of invention, either in the fine arts, in the mechanical arts, or in the sciences, there is some new idea, or some new combination of ideas, brought to light by the inventor. This, undoubtedly, may often happen in a way which he is unable to explain: that is, his invention may be suggested to him by some lucky thought, the origin of which he is unable to trace. But when a man possesses an habitual fertility of invention in any particular art or science, and can rely, with confidence, on his inventive powers, whenever he is called upon to exert them, he must have acquired, by previous habits of study, a command over certain classes of his ideas, which enables him, at pleasure, to bring them under his review. The illustration of these subjects may throw light on some processes of the mind, which are not in general well understood: and I shall accordingly, in the following section, offer a few hints with respect to those habits of association which are the foundation of wit; of the power of rhyming; of poetical fancy; and of invention in matters of science.

IV. Illustrations of this doctrine. 1. Of wit.-According to Locke, Wit consists "in the assemblage of ideas; and putting those together with quickness and variety, wherein can be found any resemblance or congruity." I would add to this definition, (rather by way of comment than of amendment,) that wit implies a power of calling up at pleasure the ideas which it combines; and I am inclined to believe, that the entertainment which it gives to the hearer is founded, in a considerable degree, on his surprise at the command which the man of wit has acquired over a part of the constitution, which is so little subject to the will.

That the effect of wit depends partly, at least, on the circumstance now mentioned, appears evidently from this, that we are more pleased with a bon mot which occurs in conversation, than with one in print; and that we never fail to receive disgust from wit, when we suspect it to be premeditated. The pleasure, too, we receive from wit, is heightened, when the original idea is started by one person, and the related idea by another. Dr. Campbell has remarked, that "a witty repartee is infinitely more pleasing than a witty attack; and that an allusion will appear

excellent when thrown out extempore in conversation, which would be deemed execrable in print." In all these cases, the wit considered absolutely is the same. The relations which are discovered between the compared ideas are equally new; and yet, as soon as we suspect that the wit was premeditated, the pleasure we receive from it is infinitely diminished. Instances indeed may be mentioned, in which we are pleased with contemplating an unexpected relation between ideas, without any reference to the habits of association in the mind of the person who discovered it. A bon mot produced at the game of cross-purposes, would not fail to create amusement; but in such cases, our pleasure seems chiefly to arise from the surprise we feel at so extraordinary a coincidence between a question and an answer coming from persons who had no direct communication with each other.

Of the effect added to wit by the promptitude with which its combinations are formed, Fuller appears to have had a very just idea, from what he has recorded of the social hours of our two great English Dramatists. "Jonson's parts were not so ready to run of themselves, as able to answer the spur; so that it may be truly said of him, that he had an elaborate wit, wrought out by his own industry. Many were the wit combats between him and Shakspeare, which two I behold like a Spanish great galleon, and an English man-of-war. Jonson, like the former, was built far higher in learning; solid, but slow in his performances. Shakspeare, with the English man-of-war, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention."

I before observed, that the pleasure we receive from wit is increased, when the two ideas between which the relation is discovered, are suggested by different persons. In the case of a bon mot occurring in conversation, the reason of this is abundantly obvious; because, when the related ideas are suggested by different persons, we have a proof that the wit was not premeditated. But even in a written composition, we are much more delighted when the subject was furnished to the author by

another person, than when he chooses the topic on which he is to display his wit. How much would the pleasure we receive from the Key to the Lock be diminished, if we suspected that the author had the key in view when he wrote that poem; and that he introduced some expressions, in order to furnish a subject for the wit of the commentator. How totally would it destroy the pleasure we receive from a parody on a poem, if we suspected that both were productions of the same author? The truth seems to be, that when both the related ideas are suggested by the same person, we have not a very satisfactory proof of any thing uncommon in the intellectual habits of the author. may suspect that both ideas occurred to him at the same time; and we know that, in the dullest and most phlegmatic minds, such extraordinary associations will sometimes take place. But when the subject of the wit is furnished by one person, and the wit suggested by another, we have a proof, not only that the author's mind abounds with such singular associations, but that he has his wit perfectly at command.

We

The effect of wit increased by the limitations and difficulties of the subject. As an additional confirmation of these observations, we may remark, that the more an author is limited by his subject, the more we are pleased with his wit. And, therefore, the effect of wit does not arise solely from the unexpected relations which it presents to the mind, but arises, in part, from the surprise it excites at those intellectual habits which give it birth. It is evident, that the more the author is circumscribed in the choice of his materials, the greater must be the command which he has acquired over those associating principles on which wit depends, and of consequence, according to the foregoing doctrine, the greater must be the surprise and the pleasure which his wit produces. In Addison's celebrated verses to Sir Godfrey Kneller on his picture of George the First, in which he compares the painter to Phidias, and the subjects of his pencil to the Grecian Deities, the range of the poet's wit was necessarily, confined within very narrow bounds; and what principally delights us in that performance is, the surprising ease and felicity with which he runs the parallel between the English history and

the Greek mythology. Of all the allusions which the following passage contains, there is not one, taken singly, of very extraordinary merit; and yet the effect of the whole is uncommonly great, from the singular power of combination, which so long and so difficult an exertion discovers.

"Wise Phidias thus, his skill to prove,
Thro' many a god advanced to Jove,
And taught the polish'd rocks to shine
With airs and lineaments divine,
Till Greece amaz'd and half afraid,
Th' assembled Deities survey'd.

Great Pan, who wont to chase the fair,
And lov'd the spreading oak, was there;
Old Saturn, too, with up-cast eyes,
Beheld his abdicated skies;

And mighty Mars, for war renown'd,

In adamantine armor frown'd;

By him the childless Goddess rose,
Minerva, studious to compose

Her twisted threads; the web she strung,
And o'er a loom of marble hung;

Thetis, the troubled ocean's queen,
Match'd with a mortal next was seen,
Reclining on a funeral urn,

Her short-liv'd darling son to mourn;
The last was he, whose thunder slew
The Titan race, a rebel crew,

That from a hundred hills ally'd,

In impious league their King defy'd.*

According to the view which I have given of the nature of wit, the pleasure we derive from that assemblage of ideas which

[As this parallel between English history and Grecian mythology may not be as clear and intelligible to American as to English pupils, and as some of the comparisons, in spite of Stewart's commendation of them, may even appear dull and far-fetched, a few words of commentary may not seem useless. "Great Pan" stands for Charles II., who once escaped his pursuers by ensconcing himself in an oak tree, and whose loves were more numerous than select. James II., who feebly lost a throne which, in the gentle but lying phrase of the day, he was said to have " abdicated,” is here likened to Saturn. 66 'Mighty Mars" is William of Orange, “re

it presents, is greatly heightened and enlivened by our surprise at the command displayed over a part of the constitution, which, in our own case, we find to be so little subject to the will. We consider wit as a sort of feat or trick of intellectual dexterity, analogous, in some respects, to the extraordinary performances of jugglers and rope-dancers; and, in both cases, the pleasure we receive from the exhibition, is explicable in part, (I, by no means, say entirely,) on the same principles.

If these remarks be just, it seems to follow as a consequence, that those men who are most deficient in the power of prompt combination, will be most poignantly affected by it, when exerted at the will of another: and therefore, the charge of jealousy and envy brought against rival wits, when disposed to look grave at each other's jests, may perhaps be obviated in a way less injurious to their character.

The same remarks suggest a limitation, or rather an explanation, of an assertion of Lord Chesterfield's, that "genuine wit never made any man laugh since the creation of the world." The observation, I believe to be just, if by genuine wit, we mean wit wholly divested of every mixture of humor: and if by laughter, we mean that convulsive and noisy agitation which is excited by the ludicrous. But there is unquestionably a smile appropriated to the flashes of wit; a smile of surprise and wonder; not altogether unlike the effect produced on the mind and the countenance by a feat of legerdemain, when executed with uncommon success.

2. Of rhyme. The pleasure we receive from rhyme, seems also to arise, partly, from our surprise at the command which

nowned" for his long wars against Louis XIV; while his consort and the sharer of his throne, the childless Mary, stands for Minerva. Thetis stands for Queen Anne, who was "matched with a mortal". - one who was not a king, though married to a queen - Prince George of Denmark; her "short-lived darling son was the Duke of Gloucester, who died at the age of twelve years. "The last" was George I., about as poor a representative of "Jove" as could be imagined; the Highlanders - i. e. the rebel " Titans," from "a hundred hills" attempted in vain to dethrone him in 1715.]