As the pains so the gains; and "He that will eat the kernel must crack the nut." For everything the price must be paid, and "One cannot make pancakes without breaking eggs."[14:B] We cannot all be of high position, whatever our zeal and industry, and in every army the rank and file are far in excess of the leaders, and are yet as indispensable as they. The French saying, "Toute chair n'est pas venaison"—"All meat is not venison"—comes in very happily here. When we recall how one revolts against "toujours perdrix," and how the London apprentices rebelled against being expected to eat salmon four days a week, we see that there is abundant welcome in the world for the steady workman, the diligent official, the succulent sirloin, the fragrant bloater.

That merit shall not go unrewarded, that fitness for duty may fairly hope to meet full and fair recognition is suggested in the proverb, "A stone that is fit for the wall is not left in the way," and men, sooner or later, receive the recognition of their worth that they deserve, for "The turtle, though brought in at the back door, takes the head of the table." A little influence, a friend at court, and a bribe to blind his eyes therewith have ere now been tried as an aid to fortune, for "A silver key can open an iron lock" in this fallen world it has been found. While this prescription is working the expectant suitor may amuse himself by "building castles in the air."

The commonest objects yield their lesson and are worked into the great mass of proverbial philosophy at the service of those who were daily using them, and could thus most fully realise the point of the utterance. The cooper soon found out that "Empty vessels make the most sound," and that every tub may well be expected to stand on its own bottom; and the miller early grasped the truth that "A little barrel gives but a little meal." He saw, too, that "A torn sack will hold no corn," and that "An empty sack cannot stand upright." The soldier was warned, "Draw not thy bow before thine arrow be fixed," and did not shoot before he had some definite aim. He knew, too, how prudent it was to have "two strings to one's bow," and that "A bow long bent at last waxeth weak." The woodman's experience added to the store of proverbial wisdom, "A blunt wedge will sometimes do what a sharp axe cannot"; that "Willows are weak, but yet they bind other wood"; that "Oaks may fall while reeds remain"; and that "Great trees keep down little ones"; while the gardener saw that "Ripe fruit may grow on rough wall"; and even the nursery yields the declaration that "A burnt child dreads the fire"; and the tailor grasps the wisdom of the advice, "Measure thy cloth thrice ere thou cut it once." Other homely adages are—"At open doors dogs come in," "A spur in the head is worth two in the heels," "The rotten apple injures its neighbour," "Darns are bad, but better than debts."

Proverbs are of immense value, as they furnish an inexhaustible store of epigrammatic utterances, and many of them are of considerable archæological and folk-lore value as keys to usages, beliefs, and so forth, that have now passed away. The many proverbs, for illustration, that deal with bows and arrows are survivals from remote antiquity or mediæval experience.

All proverbs, we need scarcely point out, are not of equal value or popularity. Some, from their going down to the solid bed-rock of human nature and common experience, have lasted for centuries, and will continue, doubtless, while time shall last, their appeal to humanity, while others are transient, local, restricted. While some collections of proverbs run into thousands of examples, it is astonishing how few in these latter days are really in use. If our readers, to test this matter, will turn their thoughts inwards, or consult any of their friends, they will probably find that half a sheet of note-paper will very comfortably suffice to put down their stores, and if a hundred people did this their lists would be curiously alike, showing that only a very limited number have really nowadays found popular acceptance. One hundred per cent. of these lists would include "All is not gold that glitters," "There is a silver lining to every cloud," and "Those who live in glass houses should not throw stones," all, it will be noted, being word-pictures. "A rolling stone gathers no moss," and "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush," are also very popular proverbs, and greatly for the same reason.

Proverbs may have more than one significance, and smite as two-edged swords. Like the old-fashioned flail, that has now so largely been superseded by the thrashing-machine, they may very smartly return on the head of the careless user of them. If, for example, we quote the adage, "Set the saddle on the right horse," it may signify our intention to see that those whose action in some matter is blameworthy shall be duly held up to execration, or it may with the utmost kindliness desire that the "willing horse," human or equine, shall not be imposed on, and that those shall bear the burden that are most fit to do so.

Some proverbs are merely palpable truisms, and have little or no claim on our consideration. They have largely arisen from the mistaken zeal of some of the old writers in endeavouring to force into their lists anything that could be got together with any semblance of propriety, and in such a case the sharp dividing line that should be in evidence between proverb and platitude was often overstepped. Should A publish a select list of one hundred proverbs, the book of B, which contains two hundred examples—the hundred of A, plus axioms, platitudes to make up the double amount—is not twice as good; it is only half as good, because one has to spend time and energy in separating the gold from the dross. The following may be taken as illustrations of the sort of thing we are protesting against:—"He that does no good does evil," "The act proves the intention," "Defer not charities till death," "Diligence is the mother of good luck," "Books should inspire thought, not supersede it," "Learn first to obey before proceeding to govern," "Great designs require great consideration," "Self is a poor centre," "Affected simplicity is but imposture," "Yield graciously or oppose firmly," "Good cause gives stout heart and strong arm," "It is good to begin well, better to end well," "Procrastination often brings repentance." These, all culled from various collections, are perfectly harmless, and, indeed, praiseworthy. As copy-book headings they might render good service, but they want the "salt" to make them popular or acceptable. As truisms they are superb.

The antiquity of many of our proverbs is very great, and their parentage is enveloped in mystery. Howell, an old writer on the subject, likens them to "natural children legitimated by prescription and long tract of ancestriall time," and these foundlings have certainly been made very welcome. While the name of the coiner is not transmitted with it, the gift he bestows on posterity enjoys an unending popular appreciation that the authors of soul-stirring appeals, of learned treatises, of exquisite poems, sometimes fail to reach. It is a piece of proverbial wisdom that "liars should have good memories," and there is a very modern ring about it, but St Jerome, writing in the fourth century, introduces it to clinch an argument, and refers to it as an old proverb. Quintilian, a contemporary of Martial, Juvenal, Tacitus, during the reigns of Titus and Domitian, some three hundred years before the days of Jerome, also introduced it. How many centuries before this the proverb was in use, who can say? The rule it lays down would be a valuable one any time this three thousand years or more, and as political economists tell us that supply and demand act and react upon each other, we may reasonably assume that in the earliest ages the demand for such an axiom would give it birth. There is a homely ring in the saying that "He who lies down with dogs will rise up with fleas," and we could well imagine it starting into circulation somewhere about the time of our great-grandfathers, when manners were a little coarser, or at all events, a little more coarsely expressed, and when, without circumlocution, a spade was a spade; but over eighteen centuries ago Seneca quoted this proverb, and we find it in his writings in all its homely directness—"Qui cum canibus concumbunt cum pulicibus surgent."

Hesiod introduces many proverbs in his writings, and we find them again referred to by Plutarch, Cicero, and others. When St Paul warned his hearers that "Evil communications corrupt good manners," he was quoting a saying doubtless well known to them. It may be found again in the writings of the poet Menander. In the Edda we meet with many striking Scandinavian proverbs, and one of the books of the Bible, compiled about a thousand years before the Christian era, is wholly devoted to proverbial teaching.

Proverbs form a branch of that great mass of folk-lore that is more especially the possession of the humbler denizens of our towns and rural districts, and seem to have comparatively little sympathy with the great ones of the earth. In "Eastward Hoe," written in 1605, we have a quaint illustration of their use—where Touchstone declares, "I hired me a small shop, fought low, tooke small game, kept no debt-booke, and garnished my shop, for want of plate, with good wholesome thriftie sentences, as 'Touchstone, keepe thy shoppe and thy shoppe will keepe thee,' 'Light gaines make heavie purses,' ''Tis good to be merrie and wise.'" A great use was made of proverbs and mottoes during the middle ages on jewellery, pottery, furniture, and in fact wherever they could be applied.