beyond the letter being understood, and very much depends
upon variety of delicate significations. Words are as variable and
relative as thought, differing with time and place--a few constantly
dropping out of use, some understood in one age, but conveying no
distinct idea in another, and not calling up exactly the same
associations in different individuals. We cannot, therefore, agree with
Addison that translation may be considered a sure test for
distinguishing between genuine and spurious humour--although it would
detect mere puns. Voltaire says of Hudibras, "I have never met with so
much wit in one book as in this--who would believe that a work which
paints in such lively and natural colours the several foibles and
frolics of mankind, and where we meet with more sentiment than words,
should baffle the endeavours of the ablest translator?" But any
alteration of words would generally destroy humour. "To go to the
crows," was a good and witty expression in ancient Greece, but it does
not signify anything to us, except, perhaps, climbing trees. When we
wish a man to be devoured, we tell him to "go to the dogs." Even the
flow and sound of words sometimes has great influence in humour.

Association has also considerable effect. Owing to this little boys at
school are rarely able to laugh at a Greek joke. We consider that to
call a man an ass is a reproach, but in the East in bewailing a lost
friend they frequently exclaim, "Alas, my jackass!" for they do not
associate the animal with stupidity, but with patience and usefulness.
These differences show that the essence of some humour is so fugitive
that the smallest change will destroy it. We may well suppose,
therefore, that it escapes many who have not quick perceptions, while
we find that everyone more keenly appreciates that which relates to some
subject with which he is specially conversant--a lawyer enjoys a legal,
a broker a commercial joke. Hence women, taking more interest than men
in the general concerns of life and in a great variety of things, are
more given to mirth--their mind reflects the world, that of men only one
line in it. We see in society how much more quickly some persons
understand an obscure allusion than others--some from natural
penetration, some from familiarity with the subject. There are those who
cannot enjoy any joke which they do not make themselves. Some cannot
guess the simplest riddle, while others could soon detect the real
nature of a