....with their different objects....ends....and characters.

THUS much shall suffice for explaining the spirit, the intent, and the distinguishing qualities of each of

says,

1 serve as an example of the union of sublimity with vehemence. Speaking of Pompey, who had rewarded the valour and public services of our orator's client, by making him a Roman citizen, he "Utrum enim, inscientum vultis contra foedera fecisse, an "scientem? Si scientem, O nomen nostri imperii, O populi Ro"mani excellens dignitas, O Cneii Pompeii sic latè longèque dif"fusa laus, ut ejus gloriæ domicilium communis imperii finibus ter"minetur: O nationes, urbes, populi, reges, tetrarchæ, tyranni, "testes Cneii Pompeii non solum virtutis in bello, sed etiam religionis in pace vos denique muta regiones imploro, et sola terrarum ultimarum vos maria, portus, insulæ, littoraque, quæ est e“nim ora, quæ sedes, qui locus, in quo non extent hujus cùm fortitudinis, tum vero humanitatis, tum animi, tum consili, impres

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sa vestigia? Hunc quisquam incredibili quadam atque inaudita "gravitate, virtute, constantia præditum, foedera scientem neglex"isse, violasse, rupisse, dicere audebit?" Here every thing conspires to aggrandize the hero, and exhalt him to something more than mortal in the minds of the auditory; at the same time, every thing inspires the most perfect veneration for his character, and the most entire confidence in his integrity and judgment. The whole world is exhibited as no more than a sufficient theatre for such a superior genius to act upon. How noble is the idea! All the nations and potentates of the earth are, in a manner, produced as witnesses of his valour and his truth. Thus the orator at once fills the imagination with the immensity of the object, kindles in the breast an ardour of affection and gratitude, and by so many accumulated evidences, convinces the understanding, and silences every doubt. Accordingly, the effect which the words above quoted, and some other things advanced in relation to the same personage, had upon the audience, as we learn from Quintilian, was quite extraordinary. They extorted from them such demonstrations of their their applause and admiration, as he acknowledges to have been

Of wit....humour....and ridicule.

the forementioned sorts of address; all which agree in this, an accommodation to affairs of a serious and important nature.

CHAP. II.

Of wit, humour and ridicule.

THIS article, concerning eloquence in its largest acceptation, I cannot properly dismiss without making some observations on another genus of oratory, in many things similar to the former, but which is naturally suited to light and trivial matters.

THIS also may be branched into three sorts, corresponding to those already discussed, directed to the fancy, the passions, and the will; for that which illuminates the understanding, serves as a common foundation to both, and has here nothing peculiar. This may be styled the eloquence of conversation, as the other is more strictly the eloquence of declama

but ill-suited to the place and the occasion. He excuses it, however, because he considers it, not as a voluntary, but as a necessary consequence of the impression made upon the minds of the people. His words are remarkable, 66 Atque ego illos credo qui aderant, "nec sensisse quid facerent, nec sponte judicioque plausisse, sed ve"lut mente captos, et quo essent in loco ignaros, erupisse, in hunc "voluntatis affectum," lib. viii. cap. 3. Without doubt, a considerable share of the effect ought to be ascribed to the immense advantage which the action and pronunciation of the orator would give to his expression.

tion +. Not, indeed, but that wit, humour, ridicule, which are the essentials of the former, may often be successfully admitted into public harangues. And, on the other hand, sublimity, pathos, vehemence, may sometimes enter the precincts of familiar converse. To justify the use of such distinctive appellations, it is enough that they refer to those particulars which are predominant in each, though not peculiar to either.

SECT. I....Of wit.

To consider the matter more nearly, it is the design of wit to excite in the mind an agreeable surprise, and that arising, not from any thing marvellous in the subject, but solely from the imagery she employs, or the strange assemblage of related ideas presented to the mind. This end is effected in one or other of these three ways: first, in debasing things pompous or seem-. ingly grave: I say seemingly grave, because to vilify what is truly grave, has something shocking in it, which rarely fails to counteract the end: secondly, in aggrandising things little and frivolous: thirdly, in setting ordinary objects, by means not only remote but apparently contrary, in a particular and uncommon point

In the latter of these ancients excel; in the former, the moderns. Demosthenes and Cicero, not to say, Homer and Virgil, to this day, remain unrivalled, and in all antiquity, Lucian himself not excepted, we cannot find a match for Swift and Cervantes.

of view. This will be better understood from the following observations and examples.

THE materials employed by wit in the grotesque pieces she exhibits, are partly derived from those common fountains of whatever is directed to the imaginative powers, the ornaments of elocution, and the oratorical figures, similé, apostrophe, antithesis, metaphor; partly from those she in a manner appropriates to herself, irony, hyperbolé, allusion, parody, and, (if the

* I know no language which affords a name for this species of imagery, but the English. The French esprit or bel esprit, though on some occasions rightly translated wit, hath commonly a signification more extensive and generical. It must be owned, indeed, that, in conformity to the stile of French critics, the term wit, in English writings, hath been sometimes used with equal latitude. But this is certainly a perversion of the word from its ordinary sense, through an excessive deference to the manner and idiom of our ingenious neighbours. Indeed, when an author varies the meaning in the same work, he not only occasions perplexity to his reader, but falls himself into an apparent inconsistency. An error of this kind in Mr Pope has been lately pointed out by a very ingenious and judicious critic." In the essay on criticism it is said,

"True wit is nature to advantage dress'd :

"But immediately after this the poet adds,

"For works may have more wit than does 'em good.

"Now let us substitute the definition in the place of the thing, and "it will stand thus: A work may have more of nature dress'd to advantage, than will do it good. This is impossible; and it is evi"dent, that the confusion arises from the poet's having annexed two different ideas to the same word." Webb's remarks on the Beauties of Poetry, Dialogue II.

reader will pardon my descending so low) paronomasja †, and pun. The limning of wit differs from the rhetorical painting above described in two respects. One is, that in the latter there is not only a resemblance requisite in that particular on which the comparison is founded, but there must also be a general similitude in the nature and quality of that which is the basis of the imagery, to that which is the theme of discourse. In respect of dignity, or the impression they make upon the mind, they must be things homogeneous. What has magnificence, must invariably be pourtrayed by what is magnificent; objects of importance by objects important; such as have grace by things graceful: Whereas the witty, though requiring an exact likeness in the first particular, demands, in the second, a contrariety rather, or remoteness. This enchantress exults in reconciling contradictions, and in hitting on that special light and attitude, wherein you can discover an unexpected similarity in objects, which, at first sight, appear the most dissimilar and heterogeneous. Thus high and low are coupled, humble and superb, momentous and trivial, common and extraordinary. Addison, indeed, observes, that wit is often produced, not by the resemblance, but by the opposition of ideas. But this,

† Paronomasia is properly that figure which the French call jeu de mots. Such as "Inceptio est amentium, haud amantium." Ter. Andr. "Which tempted our attempt." Milt. b. i. “To begird "the Almighty's throne, beseeching or besieging." B. v.

* Spectator.