nd beat a speedy retreat.

PART VIII.

MIRTH.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

WIT OF LAWYERS.

No lawyer has given better witticisms to the jest-books than Sir Thomas
More. Like all legal wits, he enjoyed a pun, as Sir Thomas Manners, the
mushroom Earl of Rutland discovered, when he winced under the cutting
reproof of his insolence, conveyed in the translation of 'Honores mutant
mores'--_Honors change manners_. But though he would condescend to play
with words as a child plays with shells on a sea-beach, he could at will
command the laughter of his readers without having recourse to mere
verbal antics. He delighted in what may be termed humorous
mystification. Entering Bruges at a time when his leaving had gained
European notoriety, he was met by the challenge of a noisy fellow who
proclaimed himself ready to dispute with the whole world--or any other
man--"in omni scibili et de quolibet ente." Accepting the invitation,
and entering the lists in the presence of all the scholastic magnates of
Bruges, More gravely inquired, "An averia carucae capta in vetitonamio
sint irreplegibilia?" Not versed in the principles and terminology of
the common law of England, the challenger could only stammer and
blush--whilst More's eye twinkled maliciously, and his auditors were
convulsed with laughter.

Much of his humor was of the sort that is ordinarily called _quiet_
humor, because its effect does not pass off in shouts of merriment. Of
this kind of pleasantry he gave the Lieutenant of the Tower a specimen,
when he said, with as much courtesy as irony, "Assure yourself I do not
dislike my cheer; but whenever I do, then spare not to thrust me out of
your doors!" Of the same sort were the pleasantries with which, on the
morning of his execution, he with fine consideration for others strove
to divert attention from the cruelty of his doom. "I see no danger," he
observed, with a smile, to his friend Sir Thomas Pope, shaking his
water-bottle as he spoke, "but that this man may live longer if it
please the king." Finding in the craziness of the scaffold a good
pretext for leaning in friendly fashion on his gaoler's arm, he extended
his hand to Sir William Kingston, saying, "Master Lieutenant, I pray you
see me safe up; for my coming down let me shift for myself." Even to the
headsman he gave a gentle pleasantry and a smile from the block itself,
as he put aside his beard so that the keen blade should not touch it.
"Wait, my good fri