 thirteen: So
that upon his first setting out, the brisk gale of his spirits, as you will
imagine, ran him foul ten times in a day of some body's tackling; and as the
grave and more slow-paced were oftenest in his way, -- you may likewise imagine,
'twas with such he had generally the ill luck to get the most entangled. For
aught I know there might be some mixture of unlucky wit at the bottom of such
Fracas: - For, to speak the truth, Yorick had an invincible dislike and
opposition in his nature to gravity; -- not to gravity as such; -- for where
gravity was wanted, he would be the most grave and serious of mortal men for
days and weeks together; - but he was an enemy to the affectation of it, and
declared open war against it, only as it appeared a cloak for ignorance, or for
folly; and then, whenever it fell in his way, however sheltered and protected,
he seldom gave it much quarter.
    Sometimes, in his wild way of talking, he would say, That gravity was an
errant scoundrel; and he would add, - of the most dangerous kind too, - because
a sly one; and that, he verily believed, more honest, well-meaning people were
bubbled out of their goods and money by it in one twelve-month, than by
pocket-picking and shop-lifting in seven. In the naked temper which a merry
heart discovered, he would say, There was no danger, - but to itself; - whereas
the very essence of gravity was design, and consequently deceit; - 'twas a
taught trick to gain credit of the world for more sense and knowledge than a man
was worth; and that, with all its pretensions, - it was no better, but often
worse, than what a French wit had long ago defined it, - viz. A mysterious
carriage of the body to cover the defects of the mind; - which definition of
gravity, Yorick, with great imprudence, would say, deserved to be wrote in
letters of gold.
    But, in plain truth, he was a man unhackneyed and unpractised in the world,
and was altogether as indiscreet and foolish on every other subject of discourse
where policy is wont to impress restraint. Yorick had no impression but one, and
that was what arose from the nature of the deed spoken of; which impression he
would usually translate into plain English without any periphrasis, -- and too
oft without much distinction of either personage, time,
