What Is the Difference Between a Misfortune and a Calamity?

Benjamin Disraeli? Prince Jérôme Napoléon? Napoleon III? French Academician? Mr. Snigger? Suffragette? Max O’Rell? Paul Blouët? Apocryphal?

Dear Quote Investigator: The statesman Benjamin Disraeli was famous for his witticisms and barbs. Reportedly he was once asked about the difference in meaning between the words “misfortune” and “calamity”, and he constructed a jest aimed at his political rival William Ewart Gladstone:

Well, if Gladstone fell into the Thames, that would be a misfortune; and if anybody pulled him out, that would be a calamity.

The reference works I examined gave citations in the twentieth century, but Disraeli died in 1881. Is this tale apocryphal?

Quote Investigator: There are many versions of this joke, and it has been circulating and evolving for more than 150 years. For example, the pair of contrasting words has included the following: accident versus malheur; accident versus misfortune; accident versus calamity; mischance versus misfortune; mishap versus misfortune; and misfortune versus calamity.

The hazardous event depicted has varied over time: falling into a pit, a pond, an unnamed river, the Seine, or the Thames. The identity of the endangered individual has also changed: Prince Jérôme Napoléon (also known as Plon-Plon), Napoleon III, the Emperor of the French, Mr. Bright, Sir Bilberry, Mr. Snippson, William Gladstone, or David Lloyd George.

This variability makes tracing the quip difficult. The earliest instance known to QI appeared in May 1861 in the English newspaper “The Leeds Mercury” which suggested that the anecdote originated in France. The target of disdain was Prince Jérôme Napoléon. The tale begins with a discussion between the Prince Imperial and the Emperor of France about synonyms and other closely related words. Boldface has been added to excerpts:^[1] 1861 May 28, The Leeds Mercury, London Correspondence, Quote Page 2, Column 4 and 5, Yorkshire, England. (British Newspaper Archive and Newspapers_com)

. . . the juvenile Imperial blood asked his parent to explain to him the difference between the words “accident” and “misfortune,” which have certainly a little closer affinity in French than English, and seem to require a little elucidation. After a pause for an illustration, His Majesty said, “I will tell you, my boy, the exact difference. It would be an accident if your cousin, Prince Napoleon, were to tumble into the Seine—but it would be a misfortune if any one were to help him out again.“

Here are additional selected citations in chronological order.

In November 1862 the target was Napoleon III who at that time was the Emperor of the French. This version was rendered in French and English:^[2]1862 November 15, The Spectator, Volume 35, Political Power of the French Salons, (From Our Special Correspondent, London, November 12, 1862) Start Page 1273, Quote Page 1273, London, England. … Continue reading

A flash of wit to be recorded amongst the most successful is one for which credit has been given to a French Academician, one of the leaders of the Orleanist party, a quondam Minister of Louis Philippe. Being asked by a lady what was the exact difference between the word accident and the word malheur, he replied immediately:

“Supposons que l’Empereur tombe dans un puits, c’est un accident; supposons que vous l’en retiriez, c’est un malheur.”—“Suppose the Emperor falls into a pit, that’s an accident; suppose you help him out, that’s a misfortune.”

In 1865 a shorter version of the first instance was in circulation. In this instance Napoleon III was not the butt of ridicule he was the humorist:^[3] 1865, Napoleon the Third and his Court by a Retired Diplomatist, Accident and Malheur, Quote Page 253, John Maxwell and Company, London. (Google Books full view) link

The little imperial prince once applied to his father to learn from him the difference between the words accident and malheur.

“My dear son,” the emperor answered, “if our cousin Napoleon, for instance, were to fall into the water, that would be an accident; but if he were fished out again, that would be a malheur.”

The earliest ascription located by QI of the quip to Benjamin Disraeli was printed in 1887, and this was a rather late date. Hence, the citation provided weak support for the Disraeli connection. Details are given further below.

In 1867 the influential London humor magazine “Punch” published a version of the tale. The fictional setting of the dialog below was a dinner party at the home of Sir Bilberry Tunks, a Member of Parliament.^[4] 1867 January 19, Punch, or The London Charivaria, Volume 52, Polite Conversation, Start Page 22, Quote Page 22, Column 2, Published at the Punch Office, London. (Google Books full view) link

Mr. Snigger. … Have you heard this riddle?
Miss Millikins. O no, tell me. I adore riddles.
Mr. Snigger. What is the difference between an accident and a misfortune?
Miss Millikins (eagerly). I don’t know.
Mr. Snigger. I’ll give you an illustration. If Mr. Bright were to fall into a river, that would be an accident.
Miss Millikins. Ah, I don’t understand politics.
Mr. Snigger (aside). Stupid idiot! (To her.) But it isn’t exactly political. It may be anybody. (Sotto voce.) Let us say Sir Bilberry. If he were to fall into a river it would be an accident.
Miss Millikins. Yes.
Mr. Snigger (aside). O, she understands that. (To her.) But if he were to get out again, that would be a misfortune.
Miss Millikins. O, delightful!

The first name mentioned by “Mr. Snigger” was Mr. Bright. This was probably a reference to the prominent politician and orator John Bright who later became President of the Board of Trade in 1868 when William Gladstone was Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

In 1868 “Lippincott’s Magazine” of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania printed an instance that identified the body of water as the Seine:^[5]1868 December, Lippincott’s Magazine of Literature, Science and Education, Volume 2, Our Monthly Gossip, Start Page 670, Quote Page 674, Column 1 and 2, J. B. Lippincott and Co., Philadelphia, … Continue reading

The following anecdote is also current in Paris, illustrative of the well-known ill-feeling existing between the Emperor and his Republican cousin, the Prince Napoleon: The Emperor’s son asked his father to explain the difference between the words accident and malheur. His Majesty replied: “If your cousin should fall into the river Seine, that would be an accident, but if he should be rescued, that would be a malheur.”

In 1869 the version of the story given immediately above was reprinted in “The New Eclectic Magazine” of Baltimore, Maryland. Thus, its dissemination continued and broadened.^[6] 1869 January, The New Eclectic Magazine, Volume 4, Facetiae, Start Page 106, Quote Page 109, Turnbull & Murdoch, Baltimore, Maryland. (Google Books full view) link

In 1871 the jest reappeared in the pages of “Punch” magazine, and no prominent individuals were mentioned:^[7]1871 January 14, Punch, or The London Charivaria, Volume 60, Strawberry Leaves by Sir Horace Mann, Start Page 11, Quote Page 12, Column 1, Published at the Punch Office, London. (Google Books full … Continue reading

I have never been more struck with the merit of the illustration which a husband, asked by his wife what was the difference between an accident and a misfortune, gave the inquiring virago. “Why, my love, if you fell into a river, that would be an accident.” “Yes, well?” “And, my soul, if you got out again, that would be a misfortune.”

In 1873 “Appletons’ Journal” of New York printed an instance that identified the target of the joke using the nickname Plon-Plon:^[8]1873 November 15, Appletons’ Journal, Volume 10, Number 243, Sayings and Doings at Home and Abroad, Start Page 639, Quote Page 639, Column 3, D. Appleton and Company, New York. (Google Books … Continue reading

Speaking of Prince Napoleon—Plon-Plon—a Paris correspondent says, in a recent letter: “The late emperor knew his relative well, as the following answer to his son proves: ‘What is the difference between an accident and a misfortune?’ ‘If,’ replied the emperor, ‘your cousin fell into the Seine, that would be an accident; but if any one pulled him out it would be a misfortune.'”

In 1880 “Judy, Or the London Serio-Comic Journal” and “Donahoe’s Magazine” of Boston, Massachusetts both printed a version of the tale in which a son asked his father a riddle. The father was unable to respond, and the son gave the answer. The object of sarcasm was a tailor named Mr. Snippson:^[9]1880 February 18, Judy, Or the London Serio-Comic Journal, Edited by Chas. H. Ross, Volume 26, Precisely, (Freestanding short item), Quote Page 82, Column 2, Published by the Proprietor at Shoe Lane, … Continue reading^[10]1880 May, Donahoe’s Magazine, Volume 3, Number 5, The Humorist, (Short item), Start Page 506, Quote Page 506, Column 2, T. B. Noonan & Company, Boston, Massachusetts. (Google Books full … Continue reading

“Pa, dear,” asked his son and heir, “tell me what is the difference between an accident and a misfortune?”
“Pa, dear” gave it up.
“Well,” said his son and heir, “if my pressing tailor, Mr. Snippson, were to fall into a deep pond it would be an accident; but if anyone were to pull him out it would be a misfortune.”

In November 1880 the London periodical “Truth” printed an instance of the jest aimed at William Gladstone. The jester was an unnamed Conservative:^[11] 1880 November 4, Truth, Volume 8, Section: Entre Nous, Start Page 565, (Freestanding short item), Quote Page 568, Column 1, Published in Queen Street, London. (Google Books full view) link

A lecturer of Conservative tendencies was recently holding forth on definitions, and he gave several examples. “If,” he said, “Mr. Gladstone were walking near a river, and were to fall in, this would be an accident; if any one were to pull him out of the river, this would be a misfortune.”

In 1883 Max O’Rell (pen name of Léon Paul Blouët) published “John Bull et Son Île” in French.^[12] 1883, John Bull et son île by Max O’Rell (Léon Paul Blouët), Quote Page 39, Calmann Lévy, Éditeur, Paris. (Google Books Full View) link The popular work was translated and published in English the next year under the title “John Bull and His Island”. The quip appeared in the French and English books as follows: ^[13]1884, John Bull and His Island by Max O’Rell (Léon Paul Blouët), (Translated from the French under the supervision of the author), Quote Page 29, Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York. … Continue reading

Si une belle-mère tombe à l’eau, disons-nous encore, c’est un accident; si on la repêche vivante, c’est un malheur.

If your mother-in-law falls overboard, it is an accident; if she is fished out alive, we call it a misfortune.

Benjamin Disraeli died in 1881, and by 1887 the joke had been assigned to him in the pages of “The Dial”, a magazine based in Chicago, Illinois. The identifier Lord Beaconsfield was employed in the following passage because Disraeli was the Earl of Beaconsfield. The contrasting words in the jape were mischance and misfortune:^[14] 1887 January, The Dial, Volume 7, Mexico Ancient and Modern, Start Page 224, Quote Page 225, Column 2, A. C. McClurg & Company, Chicago, Illinois. (Google Books full view) link

The late Lord Beaconsfield was once asked if there was any difference of meaning in the words mischance and misfortune. After a moment’s reflection, the Liberal-hating Tory replied, “I think there is, but I can better illustrate than define it. For instance, if Mr. Gladstone should fall into the Thames, it would be a mischance; but if anyone should pull him out, it would be a misfortune.”

In 1890 another version of the tale was attributed to Disraeli using the contrasting words mishap and misfortune:^[15]1890 April, The Arena, Volume 1, Number 5, Of David’s House by James Realf, Jr., Start Page 577, Quote Page 586, The Arena Publishing Company, Boston, Massachusetts. (Google Books full view) … Continue reading

Of Beaconsfield’s wise wit and easy humor how many anecdotes gather in the memory! He once remarked of Gladstone—”A man without one redeeming vice, sir.” And again, when asked to define the difference between “a mishap and a misfortune” he replied with that suavity which subtilizes sarcasm,—”Oh! there’s nothing more simple; for instance, if Mr. Gladstone should fall into the Thames, that would be a mishap; but, if anybody should fish him out, that would be a misfortune.” (This shaft, by-the-by, has been lately stolen by Max O’Rell and applied to the much-abused “mother-in-law.”)

In 1903 the popular work “Benjamin Disraeli: An Unconventional Biography” by Wilfrid Meynell was released, and it included an instance of the story that was similar to the common modern version given by the questioner:^[16] 1903, Benjamin Disraeli: An Unconventional Biography by Wilfrid Meynell, Quote Page 146, D. Appleton and Company, New York. (Google Books full view) link

“What is the difference between a misfortune and a calamity?”—somebody asked a new definition from Disraeli. The questioner, being no literalist, but a man of liberal understanding, got the reply: “Well, if Gladstone fell into the Thames, that would be a misfortune; and if anybody pulled him out, that, I suppose, would be a calamity!”

When Wilfrid Meynell’s book was reviewed in “The House Beautiful” magazine of New York the anecdote was deemed noteworthy enough to recount.^[17] 1903 May, The House Beautiful, Volume 13, (Advertising section), Quote Page xxxvi, Column 2, Hearst Corp., New York. (Google Books full view) link The story was also reprinted in the book review section of “The Caledonian” periodical of New York.^[18]1904 January, The Caledonian, Volume 3, Number 9, Section: Book Reviews, (Review of Wilfrid Meynell’s biography of Benjamin Disraeli), Start Page 437, Quote Page 438, Caledonian Publishing … Continue reading

In 1913 a publication of the Theta Delta Chi Fraternity in Massachusetts called “The Shield” printed a variant featuring suffragettes and the British politician David Lloyd George:^[19]1913 April, The Shield, Volume 29, Number 2, The Banquet of the 65th Annual Convention, Speech by Rudolf Tombo, Jr., Start Page 91, Quote Page 92, (Official Publication of the Theta Delta Chi … Continue reading

I do not know whether that was accidental or not, but it brings to mind the story that is told of several suffragettes who met on one occasion and referred to Lloyd George in the following way: One asked the other what the difference was between an accident and a calamity, and the other replied, “You see, it is this way, if Lloyd George, on leaving the House of Commons, would walk over the Westminster Bridge and looking over the bridge, lose his balance and fall into the Thames, that would be an accident, but if anyone should fish him out, that would be a calamity.”

H. L. Mencken included the anecdote in his benchmark compendium “A New Dictionary of Quotations on Historical Principles from Ancient and Modern Sources”. Mencken suggested a date of 1867, but he provided no supporting citation:^[20]1942, A New Dictionary of Quotations on Historical Principles from Ancient and Modern Sources, Selected and Edited by H. L. Mencken (Henry Louis Mencken), Section: W. E. Gladstone, Quote Page 458, … Continue reading

If Gladstone fell in the Thames, that would be a misfortune. But if someone fished him out again, that would be a calamity.

Ascribed to BENJAMIN DISRAELI, c. 1867 (Similar sayings have been levelled at many other statesmen since)

In conclusion, based on current evidence this joke template originated in France. “The Leeds Mercury” and “Punch” were loci for its popularization in the United Kingdom. The variability of the tale suggests to QI that deliberate modifications were made to conform to current events and to the political preferences of the teller.

It is conceivable that Disraeli told this joke about Gladstone but the supporting evidence is weak, and he would have been employing an existing template.

Image notes: Benjamin Disraeli painted by Francis Grant in 1852 from Wikipedia. Portrait of Napoleon III by Franz Xaver Winterhalter from Wikimedia. Westminster and Thames by Alan at Pixabay. Cropped public domain images.

(Special thanks to Louise Hope who pointed to the instance written by Paul Blouët whose pen name was Max O’Rell. Great thanks to researcher Barry Popik who found a citation in the “Chicago Tribune” on June 26, 1861 which led QI to locate a very similar text in “The Leeds Mercury” on May 28, 1861.)

Update History: On August 22, 2018 the citation dated May 28, 1861 was added to the article, and the text was updated.