CHAPTER II.

THE SMILE AND THE LAUGH.

To treat the facts with proper respect seems to be more than ordinarily

incumbent on us in dealing with the nature and the significance of our

laughter. This means, as already hinted, that some inquiry be made into

the act of laughing itself, the manner of it, and the circumstances

which accompany it, and that this inquiry be carried out in the most

comprehensive way possible.

We grave elders are wont to think of laughing and smiling as something

quite occasional, a momentary lapse once in a while from the persistent

attitude of seriousness. This view is apt to be expressed in too

unqualified a form. Simple types of humanity, the child and the savage,

frequently show us mirthful laughter filling a much larger space in

the day’s hours than our view would suggest. A jolly boy, the subject

of chronic high spirits, which are apt to try the patience of sedate

seniors, might perhaps say—if indeed he could be brought to frame a

theory of life—that laughing is the proper way to pass the time, and

that seriousness is a tiresome necessity which can be tolerated only

now and again. And in any case such a view might be said to represent

the mental attitude of those happy idiots and imbeciles of whom we read

that they “are persistently joyous and {26} benign,” and constantly

laughing or smiling, and that “their countenances often exhibit a

stereotyped smile”.[12]

Yet, attractive as this theory may be for a lover of laughter, it

cannot well adjust itself to stern physiological facts. The full

process of laughter is, like coughing, sobbing and other actions, a

violent interruption of the rhythmic flow of the respiratory movements.

As such, its function in the human organism seems to be limited to that

of an occasional spurt. Even a perpetual smile, quite apart from its

insipidity for others than the smiler, would, strictly speaking, hardly

be compatible with the smooth on-flow of the vital processes. What has

been named the “everlasting barren simper” does not really amount to

this.

The Smile and the Laugh, viewed as physiological events, stand in the

closest relation one to the other. A smile is, as we shall see, rightly

regarded as an incomplete laugh. Hence we shall do well to study the

two together.

Smiling involves a complex group of facial movements. It may suffice

to remind the reader of such characteristic changes as the drawing

back and slight lifting of the comers of the mouth, the raising of

the upper lip, which partially uncovers the teeth, and the curving

of the furrows betwixt the comers of the mouth and the nostrils (the

naso-labial furrows) which these movements involve. To these must be

added the formation of wrinkles under the eyes—a most characteristic

part of the expression—which is a further result of the first

movements. The increased brightness of the eyes is probably the effect

of their tenseness, due to the contraction of the adjacent muscles and

the pressure of the raised cheek, though {27} an acceleration of the

circulation within the eyeball may have something to do with it.

These facial changes are common to the smile and to the laugh, though

in the more violent forms of laughter the eyes are apt to lose under

their lachrymal suffusion the sparkle which the smile brings.

As a characteristic group of facial movements the smile is excellently

well suited for its purpose—the primitive and most universal

expression of a pleasurable or happy state of mind. It forms, in

respect of certain of its features at least, a marked contrast to the

expression of opposite feelings. Thus it is far removed, and so easily

distinguishable, from the facial expression during weeping, _viz._, the

firmly closed eyelids and the wide opening of the mouth in the form

of a squarish cavity; as also from the face’s betrayal of low spirits

and “crossness,” in the depressed corners of the mouth, the oblique

eyebrows and the furrowed forehead.

I have spoken here of the primitive unsophisticated smile as it may

be observed in children and those adults who have not learned to

control the primitive, and instinctive movements of the face. Among

the cultivated classes of a civilised community, this primitive smile

is not only restrained and modified, but serves other uses than the

confession of the elemental experiences of pleasure and gladness. With

the contemptuous smile, the slightly ironical smile of the superior

person, the bitter, sardonic smile, we shall have happily but little

to do here. It is enough to remark that these differentiations answer

closely to those of laughter, and so further illustrate the organic

affinity of the two.

We may now pass to the larger experience of the audible laugh. That

this action is physiologically continuous with {28} the smile has

already been suggested. The facial expression is approximately the

same in the broad smile and the gentle laugh. It is only when laughter

grows immoderate that there is a marked addition of other features,

_viz._, the strong contraction of the muscles about the eyes leading to

frowning, and the shedding of tears. How closely connected are smiling

and moderate laughing may be seen by the tendency we experience when we

reach the broad smile and the fully open mouth to start the respiratory

movements of laughter. As Darwin and others have pointed out, there is

a series of gradations from the faintest and most decorous smile up to

the full explosion of the laugh.[13]

One may, perhaps, go farther and say that the series of gradations here

indicated is gone through, more or less rapidly, in an ordinary laugh.

Persons who laugh slowly, finding it difficult to “let themselves

go,” can be seen to pass through these stages. It has been said by an

ingenious American inquirer that laughter may begin either with the

eyes or with the mouth, the frequency of the former mode, as compared

with the latter, in the instances examined being as 7 to 5.[14]

It may be added that, to this continuity of form in the actions of

smiling and laughing, there answers a community of function. As will

be shown more fully by-and-by, both are in their primitive forms

manifestations of pleasure, laughter being primarily the expression

of the fuller measures of the happy or gladsome state, and varying in

energy and volume with the degree of this fulness.

The chronological relations of the reign of the smile and the laugh in

the life of the individual will occupy us {29} presently. Here it may

be enough to say that these relations allow us to think of smiling at

once as the precursor and as the successor of her kinsman. The first

smiles are a step away from the exceeding gravity of baby-hood towards

full hilarity, the last are a step back from this hilarity to the

stolid composure of senile infancy.

It would seem to follow that the sharp distinction often drawn between

smiling and laughing is artificial. Society, led by its Chesterfield,

may emphasise the difference between the incipient and the completed

process, allowing the one and forbidding the other; but the natural man

is inclined to regard them as one.

The recognition of this identity of the two actions is evidenced by

the usages of speech. We see in the classical languages a tendency

to employ the same word for the two, laughing like smiling being

regarded—primarily and mainly at least—as an object of visual

perception. This is particularly dear in the case of the Latin

“ridere,” which means to smile as well as to laugh, the form

“subridere” being rare. This tendency to assimilate the laugh and

the smile as facial expressions was naturally supplemented by the

employment, both in Greek and in Latin, of a separate word for audible

laughter (“καχάζειν”, “cachinnare”) in cases where it was needful to

emphasise the fact of sound. In some modern languages the relation of

smiling to laughing is precisely indicated as that of a less full to a

fuller action (Italian, “ridere” and “sorridere”; French, “rire” and

“sourire”; German, “lachen” and “lächeln”). Possibly the existence

of two unrelated words in our own and some other modern languages

points to the fact that certain races have been more impressed by the

dissimilarity between the audible and the inaudible expression than by

the similarity of the visible manifestations. {30}

It is worth noting that even after the two expressions have been

distinguished by separate names there is a tendency to use the

stronger metaphor “to laugh,” rather than the weaker one “to smile,”

in describing the brighter aspects of nature’s beauty, such as

meadows when in flower. A painter, whom Dante meets in Purgatory,

and recognises as the first in the art of illumination, gracefully

transfers this distinction to a brother painter by saying that the

leaves which the latter painted “laugh more” (piu ridon) than his

own.[15]

We may now turn to the distinguishing characteristics of laughing, that

is, the production of the familiar series of sounds. Like sighing,

sobbing and some other actions, it is an interruption of the natural

rhythm of the respiratory process, in which inspiration and expiration

follow one another at regular intervals. The obvious feature of this

interruption in the case of laughter is the series of short, spasmodic,

expiratory movements by which the sounds are produced. These are,

however, preceded by a less noticed inspiration of exceptional energy

and depth. These interruptions of the ordinary respiratory movements

involve an unusually energetic action of the large muscles by which the

chest is expanded, _viz._, those which secure the contraction and so

the descent of the dome-shaped diaphragm, and those by the action of

which the ribs are elevated.

The production of the sounds by the spasmodic expiratory movements

shows that the passage from the trachea into the pharynx, _viz._, the

glottis or chink between the vocal cords, is partially closed. The

quality of the sounds is {31} explained by the particular arrangements,

at the moment of the cachinnation, of the vocal apparatus, and more

particularly the shape of the resonance chamber of the mouth.

Familiar though we are with them, we should find it hard to give an

accurate description of the sounds of laughter. To begin with, they

seem to vary considerably in the case of the same person and still more

in that of different persons. Laughter has not yet lent itself to the

methods of the experimental psychologist, and so has not been studied

with scientific precision. By-and-by, we may hope, the phonograph will

capture its sounds, and enable us to observe them at our leisure.

Meanwhile, only a very rough account of them is possible.

Taking the laughter of the adult male, which is perhaps more frank and

better pronounced, we find the more common forms of iterated sounds to

range from the broad vowel sound _aw_ (in “law”) to the sharp _a_ (in

“bat”). The long _o_ sound (as in “go”), involving the rounded mouth

aperture, seems to me to be far less common. The same applies to the

long _ee_ and _ai_ sounds, and those which seem to be most closely

allied to them.

These variations appear, so far as I can judge, to go with alterations

of pitch. The broader sounds, _e.g._, _aw_, seem naturally to ally

themselves to the hardier deep-pitched explosion, the others to the

more cackle-like utterances in the higher parts of the register. This

connection shows itself, too, in the change in the vowel-quality when,

as frequently happens, the laugh runs through a cadence of pitch from a

higher to a lower note.

These considerations will prepare us to find that the vowel-quality

of the sound varies in general with sex and with age. According to

Haller and Gratiolet the sounds of {32} the laughter of women and

children, which correspond with their higher vocal pitch, approach in

vowel-quality to the French _i_ and _e_.[16]

Considerable variations from these typical forms would seem to occur

now and again. In the American returns already referred to, the mode of

laughing described is represented by such odd symbols as “gah! gah!”

“iff! iff!” “tse! tse!” etc. These singularities, if, as it seems, they

are intended to represent habitual modes of voicing mirth, are, one

suspects, hardly referrible to natural differences of vocalisation, but

are probably the result of the interfering agencies of nervousness and

affectation which, as we know, have much to do with fixing the form of

mirthful expression.

The description of laughter here offered applies only to the typical

form. It would have to be modified considerably to suit the attenuated

forms to which the expression is reduced in “polite society”. Of

these, more presently. Even where the vocal outburst retains its

primitive spontaneity and fulness considerable variations are

observable, connected with differences in the whole respiratory and

vocal apparatus. The intensity and volume of the sound, the pitch and

vowel-quality, the rapidity of the successive expirations, the length

of the series, the mode of commencing and of ending, may all exhibit

variations which help to make the laughter of one person or of one race

different from that of another.

We may now pass to some other accompaniments of the muscular movements

of laughter. It is of importance to study these with care if we wish to

estimate the precise value of the hilarious explosion in the economy of

human life. {33}

Since the movements of laughter are sudden and violent interruptions

of the smooth rhythmic flow of the respiratory process, we may expect

to find that they have important organic effects, involving not merely

the mechanism of respiration, but also that of the circulation of the

blood. Here, it seems, we have to do with a double effect First of all

(we are told), this series of spasmodic expirations—during which, as

we have seen, the glottis is partially closed—increases the pressure

within the thorax or chest, and so impedes the entry of blood from

the veins into the heart. This effect is seen in the turgidity of the

head and neck which appears after prolonged and violent laughing.

In the second place, the exceptionally deep inspirations tend to

expand the lungs with air, and to drain off the blood from the veins

into the heart. The manner in which these two actions, the deepened

inspiration and the prolonged expiration, alternate during a fit of

laughter, appears to secure a considerable advantage in respect both of

accelerated circulation and more complete oxygenation of the blood. The

brisker movement of the blood after laughter has recently been observed

in some experimental inquiries into the effects of emotional excitement

of various kinds on the pulse.[17]

It is not improbable that this expedited circulation produces more

remote effects on the organism. It has been suggested that one of

the advantages of a “good laugh” is that it relieves the brain, and

this would seem to imply that it quickens the movement of the blood

through the fine and readily clogged vessels which permeate the

brain-structures. {34}

And here we find ourselves face to face with the question: What truth

is there in the saying that laughter has beneficial physiological

effects? A curious chapter might be written on the views propounded,

both by the light-hearted reveller and the grave and philosophic

onlooker, on the wholesomeness of this form of “bodily exercise”. Only

a bare reference to this aspect of the subject can, however, be given

here.

To begin with, the unlearned, who know nothing of diaphragms or of

congested veins needing to be relieved, have had a shrewd conviction

that laughter sets the current of life moving briskly. Proverbs, such

as “laugh and grow fat,” attest this common conviction. Those who

have catered to the laughter-lovers have not unnaturally made much of

this salutary influence. The mediæval writers of the laughable story

in verse (the “fabliau” or “Conte à rire en vers”) held firmly to the

belief in the “sanitary virtue” (“vertu saine”) of a burst of laughter.

This popular view has been supported by the weight of learned

authority. Vocal exercises, of which laughing is clearly one, have

been recommended by experts from the time of Aristotle as a means of

strengthening the lungs and of furthering the health of the organism as

a whole. By many, moreover, laughter has been specifically inculcated

as a hygienic measure. The learned Burton (_b._ 1577) quotes a number

of physicians in favour of the ancient custom of enlivening the feast

with mirth and jokes.[18] The reader may find references to the

salutary effects of laughter in the latest text-books of physiology.

Both by a vigorous reinforcement of the actions of the large muscles

which do the work of respiration, and, still more, by the beneficial

effects of these reinforced actions on the functions of the {35} lungs

and the circulatory apparatus, laughter properly finds a place among

“bodily exercises”.[19]

The beneficial effects of laughter have not been overlooked by the

pedagogue. Mulcaster, for example (born about 1530), gives a high

place to laughing among his “physical” or health-giving exercises.

The physiological reasons adduced are sometimes funny enough: for

the author relies on Galen and the doctrine of “spirits”. He thinks

that laughter will help those who have cold hands and cold chests

and are troubled with melancholia, since it “moveth much aire in the

breast, and sendeth the warmer spirites outward”. Tickling under the

armpits may well be added, seeing that these parts have a great store

of small veins and little arteries “which being tickled so become

warme themselves, and from thence disperse heat throughout the whole

bodie”.[20]

How far these benign effects on health, which are recognised by the

modern physician as well as by his predecessor, are due to the vigorous

reinforcement brought by laughter to the work of respiration and of the

circulation of the blood, it is not easy to say. The latter process

reminds one of the circulation of pedestrians and vehicles in our

London streets. In a general way it manages itself fairly well. Yet now

and again a lusty “Move on!” from a policeman seems to be distinctly

beneficial. Similar benefits may be extended to the organs of digestion

and the rest.

At the same time we must not lose sight of the possibility that

laughter may act beneficially on our hard-pressed {36} frames in

another way. As has been suggested above, the lusty cachinnation is

nature’s way of voicing gladness, a sudden increase of pleasure. Now

it has been held by psychologists that pleasurable feelings tend

to further the whole group of organic functions, by adding to the

nervous vigour which keeps them going. Laughter may owe a part of its

benign influence on our bodily state to the fact that it produces a

considerable increase of vital activity by way of heightened nervous

stimulation.[21]

One feature of the laughing outburst may pretty safely be ascribed to

this increase of nervous action under pleasurable excitement. In all

genuinely hilarious moods, the laugh is accompanied by a good deal of

diffused activity of the voluntary muscles. This is seen most clearly

in the unsophisticated laughter of children and savages. The sudden

glee which starts the laugh starts also movements of arm, leg and

trunk, so that arms flap wing-like, or meet in the joyous clap, and the

whole body jumps. In older people matters may not be carried so far,

though there are examples of the large shakings of laughter, notably

that of Carlyle’s Teufelsdröckh, whose great laugh was one “not of the

face and diaphragm only, but of the whole man from head to heel”; and

it is hard perhaps for any man taken by the “stab” of a good joke to

keep his arms down and his body vertical.

It may be added that this supplementing of the energetic {37}

respiratory actions by movements of the limbs gives to laughter its

clear title to be called a muscular exercise. As such it is vigorous,

voluminous and bordering, so to speak, on the violent. Its salutary

influence, like that of the surgeon’s knife, will consequently depend

on the celerity of its operation.

Here we come to the other column in the reckoning. If laughter does

good by its occasional irruption into a domain which otherwise

would have too much of drowsy monotony, its benefit is rigorously

circumscribed. Only too easily can it overdo the “flushing” part, and

inundate and destroy when it should merely cleanse. In other words, the

mirthful cachinnation, just because it is an irruption, a disorderly

proceeding, must not be unduly prolonged.

At what moment in a prolonged fit of laughter the undesirable effects

begin to appear, it is not easy to say. It must be remembered that

a good part of what remains of modern laughter is by no means pure

hilarity. There is in it from the first ejaculation something of a

biting sensation, or something of a melancholy pain. Yet, waiving

this and looking on what begins as genuine hilarity, we shall find

that it is not so simple a matter to determine the moment when

further prolongation of the exercise will be weakening rather than

strengthening. The excitement of laughter, like that of wine, may in

its measurements have to be adjusted to individual constitution. Among

the humiliations of life may be reckoned the discovery of an inability

to go on laughing at the brilliant descriptions of a caricaturist, and

an experience of aching exhaustion, of flabby collapse, while others

continue the exhilarating chorus.

It is natural to look on the tears which often accompany boisterous

laughter as an unfavourable symptom. Things which do us good should

not, we argue, make us cry. Yet {38} we may reflect that men have

been known to cry out of sheer happiness. With some laughers, too,

the moisture may come at an earlier stage than with others. Was

Shakespeare, one wonders, thinking of a violent laughter when he

made Iachimo tell Imogen that her lord Leonatus had mocked the

French lover’s lugubrious despondencies “with his eyes in flood with

laughter”? Perhaps in Shakespeare’s age, when laughter was held in with

looser rein, the tears came more readily.

According to Darwin, who has made a careful study of laughter’s tears,

their appearance during a violent attack is common to all the races of

mankind. He connects them with the contraction of the muscles round

the eyes which has for its purpose the compressing of the gorged

blood-vessels and so the protection of the eyes. This is the meaning

of the tears alike in the case of grief and of extravagant mirth. The

paroxysm of excessive laughter thus approaches the other extreme of

violent grief; and this fact, Darwin thinks, may help us to understand

how it is that hysterical patients and children often laugh and cry

alternately.[22]

However it may be with the tears, there is no doubt that violent and

prolonged laughter works mischief in other ways. The sigh that so

frequently follows the laugh, and has been supposed to illustrate the

wider truth that “all pleasures have a sting in the tail,” need not

be taken too seriously. It is the sign of restoration of equilibrium

after the hilarious upset. The prostrating effects of violent laughter

were well known to Shakespeare. Thus he speaks of being “stabbed” {39}

with laughter, of laughing oneself “into stitches”—an experience which

Milton probably had in mind when he wrote of “laughter holding both

his sides”—of the heart being almost broken “with extreme laughing”

and of laughing oneself “to death”.[23] The American returns speak

of a whole Iliad of evil after-effects: fatigue, weakness, sadness,

giddiness, breathlessness and so forth. It may, however, be urged

that these unpleasant experiences hardly justify us in applying to

laughter the rather strong epithet of “killing”. They are, under normal

circumstances, temporary inconveniences only, and to the lover of fun

do not seriously count as against its substantial blessings. When

laughter kills, as it does sometimes, it is because it has degenerated

into something distinctly abnormal, allying itself to hysterical grief

or to the unhinging effect of a great mental shock.

As already noted, the laugh, like the smile which is its beginning,

is in general an expression of a pleasurable state of feeling. Among

unsophisticated children and savage adults it is the common mode of

expressing all considerable intensities of pleasure when they involve

a sudden brightening of the pleasure-tone of consciousness, as in the

overflow of gladness or good spirits. As such it stands in marked

dissimilarity to the expression of opposite tones of feeling. To begin

with, it presents a striking contrast to states of suffering, sorrow

and low spirits in general. It illustrates the broad generalisation

laid down by psychologists that a state of pleasure manifests itself

in vigorous and expansive movements, whereas a state of pain involves

a lowering of muscular energy and a kind of shrinking into oneself.

In a more special way it forms an antithesis, in certain of its

features at least, to the expression of violent {40} suffering. Darwin

remarks that in the production of screams or cries of distress the

expirations are prolonged and continuous and the inspirations short and

interrupted; whereas in the production of laughter we have, as we have

seen, the expirations short and broken and the inspirations prolonged.

This is merely one case of the wider generalisation that “the whole

expression of a man in good spirits is exactly the opposite of that of

one suffering from sorrow”.[24]

The value of this arrangement as helping us to understand one another’s

feelings is obvious. Among the many mistakes which we are wont to

commit in reading our children’s minds, that of confusing their joy and

grief cannot, fortunately, be a frequent one. It is only in exceptional

and abnormal cases, where the extremes of boisterous mirth and grief

seem to approach one another, that the language of the one can be

mistaken for that of the other.

A curious point, which the ingenuities of some later psychologists

compel us to consider, is whether the pleasure, of which laughter

is popularly supposed to be the outcome or effect, really stands in

this relation to it. According to the theory here referred to, of

which Prof. W. James is the best-known advocate in our language,

a blush cannot be attributed to an antecedent feeling of modesty

or shamefacedness: but for the blush there would be no feeling of

modesty: in truth, it is the blush, _i.e._, the hot sensation of it,

that constitutes the feeling. The theory has done much to popularise

psychology in these last days. It is, I have found, a plum in a pudding

where plums are rare for many who read psychology for examinations. It

seems to be {41} particularly dear to young women. It certainly has

about it the charm of a lively fancy.

But science has, alas! sometimes to do battle with liveliness of fancy;

and it has to do this here. By trying to get all your emotions out of

the organic effects, you find yourself in the awkward situation of

being unable to say how these organic effects themselves are brought

about. You must have something of the emotional thrill and of the

nervous thrill which this involves before you get that interference

with the routine action of the muscles of the facial capillaries which

brings on the blush.

Not only may the presence of an element of feeling at the very

beginning of an emotional experience be thus shown to be a necessary

assumption, it can, in certain cases at least, be clearly observed.

This applies more particularly to such feelings as the admiration of a

beautiful landscape or a fine bit of harmonised melody. In these cases

it must, one would suppose, be evident to all that the pleasurable

emotion is started and sustained by numerous currents of agreeable

sensation pouring in by way of eye or ear, and by the agreeable

perceptions which grow immediately out of these. To say that all the

joyous elevation in these experiences springs out of the secondary,

internally excited sensations, those which accompany the altered

condition of muscle and gland, the heightened pulse-rate, the bodily

thrill and the rest, is surely to inflict an undeserved indignity on

“the higher senses,” and to exhibit the full depth of ludicrous paradox

which lurks in this theory.[25]

The case of laughter is not quite so clear. It has, indeed, one

characteristic which seems to favour the {42} view that the bodily

resonance is everything, namely, that it is easily induced in a

mechanical or quasi-mechanical manner. It is of all the expressive

movements the one most subject to the force of imitation. Children’s

laughter, and that excited by the popular game, the “laughing chorus,”

clearly illustrate its contagious character.[26] Moreover, as we know,

a fit of laughter may be brought on, in part at least, by actions

which presumably reinstate some of the physiological elements in the

process. Thus my son tells me that he was overtaken by an irresistible

impulse to laugh when riding a horse without a saddle, and again when

running a race; and my daughter had the same tendency at the end of

her first mountain climb. It seems probable that the movements and the

changed condition of the breathing function are prime causes of the

irresistible tendency in such cases.

It is, however, one thing to allow the indisputable fact that laughter

can be excited in this seemingly mechanical way, another thing to claim

for the reaction in such cases the value of the full joyous outburst.

I believe that a person who watches his mental processes can observe

that a merely imitative laughter does not bring the whole delightful

psychosis which arises when some agreeable impression initiates the

movements.

To this it must be added that in the cases here touched on the

imitation is not wholly mechanical. When we laugh because others laugh,

do we not accept their laughter as a playful challenge and fall into

the gay mood? And are we not, commonly at least, affected by others’

voluminous laughter as by a droll sight and sound, which directly

stimulates the mirthful muscles? My son’s laughter, {43} in the

circumstances just referred to, seemed to be directed to the movements

of the horse’s ears, and to those of the boy running just in front of

him. The movements of laughter have, in the case of some adults, come

so completely under the initiative control of mental processes, that

even when powerful organic forces prompt the movements, it is necessary

to make a show of finding some cause of merriment.

Coming now to the ordinary case of the emotional reaction, we note

first of all the swift, explosive character of the outburst. If the

motor discharge follow the first swell of joyous feeling, which is

popularly said to excite it, it seems to do so with such electrical

rapidity as to make it impossible to detect this initial swell as

distinctly preceding it. Yet this fact need not baffle our inquiry.

When for example we laugh at some absurd incongruity in speech or

manners, can we not see that the perception which starts the laugh is

an emotional perception, one which not only directs itself to something

that has emotional interest and value, namely, the incongruous features

as such, but is flooded from the very first with the gladness of mirth.

To say that my perception of a big woman hanging upon the arm of a

small man is a purely intellectual affair, like the perception of the

inequality of two lines in a geometrical figure, is, one fears, to

confess either to a poverty of humorous experience or to a very scanty

faculty of psychological analysis.

But perhaps the clearest disproof of this quaint paradox in the realm

of laughter is supplied by the situation already referred to, that

of forced abstention from a choral laugh through fatigue. When thus

“doubled up” and impotent, we may be quite capable of seizing the funny

turns of the good “story,” and of feeling all the {44} force of the

bugle-call of the others’ laughter. In sooth it is just here that the

misery of the situation lies, that the joyous sense of fun in the air

is now robbed of its sturdy ally and so reduced to a state of limp

inefficiency. The comicality still makes full appeal: we feel it, but

the feeling is denied its full normal outflow.

This brings us face to face with the kernel, the valuable kernel, of

truth which lies in what seems at first an empty paradoxical nutshell.

Though the “bodily reverberation” that is, the swiftly returning

tidings of a raised or depressed nervous activity in outlying regions

of the organism, is not everything in an emotion, it is a part, and

an important part. The full experience of the joys of the comic, like

other full emotional experiences, implies that the vents are clear,

that the nervous swirl started at the centres at the moment when we

greet the coming of fun with gladness can find its customary outflow

along the familiar channels. Not only so, but as suggested above,

this large expansion of the area of nervous commotion throughout the

bodily system gives added life and a more distinctive character to the

enjoyment of fun.

I have here supposed a perfectly simple instance of laughter in which

a sudden increase of pleasure up to the point of gladness brings on

the reaction. Even in this case, however, there is some complication,

some reciprocal action between the out-pouring mental gladness and the

in-pouring somatic resonance. In a good, prolonged laugh the bodily

factor does undoubtedly react upon the psycho-physical process which

makes up the mental gaiety, and this means that it precedes the later

stages of this process. In all cases where this central psycho-physical

factor is complex and requires time for its {45} completion, the

interactions between it and the bodily factor become vital. As hinted

in the preceding chapter, the reflective intuitions which are said by

certain theorists to be the cause, and so to precede laughter, are

often after-thoughts. This means that when the laughing apparatus is

set and ready to discharge, the first joyous perception of something

funny, though utterly vague with respect to the particular features

and relations wherein lies the funniness, suffices to bring on the

reaction, which instantly reinforces the gladsome mood. And the jollity

may sustain itself for a while mainly as a fit of laughter; though

swift mental glances are all along being shot across the spasms at

the provoking “object,” glances which make clearer and clearer the

ludicrous features, and by so doing raise the force of the mental

stimulus.

If, as we have seen to be probable, laughter is within limits a good

exercise, bringing a considerable increase of pleasurable activity and

furthering the sense of bodily well-being, we can easily understand

how essential it is to the full realisation of good spirits and the

hilarious mood. Its explosive movements seem, indeed, to belong to the

state of exhilaration, of conscious expansion, and to give it much

of its piquant flavour: whence the hardship of losing breath through

excessive indulgence, or having to stifle the impulse to laugh at

its birth when exposed to the shocked look of the agelast. The deep,

forcible chest-movements bring a sense of heightened energy, of a

high-tide fulness of the life-current. The voluminous mass of sensation

which they supply, partly in the stirring sounds which react on the

laugher’s own ears, and partly in the large, exhilarating effects in

the viscera, is in itself a vast expansion of our consciousness. This

sudden rise of the tide in our organic life is a part at least of that

sense {46} of “sudden glory” which the sight of the ludicrous is said

to bring us.

That this organic swell is a large factor, is, I think, shown in

more ways than one. To name but one fact; we may begin a laugh with

something of bitterness, something of malignity in our hearts; but end

it having a freer, serener consciousness, as if the laughter had been

a sort of cleansing process, and, like another and widely different

κάθαρσις, substituted a happy and peaceful for a disturbed and unhappy

state of feeling. It will be seen presently that among the causes of

laughter, a moment’s relaxation of strain—muscular, intellectual or

emotional tension—is one of the most common, if it be not universal.

The delicious sense of relief which the collapse of the strained

attitude brings us may no doubt be due to a consciousness of the

transition, the escape from pressure of the moment before. At the same

time, it is not improbable that the physiological processes of laughter

themselves, by securing organic relief and refreshment, contribute a

large element to the whole mental state.

A like remark applies to the element of disagreeable feeling which

frequently, at least, makes our laughter a mixed experience:—

Our sincerest laughter

With some pain is fraught.

Shelley was hardly the person, one suspects, to judge of the quality

of men’s laughter: yet his couplet contains an element of truth.

This mixture of elements is, no doubt, largely due to the initiating

perception itself; for, as we shall see, the laughable spectacle

commonly shows us in the background something regrettable. But it seems

reasonable to say that the element of sadness in our hilarity has its

organic support in the unpleasant feeling-tones {47} which accompany

the effects of all violent and prolonged laughter.[27]

What may be the precise proportions between the initial or “cerebral”

joy and the joy reverberated by the organism we have no data for

determining. There seems something plausible in the contention that

the former, when it lacks the reinforcement of the latter, is but a

“thin” and “pale” feeling. This view may be supported by the fact

that the response of the body is never wholly silenced. Even when

a man controls his laughter, say in church, he is aware of a swift

spasm in the throat. But there are facts which tell powerfully in

the other direction. We never stifle the organic resonance without

introducing other and distinctly adverse influences. When by a forcible

effort we hold back our laughter this effort itself, as an artificial

and difficult attitude, does much to spoil the whole experience.

The conflict between the impulse to laugh and the curbing will is

distinctly disagreeable, and may readily grow into an acute suffering.

And when the corporeal reverberation fails through sheer fatigue, this

fatigue, both in itself and in its antagonism to the appeal to mirth,

becomes a large factor in the whole experience. We must consequently

wait for this knowledge of the precise shares contributed by the two

factors, until some ingenious experimenter can succeed in exciting the

mirthful mood and at the same time cutting off the bodily reverberation

without inducing a new organic consciousness; or, on the other hand,

can devise a method of securing for us in some utterly serious moment

the full bodily reverberation of laughter, say by electrically {48}

stimulating our respiratory muscles. It may be predicted with some

confidence that this waiting will be a long one.

Here again, as in the case of the smile, we have to note various

deviations from the typical form of the expression. When laughter no

longer springs from pure joy, but has in it something of a sardonic

bitterness, or something of a contemptuous defiance, the experience

will of course be complicated by a new ingredient of consciousness.

Whether this change of experience is due merely to the difference in

the initial mental attitude may be doubted. It is not improbable that

the physiological processes, that is to say, the respiratory movements,

the vocalisation, and the more diffused organic effects, will be

altered in such cases. A bitter laugh seems both to taste differently

and to sound differently from a perfectly joyous one.

In these deviations from the typical laugh of the joyous mood we see

the beginning of the intrusion of a new factor, the will. There is more

of intention to be heard in, say, the ironical laughter of one side of

the House of Commons than in the laughter of an unsophisticated child.

This intrusion of will serves both to restrain the natural process,

reducing it to a degraded and rudimentary form, and to originate

various affected counterfeits of the spontaneous outburst. This double

action supports the idea that the conventions of polite society aim not

merely at suppressing the “vulgar” kind of explosion, but at evoking

the signs of amusement when an effort is being made to amuse. Hence

the multiplicity of weird utterances which cultivated humanity has

adopted. The giggle, the titter, the snicker and the rest appear to be

not merely reduced or half-suppressed laughter, but substitutes which

can readily {49} be produced when the occasion asks for them.[28]

Those who confine themselves to this debased laughter are naturally

despised by the much-laughing soul. Carlyle—himself a voluminous

laugher at times—when writing of Teufelsdröckh’s great laugh hurls

contempt on these triflers with the big things of mirth in this wise:

they “only sniff and titter and sniggle from the throat outwards; or

at best produce some whiffling, husky cachinnation, as if they were

laughing through wool”.[29] An accurate scientific record of these

strange perversions of laughter, even though it were less picturesque

than Carlyle’s description, would be of considerable value. The

laughter-lover may at least console himself for the injury done him by

this kind of imitation with the reflection that it is empty of joy, and

even of the refreshing sensations which issue from the genuine laugh.

Nay, more, as a forced performance, it presumably has a disagreeable

feeling of irksomeness as its accompaniment.

It is sad to reflect that these spurious varieties of laughter are apt

to appear early in the life of the individual. Preyer tells us he was

able to distinguish, in the third year of his boy’s utterances, the

genuine laugh of hilarity from that of imitation, which was probably

rather more forced. Possibly they all appear among that wondrous

gathering of queer sounds for which infancy is famous, and may be

permanently selected by a certain number of “highly proper” children in

preference to the fuller sounds.

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An Essay on Laughter: Its Forms, Its Causes, Its Development and Its Value · 第 2 / 13 章