which the ancients had not dreamed, and showed how ridicule could
be conveyed in a form difficult to resent. About the same time,
probably, the popular instinct, perhaps deriving a hint from
Rabbinical literature, fashioned Morolf, the prototype of Sancho
Panza, the incarnation of sublunar mother-wit contrasted with the
starry wisdom of Solomon; and the Till Eulenspiegel is a kindred
Teutonic creation, but later and less significant. Piers Ploughman,
the next great work of the class, adapts the apocalyptic machinery
of monastic and anchoritic vision to the purposes of satire, as it had
often before been adapted to those of ecclesiastical aggrandizement.
The clergy were scourged with their own rod by a poet and a Puritan
too earnest to be urbane. Satire is a distinct element in Chaucer and
Boccaccio, who nevertheless cannot be ranked as satirists. The
mock-heroic is successfully revived by Luigi Pulci, and the political
songs of the 14th and 15th centuries attest the diffusion of a sense
of humour among the people at large. The Renaissance, restoring
the knowledge and encouraging the imitation of classic models,
sharpened the weapons and enlarged the armoury of the satirist.
Partly, perhaps, because Erasmus was no poet, the Lucianic dialogue
was the form in the ascendant of his age. Erasmus not merely
employed it against superstition and ignorance with infinite and
irresistible pleasantry, but fired by his example a bolder writer, untrammelled
by the dignity of an arbiter in the republic of letters.
The ridicule of Ulric von Hutten’s Epistolae obscurorum virorum is
annihilating, and the art there for the first time fully exemplified
though long previously introduced by Plato, of putting the ridicule
into the mouth of the victim, is perhaps the most deadly shaft in the
quiver of sarcasm. It was afterwards used with even more pointed
wit though with less exuberance of humour by Pascal, the first
modern example, if Dante may not be so classed of a great tragic
satirist. Ethical satire is vigorously represented by Sebastian
Brant and his imitator Alexander Barclay; but in general the
metrical satirists of the age seem tame in comparison with Erasmus
and Hutten, though including the great name of Machiavelli. Sir
Thomas More cannot be accounted a satirist, but his idea of an
imaginary commonwealth embodied the germ of much subsequent
satire.
In the succeeding period politics take the place of literature and religion, producing in France the Satyre Mértippée, elsewhere the satirical romance as represented by the Argenis of Barclay, which may be defined as the adaptation of the style of Petronius to state affairs. In Spain, where no freedom of criticism existed, the satiric spirit took refuge in the novela picaresca, the prototype of Le Sage and the ancestor of Fielding; Quevedo revived the medieval device of the vision as the vehicle of reproof; and Cervantes’s immortal work might be classed as a satire were it not so much more. About the same time we notice the appearance of direct imitation of the Roman satirists in English literature in the writings of Donne, Hall and Marston, the further elaboration of the mock-heroic by Tassoni, and the culmination of classical Italian satire in Salvator Rosa. The prodigious development of the drama at this time absorbed much talent that would otherwise have been devoted to satire proper. Most of the great dramatists of the 17th century were more or less satirists, Molière perhaps the most consummate that ever existed; but, with an occasional exception like Les Précieuses ridicules, the range of their works is too wide to admit of their being regarded as satires. The next great example of unadulterated satire is Butler’s Hudibras, and perhaps one more truly representative of satiric aims and methods cannot easily be found. At the same period dignified political satire, bordering on invective, received a great development in Andrew Marvell’s Advices to a Painter, and was shortly afterwards carried to perfection in Dryden’s Absalom and Achitophel; while the light literary parody of which Aristophanes had given the pattern in his assaults on Euripides, and which Shakespeare had handled somewhat carelessly in the Midsummer Night’s Dream, was effectively revived in the duke of Buckingham’s Rehearsal. In France Boileau was long held to have attained the ne plus ultra of the Horatian style in satire and of the mock-heroic, but Pope was soon to show that further progress was possible in both. The polish, point and concentration of Pope remain unsurpassed, as do the amenity of Addison and the daring yet severely logical imagination of Swift; while the History of John Bull and the Pseudologia place their friend Arbuthnot in the first rank of political satirists.
The 18th century was, indeed, the age of satire. Serious poetry had for the time worn itself out; the most original geniuses of the age, Swift, Defoe and Richardson, are decidedly prosaic, and Pope, though a true poet, is less of a poet than Dryden. In process of time imaginative power revives in Goldsmith and Rousseau; meanwhile Fielding and Smollett have fitted the novel to be the vehicle of satire and much beside, and the literary stage has for a time been almost wholly engrossed by a colossal satirist, a man who has dared the universal application of Shaftesbury’s maxim that ridicule is the test of truth. The world had never before seen a satirist on the scale of Voltaire, nor had satire ever played such a part as a factor in impending change. As a master of sarcastic mockery he is unsurpassed; his manner is entirely his own; and he is one of the most intensely national of writers, notwithstanding his vast obligations to English humorists, statesmen and philosophers. English humour also played an important part in the literary regeneration of Germany, where, after Liscow and Rabener, imitators of Swift and the essayists, Lessing, imbued with Pope but not mastered by him, showed how powerful an auxiliary satire can be to criticism—a relation which Pope had somewhat inverted. Another great German writer, Wieland, owes little to the English, but adapts Lucian and Petronius to the 18th century with playful if somewhat mannered grace. Fortum’s Jobsiad, a most humorous poem, innovates successfully upon established models by making low life, instead of chivalry, the subject of burlesque. Goethe and Schiller, Scott and Wordsworth, are now at hand, and as imagination gains ground satire declines. Byron, who in the 18th century would have been the greatest of satirists, is hurried by the spirit of his age into passion and description, bequeathing, however, a splendid proof of the possibility of allying satire with sublimity in his Vision of Judgment. Moore gives the epigram a lyrical turn; Béranger, not for the first time in French literature, makes the gay chanson the instrument of biting jest; and the classic type receives fresh currency from Auguste Barbier. Courier, and subsequently Cormenin, raise the political pamphlet to literary dignity by their poignant wit. Peacock evolves a new type of novel from the study of Athenian comedy. Miss Edgeworth skirts the confines of satire, and Miss Austen seasons her novels with the most exquisite satiric traits. Washington Irving revives the manner of The Spectator, and Tieck brings irony and persiflage to the discussion of critical problems. Two great satiric figures remain—one representative of his nation, the other most difficult to class. In all the characteristics of his genius Thackeray is thoroughly English, and the faults and follies he chastises are those especially characteristic of British society. Good sense and the perception of the ridiculous are amalgamated in him; his satire is a thoroughly British article, a little over-solid, a little wanting in finish, but honest, weighty and durable. Posterity must go to him for the humours of the age of Victoria, as they go to Addison for those of Anne’s. But Heine hardly belongs to any nation or country, time or place. He ceased to be a German without becoming a Frenchman, and a Jew without becoming a Christian. Only one portrait really suits him, that in Tieck’s allegorical tale, where he is represented as a capricious and mischievous elf; but his song is sweeter and his command over the springs of laughter and tears greater than it suited Tieck’s purpose to acknowledge. In him the satiric spirit, long confined to established literary forms, seems to obtain unrestrained freedom to wander where it will, nor have the ancient models been followed since by any considerable satirist except the Italian Giusti. The machinery employed by Moore was indeed transplanted to America by James Russell Lowell, whose Biglow Papers represent perhaps the highest moral level yet attained by satire.
In no age was the spirit of satire so generally diffused as in the 19th century, but many of its eminent writers, while bordering on the domains of satire, escape the definition of satirist. The term cannot be properly applied to Dickens, the keen observer of the oddities of human life; or to George Eliot, the critic of its emptiness when not inspired by a worthy purpose; or to Balzac, the painter of French society; or to Trollope, the mirror of the middle classes of England. If Sartor Resartus could be regarded as a satire, Carlyle woulci rank among the first of satirists; but the satire, though very obvious, rather accompanies than inspires the composition. The number of minor satirists of merit, on the other hand, is legion. Poole, in his broadly farcical Little Pedlington, rang the changes with inexhaustible ingenuity on a single fruitful idea; Jerrold’s comedies sparkle with epigrams, and his tales and sketches overflow with quaint humour; Mallock, in his New Republic, made the most of personal mimicry, the lowest form of satire; Samuel Butler (Erewhon) holds an inverting mirror to the world’s face with imperturbable gravity; the humour of Bernard Shaw has always an essential character of satire the sharpest social lash. One remarkable feature of the modern age is the union of caricature (q.v.) with literature. (R. G.)
SATISFACTION (Lat. satisfacere, to satisfy), reparation for
an injury or offence; payment, pecuniary or otherwise, of a
debt or obligation; particularly, in law, and equitable doctrine
of much importance. It may operate either as between strangers
or as between father and child. As between strangers: it was
laid down in Talbot v. Duke of Shrewsbury, 1714, Pr. Ch. 394,
that where a debtor bequeaths to his creditors legacy as great
as, or greater than the debt, the legacy shall be deemed a satisfaction
of the debt. This rule, however, has fallen under a considerable
amount of discredit, and very small circumstances are
required to rebut the presumption of satisfaction. If the debt
was incurred after the execution of the will, there is no satisfaction,
nor is there where the will giving the legacy contains a
direction to pay debts. As between parent and child, the
doctrine operates (a) in the satisfaction of legacies by portions,
and (b) of portions by legacies. In the case of (a), it has been
laid down that where a parent, or one acting in loco parentis,
gives a legacy to a child, without stating the purpose for which
he gives it, it will be understood as a portion; and if the father
afterwards advance a portion on the marriage, or preferment