Bible. Taken as a whole, it is massive, comprehensive, a revelation of the Infinite. Studied in its parts, it stimulates single faculties while it ministers nourishment to the whole frame. Its histories are more compact than those of Herodotus, Gibbon or Macaulay; its poetry, whose key is a mystery, quiets Homer, Shakespeare and Tennyson; its prophecies are unique climaxes of wisdom, both in drapery and substance; its biographies excel those of Plutarch, Irving, Carlyle and Boswell; its chronicles of wars are superior to those of Julius Cæsar, Wellington, Napoleon, and Ulysses Grant; its epistles eclipse those of Pliny, Madame Sevigne and Francis Bacon; its laws, in their ethical and spiritual import, are quite beyond Justinian, Blackstone and the English Parliament. Every phasis of literature, every norm of wisdom, is in the Bible. It ministers to all tastes and arouses the slumbering intellects of all who can comprehend the difference between reality and fiction, and who incline to virtue rather than vice. Ruskin confesses his indebtedness to the Bible, Homer and Sir Walter Scott, for his mental discipline; Charles Reade pronounces the characters in Scripture a literary marvel. Matthew Arnold daily read the New Testament in Greek for its style; Milton could not have written Paradise Lost without Genesis; Renan’s witchery of style is traceable to the New Testament. Job has taught the poets the art of construction, and David has sung an undying melody into the ears of the race. The Book of Ruth is the model idyl, and the Books of Esther and Daniel abound in incomparable dramatic elements; Isaiah has plumed the statesman for oratorical flights; Jeremiah has opened the fountains of pathos and sentiment in pathetic souls; Ezekiel has furnished a usable style of judicial denunciation for the criminal lawyer. Of all books, whether rhetoric, logic, vocabulary, poetry, philosophy, history, or whatever be the end, the Bible should be first and most carefully studied, its literary spirit and form should be closely traced and discerned, and its truth should be reverently incorporated into the daily speech, thought and life.”

But in this summary there is no mention made of the literary qualities which it is here proposed to consider. They are as completely ignored as if the very suggestion of their presence were profanation.

II.

The presumption is that in such a book, or rather collection of books as the Bible, the elements of Wit and Humor would be found. We have here the best historical, poetical, and moral works of a whole people. These documents cover in time more than a millennium and a half. It is more than probable that during that time amusing incidents occurred, even in connection with the religious trend of the history, some of which would be reported; that grotesque and odd characters existed, some of whom would be described, and their sayings and doings noted; that among the moral teachers of the people, there were some at least, who would point their precepts with wit and edge their rebukes with sarcasm. We should expect to find all these things, as we should expect to find pathos or sublimity. The humorous is just as legitimate in literature and quite as much an element of influence. It glows in all the other great books which have shaped the life and thought of mankind; and it is only fair to presume that we shall find its light shining from those pages that have been most potent of all.

But is not “the volume of this book” a serious one? Is it not profoundly in earnest? Are not its themes most solemn? Is not its purpose the highest under heaven, the most important to the inhabitants of earth? The conclusion, however, that the questioner has in mind is by no means inevitable. It is a mistake to suppose that humor is incompatible with seriousness, earnestness and solemnity. “As in one of my lectures,” says Henry Reed, “I spoke of attempting to draw too precise a line around sacred literature, making it too much a thing apart, so in regard to the literature of wit and humor. I shall be very sorry, if such a title as that which I have been obliged to use, led any one to think of it as of a more distinctive existence than is the case, instead of regarding those faculties as pervading the literature in various degrees, and thus forming some of the elements of its life. I shall have occasion to trace these elements in close connection with elements of tragedy, and to show how the processes we generalize under the names of wit and humor are kindred with the most intense passion and the deepest feeling.”

In human nature, the sources of laughter and tears lie close together, and the highest literature must express that nature in its entirety. “It is an understood fact,” says Whipple, “that mirth is as innate in the mind as any other original faculty. The absence of it in individuals or communities is a defect.” “He who laughs,” says the mother of Goethe, “can commit no deadly sin.” If it be true as Whipple says, that the absence of mirth in individuals or communities is a defect, then is the absence of it in literature likewise a defect. It is a defect because the literature which omits it fails to set forth all that there is in man. It leaves an important territory unexplored.

On the other hand, the literature which is designed to move and mold men must be addressed to human nature in its completeness. Freighted with destiny, charged with eternity as are the messages of the Bible, they are yet intended to impress men; they are addressed to human faculties in human speech. Whatever the capacities of language for touching the heart and operating upon the will, they may all be employed, though the theme soar to heaven or take hold on hell. The Bible is not an instrument of a single string; it gives forth a thousand harmonies. It is attuned to every note in human nature.

III.

Thus far we have simply dealt with the presumption. The considerations advanced show us what we might expect to find. When we proceed from presumption to actual investigation, our conjectures are verified. There are certainly passages in the Bible which in any other writings we should call Wit and Humor. Since this is the case, our discussion is legitimate, however repugnant the very suggestion may be to the feelings with which we are accustomed to regard the Bible.

Let us take some examples. If we found in any other book such a saying as this, “Dead flies cause the ointment of the apothecary to send forth a stinking savor, so doth a little folly him that is in great reputation for wisdom and honor,” should we not call it witty? Is it not witty as the Russian proverb “A spoonful of tar in a barrel of honey?”

Or consider such sentences as the following: “All the labor of a man is for his mouth, and yet his appetite is not filled.” “As he that taketh away a garment in cold weather, and as vinegar upon nitre, so is he that singeth songs to a heavy heart.” “Bread of deceit is sweet to a man, but afterwards his mouth shall be filled with gravel.” “He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him.” “A man of great wrath shall suffer punishment; for if thou deliver him, yet must thou do it again.” In other words, a man of violent temper is always getting into difficulties; you have no sooner helped him out of one than he madly plunges into another. Like the irascible person in the old nursery rhyme, who jumped into a bramble bush and scratched out both his eyes, he is no sooner extricated, than “with all his might and main, he jumps into another bush and puts them out again.” “Can a man take fire in his