There is a perfect consciousness in every form of wit -- using that term in its general sense--that its essence consists in a partial and incomplete view of whatever it touches.

It throws a single ray, separated from the rest,--red, yellow, blue, or any intermediate shade,--upon an object; never white light; that is the province of wisdom.

We get beautiful effects from wit,--all the prismatic colors,--but never the object as it is in fair daylight.
A pun, which is a kind if wit, is a different and much shallower trick in mental optics throwing the SHADOWS of two objects so that one overlies the other.

Poetry uses the rainbow tints for special effects, but always keeps its essential object in the purest white light of truth .-- Will you allow me to pursue this subject a little further?
[They didn't allow me at that time, for somebody happened to scrape the floor with his chair just then; which accidental sound, as all must have noticed, has the instantaneous effect that the cutting of the yellow hair by Iris had upon infelix Dido.

It broke the charm, and that breakfast was over.] -- Don't flatter yourselves that friendship authorizes you to say disagreeable things to your intimates.