with a "grain of salt."

It is so very common for men to flinch under ridicule, that it is said
to be a good test of courage. An old English poet says,

"For he who does not tremble at the sword,
Who quails not with his head upon the block,
Turn but a jest against him, loses heart.
The shafts of wit slip through the stoutest mail;
There is no man alive that can live down
The unextinguishable laughter of mankind."

Aristotle defines the ludicrous to be "a certain error and turpitude
unattended with pain, and not destructive," a statement which may refer
to moral or physical defects. Cicero and Quintilian, looking probably at
satire, consider it to be mostly directed against the shortcomings and
offences of men. Bacon in his "Silva Silvarum" says the objects of
laughter are deformity, absurdity, and misfortune, in which we trace a
certain severity, although he speaks of "jocular arts" as "deceptions of
the senses," such as in masks, and other exhibitions, were much in
fashion in his day. Descartes says that we only laugh at those whom we
deem worthy of reproach; but Marmontel, the celebrated pupil of
Voltaire, takes a view which bespeaks greater cultivation and a progress
in society. "A fault in manner," he says, "is laughable; a false
pretension is ridiculous, a situation which exposes vice to detestation
is comic, a _bon mot_ is pleasant."

Dugald Stewart proceeds so far as almost to exclude vice, for he only
specifies "slight imperfections in the character and manners, such as do
not excite any moral indignation." He says that it is especially excited
by affectation, hypocrisy, and vanity.

We trace in these successive opinions of philosophers an improvement in
humour, proportionate to the progress of mankind. As men of literature,
they drew general conclusions, and from the higher and more cultivated
classes, probably much from books. Had they taken a wider range, their
catalogues would have been more comprehensive.

But the amelioration we have traced is as much in the general tone of
feeling as in humour itself, if not more. Bitter reflections upon the
personal or moral defects of others are not so acceptable now as
formerly; the "glorying" over the downfall of our neighbours is less
common.

Thus we mark an improvement in the sentiments which accompany the
ludicrous, and which many philosophers seem to have mistaken for the
ludicrous itself. Neither hostility, indelicacy, nor profanity can
cr