WIT, THE SALT OF CONVERSATION.

Dunstan Times, Issue 3378, 13 June 1927, Page 2

WIT, THE SALT OF CONVERSATION.

(By the Marquess of Aberdeen and Temair, K.T. The habit of using epigrams and humorous stories to salt the conversation of everyday life has lately become more general than ever before. It was once considered the exclusive hallmark of poets, writers and exquisites, that they could answer any question with a brilliant quip, or deflect any conversation into the realms of humor : though not infrequently they permitted a rather ungenerous satire to give point to - their remarks. • Nowadays, however, iprobably because of higher educational standards and the growing love of books, and underlying capability for wit, or, least, appreciation of it, seems evident in almost all sorts of conversation.

That is good. While there is laughter in our hearts we can confront life’s adventures with a smile, which is half the conquering thereof. But still we follow too easily the example of those unremembered wags of former years if we are over-ready to raise a laugh with a bantering sally, hoping the laugh will excuse just a little that is spiteful in the epigram. C A really happy epigram is a concise, pointed thought, but the point is that of a foil, not a rapier. It is a thrust in play rather than anger, and no quality of amusement can atone for ridicule or satire, be it ever so slightly intended to wound.

Good taste gives wit a mellow quality like old wine, to be savored appreciatively by the epicure of jests. There can be nothing rough or raw in ideal humor.

There is undoubtedly too often a prevailing notion that humor must necessarily bo flavored by being what the French call “un pen risque.” That is an inexcusable superstition. The most flashing witticism is spoiled by the slightest coarseness in its composition. Such tainted humor might be called, instead of the buttoned foil, the" poisoned rapier of intellect —a most indelicate weapon. It is well for ns to enjoy more laugh! ter. The famous man who said that “an epigram a day keeps the cobwebs away,” possessed an insight into human nature. Moreover, there is more in humor than a toxin against feeling old. Miss Diary Modgkin, in her “A Diary for the Thankful-hearted,” a veritable treasury, writes or quotes: “A laugh is just like sunshine for cheering folks along.” But it must be a spontaneous laugh, ringing cheerily without leservation or doubt.

T may, perhaps (with due Scottish modesty), claim to have circulated a few jokes against my own nationality —indeed, it lias been whimsically said that most of the jokes about Scotsmen are invented by themselves. And it is curious how nations which are joked about are always the first to raise a laugh against themselves. The Irish, whose qualities I learned to understand and appreciate during ten years of official residence it. their coun - try, have constantly been the butt of humor because of their inconsequence, yet they are possessed of a most nimble wit.

1 remember a quaint story illustrating this concerning a laconic Dublin car-driver, who was taking two elderly English ladies round the city. They tried vainly to draw him into facetiousness. When at last he stopped outside their hotel one of the ladies said, “We have often heard that Dublin car drivers say funny things, so we a’’c a bit disappointed with you, but perhaps you are an exception. Can you give me your name?”

To which the jarvey replied without a smile. “Sure miss, that 1 cannot do, for J gave my name to another girl years ago!” Any increase in humor has value in national life. It adds a quality of conciseness to graver thoughts and sayings; it promotes facility of expression. and thus helps to confute the tradition that our language lacks color. And, still bettor, the spirit of laughter bubbles up where previously anger might have preceded a realisation of “the funny side of it.” This will tend towards increased peace and happiness—towards competition,' wherever our tongue is spoken, m the building of finer friendships instead of bigger battleships. For who can resist the laughter-maker

The motto of my own “Silver City by the Sea,” is “Bon Accord,” always translated as—“ Happy to meet, sorry to part, hope to meet again.” 11 might be said of humor and the spreading epigrammatic habit that, after the laughter, the above motto need never fail to hold good. For the nimble play of ,w't against wit should always be in the spirit of “Bon Accord.”