G HIMSELF,--as though every article of
clothing were not a disguise!--and the laughable aspect of fashion
comes out of the shadow into the light.

Here we are beginning to catch a faint glimpse of the highly intricate
difficulties raised by this problem of the comic. One of the reasons
that must have given rise to many erroneous or unsatisfactory theories
of laughter is that many things are comic de jure without being comic
de facto, the continuity of custom having deadened within them the
comic quality. A sudden dissolution of continuity is needed, a break
with fashion, for this quality to revive. Hence the impression that
this dissolution of continuity is the parent of the comic, whereas all
it does is to bring it to our notice. Hence, again, the explanation of
laughter by surprise, contrast, etc., definitions which would equally
apply to a host of cases in which we have no inclination whatever to
laugh. The truth of the matter is far from being so simple. But to
return to our idea of disguise, which, as we have just shown, has been
entrusted with the special mandate of arousing laughter. It will not be
out of place to investigate the uses it makes of this power.

Why do we laugh at a head of hair which has changed from dark to blond?
What is there comic about a rubicund nose? And why does one laugh at a
negro? The question would appear to be an embarrassing one, for it has
been asked by successive psychologists such as Hecker, Kraepelin and
Lipps, and all have given different replies. And yet I rather fancy the
correct answer was suggested to me one day in the street by an ordinary
cabby, who applied the expression "unwashed" to the negro fare he was
driving. Unwashed! Does not this mean that a black face, in our
imagination, is one daubed over with ink or soot? If so, then a red
nose can only be one which has received a coating of vermilion. And so
we see that the notion of disguise has passed on something of its comic
quality to instances in which there is actually no disguise, though
there might be.

In the former set of examples, although his usual dress was distinct
from the individual, it appeared in our mind to form one with him,
because we had become accustomed to the sight. In the latter, although
the black or red colour is indeed inherent in the skin, we look upon it
as artificially laid on, because it surprises us.

But here we meet with a fresh crop of difficulties in the theory of the
comic. Such a p