There is a great deal more
than this; for what is positive and intentional in a truly great book is
often little in comparison with what is accidental and suggested. The
plot is of the meagrest. A country gentleman of La Mancha, living very
much by himself, and continually feeding his fancy with the romances of
chivalry, becomes at last the victim of a monomania on this one subject,
and resolves to revive the order of chivalry in his own proper person.
He persuades a somewhat prosaic neighbor of his to accompany him as
squire. They sally forth, and meet with various adventures, from which
they reap no benefit but the sad experience of plentiful rib-roasting.
Now if this were all of "Don Quixote," it would be simply broad farce,
as it becomes in Butler's parody of it in Sir Hudibras and Ralpho so far
as mere external characteristics are concerned. The latter knight and
his squire are the most glaring absurdities, without any sufficient
reason for their being at all, or for their adventures, except that they
furnished Butler with mouthpieces for his own wit and wisdom. They
represent nothing, and are intended to represent nothing.
I confess that, in my judgment, Don Quixote is the most perfect
character ever drawn. As Sir John Falstaff is, in a certain sense,
always a gentleman,--that is, as he is guilty of no crime that is
technically held to operate in defeasance of his title to that name as a
man of the world,--so is Don Quixote, in everything that does not
concern his monomania, a perfect gentleman and a good Christian besides.
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