Proverb Lore Part 20

In the household where the unfortunate husband has allowed the control to slip into the hands of his wife, "The grey mare is the better horse." The French call this "Le marriage d'epervier"--a hawk's wedding, because the female hawk is the bigger bird. In "A Treatyse Shewing and Declaring the Pryde and Abuse of Women Now a Days," c. 1550, we find:

"What! shall the graye mayre be the better horse, And be wanton styll at home?

Naye, then, welcome home, Syr Woodc.o.c.ke, Ye shall be tamed anone."

Heywood, writing in the year 1546, has the couplet:

"She is, quoth he, bent to force you perforce, To know that the grey mare is the better horse,"

and in many of the old plays the saying crops up:

"Ill thrives that hapless family that shows A c.o.c.k that's silent and a hen that crows; I know not which live more unnatural lives, Obeying husbands, or commanding wives."

"The whistling maid" and "the crowing hen" are alike held objectionable, these masculine performances being considered entirely out of place and of bad omen.

The perils of matrimony would, according to the proverb-mongers, appear to be so great that we can scarcely wonder at the counsel:

"If that a batchelor thou bee Keepe the same style, be ruled by mee, Lest that repentance all too late Rewarde thee withe a broken pate.

Iff thou be yonge then marye not yett, Iff thou be olde thou hast more wytt: For yonge men's wyves wyll not be taught, And olde men's wyves bee good for nought."

The home-life has goodly store of proverbial wisdom a.s.sociated with it.

The French say: "Chaque oiseau trouve son nid bien," and the Italians, "Ad ogni uccello il suo nido e bello," while the Englishman says, "East, west, home is best."[239:A] Monckton Milnes very truly says, "A man's best things are nearest him, lie close about his feet"; and a charming old saying is this, that "Small cheer, with great welcome, make a big feast." Proverbs, it must be confessed, are ordinarily very worldly wise, and much more frequently see the worse than the better side of things, and most of the adages about the home are very materialistic in tone; the sweet sentiment that is a.s.sociated with the idea must be sought elsewhere. "The suit is best that fits me best," says an English adage, and the comfort of content is seen again in the Scottish saying--"Better a little fire that warms than mickle that burns."

Socrates, pa.s.sing through the markets, cried: "How much is here I do not want." "He who wants content," says an old proverb, "cannot find an easy chair."

Prudential maxims are very numerous; thus, we are warned that "Wilful waste makes woful want," that "Silks and satins put out the kitchen fire," and that "If you pay not a servant his wages he will pay himself;" while caution in another direction is advised in the saying, "The child says in the street what he heard at the fireside," and in this: "One bad example spoils many good precepts." The Germans say that "It is easier to build two hearths than to keep a fire in one," while the Portuguese advocate a judicious blending of prudence with sentiment in the adage: "Marry, marry, but what about the housekeeping?"--a by no means unimportant consideration. Love in a cottage will fare the better if the larder be not too bare.

The writer of Ecclesiasticus describes very happily the plight of the unwelcome guest--the man or woman who, as we say in English, is sitting all the while on thorns. "Better is the life of a poor man in a mean cottage than delicate fare in another man's house. For it is a miserable life to go from house to house, for where thou art a stranger thou darest not open thy mouth. Give place, thou stranger, to an honourable man; my brother cometh to be lodged, and I have need of mine house"--a sufficiently humiliating dismissal. It has, we presume, been the lot of most people to find themselves the objects of a special and not quite disinterested friends.h.i.+p; to feel that one is being used, and one's kindness abused. Such people in the end defeat their own object, since one soon learns to avoid the risk of an invitation for a week when we remember that the last acceptance of such an invitation meant a two months' sojourn, and the upsetting of all our plans. Proverbs relating to this state of things will be seen in "An unbidden guest knows not where to sit"; "Who depends on another's table may often dine late"; and the advice to "Scald not your lips with another's porridge"--all warnings of excellent value and weight.

Our readers will long ere this have discovered that the book of Ecclesiasticus is ever at our elbow when we would find words of wisdom, and we turn to it now afresh in our search for caution as to the tale-bearer and the breaker of confidences. "Love thy friend and be faithful unto him; but if thou bewrayest his secrets follow no more after him. For as a man hath destroyed his enemy, so hast thou lost the love of thy neighbour. As one that letteth a bird go out of his hand, so hast thou let thy neighbour go, and shall not get him again." And elsewhere, in the same treasury of wisdom, we read: "Whoso discovereth secrets loseth his credit, and shall never find friend to his need." In the Book of Proverbs[241:A] we find: "He that repeateth a matter separateth very friends"--loss of faith implying loss of friend.

Chaucer, it will be remembered, says that "Three may keep a counsel if twain be away." Another old writer tells us that "Curiosity is a kernel of the forbidden fruit, which still sticketh in the heart of the natural man," and this is seen almost at its worst when endeavouring to find out a matter that the person most concerned would desire to leave unknown, and quite at its worst when knowledge thus gained is made general property. "None are so fond of secrets as those who do not mean to keep them." There is no more trying person to deal with than he or she who continually punctuate their conversation with cautions that they "wish this matter to go no further," and warn us that that detail is "entirely between ourselves." They are an unmitigated nuisance.

A very quaint old proverb is that which tells us that "He was scarce of news that told that his father was hanged," and a very excellent rule of conduct is this: "Whether it be to friend or foe talk not of other men's lives." We are warned, too, that "He who chatters to you will chatter also of you," and the experience of most of us will confirm the wisdom of the adage.

Other happy sayings are these: "No one will repeat the matter if it be not said"; "Sudden trust heralds sudden repentance"; "More have repented of speech than of silence"; "A fool will neither give nor keep counsel"; "He that tells all he knows will also tell what he does not know"; "To tell our own secrets is folly, to tell those of others treachery"; "Thy friend has a friend, and thy friend's friend hath a friend"--great discretion is therefore necessary.

Heywood warns the man who thinks himself secure:

"Some heare and see him whom he heareth and seeth not For fieldes have eies and woods have eares ye wot,"

an idea that we find yet earlier in a ma.n.u.script, "King Edward and the Shepherd," written about the year 1300:

"The were bettur be styll, Wode has erys, felde has syght."

So gracious a gift of Heaven to the sons of men as hope must necessarily find recognition in our proverbial wisdom. Our readers will recall the lines in Pope's "Essay on Man," where he declares that

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast; Man never is, but always to be, blest.

The soul, uneasy, and confin'd from home Rests and expatiates in a life to come."

And in "Measure for Measure" we read that "the miserable have no other medicine, but only hope"; hence the saying: "Quench not hope, for when hope dies all dies." The Italians say: "L'ultima che si perde e la speranza"--the last thing lost is hope,[242:A] and the terrible words in the "Paradise Lost" recur to us:

"So farewell hope, and, with hope, farewell fear, Farewell remorse: all good to me is lost, Evil, be thou my good."

Lord Bacon, being in York House garden, looking at some fishermen as they were throwing their nets in what was then the pellucid and silvery Thames, asked them what they would take for their catch. They mentioned a certain price, and his lords.h.i.+p offered them somewhat less, which they declined to accept. They drew up their nets and in it were but three small fishes, and Lord Bacon said that it had been better for them had they closed with his offer. They replied that they had hoped that the catch would have been much greater, and his lords.h.i.+p in response reminded them of the proverb, "Hope is a good breakfast, but a bad supper";[243:A] and an admirably true saying it is.

A pithy old adage has it that "Hope is as cheap as despair," and it is certainly pleasanter; while another proverb tells us, as we lament departed opportunities, "When one door shuts another opens," a comforting state of things that the experience of many will confirm. How strong the encouragement to look forward with courage when cares seem overwhelming is the reminder that "When the tale of bricks is doubled Moses comes." Philosophy, good as it is, breaks under the strain, and is, when most wanted, but a broken reed. Goldsmith, in his play of "The Good-natured Man," says that "this same philosophy is a good horse in the stable, but an arrant jade on a journey," and Rochefoucauld equally happily declares that "Philosophy triumphs easily over past and over future evils, but present evils triumph over philosophy." We are reminded here anew of that definition of a proverb, "The wit of one voicing the experience of many," for certainly here Rochefoucauld supplies the _esprit_ while the rest of mankind can in this matter supply the experience.

A quaint little French proverb is this, "L'espoir du pendu que la corde ca.s.se," when they wish to express the idea of a very faint ground indeed for hope. When all that a man who is already hanging can hope for is that the cord may perchance break, his chance of a reprieve is but small. He has most legitimate ground for hope who has already done what in him lay to deserve success, hence foresight and forethought are a valuable possession: the one to see in advance the possibilities, the other to think how best to turn them to account:

"When all is done, lerne this my sonne Not friend, nor skill, nor wit at will, Nor s.h.i.+p, nor clod, but onelie G.o.d, Doth all in all.

Man taketh paine, G.o.d giueth gaine, Man doth his best, G.o.d doth the rest, Man knew well intendes, G.o.d foizon[244:A] sendes Else want he shall."

The value of forethought in various directions is enforced in the following wisdom-chips: "A wise man will make more opportunities than he finds"; "Hasty climbers have sudden falls";[245:A] "Count not your chickens before they are hatched"; "He that would enjoy the fruit must not gather the flower"; "Short reflection may save long regret"; "From bad to worse is poor exchange"; "Haste makes waste"; "Leave not to hazard what forethought may provide for"; "Cast not away the dirty water till thou hast clean"; "Little chips will kindle a large fire"; "Look before you leap"; "Beware of--had I known this before"; "Better be sure first than sorry after"; "Be wisely worldly, not worldly wise"; "Take heed that the relish be not spoiled by the cost"; "Heaven is a cheap purchase, whatever it costs"; "Ask thy purse what thou shouldest buy"; "He that measureth not himself is measured"; "When a fool hath bethought himself, the market is over"; "If things could be done twice all would be wise"; "Small beginnings may have great endings"; "A forest is in an acorn"; "Every maybe hath a maybe not"; "While it is fine weather mend your sails"; "Measure thrice before cutting once"; "Haste trips up its own heels"; "Take more time, that you may have done the sooner"; "Wisdom not only gets but retains"; "Defer not till to-morrow to be wise"; "Safe bind, safe find"; "A little wariness may save much weariness"; "Haste is a poor apology"; "That which the fool has to do in the end the wise man does at first"; and even then the dilatory man may never compa.s.s the task, for our position in life on the morrow depends largely upon our att.i.tude of to-day, and the remedy of to-morrow may come too late. "Our deeds determine us as much as we determine our deeds." It has been said that if we cannot go backward and change what has been we can go forward and change what is, but even this unfortunately is only partly true, and the shadow of the past may darken the future, do what we will.[246:A]

Hence the adage, "To-morrow is untouched," cannot be accepted without reservation.

Other proverbs that may well be quoted in praise of forethought are these: "Little stumble may save big fall"; "He who begins and does not finish, loses his labour"; "Put out your arm no further than your sleeve will reach"; "To change and to better are not always the same thing"; "Quick choice, long repentance."

"Take warning at once, that a worse may not hap, Foresight is the stopper of many a gap."

The French say truly enough that "Tout le monde est sage apres coup," an equivalent saying to our "After-wit is everybody's wit"; and the Portuguese declare that "An empty purse makes a man wise, but too late,"--a most unfortunate state of things. Another well-known adage is "Festina lente"--tarry a little that we make our end the sooner. "Presto et bene non conviene"--hastily and well rarely meet. A Ciceronian maxim was, "Certis rebus certa signa praecurrunt"--certain signs are the forerunners of certain events, or, as we say in English, "Coming events cast their shadows before."

"Often do the spirits Of great events stride on before the events, And in to-day already walks to-morrow."[246:B]

"Chi va piano va lontano"--he who goes gently travels far. A quaint old proverb tells us that "It is good to have a hatch before your door"--in order, that is, that one may not rush out too impetuously, but that a momentary pause may give opportunity for a moment's consideration. One of the most startling proverbs on this need of forethought is the Arab "Live, thou a.s.s, until the clover sprouts"--a better day is coming, despondency must give place to patience and to hope.

The manufacture of excuses has not escaped the notice of the proverb-makers and users. These excuses take two forms--the excuses that omission calls for, and those that commission needs--that black may look at least grey, if not absolutely white. A very good example of the former is this, "Am I my brother's keeper?"--originally the plea of a murderer, and ever after the excuse of those who would wrap themselves up in their selfishness, and shut their eyes, their hearts, their consciences, their pockets, to the needs of the suffering. It has been well said that "Apologies only account for that which they do not alter." In some few cases, such as "A bad workman finds fault with his tools," or "The creaking wheel blames the badness of the road," the utterance is quaint and not unwholesome, and very true to human nature; but in most of these proverbs dealing with excuses there is an actual incitement to evil, a justification of wrongdoing, an implication that people are only honest because it pays better or because the chance of knavery is for the time being debarred to them. We have so often heard the declaration that "Opportunity makes the thief," that it has lost its meaning; but if we really think it out a moment, how abominable in teaching it is! A similar saying is this, "A bad padlock invites a picklock," an insinuation that we would all be dishonest if we got the opportunity; while the Spaniards say, "Puerta abierta al santo tiento"--an open door tempts a saint. Shakespeare's utterance, "How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done," may express a sad truth, but after all we would fain believe that things are not quite so bad as not a few of our proverbs would imply: there is surely yet some little virtue and honesty left.

Fortune, good or ill, is not by any means overlooked. Thus we find the philosophic reflection, "Fortune can take nothing from us but what she gave"; and the warning, "Fortune is constant in nothing but inconstancy." We are warned yet again that "When fortune comes smiling she often designs the most mischief." All, however, is not blind chance; the hand of G.o.d is guiding; "There's a divinity that shapes our ends, rough hew them how we will." Nor is the hand of man without its influence, for "To him that is willing ways are not wanting," and "If you weave your web G.o.d will find the thread." The Italians say, "Vien la fortuna a chi la procura"--good fortune is to him who earns it; while the French declare, "Qui ne se la.s.se pas la.s.se l'adversite"--he who does not tire tires adversity, and steady perseverance will conquer ill-fortune. "La fortune aide aux audacieux," say the French again, while the Romans declared, "Fortes fortuna adjuvat"--fortune a.s.sists the brave, the cla.s.sic reading of our more homely version, "Nothing venture, nothing have."

The victim of ill-fortune is reminded that "It is a long lane that has no turning"; or, as Gower puts it:

"Sometime I drew into memoire Howe sorowe maie not euer last."

The French have a saying, "The wind in a man's face makes him wise,"

equivalent to the English adage, "Adversity makes a man wise, not rich,"

and so the Psalmist sings, "It is good for me that I have been afflicted, that I might learn thy statutes." Trouble works, however, in a twofold way, and while some it softens, others it hardens.

It is a matter of common observation that misfortunes often fall most unexpectedly, and that they seldom come singly.

"O soden hap, O thou fortune unstable, Like to the scorpion so deceivable, That flatrest with thy hed whan thou wilt sting."[249:A]

"Mischiefs," says an old proverb, "come by the pound and go away by the ounce," and the Italians have a practically identical saying. These calamities come sometimes in such a flood that no resistance to their attack seems of any avail, hence the quaint and homely adage, "There is no fence against a flail." The Romans had the saw, "Mustelam habes"--you have a weasel in your house, which they applied to those with whom everything seemed to turn out unfortunately: to meet a weasel being considered by the Romans an ill-omen.

It has been said that each man is the architect of his own fortune.[249:B] The statement is not wholly true, but it is sufficiently so to justify such proverbs as "As you have made your bed, so you must lie"; "As you brew, so must you drink"; and we must be prepared to take the consequences of our own fault. Zeno, the philosopher, having detected his servant in a theft, ordered him to be whipped; the servant, in excuse for what he had done, said it was decreed by the fates that he should be a thief, alluding to the doctrine of fatalism which his master maintained. And so, too, it was decreed, said Zeno, that you should be whipped. It has been well said that "Presumption first blinds a man, and then sets him running." The Germans say, "Wer da fallt, uber ihm laufen alle Welt"--he that falls down all the world runs over. All are ready to bear a hand in beating the man whom fortune buffets; and, as an old proverb says, "When the tree is fallen every man goeth to it with his hatchet." This kicking a man when he is down would appear a mean and contemptible proceeding were it not dignified by being termed the survival of the fittest in the struggle for existence, and this somehow throws a halo of philosophy on the proceeding, and the kicker is seen to be working out a law of the universe, in which the kicked also has an essential place.

We are told, truly enough, that "Half a loaf is better than no bread,"

that "A man had better be half-blind than have both his eyes out." Burke declares that "He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skill; our antagonist is our helper"; and the French say, "On apprend en faillant"--one learns by failing. Riches entail responsibility and anxiety, and a poet of the reign of Queen Elizabeth would have us believe that they are on the whole more trouble than gain:

"Take upp thy fortune wythe good hape, Wyth rytches thou doste fyle thy lappe; Yet lesse were better for thy store, Thy quyetnes sholde be the more."