- telligence have no objection to pungency and forcefulness,
but they have no real need for truculence or unfairness. It is, as Garnett suggests, the unsophisticated man who regards satire as the offspring of ill-nature. Such was the intellectual status of Lady Middleton, who could not feel an affinity for Elinor and Marianne Dashwood:[1]
"Because they neither flattered herself nor her children, she
could not believe them good-natured; and because they were
fond of reading, she fancied them satirical: perhaps without exactly
knowing what it was to be satirical; but that did not signify.
It was censure in common use, and easily given."
The vague notion that a satirist is something disagreeable
will of course never quite be eradicated, at least not
until people learn to like being ridiculed and criticised.
But in manner he is undeniably growing less disagreeable
than has been his wont. Another reason for this, in addition
to the changes already noted, is the increased activity
of that reflexive sense of humor which operates as an antitoxin
to the vanity inherent in all critics. A wholesome
fear of being absurd serves to reduce one's chances of being
that rich anomaly, a ridiculous satirist. The modern
satirist may possess a mind conscious to itself of right and
a conviction that he has a mission to perform. But he is
more prone to conceal or even disclaim these things than
to advertise them. Even Fielding did not proclaim, as he
might have done, that he first adventured. Peacock trusted
to his readers to discover that fools being his theme,
satire must be his song. Since his time, satire, while questioning
all things with a new penetration, has succeeded
in taking on an air of unconcern and in realizing that neither
promises nor apologies are necessary. Post-Byronic
- ↑ Sense and Sensibility, 244.
