SEKIOTJSNESS. 355 



replied Dr Barry, "there is no I in my name." "Give 

 me an inch and I '11 take the I (ell)/' was the ready rejoin- 

 der. " But, friend,"' urged the Quaker, " I spell my name 

 with two ?*'s." "Beally," rejoined his tormentor, "in a 

 hen you might excuse the rr (error)." 



Flat as are all such sallies when written down, they 

 were irresistible at the moment ; and it is hardly necessary 

 to add, tli at much as he excelled in a jeu des mots, few men 

 could have less patience with those weariful word-snappers 

 who, always on the wait for double meanings, will inter- 

 rupt with wretched puns a conversation to which they 

 have nothing else to contribute. Even wit itself was far 

 from being in Mr Wilson's eyes the best of gifts. He 

 would have heartily accorded with what Douglas Jerrold 

 has said in one of his letters to Dickens : " I am convinced 

 that the world will get tired (at least I hope so) of this 

 eternal guffaw at all things. After all, life has something 

 serious in it. It cannot be all a comic history of humanity." 

 Much as he contributed to the amusement of others, Mr 

 Wilson was himself a grave and earnest man, and even 

 when he made people smile, he had no wish to make them 

 frivolous ; nor have we any doubt that a good man's play- 

 fulness will do more to make his neighbours wise and 

 thoughtful, than a dull man's solemnity. 



From the papers which Mr Wilson contributed to 

 various journals, a volume or two of miscellanies, at once 



