Many of the proverbs of Italy are, naturally, not exclusively Italian, but when the Florentine declares that "Arno swelleth not without becoming turbid," we have a distinctly local application of the broad truth that they who would acquire riches quickly may fall into a snare, and that a sudden prosperity may be achieved at the expense of a soiled conscience. "Il remedio e peggio del male" is but an Italian version of the generally-accepted adage, "The remedy is worse than the disease," and "Una rondina non fa primavera" is their rendering of a truth familiar to us in the statement that "One swallow does not make a summer," a proverb of wide acceptance. In France it is "Une hirondelle ne fait pas le printemps"; in Holland, "Een swaluw maakt geen zomer"; in Spain, "Una golondrina no hace verano." We find it, too, equally at home in Germany, Sweden, and many other lands. Its significance is repeated in another Italian proverb that tells us that "One flower does not make a garland." A very characteristic utterance is that "Summer is the mother of the poor," life in sunny Italy being then less arduous to the indigent, and the problems of existence appear by no means so exacting.
The thorough-going character of German work is itself almost proverbial, and the treatment of the national proverbs in the "Deutsches Sprichwörter-Lexicon" is an excellent illustration of this German thoroughness, the editor having managed to gather in over 80,000. Another excellent compilation is that of Dr. Wilhelm Körte.
The proverbs, native or imported, that find most favour in the Fatherland are ordinarily excellent in quality and full of sterling good sense. We occasionally meet with rhyming examples, as in "Mutter treu wird täglich neu," a mother's love is ever fresh; or the less tender "Ehestand, wehestand," marriage state, mournful state; or "Stultus und Stolz wachset aus einem Holz," stupidity and pride grow on one bush; or again, in "Wie gewonnen so zerronen"; our "Lightly come, lightly go." But these rhyming adages do not appear to be so characteristic a feature in German proverb-lore as in some other nationalities. The English protest as to the absurdity of carrying coals to Newcastle[110:A] is in Germany the equally needless task of carrying water to the sea—"Wasser ins Meer tragen." Another picturesque proverb is "Die süssessten Trauben hangen am höchsten," the sweetest grapes hang the highest. The greedy are rebuked in the adage—"The eyes here are bigger than the stomach," and the thoughtless and thriftless are warned that "One may in seeking a farthing burn up three candles." The difficulty in pleasing some people is felt as much in Germany as elsewhere and is expressed in the proverb, "No tree will suit the thief to be hung on"; and there is the equally true remark, "There are many more thieves than gallows," many escape detection and punishment. "Woman and the moon," we are told, "shine with borrowed light," and the wife, in "die Hausfrau soll nit sein eine Ausfrau," is advised that her duties lie within the home and not outside it. It is, however, evident that to treat at any length on the proverbial lore even of Europe would mean not a volume alone but a shelf of goodly folios, a prospect much too overpowering. We pass then at once to a quite different sphere, and seek in widely different peoples some expression of their modes of thought and principles of action, as revealed to us in their popular dicta, and we may at once say that the search will result in the decision that, however much the outer envelope may differ, the inner thought will reveal to us that man, wherever we find him, is swayed by much the same impulses and guided by much the same motives, as he thinks over the problems of life. The resident in a mansion in Mayfair, in a kraal in Zululand, in a sanpan on some Chinese river, differ widely enough in externals and in much else, but we would venture to say that any good collection of proverbs, if rendered in the vernacular of each district, might travel round the world and find appreciation in every land. The burnt child dreads the fire in Samoa as in Salisbury, and that prosperity makes friends, and adversity proves them, is a piece of world-wide experience.
Chinese proverbs do not appear to be very numerous, but they are often very happily phrased and thought out. "As the twig is bent so the tree is inclined," we say, and in China they have the same idea, "The growth of the mulberry tree is as its youth." Filial respect and the duties of friendship and hospitality are often enforced in this Celestial teaching. Thus, "At home respecting father and mother, what need at a distance to burn incense?" so only the heart be right, no need of ceremonial and formal observance. "To meet an old friend is as the delightfulness of rain after drought." On the other hand, "If a man does not receive guests at home he will meet with very few hosts abroad." The upholders of the "spare the rod and spoil the child" system of education of which Solomon was so distinguished an exponent will be in full sympathy with the Chinese view, "Pitying your child, give him much cudgel."
On our journey through life we may find, as they have done in the far East, that "If you do not entreat their assistance all men will appear good-natured," but "The sincerity of him who assents to everything must be small." "Master easy, servant lazy," is only too true. It is again a common experience that, as we say in England, "One man may steal a horse while another may not look over the gate," a state of things that they yet more forcibly express in China as "One man may set the town in a blaze, another may not light his lantern." What graceful lessons of trust in a Higher Power are these: "Every blade of grass has its share of the dews of heaven," "Though the birds of the forest have no garners the wide world is before them." To avoid even the semblance of evil we are quaintly told, "In melon patch tie not shoe, under plum-tree touch not cap," actions innocent in themselves, but possibly giving rise to misapprehensions!
The exigencies of the Chinese language make a literal translation often scarcely endurable or possible, while a lengthened paraphrase gives a wordiness that is not a true reflection of the epigrammatic pithiness of the original. Thus in Chinese "Yaou chi sin fo sze tau ting kow chung yen" is "Wishing to know heart's thoughts listen to mouth"—that is to say, if you would desire to find out what most engages a man's thoughts you have only to listen to his conversation, for a man's words reflect his disposition, and he will thus, surely though unconsciously, reveal himself to you. The wisdom of knowing oneself, of offering something more than a formal service, are admirably enforced in these two heathen proverbs, redolent with the teaching of the New Testament: "If a man be not enlightened within, what lamp shall he light?" "If a man's intentions are not upright, what sacred book shall he recite?" "By a long journey we know a horse's strength, and length of days shows a man's heart." How beautiful, again, the imagery in this description of the swift flight of the days and years of human life: "Time is like an arrow, days and months as a weaver's shuttle."
How excellent the lesson of contentment with one's lot, "All ten fingers cannot be of the same length," yet all have their work to do. How good the lesson of forethought, of prevision of coming needs in this: "The tiles which protect thee in the wet season were fabricated in the dry." How prudent the advice: "He who wishes to know the road across the mountains must ask him who has trodden it," must be willing to profit by the experience of the experienced, and take counsel. There is a rich mine of wealth for the social economist, for the agitator who would set one class against another, in the following: "Without the wisdom of the learned the clown could not be governed, without the labour of the clown the learned could not be fed."
The mischief that may be wrought by evil speaking, the impossibility of recalling a hasty word, of cancelling a false judgment, is emphasised in the picturesque declaration that "A coach and horses cannot bring back a spoken word." How true the economic warning, "Who borrows to build builds to sell." How equally true the moral warning, "The forming of resentments is the planting of misery." How needful often the caution, "A single false move loses the game," a single false step may wreck a life.
Nothing can afford a better insight into the character and thoughts of a people than a consideration of their every-day utterances. If we were told a hundred things that a man had said we should have an excellent knowledge of the man, and if we read a hundred sayings that a nation accepts as guides, the nation stands revealed before us. Judged by this standard, and it is an entirely reasonable and just one, the Japanese come excellently out of the ordeal. Many suffer much in translation—the beauty of their outward presentment, as apart from their inner meaning, their manner as apart from their matter, consists often in an untranslatable play of words. Many are like ours, for God made of one blood all nations, thus: "Cows to cows, horses to horses," is practically our "Birds of a feather flock together." We append some few illustrations of the wealth and beauty of this Japanese proverb-wisdom; and while we forbear to make any comment, we would ask our readers to ponder on each one: "The frog in the well knows nothing of the great sea"; "Overdone politeness is but rudeness"; "A famous sword may be made from an iron scraper"; "The mouth is the door of mischief"; "Impossibility is a good reason"; "More words, less sense"; "Making an idol does not give it a soul"; "To submit is victory"; "The spawn of frogs will become but frogs"; "Sword-wounds may be healed, word-wounds are beyond healing"; "Enquire seven times before you doubt anyone"; "Good medicine may yet be bitter to the taste"; "If you handle cinnabar you will become red"; "Too much done is nothing done"; "Who steals money is killed, who steals a country is a king"; "Good doctrine needs no miracle."
The Arabs delight in figurative language and happy comparisons and allusions; hence proverbs are constantly in use. Many of them have a strong touch of humour and sarcasm. John Lewis Burckhardt, after a very long residence in Cairo, made a collection of these, and they were published under the title of "The Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians, illustrated from their proverbial sayings." In this he was greatly assisted by native helpers, and the book is a most valuable one. The examples are 999 in number, the author adopting a notion prevalent amongst the Arabs that even numbers bring misfortune, and that anything perfect in its quantity is especially affected by the evil-eye. By this means he doubtless received much valuable help from the natives that would otherwise have been withheld. Many of these proverbs are rhythmical in structure in their original form, but this feature is lost ordinarily in a translation. Long centuries of misrule have had their influence on the people, and the oppression of the strong, the insecurity of the weak, the power of bribery, the denial of justice, the imprudence of any independence of spirit, are revealed in these maxims. Such a saying as "What does heaven care for the cries of the dogs?" has a sadly hopeless ring about it, while the depth of servility is reached in this: "When the monkey reigns dance before him," in utter abasement of spirit. "If thou seest a wall inclines run from under it"—that is to say, shout ever on the stronger side, and fly from him whose rule is tottering. Another striking adage is "He strikes me, and says why does he cry out?" the surprise of the unjust overseer that anyone should presume to raise any objection to his injustice and tyranny; while the prudence of being on the stronger side is seen again in this: "If the moon be with thee thou needest not to care about the stars." We would fain hope that a brighter day has now risen on this ancient land.
