Proverb Lore Part 10

[119:A] As, for instance, "The Oji Language, with a Collection of Native Proverbs," by the Rev. H. N. Riis. The sketch of the Akra language by the Rev. J. Zimmerman, of the Efik language by the Rev. Hugh Goldie, of the Yoruba by the Rev. J. Bowen, all give many examples of proverbs.

[120:A] The Italians say, "Piuma a piuma se pela l'occha," feather by feather the goose was stripped.

[120:B] This recurs in the French, "Pet.i.t a pet.i.t l'oiseau fait son nid."

CHAPTER V

Proverbs that are misunderstood -- The Cheese -- Raining Cats and Dogs -- Cattle-harrying -- The Bitter End -- By Hook or Crook -- Proverbs of Evil Teaching -- Necessity has no Law -- The Peck of Dirt -- Howl with the Wolves -- Sarcasm in Proverbs -- The Fool -- Selfishness -- The Praise of Truth -- The Value of Time -- Death -- The Conduct of Life -- Occupations that supply Proverbs -- The Barber, Tailor, Cobbler, Physician, Lawyer, and others -- The Cowl and the Monk -- The Long Bow -- The Meditative Angler -- Sayings a.s.sociated with particular Individuals -- Hobson and his Choice -- Plowden's Law -- Mortimer's Bow -- The Wisdom of Doddipol -- The Fear of Mrs Grundy's Opinion -- Locality Proverbs -- Rustic Humour -- Local Products -- Tenterden Steeple.

Though in the great majority of cases the significance of a proverb is more or less apparent on consideration, and when discovered is more or less helpful to the conduct of life, we from time to time encounter adages that have achieved some considerable popularity and yet are quite misunderstood, or are entirely unsound in teaching. Comparatively few proverbs reach the highest plane; they are mostly content to supply good work-a-day maxims for a man's prosperity and easy pa.s.sage through this life, but occasionally self-interest is carried to a point where principle is lost sight of, and the result is wholly evil.

The proverbs that are misunderstood are ordinarily sound enough in their teaching, and are freely used by all--a meaning, not the correct one, having been tacked on to them and found to be a good working one. This is a philological principle that we meet with in all directions.

Asparagus, for instance, is so called from the Greek word to tear, many of the species being armed with spines that lacerate,[125:A] but the costermonger knows nothing of this, so he drops the word that has no meaning to him and calls it sparrow-gra.s.s, a much more meaningless word really. A somewhat common expression amongst a certain cla.s.s is "That's the ticket," meaning "that is the proper course to pursue." Why it should carry this significance is not on the face of it obvious, but the whole matter is cleared up when we find that it is a corruption of "C'est l'etiquette." Another popular expression of approval takes the form of "That's the cheese." Familiarity makes such an expression accepted without demur, but one moment's consideration suffices to convince us that what it says cannot really be what it means.[125:B] If we turn it, for instance, into "C'est le fromage," and so get rid of the old formula, we realise this better. What we are to put in its place is quite another matter. One authority suggests that cheese is really the French word "chose," and would bid us accept "C'est le chose" as the true rendering. Another informs us that "chiz" is Bengalee for "thing,"

and that the expression has been imported from the East; while a third, and he is the man that we would personally pin our faith on, reminds us that "choice" was in Anglo-Saxon times "chese." In the "Vision of Piers Plowman," for example, we read--

"Now thou might chese How thou cal me, now thou knowst al mi names."

"That's the cheese," then, if we accept this explanation, is "That's the choice," the satisfactory result that one would have chosen to happen.

Another misconception is the familiar saying, "Raining cats and dogs."

Such a meteorologico-zoological phenomenon never really takes place; no instance of it has ever been known, and yet people go on using the expression as though the experience was of very ordinary occurrence. The word we want is "catadupe"--?a?a d??p??. ???p?? is a word used by Homer to express the crash of falling trees, and it is applied, too, to certain falls of the Nile. Thus Pliny writes: "Here and there, and ever and anon, hitting upon islands, and stirred as it were with so many provocations, and at last inclosed and shut within mountaines, and in no place carrieth he (the Nile) a rougher and swifter streame, while the water that he beareth hasteneth to a place of the aethiopians, called Catadupa, where in the last fall amongst the rockes that stand in his way he rusheth downe with a mightie noise."[126:A] Catadoupe is also a French word for waterfall, though it is now obsolete; and Ralph Th.o.r.esby, is his "Diary," describes Coldwarth Force in the Lake District as "a remarkable catadupa." When, then, we say that it is "raining cats and dogs" we mean that there is a tremendous downpour, a perfect catadoupe.

Another old country proverb, "Hurry no man's cattle, you may have a horse of your own some day," appears on the face of it a protest against over-driving, but the first word is a corruption of harry or steal.

To carry a thing through "to the bitter end" seems to imply that, come what may of opposition, the matter shall be forced through, no matter whose heart breaks in the process, but nothing so terrible as this is involved. The expression is a nautical one. Bite is a turn of a cable, and the bitter end is that part of the cable which is wound round the bitt. The bitter end is therefore the extreme end. We read, for instance, in "Robinson Crusoe," that during the storm his vessel encountered, the cables were "veered out to the bitter end"; and, if we turn to Admiral Smyth's "Sailors' Word Book," we find the bitter end defined as "that part of the cable which is abaft the bitts, and therefore within board when the s.h.i.+p rides at anchor. When a chain or rope is paid out to the bitter end no more remains to let go." The popular expression, therefore, that we are considering implies a determination to carry a thing through to a finish, but no bitterness of feeling is a necessary element in the process.

The expression "By hook or by crook" has grown into the idea of a dogged determination to effect a certain purpose--honestly, it may be--but at all events to effect it; but its origin carries no such idea, the most that is involved being a choice of alternatives. Those who by ancient manorial privilege had the right to collect wood for burning were allowed a hook and a crook, the former cutting the green wood, and the latter breaking off the dry; hence, one way or the other, by hook or by crook, they effected their purpose.

In Ray's collection of proverbs we find, "Reckon right, and February hath thirty-one days." What the significance of this can be utterly baffles us. "A little c.h.i.n.k lets in much light," but this necessary c.h.i.n.k is not as yet forthcoming. "They are well off that have not a home to go to" is another enigma. It sounds distinctly silly. Denham, we see, in his collection of proverbs, has the boldness to declare it "an apposite remark, often quoted by those who, sitting comfortably by their 'ain ingleside,' hear the pelting of the pitiless storm without." We would fain hope, for the credit of human nature, that this adage is not quite so apposite as this Denham would have us believe.

Bad-hearted proverbs are, fortunately, not very numerous in proportion to the sound ones, but there are yet too many of them when we remember how the clinching of a matter by a proverb is to some people almost equivalent to supporting it by a text. In some cases an evil meaning that is not justified is read into a proverb; thus, to declare that "Charity begins at home" is to enunciate a great truth, for he that careth not for his own flesh, we are told, is an infidel. Too often, however, this adage is made the excuse for withholding any wider sympathy, a meaning that it really gives no warrant for. "Honesty is the best policy" is an oft-quoted saying, and it is, as far as it goes, a true one, but it fails because it puts the matter on too low a footing.

Honesty for the sake of right, one's duty to G.o.d, to one's neighbour, and to one's own conscience and self-respect, is a right worthy aim, but honesty because on the whole it pays best is an ign.o.ble thing. The man whom such a maxim helps is a poor creature, and one whom we should be unwilling to trust very far. The saying, "Every man for himself, and G.o.d for us all," while it clothes itself in sham invocation to Providence, is at heart bad--a mere appeal to selfishness--the weakest going to the wall and trodden under foot, or what is more deftly called "the survival of the fittest." The French put it more unblus.h.i.+ngly as "Better a grape for me than a fig for thee." How scoundrel a maxim is the declaration that "It is not the offence, but the being found out, that matters"; and how mean a view of integrity and uprightness is shown in the statement that "Every man has his price"--only bid high enough, some perhaps requiring a little more than others, and truth and honour and righteousness become mere merchandise. "As well be hung for a sheep as a lamb" is an utterance equally unsound.

Such proverbs are found in all lands, human nature being what it is. The Bengalis say, "He that gives blows is a master, he that gives none is a dog," whole centuries of tyranny, of cringing to the strong, being revealed in these few words. The Spaniard says, "Draw the snake from its hole by another man's hand"--throw upon another the danger. The Dutchman says, "Self is the man for me." The German says, "Once is never"--some little sin may be allowed to all and never be counted. The Italian says, "At the open chest the righteous may sin"--the opportunity given to theft being a sufficient justification for availing oneself of it. Thus might we travel round the world, finding in every land some maxims of evil import.

To "look at home" is, however, a sufficient task, for no amount of depravity in a Swede or a Zulu will mend matters in Suss.e.x or Yorks.h.i.+re.

"Necessity has no law" is one of the utterances quoted as though gospel truth, but it is a doctrine that will not bear investigation, and "Better a bad excuse than none at all" is not much better. The slovenly housekeeper gravely declares, as a palliative of her untidiness, that "Everyone must eat a peck of dirt before they die," and, indeed, appears to feel somewhat virtuous that her operations are a.s.sisting this great natural law! "To accept an obligation is to sell your liberty" is a double-edged adage.[129:A] If we consider it as encouraging self-reliance it is good, but if we take it as a churlish disinclination to accept a kindness, it cuts at the root of all kindly mutual help and sympathy.

The proverb that "The wholesomest meat is at another man's cost" is despicable, but the adage "Up the hill favour me, down the hill beware thee" is atrocious, diabolical. That a man should be willing to accept every possible help in his upward struggle, and then, when he has attained success, trample on those who befriended him, and that a proverb approving the proceeding should pa.s.s from mouth to mouth, seems almost impossible of credence. Another atrocious saying is, "If I see his cart overturning I will give it a push"; and yet another runs, "Better kiss a knave than be troubled with him." A fair parallel in abominable teaching to these may be found in the saying, "A slice off a cut loaf will not be missed";[130:A] and for a flat denial of all honourable and manly action it would be hard to beat the teaching, "One must howl with the wolves"--make no protest against evil, take no stand for righteousness, but band oneself with the powers of evil in craven fear of them.

Not fiendish, like some we have quoted, but lamentably weak as a rule of life, is the old adage, "For want of company, welcome trumpery," and this motto of the idler, "If anything stay, let work stay." One could not imagine a very n.o.ble character to be built up on such nutriment as this. Another adage that "Good ale is meat, drink, and cloth" must be taken with considerable limitations. Good ale, _instead_ of the good food, the warm clothing, has much to be said for it as a corrected reading, as the sad experience of thousands of empty homes can testify.

Some proverbs have a strong touch of sarcasm in them, and this, when not too bitter and uncharitable, is a quite legitimate feature, as it may drive in a home truth where a gentler treatment would fail, while others have a touch of wit that helps to impress them on the memory. The line between the wit that makes us laugh and that which makes us wince is often rather a fine one. We propose to give some few examples of proverbs on these lines, and we may very well commence our series with the two adages that "Wise men make proverbs, and fools repeat them," and that "The less wit a man has the less he knows he wants it."

The fool, from the days of Solomon, and probably long before them, has supplied the basis of many a proverb; how happy, for instance, the hit at pompous self-conceit[131:A] is this: "A nod from a lord is a breakfast for a fool"; or the suggestion of the utter hopelessness of his condition, for "Heaven and earth fight in vain against a fool";[131:B] or his recklessness and want of prevision, for "The chapter of accidents is the bible of the fool"; and his want of brains, for "A wager is a fool's argument." The only ray of hope for him is in the French saying, "Tous sont sages quand ils se taisent"--fools are wise, or may at least be so reputed, when they are silent.

It is for the help of the fool that such a maxim as this canny Scotch proverb is floated--"Dinna gut your fish till ye get them." As these unfortunate people appear to be cosmopolitan, the Dutch have very similar advice for them, "Don't cry your herrings till they are in the net." The Italians warn them not to "Sell the bird on the bough," nor "Dispose of the skin before the bear is caught"; while even the sensible German appears to need the caution that "Unlaid eggs are uncertain chickens." The lamentable condition of the fool being only too obvious, "What good can it do an a.s.s to be called a lion?"[131:C]

The selfishness and scheming of certain people has been made the target for many shafts. The Romans had the adage, "Ficos dividere," to satirise those who strove too cheaply to gain credit for their liberality by cutting up a fig into portions and distributing these. An old English proverb says of such a man, "He would dress an egg for himself, and give the broth to the poor." How true, again, "He that is warm thinks all are so," and is careful not to raise the question. Have we not all seen, too, how the weak are imposed on, and that "The least boy always carries the greatest fiddle," and that "Those who can deny others everything often deny themselves nothing." The Italians have found out that "He who manages other people's wealth does not go supperless to bed." The way these artful people hang together (not, unfortunately, in a literal sense)[132:A] has not escaped attention, the old Roman declaring: "Ait latro ad latronem"--another rogue always being ready to say "Yes" to what the first rogue says. On the other hand, it is some little comfort to know that "When the cook and the maid fall out we shall know what has come of the b.u.t.ter"! How true, again, is the a.s.sertion that "We confess our faults in the plural, but deny them in the singular," and many a man who calls himself a miserable sinner would warmly repudiate any a.s.sent that others might make to this a.s.sertion of his.

A happy sarcasm is that "He refuseth the bribe, but putteth out his hand"--seeking to save appearances, and yet anxious not to lose in the process. "A bribe enters," we are told, "without knocking," no special publicity in the matter being desirable, and "He that bringeth a present findeth the door open," no obstacle being placed in his way. It must, however, be remarked that "Favourites are like sun-dials." Why? Because no one regards them any longer when they are in the shade. "Those that throw away virtue must not expect to save reputation," and "None have less praise than those who hunt after it." The Spaniards have a severe proverb on the corruption of the law-givers: "To the judges of Gallicia go with feet in hand"--a delicate way of advising the law-seeker to bring with him a brace of pheasants or some poultry to help his cause.

Things that all may well remember for their guidance are, that "Form is good, but not formality"; that "Respect is better secured by deserving than by soliciting"; that "Candour is pleasant, rudeness is not"; that "Popularity is not love"; that "Desert and reward seldom keep company"; that "Many suffer long who are not long-suffering"; that "Good reasons must give place to better"; that "Favour is no inheritance"; that "He who sets his timepiece by everyone's clock will never know the hour"; that "Things intended are not of the same value as things done"; that "Many complain of want of memory and few of lack of judgment"; that "Too much learning hinders knowledge." The Spaniards say that "A fool, unless he know Latin, is never a great fool"--a severe hit on pompous pedantry.

A room may be so full of furniture that one can hardly find a chair to sit down upon, and a man's brain may be so stuffed with recondite lore that common work-a-day knowledge is crowded out.

The direct appeal to religion is, naturally, not often met with in proverb-lore, such appeal being somewhat outside its functions, and on a higher plane than is ordinarily reached. The wisdom of proverbs concerns itself more with time than with eternity, though the advocacy of truth and honour, the exposure of knavery, the importance of a right judgment, and many other points that make for the right, are contributory to the higher life. The beacon light for those steering for the Celestial City must, nevertheless, be sought elsewhere. The old and beautiful adage, "The grace of G.o.d is gear enough," is very striking, and is, furthermore, interesting from the Shakespearean reference to it in the "Merchant of Venice," where Launcelot Gobbo says to Ba.s.sanio: "The old proverb is very well parted between my master, Shylock, and you, Sir; you have the grace of G.o.d, Sir, and he hath enough."

To "Tell the truth, and shame the devil," is one of our well-known popular sayings. Though often quoted lightly enough, it is a n.o.ble advocacy for standing up for the right at all hazards. The French proverb tells us that "Truth, like oil, must come to the top," and the Swiss, in like spirit, declare that "Truth cannot be buried." The old Roman adage also affirms, "Great is the truth and it shall prevail."

This, in turn, reminds us of the old saw: "A lie has no legs."

Nevertheless, unfortunately it has, and may travel gaily enough for awhile, but it contains within itself the seed of its own dissolution, and sooner or later its vitality has gone, and it perishes discredited; for "Truth," as the Spanish proverb beautifully has it, "is the daughter of G.o.d," and its final victory is thereby a.s.sured. Forgiveness of injuries is the lesson taught in the Bengali proverb: "The sandal-tree perfumes the axe that fells it"[134:A]; and an equally beautiful Persian saying is this: "Cast thy bread upon the water, G.o.d will know of it if the fishes do not." Another non-Christian proverb is the Greek saying: "Many meet the G.o.ds, but few salute them"--borne down by the cares of time, fail to recognise their presence, and suffer them to pa.s.s unheeded, or receive blessing at their hands, yet thank them not.

It is often too true that "The vow made in the storm is forgotten in the calm," for promises made readily enough in the time of trouble require a better memory than people ordinarily possess, and grat.i.tude seems to be one of the most short-lived of emotions. Another old saying is also too painfully true: "Complaint is the largest tribute heaven receives"--the sincerest part of our devotion--and to this we may add, "If pride were an art how many graduates should we have."

The value of Time is appreciated in such sayings as "He that has most time has none to lose"; "Time is the stuff that life is made of." Our ancestors counsel us that we "Use the minutes wisely, then will not the hours reproach," for "Like as the waves make toward the pebbled sh.o.r.e, so do our minutes hasten to their end," and "Every day in thy life is a page in thy history." An ancient adage warns us: "Take time while time is, for time will away"; or, as we find it in "The Notable and Antient Historie of the Cherrie and the Slae" (1595):--

"Yet Wisdom wisheth thee to weigh This figure in Philosophie, A lesson worth the lear, Which is, in time for to take tent, And not, when time is past, repent, And buy repentance dear."

In Howell's "Old Sayed Sawes" it is given as "All time's no time when time's past." Hence we are warned to take Time by the forelock. Life is a loan to man, and, while we complain that our days are few, we act practically as though there could come no end to them. "The shortest day is too long to waste," therefore "Do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of." The French say: "Il n'est si grand jour qui ne vienne a vespre." So that it becomes us well, in the words of a fifteenth century poem, to

"Thinke on the end or thou begyn, And thou schalt never be thral to syn."[136:A]

The Italians very graphically and poetically say: "La notte e la madre di pensieri"--night is the mother of thoughts, a quiet resting time, a pause in life when we can honestly take stock of ourselves.[136:B]

Death hath its special proverbs and warning saws: thus one warns the young and careless that "The churchyard graves are of all sizes," while another dwells on its inevitableness, declaring that "Death is deaf and takes no denial," and that all, fit or unfit, must face the fact, for "Death is the only master who takes his servants without a character."

The Romans had the proverb, "Finis coronat opus," and an English proverb hath it: "'Tis not the fight that crowns us, but the end." The Italians say: "A ogni cosa e remedio fuora qu'alla morte"--there is a remedy for everything save death; but "Men must endure their going hence, even as in their coming hither; ripeness is all," and what death has of terror is what the life has made to be terrible. A well-known proverb will be recalled as to the folly of waiting to step into dead men's shoes.

Thomas Fuller, in his essay on "Marriage," very happily says: "They that marry ancient people, merely in expectation to bury them, hang themselves, in hope that one will come and cut the halter"--a sufficiently painful position.

Though it seem impossible that the place of some great philanthropist or statesman could ever, on his removal, be adequately filled up, we soon learn that no one is really indispensable. The torch is handed on: "G.o.d buries his workman, but carries on his work."

The trials of life are many, and their lessons have their place in the proverbial wisdom of our forefathers, and we learn thereby how best to face them, and to see in them not evil but good. "The worse the pa.s.sage the more welcome the port," and "Bitter to endure may be sweet to remember." How excellent, too, the advice: "Make a crutch of your cross"--no longer a thing to hara.s.s but to support and help. It is well, too, to remember that, in any real and high sense, "'Tis not the suffering but the cause that makes the martyr."[137:A]

The deliberate offender is warned that "He who thinks to deceive G.o.d has already deceived himself," and "That sin and sorrow cannot long be separated." He is reminded that "He that sins against his own conscience sins with a witness," and that "Trifling with sin is no trifling sin."

How true, again, that "Few love to bear the sins they love to act." He who offends against Heaven hath none to whom he can plead. In ancient days it was held that in such a case Nemesis was inevitable, and a proverb in use before the Christian era declared that "Fate moves with leaden feet, but strikes with iron hands"--that punishment might be long in coming, but was no less sure--a later proverb, in like manner, teaching that "The mill of G.o.d grinds slowly but it grinds exceeding fine." The mere hypocrite--one of the most despicable of mortals--has a special adage for his warning, that "Religion is the best armour in the world, but the worst cloak"--an altogether excellent utterance.

Proverbs cast their nets far and wide, and gather in materials from many sources of inspiration. Speech and silence, wisdom and folly, truth and falsehood, friends.h.i.+p and enmity, wealth and poverty, industry and idleness, youth and age, moderation and excess, are all pressed into the service; even the divers occupations of life have their varying lessons, and to these we now give attention.

All who, even in the most amateur way, have tried their hands at carpentry will at once understand the point of the saying, "To go against the grain," when a task that has been undertaken is in some way distasteful; and carpenters, like other handicraftsmen, have opportunity of testing the truth of another very common remark, "A bad workman finds fault with his tools," or yet another happy criticism, "A man is known by his chips."

The loquacity of the barber has grown into a generally recognised feature of his calling. He is the "middle man," the cause of much dissemination of news, receiving and imparting it freely during the day's business. This is no reputation of yesterday; in ancient Rome the citizens said, "Omnibus notum tonsoribus," and we see in the old English adage, "Every barber knows that," that some few centuries afterwards the matter was as much in evidence as ever, and it is by no means out of date to-day.

The occupation of the tailor, as he sits all day cramped up in some room, has been held to be so enfeebling that it has been thought to justify the adage that "It takes nine tailors to make a man." This certainly is a great number. In a poem of the year 1630 we read--

"Some foolish knave, I thinke, at first began The slander that three taylers are one man."