Charles Molloy Westmacott
The Punster's Pocket-book / or, the Art of Punning Enlarged by Bernard Blackmantle, illustrated with numerous original designs by Robert Cruikshank
A WORD TO THE WITTY AND THE WISE
Wit led the way – with sportive jest,Next, Humour, most fantastic drest;The Graces, eldest of the Nine,Followed – collecting from each shrine,Where Genius shed a ray of light,Which might improve, instruct, delight.Messieurs the Punsters,
I may with great propriety contend, that under such merry designation, I am addressing a very large portion of the British public. If, beneath your patronage, this little work should prove as successful as the flattering anticipations of some friendly adepts in the art of punning have induced me to expect, it is my intention to collect and publish, annually, all the choicest Morceaux and Vagaries relating to punning that can be obtained from the wits and witty works of our own times: for which purpose I solicit communications of original Puns and Epigrams, directed to my Publishers. In arranging the present work, I have endeavoured to bring together all that was important to a proper understanding of the Merry Art; to which are annexed examples by the most celebrated Punsters of their day; many of which now, for the first time, appear in print. Illustrated by fourteen original and appropriate designs, from that mirth-inspiring graphic humourist, Robert Cruikshank.
For mine own whims, scattered here and there through the work, they will, I have no doubt, be easily discovered, by their very humble pretensions to any right of admission into the phalanx of great names in whose company they are now associated. But, Wits and Critics, as ye are powerful, be merciful; and remember, that taste and industry for such a task are the great requisites of a compiler, and that it is not essentially necessary for a good collector to be a great artist.
BERNARD BLACKMANTLE,Author of the English Spy, Editor of The Spirit of the Public Journals, &c. &c.Explanation of the Emblematic Border to the Portrait of the King, containing an Epitome of British Sovereignty.
The Genius of Ancient Britain is represented by a Druidical head encircled by a wreath of oak; the face is partly hidden behind the blazonry of modern achievement. The head, supported by the Roman eagle and the Saxon horse, is inclosed in the involutions of the scroll which proceeds from it, and which next embraces the devouring eagle of Scandinavia, and the warlike lion of Normandy. Following these are emblems of the contests of the houses of York and Lancaster, surrounded by the rival roses. The Scriptures opened are appropriate to the Tudor family; and their national emblem, the thistle, is considered most emblematical of the Stuart race. A lion, with the cap of liberty, denotes the benefits England has derived from their successors, the Prince of Orange; and the unicorn chained to the scroll is indicative of Hanover attached to the sovereignty of Great Britain. The imperial crown of Charlemagne, which surmounts Brunswick, is nearly obscured and lost behind the crown and sceptre of a British sovereign, George the Fourth,
WHOM GOD PRESERVEPROLEGOMENA ON PUNNING
RESPECTFULLY ADDRESSEDTO PUNSTERS IN GENERALLITERARY FIREWORKSWhat are Puns, and Jests, and Quirks?But Literary Fireworks.Here are squibs for dull November;Crackers, too, for gay December;Rockets, charged with wit and fun;Wild-fires made to touch and run;Blue-lights from the Em'rald Isle;British-balls, to chase the bile;Roman fires, and jeux d'esprits;From Vatican, and Thuilleries;And here's Blackmantle – punning elf —To personate Guy Vaux himself.It will doubtless be the opinion of many a reader that a Prefatory Essay on such a subject as Punning can possess little of interest, and nothing of novelty. I would, however, request any one entertaining this idea to suspend his judgment till he has given the matter ampler consideration.
In addressing these preliminary remarks to punsters in general, I think I have taken effectual means to render them of universal interest. When a certain author, who had dedicated one of his volumes "to those who think," was charged with want of judgment in catering for such a limited number of individuals, he justified his discernment by observing, that, however little numerous the body of thinking people might be, every reader would at least rank himself in that class. Our question can stand on much broader ground; for we assert, without fear of contradiction, that of the many judicious persons who, without doubt, will peruse and patronise these pages, not one will be found who is not only, se judice, a punster, but who has not, probably "many a time and oft," exhibited among his boon companions whatever portion of talent he may possess in that line of wit. It has been asked by a well-known writer, "Did any man of liberal education ever go through his teens without perpetrating the crime of making verses?" I am contented to wave the narrow distinction, by which uneducated persons would be excepted, and, with respect to the nobler and far more generally diffused art of punning, would inquire, Does any one, whatever be his rank or attainments, reach his twentieth year, without (we will not speak so inaccurately as to say, perpetrating the crime, but) contributing one or more puns to the common stock? Certainly not. What the ancients rather hyperbolically asserted of writing (for the many, who were uninstructed in the mechanical part of that art, could not by possibility have exercised it), Scribimus indocti doctique, is literally true as applied to punning: lettered and unlettered, all alike pun away. From the humble son of Crispin, who, having nothing but one of his sutorial weapons at hand wherewith to despatch his cotelette de bœuf, remarked that his all was at stake, to the gifted Sheridan, who discovered that Doctors' Commons was the greatest thoroughfare in England, in virtue of the old adage, "where there is a WILL there is a WAY," each man sports his calembourg.
Still, as it frequently happens that what is most generally practised, is far from being best understood, so is it with punning. It has been too much the case to treat it with levity and inconsiderateness; to regard it as mere trifling; to view it at best as a feeble missile from the armoury of wit, only adapted for the "puny (query punny?) whipster," and which those who are qualified to wield more valuable weapons would scarcely deign to employ. I trust that, in the course of these introductory observations, I shall effectually dispel all such erroneous prejudices, and shall satisfactorily assert the true dignity of the art, so that my readers may join with me in exclaiming, and may perceive, that it is not only venerable from its antiquity, and supported by the authority of persons of taste and learning, who have invariably cultivated it, but is likewise highly beneficial to the bodily health, moral feeling, and intellectual improvement of the community.
"Punica se quantis attollet gloria rebus!"With respect to its antiquity, we find it treated of by the most eminent writers upon rhetoric among the ancients, who not only class it among the beauties of language, but have stamped it with the dignity of a distinct figure of speech, assigning to it an appropriate name. I make no observations upon the injudicious attempts of some modern commentators to ally it to the paranomasia, it being evidently the antanaclasis of the rhetoricians. The great Aristotle (Rhet. ch. 11.) enumerates two or three different species of παραγραμματα, the name he gives to puns, in his remarks upon this figure, and cites examples of each kind, with expressions of commendation, from some of the most celebrated Greek authors. In Cicero's treatise on Oratory, a variety of instances of the antanaclasis are quoted, and highly praised by him for their wit. His own puns, with which his works abound, are more distinguished for their number than their excellence: humour does not appear to have been his forte, but his frequent attempts at punning sufficiently evince the high estimation in which it was held by himself and his contemporaries. The ancient poets, strange as it may appear, were not, in general, adepts in this art, if we except Aristophanes among the Greeks, and Ovid and Martial among the Latins. From the two last mentioned writers (the former of whom indeed would readily furnish a cento of puns) I beg leave to select two examples. The one is where Ovid makes Leander say, "Posito cum veste timore;" the other is the well-known epigram by Martial on the emperor Nero:
"Quis negat Æneæ natum de stirpe Neronem?Sustulit hic matrem, Sustulit ille patrem."I adduce these examples, because Addison, after erroneously defining a pun to be merely "a conceit arising from the use of two words that agree in the sound, but differ in the sense," goes on to inform us that if translated into a different language, it will vanish in the experiment; in fact he would represent it as vox et præterea nihil, a sound, and nothing but a sound. Unquestionably there are a multitude of puns that might answer this description, but it is far from being applicable to all. In the two instances I have just brought forward, the words posito and sustulit can be exactly translated into English, and both the sense and the pun retained. The truth is, that Addison, like many more who have thought proper to be very severe on the talents of the punning fraternity, was evidently not very accurately acquainted with the nature of what he was attacking.
If the plea of antiquity can thus be justly advanced in favour of punning, the continued adherence of all nations in all periods to the practice, may likewise with reason be urged in its support. Nor are its ramifications of slight importance. It may be considered as the origin of technical terms, most of which, if properly analysed, will prove to be virtual puns or conundrums; as the parent of double entendre of every description; and even as containing the germs of that slang formerly confined to the lower walks of life, but, in our more enlightened days, emulously studied even among the Corinthian pillars of polished society.
The number of final letters, which among the French are mere ciphers in pronunciation, has always given them a decided advantage in puns of mere words over every other nation. Their writings and conversation are alike replete with them; but they are almost invariably of that kind alluded to by Addison, which are lost if clothed in any but their native dress. Indeed this is almost a necessary consequence of the very circumstance already alluded to, which ensures them such superior facility in the production of puns. A brace of these I shall present my readers with, both as exhibiting a strong confirmation of what I have above said, and as being of modern date, and, in my opinion, of sterling excellence. The first of these is the reply made by a Parisian wit, to a person who asked him what was the true distinction between a flea and a louse. He answered that they were only disciples of different philosophers: the lice being followers of Epictetus (des pique-têles), and the fleas of Epicurus (des piqueurs). The other is an epigram, much talked off at the time of its appearance in the French metropolis, written by some wag, under a picture of Louis XVIII. painted by Le Gros, and placed in one of the public exhibitions. The striking resemblance of the head and neck of that monarch to those of a rabbit is well known; and of this circumstance the malicious epigrammatist thus happily avails himself in the pasquinade referred to:
Le Gros l'a peint! (le gros lapin!)
Le Gros l'a peint!
Notre bon souverain.
De la peinture admirez la magie:
Tout le monde à la fois s'écrie,
Le Gros l'a peint!
Le Gros l'a peint!
As I have assumed the privilege in these remarks of being as desultory and digressive as I please, I shall here notice what I term macaroni punning, effected by a fictitious mélange of different languages. Sometimes this will arise from the inspection of a single word. Who, for instance, can forbear smiling at the curious orthoepical coincidence by which an accommodating fair one is in Latin designated meretrix? This, however, is the simplest effort of the macaroni class, and far from implying that ingenuity visible in higher flights of the same kind, which are frequently conspicuous for their wit and pithiness. Lord Erskine's inscription on his tea chest, Tu doces, is of great merit in its way. Lord Norbury, I believe, has the reputation of having observed, upon seeing some young fellow vain of his personal attractions almost in tears at contemplating the manner in which the nocturnal attacks of a band of jumpers had disfigured his face, "Fle-bit, he will weep." His countryman Curran's reply to his rival counsel Egan, will not easily be forgotten. The latter, coming out of court, and observing on Curran's coat a certain disgrace to the poll, addressed him in the words of Virgil:
"Dic mihi, Damœta, cujum pecus? an Melibœi?"Curran immediately replied by completing the passage:
"Non, verum Ægonis: nuper mihi tradidit Ægon."Probably, however, Swift's impromptu quotation on seeing a Cremona violin swept off a table by a lady's mantua:
"Mantua, væ! miseræ nimium vicina Cremonæ,"will always stand at the head of puns of this class.
I own that I am particularly delighted with a good macaroni pun. It necessarily implies, not only superior wit, but a considerable fund of learning, on the part of the punster. And what is still better, it shows that this learning is free from the rust of pedantry, tending to enliven those around him, and not to create in him a repulsive conceit, and a haughty estrangement from society. His candle is not hidden under a bushel, but freely and cheerfully dispenses its light: His treasure is not kept in the form of useless hoarded bullion, but is converted into a valuable circulating medium, the coin being liberally and extensively distributed by its owner.
The inmates of universities have usually been remarked for their attachment to punning. The men of Cambridge, in particular, have ever, from their foundation, been distinguished by their excellence as paragrammatists. It surely not a little exalts this noble art, that those who have enjoyed peculiar opportunities of justly appreciating every thing connected both with abstruse and polite literature, should have sedulously cultivated it. And I think I may be allowed to say, in contradiction to the reiterated attempts of prejudice and stupidity to undervalue it, that I never met with a person incapable of some degree of excellence in punning, who was remarkable for any species of wit above the practical jokes of a merry-andrew.
But it is not only on its high antiquity, its extensive diffusion, or the distinguished authorities that can be adduced in support of it, that the claims of punning are founded. The philosopher who defined man to be το ζωον γελων, certainly selected the only characteristic besides that of speech, which particularly and exclusively distinguishes man from the brute creation.
"'Twas said of old, deny it now who can,The only laughing animal is man.The bear may leap, its lumpish cubs in view,Or sportive cat her circling tail pursue;The grin deep-lengthen pug's half-human face,Or prick'd up ear confess the simp'ring ass:In awkward gestures awkward mirth be shown,Yet, spite of gesture, man still laughs alone."Now to the exercise of this high and distinguished prerogative of our nature, what is a more certain stimulant than a pun? If it be good, you laugh at the pun; if bad, at the punster; and in either case, he is almost certain to laugh himself. Moreover, the punster is one of all others, "quem jocus risusque circumvolat;" not only witty himself, but the cause of wit in others; for it is rarely, indeed, in the social circle, that one pun is not the signal for a series of others. The cards are generally played after the first is led, till the suit is fairly out.
But laughter is not only one of the principal faculties which distinguish man from inferior animals; it likewise contributes greatly to the promotion and preservation of health. "Laugh and grow fat," is a very old and a very wise adage.
And observe, the fat which thus increaseth the ribs is wholesome, good, firm fat, bearing no resemblance whatever to the adipose envelope of the bloated and corpulent. Those who are clothed with laughter-begotten fat are, moreover, in general, of humour frank and free, cordial, cheerful, and enterprising; as dissimilar to the indolent, arthritic, or the selfish gourmand, as to the cadaverous, saturnine, acetous beings who stalk about like so many skeletons, galvanised into temporary motion, and presenting a memento mori to all they meet. And if such be the genial, the beneficial, effects of laughter, can we laud too highly the practice of punning, that most apt and prompt instrument of promoting it?
In another point of view, too, this art doth not a little contribute to the advancement and improvement of moral feeling. How often have the asperities incident to conversation been instantly softened down by the means of a well-timed pun? How many a rising storm of colloquial debate and controversial wrath has been dispelled by the same salutary agency, when wisdom would have failed to convince, or mediation to conciliate? The able punster has perhaps more frequent opportunities than any other character, of securing the blessing pronounced upon the peace-maker.
The pious Dr. Watts, in his Introduction to Logic, has commented on the moral as well as literary evils arising from the number of equivocal and the comparative paucity of univocal words. Now the knowledge of a disease being half its cure, who is so likely to be exempt from the evils arising from the above-mentioned sources as the punster? Every fresh touch of his art may be considered as a discovery of some more of these dangerous equivocals, and indeed his whole life may be regarded as a philanthropic voyage in quest of them, combining the double advantage of exciting mirth by their timely production, and affording a salutary warning to the hearer against the employment of such Proteus terms in grave and serious discussion. Thus again we see the paragrammatist enabled to contribute in a high degree to the social enjoyment, literary improvement, and moral amelioration of his fellow creatures.
If wit consists principally, as the first of modern philosophers has affirmed, in the unexpected association of ideas apparently far removed in their nature from each other, punning must, in its very essence, claim to rank in the highest class of wit. And how must the frequent exercise of searching for such associations, and bringing them however recondite to light, sharpen the intellect of the individual engaged in it! We have already adverted to the general practice of this art among the members of our universities; we may likewise observe that the learned body of the law, a body distinguished perhaps beyond any other for their superior shrewdness, and extent of general information, are universally partial to it. The barrister who pleads, and the judge who directs, are alike ambitious to display their excellence in this highly prized art; and justice herself, though for the sake of her character she must needs be blind, is rarely found deaf to the sallies of the punster.
Ohe! jam satis est. Sufficient, we are persuaded, has been said to satisfy all persons of the value and excellence of punning, except indeed the obstinately incredulous; and such, as a just punishment, we would excommunicate for ever from the enjoyment of puns, and the society of punsters. Can we pronounce a severer doom?
But as the best of things are the most liable to abuses, so has the cause of punning suffered much from the want of judgment evinced by many of its votaries. Anxious, as far as possible, to contribute to maintaining this noble art in the possession of its well-merited reputation, we venture a few words of caution to some of its professors on the errors too frequently committed by them.
Imprimis, a pun, like an epigram, is worth little indeed if the point can be anticipated. Hence proper names, though they have in some few instances been successfully worked upon, are in general bad materials for the punster. The attempt to pun upon Black, White, Green, Brown, Scott, England, and id genus omne, if productive of any laughter, is of that only which is excited by the imbecility and empty pretensions of him who makes it. In justice to our contemporary John Bull, we must observe that on this very dangerous ground, he is almost the only person who has had the singular felicity of uniformly appearing with success.
For the same reason that we object to proper names, we need scarcely observe that all trite puns are detestable. There are a number of words, such as heart, love, soul, last, grave, and a host of others, that have been fairly worn thread-bare in the service. Let him whose wit is not competent to discover some other sources than these hackneyed ones, be a listener, but by no means a speaker in a circle of punsters. Decies repetita placebit, however just it may be as the criterion of merit in a poem, will never do for a pun, one of whose chief excellencies is novelty, – nay, which often, however rich at the moment of its utterance, will not successfully admit of repetition, even to those who have never before heard it, at another time and under different circumstances.
A pun can rarely be considered very good, which involves a difference of orthography. It appears like a descent from its true dignity to the level of a common conundrum.
Lastly, let every punster bear in mind, that punning is only the sauce of conversation, and that he who thinks to entertain by introducing it continually into his discourse, resembles a man who should present me with a dish of Cayenne pepper alone by way of a meal. It may likewise be observed, that what is usually called an inveterate, is never a good punster. The constant desire of display, by accustoming himself to be contented with mediocrity, or something below it, almost disqualifies him from uttering any thing above it. We may say with justice, "a pun spoken in good season, how good is it!" Time, and place, and persons too, must be regarded. The punster, while he enlivens conversation, is one of the greatest acquisitions to a company; when he only interrupts it, he is one of its greatest nuisances. Much more could we add concerning both the theory and practice of this art, but we would not willingly become tedious. Gentle reader, whosoever thou art, receive in good part what we have here written; imbue thyself with such a love of punning, and such a sense of its dignity, that thy efforts may exalt and not degrade it: so shalt thou merit the good wish which, with a sincere heart, we now bestow upon thee: Mayest thou become one of the warmest admirers of punning, and shine as one of the first of punsters!
BERNARD BLACKMANTLETHE ORIGIN OF PUNNING: FROM PLATO'S SYMPOSIACKS
BY DR. SHERIDANOnce on a time in merry mood,Jove made a Pun of flesh and blood:A double two-faced living creature,Androgynos, of two-fold nature,For back to back with single skinHe bound the male and female in;So much alike, so near the same,They stuck as closely as their name.Whatever words the male exprest,The female turn'd them to a jest;Whatever words the female spoke,The male converted to a joke:So, in this form of man and wifeThey led a merry punning life.The gods from heaven descend to earth,Drawn down by their alluring mirth;So well they seem'd to like the sport,Jove could not get them back to court.Th' infernal gods ascend as well,Drawn up by magic puns from hell.Judges and furies quit their post,And not a soul to mind a ghost.'Heyday!' says Jove: says Pluto too,'I think the Devil's here to do;Here's hell broke loose, and heaven's quite empty;We scarce have left one god in twenty.Pray what has set them all a-running? —'Dear brother, nothing else but punning.Behold that double creature yonderDelights them with a double entendre.''Odds-fish,' says Pluto, 'where's your thunder?Let's drive, and split this thing asunder!''That's right,' quoth Jove; with that he threwA bolt, and split it into two;And when the thing was split in twain,Why then it punn'd as much again.''Tis thus the diamonds we refine,The more we cut, the more they shine;And ever since your men of wit,Until they're cut, can't pun a bit.So take a starling when 'tis young,And down the middle slit the tongue,With groat or sixpence, 'tis no matter,You'll find the bird will doubly chatter.'Upon the whole, dear Pluto, you know,'Tis well I did not slit my Juno!For, had I done't, whene'er she'd scold me,She'd make the heavens too hot to hold me.'The gods, upon this application,Return'd each to his habitation,Extremely pleas'd with this new joke;The best, they swore, he ever spoke.