Sensus communis, an essay on the freedom of wit and humour in a letter to a friend

Summary

Here presses the wolf, here the dog.

I have been considering, my friend, what your fancy was to express such a surprise as you did the other day when I happened to speak to you in commendation of raillery. Was it possible you should suppose me so grave a man as to dislike all conversation of this kind? Or were you afraid I should not stand the trial, if you put me to it, by making the experiment in my own case?

I must confess you had reason enough for your caution if you could imagine me at the bottom so true a zealot as not to bear the least raillery on my own opinions. It is the case, I know, with many. Whatever they think grave or solemn, they suppose must never be treated out of a grave and solemn way, though what another thinks so, they can be contented to treat otherwise and are forward to try the edge of ridicule against any opinions besides their own.

The question is whether this be fair or no, and whether it be not just and reasonable to make as free with our own opinions as with those of other people. For to be sparing in this case may be looked upon as a piece of selfishness.