Not fiendish, like some we have quoted, but lamentably weak as a rule of life, is the old adage, "For want of company, welcome trumpery," and this motto of the idler, "If anything stay, let work stay." One could not imagine a very noble character to be built up on such nutriment as this. Another adage that "Good ale is meat, drink, and cloth" must be taken with considerable limitations. Good ale, instead of the good food, the warm clothing, has much to be said for it as a corrected reading, as the sad experience of thousands of empty homes can testify.
Some proverbs have a strong touch of sarcasm in them, and this, when not too bitter and uncharitable, is a quite legitimate feature, as it may drive in a home truth where a gentler treatment would fail, while others have a touch of wit that helps to impress them on the memory. The line between the wit that makes us laugh and that which makes us wince is often rather a fine one. We propose to give some few examples of proverbs on these lines, and we may very well commence our series with the two adages that "Wise men make proverbs, and fools repeat them," and that "The less wit a man has the less he knows he wants it."
The fool, from the days of Solomon, and probably long before them, has supplied the basis of many a proverb; how happy, for instance, the hit at pompous self-conceit[131:A] is this: "A nod from a lord is a breakfast for a fool"; or the suggestion of the utter hopelessness of his condition, for "Heaven and earth fight in vain against a fool";[131:B] or his recklessness and want of prevision, for "The chapter of accidents is the bible of the fool"; and his want of brains, for "A wager is a fool's argument." The only ray of hope for him is in the French saying, "Tous sont sages quand ils se taisent"—fools are wise, or may at least be so reputed, when they are silent.
It is for the help of the fool that such a maxim as this canny Scotch proverb is floated—"Dinna gut your fish till ye get them." As these unfortunate people appear to be cosmopolitan, the Dutch have very similar advice for them, "Don't cry your herrings till they are in the net." The Italians warn them not to "Sell the bird on the bough," nor "Dispose of the skin before the bear is caught"; while even the sensible German appears to need the caution that "Unlaid eggs are uncertain chickens." The lamentable condition of the fool being only too obvious, "What good can it do an ass to be called a lion?"[131:C]
The selfishness and scheming of certain people has been made the target for many shafts. The Romans had the adage, "Ficos dividere," to satirise those who strove too cheaply to gain credit for their liberality by cutting up a fig into portions and distributing these. An old English proverb says of such a man, "He would dress an egg for himself, and give the broth to the poor." How true, again, "He that is warm thinks all are so," and is careful not to raise the question. Have we not all seen, too, how the weak are imposed on, and that "The least boy always carries the greatest fiddle," and that "Those who can deny others everything often deny themselves nothing." The Italians have found out that "He who manages other people's wealth does not go supperless to bed." The way these artful people hang together (not, unfortunately, in a literal sense)[132:A] has not escaped attention, the old Roman declaring: "Ait latro ad latronem"—another rogue always being ready to say "Yes" to what the first rogue says. On the other hand, it is some little comfort to know that "When the cook and the maid fall out we shall know what has come of the butter"! How true, again, is the assertion that "We confess our faults in the plural, but deny them in the singular," and many a man who calls himself a miserable sinner would warmly repudiate any assent that others might make to this assertion of his.
A happy sarcasm is that "He refuseth the bribe, but putteth out his hand"—seeking to save appearances, and yet anxious not to lose in the process. "A bribe enters," we are told, "without knocking," no special publicity in the matter being desirable, and "He that bringeth a present findeth the door open," no obstacle being placed in his way. It must, however, be remarked that "Favourites are like sun-dials." Why? Because no one regards them any longer when they are in the shade. "Those that throw away virtue must not expect to save reputation," and "None have less praise than those who hunt after it." The Spaniards have a severe proverb on the corruption of the law-givers: "To the judges of Gallicia go with feet in hand"—a delicate way of advising the law-seeker to bring with him a brace of pheasants or some poultry to help his cause.
Things that all may well remember for their guidance are, that "Form is good, but not formality"; that "Respect is better secured by deserving than by soliciting"; that "Candour is pleasant, rudeness is not"; that "Popularity is not love"; that "Desert and reward seldom keep company"; that "Many suffer long who are not long-suffering"; that "Good reasons must give place to better"; that "Favour is no inheritance"; that "He who sets his timepiece by everyone's clock will never know the hour"; that "Things intended are not of the same value as things done"; that "Many complain of want of memory and few of lack of judgment"; that "Too much learning hinders knowledge." The Spaniards say that "A fool, unless he know Latin, is never a great fool"—a severe hit on pompous pedantry. A room may be so full of furniture that one can hardly find a chair to sit down upon, and a man's brain may be so stuffed with recondite lore that common work-a-day knowledge is crowded out.
The direct appeal to religion is, naturally, not often met with in proverb-lore, such appeal being somewhat outside its functions, and on a higher plane than is ordinarily reached. The wisdom of proverbs concerns itself more with time than with eternity, though the advocacy of truth and honour, the exposure of knavery, the importance of a right judgment, and many other points that make for the right, are contributory to the higher life. The beacon light for those steering for the Celestial City must, nevertheless, be sought elsewhere. The old and beautiful adage, "The grace of God is gear enough," is very striking, and is, furthermore, interesting from the Shakespearean reference to it in the "Merchant of Venice," where Launcelot Gobbo says to Bassanio: "The old proverb is very well parted between my master, Shylock, and you, Sir; you have the grace of God, Sir, and he hath enough."
To "Tell the truth, and shame the devil," is one of our well-known popular sayings. Though often quoted lightly enough, it is a noble advocacy for standing up for the right at all hazards. The French proverb tells us that "Truth, like oil, must come to the top," and the Swiss, in like spirit, declare that "Truth cannot be buried." The old Roman adage also affirms, "Great is the truth and it shall prevail." This, in turn, reminds us of the old saw: "A lie has no legs." Nevertheless, unfortunately it has, and may travel gaily enough for awhile, but it contains within itself the seed of its own dissolution, and sooner or later its vitality has gone, and it perishes discredited; for "Truth," as the Spanish proverb beautifully has it, "is the daughter of God," and its final victory is thereby assured. Forgiveness of injuries is the lesson taught in the Bengali proverb: "The sandal-tree perfumes the axe that fells it"[134:A]; and an equally beautiful Persian saying is this: "Cast thy bread upon the water, God will know of it if the fishes do not." Another non-Christian proverb is the Greek saying: "Many meet the gods, but few salute them"—borne down by the cares of time, fail to recognise their presence, and suffer them to pass unheeded, or receive blessing at their hands, yet thank them not.
It is often too true that "The vow made in the storm is forgotten in the calm," for promises made readily enough in the time of trouble require a better memory than people ordinarily possess, and gratitude seems to be one of the most short-lived of emotions. Another old saying is also too painfully true: "Complaint is the largest tribute heaven receives"—the sincerest part of our devotion—and to this we may add, "If pride were an art how many graduates should we have."
