Let’s sniff out the origins of ‘up to snuff’

Let me begin by stating that this column is nothing to sneeze at.

This is getting to be a habit.

There I was sitting down to Asian cuisine when a friend asked “Jim, where did ‘up-tosnuff’ come from?”

Now when people ask me questions (as often happens) I always have an answer. Sometimes I know and provide a quick answer. Other times I may just say “I don’t know,” which is an answer that typically induces me to find the answer and then respond in a column.

Such is the case now; although I did come up with a response that was remarkably close to the result of my research.

This particular query doesn’t have just one answer however. So, after I finished my shumai I returned to my books.

Let’s begin with an accepted definition.

“Up to snuff” describing a person would suggest an individual in great condition both physically and mentally. Thus, we’re talking about a person, place or thing (a noun) that is certainly more than just acceptable.

Likewise, “not up to snuff” would infer less than acceptable.

One etymologist (word guy) must have been a countryman. He alludes that the phrase has little to do with tobacco; others include tobacco in their explanations of origin. This “expert” contends that “snuff” is an Anglicized form of the Norwegian adjective “snu.”

“Snu” means “cunning, crafty or shrewd” in Norsky talk.

The Norwegian word for “snuff” is “snuus” and the two words are so similar that they were confused with each other.

So, while the meanings are different “Up to snu” has a certain mystique to it.

Here’s another take on the phrase. It was first used to describe a person’s physical condition and the sense of smell is perhaps most sensitive. If so, then a person who was “up to snuff” was able to sniff or smell, suggesting overall physical conditioning.

Moving right along (or back in time), during the 17th century Europeans developed a

passion for finely powdered tobacco — blame this (and lung cancer, heart disease, et al.) on Sir Walter Raleigh (he of the wet cloak).

In particular the English became afflicted (addicted) with the use of snuff.

Many of the elite users grated their snuff stuff on the spot. They carried their own graters and spoons attached to boxes containing the coarse tobacco.

I would personally find this repulsive, so it’s good I was born in a later century; my parents’ smoking was bad enough.

This elite group prided themselves on their ability to distinguish between grades of snuff (really?). Therefore, one who didn’t have this unique ability was also judged as “not up to snuff.”

The phrase had entered the British lexicon as evidenced in John Poole’s spoof of “Hamlet” in his “Hamlet Travestie: In Three Acts” (1810). If you remember your “Hamlet,” (and who doesn’t) Guildenstern and Rosencrantz were sent to spy on Hamlet by the King. They observed him behaving unusually and (in the spoof) returned to tell the King “He won’t be sounded; he knows well enough/ The game we’re after: Zooks, he’s up to snuff.”

Poole argues that “up to snuff” was referring to Hamlet’s ability to sniff out Rosencrantz and Guildenstern’s ulterior motive. Well, that was enough to earn a mention of the phrase in the 1823 “Classic Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue,” echoing Poole’s understanding of it.

Merriam-webster followed suit in the 1864 dictionary.

“Snuffling” continued in the colonies but I have known no one in my eight decades who has used snuff in its original purpose, though I have known a few individuals in my former gainful employment who were not “up to snuff” in their roles.

This takes us back to the original question posed to me. I presume my research and column response is “up to snuff.”