Part 9

"To get into the gallery of the House of Commons," said a punster, "a man must have the ribs of a _rhinoceros_; to obtain a _good place_ in the body of the house, the qualities of a _camelion_; to secure a seat on the _treasury_ bench, he must not fear to _tread-a-wry_. _Opposition_ he must write thus--'_oppo_'-site--_position_; _ministerial, men-who-steer-well_. _Private bills_ he may quote as examples of _private punishment_; the _speaker's_ dinners, a _speechless_ banquet, where every guest leaves _politics_ for _polite-tricks_. To speak _well_ and _long_, you must display _artificial_ feelings, have _leathern_ lungs, a face of _brass_, an _elephant's_ sagacity, and a _lion's_ courage; and, with all these qualifications, you may _perchance_ be considered _bear_able; without them you are certain to come in for a _scrape_[26]."

[26] Alluding to the practice of the members _scraping_ their feet upon the floor when a speaker is considered tiresome.

A PUNSTER'S APHORISMS.

If you mean to be a _domestic_ animal, never marry a woman of a _wild_ disposition. An _ugly helpmate_, though she may have the wealth of _Plutus_, and the _virtues_ of an _angel_, can never be considered as a _lovely wife_. If you would live happily, always _whistle_ when your wife _whines_ or _scolds_. If she should grow _furious_, take yourself into the _cool air_, without trying to pacify her. A man who exposes himself to a _storm_ is sure to get _pelted_. Never offend the ears of a modest woman by a coarse or indelicate expression: the _fairest mirror_ is stained by a _passing breath_. Never marry a woman for _money_, lest, obtaining the _honey_, you are stung by the _queen bee_. Never lose an opportunity for making a _good pun_, when you can do it consistent with _good nature_, and without endangering the esteem of _good friends_. A _pun_, to pass _current_, should bear the _stamp_ of _wit_, and be _struck_ off in the _mint_ of _originality_. A _genuine bad pun_ is not always a _bad joke_. _Late_ hours make _lazy_ servants, a _loquacious_ wife, and end in making a _long_ purse _light_, a _long_ illness _heavy_, and _long life_ very uncertain.

Bernard Blackmantle.

TARTANI'S DREAM--A TAIL PIECE.

Blackmantle's labours here, are done, Ye wits, and wags, in mirth who revel; Approve each epigram and pun, And Bernard proves a merry devil.

A

PUNNING ESSAY

ON THE

ANTIQUITY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE,

BY

THE AUTHOR OF 'MY POCKET-BOOK[27];'

_Originally printed as one of Dean Swift's Three Manuscripts, discovered at St. Patrick's Abbey._

A FRAGMENT.

[27] This highly celebrated little book, it will by some be remembered, was written to ridicule Sir John Carr's 'Stranger in Ireland;' and a more happy, witty, original, and pleasant satire, is not to be found in the English language. The book is now _out of print_, and only to be met with in the libraries of the curious. Had I any reason to suppose that the author (Mr. Dubois), would have republished his work, much as I should have had to regret the loss of these articles here, I certainly would not have taken them to do injury to their own witty and original parent.

We observe in Homer's _Batrachomyomachia_, that the instant the frog Calaminthius sees the mouse _Pternoglyphus_, he is so frightened that he abandons his shield and jumps into the lake: and this confirms our etymology of the mouse's name, _Turn ugly face_.

In the same poem, also, we find a warrior-mouse called _Lichenor_, which some, who, like certain commentators on Shakspeare, will always be running to the Greek for interpretations, consider as signifying _one addicted to licking_, but here we see the imbecility of foreign resources, and the great strength of our own. Their explanation is certainly something near the mark, but for a mouse, how much more germain to the matter is ours--_Lick and gnaw_? It is true, that I may have mistaken the sense of my opponents' language, but even granting them the full latitude of understanding by their words, as applied to our military mouse, that he was _one addicted to licking or conquering_, yet is it by no means so full and expressive as it appears in our exposition. Besides, it must be remembered that _Lichenor_ was not so much "addicted to licking" as to being licked, witness the frog Hypsiboas's running him through the body with a rush. See I. 202.

At v. 244, we have the mouse _Sitophagus_, who like many a soldier of modern times had recourse to his heels and betook himself to a snug dry ditch--ηλατο δ'ες ταφον. I had always some suspicion that this name was particularly corrupted in the last syllable, and the foregoing circumstance has, fortunately for the literary world, furnished me with a conjecture that seems to place the etymology of this coward's title beyond all doubt:--_Set off again_--his invariable custom on these occasions, which was perhaps owing to his having studied the _art militaire_ in Hudibras, where he learnt that

----_Timely running's no mean part Of conduct in the martial art._

_Sitophagus_, from _Set off again_, is perfectly within the canon of _parcè detorta_, which it may not be amiss here to repeat:

"New words are allowable, if they descend," says Horace, "from the English[28] spring, with a sparing distortion."

[28] Anglo _fonte cadent, parcè detorta_.

So Horace doubtless wrote, and thus I always read the passage, correcting the corruption (_Græco_ fonte) which has so long obtained, to the injury of truth and good letters.

I have neither leisure nor inclination to go through the whole of the names of the heroes in Homer's battle of the frogs and mice; nor is it necessary, for it must be apparent to every ingenuous critic that they are _all derived from one source_. Such, however, as occur to me elsewhere, and are thought by many to have very different roots, I shall notice for the purpose of dispelling the clouds of error, and restoring the light of truth.

_Pallas._ This word should be written thus _'Pallas_, with an apostrophe, as in the instance of _'fore_ for _afore_. Its origin then clearly appears. The goddess was so called on account of the Gorgon's head on her shield, that had the power of killing or turning into stone, which was indeed enough to _Appal us_.

In a very singular work, printed in 1611, and entitled _Stafford's Niobe_, I find something like an attempt to prove that the goddess of wisdom acquired the name of _Pallas_ from the _Paleness_ she occasions in her followers. The author's words are simply, "Pallas, whose liverie is paleness," which, if allowed to have any etymological bearing, will, from their date, at once deprive me of all credit for originality in this department of philology. The learned reader is left to decide on this nice point.

_Venus_, from _wean us_, as it is even now elegantly pronounced by many. As the heavenly Venus had that power with the Gods, so has each earthly one with us, namely, to _wean us_ from all other earthly things, and hence the undoubted derivation.

Ἡγεμων, or _Egemon_, with the Greeks, meant a general, and is very evidently borrowed from a vulgar phrase amongst us, most pointedly significant of the office of a general, with respect to his soldiers, viz. to _egg 'em on_. It will be observed, that I have sunk the aspirate, which is a mere vulgarism in the Greek speaker, as in such instances as the following amongst ours, viz. "_Hi ham_" for I am.

_Macrones_, a people on the confines of Colchis, and I should suppose, though Flaccus does not mention it, and I have no leisure to turn to Herodotus, remarkable for their partiality to dress, since the word is clearly an abbreviated pronunciation of _Macaronies_.

_Celsus._ This philosopher composed a treatise against the Christians, which having a good sale, one of the Christians, in a merry mood, said, he _sells us_, and from that moment he bore his present name.

_L. Mummius_, a Roman consul, who acquired his cognomen of _mummius_, or _mummy us_, from being sent against the Achæans, whom he beat most unmercifully.

_Boreas._ This wind was long without a name, until the people feeling 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.