We hear a vast deal in these ages of what are called "Idées Napoléoniennes," the wisdom of Napoleon, and so forth. Some of this is invented by the writers, and ascribed to Napoleon; some of it is no wisdom at all; and some is what may be called second-hand wisdom, an old familiar face with a new dress. Of the latter sort is the famous saying: "From the sublime to the ridiculous there is but a step." For this remark Napoleon has obtained considerable notice: but the truth is, he borrowed it from Tom Paine; Tom Paine borrowed it from Hugh Blair, and Hugh Blair from Longinus. Napoleon's words are:-- "Du sublime au ridicule il n'y a qu'un pas." The passage in Tom Paine, whose writings were translated into French as early as 1791, stands thus:-- "The sublime and the ridiculous are often so nearly related, that it is difficult to class them separately; one step above the sublime makes the ridiculous, and one step above the ridiculous makes the sublime again." Blair has a remark akin to this: "It is indeed extremely difficult to hit the precise point where true wit ends and buffoonery begins." But the passage in Blair, from which Tom Paine adopted his notion of the sublime and the ridiculous, is that in which Blair, commenting on Lucan's style, remarks:-- "It frequently happens that where the second line is sublime, the third, in which he meant to rise still higher, is perfectly bombast." Lastly, this saying was borrowed by Blair from his brother rhetorician, Longinus, who, in his _Treatise on the Sublime_, has the following sentence at the beginning of section iii.:-- "Τεθόλωται γὰρ τῇ φράσει, καὶ τεθορύβηται ταῖς φαντασίαις μᾶλλον, ἢ δεδείνωται, κἂν ἕκαστον αὐτῶν πρὸς αὐγὰς ἀνασκοπῇς, ἐκ τοῦ φοβεροῦ κατ' ὀλίγον ὑπονοστεῖ πρὸς τὸ εὐκαταφρόνητον." This is referred to by Warton in his comments on Pope's translation of the _Thebais of Statius_; and Dr. Croly, apparently unacquainted with the passages in Paine and Blair, describes it, in his edition of Pope, as the anticipation of Napoleon's celebrated remark. It will be seen that the original saying, in its various peregrinations, has undergone a slight modification, Longinus making the translation a gradual one, "κατ' ὀλίγον," while Blair, Paine, and Napoleon make it but "a step." Yet, notwithstanding this disguise, the marks of its paternity are sufficiently traceable. So much for this celebrated "mot." And, after all, there is very little wit or wisdom in it, that is not expressed or suggested by La Rochefoucauld's _Maxims_:-- "La plus subtile folie se fait de la plus subtile sagesse." "Plus on aime une maîtresse, plus on est près de la haïr;" or by Rousseau's remark-- "Tout état qui brille est sur son déclin;" or by Beaumarchais' exclamation-- "Que les gens d'esprit sont bêtes!" or by the old French proverb-- "Les extrêmes se touchent;" or by the English adage-- "The darkest hour is nearest the dawn;"