Concerning Humor

If you were suddenly to find yourself in a strange and unfamiliar place, and wanted to know whether you have arrived in a blessed land or in unhappy country, there are several tests that could be applied. And one of them would be to observe whether or not you found there a warm and kindly and irrepressible humor—if you found there the unafraid laughter of children, a sympathetic and understanding smile, and a delicate seasoning of wit in the commonplace and ordinary things of life. If these things you found, then you could be fairly sure that had arrived in a blessed and happy place. Humor in its highest sense flourishes in an atmosphere of freedom, and is blighted in an atmosphere of oppression. When you find listless and apprehensive children and sullen and unresponsive men and women, then you may know that you have come upon an unhappy place where the happiness of good humor is no longer in evidence. But when we speak of the virtues of humor, we must distinguish between some things that are really humorous and some things that have been masquerading in the name of humor, but which are, in fact, impostors. Bitter irony is not good humor. The deep and distressing embarrassment or hurt of an unoffending victim is not humor, even though it sometimes brings forth loud laugher. Unkind sarcasm is not good humor when it undeservedly causes scars and discomfort. The senseless muttering and uncoordinated antics of an inebriate are not good humor; giddiness and light-mindedness and hysteria are not good humor. Humor in its highest form is temperate. Therefore, when humor becomes too heavy and venomous, or too and light and giddy, or when it becomes off-color, we had better give critical look to the environment we are in and company we keep.