"Proverbs," Whateley very happily says, "are somewhat analogous to those medical formulas which, being in frequent use, are kept ready made up in the chemists' shops, and which often save the framing of a distinct prescription." The uneducated are quite willing to be supplied with happy arguments ready made,[20:A] and having tested their efficacy, are well content to abide by them. Motherwell very aptly observes that "A man whose mind has been enlarged by education, and who has a complete mastery over the riches of his own language, expresses his ideas in his own words, while a vulgar man, on the other hand, uses these proverbial forms which daily use and tradition have made familiar to him, and when he makes a remark which needs confirmation, he clinches it by a proverb." It is of course obvious here that the word vulgar is not used in the offensive sense that has in these latter days been associated with it.
With the uneducated and poorer folk an axiom never becomes hackneyed. In all such matters they are very conservative, and do not readily forsake the old paths. Rustic humour, rustic customs, rustic remedies, all conform to this well-nigh immutable law. Years ago, when we lived in a little Wiltshire village, the leading farmer had a black horse with a broad blaize of white running from between its ears to the nostrils, and anyone meeting the carter leading this animal to plough or stable would accost him as follows: "That harse of yourn looks pretty baad!" to which the carter would reply, "Yees, he looks pretty white about the faace, doant he?" Should this horse, or such a horse, be still to the fore, we do not for a moment doubt—it is only eighteen years since we left—that this formula is still flourishing in perennial youth. Everyone knew just what to say and when to slowly chuckle, and so everybody was entirely satisfied, and the sally was a guaranteed success. It had ripened with age, and had long passed the troublesome experimental stage.
Lord Chesterfield declared that "a man of fashion never had recourse to proverbs," but after all his opinion is not final. The utterance is often quoted, but proverbs still survive his anathema, and the ban under which he would place them has had no binding force. It is, moreover, a matter quite immaterial what the man of fashion thinks of them at all. They yet remain interesting objects of study for the philosopher, and are for the man of the busy world a storehouse of practical wisdom.
The Divine Teacher did not scruple to employ this form of speech. In the synagogue of Nazareth He reminds them of the popular proverb, "Physician, heal thyself," and at the Well of Sychar He declares that saying true, "One soweth, another reapeth."
There is reason in all things, and the "happy medium" is one of the most valuable objects one can strive after in almost every direction. A man who was continuously firing off adages and axioms would be as terrible an infliction as the inveterate anecdotist or the everlasting pun-producer. Shakespeare freely introduces this proverb-lore, and the titles of two of his plays, "Measure for Measure," and "All's Well that Ends Well," owe their titles to popular proverbs of the day. Fuller uses it very largely and effectively in his writings. Butler's "Hudibras" is overflowing with proverbial allusions, and so, too, are the writings of Rabelais, Montaigne, Cervantes, and many another who might be instanced. We shall have occasion, however, later on to dwell at length on their introduction into literature.
"Apt alliteration's artful aid" is sometimes invoked. Such precepts as "Live and let live," "No silver, no servant," "Like likes like," "Out of debt, out of danger," "Time tryeth troth,"[22:A] and "No cross, no crown," and the Latin, "In vino veritas,"[22:B] are the more easily retained in the memory in consequence.
Another valuable aid to remembrance is found in rhyme, and many of our most widely current proverbs owe, no doubt, some at least of their popular acceptance to the catching jingle that fixes them on the ear. The following are examples:—"Who goes a borrowing goes a sorrowing," "Store is no sore," "The counsels that are given in wine will do no good to thee or thine," "Little strokes fell great oaks," "One drop of ink may make a million think." Very familiar examples are these—"Little pot, soon hot," "A stitch in time saves nine," "Many a little makes a mickle," "No gains without pains," and "Man proposes, God disposes." How true to life is it in a censorious world that "When I did well I heard it never, when I did ill I heard it ever." There is a touch of sarcasm in the following:—"As a man is friended so the law is ended," and the old saying, "In vino veritas," reappears in this, "What soberness conceals, drunkenness reveals." The equally well-known "Bis dat qui cito dat" is seen in the adage, "He giveth twice who gives in a trice," "He that by the plough would thrive, himself must either hold or drive," for "Well begun is half done," and "By hawk and by hound small profit is found." There are "No gains without pains," and it is "Better small fish than empty dish," "He that leaves certainty and sticks to chance, when fools pipe he may dance." He will find it true enough that "Great spenders are bad lenders," and so it is a case of "Help, hands, for I have no lands," and "Be the day never so long, at last it cometh to evensong." "Easy fool is knave's tool," but "He that mischief hatcheth mischief catcheth." "He has wit at will that with an angry heart can hold him still," but far better yet, "A little house well filled, a little land well tilled, a little wife well willed," for "A good wife and health is a man's best wealth."
Naturally, as rhyming proverbs are found to be valuable as aids to memory in England, they are equally esteemed elsewhere; thus in France we have "L'homme propose et le Dieu dispose,"[23:A] and "Ami de table est variable"—"The friend of one's table is of very little value,"—while the Spaniard says, "A malas hadas, malas bragas"—"Ill fortune is shabbily attired." "Asi es el marido sin hecho, como casa sin techo"—"A husband without ability is like a house without a roof." "El que lleva la renta que adobe la venta"—"Let him who receives the rent repair the inn." Those who take the profits should also bear the expense. In Latin we have "Durum et durum non faciunt murum,"[23:B] that is to say, two hard materials do not come well together in building a wall, we must have some soft yielding substance to soften their asperities, and to bind them together. In other words, two headstrong, domineering people will never get on well alone: there must be the intervention of some gentler spirit to palliate, to excuse, to be a peacemaker, and avert friction. "Nocumentum, documentum" is another illustration. Its significance is that trouble teaches a man and opens his eyes, the wise course being to profit by our misfortunes. "Via crucis, via lucis," and "Qualis vita, finis ita" are other examples of the rhyming proverb. Portuguese examples are, "De ora em hora Deus mellora," "Agua molle em pedra dura tanto dà até que fura," "Quem do alheio veste na praça o despe." Greek, German, Italian and other proverbs equally conform to this custom of aiding the memory by a rhyming treatment; but enough has been brought forward to indicate the point.
Sometimes actual rhyme is absent, but there is nevertheless a certain catch or jingle in the wording that attracts the attention; as, for example, "The law of love is better than the love of law," "Look rather on the good of evil men than on the evil of good men," "It is better to suffer without cause than to have cause for suffering," and "Take heed when thou seest no need of taking heed." A Latin example is, "Præmonitus, præmunitus," being forewarned one is forearmed, and prepared to defend oneself from a threatened mischief.
Such rhymes, alliterations, and quaint turns of diction have at all times had a great attraction to children and to primitive people, and to the great mass of mankind. That "Peter Piper picked a peck of pepper" is of overwhelmingly more interest, for instance, in the nursery than that George Piper should have ground a pound of coffee. When Cæsar reported his success to Rome in the words "Veni, vidi, vici," there can be little doubt that by both sender and recipients it was considered that he had put the matter very neatly, and the kindly Gregory and his hearers no doubt equally felt that a decidedly happy remark had been made when he hailed the fair-haired Saxon children as "Non angli sed Angeli."