truth, I do very much apprehend, by some of the last winter's
productions, which had their sets of admirers, that our posterity
will in a few years degenerate into a race of punsters: at least, a
man may be very excusable for any apprehensions of this kind, that
has seen acrostics handed about the town with great secresy and
applause; to which I must also add a little epigram called the
"Witches' Prayer," that fell into verse when it was read either
backward or forward, excepting only that it cursed one way, and
blessed the other. When one sees there are actually such
painstakers among our British wits, who can tell what it may end in?
If we must lash one another, let it be with the manly strokes of wit
and satire: for I am of the old philosopher's opinion, that, if I
must suffer from one or the other, I would rather it should be from
the paw of a lion than from the hoof of an ass. I do not speak this
out of any spirit of party. There is a most crying dulness on both
sides. I have seen Tory acrostics and Whig anagrams, and do not
quarrel with either of them because they are Whigs or Tories, but
because they are anagrams and acrostics.

But to return to punning. Having pursued the history of a pun, from
its original to its downfall, I shall here define it to be a conceit
arising from the use of two words that agree in the sound, but
differ in the sense. The only way, therefore, to try a piece of wit
is to translate it into a different language. If it bears the test,
you may pronounce it true; but if it vanishes in the experiment, you
may conclude it to have been a pun. In short, one may say of a pun,
as the countryman described his nightingale, that it is "vox et
praeterea nihil"--"a sound, and nothing but a sound." On the
contrary, one may represent true wit by the description which
Aristaenetus makes of a fine woman:- "When she is dressed she is