nion which reminds us of
Hobbes' old theory of "glorying over others." The difference between
their views and that of most authorities is not so great as it at first
appears; they admit a "negation" of truth and beauty, but found the
ludicrous, not upon this, but upon the rebirth which follows. This step
in advance, taken in accordance with their general philosophy, may be
correct, but it does not seem warranted by the mere examination of the
subject itself. Can we say that at the instant of laughter we regard not
that something is wrong, but that the reverse of it is right? When
humour is brought before us, do we feel in any way instructed? This
rebirth from a negation must seem somewhat visionary. What, for
instance, is the truth to be gathered from the following. "I wish," said
a philanthropic orator, "to be a friend to the friendless, a father to
the fatherless, and a widow to the widowless."

Probably, the philosopher who formed the rebirth theory had looked at
ludicrous events rather than humorous stories--and it may be urged that
we laugh at the former when we are set right, and are convinced of
having been really mistaken. But at the moment what excites mirth is
something that seems wrong. We meet a friend, for instance, in a place
where we little expected to see him, and perhaps smile at the meeting.
Had we known all his movements we should not have been thus surprised,
but we were ignorant of them. Here we may say our views are corrected,
and our amusement comes from a resolution or rebirth. But reflection
will show that whatever our final conclusion may be, we laugh at what
seems to us, at the moment, unaccountable and wrong; and as soon as we
begin to correct ourselves, and to see how the event occurred, our
merriment disappears.

Many instances will occur to us in which what is really right may appear
wrong. Most of us have heard the proverb "If the day is fine take an
umbrella, if it rains do as you like." It may give good advice, but we
should be much inclined to laugh at anyone who adopted it.

Leon Dumont, the latest writer who has added considerably to our
knowledge on this subject, does not admit the existence of imperfection
in the ludicrous. But the arguments which he adduces do not seem to be
conclusive. He says, for instance, that we laugh at love and amatory
adventures because they abound in deceptions! But deception always
implies ignorance or falsity, and the extravagant phraseology of love,