I have introduced these considerations, because it is very difficult for us to realize that what we behold is merely phenomenal, that

     “Things are not what they seem;”

but that we are looking into the mirror of Nature at our own likeness.  When we speak of a ludicrous occurrence, we cannot avoid thinking that the external events themselves contain something of that character.  Thus, the ludicrous has come in our ideas and language to be separated from the sense in which alone it exists, and it is desirable that we should clearly understand that the distinction is only logical and not real.

When the cause of our laughter—­be it mind, matter, or imaginary circumstance—­is merely regarded as something incongruous and amusing, we name it the ludicrous, and a man is called ludicrous as faulty or contemptible.  But when the cause of it is viewed as something more than this, as coming from some conscious power or tendency within us—­a valuable gift and an element in our mental constitution—­we call it humour, a term applied only to human beings and their productions; and a man is called humorous as worthy of commendation.  Both are in truth feelings—­we might say one feeling—­and although we can conceive humour to exist apart from the ludicrous, and to be a power within us creating it, there is a difficulty in following out the distinction.  The difference between them is in our regard.

As soon as in course of time it became plainly evident that gay creations might emanate from man, and not only from the outer world, the fact was marked by the formation of a distinctive name, and by degrees several names—­among which the most comprehensive in English is Humour.  This kind of gift became gradually known as more or less possessed by all, and when the operations of the mind came to be recognised, we were more enlightened on the subject, and acknowledged it to be a mental and creative power.  Such admissions would not be made by men in general without some very strong evidence, and therefore a humorous man was not merely one who had an internal sense of the ludicrous, but one who employed it for the delectation of others.  Hence, also, though there is no consciousness of being amusing in the man who is ludicrous, there is in one that is humorous.  A wit must always be pleasant intentionally.  A man who in sober seriousness recounts something which makes us laugh is not humorous, although his want of discrimination may not be sufficient to make him ludicrous.  Children are not regarded as humorous, for, although they enjoy such simple humour as toys afford, they very seldom notice what is merely ludicrous, and do not reproduce it in any way; and the same may be said of many grown persons, who require to be fed as it were, and although they can enjoy what is embellished by others, have no original observation.  Thus, although Herbert Mayo is substantially correct in saying that “humour is the sentiment of the ludicrous,” he might have added that