that were at first but common, and accidental associations imparted a charm to much that was in itself indifferent, we cannot but believe that there was an original sanctity which time only matured and extended; and an inherent charm, from which the association derived all its power. And when we look candidly and calmly to the works of our early dramatists, it is impossible, we think, to dispute, that, after criticism has done its worst on them; after all deductions for impossible plots and fantastical characters, unaccountable forms of speech, and occasional extravagance, indelicacy, and horrors; there is a facility and richness about them, both of thought and of diction; a force of invention, and a depth of sagacity; an originality of conception, and a play of fancy; a nakedness and energy of passion, and, above all, a copiousness of imagery, and a sweetness and flexibility of verse, which is altogether unrivalled in earlier or in later times; and places them, in our estimation, in the very highest and foremost place among ancient or modern poets."* In this passage, we have the minuteness of enumeration of Eventuality, the discrimination of Comparison and Causality, and the good taste of a fair, but none of the elevation, ornament, and intensity of a large, Ideality. In another part of the same review, we find the following sentences: In Byron, "there are some sweet lines, and many of great weight and energy; but the general march of the verse is cumbrous and unmusical. His lines do not vibrate like polished lances, at once strong and light, in the hands of his persons, but are wielded like clumsy batons in a bloodless affray.""He has too little sympathy with the ordinary feelings and frailties of humanity, to succeed weli in their representation. His soul is like a star, and dwells apart."—"It does not hold the mirror up to nature,' nor catch the hues of surrounding objects; but, like a kindled furnace, throws out its intense glare and gloomy grandeur on the narrow scene which it irradiates." Here we perceive the glow of Ideality; the simplicity of the former style is gone, and the diction has become elevated, figurative, and ornamental. I am not informed regarding the particular sentences which each of the above gentlemen wrote in this review; but these

extracts will serve as brief examples of the differences produced on the style, when Ideality sheds few or many beams on the pen of the author; and I regard the probabilities as very strong, that the passages are assigned to their appropriate sources. The organ is ascertained.

20.-WIT, OR MIRTHFULNESS.

EVERY one knows what is meant by Wit, and yet no word presents more difficulties in its definition. Dr. Gall observes, that, to convey a just idea of the faculty, he could discover no better method than to describe it as the predominant intellectual feature in Rabelais, Cervantes, Boileau, Racine, Swift, Sterne, Voltaire. In all these authors, and in many other persons who manifest a similar talent, the anterior-superior-lateral parts of the forehead are prominent and rounded. When this developement is excessively large, it is attended with a disposition, apparently irresistible, to view objects in a ludicrous light.

Wit, however, is not the only cause of laughter. Laughter, like crying, may arise from a variety of faculties. I am acquainted with a boy in whom Acquisitiveness is large, and he laughs when one gives him a penny. Another youth who possesses a large Love of Approbation, laughs when unexpected praise is bestowed upon him. These facts, to which many more might be added, show that we may smile from any pleasing affection of the sentiments, or even of some of the propensities; and that the cause of a smile is not always the ludicrous. This view is confirmed by the circumstances which occur in hysterical affections. It is not uncommon to see a lady or child laugh and cry alternately and involuntarily, apparently on account of some varying affection of the whole mental system, rather than from any particular, ludicrous, or distressing idea presenting itself by turns to the fancy. I have noticed farther, that a large developement of Hope, Benevolence, and Wonder, producing happy emotions, predisposes the possessor to laugh; while Veneration, Conscientiousness, and Reflection, when predom

inant, give rise to a natural seriousness and gravity, adverse to laughter, the tone of these faculties being grave and solemn.

There may be much excellent wit, without exciting us to laugh. Indeed Lord Chesterfield lays it down as a characteristic feature of an accomplished gentleman, that he should never laugh; and although this rule is absurd, yet there may be a high enjoyment of wit without laughter. The following are instances in point. There is a story of a Nottinghamshire publican, Littlejohn by name, who put up the figure of Robin Hood for a sign, with the following lines below it:

"All ye that relish Ale that 's good,
Come in and drink with Robin Hood;
If Robin Hood is not at home,

Come in and drink with Littlejohn."

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This is genuine wit, what even Chesterfield would allow to be so; and yet it does not force us to laugh. Another instance is the following Louis XV. once heard that an English nobleman (Lord Stair) at his court was remarkably like himself. Upon his Lordship's going to court, the King, who was very guilty of saying rude things, observed, upon seeing him, "A remarkable likeness, upon my word! My Lord, was your mother ever in France ?" To which his Lordship replied, with great politeness: "No, please your majesty, but my father was.' This also is admirably witty; but it does not excite laughter. In Prior's song upon a young lady entreating her mother to allow her to come out (as it is called), there is an allusion which, also, is very fine wit, although it is not laughable. The lady is alluding to the liberty enjoyed, and the conquests made, by her elder sister. The last verse is as fol lows ⚫

In all these instances, every one endowed with any portion of the organ now under consideration, must feel wit, although no vivid emotion of laughter is excited. In the following cases, again, the risible muscles are much more affected, when, in fact, the real point of wit contained in them is infinitely less.

The story of the Nottingham publican, named Littlejohn, who erected the sign of Robin Hood, goes on to say, that Mr. Littlejohn having died, his successor thought it a pity to lose so capital a sign, and so much excellent poetry, and accordingly retained both, only erasing his predecessor's name, he substituted his own in its place. The lines then ran thus:

"All ye who relish Ale that's good,

Come in and drink with Robin Hood;

If Robin Hood is not at home,

Come in and drink with SAMUEL JOHNSON."

The whole wit is now gone, and yet the lines are infinitely more laughable than before. In like manner, when a servant let a tongue fall from a plate, and a gentleman at the table said, "Oh, never mind; its a mere lapsus lingua;" there was genuine wit in the remark; but when another servant, who had heard that this was witty, let fall a shoulder of mutton, and thought to get off, by styling this accident, too, a lapsus linguæ, the whole wit was extinguished, but laughter would be more irresistibly provoked. Now, in what does the wit of the first instances consist? and what is the cause of the more laughable effect of the second class of cases, in which the wit is actually extinguished?

This leads us to a definition of Wit. Locke describes Wit as "lying most in the assemblage of ideas, and putting these together with quickness and variety, wherein can be found any resemblance or congruity, thereby to make up pleasant pictures, and agreeable visions in the fancy." Now, it may be demonstrated, that this definition is erroneous. For example, when Goldsmith, in his beautiful verses on Hope, compares that great blessing of humanity to the light of a taper, he adds a circumstance of resemblance,

which, according to Locke's definition, would be the perfection of Wit:

"Hope, like the glimmering taper's light,

Adorns and cheers the way,

And still as darker grows the night
Emits a brighter ray."

But this, in point of fact, is only exquisitely beautiful, and not in the least witty. In like manner, Moore, in the following verses, introduces comparisons, which also are admirably beautiful, but destitute of every ingredient of Wit. In his song on music's powers to awaken the memory, he says:

"Like the gale which sighs along

Beds of oriental flowers,

Is the grateful breath of song

That once was heard in happier hours.

Filled with balm, the gale sighs on,

When the flowers have sunk in death,
So when pleasure's dream is gone,
Its memory lives in music's breath."

Again, in speaking of the pains of memory, he says,

"When I remember all

The friends so link'd together,

I've seen around me fall
Like leaves in wintry weather;

I feel like one who treads alone

Some banquet hall deserted;

Whose lights are fled, whose garlands dead,

And all but he departed."

In these instances we have the most unexpected resemblances presented to the mind, beautiful, as I have said, but not witty; and when we analyze the images, we are able to refer them all to Comparison and Ideality as their origins; the suggestion of simple resemblance, adorned with beauty, being their constituent elements. Wherein, then, do the comparisons which are witty, such as those already cited, or Hudibras's famous simile,

"When, like a lobster boiled, the morn

From black to red began to turn,"