did we laugh at the adventures of Mr.
Penley in "Charley's Aunt"? In all of these "ludicrous" affairs there
is an element of surprise, a slight shock which puts us off our mental
balance, and the subsequent laughter, when we realise either that no
serious harm has been done or that the whole thing is make-believe,
seems to partake of the character of the "laugh of escape." It is
caused by a sense of relief when we recognise that the disaster is not
real. We laugh at the "unreal" when we should be filled with horror
and grief were we assured that there was real pain and cruelty going
on in front of us. The laughter caused by grotesque mimicry or
caricature of pompous or solemn individuals seems to arise from the
same (more or less unconscious) working of the mind as that caused by
some unexpected neglect of those social "taboos" or laws of behaviour
which we call modesty, decency, and propriety. They either cause
indignation and resentment in the onlooker at the neglect of respect
for the taboo, or, on the contrary, the natural man, long oppressed by
pomposity or by the fetters of propriety imposed by society, suddenly
feels a joyous sense of escape from his bonds, and bursts into
laughter--the laughter of a return to vitality and nature--which is
enormously encouraged and developed into "roars of merriment" by the
sympathy of others around him who are experiencing the same emotion
and expressing it in the same way.

The laugh of derision and contempt and the laugh of exultation and
triumph are of a different character. I cannot now discuss them
further than to say that they are either genuine or pretended
assertions of joy in one's own superior vitality or other superiority.
The "sardonic smile" and "sardonic laughter" have been supposed by
some learned men to refer to the smiles of the ancient Sardinians when
stoning their aged parents. But they have no more to do with
Sardinians than they have with sardines or sardonyx. The word
"sardonic" is related to a Greek word which means "to snarl," and a
sardonic grin is merely a snarl. In it the teeth are shown with
malicious intent, and not as they are in the benevolent appeal of true
laughter. Mrs. Grote, the wife of the great historian (who was
herself declared by a French wit to furnish the explanation of the
word "grotesque"), wrote of "Owen's sugar-of-lead smile"--referring to
the great naturalist, Richard Owen. There was no malice in the
description, for he had, as so