ause of our laughter--be it mind, matter, or imaginary
circumstance--is merely regarded as something incongruous and amusing,
we name it the ludicrous, and a man is called ludicrous as faulty or
contemptible. But when the cause of it is viewed as something more than
this, as coming from some conscious power or tendency within us--a
valuable gift and an element in our mental constitution--we call it
humour, a term applied only to human beings and their productions; and a
man is called humorous as worthy of commendation. Both are in truth
feelings--we might say one feeling--and although we can conceive humour
to exist apart from the ludicrous, and to be a power within us creating
it, there is a difficulty in following out the distinction. The
difference between them is in our regard.

As soon as in course of time it became plainly evident that gay
creations might emanate from man, and not only from the outer world, the
fact was marked by the formation of a distinctive name, and by degrees
several names--among which the most comprehensive in English is Humour.
This kind of gift became gradually known as more or less possessed by
all, and when the operations of the mind came to be recognised, we were
more enlightened on the subject, and acknowledged it to be a mental and
creative power. Such admissions would not be made by men in general
without some very strong evidence, and therefore a humorous man was not
merely one who had an internal sense of the ludicrous, but one who
employed it for the delectation of others. Hence, also, though there is
no consciousness of being amusing in the man who is ludicrous, there is
in one that is humorous. A wit must always be pleasant intentionally. A
man who in sober seriousness recounts something which makes us laugh is
not humorous, although his want of discrimination may not be sufficient
to make him ludicrous. Children are not regarded as humorous, for,
although they enjoy such simple humour as toys afford, they very seldom
notice what is merely ludicrous, and do not reproduce it in any way; and
the same may be said of many grown persons, who require to be fed as it
were, and although they can enjoy what is embellished by others, have no
original observation. Thus, although Herbert Mayo is substantially
correct in saying that "humour is the sentiment of the ludicrous," he
might have added that there is a difference between the two in our
knowledge of them. In the former, the creative m