CHAPTER VI
Proverbs suggested by Animals—Animal Characteristics: Sagacity, Fidelity, Cunning, Greed, etc.—The Horse—The Dog—The Cat: her Nine Lives; the Catspaw; falling on Feet; in Mittens—The Ass—Pearls before Swine—A Pig in a Poke—The Wrong Sow by the Ear—The Sheep—The Shorn Lamb—The Bull—The Goose—The Hen—Roasting Eggs—The Bird and her Nest—Birds of a Feather—Catching with Chaff—Roasted Larks—The Fox—The Wolf; in Sheep's Clothing—The Bear—The Mouse—Belling the Cat—Fish Proverbs—The Laborious Ant—The Worm that turns—Similes: from the Animal Kingdom; from Household Surroundings; from various Callings; from divers Colours
The animal life around him has always been an object of interest to man. Some creatures, like the horse, the dog, or the camel, he has trained to minister to his wants—for man is at his lowest level of sympathy and intelligence, the lowest type of savage, when we find him absolutely alone—while others, like the fox or the wolf, have necessarily become of concern to him in their power of molestation, disturbing his peace and thwarting his interests. In either case the very varying nature of the animals amidst which he dwelt has attracted his notice, since the fidelity of the dog, for example, the cunning of the fox, the sagacity of the elephant, could not fail to impress themselves upon his mind. Far away in the mist of a great antiquity the Old Testament has numerous allusions to the lessons that may be derived from the observation of animals, while Æsop and many other writers have made the various creatures the subject of their writings and evolved lessons for the benefit of mankind from their varying dispositions. We are, therefore, entirely prepared to find that in proverb-lore also the animal kingdom has been largely drawn upon, and we propose to give some few examples of this.
We are told that "It is a good horse that never stumbles," a proverb that reminds us to make allowance for others and to take heed to ourselves. We are warned, too, that "Boisterous horse must have boisterous bridle," that those who incline to resist authority have no cause for complaint if the hand of authority press somewhat hardly upon them. A fairly analogous adage is that "Mettle is dangerous in a blind horse." That "A horse is neither better nor worse for his trappings" teaches us to look below the surface in forming our judgments, and then again there is the well-known and excellent warning that "One may take a horse to the water but you cannot make him drink," a hint that one cannot always have one's own way, and that the co-operation of the other party in the arrangement is an essential point. To "Get upon the high horse" is to take up a needlessly dignified position, and make oneself somewhat unpleasant in the process; while "Putting money on the wrong horse," a saw suggested by the race-course, implies that one has supported the wrong side and helped on, through folly or ignorance, a matter that we had much better have left alone.[162:A] The caution, "Do not lash a willing horse," is often necessary, and the hopelessness of "Flogging a dead horse," endeavouring to infuse life into a defunct cause, sometimes needs a reminder; while the "Working for a dead horse" is almost as disheartening a process. The Spaniards in such a case say, "When the money is paid the arms are broken."
That "One must not look a gift-horse in the mouth" is a lesson in the proprieties of immense antiquity; we find it, for instance, in the writings of St Jerome in the fourth century. A mediæval writer tells us that "A gyuen hors may not be loked in the tethe." Rabelais says it must not, and the author of "Hudibras" says it must not; in fact there is an abundance of testimony to this effect, extending over centuries. The Frenchman says, "À cheval donné il ne faut pas regarder aux dens"; the Portuguese says, "Cavallo dado nao se repara a idade"; and the Spaniard says, "Caval donate non guardar in bocca"; and all over the world we find this delicacy of feeling advocated. In the proverb, "He is a proud horse that will not carry his own provender," we have a good lesson quaintly put. In Puttenham's "Arte of Englishe Poesie," 1589, we are instructed that "When we misplace our wordes and set that before which should be behind, we call it in English proverbe, 'The cart before the horse.'" The unequal way in which Fortune appears to work is borne home to us in the strong, yet scarcely too strong, statement that "One man may steal a horse while another may not look over the gate"; or, as Lily, in his "Endimion," hath it, "For as some man may better steale a horse than another looke over a hedge." In the "Paradise of Daynty Devices," 1578, we find this couplet—
"To whom of old this proverbe well it serves,
While grasse doth growe the silly horse he sterves."
In the more modern guise this is "While the grass is growing the steed is starving." It may at first sight appear a little hard to brand the horse as silly, since he can in no way be held responsible for the backward condition of the meadow, but we must remind our readers that "silly" is one of the words that has greatly changed its significance—it originally meant harmless or innocent.
"Money," we are told, "will make the mare to go," and the finding of "a mare's nest" is a feat that is still now and then performed.
"Why doest thou laugh?
What mare's nest hast thou found?"
—Beaumont and Fletcher, Bonduca.
In France it is the rabbit's nest, "nid le lapin," that people sometimes discover.
It is a curious thing that the fidelity and affection of the dog get little or no recognition in proverb-lore. This may possibly arise from the fact that in the East, the original source of many of our proverbs, the dog is held in no esteem. He is an outcast, the scavenger of the streets. "Him that dieth in the city shall the dogs eat"; and "Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?" was the indignant outburst of Hazael. In classic days it was said of a morose, ill-conditioned person, "A black dog has walked over him," and at the present day such a person is said to have "the black dog on his back." The dog of the fabulist that dropped the substance for the shadow was held up as a warning in his greed and folly, and "to dog" a person is not to lavish canine affection on them by any means; while a favourite piece of nursery teaching was, and perhaps still is, that "Dogs delight to bark and bite." "Every dog," we are told, "has his day," and "Love me, love my dog," has sometimes been made a stipulation. Latimer puts it more pleasantly, "Whosoever loveth me loveth my hound"—from his regard for me he will for my sake look kindly on what he knows to be dear to me.
To him who is hungry any food is welcome—"À la faim il n'y a point de mauvais pain," and therefore "Hungry dogs will eat dirty pudding." "Let sleeping dogs lie" is excellent counsel; the precept is not in the interest of the sleepers but of those injudicious enough to disturb their slumbers. "It is nought goode," writes Chaucer in his "Troylus and Cryseyde," "a sleping hound to wake," and again in the "Frankeleine's Tale," "Wyf, quod he, lat slepen that is stille"; while Shakespeare writes, in "Henry VIII.":—
"This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I
Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best
Not wake him in his slumber."
In Italy and Germany we have the same proverb, but it becomes in France "N'as tu pas tort de reveiller le chat qui dort," a much less formidable proceeding; and in Spain we find the variant, "When sorrow is asleep do not awaken it." Another Spanish proverb, and one of excellent wisdom, is "Though your blood-hound be gentle do not bite him on the lip." It is, by the way, remarkable how gentle big dogs are, mastiffs, retrievers, Newfoundlands, and the like, while being mauled and hauled by small children. Little Bessie, aged five, might venture to any extent on her great companion's forbearance and magnanimity, while we, reader, must exercise much more discretion.
"Give a dog a bad name and then you may as well hang him"[165:A] is a true and very oft-quoted adage. One less well known is "He that would hang his dog gives out first that he is mad."[166:A] He who is about to do something dubious first bethinks himself of some plausible excuse that appears to justify his action, and when this is accepted he is free from all fear of interference. The Greeks say that "He who keeps another man's dog shall have nothing left but the line." If he endeavour to keep it dishonestly—in fact, to become a dog-stealer—he cannot complain if such care as he has bestowed comes to nought and nothing is left to him but the cord and the food-bill. One old commentator would tell us that the meaning is that "He who bestows a benefit upon an ungrateful person loses his cost." This is a common enough experience, but it scarcely appears to be a moral springing from this proverb. The dog, stolen, tied up, amongst strangers, has no particular reason to feel grateful! The following proverb, "Wash the dog and comb the dog, still the dog remains the dog," indicates that externals do not affect the real nature.
Other doggy sayings are: "Two dogs agree not well over one bone," "Brawling curs have torn ears," "A scalded dog dreads cold water." Those who, having a good staff of assistants, find that much of the burden and responsibility yet weighs on them, will appreciate the point of the adage, "What, keep a dog, and bark myself?" a proceeding that certainly seems unreasonable. The Turks have a happy proverb that "The dog barks, but the caravan passes," its fussy interference being simply ignored. The Spaniards declare, in like manner, that "More are threatened than are stabbed," while the Dutch with equal wisdom advise us that "No one dies of threats." The Danes very happily warn us against judging too hastily in the hint that "An honest man is none the worse because a dog barks at him."
The cat takes its place in our proverb-literature. The "Kilkenny cats" that fought so desperately have often been quoted as a warning to warring factions, and tenacity of purpose gone mad and self-destructive. The old belief that a cat has nine lives has also got embalmed in an adage, and the question will be recalled, in "Romeo and Juliet," "What wouldst thou have with me?" the reply being, "Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives."[167:A] Yet "Care," we are told, "will kill a cat." While we may accept this saw on its moral side, and learn from it a lesson against despondency, its zoological side is open to grave question. A cat dying of anxiety may fairly be bracketted off with the broken-hearted oyster crossed in love. The "Grinning like a Cheshire cat," in a continual state of mirthful good humour, suggests a quite opposite phrase of feline nature. To "let the cat out of the bag" is another old saying that will at once occur to the reader; a less known, but very good one, Scotch in its birth, is, "He that puts the cat in the pock kens best how to tak' her oot." Another good proverb of like nature is, "Who will carry the cat to the water?"—i.e. who will endeavour to carry the plan through, undeterred by the difficulty of its accomplishment? To be made "a catspaw of" is also a very expressive saying; it arose from the old fable of the monkey using the cat's paw instead of his own to rake out chestnuts from the glowing embers. To live "a cat-and-dog life" is to lead such an existence of strife and snarl as one ordinarily sees in the aversion felt by these two animals for each other. The old saw, "A cat may look at a king," has, too, ordinarily been used as an impertinence.[168:A] In France its equivalent is "Un chien regarde bien l'évêque."
"Where window is open cat maketh a fray,
Yet wilde cat with two legs is worse, by my fay."[168:B]
The cat utilised as an excuse for other people's shortcomings has always been a favourite subject. Thus—"How can the cat help it if the maid be a fool?" On the other hand, the cat's larcenous propensities must be reckoned with, so we have the disheartening thought for the thrifty housekeeper, "What the good wife spares the cat eats," and "It's easy learning the cat the way to the churn." The Arabs say, "He trusted the keys of the pigeon-house to the cat," but on the other hand, "Honest is the cat when the meat is on the hook." Of him who declines to be turned aside by trifles, the Scottish proverb may be quoted, "He's ower auld a cat to draw a strae before." The man whose affairs, big and little, run smoothly, and whose ventures, however speculative they may be, are successful, may be said to be "Like a cat, he always falls on his feet." This power of falling on her feet from any height is a most valuable gift for pussy, and saves her from many a mishap.
The cat has her enthusiastic admirers, but as a friend of man she is ordinarily held in no great esteem. "Make much of the cat, and she will fly in your face." She is too commonly treacherous, selfish, and unreliable. We have more than once seen, and our experience cannot be unique, a cat fondled and stroked and made much of, suddenly savagely bite or scratch the hand that has been caressing it.
Pussy as a follower of the chase has suggested the proverb, "The cat that is always crying catches nothing," and the better known saw, "A cat in mittens catches no mice." "Fain would the cat fish eat, but she's loath her feet to wet"; and in Chaucer's "House of Fame" we find an interesting reference to this—
"Ye be like the slepie cat
That would have fish; but wost thou what?
He will nothing weate his clawes."
The "slepie cat," dormant on the hearth-rug, is, of course, like its confrères of the jungle, a nocturnal animal, and in the hours of darkness often becomes a little more wakeful than is altogether appreciated. As a songster of the night, instead of receiving merely barren compliments on its performance, it often gets the much more tangible reward of a boot, lump of coal, cake of soap, or such-like little token of appreciation as the auditor may find most readily come to hand.
A very venerable proverb indeed tells us that "The ass and his master do not always think alike." Phædrus, living nearly nineteen hundred years ago, had a fable in his collection to illustrate this. He pictures to us a man resting by the road-side, and his ass grazing near him. The man, suddenly catching sight of an advancing enemy, says that they must at once decamp that they be not captured, whereupon the donkey asks, "Will they clap on me a double load?" and the man can only reply that he does not suppose that they will. "Then," said the donkey, "what matters it to me to whom I belong?"
"He that makes himself an ass must not mind if men ride him," truly says the old English proverb, and another is like unto it, "When all men say you are an ass it is time to bray." It is no less true that "If an ass goes travelling he will not come back a horse." The locality changes, but under every sky the traveller remains much as he started. The ancient Romans declared that "One ass rubs another," a lesson in mutual help. When a coward boasts what great things he will do, or a fool assumes the philosopher, "An ass in a lion's skin" is suggested—from the fable that an ass once decking himself in the skin of the lion, was so elated at the terror he created that he could not forbear braying his delight, a performance which entirely altered the whole complexion of things and the animal stood revealed, the mere ass that he really was.[170:A] "The ass is wagging his ears" is a hit at those who, understanding little or nothing of the matter in question, assume a grave demeanour and an attitude of close attention. Two German proverbs may be quoted here, as they are both good: "The ass dreams of thistles," and "One ass nicknames another, Long-ears." The Spaniards have a very expressive adage, "The ass knows well in whose face he brays," a warning against too great a familiarity with unsuitable companions, or we shall infallibly find ourselves exposed to great liberties and a free-and-easy "Hail fellow, well met" manner that give us cause for repentance.
The Arabs have a happy reflection on those who, when we are in an intricate business, raise additional difficulties instead of smoothing our path, "A narrow lane and the ass kicking."
A lesson of contentment is found in this homely saw: "Better the head of an ass than tail of a horse"—to be valued in a low position is far preferable to being the fag-end of a higher. We once heard a man of some considerable influence in a country town declare that he was there a whale amongst the minnows, but that if he moved to the metropolis, as his family were desiring him to do, he should be but a minnow amongst the whales. Such a man would entirely appreciate this proverb. Another lesson of very similar import is seen in this: "Better an ass that carries us than a horse that throws us." A very quaint and shrewd utterance is: "Now I have got a donkey, everyone says, Good morning, John." Things are looking up, and friends are beginning to come in.[171:A] Finally, the Spanish caution: "He who wants an animal without fault may go afoot," that particular kind not often coming into the market.
The Sermon on the Mount and other discourses of our Lord afford us numerous examples of the national Jewish proverbs.[171:B] "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," is one illustration of this kind of popular folk-lore, and "Cast not your pearls before swine," is another; and in the old Greek proverb, "A scorpion for a perch," we have practically, "If he asks a fish will he give him a serpent?"
The Spaniards say, "Echar magaritas a puercos," and this throwing of pearls before swine re-appears in English proverb-lore, and, indeed, much further afield.
To "buy a pig in a poke" is to make a purchase without knowing really what one is buying. The alliteration has, no doubt, given the saying an added popularity. In France it is, "acheter chat en poche," or "acheter le chat pour le lièvre," a cat being palmed off as a hare on the incautious purchaser. We see now, too, how a determination to see for oneself would "let the cat out of the bag," and expose the trickery of the proceeding.
When a man has heedlessly made a bad bargain he is said, ironically, to have "brought his pigs to a pretty market"—the advantageous sale of his pig being a very important matter to the country cottager, meaning the payment of his rent, the clearing of the score at the village shop, and his general rehabilitation in the ranks of the solvent.[172:A] The generally unsympathetic and unsociable nature of the pig and his human counterparts is expressed in such sayings as: "Feed a pig and you will have a hog," and "What can you expect from a hog but a grunt?" while its "wallowing in the mire," and being well content to have it so,[172:B] has also been utilised as a warning.
A bit of homely advice, quaintly put, is found in this—"Do not drive black hogs at night." "Much cry and no wool" is the result of shearing swine, a hopeless task. The adage is often met with. In Fortescue's treatise on "Absolute and Limited Monarchy," written over four hundred years ago, we find a reference to "the man that scheryd his hogge, moche crye and no wull." In a book published in 1597 it runs: "Of the shearing of hogges there is great crie for so little wolle," and we find the saying again in "Hudibras" and many other books, and in old plays.
In "Hudibras," too, may be found the equally familiar expression, "wrong sow by the ear," a proverb of great antiquity that occurs frequently in the old dramas. We are told by some etymologists that the sow in question is not porcine at all, but is a large tub with handles. Sowsed meat is meat that has been in pickle in one of these sows. To have got the wrong sow (by the ear or handle for facility of moving) is to have brought the wrong vessel. To confirm this view they quote the old Latin proverb, "Pro amphora urceolus"—instead of the great amphora you have brought me a small pitcher. Either reading will serve the turn, and is of like significance in application—the warning against getting hold of an entirely wrong idea and hammering away at it.
To "cast sheep's eyes" on one is to snatch a hasty glance, looking askance with sheep-like timidity on some fair object whose regard has not been won or as yet appealed to. The idea that "One black sheep infects the flock and poisons all the rest" has, we need scarcely say, no warrant in actual fact, though, morally, a black sheep is a dangerous addition to any flock, a something to be promptly eliminated from regiment, workshop, school, or whatever other body he may be infecting or exposing to risk of contagion. A much more attractive adage is the well-known declaration, "God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb." The French say, "À brebis tondue Dieu mesure le vent," and the English proverb, as we find Herbert using it in 1640, is a repetition of this—"To a close-shorn sheep God gives wind by measure." This shearing process suggested eighteen hundred years ago, or possibly long before this,[174:A] the proverb, "Boni pastoris est tondere pecus, non deglubere"—"It is the duty of a good shepherd to shear his sheep, not to skin them." This note of warning is repeated in the reminder that "The orange that is too hard squeezed yields a bitter juice," both proverbs teaching moderation.
It is a pleasant little saying that "He who has one sheep in the flock will like all the rest the better for it." In these happy islands the fear of the wolf has long been extinct, but in other lands the sheep and the wolf are often bracketted together in their proverbs; thus in France one is warned against a too self-effacing humility in this world in the words, "He that maketh himself a sheep shall be eaten of the wolf"; while another lesson of worldly prudence is taught in the Italian proverb, "It is a foolish sheep that makes the wolf his confessor." The Spaniard says, "Oveja que bala bocada pierde"—"The sheep loses a mouthful when it bleats," a proverb which seems to encourage mere greediness at the expense of social converse, but which we may take more favourably to imply that it is better to stick steadily to one's work than break off for useless interruptions and, possibly, querulous complaints.
A "bull in a china shop" calls up a picture of tremendous uproar and devastation. The ancient Greeks substituted "An ass peeping." Menander, three hundred years before the Christian era, refers to it, as do Lucian and others. The story upon which it is founded is, that an ass, being driven along the road, put its head into the shop of a potter. This potter was a great lover of birds, and had many of them in his shop, and the sudden appearance of the ass's great head frightened them and led to a big smashing up of the crockery. The moral may be found in another ancient saying—"A mad beast must have a sober driver." The Latin "Bovem in lingua habet"—"He has an ox on his tongue"—is a hint that the man has been bribed to silence or false speech, an ox being a favourite device on the coins. Another saying of like significance is that, "The man has a bone in his mouth." A valuable lesson to the discontented, a warning that necessary troubles must be endured, that duties may not be shirked, is this—"To what place can the ox go where he will not plough?"
That the malicious cannot do all the harm they would is happily suggested in the adage, "Curst cows have curt horns." This proverb is centuries old, and is merely a translation from an ancient Latin[175:A] original—if indeed it be safe to suggest any date when this proverb sprung into birth—for it is quite possible that Noah quoted it as a bit of the good old wisdom of his forefathers.
It is scarcely necessary to remind our readers of, and much less to expound for their benefit, so familiar a saying as, "A regular John Bull."
The goose appears in several adages, one rather severe one being, that "If all fools wore white we should look a flock of geese." One could readily acquiesce in this if the adage said "they"; it is the "we" that is so painful. It is held that the goose is a foolish bird,[175:B] but how much more foolish was he who, having a goose that laid him a golden egg each day, cut the bird open to get at once the whole store. "Much would have more, and so lost all." The man who cannot say "Bo! to a goose" is rightly regarded as a poor creature. A very sarcastic adage is that which satirises the man who, having gained great wealth by dubious means, endeavours to buy over Heaven and his own conscience by a little cheap almsgiving in the words—"He steals a goose and gives away the giblets to the poor." We must not overlook, either, the great charter of freedom and equality enshrined in "What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander." "To shoe the goose" is now quite obsolete as a saying, though it was at one time very popular as a suggestion to those people, fussy busybodies, who will keep meddling in other people's affairs. It was a task that would take them, at all events, some little time, give their energies something to work on, and was no more useless than many of their toils. In the "Parliament of Byrdes," written about 1650, we read that he "Who wyll smatter what euery man doos maye go helpe to shoo the goose." There is a useful word of warning in the following:—"A goose-quill may be more dangerous than a lion's claw" to one attacked by it.
There is homely wisdom in the hint that "If you would have a hen lay you must bear with the cackling"; and, of course, the need or otherwise of teaching one's grandmother to suck eggs must not be forgotten. The Greeks phrased the idea as "Teaching a dolphin to swim," while the French say: "The goslings want to drive the geese to pasture." Two useful proverbs in this connection are that "There is reason in roasting eggs," a right and a wrong way for almost everything, and "Don't carry all your eggs in one basket."
A crotchety, fanciful individual, regarded by most people as a little peculiar, has, in English proverbial phrase, "A bee in his bonnet," or "Is bitten by a maggot," while the French say, "He has a rat in his head," and the Dutchmen account for his eccentricities by crediting him with a mouse's nest in his brains.
The Italians say: "Si prendono piu mosche col miele che coll' aceto"—"More flies are caught by honey than by vinegar." To arrive at any desired result, sweetness of manner will carry matters on much more efficaciously than the reverse.
"Where there are industrious persons there is wealth," and "Where bees are there is honey." Steady industry must reap a reward. On the other hand, we find a proverb, "To poke one's hand into a hornet's nest," and receive the painful reward of indiscreet meddling thereby.
An old English proverb hath it that "It is an ill bird that bewrays its own nest." Skelton, writing in 1520, declares how
"Rede and lerne ye may,
Howe olde prouerbys say
That byrd ys not honest
That fylyth hys owne nest."
While Heywood gives it as: "It is a foule byrde that fyleth his owne nest." As a member of a family, of a trade or profession, as the citizen, or the denizen of any country, each should bear in mind this adage, and beware of bringing reproach on himself or his surroundings.
The Italians say: "Ad ogni uccello suo nido è bello"—every bird thinks its own nest beautiful—and in a very old French book we found the equivalent of this: "A chescun oysel son nye li semble bel." A quaint little adage is this one from Spain: "A little bird must have a little nest"—a lesson in contentment, a warning against pretension and undue importance; while the Turkish saying, "The nest of a blind bird is made by God," is a beautiful lesson of resignation and faith.
The Italians say: "Better be bird of the wood than bird of the cage." This is rightly enough the bird's point of view; but the owner of the cage puts things rather differently, and declares: "Better one bird in the hand than ten in the wood." The Italians say that "It is better to have an egg to-day than a hen to-morrow"; but this, surely, is rather overdoing the thing. Even though present gain may outweigh future grander possibilities, the policy may be too narrowly pinched, and does away then with legitimate hope.
Those troublous little robbers, the quarrelsome sparrows, supply the material for some few proverbs. Of these we may instance a couple: "For fear of the sparrows the hemp is not sown"—a saying directed against the over-cautious, for necessary things must be done, even though there be some little risk in the doing; and "Two sparrows on one ear of corn cannot agree," though, if they would only be wise enough to let the other alone, there would be ample provision for both.
The French have a very true saying: "Chacun aime son semblable"—our English equivalent being "Birds of a feather flock together." Hence it is a saying: "Tell me with whom thou goest, and I will tell thee what thou doest." Burchardt, in his collection of Arabic proverbs, gives the following very graphic one: "He who introduces himself between the onion and its peel goes forth with the onion smell"; but, on the other hand, we have in the Spanish, "Associate with the good and thou shalt be one of them."
When some matter comes unexpectedly and inconveniently to general knowledge, the explanation of the informant as to his or her source of information sometimes takes the form of "A little bird told me." The probable origin of this will be found in the Biblical warning: "Curse not the king, no, not in thy thought, and curse not the rich in thy bed-chamber, for a bird of the air shall carry the voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the matter." Another very familiar saying, and still in use amongst our people, is that "One swallow does not make a summer,"[179:A] and yet another adage, and one equally well known, is the reminder that "Fine feathers make fine birds," almost always quoted disparagingly, but at least a hint that even externals have their value, and are worth consideration.
Another well-known adage is that "An old bird is not to be caught with chaff." The art of the bird-snarer has supplied several other useful contributions to the cosmopolitan ingathering of proverbial wisdom: thus, for instance, we are cautioned that "Drumming is not the way to catch a blackbird," and, again, that "An empty hand is no lure for a hawk"—that is to say, if we are unwilling to risk anything we shall probably also not obtain anything. There is yet again another, the warning voice against temptation and the snare, in this: "The fowler's pipe sounds sweet till the bird be caught." The Arabs declare that "A thousand cranes in the air are not worth one sparrow in the fist." This, with due allowance for Eastern exaggeration and hyperbole, we recognise as but over again the familiar estimate of the respective values of the so well-known bird in the hand as compared with that of the bird in the bush.
When folks are looking for some special and exceptional interposition of fortune that is going to put everything straight for them, and lead them by a delightfully lazy route to an easy affluence, we may not unfairly remind them that "When the sky falls we shall catch larks ready roasted." Only the little "when," that will call for no labour at all, and then a glorious abundance to at once follow.
The Scotch remind us that "A craw is nae whiter for being washed"; but then, on the other hand, this washing process seems needless, for another saw tells us that "The crow thinks her young ones the fairest." Elsewhere, though, we find that "The rook said to the raven, Stand aside, blackamoor"—an ornithological version of the same derisive spirit that led to the jeering pot calling the kettle black. It has been suggested that it would be a happy thing if some power would "the giftie gi'e us, to see oursel's as others see us," but we fancy it would be but a doubtful blessing after all.
An old proverb, with much good sense in it, says that "The woodpecker loses itself by its bill," the continuous tapping calling attention to its presence, and making its life depend on the gamekeeper's forbearance. The scream of the jay and the fussy cry of the blackbird often, in like manner, betray their presence in the woodlands, and thus, also, chatterers expose themselves, and are the cause of their own downfall. In many cases it is what other people are saying that works mischief to a man; but in the case of the blatant and thoughtless chatterer he works his own woe—all that other people have to do being to let him do his own summing-up, and be his own executioner. Other bird proverbs are: "One raven will not pluck out another raven's eyes," and "He greatly needs a bird that gives a groat for an owl." We are told, too, and it is a capital saying, that "An eagle does not catch flies";[181:A] that "The hawk is not frighted by the cry of the crane"—greater size being not necessarily greater courage. Yet another true, too true, proverb is, that "If you breed up a crow he will pluck out your eyes"—a lesson to prepare one for the base ingratitude that may follow great kindness shown, and of the still sadder returning evil for good.
The cunning of the fox has been a never-failing subject for the writer of fables, and has supplied the material for scores of popular sayings. Of these we need quote but a few as samples of the many, since they are almost all constructed on the same lines, the subject being nearly always more or less of admiration for successful trickery. Not a very good moral this, we may say, yet if, in its outcome, it teaches to beware of putting oneself in the power of such particularly artful and shifty characters, it will not be without its use.
Absolutely the only proverb that we can recall that takes up entirely different ground is one of jubilation on the final downfall of this arch-trickster, and, curiously enough, it is of wide appreciation. In Italy, it is: "Tutte le volpi si trouvano in pellicaria." In France it is: "En fin les renards se trouvent chez le pelletier"—the fox at last finds his way to the furrier's.
When he would conceal the real object in view, "We are going for a little music, said the fox." We are told, too, that "An old fox needs not to be taught tricks," and that "He would cheat the fox must be an early riser." The Germans say: "Wenn der Fuchs Richter ist gewinnt schwerlich eine Gans den Process"—if the fox be judge the goose is hardly likely to win the case.[182:A] "Wenn der Fuchs sie todt stellt so sind die Hühner in Gefahr"—when the fox feigns death the poultry are in danger.
The wolf is often introduced in proverb-wisdom, but he is, as his nature is, always a cruel, cheerless beast, quite wanting in the debonair attractiveness of the fox—who is as big a rascal really as he is. "To put one's head into the wolf's mouth" is to needlessly court great risks. The proverb is based on the old fable of the crane putting its head down the wolf's throat to extract a bone that had stuck there. The operation was entirely successful, and, on asking for his reward, the wolf told him that it was reward sufficient to have safely withdrawn his head. "To keep the wolf from the door" is to keep starvation at bay, and "To eat like a wolf" is to eat ravenously.
The Italians say that "Who keeps company with the wolf will learn to howl." Deliberate association with evil characters will make one as bad as those they associate with.[182:B] "Though the wolf may lose his teeth he does not lose his inclinations"—he is at heart as wolfish as ever. The Persians give the caution: "Keep the dogs near when thou suppest with the wolf," while the Romans had a saying, "Auribus lupum teneo." This having the wolf by the ears is a most dangerous position to be in, for the furious creature is so difficult to hold, and yet one dare not let go on any consideration. Thus do unfortunates at times get entangled in some bad business—the beginnings of a lawsuit, or the like—where advance or retreat seem equally alarming. The "Wolf in sheep's clothing" is a still more objectionable beast than the wolf in propria personâ, since he thereby adds treachery to all his other evil qualities:
"And by these guileful means he more prevail'd
Than had he open enmity profest.
The wolf more safely wounds when in sheep's clothing drest."
The bear has not so distinctive an individuality in fabledom as the fox or wolf. The best proverb that we have met with in which he figures is the declaration that "A man without restraint is a bear without a ring;" and then there is, of course, the well-known caution to the over-sanguine, "Sell not the bear's skin before you have caught him," or, as it is also phrased, "Spending your Michaelmas rent at Midsummer noon," not consider what may arise to mock your present confidence.
In our list of wild beasts it is a considerable drop from the wolf and bear to the mouse; but the mouse claims his place on our list, and is a much better known wild beast in England than the wolf, and therefore more in evidence in our proverbs. "The mouse that hath but one hole is easily caught," says an old adage, and we meet with it again in Chaucer's "Wife of Bath," in the couplet,
"The mouse that always trusts to one poor hole
Can never be a mouse of any soul";
or, at all events, of any great enterprise.
A very true and impressive proverb is that "A mouse may stir what a man cannot stay"—a very small commencement may lead to an incalculable ending; a momentary slip unarrested may hurl half-a-dozen mountaineers over a precipice; a little trickle of water unregarded may be the solvent that will melt away all barriers, and sweep all living things to destruction in the swirling torrent as it breaks its bonds.
There is a note of caution in the picturesque statement, "I gave the mouse a hole, and she has become my heir." The Spanish, "Give me where I may sit down and I will make a place for myself to lie down" is like unto it, showing in each case that if we "Give an inch, they will take an ell," and that we may, too late, repent of our first assistance when it has led in the end to our effacement.
The Chinese say, with quaint common-sense, "A mouse can drink no more than its fill from a river." Beyond a certain point that is soon reached all else is needless superfluity.
The strained relations between the cat and the mouse form the subject of divers popular adages. How good is the Scottish, "Weel kens the mouse when the cat's oot o' the house," paralleled in our English version, "When the cat's away the mice will play," or in the French, "Les rats se promenent a l'aise la ou il n'y a point des chats," and there is a pleasant vein of truth and humour in the assertion that "Mice care not to play with kittens."
In the "Order of Foles," a manuscript of about the year 1450, we find the graphic declaration that "It is a hardy mouse that is bold to breede in cattis eeris"; and Skelton writes, in 1520, "It is a wyly mouse that can build his dwellinge house within the cattes eare."[184:A] Heywood and other later writers also refer to this proverb in their various works.
The query, "Who shall bell the cat?" may be called a fable abridged, for it contains the point of one. The mice held a consultation how to secure themselves from the too marked attentions of the cat, and someone suggested that it would be an excellent plan to hang a bell round her neck, so as to give warning of her approach. The idea was taken up warmly, but then the point arose—Who shall do it?
"Quoth one mouse unto the rest,
Which of us all dare be so stout
To hang the bell cat's neck about:
If here be any let him speake.
Then all replide, We are too weake;
The stoutest mouse and tallest rat
Doe tremble at a grim-fac'd cat."
The above is from "Diogenes Lanthorne," issued in the year 1607. Heywood writes:
"Who shall ty the bell about the cat's necke low?
Not I (quoth the mouse) for a thing that I know."
To "smell a rat" is to have one's suspicions aroused as to something concealed, and is suggested by the eagerness of dog or cat to follow scent. The saying will be found in Ben Jonson's "Tale of a Tub," in Butler's "Hudibras," and elsewhere.
The art of the fisherman supplies material for some few wisdom-chips. "All is fysshe that cometh to net" we read in "Colyn Cloute" and other old sources of information.[185:A] "To swallow a gudgeon" is to be caught by some designing schemer's bait, some lying prospectus of the "All-England Aërated Soap Company, Limited," in which it is shown that the profits must necessarily warrant a dividend of sixty-five per cent. after six hundred thousand pounds have been set aside for working expenses. "To throw away a sprat to catch a herring" is a popular adage and of much good sense. "All fish are not caught with flies" is a useful hint too—all people that we would influence are not open to the same considerations. "It is a silly fish that is caught twice with the same bait." To err is human, and to be once entrapped may easily happen, but it is mere folly not to profit by bitter experience. The French say, "C'est la sauce qui fait le poisson," and the way in which a thing is presented to one is often of great importance. The use of proper means to effect our purpose is enforced in the warning that "Fish are not to be caught with a bird-call."
It is excellent advice to "Never offer to teach monkeys to climb up trees"—another variant on instruction in ovisuction. It is very true, too, that "Monkeys are never more beasts than when they wear men's clothes" and "ape" humanity.
The laborious ant has not escaped the notice of the moralist, fabulist, and adage-employer. That they store up a mass of grain for winter service is entirely untrue, but it was at all events thought that they did; hence Juvenal writes, "Some men, instructed by the labouring ant, provide against the extremities of want," while Ovid declares that "Ants go not to an empty granary." The Arabs say that "If God wills the destruction of an ant He allows her wings," a hint that sudden elevation above the capacity and beyond the experience of anyone will very probably cause their downfall. Another Arab proverb is, "The beetle is a beauty in the eyes of its mother." Whatever the rest of the world may think, maternal affection is all-embracing. The French adage, "Faire d'une mouche un eléphant," is a needed caution, equivalent to our reproof of those who would "make a mountain out of a mole-hill." Such exaggeration is most profitless; it is soon detected, and thenceforth even true statements are subjected by the hearers to a liberal discount.
That "Even the worm will turn" is an oft-quoted saying to rightly justify a limit to endurance of injustice. "Tread a woorme on the tayle and it must turne agayne," quotes Heywood; and Shakespeare, who clothes with beauty the commonest sayings of his day, writes:
"The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on,
And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood."
A great proverbial use is popularly made of similes or comparisons, and observation of the very varying characteristics of the animals around them soon supplied our forefathers with an abundant store of these. "All that is required," as Bland, an old proverb-collector, states, "in forming this species of adage is that the person or thing used as a comparison be generally known or reputed to possess the property attributed to it."
As examples of the sort of thing we find amongst similes suggested by various beasts: "As greedy as a pig," "as surly as a bear," "as cunning as a fox," "as quiet as a mouse," "as poor as a church mouse," "as obstinate as a mule," "as sharp as a weasel," "as fierce as a lion," "as timid as a hare," "as mischievous as a monkey," "as faithful as a dog," "as quiet as a lamb," "as playful as a kitten," "as sly as a cat," "as patient as an ox," or "as weak as a rat," and "as wet as a drowned rat." "As drunk as a rat" may have arisen from an idea that the creature imbibed too freely from the liquors often stored in the cellars it frequented. In Borde's "Book of Knowledge," 1542, we find the passage, "I wyll be dronken other whyles as a rat." These sayings sometimes refer to old beliefs that are now exploded. "As uneven as a badger" arose from an idea that the badger's legs are shorter on one side than on the other. "As melancholy as a hare" was a saying that sprang from the belief that the flesh of a hare engendered melancholy in those who partook of it, and that this effect was naturally produced from the unhappy disposition of the animal itself. Another saying, and one that has come down to the present day, is, "As mad as a March hare."[188:A]
Amongst the similes derived from bird nature we find: "As hoarse as a raven," "as stupid as an ostrich," "as innocent as a dove," "as chattering as a jay," "as plump as a partridge," "as proud as a peacock," "as bald as a coot," "as black as a crow," "as giddy as a goose," "as dull (or as wise) as an owl," "as blithe as a lark," and "as rare as a black swan." To our forefathers the idea of a black swan seemed an absolute contradiction, and to say, as was said in classic days, "Rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cygno," was to express at once the greatest impossibility the speaker could imagine.[188:B] Many things have happened since then, and amongst them the discovery of Australia and its singular fauna.
"As slippery as an eel," "as flat as a flounder," "as dead as a herring," "as round as a roach," are other well-used similes. "As thirsty as a fish," "as busy as a bee," "as blind as a bat," "as spiteful as a toad," are also in common use. The spitefulness of the toad arose from an old belief in his venomous nature and his promptitude in spitting poison on those who molested him. We also hear, "as merry as a cricket" or "as a grig." It has been conjectured that this latter should be, "as a Greek," and in support of this the Shakespearean passage, "Then she's a merry Greek," may be brought forward, and others of like tenor might be cited. "As blind as a beetle" doubtless arose from the way that some species have of blundering into the wayfarer in the dusk of the evening. The common dor-beetle, the cockchafer, the stag-beetle, and others supply us with illustrations of this. Sir Thomas Brown, in his interesting book on "Vulgar Errours," writes: "Slow worms are accounted blind, and the like we affirm proverbially of the beetle: although their eyes be evident." Udall writes: "Proude Ierusalem deserued not to haue this pre-eminence, which, albeit she were in every dede as blynde as a betell, yet thought herselfe to haue a perfect good syght, and for that cause was more vncurable"; while in the "Mirror for Magistrates" we find: "Say not the people well, that Fortune fauours fooles? So well they say, I thinke, which name her beetle-blind."
To compare a man out of his element to a fish out of water is a well-worn and familiar simile. Chaucer writes that "A monk whan he is cloysterless is likned till a Fissh that is watreles." This illustration of the unhappy condition of the monk outside his cloister is found not uncommonly, the earliest perhaps being in a Greek "Life of St Anthony," that is certainly not later than the year 373. Wyclif, for instance, writes: "For as they seyn that groundiden in these cloystris thes men myghten no more dwelle out therof than fiss mighte dwelle out of water." Some fish, as the tench, are much more tenacious of life when removed from their native element than others, and the saying that we have already quoted, "as dead as a herring," originated from the fact that this fish is in a marked degree unable to survive a very short removal from the sea.
The household surroundings of our ancestors readily supplied them with many apt similes readily understood by all. Of these we may instance: "As thin as a rake," "as round as a tub," "as cold as ice," "as dull as ditch-water," "as rough as a nutmeg-grater," "as hard as iron," "as smooth as a pebble," "as deep as a well," "as cool as a cucumber," "as soft as wool," "as hard as nails," "as stiff as a poker," "as light as a feather," "as flat as a pancake," "as dry as a bone," and "as fresh as paint." "As naked as a needle" occurs in "Piers Plowman," the only place we have come across it. "As dead as a door-nail" no doubt owes some of its popularity to its alliteration; it is sometimes "as dead as a dore-tree." In "Wit Restored," 1658, we find, "As dead as a dore-nayle"; and in "2 King Henry IV." Falstaff exclaims, "What! is the old king dead?" and Pistol replies, "As nail in door." In a much older work than either of these we find, in the description of a tournament: "Thurth the bold bodi he bar him to the erthe as ded as dornayl"; while another manuscript reads: "Feith withoute fait is feblere than nought, and as ded as a dorenail"—faith without works is dead. Piers Plowman says on this, "Feith withouten the feet is right nothyng worthi, and as dead as a dore-tree." The door-tree is the door-post, once part of a living tree, but now dead; while the door-nails are the equally moribund nails that in mediæval days studded the surface of the door.
Other similes from the furniture or other details of the house or its surroundings were, "as clear as a bell," referring to its tone, or "as sound as a bell," referring to its freedom from cracks that would destroy its sounding powers. We also have "as hot as toast," or "as crusty as a houshold loaf." "As clean as a whistle," or perhaps "as clear as a whistle." Those who have seen a country boy making a whistle from a bit of elder or other pithy or hollow wood, and then seen the final peeling of the bark and the revealing of the light green of the spotless underwood thereby, would give their vote probably in favour of "clean." It has been suggested again that the word means empty, a whaler that returns unsuccessfully from the fishing-ground being technically called "clean." On the other hand, the word "clear" may suggest either the quality of the sound or the necessity for their being no stoppage or impediment in the tube. Some will brush aside both explanations and say that the thing in question is not a whistle at all but a whittle, the big knife that butchers use, and that the notion really is that the thing in question, whatever it may be that calls forth the comparison, is cut off as cleanly and clearly as if it had been done by a whittle.
To be "as like as two peas" is a very happy simile, as all who have ever shelled peas will recognise. "As right as a trivet" is still an expression that may be heard from time to time. What those who use it quite mean by it it might perhaps puzzle them to explain. Some tell us that the trivet is a three-legged thing and must therefore necessarily stand firm, while we know by experience that a four-legged article will not always do so. Others tell us that this valuable quality of rightness depends on its being truly rectangular, as if it be not accurately made it will not fit the bars to which we would attach it, and will not give a level surface to stand pot or kettle on. Whatever the true explanation may be the rightness of a trivet is an article of popular faith, and no theorising will have any power to upset our firm belief in its rectitude. "As big as a parson's barn" refers to the olden time when the minister of the parish received his tithes in kind instead of in cash, and had to find sufficient stowage-room accordingly for these contributions.
Various callings were also laid under contribution in the quest for similes. Thus are: "As hungry as a hunter," "as dusty as a miller," "as black as a sweep," or a coal-heaver or a collier, "as sober as a judge," and "as drunk as a lord"—this latter being a relic of the old times when men of wealth and influence thought it no shame to give way to intoxication, and one of the duties of the butler, having supplied them with wine, was to loosen the cravat of any gentlemen who showed any signs of apoplexy, and to generally make their stay beneath the table as comfortable as possible. "As mad as a hatter" is really a corruption of the French, "Il raisonne comme une huitre"—he reasons like an oyster, and has no association with the gentlemen who provide our head-gear. The French proverb, we need scarcely point out, is sarcastic. The oyster when crossed in love, it will be remembered, is thus again made mock of and its feelings derided.
The various colours of the objects that meet our view are also pressed into the service of the seeker after similes; thus we have the excellent one, "as white as snow." We also find "as yellow as a guinea," a coin we rarely see, but familiar enough when this saying was to the fore. "As red as a rose" was common enough as a popular saying, but it is not so happy as many, seeing that roses are not by any means always red. "As red as a lobster" is above reproach if only we come across the creature after he has passed through the boiling stage, and "as white as a sheet" will pass muster. "As green as grass" is admirably descriptive, and "as grey as a badger" will do very well. "As brown as a berry" is more open to question, unless indeed it be a roasted coffee-bean. Berries are white, red, yellow, green, purple, orange, black, but we really cannot at this moment recall a brown one, so that it seems as though to be true we should say "as un-brown as a berry!" Black invites many comparisons. "As midnight," "as coal," "as ink," "as pitch," "as jet," are a few of these.
We were gratified to learn from a Brazilian that they have a simile, "as reliable as an Englishman." Job is of course the model of patience, Solomon of wisdom, Crœsus of wealth, and we have also "as true as Troilus," though the simile never took hold of the popular fancy. He was the Shakespearean ideal of unshaken constancy, and he declares that,
"After all comparisons of truth,
As truth's authentic author to be cited,
As true as Troilus shall crown up the verse."
"As true as steel" is the more ordinary simile that rises to one's memory. Other qualities, good and bad, that have supplied material for the makers of similes are: "Swift as an arrow," "deaf as a post," "ugly as sin," "cold as charity," "bright as the sun," "changeable as the moon," "sweet as sugar," "sour as vinegar," "hard as a diamond," "good as gold," "changeable as a weathercock," "quick as lightning," "firm as a rock," "soft as silk," "clear as crystal," "bitter as gall," "as rosy as an apple," "as cross as two sticks," "as bright as a new pin." Our list has no pretension to be complete—doubtless many others might be recalled; we have, as we write these words, remembered that we have overlooked "as plain as a pikestaff" and "as tight as a drum." Many such omissions will be duly noted by our readers, but our full justification will be found in the fact that we have had no desire or intention to make our list all-embracing. If those we have given are sufficiently representative of the sort of thing we have had under consideration, our object is gained.
FOOTNOTES:
[162:A] This is sometimes rendered "saddling the wrong horse." Cicero, before the Christian era, thus quoted it. His writings and orations teem with proverbs—the foolishness of trying to kill two birds with one stone, the undignified spectacle of a tempest in the classic equivalent of a tea-cup, the statement that while there is life there is hope, and many other such adages familiar to ourselves being introduced.
[165:A] "Give a dog an ill name and hang him, and it may be added, if you give a man, or race of men, an ill name, they are very likely to do something that deserves hanging."—Walter Scott, Guy Mannering. The French say, "Le bruit pend l'homme."
"Clown. Oh, Maister, you are half-hanged!
"Nobody. Hanged. Why, man?
"Clown. Because you have an ill name: a man had almost as good serve no master as serve you."—"Nobody and Somebody," 1606.
[166:A] "Qui veut noyer son chien, l'accuse de rage."
[167:A] A school-boy, writing an essay on the cat, put down that it was said to have nine lives, but he added that he did not now need them, because of Christianity. This, quaint as it is, has a great truth wrapped up in it—the love of mercy, including kindness to animals, that is one of the points of the teaching of Christ.
[168:A] John Dunton, for instance, wrote in the year 1705, "A cat may look on a Queen, or a Satyr on her present Majesty."
[168:B] Tusser. "Fray" may be taken as foray, while "fay" is faith—i.e. by my faith.
[170:A] The Germans vary this into, "Wenn der Esel auch eine Löwenhaut trägt, die Ohren gucken vor"—"Even when the donkey wears the lion's skin its ears peep out and betray it."
"As long as I am riche reputed
With solemn voyce I am saluted;
But wealthe away once worne,
Not one wyll say 'Good morne.'"
—Harleian MS., sixteenth century.
[171:B] "Jesus did vouchsafe to aunswere by a riddle and a prouerbiall saying: teaching that it was an other manier of kyngdome whereof the prophetes had spoken."—Udall.
[172:A] A quaint old English proverb warns us that "A hog upon trust grunts until he is paid for," a very discomposing habit.
[172:B] "For thilke verrei prouerbe befelde to him—The hound turnyde agen to his castyng, and a sowe to waischen in walewing in fenne."—2 Peter, chap. ii. Wyclif's translation.
[174:A] The date we have given is that of Suetonius, from whose writings we quote it. It was probably an ancient saying in his day.
[175:A] "Dat Deus immiti cornua curta bovi."
[175:B] Pliny, in speaking of the goose, says that "It may be thought there is visible in the creature some sparks of wisdom, for Lacydes, the philosopher, is said to have had one of them attached to him as a constant companion, which would never leave him night or day, neither in the open street nor in the baths." One does not quite see where the wisdom comes in. It appears either to suggest that the bird showed great fidelity, or, as some might think it, became an intolerable nuisance. However that may be, Pliny points to a remedy for the latter when he adds quaintly—"But our countrymen are wiser, who know how to make a dainty of their liver!" He then goes on to describe the cramming to which they are exposed. Polladius says that they were chiefly fed on powdered figs. Martial also mentions the great size to which the liver was developed—all of which goes to show that "There is nothing new under the sun," and that the equivalent of Strasburg paté has been an appreciated delicacy for many years before Derby hampers were dreamt of.
[179:A] "One swallow proueth not that summer is neare."—"Treatise against Dauncing," 1577.
"The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
And is not careful what they mean thereby."
"Pheasants are fools if they invite the hawk to dinner.
And wer't not madness then
To make the fox surveyor of the fold."
—Shakespeare.
[182:B] On the other hand, the Portuguese warn those who do not want to be taken for wolves not to wear the skin: "Quem nao quer ser loubo nao che vista a pelle."
[184:A] "That's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion."—Shakespeare, King Henry V.
[185:A] As, for instance, in Gascoigne's "Steele Glas," 1575, where we read:
"Where favor sways the sentence of the law,
Where al is fishe that cometh to net."
"Contrary to reason ye stamp and ye stare,
Ye fret and ye fume, as mad as a March hare."—Heywood.
"Thou madde Marche hare."—Skelton, 1520.
[188:B] "He that worse may must holde the candle, but my Maister is not so wise as God might have made him: hee is gone to seeke a Hayre in a Hennes nest, a Needle in a Bottle of Haye, which is as sildome seene as a black Swan."—"Angrie Women of Abington."
