"_Manes_," "_umbra_," "_simulacra_," are the expressions of Cicero and Virgil. The Germans say, "_geist_"; the English, "ghost"; the Spaniards, "_duende_," "_trasgo_"; the Italians appear to have no term signifying ghost. The French alone have made use of the word "spirit" (esprit). The words for all nations should be, "phantom," "imagination," "reverie," "folly," "knavery." SECTION IV. _Wit._ When a nation is beginning to emerge from barbarism, it strives to show what we call wit. Thus, in the first attempts made in the time of Francis I., we find in Marot such puns, plays on words, as would now be intolerable. _Remorentin la parte rememore:_ _Cognac s'en cogne en sa poitrine blême,_ _Anjou faict jou, Angoulême est de même._ These fine ideas are not such as at once present themselves to express the grief of nations. Many instances of this depraved taste might be adduced; but we shall content ourselves with this, which is the most striking of all. In the second era of the human mind in France--in the time of Balzac, Mairet, Rotrou, Corneille--applause was given to every thought that surprised by new images, which were called "wit." These lines of the tragedy of "Pyramus" were very well received: _Ah! voici le poignard qui du sang de son maître_ _Sest souillé lâchement; il en rougit, le traître!_ Behold the dagger which has basely drunk Its master's blood! See how the traitor blushes! There was thought to be great art in giving feeling to this dagger, in making it red with shame at being stained with the blood of Pyramus, as much as with the blood itself. No one exclaimed against Corneille, when, in his tragedy of "Andromeda," Phineus says to the sun: _Tu luis, soleil, et ta lumière_ _Semble se plaire à m'affliger._ _Ah! mon amour te va bien obliger_ _À quitter soudain ta carrière._ _Viens, soleil, viens voir la beauté,_ _Dont le divin éclat me dompte,_ _Et tu fuiras de honte_ _D'avoir moins de clarté._ O sun, thou shinest, and thy light Seems to take pleasure in my woe; But soon my love shall shame thee quite, And be thy glory's overthrow. Come, come, O sun, and view the face Whose heavenly splendor I adore; Then wilt thou flee apace, And show thy own no more. The sun flying because he is not so bright as Andromeda's face, is not at all inferior to the blushing dagger. If such foolish sallies as these found favor with a public whose taste it has been so difficult to form, we cannot be surprised that strokes of wit, in which some glimmering of beauty is discernible, should have had these charms. Not only was this translation from the Spanish admired: _Ce sang qui, tout versé, fume encor de courroux,_ _De se voir répandu pour d'autres que pour vous._ --CID, act ii, sc. 9.