“Cheers!” is known as a version of “Thank you!” found in British slang. I never use it myself, because I don’t do slang. I heard it first at school, when a future minor novelist asked a standing classmate to put something in his locker, then stuck up a thumb and said “Cheers, Paul!”. I’ve never been able to reconcile myself to the usage, because the logic of it escaped me. All the same, I’ve been putting my mind recently into working out how iy came into existence.
Since “Cheers!” is also a toast, as in the title of the American sitcom, the place to start is the ancient ritual of “libation”, when liquid was spilled onto the ground as a form of sacrifice to the gods, accompanied by a prayer. The practice of “toasting” must have developed from that ritual. The difference is that the liquid is drunk instead of being spilled. Less wasteful. The common factor is the accompanying prayer. This is most obvious in the case of a formal toast, as at a wedding reception, when the master of ceremonies might ask the guests to be upstanding and drink a toast to (i.e. praying for) the couple’s future health and happiness.
In a British pub, the normal setting for an informal toast is the gathering of a group of friends, when they meet or when somebody else joins them. Raising their glasses, ready to take the first sip of the evening, they will offer prayers for each other’s wellbeing; “Good luck!” “Here’s to you!” “Your very good health, sir!” “And yours!” That is the ritual. My new theory on the clinking of glasses is that it helps to ensure that the benefits of these “blessings” get passed on by contact to the speaker’s companions. I think Sir James Frazier would call it “contagious magic”.
In modern times, the wording has got more diverse. Evidently some people were getting tired of the old phrases, but they still felt bound by a social obligation to say something on taking the first sip. By the time of the Second World War, Evelyn Waugh’s characters were being bemused by novelties like “Here’s how!” Or it might be “Here’s mud in your eye!”. When I was working in Scotland one summer, a colleague would exclaim “Here’s the skin off your Christmas!”. This was explained, but I won’t repeat the explanation. Alternatively the “wish for well-being” might disappear altogether, being replaced by a simple comment on the act of drinking; “Bottoms up!” “Down the hatch!” “First tonight!”
How did “Cheers!” get onto this list. I think we have to go back to the First World War. Doing research for a dissertation, I was reading through copies of the Primitive Methodist Leader of that time. Its columns included reports from the denomination’s army chaplains on the front line. In one of the reports, a chaplain described how he had encouraged soldiers moving up in preparation for an attack by greeting each one of them with “Cheery-oh!”. This was rather startling, because I know “Cheerio!” as a light-hearted informal farewell, the kind of thing you might shout on the departure of family visitors. Then I looked again at the spelling and realised that he must have meant it in the sense “Keep cheerful!” “Keep your spirits up!” “Good luck!” That would explain “Cheerio!” as a toast a generation later (see Evelyn Waugh again), which leads into the shorter version “Cheers!”.
I think that gives me the explanation of “Cheers!” as an expression of thanks. I’m going to interpret it as a kind of drink-less toast, with the uplifted thumb which I noticed taking the place of the raised glass. I suggest that “Cheers!” as a way of saying “Thank you” means “If I had a glass in my hand, I would offer a toast for your good health in return for the favour you’ve done me.”
This is all guesswork, of course, but if you think you can find a better explanation you are welcome to try.
Since “Cheers!” is also a toast, as in the title of the American sitcom, the place to start is the ancient ritual of “libation”, when liquid was spilled onto the ground as a form of sacrifice to the gods, accompanied by a prayer. The practice of “toasting” must have developed from that ritual. The difference is that the liquid is drunk instead of being spilled. Less wasteful. The common factor is the accompanying prayer. This is most obvious in the case of a formal toast, as at a wedding reception, when the master of ceremonies might ask the guests to be upstanding and drink a toast to (i.e. praying for) the couple’s future health and happiness.
In a British pub, the normal setting for an informal toast is the gathering of a group of friends, when they meet or when somebody else joins them. Raising their glasses, ready to take the first sip of the evening, they will offer prayers for each other’s wellbeing; “Good luck!” “Here’s to you!” “Your very good health, sir!” “And yours!” That is the ritual. My new theory on the clinking of glasses is that it helps to ensure that the benefits of these “blessings” get passed on by contact to the speaker’s companions. I think Sir James Frazier would call it “contagious magic”.
In modern times, the wording has got more diverse. Evidently some people were getting tired of the old phrases, but they still felt bound by a social obligation to say something on taking the first sip. By the time of the Second World War, Evelyn Waugh’s characters were being bemused by novelties like “Here’s how!” Or it might be “Here’s mud in your eye!”. When I was working in Scotland one summer, a colleague would exclaim “Here’s the skin off your Christmas!”. This was explained, but I won’t repeat the explanation. Alternatively the “wish for well-being” might disappear altogether, being replaced by a simple comment on the act of drinking; “Bottoms up!” “Down the hatch!” “First tonight!”
How did “Cheers!” get onto this list. I think we have to go back to the First World War. Doing research for a dissertation, I was reading through copies of the Primitive Methodist Leader of that time. Its columns included reports from the denomination’s army chaplains on the front line. In one of the reports, a chaplain described how he had encouraged soldiers moving up in preparation for an attack by greeting each one of them with “Cheery-oh!”. This was rather startling, because I know “Cheerio!” as a light-hearted informal farewell, the kind of thing you might shout on the departure of family visitors. Then I looked again at the spelling and realised that he must have meant it in the sense “Keep cheerful!” “Keep your spirits up!” “Good luck!” That would explain “Cheerio!” as a toast a generation later (see Evelyn Waugh again), which leads into the shorter version “Cheers!”.
I think that gives me the explanation of “Cheers!” as an expression of thanks. I’m going to interpret it as a kind of drink-less toast, with the uplifted thumb which I noticed taking the place of the raised glass. I suggest that “Cheers!” as a way of saying “Thank you” means “If I had a glass in my hand, I would offer a toast for your good health in return for the favour you’ve done me.”
This is all guesswork, of course, but if you think you can find a better explanation you are welcome to try.