In this sense, Father Bouhours would have been right in giving us to understand that the Germans had no pretensions to wit; for at that time their learned men occupied themselves in scarcely any works but those of labor and painful research, which did not admit of their scattering flowers, of their striving to shine, and mixing up wit with learning. They who despise the genius of Aristotle should, instead of contenting themselves with condemning his physics--which could not be good, inasmuch as they wanted experiments--be much astonished to find that Aristotle, in his rhetoric, taught perfectly the art of saying things with spirit. He states that this art consists in not merely using the proper word, which says nothing new; but that a metaphor must be employed--a figure, the sense of which is clear, and its expression energetic. Of this, he adduces several instances; and, among others, what Pericles said of a battle in which the flower of the Athenian youth had perished: "The year has been stripped of its spring." Aristotle is very right in saying that novelty is necessary. The first person who, to express that pleasures are mingled with bitterness, likened them to roses accompanied by thorns, had wit; they who repeated it had none. Spirited expression does not always consist in a metaphor; but also in a new term--in leaving one half of one's thoughts to be easily divined; this is called "subtleness," "delicacy"; and this manner is the more pleasing, as it exercises and gives scope for the wit of others. Allusions, allegories, and comparisons, open a vast field for ingenious thoughts. The effects of nature, fable, history, presented to the memory, furnish a happy imagination with materials of which it makes a suitable use. It will not be useless to give examples in these different kinds. The following is a madrigal by M. de la Sablière, which has always been held in high estimation by people of taste: _Églé tremble que, dans ce jour,_ _L'Hymen, plus puissant que l'Amour,_ _N'enlève ses trésors, sans quelle ose s'en plaindre_ _Elle a négligé mes avis;_ _Si la belle les eût suivis,_ _Elle n'aurait plus rien à craindre._ Weeping, murmuring, complaining, Lost to every gay delight, Mira, too sincere for feigning, Fears th' approaching bridal night. Yet why impair thy bright perfection, Or dim thy beauty with a tear? Had Mira followed my direction, She long had wanted cause of fear.--GOLDSMITH. It does not appear that the author could either better have masked, or better have conveyed, the meaning which he was afraid to express. The following madrigal seems more brilliant and more pleasing; it is an allusion to fable: _Vous êtes belle, et votre sœur est belle;_ _Entre vous deux tout choix serait bien doux_ _L'Amour était blonde comme vous,_ _Mais il amait une brune comme elle._