Essays on Wit No. 2

In Short

This collection of eighteenth-century essays and seventeenth-century character sketches maps the contested boundaries of literary wit, humor, and satire. Scholars and essayists debate whether true wit belongs in serious art or merely serves as decorative fancy, contrasting ancient classical models with modern achievements. Through close readings of Shakespeare, Otway, and Molière, alongside sharp portraits of tavern pretenders, the texts examine how changing social manners shaped public discourse. The collection endures as a vital historical bridge, illuminating how Neoclassical writers sought to balance intellectual judgment with imaginative surprise.

The Story

The volume opens with a scholarly introduction outlining how writers in the era of Dryden and Pope struggled to define wit. Early thinkers like Dr. Isaac Barrow framed it as a surprising, unconventional way of speaking that delights the imagination. As Hobbes and Locke raised questions of semantics and reason, critics began dividing intellectual labor: reason uncovers truth, while fancy—and by extension, wit—merely decorates language with figures and tropes.

An anonymous eighteenth-century essayist builds upon this division, arguing that high-flown wit is entirely out of place in moments of grave tragedy or heroic action. A true hero facing mortal danger or grief does not pause to construct elegant epigrams or long-winded similes. To illustrate, the writer points to Chamont’s elaborate floral metaphor in Thomas Otway's tragedy The Orphan, noting that while the lines sound beautiful on stage, an enraged brother in a crisis would never deliver such a calculated speech. The author similarly questions Addison's end-of-act similes in Cato, contrasting these ornate affectations with the genuine, unadorned nobility of Shakespeare’s Brutus learning of Portia's death. Wit belongs appropriately in smaller forms—madrigals, light verse, comedy, and private letters—where playfulness is expected.

The focus then shifts from literary theory to social caricature in Richard Flecknoe’s seventeenth-century sketches. Flecknoe draws sharp portraits of social pretenders, detailing the low habits of the false wit who imitates true tavern companions using stale jokes and loud, disorderly antics.

Joseph Warton continues the investigation through two entries from The Adventurer, weighing ancient literary accomplishments against modern achievements. Warton concedes that ancient Greece and Rome excel in epic poetry, original painting, concise history, and classical architecture. Modern epic attempts depend heavily on copied scriptural grandeur, and ancient historians wrote as battle-tested leaders rather than recluse scholars. However, Warton insists that modern writers surpass the ancients in comedy, satire, and burlesque. Classical comedy, such as that of Aristophanes, relied on coarse abuse and distorted caricatures, whereas Molière mastered character development by isolating singular human flaws like hypocrisy and avarice. Furthermore, modern satirists like Boileau and Pope refine direct Roman abuse into elegant, polished irony. Warton attributes this modern leap in satire to the rise of courtly conversation and refined social gatherings, which expose subtle behavioral absurdities. The volume closes with a brief journal piece defining wit as a sudden, lightning-like spark of imagination that pairs unexpected ideas to create immediate joy.

How It Unfolds

The problem of definition Early commentators attempt to pin down an elusive concept, charting how wit drifted from a broad synonym for wisdom and good sense toward a specific spark of fancy. Writers debate whether imaginative flashes enlighten the mind or simply distract from rational truth.

Tragedy stripped of ornament An anonymous essayist argues that intense emotion demands simple, unvarnished speech rather than clever literary devices. Examples from Otway and Addison show how misplaced similes pull the audience out of a drama by exposing the poet behind the character.

Caricaturing the pretender Richard Flecknoe presents a vivid character sketch of an abusive, low-tier wit who haunts taverns. This figure relies on stale humor, loud outbursts, and recycled play lines to score cheap laughs from the crowd.

Evaluating the ancients Joseph Warton compares classical and eighteenth-century artistic triumphs across epic poetry, painting, historical writing, and architecture. He concludes that ancient masters hold an unassailable lead in grand design and heroic expression.

The triumph of modern satire Warton examines the history of comedy, arguing that modern playwrights like Molière and poets like Pope outshine Aristophanes and Horace. Improved social manners and courtly dialogue give modern writers the ideal foundation for delicate, highly effective ridicule.

The People

• The Anonymous Essayist

Wants to establish clear boundaries for poetic taste and protect dramatic writing from superficial ornament. Disturbed by poets who display their own cleverness during high tragic moments, this critic insists that true emotional power relies on noble simplicity rather than elaborate metaphors.

• Richard Flecknoe

Seeks to expose social affectation and distinguish genuine wit from noisy vulgarity. He skewers the tavern pretender, illustrating how coarse imitation and worn-out jokes fail to move educated listeners.

• Joseph Warton

Wants to evaluate the evolution of human genius through a balanced comparison of classical and modern arts. Although he holds ancient epic poets and sculptors in high esteem, he defends modern superiority in satire and comedy, attributing the advance to polished social customs.

• Molière

Highlighted by Warton as the preeminent master of modern comedy. He succeeds where ancient writers failed by examining human nature to construct characters around single, deeply observed traits like greed or hypocrisy.

In Its Own Voice

"Priam and Hecuba don't make Epigrams, when their Children's Throats are cut and Troy in Flames..."

— An essayist argues that genuine grief rejects clever poetic flourishes.

"He is a wit of an under Region, grosly imitating on the lower rope, what t'other does neatly on the higher..."

— Richard Flecknoe describes the desperate antics of a tavern jester.

"The ancients had more liberty and seriousness; the moderns have more luxury and laughter."

— Joseph Warton explains why modern society excels in satire and comedy.

What It's Really About

The collection centers on the ongoing struggle between reason and imagination in early modern literature. It questions whether creative verbal play enhances truth or merely decorates the surface of prose and drama. By examining tragedy, comedy, and satire, the authors ask what kind of language best reflects human nature under stress. They examine how language changes across eras, debating whether modern cultural refinements lead to artistic decay or to more sophisticated forms of social observation. Ultimately, the book investigates how literature mirrors the manners, politics, and social habits of the society that produces it.

Why Read It Today

This collection offers an illuminating look at how eighteenth-century readers evaluated their own culture against classical antiquity. Anyone interested in the history of literary criticism, the evolution of comedy, or Neoclassical aesthetic theory will find these essays remarkably clear and sharp. Reading the volume feels like sitting in on a lively, high-minded debate among polished critics who care deeply about the exact placement of a metaphor or the social function of a joke.

Readers should expect some period challenges, including untranslated Latin epigraphs, archaic spelling conventions, and casual references to mid-eighteenth-century theatrical productions. The essayists also assume familiarity with classical figures like Thucydides and Plautus. However, their prose remains surprisingly accessible and engaging. The arguments are direct, the literary examples are drawn from enduring classics like Shakespeare and Milton, and the underlying questions—what makes something funny, and when does cleverness get in the way of truth—remain as relevant today as when these pieces were written.