e serious side of objects; they must study the
different meanings and powers of words; they should hear witty
conversation, read epigrams, and comedies; and in all company they
should be exercised before numbers in smart dialogue and repartee.

When we mention the methods of educating a child to be witty, we at
the same time point out the dangers of this education; and it is but
just to warn parents against expecting inconsistent qualities from
their pupils. Those who steadily prefer the solid advantages of
judgment, to the transient brilliancy of wit, should not be mortified
when they see their children, perhaps, deficient at nine or ten years
old in the showy talents for general conversation; they must bear to
see their pupils appear slow; they must bear the contrast of flippant
gayety and sober simplicity; they must pursue exactly an opposite
course to that which has been recommended for the education of wits;
they must never praise their pupils for hazarding observations; they
must cautiously point out any mistakes that are made from a
precipitate survey of objects; they should not harden their pupils
against that feeling of shame, which arises in the mind from the
perception of having uttered an absurdity; they should never encourage
their pupils to play upon words; and their admiration of wit should
never be vehemently or enthusiastically expressed.

We shall give a few examples to convince parents, that children, whose
reasoning powers have been cultivated, are rather slow in
comprehending and in admiring wit. They require to have it explained,
they want to settle the exact justice and morality of the repartee,
before they will admire it.

(November 20th, 1796.) To day at dinner the conversation happened to
turn upon wit. Somebody mentioned the well known reply of the hackney
coachman to Pope. S----, a boy of nine years old, listened
attentively, but did not seem to understand it; his father endeavoured
to explain it to him. "Pope was a little ill made man; his favourite
exclamation was, 'God mend me!' Now, when he was in a passion with the
hackney coachman, he cried as usual, 'God mend me!' 'Mend _you_, sir?'
said the coachman; 'it would be easier to make a new one.' Do you
understand this now, S----?"

S---- looked dull upon it, and, after some minutes consideration,
said, "Yes, Pope was ill made; the man meant it would be better to
make a new one than to mend him." S---- did not yet seem to taste the
wit;