'A State Between Gaiety and Unconcern'

“Good-humour may be defined a habit of being pleased; a constant and perennial softness of manner, easiness of approach, and suavity of disposition . . .”

Common sense, no? Consider the opposite of the virtue described here by Dr. Johnson in The Rambler #72, published on this date, Nov. 25, in 1750: perpetual displeasure, a harsh manner, walled-in defensiveness and crudity of disposition. In short, a brute, regardless of education, class or income. When I think of “good-humour” (and not the guy who drives the ice-cream truck), a former newspaper colleague comes to mind. A lifelong bachelor fifteen years my senior, he worked as a copy editor, but by calling he was a jazz drummer. When young, he met his heroes, Armstrong and Ellington. We once went to see Elvin Jones performing in a small club. Decades earlier, my friend had taken photographs of the drummer in concert and preserved the negatives. He had the photos printed and presented them to Jones, a formidably muscled musician. Jones locked my friend in a bear hug, lifted him off the ground and kissed him on the cheek. Rather than being startled by such a forceful show of gratitude, he was mutedly, quietly ecstatic. It was as though a long-deferred objective had been not only attained but received with gratitude more pleasing than money. Johnson writes:

“Good-humour is a state between gaiety and unconcern; the act or emanation of a mind at leisure to regard the gratification of another.”