THE POPULAR WRITER.

WE Do not assume to define the legitimate course of a public writer to any one, but merely to express an opinion in regard to it, and that opinion to bear chiefly upon but two of the important auxiliaries in its pursuit, - wit and humor.

A writer sits down for the purpose of producing a witty article, one that shall make the public laugh in spite of itself; an onerous task for two reasons, - the public is decidedly opposed to laughing without being tickled, and it is exceedingly difficult to find a sensitive spot whereon to apply the straw. By public we mean the average mass of thinking men and women, excluding wholly that class of constitutional gigglers who laugh alike at David's solemnity and Twain's humor.

With these facts before him our writer sends out his thoughts in search of something funny : but witticisms are coy birds and fly high; few are able to capture them at will, or furnish them to order. In nine cases out of ten, wearied with his fruitless endeavors, he descends to a lower plane, makes use of vulgarity, and passes it off for wit. Some, as we have before hinted, seem unable to distinguish between the genuine and the spurious article; others there are who, from their moral status, seem incapable of appreciating anything genuine, who derive their intellectual nourishment almost exclusively from trashy literature. Among these our writer, provided his production gains publicity, is welcome. But as this uncultivated class is not supposed to exist in the "headquarters" of refinement and intelligence, these remarks apply only in part to those whose present literary efforts are confined to our college journals. Upon the hypothesis, then, that Harvard men are shrewd enough to distinguish a good joke from a bad one, and too refined to relish vulgarity, the conclusion is this, that he cannot be a popular writer who, for the sake of a joke, oversteps the bounds of good taste.

But since it is so difficult to be witty, are we to give up the attempt, and devote ourselves to a style of composition as devoid of humor as a statute-book? Certainly not. If we have not the wit to elicit an appreciative smile from our readers, we at least have the ability to throw into our expressions a certain degree of spiciness and originality; otherwise we had better cast our quill aside, and turn our thoughts to other pursuits.

Doubtless an experienced critic in examining our attempts at drollery would say at once that they were strained, unnatural, from the fact that clearness of style, consistency of thought, in short, all the requisites of finished work, had been sacrificed to the one idea of saying something funny.

Like beauty ill-attired, our humor clothed in uncouth and meaningless phrases is undiscovered. True, with our limited experience, and wit perhaps, we can hardly expect our efforts to bear even a favorable comparison with the elaborately finished work of a Holmes or Warner, whose humor seldom offends in essence or expression; yet if we would succeed at all in this vein, our style, like theirs, must be characterized by simplicity and elegance, our productions must possess pith and raciness.

Nothing will more surely destroy the effect of a humorous story than ill-restrained laughter on the part of the narrator. If a writer would divest his article of all poignancy, he has only to show by his repetitions and redundant expressions that he is fully impressed with a conviction of his own mighty wit, and fearful that his readers will fail to discover it.

Pat's experience with his pig was, that when he would drive him to Cork, the pig was determined to take the road to Limerick; and only when his master urged him on, and told him he had chosen the shortest route after all, did the obstinate beast turn himself and take the other road.

If the writer shows to the public either by open avowal or otherwise, that he considers himself competent to lead it along the highway of jollity, it will immediately draw down its face, ridicule his assumption, and refuse to recognize his ability; if, on the other hand, he brings his satire into play, clothing his humor in sober, innocent-looking phrases, all with no apparent purpose of provoking a smile, his point is gained; the public laughs and commends.

C. A. D.