ph of the Understanding, under the Disguise of
Laughter, is no where more visible than in that Custom which prevails
every where among us on the first Day of the present Month, when every
Body takes it in his Head to make as many Fools as he can. In proportion
as there are more Follies discovered, so there is more Laughter raised
on this Day than on any other in the whole Year. A Neighbour of mine,
who is a Haberdasher by Trade, and a very shallow conceited Fellow,
makes his Boasts that for these ten Years successively he has not made
less than an hundred _April_ Fools. My Landlady had a falling out with
him about a Fortnight ago, for sending every one of her Children upon
some _Sleeveless Errand_, as she terms it. Her eldest Son went to buy an
Halfpenny worth of Inkle at a Shoe-maker's; the eldest Daughter was
dispatch'd half a Mile to see a Monster; and, in short, the whole Family
of innocent Children made _April_ Fools. Nay, my Landlady herself did
not escape him. This empty Fellow has laughed upon these Conceits ever
since.

This Art of Wit is well enough, when confined to one Day in a
Twelvemonth; but there is an ingenious Tribe of Men sprung up of late
Years, who are for making _April_ Fools every Day in the Year. These
Gentlemen are commonly distinguished by the Name of _Biters_; a Race of
Men that are perpetually employed in laughing at those Mistakes which
are of their own Production.

Thus we see, in proportion as one Man is more refined than another, he
chooses his Fool out of a lower or higher Class of Mankind: or, to speak
in a more Philosophical Language, That secret Elation and Pride of
Heart, which is generally called Laughter, arises in him from his
comparing himself with an Object below him, whether it so happens that
it be a Natural or an Artificial Fool. It is indeed very possible, that
the Persons we laugh at may in the main of their Characters be much
wiser Men than ourselves; but if they would have us laugh at them, they
must fall short of us in those Respects which stir up this Passion.

I am afraid I shall appear too Abstracted in my Speculations, if I shew
that when a Man of Wit makes us laugh, it is by betraying some Oddness
or Infirmity in his own Character, or in the Representation which he
makes of others; and that when we laugh at a Brute or even [at] an
inanimate thing, it is at some Action or Incident that bears a remote
Analogy to any Blunder or Absurdity in reasonable Creatures.

B