The Question stated.—Views of Locke and Dryden.—Under what circumstances, then, is the feeling of the ludicrous awakened? What is that certain peculiarity, or quality, of a certain class of objects, which constitutes what we call the ludicrous, objectively considered? Various answers have been given to this question, by writers not unaccustomed to the careful observation of mental phenomena. Mr. Locke's definition of wit is to this effect, that it consists in "putting those ideas together with quickness and variety, wherein can be found any resemblance or congruity, whereby to make up pleasant pictures and agreeable visions in the fancy." This, it has been justly remarked, is too comprehensive, since it includes the entire range of eloquence and poetry. It comprends the sublime and the beautiful as well as the witty. It applies to the most facetious passages of Hudibras; it applies equally well to the most eloquent passages of Burke or Webster, and to many of the finest passages of Paradise Lost. Still more comprehensive is Dryden's definition, who says of wit, that it is a propriety of thoughts and words, or thoughts and words eloquently adapted to the subject, a definition which, it has been jocosely remarked, would include at once Blair's Sermons, Campbell's Pleasures of Hope, Cæsar's Commentaries, the Philippics of Cicero, and the funeral orations of Bossuet, as peculiarly witty productions. It should in justice be remarked, however, that neither Dryden nor Locke, in their use of the term wit, seem to have had in mind what we now understand by it, viz., facetiousness, or the mirth-provoking power, but rather to have employed the word in that more general sense, in which it was formerly almost exclusively used, to denote smartness and vigor of the intellectual powers, good sense, sound judgment, quickness of the apprehension, more particularly as these qualities are exhibited in discourse or in writing.
Definition of Johnson.—Johnson comes nearer the mark when he defines wit as "a kind of concordia discors, a combination of dissimilar images, a discovery of occult resemblances in things apparently unlike." Not much removed from this, if not indeed derived from it, is the definition of wit given by Campbell, in his Philosophy of Rhetoric—"that which excites agreeable surprise in the mind, by the strange assemblage of related images presented to it." To this, also, applies the same objection as to the preceding definitions, that it includes too much, the beautiful and sublime not less than the ludicrous, eloquence as well as wit.
Of Hobbes.—Hobbes defines laughter, which, so far as relates to the mind, is merely the expression of the feeling of the ludicrous, to be "a sudden glory, arising from a sudden conception of some eminency in ourselves, by comparison with the infirmity of others, or our own former infirmity." There can be little doubt, I think, that the object which excites laughter, always present itself to the mind as in some sense its inferior; and in so far, the definition involves an essential element of the ludicrous. The person laughing is always, for the time being, superior, in his own estimation at least, to the person or thing laughed at. It is some awkwardness, some blunder, some defect of body, mind, or manner, some lack of sharpness and sense, or of courage, or of dignity, some perceived incongruity between the true character or position of the individual and his present circumstances, that excites our laughter and constitutes the ludicrous.
Objections to this Theory.—It is not true, however, that the laughter, or the disposition to laugh, arises from the simple conception of our own superiority, or the inferiority of the object contemplated, even in the cases supposed; for if that were so, then wherever and whenever we discover such superiority, the feeling of the ludicrous ought to be awakened, and the greater the superiority, the stronger the tendency to mirth; which is far from being the case. We are not disposed to laugh at the misfortunes of others, however superior our own condition may be to theirs in that very respect. My estate may be better than my neighbor's, or my health superior to his, but I am not disposed to laugh at him on that account. On the theory of Hobbes, no persons ought to be so full of merriment, even to overflowing, as the proud, self-conceited, and supercilious, who are most deeply impressed with the idea of their own vast superiority to people and things in general. The fact is precisely the reverse. Such persons seldom laugh, and when they do, the smile that plays for a moment on the face is of that cold and disdainful nature which is far removed from genuine and hearty merriment. It has little in it, as it has been well said, "of the full glorying and eminency of laughter," but is rather like the smile of Cassius.
"He loves no plays,
As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music;
Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort,
As if he mocked himself, and scorned his spirit,
That could be moved to smile at any thing."
We cannot then resolve the ludicrous into the simple perception of some inferiority of the object or person thus regarded, to ourselves, since there are many kinds of inferiority which do not, in the least, awaken the sense of the ludicrous, while, at the same time, those who are most impressed by the consciousness of their superiority are not usually most disposed to mirth.
Incongruity the essential Element.—If we are required now to specify in what consists the essential character of the ludicrous, and of wit which may be regarded as the exciting or producing cause of the same, we should detect it in the grouping, or bringing together in a sudden and unexpected manner, ideas or things that are in their nature incongruous. The incongruity of the objects thus brought into juxtaposition, and the surprise felt at the novel and unexpected relation thus discovered, are, it seems to me, the true essential elements in the idea of the ludicrous. If we examine closely the different objects that give rise to this emotion, we shall find, I think, always something incongruous, and consequently unusual and unexpected, in the relations presented, whether of ideas or of things. It may be the result of accident, or of awkwardness, or of mental obtuseness, or of design; it matters not in what mode or from what source the thing proceeds; whenever these conditions are answered, the sense of the ludicrous is awakened.
Relation of Surprise to the ludicrous.—Surprise is an essential concomitant of the ludicrous. This is the state of mind into which we are thrown by the occurrence of any thing new, strange, out of the usual course, and, therefore, unexpected. Whatever is incongruous, is likely to be unusual, and of course unexpected, and hence strikes the mind with more or less surprise. Not every thing that surprises us, however, is witty. The sudden fall of a window near which we are sitting, or the unexpected discharge of a musket within a few paces of us, may cause us to start with surprise, but would not strike us probably as particularly facetious. We are surprised to hear of the death of a friend, or of some fearful accident, attended with loss of life to many, but there is no mirthfulness in such surprise. It is only that form of surprise which is awakened by the perception of the incongruous, and not the surprise we feel in general at any thing new and strange, that is related to the ludicrous. It is rather a concomitant, therefore, than strictly an element of the emotion we are now considering.
Novelty as related to Wit.—How much novelty and suddenness add to the effect of wit, every one knows. A story however witty, once heard, loses its freshness and zest, and, often repeated, becomes not merely uninteresting, but irksome, and at length intolerable. In the same manner, and for the same reason, a witticism which we know to have been premeditated produces little effect, as compared with the same thing said in sudden repartee, and on the spur of the moment. That a man should have studied out some curious relations and combinations of things in his closet, does not surprise us so much, as that he should happen to conceive of these relations at the very moment when they would meet the exigency of the occasion. The epithets which we most commonly apply to any witty production or facetious remark, indicate the same thing; we call it lively, fresh, sparkling, full of vivacity and zest—terms borrowed, perhaps, from the choicer wines, which will not bear exposure but lose their flavor and life when once brought to the air.
Even the Incongruous not always ludicrous.—We come to this result, then, in our own attempted analysis, that the incongruity of the ideas or objects brought into relation with each other constitutes the essential characteristic, the invariable element of the ludicrous, the effect being always greatly heightened by the surprise we feel at the novel and unexpected combinations thus presented. It must be remarked, however, that even the incongruous and unexpected fail to awaken the sense of the ludicrous, when the object or event contemplated is of such a nature as to give rise to other and more serious emotions. When the occurrence, however novel and surprising in itself, or even ludicrous, is of such a nature as to endanger the life, or seriously injure the well-being of ourselves or of others, in the one case fear, in the other compassion, are at once awakened, and all sense of the ludicrous is completely at an end. The graver passion is at variance with the lighter, and banishes it from the mind. Should we see a well dressed and portly man, of some pretension and bearing, accidentally lose his footing and sprawl ingloriously in the gutter, our first impulse undoubtedly would be to laugh. The incongruity of his present position and appearance with his general neatness of person and dignity of manner would appeal strongly to the sense of the ridiculous. Should we learn, however, that in the fall he had broken his leg, or otherwise seriously injured himself, our mirthfulness at once gives place to pity.