When in the graveyard one reads an inscription on a gravestone in which a man mourns his lost little daughter but finally breaks out in verse: Comfort thee, reason, she lives, singed Hilarius Master-Butcher -- there's much comedy here: first, in the context, the very name Hilarius has comic effect, then the worthy-sounding Master-Butcher, and finally the outburst: reason! One can imagine a professor of philosophy mistaking himself for reason, but a master-butcher would not imagine that.