laughter is nothing else but sudden glory arising from the
sudden conception of eminency in ourselves by comparison with the
inferiority of others, or with our own formerly." According to Professor
Bain, "Laughter results from the degradation of some person or interest
possessing dignity in circumstances that excite no other strong
emotion." Even Kant, desisting for a time from his contemplation of Pure
Reason, gave his attention to the human phenomenon of laughter and
explained it away as "the result of an expectation which of a sudden
ends in nothing." Some modern cynic has compiled a list of the
situations on the stage which are always "humorous." One of them, I
recall, is the situation in which the clown-acrobat, having made mighty
preparations for jumping over a pile of chairs, suddenly changes his
mind and walks off without attempting it. The laughter that invariably
greets this "funny" maneuver would seem to have philosophical sanction.
Bergson, too, the philosopher of creative evolution, has considered
laughter to the extent of an entire volume. A reading of it leaves one a
little disturbed. Laughter, so we learn, is not the merry-hearted,
jovial companion we had thought him. Laughter is a stern mentor,
characterized by "an absence of feeling." "Laughter," says M. Bergson,
"is above all a corrective, it must make a painful impression on the
person against whom it is directed. By laughter society avenges itself
for the liberties taken with it. It would fail in its object if it bore
the stamp of sympathy or kindness." If this be laughter, grant us
occasionally the saving grace of tears, which may be tears of sympathy,
and, therefore, kind!

But, after all, since it is true that "one touch of humor makes the
whole world grin," what difference does it make what that humor is; what
difference why or wherefore we laugh, since somehow or other, in a sorry
world, we do laugh?

Of the test for a sense of humor, it has already been said that it is
the ability to see a joke. And, as for a joke, the dictionary, again a
present help in time of trouble, tells us at once that it is, "something
said or done for the purpose of exciting a laugh." But stay! Suppose it
does not excite the laugh expected? What of the joke that misses fire?
Shall a joke be judged by its intent or by its consequences? Is a joke
that does not produce a laugh a joke at all? Pragmatically considered it
is not. Agnes Repplier, writing on Humor, speaks of