Now from affectation only, the misfortunes and calamities of life, or the imperfections of nature, may become the objects of ridicule.  Surely he hath a very ill-framed mind, who can look on ugliness, infirmity, or poverty, as ridiculous in themselves:  nor do I believe any man living who meets a dirty fellow riding through the streets in a cart, is struck with an idea of the Ridiculous from it; but if he should see the same figure descend from his coach and six, or bolt from his chair with his hat under his arm, he would then begin to laugh, and with justice.  In the same manner, were we to enter a poor house and behold a wretched family shivering with cold and languishing with hunger, it would not incline us to laughter, (at least we must have very diabolical natures, if it would):  but should we discover there a grate, instead of coals, adorned with flowers, empty plate or china dishes on the side-board, or any other affectation of riches and finery either on their persons or in their furniture:  we might then indeed be excused, for ridiculing so fantastical an appearance.  Much less are natural imperfections the object of derision:  but when ugliness aims at the applause of beauty, or lameness endeavours to display agility; it is then that these unfortunate circumstances, which at first moved our compassion, tend only to raise our mirth.

The poet carries this very far;

  None are for being what they are in fault,
  But for not being what they would be thought.

Where if the metre would suffer the word Ridiculous to close the first line, the thought would be rather more proper.  Great vices are the proper objects of our detestation, smaller faults of our pity:  but affectation appears to me the only true source of the Ridiculous.

But perhaps it may be objected to me, that I have against my own rules introduced vices, and of a very black kind into this work.  To this I shall answer:  First, that it is very difficult to pursue a series of human actions and keep clear from them.  Secondly, that the vices to be found here, are rather the accidental consequences of some human frailty, or foible, than causes habitually existing in the mind.  Thirdly, that they are never set forth as the objects of ridicule, but detestation.  Fourthly, that they are never the principal figure at that time on the scene; lastly, they never produce the intended evil.

[Footnote A:  Henry Fielding, dramatist, novelist, and judge, was born near Glastonbury, Somersetshire, April 22, 1707, and died at Lisbon, October 8, 1754.  Though seldom spoken of as an essayist, Fielding scattered through his novels a large number of detached or detachable discussions which are essentially essays, of which the preface to “Joseph Andrews” on the “Comic Epic in Prose,” is a favorable specimen.  The novel which it introduces was begun as a parody on Richardson’s “Pamela,” and the preface gives Fielding’s conception of this form of fiction.]