II.

A child destined to be a plaything for men--such a thing has existed;

such a thing exists even now. In simple and savage times such a thing

constituted an especial trade. The 17th century, called the great

century, was of those times. It was a century very Byzantine in tone. It

combined corrupt simplicity with delicate ferocity--a curious variety of

civilization. A tiger with a simper. Madame de Sevigné minces on the

subject of the fagot and the wheel. That century traded a good deal in

children. Flattering historians have concealed the sore, but have

divulged the remedy, Vincent de Paul.

In order that a human toy should succeed, he must be taken early. The

dwarf must be fashioned when young. We play with childhood. But a

well-formed child is not very amusing; a hunchback is better fun.

Hence grew an art. There were trainers who took a man and made him an

abortion; they took a face and made a muzzle; they stunted growth; they

kneaded the features. The artificial production of teratological cases

had its rules. It was quite a science--what one can imagine as the

antithesis of orthopedy. Where God had put a look, their art put a

squint; where God had made harmony, they made discord; where God had

made the perfect picture, they re-established the sketch; and, in the

eyes of connoisseurs, it was the sketch which was perfect. They debased

animals as well; they invented piebald horses. Turenne rode a piebald

The Man Who Laughs