far easier to make what is beautiful appear ludicrous than
what is ludicrous appear beautiful.

There is something unique in the perception of the ludicrous. It seems
to strike and pass away too quickly for an emotion. The lightness of the
impression produced by laughter is the reason why, although we often
remember to have felt alarmed or pleased in dreams, we never remember to
have been amused. The imperfect circulation of the blood in the head
during sleep causes the reason to be partially dormant, and leads to
strange fantasies being brought before us. But that our judgment is not
entirely inactive is evident from the emotions we feel, and among them
is the ludicrous, for many people laugh in their sleep, and when they
are awakened think over the strange visions. They then laugh, but never
remember having done so before. Memory is much affected by sleep, the
greater number of our dreams are entirely forgotten, and the emotions
and circumstances of the ludicrous easily pass from our remembrance.

Bacon considered the ludicrous too intellectual to be called a "passio"
or emotion. It has commonly been regarded as almost an intuitive
faculty. We speak of "seeing" humour, and of having a "sense" of the
ludicrous. We think that we have a sense in other matters, where
reflection is not immediately perceptible, as when in music or painting
we at once observe that a certain style produces a certain effect, and
that a certain means conduces to a certain end. This recognition seems
to be made intuitively, and from long habit and constant observation we
come to acquire what appears like a sense, by which without going
through any reasoning process we give opinions upon works of Art. The
judgment acts from habit so imperceptibly that it is altogether
overlooked, and we seem almost to have a natural instinct. We are often
as unconscious of its exercise as of the changes going on in our bodily
constitution. The compositor sets his types without looking at them; the
mathematician solves problems "by inspection," and a well-known
physiologist told me he had seen a man read a book while he kept three
balls in the air. At times we seem to be more correct when acting
involuntarily than when from design. We have heard it said that, if you
think of the spelling of a word, you will make a mistake in it, and many
can form a good judgment on a subject who utterly fail when they begin
to specify the grounds on which it is founded. In many su