Up to snuff?
Japanese snuff bottle, circa 1900
Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Snuff is tobacco in powdered form designed to be sniffed into the nose.
If someone is said to be ‘up to snuff’ it means they are considered capable, knowing, astute. It is a phrase that has been in use since the 19th century.
Snuff comes in many guises. Some is pure ‘fine’ snuff made from a blend of tobacco leaves. Other snuffs have scents or flavours added, like coffee, orange or whisky. Individual customers may have snuff prepared to their own requirements.
The apparatus associated with snuff is collectable and includes snuff boxes made from a variety of materials, some valuable and intricate, small spoons, and bottles. It is important to keep snuff dry in airtight containers.
Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
My prejudice against snuff stems from my mother remarking that it was a dirty habit. I suppose she must have known people who took snuff. I have only ever met one snuff sniffer, once, a very long time ago.
A more up-to-date expression is ‘up to scratch’. It derives from bare-knuckle boxing which differed from street fighting in that it was governed by a set of rules. At the beginning of each round opponents would be required to stand with their toes against a line scratched in the ground, to ‘start from scratch’. Any boxer not able to do so was considered defeated. After a knockdown a boxer had eight seconds to make his way unaided to a cross in the centre of the ring. If he failed, he was not allowed to continue.
Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Bare-knuckle fighting originated in 17th century England. Though most competitors were male, some females also took part. By the late 19th century bare-knuckle fighting had given way to fighting with boxing gloves. However, there has been a resurgence of bare-knuckle boxing in the 21st century. It is not a pretty sport.
Post script: I really hated writing this post, particularly the section about snuff, but I had started it and felt I must finish. Perhaps you have hated reading it . . .
