but it is
of the nature of smartness rather than of true humour--the wit of the
satirist rather; and then the curtain falls on the older world. When
humour next makes its appearance, in France and England pre-eminently,
we realise that we are in the presence of a far larger and finer
quality; and now we have, so to speak, whole bins full of liquors,
of various brands and qualities, from the mirthful absurdities of the
English, the pawky gravity of the Scotch, to the dry and sparkling
beverage of the American. To give an historical sketch of the growth and
development of modern Humour would be a task that might well claim
the energies of some literary man; it seems to me surprising that some
German philosopher has not attempted a scientific classification of the
subject. It would perhaps be best done by a man without appreciation of
humour, because only then could one hope to escape being at the mercy
of preferences; it would have to be studied purely as a phenomenon,
a symptom of the mind; and nothing but an overwhelming love of
classification would carry a student past the sense of its unimportance.
But here I would rather attempt not to find a formula or a definition
for humour, but to discover what it is, like argon, by eliminating other
characteristics, until the evasive quality alone remains.

It lies deep in nature. The peevish mouth and the fallen eye of the
plaice, the helpless rotundity of the sunfish, the mournful gape and
rolling glance of the goldfish, the furious and ineffective mien of
the barndoor fowl, the wild grotesqueness of the babyroussa and the
wart-hog, the crafty solemn eye of the parrot,--if such things as these
do not testify to a sense of humour in the Creative Spirit, it is hard
to account for the fact that in man a perception is implanted which
should find such sights pleasurably entertaining from infancy upwards.
I suppose the root of the matter is that, insensibly comparing these
facial attributes with the expression of humanity, one credits the
animals above described with the emotions which they do not necessarily
feel; yet even so it is hard to analyse, because grotesque exaggerations
of human features, which are perfectly normal and natural, seem
calculated to move the amusement of humanity quite instinctively. A
child is apt to be alarmed at first by what is grotesque, and, when once
reassured, to find in it a matter of delight. Perhaps the mistake we
make is to credit the Creative Sp