In Molière’s Amphitrion there is a dialogue between Mercure and Sosie, evidently taken from the Attic Lucian. Sosie being completely puzzled out of his personal identity, if not out of his senses, says literally, “of my being myself I begin to doubt in good earnest; yet when I feel myself, and when I recollect myself, it seems to me that I am I.” [29]
We see that the puzzle about identity proves at last to be of Grecian origin. It is really edifying to observe how those things which have long been objects of popular admiration shrink and fade when exposed to the light of strict examination. An experienced critic proposed that a work should be written to inquire into the pretensions of modern writers to original invention, to trace their thefts, and to restore the property to the ancient owners. Such a work would require powers and erudition beyond what can be expected from any ordinary individual; the labour must be shared amongst numbers, and we are proud to assist in ascertaining the rightful property even of bulls and blunders; though without pretending, like some literary blood-hounds, to follow up a plagiarism, where common sagacity is at a fault.
CHAPTER II.
IRISH NEWSPAPERS.
We presume that we have successfully disputed the claims imposed upon the public, in behalf of certain spurious alien blunders, pretending to be native, original Irish bulls; and we shall now with pleasure proceed to examine those which have better titles to notice. Even nonsense ceases to be worthy of attention and public favour, unless it be original.
“Dear Lady Emily,” says Miss Allscrip, in the excellent comedy of the Heiress—“Dear Lady Emily, don’t you dote upon folly?”
“To ecstasy!” replies her ladyship; “I only despair of seeing it well kept up.”
We flatter ourselves, “there is no great danger of that,” for we have the Irish newspapers before us, where, no doubt, we shall find a fresh harvest of indigenous absurdity ripe for the sickle.