Laughter, if rightly us'd, may be confest
In some sort to distinguish man from beast,
While by due management it is allay'd,
While the strict rules of reason are obey'd;
But shews, if over-loud, or over-long,
Your head but weak, altho' your lungs be strong,
For ev'n a smile, not in its proper place,
Too just a blemish on your judgment lays:
But causeless laughter at each thing you see,
That grinning of the thoughtless mobile;
That senseless gaping mirth, that is exprest,
Without the provocation of a jest;
That wild convulsive writhing of the face,
That quite disfigures it from what it was,
Doth with humanity so little suit,
It makes you but a different sort of brute.