examples of perfection, we shall find that this rule cannot be admitted without the exclusion of the finest thoughts in our most witty writers. Cowley and Waller abound in instances of serious and delicate wit, which to a high degree cause surprise and admiration, but totally unmixed with any thing ludicrous. I might copy almost their whole works, with those of all the amorous and gallant poets in that age for such examples. It would be an unprecedented severity to deny wit to Waller's celebrated allusion to the story of Apollo and Daphne;

Like Phoebus, thus, acquiring unsought praise,
He catch'd at love, but fill'd his arms with bays.

The following instance, (from Mrs. Greville's Prayer for Indifference,) which even nearly approaches to the pathetic, must be allowed to possess real wit.

Nor ease nor peace that heart can know,

That like the needle true,

Turns at the touch of joy or woe,

But turning, trembles too.

Even Hudibras, which affords such a profusion of ludicrous wit, contains also some of the serious kind. Thus, referring to the constancy of an unfavoured lover, there is this delicately witty simile,

True as the dial to the sun

Altho' it be not shin'd upon.

Comparison is not the only source from whence wit is derived. The agreeable surprise which characterises it, is produced not only by the unexpected junction of an object with another foreign to it, but from some uncommon turn of a thought, as it were, within itself; where some unexpected deduction is made from the premises; or in other words, to speak in the language of the definition, where the relation of cause and effect, antecedent and consequent, is distant and fanciful. This kind of wit is chiefly to be met with in epigram, and the variations in those pieces which are promiscuously ranged under this title, will very well serve to point out the circumstances by which a thought becomes ingenious and

The original Greek epigram was merely, as its name imports, an inscription, containing a single thought, simply turned and expressed. It was generally some moral sentence, or some plain fact relating to the particular subject of the inscription; and its sole merit consisted in propriety of expression, and harmony of versification. In short, let critics as much as they please affect to admire the simplicity of the Greek epigram, it was certainly a very insipid piece of compósition. Martial, first of any writer whose works are descended to our time, changed the nature of the epigram, by introducing unusual thoughts, and artificial turns of sentiment. Some of his epigrams exactly answer the idea of fine writing before given; consisting of natural, but uncommon thoughts, and exciting rather a calm admiration and applause, than a sudden surprise. To these, the term of ingenious, may, I think, be properly applied. The following examples are translated from

When all the blandishments of life are gone,
The coward creeps to death; the brave lives out.

I offer love, but thou respect wilt have;
Take, Sextus, all thy pride and folly crave,
But know I can be no man's friend and slave.

He's grave and sober-well, what's that to me?
Such let my slave, not my companion be.

Add this of Prior,

Blest be the princes who have fought
For pompous names, or wide dominion;
Since by their error we are taught

That happiness is but opinion.

If with these the following instances be carefully compared, it will perhaps go nearer than abstract definitions can do, to give a just notion of the gradation from fine writing and ingenuity, to wit.

The golden hair that Galla wears

Is her's; who would have thought it?
She swears 'tis her's, and true she swears,
For I know where she bought it.

Whilst in the dark on thy soft hand I hung,
And heard the tempting Syren in thy tongue,
What flames, what darts, what anguish I endur❜d!
But when the candle enter'd, I was cur'd.

Cinna cries out, I am not worth a groat;
And is, plague on him! what he would be thought.

On his death-bed poor

Lubin lies,

His spouse is in despair,

With frequent sobs, and mutual cries,
They both express their care.

A diff'rent cause, says parson Sly,
The same effect may give ;
Poor Lubin fears that he shall die ;
His wife, that he may live.

On a LADY'S PATCH.

That envious speck upon your face
Had been a foil on one less fair,
On you it hides a charming grace,
And you, in mercy, placed it there.

She gazes all around her,

And wins a thousand hearts;

But Cupid cannot wound her,

For she has all his darts.