its northern blasts exceedingly troublesome, would be continually
crying, "how they _bore us_!" which in time gave rise to the word
_boreas_, or as it was originally pronounced _bore us_. Here we
presently come at the etymology of the verb _to bore_, which has
hitherto baffled all research and made futile every conjecture. It
cannot be questioned that the Persian _Boreus_, and _Borus_ the son of
Perieres, had their names from some such obnoxious qualities as are
attributed to the wind, though we are at a loss to guess what they were,
and are by no means willing to venture an hypothesis that may lead to
indecency. It is worthy of remark, as an astonishing fact, that these
gentlemen are mentioned by Polyænus and Apollodorus, but without a word
in the _Stratagems_ of the one, or in the _Bibliotheca_ of the other,
that throws any light on the matter.
_Philostratus._ A famous sophist, and very liberal and expensive in his
entertainments, from which circumstance his friends very properly gave
him the cognomen of _fill us, treat us_. The penultimate of Philostratus
is short in its derived state, but this is a liberty perfectly excusable
in these cases, and coming assuredly under the description of _parcè
detorta_.
_Mannus._ It is imagined that this divinity obtained his name from
having once undertaken to furnish some _fleet with men_; but from being
a German God, and for other reasons, I confess that I have no great
faith in this etymology.
_Æsymnus._ This anxious politician's consulting Apollo, according to
Pausanias, on the subject of legislation, made the witlings of his time
call the God his nurse, and then in ridicule exclaim _ease him nurse_,
which speaks for itself.
_Bacchus_, or _Back us_; and admirably so called, because he is found
to be the second best in the world, inspiring courage even in a coward.
_Confucius._ About the etymology of the title of this famous Chinese
philosopher, we are much in the dark; but it seems in the greatest
degree probable that he obtained it from being a philosopher of the
modern description, who put every thing into _confusion_.
_Damon._ This poet received his name from a circumstance that attended
his banishment from Athens. When the sentence was brought to him, he
began d--ning and swearing most bitterly, on which the officer, a rough
fellow, said, "Oh, you may _Damn on_ as long as you like, it does not
signify, you must go." And go he did, but still swearing; and the
people, who are tickled with a feather, hearing the officer's
observations repeated, nicknamed him _Damon_, or as it was formerly
written and spoken, _Dammon_.
_Alala._ The goddess of war. See Plutarch de Glor. Athen. So called
because the moment she took the field on any side, that side had the
battle _all hollow_.
_Æsacus._ He persecuted a nymph so much who did not like him, that she
at last plunged into the sea, and was metamorphosed into a parrot, and
in that state still continued to exclaim, as she was wont, _he's a
curse_, which soon became the lover's appellation.
_Titans._ A title given to the sons of Cœlus and Terra, by Saturn,
when they warred against him. They were at first known as Hyperion,
Briareus, &c.; but when the god heard that they were about to fight with
him, he smiled, and cried, "Ay, ay,--ecod they're _tight 'uns_!" and
this name has distinguished them ever since.
The above word reminds me of an eastern one--ןודבא or
_Abaddon_, which will as indubitably as a thousand instances of _the
like nature_, prove the superior antiquity of the English language over
that of the Jews, as well as that of the Greeks, and it is very
probable, _in an equal degree_, over every other, dead or alive. Abaddon
is a name belonging to the devil, and _the most ignorant_ will not
scruple to confess that they plainly perceive its expressive etymology
in _A bad 'un_.
In fine--sunt certi denique _fines_--There have been writers who have
scarcely left Troy or its famous war "a local habitation and a name;"
others go still further, and say that no such man as Homer, the author
of the Iliad, ever existed; and a third party, proceeding another step,
talk of proving incontestibly that there _never were any ancients_. But
one wise man (with whom I am proud to join issue) positively affirms,
that those who are called the ancients were born in the infancy of the
world, and do not deserve the title, but that we who live in this
enlightened age, with all the wisdom of past times at our command, are,
truly speaking, the just and legitimate ancients. This, being
_reasonably_ substantiated, lends its powerful assistance to confirm the
opinion respecting the prime antiquity of our native tongue, and I
cannot conclude without indulging the irresistible impulse I feel to
acknowledge, that I have no more doubt than I have with respect to _any
thing yet stated_, that it will ultimately prove to be the _universal
language_.
EVERY MAN HIS OWN PUNSTER,
BEING
RULES FOR PUNNING,
OR
PUNS FOR ALL PERSONS AND SEASONS.
A FRAGMENT.
"Comitantibus armis,
PUN_ica_ se--attollet _gloria_." _Virg. Æn._ iv.
Prefatory remarks on the art of punning--its antiquity from Homer's
_outis_, through Sophocles, Cicero, &c. down to Shakspeare, &c. Its
advantages over wit. Wit requires wit in the hearer to comprehend it--a
lasting and insuperable objection to its universality. Puns, on the
contrary, require no wit to make them, nor any to understand them. Prove
this by their well-known effect on stupidity in drawing-rooms, theatres,
&c. An act to abolish punning would be the destruction of three-quarters
of what are called the _wits_ of our times, and fifteen-sixteenths of
the dramatic writers.
Under these circumstances of fashion and prevalence, a man might as well
go into a gambling house without knowing how to play, as into company
without knowing how to make himself agreeable by punning. Rules are
necessary for the acquisition of every art. Let what Ovid desired to
have said of him, in respect to love, be said of me, with regard to
punning--"_Magister erat._"
In the _rules_ divide thus--puns for every day, in one week, in winter,
spring, summer, and autumn. Puns, in these different seasons, for men,
and puns for women, varied according to the class of life, and the rank
held in the particular establishment, &c. &c.
MASTER OF A FAMILY.
_First day--Sketch to be filled up._
_Sunday._--This is a day of rest for all things but women's tongues and
puns--they have none. You go to church, of course, to set a good example
to your family, but let _them_ attend to the parson, you may be
preparing puns against dinner-time, when you expect a party.
The man of the house is nothing without his wife. It is becoming that
she should assist you--she is your _help-mate_. Connive together, and
let her put _leading questions_. Half an hour before dinner--company
come. All very stupid as usual. Mrs. ---- observes, that she fears that
the dinner will be rather late, as she was obliged to take _Adam_, the
footman, to the park, on account of the children. The husband
immediately remarks, that Adam may be _the first_ of men, but he is _a
damn_ slow fellow.
_Mrs. ----._ My dear _Tom_, you deserve a _Cane_ for that.
_Mr. ----._ Ay, if you were _Able_ to give it to me, who am a _host_
to-day. Perhaps you were on the _Eve_ of saying this; well, there's as
much chance in these things as in a _Pair o' dice_.
(_A general laugh._)
Here you are at the end of this excellent subject. I don't know that any
thing more can be made of it.
N.B. Hire no man unless his name is _Adam_, or he will suffer you to
call him so.
Let your children enter. Miss Lucy, George, and Theodore, all punsters,
but this day is devoted to the father. Call your daughter, _Lucy_,
because, if you are a _profound_ scholar, you can frequently bring in
"_luce_ clarior." Your other girl, _Sally_, ran away with an apothecary.
Mrs. ---- will say this, and you'll exclaim, "Ah, Sal _volatile_!"
Invite a poor French priest[29] to your table at these times. He is
always to ask, when your children appear, "_Est ce qu'ils sont tous par
la même mère?_"
[29] The word _Emigré_, which appears in this article as before printed,
would at once destroy the _unquestionable_ right Swift has to the honour
of this MS. for _Emigré_ did not obtain in our language till long after
his death.
When you are to reply--"Yes, I believe they are all by the same _mare_,
but I won't answer for the horse[30]."
[30] This has been given to Foote; but dates decide.
This is not very complimentary to your wife; but it would be a pretty
joke indeed, if a good pun was to be lost for such a trifling
consideration.
If you consult decency too much, there's an end of wit. He who digs for
diamonds must not be over squeamish about dirt. Here Mrs. ---- may say,
"My dear _Tom_, I wish the man would bring up the dinner."
Mr. ----. "_Bring up_ the dinner, my love? Heaven forbid! As Dido says,
that's '_sic sic_,' so so[31]."
[31] Æn. iv. 660.
You must not be too nice, as I observed before.
(_Mrs. ---- rings the bell._)
_Enter Servant._
_Mrs. ----._ Is dinner ready?
_Mr._ (_Looking round._)--The _chops_ are, I'm sure.
_Adam._ It is dishing now, ma'am.
(_A crash heard as if an accident._)
_Mr. ----._ _Dishing_ indeed--I fear it's _dished_.
_Dinner--all seated._
_Mrs. ----._ Will any body take soup?
_Mr. ----._ What, before grace, you _grace_less rogues. There's no parson
here, I see; though we are not without some of _the cloth_. Well, I'll
say it--grace at dinner is _meet_.
[A universal laugh. The sight of dinner is a breeder of good-humour.]
Take care to have the salt-cellars put on the table empty.
_Mr. ----._ Why what the devil's this--no salt!
_Mrs. ----._ (As planned.)--You have _salt_ enough, I'm sure, my dear.
_Mr. ----._ "Ego _pun_ior ipse," Ovid. Very well, very well! my wife is
not a_miss_: but the salt, Adam.
_Adam._ Sir, the house-keeper's gone out, and I don't know where to get
any.
_Mr. ----._ Why an't here four _salt_ sellers?
[The Frenchman does not understand this, but he is to laugh heartily
nevertheless.]
_Mrs. ----._ Here, Adam; take this key, and you'll find some in the
store-room, at the top of the house.
_Mr. ----._ _Attic salt_, eh! ha, ha, ha! Well, come let's fall to; this
meat will _keep_ no longer without salt.
_Mrs. ----._ My dear _Tom_, that rich dish will only give you the gout.
_Mr. ----._ Pooh! "Chacun à son _gout_." Why should not I eat it, as well
as another?
_Mrs. ----._ Bless me, how you mangle that duck.
_Mr. ----._ _Mangle_ it, my love. Well, I think that's better than to
_wash and iron_ it; but tell me how you'll have it done, and you shall
find me _duc_tile.
[Many opportunities will offer of making _obscene puns_, but I give no
rules for these; they come naturally to every punster! All I shall say
is, that they must _never_ be neglected.]
Let your cook be famous for pancakes. One of your little boys must
inquire for some.
_Mr. ----._ My dear, this is Sunday; you know we can't have pancakes till
_Fri_-day.
[Many more puns must be introduced. _Champaign_, _real pain_; _after
all_ cheese is best, &c.]
The company will, probably, add some, and you may, also, by accident;
however, you'll have this advantage over your friends, that you'll be
certain of all these while you're with your wife, and at home. Your
acquaintance, of course, have _names_, and if they have no other merit,
it's very hard if you can't make something of them in the pun way. Any
blockhead can do that.
DESSERT.
_Mr. ----._ "Give every man his _deserts_." Shakspeare.
_Mrs. ----._ My love, shall I send you a peach?
_Mr. ----._ Yes, and if it isn't a good one, I'll im_peach_ your
judgment.
By connivance with the Frenchman, he must offer you a pinch of Maccuba
snuff, saying he's sorry it is not better, but his Tonquin bean has lost
its flavour. You then reply--Ay, I see it's one of the _has_-beens.
_Mrs. ----._ Oh! that's too bad.
_Mr. ----._ Why, it's wit at a _pinch_, at any rate; therefore it need
not _make you baw--l_, as if I had got into the wrong _box_.--(_Turning
to the boys._)--What's Latin for goose, eh!
_Boys._ Brandy, papa!
_Mrs. ----._ You'll kill yourself with that vile liquor.
_Mr. ----._ How can that be--Isn't it eau de _vie_?
_Mrs. ----_, at some time, must call for the nutmeg grater.--You take it,
and address your neighbour: Sir, you are a great man, but here is a
_grater_.
The sweetmeats will be praised of course.
_Mr. ----._ All my wife's doing. Nancy's a notable woman, I assure you;
but I'm more _not able_ than she is, an't I, my dear?
_Ladies all rise._
_Mrs. ----._ (_Blushing._)--I can take a hint. My dear, pray touch the
bell.
_Mr. ----._ (_Chucking a young lady under the chin._)--Yes, my love, I'll
touch the _belle_.
_Mrs. ----._ (_Going._)--You wag!
_Mr. ----._ No, I think you _wag_, but--(_bowing_)--I _bow_ to you.
The ladies gone, the gentlemen need no instructions. They will all have
recourse to their _mother tongue_, and the most ignorant will shine the
most. The master must begin with half a dozen obscene puns, to make
himself agreeable, and the conversation general[32].
[32] Here I have run my pencil through several puns on the ladies'
retiring. Though he says it is unnecessary, _Swift_ could not help
indulging the natural bent of his genius, which is a strong proof of the
authenticity of the MS. An additional evidence appears in a query in a
memorandum made on the margin of this MS. for the puns for a _farmer_.
Some one, who has rye-fields, is to write to him--Pray send _me men to
mow rye_? and he is to return a skull. _Memento mori_--Don't you see?
But query--will _mowing_ rye do for any but _our Irish farmers_?
THE TEA TABLE.
_Mr. ----._ (_Entering after all the rest._)--Ah! Mrs.----, what I see
you are _at home_ to a t to-night.
_Boys._ Pa, we have had no tea.
_Mr. ----._ "Sine _te_ juventas." That's wrong. It is _right_ that you
should not be _left_ out.
_Mrs. ----_ purposely sends a dish of tea to a lady, without sugar, of
which she complains.
_Mr. ----._ (_Handing the sugar basin._)--Well, ma'am, if you do not like
it, you may _lump_ it.
[Miss Lucy plays on the piano-forte, but is to fail in her first
attempt.]
_Mrs. ----._ (_As planned._)--That comes of playing at sight.
_Mr. ----._ At _sight_! Why what the deuce would come if she was to shut
her eyes?
If any thing like serious or sensible conversation should be introduced,
and there's no knowing what some dull fellow may not do, put an end to
it at once with a pun. If he talk of war, suppose he means the _Pun_-ic
war, and say that in your battles you are with Livy--"_Punc_tim magìs
quam cœsim peto hostem." If he speak of the army, look archly at your
wife, and say you expect soon to have a son _in arms_, &c. Should he
mention the Prince of Wales, inquire, which is greater, the DOLPHIN _of
France_ or the _Prince of_ Wales? solving the question immediately with
Juvenal's
"_Delphinis Balæna Britannica major._"
Than DOLPHINS greater is the BRITISH WHALE.
Now something about going into _Bed_fordshire and the land of _Nod_ will
wind up what is commonly called a very pleasant day, full of wit,
humour, and repartee. I must not forget to observe, that, if you can add
any _practical jokes_, which lead to puns, and fall _at all short_ of
murder, the treat will be improved.
Viz. Pinch a piece out of a man's arm, to say you did not know there was
any _harm_. Break his shin--that's _leg_-al. Pull away his chair[33]
when he is sitting down--you've _good ground_ for it. Run your head
against his--_two heads_ are better than one. Overturn the milk-jug on
him--then he's in the _milky way_. So with the urn--then he's in _hot
water_. When he hops about, say he seems in a _lame_-ntable way. Let the
boys knock the candle into some lady's lap--this you may call a
_wick_-ed thing, &c. &c. Intersperse these, with other such amiable
pleasantries as these, and all the fools (a commanding _majority_ in
every _assembly_ in the country), will shout for joy, extol your wit,
and applaud your ingenuity.
[33] _Memorandum._ This joke is recommended, by the _surgeons_, for all
seasons; but, in my _system_, better arranged, it will be proper to
distinguish. In the _winter_, when the carpet's down, you are glad to
bring that affair on the _tapis_. In the _spring_, the _earth_ begins to
_bear_ every thing. In the _summer_, it's "summum jus," because it's
"_summa_ injuria," and the carpet being up, you give him _board_ with _a
deal_ of pleasure, that's _plain_: and in the _autumn_, you allude to
the _fall_. Besides, what does he do in a chair--all flesh is
_grass_--_hay_!
[Illustration]
LONDON:
PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS.
CONTENTS.
Page
Dedication to the King, i
A Word to the Witty and the Wise, iii
Description of Frontispiece, vii
Prolegomena on Punning, 1
Origin of Punning, 19
Art of Punning, by Swift and Sheridan, 23
Satire on Sheridan, by Dr. Tisdal, 68
Dying Speech of Tom Ashe, 72
A Pestilent Neighbour, 77
Punning Epistle on Money, 78
God's Revenge against Punning, by Dr. Arbuthnot, 79
The Birth of a Pun, 84
Antiquity of Puns, 85
Punning on Surnames, 86
Punning run mad, 90
Bashful on Punning, 93
Examples in Punning, 97
W.R. V--ana, 125
Norburyana, 129
Punning Epigrams, 143
The Punster's Court, 165
Puns for all Purposes, 166
A Punning Essay, 183
Every Man his own Punster, 190
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Page
1. Vignette to Title--The Punster's Court
2. The Dance of Wit, v
3. Squibs and Crackers, a 5th of November scene, 1
4. The Androgynos, or Jove's Pun, 19
5. The Art of Punning, 23
6. The Lord's Humbassador, 63
7. The Dancing Punster, 70
8. The Birth of a Pun, 84
9. The Bashful Punster, 93
10. The Magic of Punning, 96
11. The Punster's Bowl, 97
12. Lord Norbury and Court, 129
13. The Sporting Punsters, 143
14. Death of Poor Carlo, 164
15. Gunpowder Wit, 166
16. Tartani's Dream, 182
With Numerous Elegant Vignettes interspersed through the Work.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
Except for obvious typos and printer errors, which have been corrected
without comment, the author's spelling, grammar, and use of punctuation
are retained as in the original publication, with the following
exceptions:
Page 44. Change cremona to Cremona.
... threw down a Cremona-fiddle with a ...
Page 47. Change tory to Tory.
... pretends to be a Tory, or ...
Page 52. Correct typo. Change recal to recall.
... you may recall a discourse ...
Page 128. Opening quote added in the paragraph ending "_even a
major-ity_."
Page 180. Correct typo. Change, to.
... it is An-acre-on-tick.