laughing at Pope for being crooked."

_Mr. ----._ "If Pope had not said any thing rude to that man, the man
would have done very wrong to have laughed at him. If the officer had
walked into a coffee-house, and pointing at Pope, had said, 'there's a
little crooked thing like a note of interrogation,' people might have
been pleased with his wit in seeing that resemblance, but they would
have disliked his ill nature; and those who knew Mr. Pope, would
probably have answered, 'Yes Sir, but that crooked little man is one
of the most witty men in England; he is the great poet, Mr. Pope.' But
when Mr. Pope had insulted the officer, the case was altered. Now, if
the officer had simply answered, when he was asked what a note of
interrogation was, 'a little crooked thing;' and if he had looked at
Pope from head to foot as he spoke these words, every body's attention
would have been turned upon Pope's figure; but then the officer would
have reproached him only for his personal defects: by saying, 'a
little crooked thing _that asks questions_,' the officer reproved Pope
for his impertinence. Pope had just asked him a question, and every
body perceived the double application of the answer. It was an exact
description of a note of interrogation, and of Mr. Pope. It is this
sort of partial resemblance quickly pointed out between things, which
at first appear very unlike, that surprises and pleases people, and
they call it wit."

How difficult it is to explain wit to a child! and how much more
difficult to fix its value and morality! About a month after this
conversation had passed, S---- returned to the charge: his mind had
not been completely settled about _wit_.

(January 9th, 1796.) "So, S----, you don't yet understand wit, I see,"
said M---- to him, when he looked very grave at something that was
said to him in jest. S---- immediately asked, "What _is_ wit?"

_M----_ answered (laughing) "Wit is the folly of grown up people."

_Mr. ----._ "How can you give the boy such an answer? Come to me, my
dear, and I'll try if I can give you a better. There are two kinds of
wit, one which depends upon words, and another which depends upon
thoughts. I will give you an instance of wit depending upon words:

"Hear yonder beggar, how he cries,
I am so lame I cannot rise!
If he tells truth, he lies."

"Do you understand that?"

_S----._ "No! If he tells truth, he lies! No, he can't both tell truth
and tell a lie at the same