deceased Mr.
Shadwell
, who had himself a great deal of the Talent, which I am treating of, represents an empty Rake, in one of his Plays, as very much surprized to hear one say that breaking of Windows was not Humour
; and I question not but several
English
Readers will be as much startled to hear me affirm, that many of those raving incoherent Pieces, which are often spread among us, under odd Chimerical Titles, are rather the Offsprings of a Distempered Brain, than Works of Humour.
It is indeed much easier to describe what is not Humour, than what is; and very difficult to define it otherwise than as
Cowley
has done Wit, by Negatives. Were I to give my own Notions of it, I would deliver them after