery. In the first place, it is by this means established in secure possession of its own wisdom; for the Age will always be careful not to apply this test of the Ridiculous to its own Knowledge, nor to join in the laugh should others so apply it,—an application which is not at all impossible. It is thus spared the trouble of disproving what is brought against it, and has no more to do than to show how far this is from agreement with its own views, and from having hit the mark of its opinion; thus making its opponents ridiculous, and,—should it bring ill-humour in its train,—suspected and even hated. Finally, this laughter is in itself a pleasant and healthy recreation, by which the most oppressive ennui may frequently be dispelled.
No!—I speak to all here present without exception, in whom I believe that I speak not to members of the Third Age, with whom indeed I never wish to speak, nor to members of any other Age,—but of whom I suppose that they are with myself elevated above all Time, and are now looking down on this particular portion of it:—no, I say, Wit is a godlike spark, and never condescends to Folly. It dwells eternally with the Idea, and never quits its fellowship. In its first shape, it is the wonderful light-conductor in the Spiritual World, by which Wisdom spreads from the point on which she first alights until she reach and embrace all other points. In its second shape, it is the avenging lightning of the Idea, which seeks out every folly, even in the midst of its disciples, and surely strikes it to the
