VARIOUS SHADINGS OF WIT.

Dunstan Times, Issue 693, 30 July 1875, Page 4

VARIOUS SHADINGS OF WIT.

—o — Foote had a vis comica of his own, which being, even as he was liimseF, utterly brutal, came upon friend and foe like the Icicle of a d'ay-horse. Such for ssniplfi, was his truculent reply to the unoftbnsivo little man who mildly remarked that he had just come up from Essex—“ The devil you have 1 Who drove you 1” Sheridan’s wit combined with the flash of the gem its solidity, too, and was invaluably free from gratuitous rancour. It was “ more nearly allied to good nature” than wit always. Dean Swift’s wit was usually like forked lightning, scathing and blasting what it touched; hut it was at times as mild as the moonbeams. It happened one day that his cook, whom he invariably called “ Sweetheart,” had greatly overroasted the only joint ho had for dinner. “ Sweetheart,” said the Dean in the blandest possible tones, *■ this leg of mutton is overdone. Take it back into the kitchen and do it less.” The cook replied that the thing was impossible. “ But,” said the Dean, if it had been underdone yon could have done it more.” The cook assented. “ Well, then, Sweetheart,” rejoined the master, let it be a lesson to you. if you needs must commit a fault, at least take care that it is one that will admit of a remedy. The mingled wit and wisdom of this admonition are delightful. The vis comica of Sydney Smith was magnificent. It must have been glorious in his conversation, for apart from the enchantment of delivery, it is glorious in his writings. It foams and flashes through his graphic page like an exulting river through a picturesque landscape. It now and then occurred that he fell in with a dullard who failed to perceive at a glance the aim and purport of the Canon’s humor. This is a “ damper” to most men, but Sydney Smith always turned it to good account. How very funny is this : “ A joke goes a great way in the country. I have known one last pretty well for seven years. I remember making a joke after a meeting of the clergy in Yorkshire, where there was a Rev. Mr Buckle, who never spoke when I proposed his health. I said that he was a buckle without a tongue. Most persons on hearing laughed, but my next neighbor sat unmoved, and sunk in thought. At last, a quarter of an honr after we had all done, he sudsenly nndged me, exclaiming, ‘ I see now what you meant, Mr Smith; 301 meant a joke.’ ‘Yes,’l said, ‘sir ( I believe I did.’ Upon which he I egan laughing so heartily that I thought he would choke, and was obliged to pat him on the back.