Under the head of unconscious absurdities may be classed what are commonly called "bulls," implying like the French "bêtise" so great a deficiency of observation as to approach a kind of brutish stupidity only worthy of the lower animals. A man could not be charged with such obtuseness if he were only ignorant of some philosophical truth, or even of a fact commonly known, or if his mistake were clearly from inadvertence. I have heard the question asked "Which is it more correct to say. Seven and five is eleven, or seven and five are eleven?" and if a man reply hastily "Are is the more correct," he could not be charged with having made a "bull," any more than if a boy had made a mistake in a sum of addition or subtraction. If a foreigner says "I have got to-morrow's Times," we do not consider it a bull because he is ignorant that he should have said "yesterday's," and a person who does not understand Latin may be excused for saying "Under existing circumstances," perhaps long usage justifies the expression. For this reason, and also because no dulness is implied, we may safely say "the sun sets," or "the sun has gone in." To constitute a bull, there must be something glaringly self-contradictory in the statement. But every observation containing a contradiction does not show dulness of apprehension, but often talent and ingenuity. Poetry and humour are much indebted to such expressions—thus the old Greek writers often call offerings made to the dead "a kindness which is no kindness," and Horace speaks of "discordant harmony" and "active idleness." Some other contradictions are humorous, and most bulls would be so were they made purposely.[18] A genuine bull is never intentional. But few people would plead guilty to having shown bovine stupidity. They would shelter themselves under some of the various exceptions—perhaps explain that they attach a different meaning to the words, and that so the expressions are not so very incorrect, and all that could generally be proved against a man would be that he had used words in unaccustomed senses. Thus what appears to one person to be a "bull" seems a correct expression to another. I remember an Irishman telling me that in his country they had the finest climate in the world, and on my replying "Yes, I believe you have very little frost or snow," he rejoined "Oh, plinty, sir, plinty of frost and snow—but frost and snow is not cold in Ireland." He was quite serious—intended no joke. He evidently used the term "cold," not only in reference to temperature, but also to the amount of discomfort usually suffered from it. And that it may sometimes be used in a metaphorical sense is evident from our expressions "a cold heart," "a freezing manner."

Sometimes people would attribute their mistake to inadvertence, and so escape from the charge of stupidity implied in a "bull." A friend who told me that a Mr. Carter was "a seller of everything, and other things besides," would probably have urged this excuse. The writer of the following in the "agony" column of a daily paper, "Dear Tom. Come immediately if you see this. If not come on Saturday," would contend that there was only a slight omission, and that the meaning was evidently "if you see this to-day." From inadvertence I have heard it said in commendation of a celebrated artist, that "he painted dead game—to the life." Sir Boyle Roche is said to have exclaimed in a fit of enthusiasm "that Admiral Howe would sweep the French fleet off the face of the earth."

But it may be urged that there are some observations which no man can excuse or account for, and of such a nature that even the person who makes them must admit that they are "bulls." Such, for instance, as that of the Irishman, who being shown an alarum said, "Oh, sure, I see. I've only to pull the string when I want to awake myself." But such sayings are not "bulls," only humorous inventions. They represent a greater amount of density than any one ever possessed. That the above saying is invented, is proved by the simple fact that alarums have no strings to pull. In the same way the lines quoted by Lever—

"Success to the moon, she's a dear noble creature
And gives us the daylight all night in the dark,"

did not emanate from a dull, but a clever man.

A "bull" is an imputation of stupidity made by the hearer through the inadvertence of the speaker in whose mind there is no contradiction, but a want of precision in thought or expression. It is a common error where the imagination is stronger than the critical faculty.

The use of cant words renders jests imperfectly intelligible. Greek humour was clearer in this respect than that of the present day, especially since our vocabulary has been so much enriched from America. Puns also restrict the pleasantries dependent on them to one country, no great loss perhaps, though the greater part of German humour is thus rendered obscure. "Remember," writes Lord Chesterfield, "that the wit, humour, and jokes of most companies are local. They thrive in that particular soil, but will not often bear transplanting. Every company is differently circumstanced, has its peculiar cant and jargon, which may give occasion to wit and mirth within the circle, but would seem flat and insipid in any other, and therefore will not bear repeating. Nothing makes a man look sillier than a pleasantry not relished, or not understood, and if he meets with a profound silence when he expected a general applause, or what is worse if he is desired to explain the bon mot, his awkward and embarrassed situation is easier imagined than described." But ignorance of the meaning of words, while it destroys one kind of amusement sometimes creates another. The mistakes of the deaf and of foreigners are often ludicrous. A French gentleman told me that on the morning after his arrival in Italy he rang his bell and called "De l'eau chaude." As he did not seem to be understood he made signs to his face, and the waiter nodded and withdrew. It was a long time before he reappeared, but when he entered the delay was accounted for, as he had been out to purchase a pot of rouge!

But mistakes with regard to the meanings of words are not so common as with regard to their references. We are often ignorant of the state of society, or the manners and customs to which allusion is made. This is the reason why so much of the humour of bygone ages escapes us. In ancient Greece to call a man a frequenter of baths was an insult, not a commendation as it would be at present. With them the class who are "so very clean and so very silly" was large, and the golden youth of the period, under the pretence of ablution, spent their time in idleness and luxury in these "baths"—which corresponded in some respects to our clubs. To give an example in modern literature—when Charles Lamb in his Life of Liston records that his hero was descended from a Johan d'Elistone, who came over with the Conqueror, and was rewarded for his prowess with a grant of land at Lupton Magna, many people had so little knowledge or insight as to take this humorous invention to be an historical fact.

Laughter for want of knowledge is especially manifested among savages, when they first come into contact with civilization. A missionary relating his experiences among the South Sea islanders observes how much he was astonished at their laughing at what seemed to him the most ordinary occurrences. This was owing to their utter ignorance of matters commonly known to us. He tells us one day when the sailors were boring a hole to put a vent peg into a cask, the fermentation caused the porter to spirt out upon them. One of them tried in vain to stop it with his hand, but it flew through his fingers. Meanwhile a native who stood by burst into a fit of immoderate laughter. The sailor, thinking it a serious matter to lose so much good liquor, asked him rather angrily why he was laughing at the porter running out. "Oh," replied the native, "I'm not laughing at its coming out, but at thinking what trouble it must have cost you to put it in."

But ignorance has often produced opposite results to these, and caused very ludicrous statements to be made seriously. Thus a French Gazette reports that "Lord Selkirk arrived in Paris this morning. He is a descendant of the famous Selkirk whose adventures suggested to Defoe his Robinson Crusoe." Among the various curious and useful items of knowledge contained in the "Almanach de Gotha,"—the first number of which was published 111 years ago—we find it gravely stated that the Manghians of the island of Mindoro are furnished with tails exactly five inches in length, and the women of Formosa with beards half a foot long. I remember having, upon one occasion, visited the Mammertine prison at Rome with a young friend preparing for the army, and his asking me "What had St. Peter and St. Paul done to be confined here?" "They were here for being Christians," I replied, "Oh, were St. Peter and St. Paul Christians? I suppose they were put in prison by these horrid Roman Catholics."