hich earnestness assumes
in his case, and, in short, a certain eccentricity that mars it in our
eyes. Agreed; but it is none the less true that this eccentricity in
Alceste, at which we laugh, MAKES HIS EARNESTNESS LAUGHABLE, and that
is the main point. So we may conclude that the ludicrous is not always
an indication of a fault, in the moral meaning of the word, and if
critics insist on seeing a fault, even though a trifling one, in the
ludicrous, they must point out what it is here that exactly
distinguishes the trifling from the serious.

The truth is, the comic character may, strictly speaking, be quite in
accord with stern morality. All it has to do is to bring itself into
accord with society. The character of Alceste is that of a thoroughly
honest man. But then he is unsociable, and, on that very account,
ludicrous. A flexible vice may not be so easy to ridicule as a rigid
virtue. It is rigidity that society eyes with suspicion. Consequently,
it is the rigidity of Alceste that makes us laugh, though here rigidity
stands for honesty. The man who withdraws into himself is liable to
ridicule, because the comic is largely made up of this very withdrawal.
This accounts for the comic being so frequently dependent on the
manners or ideas, or, to put it bluntly, on the prejudices, of a
society.

It must be acknowledged, however, to the credit of mankind, that there
is no essential difference between the social ideal and the rule, that
it is the faults of others that make us laugh, provided we add that
they make us laugh by reason of their UNSOCIABILITY rather than of
their IMMORALITY. What, then, are the faults capable of becoming
ludicrous, and in what circumstances do we regard them as being too
serious to be laughed at?

We have already given an implicit answer to this question. The comic,
we said, appeals to the intelligence, pure and simple; laughter is
incompatible with emotion. Depict some fault, however trifling, in such
a way as to arouse sympathy, fear, or pity; the mischief is done, it is
impossible for us to laugh. On the other hand, take a downright
vice,--even one that is, generally speaking, of an odious nature,--you
may make it ludicrous if, by some suitable contrivance, you arrange so
that it leaves our emotions unaffected. Not that the vice must then be
ludicrous, but it MAY, from that time forth, become so. IT MUST NOT
AROUSE OUR FEELINGS; that is the sole condition really necessary,
though assuredl