The Power of the Tongue -- Speech and Silence -- Knowledge and
Wisdom not Interchangeable Terms -- Truth and Untruth --
Travellers' Tales -- Flattery -- Industry and Sloth -- Youth
-- Friends, True and False -- Riches and Poverty -- The Ladder
to Thrift -- The Influence of Womankind -- The Good Wife --
The Shrew -- The Testimony of Epitaphs -- The Grey Mare --
Home -- Hope -- Forethought -- Excuses -- Good and Ill Fortune
-- Retribution -- Detraction -- Pretension -- Self-interest --
Bribery and Corruption -- Custom and Habit -- The General
Conduct of Life -- The Weather -- The Moon made of Green
Cheese -- Conclusion
Speech, wise or otherwise, and silence, under the same limitations, have
supplied the material for countless wisdom-chips, the power of the
tongue in what it says and how it says it being recognised as of vital
importance, and this has been admitted at every period and under every
sky. It has been said that "More have repented speech than silence," and
the assertion has much experience in its favour. Though times arise when
prompt speech is needful, and cowardice and a poor expediency prevents
the words being uttered, it is, perhaps, more ordinarily the experience
that one unavailingly regrets having spoken, and would give much to be
able to recall the hasty and inconsiderate utterance.[194:A]
It has been truly said that he knows much who knows when to speak, but
that he knows yet more who knows when to be silent, and that the good
talker is known by what he says, and also by what he does not say. It
has been very happily declared that "Flow of words is not always flow of
wisdom," and that "Quality is ever better than quantity," so that "Words
should be delivered not by number but by weight."[195:A] Another very
true adage is that "Talking comes by nature, silence by understanding."
The Italians say: "Great eloquence, little conscience," and it is
certainly true that "Great talkers fire too fast to take good aim."
Speech has been declared to be the portraiture of the mind, so that as
the man talks to us he is quite unconsciously depicting himself. "A
close mouth catches no flies" says the old saw, and modest merit that
trusts to its deserving is likely enough to be supplanted by the boldly
importunate. Many would prefer to let these others do the impudent
begging, and would surrender the flies, but keep their self-respect.
Young tells us that
"Thoughts shut up want air,
And spoil like bales unopen'd to the sun"--
which is very true; while Shakespeare's advice is no less so:
"Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest."
A very homely saw declares, "Least said, soonest mended," and certainly
"Speaking silence is better than senseless speech"; but the assumption
that the speech is of such a quality that it is best left unsaid is a
little severe, and the mental atmosphere in which the less said implied
the less to be mended would be, we would fain hope, a very exceptional
one. We shall all agree that "Say well is good, but do well is better,"
and in the value of the caution that "In lavishing words one wears out
ideas." An old rhyme hath it that "A man of words and not of deeds Is
like a garden full of weeds," and a grave old writer advises us on this
that "The way of God's commandments is more in doing than in
discourse."[196:A] "Great talkers are ill doers" is another version of
the saying.
It has been said, and very justly, that "Silence often expresses more
powerfully than speech the verdict and the judgment," and to one who
comes beneath its sway it must be more eloquent and more crushing than
any audible denunciation that can be repudiated or challenged. It is a
very common saying that "Silence gives consent," but one readily sees
that this is much too sweeping. Nevertheless, the adage is of venerable
antiquity and of wide distribution. We find it quoted by Euripides long
before the Christian era. The Romans said, "Qui tacet consentire
videtur," while the modern Frenchman believes that "Assez consent qui ne
dit pas mot." In Psalm L. v. 21, things are presented on an entirely
different footing. "Silence," says Shakespeare, "is the perfectest
herald of joy; I were but little happy if I could say how much." The
tongue, "the unruly member," has been the subject of countless
discourses and essays, and also of warning adages beyond number. The
writer of Ecclesiasticus tells us that "The pipe and the psaltery make
sweet melody, but a pleasant tongue is above them both," and a French
proverb runs that "Douces paroles ne scorchent pas la langue."
Richard Taverner, writing in 1539, tells us that being "demaunded what
in a man is the worst thyng and the best, Anacharsis answered--the
tonge. Meanyng that the selfe same parte of a manne bryngeth most
utilitie yf it be with ryght reason gouverned, and agayne is most
perylouse and hurtfull yf otherwyse." This testimony may be accepted as
being about the truth; but, as it is much less necessary to commend the
good than to denounce the evil, the general set of proverb teaching is
strongly in the latter direction. An old Roman proverb runs, "Lingua quo
vadis?"--"Tongue, where goest thou?" The hint, to stop a moment and see
in what direction we are being taken, the journey and its ending, is an
excellent one.
"The first vertue, sone, if thou wilt lere,
Is to restreine and kepen wel thy tonge,"[197:A]
writes Chaucer, in the "Manciple's Tale," and he repeats this in
"Troilus and Creseide," and refers to this control of the tongue as part
of the valuable practice and precept of the wise men of old:
"For which these wise clerkes that ben dede
Have euer this prouerbed to us young
That the first vertue is to kepe the toung."
Hence, "If you keep your tongue prisoner your body may go free." Another
old proverb of similar import is, "Confine your tongue, lest your tongue
confine you"; while the Spaniards throw even more force into their
version, "Let not the tongue say what the head shall pay for." "Life and
death are in the power of the tongue"--self-destruction, or that of
others. "A fool's tongue may cut his throat" is a homely English saw,
and very much to the point.
A very quaint old MS. in the Harleian collection deals with the faults
and failings to which men are liable. Thus, for instance:
"With thy tong thou mayst thyself spylle,
And with tong thou mayst haue all thy wylle.
Here and se, and kepe thee stylle,[198:A]
Whatsoever ye thynk avyse ye wele."
This call to reflection terminates each verse. The whole poem is so
quaintly refreshing that we cannot forbear quoting, at all events, one
more verse--the caution against insobriety; and as this particular evil
has, amongst its other bad effects, that of provoking strife, angry
discussion, and foul language, we may still feel that it comes within
our scope--the influence of the tongue:
"And thow goo vnto the wyne
And thow thynk yt good and fyne,
Take thy leve whane yt ys tyme,
Whatsoever ye thynk avyse ye wele."
An ancient proverb reminds us that "It is good sleeping in a whole
skinne," and thereupon Heywood comments and advises: "Let not your tong
run at rover, since by stryfe yee may lose and can not winne." To "Teach
thy tongue to say, I do not know" is also an excellent discipline. The
young, especially, shut themselves off from much valuable knowledge
rather than admit their ignorance.[198:B]
In a manuscript of the fourteenth century we found the following:--
"Wykkyd tunge breket bon, the first
Thow the self haue non"--
This is the first reference that we have come across to a proverb
commonly encountered in the form of "The tongue breaks bones, though she
herself has none."[199:A] It is no doubt based on the passage in
Ecclesiasticus, declaring that "The stroke of the whip maketh marks in
the flesh, but the stroke of the tongue breaketh the bones. Many have
fallen by the edge of the sword, but not so many as have fallen by the
tongue." The book of Ecclesiasticus is an overflowing treasury of
wisdom. What could be wiser counsel, for example, than this?--"If thou
hast understanding, answer thy neighbour: if not, lay thy hand upon thy
mouth. Honour and shame is in talk, and the tongue of man is his fall.
Be not called a whisperer, and lie not in wait with thy tongue." "Where
there is whispering there is lying" says one of our proverbs, and it is
in the main true. The honourable and straightforward thing can
ordinarily be proclaimed in the ears of all.
The Spaniards declare that "La langua del mal amigo mas corta que el
cuchillo"--"The tongue of a false friend is sharper than a knife." "Mors
et vita in manibus linguæ": it is the arbiter of life and death, and yet
it has been necessary to remind men that "It is better to lose a jest
than a friend." A quick sense of humour, a talent at repartee, the power
of seeing the ridiculous side of things, are dearly bought when their
display is at the expense of the feelings of others.[199:B] A happy
conceit may be the beginning of an unhappy strife, and it must be
remembered that "He who makes others afraid of his wit had need be
afraid of their memories"--the sarcastic speech, the little touch of
ridicule rankling in the mind of the victim long after the utterer has
entirely forgotten them.
We are reminded, too, that "A fool, when he hath spoken, hath done all";
and the Spaniard tells us that "A long tongue betokens a short
head"--the braggart tells us much of what he is going to do, but the
performance is not at all in proportion.[200:A]
"The price of wisdom is above rubies" we read in one of the most ancient
of books, dating some fifteen hundred years before the Christian era;
and Baruch, also writing in far-off time, exclaims: "Learn where is
wisdom, where is strength, where is understanding, that thou mayst know
also where is length of days and life, where is the light of the eyes
and peace." The apocryphal books of the Bible include Ecclesiasticus and
the Book of Wisdom, and in each of these the praise of wisdom is the
dominant theme, as, for example: "Wisdom is glorious, and never fadeth
away"; "She is a treasure unto men that never faileth"; "All gold of
respect of her is as a little sand, and silver shall be counted as clay
before her"; "All wisdom cometh from the Lord, and is with Him for
ever"; "The parables of knowledge are in the treasures of wisdom";
"Wisdom exalteth her children, and layeth hold of them that seek her."
We need scarcely stay to point out that in the book of the Proverbs of
Solomon wisdom is again exalted in many striking passages full of poetry
and beauty.
We are all familiar with the adage, "Experientia docet"; but the
following, equally true, is less well known--"He that loses anything and
gets wisdom by it is a gainer by his loss." Another very happy saying
is, that "A wise man has more ballast than sail," and yet another is
that "Wisdom is always at home to those who call." It is very true, too,
that "By the thoughts of others wise men may correct their own," for a
wise man gets learning even from those who have none themselves; and "He
is the true sage," says the Persian proverb, "who learns from all the
world"--a wide field, but not too wide for profitable service.
We must be careful to bear in mind that knowledge and wisdom are not
necessarily interchangeable terms; a man may have a far-reaching
knowledge, and be a perfect encyclopædia of useful and useless facts,
and yet be wofully deficient in wisdom. "Learning is but an adjunct to
oneself," writes Shakespeare, in "Love's Labour's Lost," a sentence
luminous and golden. We see the essential difference perhaps the better
if we append to each its opposite--knowledge and ignorance, wisdom and
folly.
The fool has supplied material for countless proverbs. Solomon tells us
that "A foolish son is the heaviness of his mother"; that "A prating
fool shall fall"; that "It is as sport to a fool to do mischief"; that
"The fool shall be servant to the wise of heart"; that "He that is soon
angry dealeth foolishly"; that "Folly is joy to him that is destitute of
wisdom"; that "He that begetteth a fool doeth it to his sorrow"; that "A
fool returneth to his folly"; that "A fool uttereth all his mind"; that
"Fools die for want of wisdom"; that "The legs of the lame are not
equal, so is a parable in the mouth of fools";[201:A] while the writer
of Ecclesiasticus says--"Weep for the dead, for he hath lost the light;
and weep for the fool, for he wanteth understanding. Make little weeping
for the dead, for he is at rest; but the life of the fool is worse than
death. Seven days do men mourn for him that is dead, but for a fool all
the days of his life." Many other Biblical references may very readily
be found.
In the domain of secular literature and proverb-lore the material at our
service is equally lavish in amount and definite in its pity and scorn
of these unfortunates. The following may be accepted as samples from the
bulk: "Wise men learn more from fools than fools from wise men"; "Folly,
as well as wisdom, is justified in its children"; "Little minds, like
small beer, are soon soured"; "Wise men make jests, and fools repeat
them"; "He is a fool who makes his fist a wedge"; "On the heels of folly
shame treads"; "To promise and give nothing is a comfort to a fool"; "A
foolish judge passes a quick sentence"; "A wise man shines, a fool would
outshine"; "Cunning is the fool's substitute for wisdom"; "The fools
wonder, wise men ask"; "A fool and his money are soon parted";[202:A]
"The fool says, Who would have thought it?"; "Folly jumps into the
river, and wonders why Fate lets him"; "Wit is folly, unless a wise man
has the keeping of it"; "A fool can ask more questions than a wise man
can answer, but a wise man cannot ask more questions than a fool is
ready to answer"; "A fool shoots without taking aim." These proverbs are
severe, but one feels, on full consideration of them, one after another,
that there is not one that is exaggerated. They all describe people whom
we have all met, and who are still living.
There is some considerable compensation in the fact that "The less wit a
man has, the less he knows he wants it." The French say that "Un sot
trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire"--a fool always finds a bigger
fool to admire him--and that, too, must be very comforting.[203:A] As
writer and reader alike happily feel beyond any uncomfortable misgiving
that these various proverbs refer to quite other folk than themselves,
we may pick up a few hints from yet other proverbs as to our dealings
with these unfortunate people. One point that we need to remember is
that "He who has to deal with a blockhead has need of much brains." It
is expedient, too, to remember that "If you play with a fool at home, he
will play with you in the street"; and the caution may be given that "A
fool demands much, but he is a greater fool that gives it." It is
painful to know that "Knaves are in such repute that honest men are
counted fools," though to be counted a fool by a knave is, after all, of
little moment. We must bear in mind, too, that "No one is so foolish but
may give another good counsel sometimes," and the true wisdom is to
value good, from whatever quarter it comes.
The value of truth and the meanness of falsehood find due place in our
proverb literature. "Truth," we are told, "hath always a fast bottom," a
firm anchorage. "Truth hath but one way, but that is the right way."
Esdras tells us that, "As for the truth, it endureth, and is always
strong: it liveth and conquereth for evermore." Even in the old classic
days, before Christianity influenced the lives of men, the beauty of
truth was recognised, for Plautus wrote, two hundred years before the
coming of Christ, "That man is an upright man who does not repent him
that he is upright"; and Seneca declared that "He is most powerful who
has himself in his power." It has been beautifully said that "Truth is
God's daughter," and that "It may be blamed, but it may never be
shamed."
The following sayings will bear consideration:--"Truth begets trust,
and trust truth," "The usefullest truths are the plainest," "He who
respects his word will find it respected," "Craft must have clothes, but
truth can go naked," "No one ever surfeited of too much honesty," "A
straight line is the shortest in morals as in mathematics," "It is
always term-time in the court of conscience," "Character is the diamond
that scratches every other stone," "Truth is the cement of society,"
"Sell not thy conscience with thy goods," "Smart reproof is better than
smooth acquiescence." Truth, then, must necessarily make enemies, for
"Honest men never have the love of a rogue," and "Truth is always
unpalatable to those who will not relinquish error"--to those who love
darkness rather than light.
In the Library of Jesus College, Cambridge, in a manuscript of the
fifteenth century we find the following excellent teaching:
"Of mankynde thou shalt none sle
Ne harm with worde, wyll, nor dede;
Ne suffir non lorn ne lost to be
If thow wele may than help at nede.
Be thou no thef, nor theves fere
Ne nothing wyn with trechery;
Okur ne symony cum thow not nere,
But conciens clere kepe al ay trewely.
Thou shalt in worde be trewe alsso;
And fals wytnes thou shalt none bere:
Loke thow not lye for frende nor foo
Lest thow they saull full gretely dere.
Hows, ne land, ne othir thyng,
Thow shalt not covet wrangfully;
But kepe ay wele Goddes biddyng
And Cristen fayth trow stedfastly."
Another writer gives the very wise advice to take some little care of
what goes into the mouth, but much more of what comes out of it. Bacon,
in his "Advancement of Learning," speaks of "The sun which passeth
through pollutions and itself remains as pure as before," and Milton
adopts the thought but modifies it into this: "Truth is as impossible to
be soiled by any outward touch as the sunbeam." It has been said that
"Ridicule is the test of truth," but one scarcely sees why, and we see
that Carlyle, referring to it in one of his books, says, "We have,
oftener than once, endeavoured to attach some meaning to that aphorism."
Another adage, which we find in France as well as in England, is that
"All truth must not be told at all times." Expediency is a somewhat
doubtful guide, but expediency at its best is good common-sense, and
common-sense admits the truth of this adage. A much more doubtful saying
is that, "That is true which all men say," practically an echo of "Vox
populi, vox Dei," though in the highest and deepest sense a great truth
is involved in it. To assert that the clamour of the mob is necessarily
inspired by the wisdom of Heaven is mere blasphemy; self-interest,
prejudice, passion, are too evidently factors, and what all men are
saying at a certain period may be but a passing emotion built on the
shifting sand. Such a proverb so employed may serve well enough as a
plea for drifting with the stream and shouting with the crowd, but if we
go deeper the proverb is profoundly true. Man, born in the image of God,
marred as that image now is, preserves yet something of the divine, and
far below popular clamour and waves of passion is the seed of truth and
righteousness; and where this throughout humanity blossoms into
detestation of slavery, unjust war, or other outrage against the
conscience of mankind, and the cry goes to Heaven against the iniquity,
the Spirit of God is dwelling in the souls of men, and they become
co-workers with Deity.
Falsehood, like truth, has its attendant proverbs. How true, for
instance, is this, "Subterfuge is the coward's defence," or this,
"Falsehood stings those who meddle with it."
"O what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive."
Hence the French say, "Il faut qu'un menteur ait bonne mémoire"--"Liars
need to have good memories"; while the Scotch say very happily, "Frost
and fausehood hae baith a dirty wa'-gang." Other adages are: "To conceal
a fault is to add to it another,"[206:A] "The credit that is got by a
lie only lasts till the truth comes out," "Ill doers are ill deemers,"
"No poverty like poverty of spirit," "Better lose good coat than good
conscience," "Half a truth is often a whole falsehood," "He who breaks
his word bids others be false to him." "Almost, and very nigh, saves
many a lie," is a saw that is somewhat difficult to classify; it appears
to be on the side of truth, and yet it seems to suggest a way of coming
nearly to the boundary-line without actually crossing into the domain of
falsehood. In an old book of morals we find the precept, "In relating
anything extraordinary it is better, in case of doubt, to be within
rather than beyond the line of fact"--a somewhat half-hearted precept
this!
"Travellers' tales" have long been under suspicion, and certainly some
of the earlier explorers did expose the credence of their auditors and
readers to a severe strain in some of their narrations. On the other
hand, we must have the grace to admit that later explorers have
verified many statements that were long held impossible. The Persians
say that "Whoso seeth the world telleth many a lie"; while human nature
is so essentially the same all the world over that in the sayings of a
savage tribe in West Africa we meet with this, "He who travels alone
tells lies." The common experience of mankind is unfortunately against
the traveller, and he must sometimes be content to wait, years or
centuries maybe, before his wonderful experiences are fully accepted.
It is a true and far-reaching proverb that "Error, though blind herself,
sometimes brings forth seeing children." Thus from alchemy, with its
_elixir vitæ_ and _aurum potabile_, has sprung the science of chemistry;
and astrology, a farrago of superstitious rubbish, had yet within it the
seed that should afterwards develop into the grandest of all sciences,
astronomy.
"Flattery," Swift tells us, "is the food of fools," and Gray speaks of
"Painted flattery with its serpent train," while Goldsmith dwells on the
"Flattering painter who made it his care
To draw men as thy ought to be, not as they are."
The lines in "Julius Cæsar" will also be recalled, where Shakespeare
writes, "But when I tell him he hates flatterers, He says he does, being
then most flattered."[207:A] These various passages sufficiently
indicate that when we tag on flattery to the end of our section on
falsehood, the arrangement is not far wrong. Those only are the
recipients of flattery from whom some benefit may be obtained; hence
"Flatterers haunt not cottages" we are told, with quaint humour. That
such incense is appreciated by its objects rather than plain truths may
be gathered from another quaint old adage, "Flattery sits in the parlour
when plain-dealing is kicked out of doors." Perhaps this is a little the
fault of plain-dealing, its directness being not always tempered with
courtesy. The man who boasts that he always speaks his mind is not
invariably the pleasantest of companions. There must be a happy medium
somewhere between acidulated brutality of frankness and the sugared
seductiveness of flattery.
The virtue of industry and the vice of sloth are factors in life that
have not by any means escaped the notice of the builders-up of our
proverb lore and store. The praise and inculcation of industry may very
happily be seen, for example, in this gleaning: "Every man's task is his
life-preserver," for rust consumes more than use wears. "He who serves
well need not fear to ask his wages"; "Those that trust to their
neighbours may wait for their harvest"; "It is better to do the thing
than to wish it done"; "A wise man makes more opportunities than he
finds"; "He that will eat the kernel must crack the nut"; "Learn to
labour and to wait, but learn to labour first"; "Well begun is half
done";[208:A] "God calls men when they are busy, Satan when they are
idle"; "Work provides easy chairs for old age"; "Time wasted is
existence, used is life"; "Save yourself pains by taking pains"; "Things
don't turn up, they must be turned up"; "If you don't open the door to
the devil he goes away"; "One grain fills not the sack, but it helps";
"Prudence is not satisfied with maybe"; "Nothing venture nothing have";
"It is working that makes a workman"; "Industry is Fortune's right
hand";[209:A] "A willing helper does not wait till asked"; "We must not
spend all the time whetting the scythe"; "Love labour, for if you want
it not for food you may for physic"; "Bustle is not necessarily
industry"; "The deeper the ploughing the heavier the reaping"; "He that
begins many things finishes but few"; "Good beginning makes good
ending." To these one could readily add one hundred more.
It is a true saying that "Every man is the son of his own works," and
another good old saw is that "The burden which one likes is not felt."
The labour is then wonderfully lightened, and those who are fond of
their calling think little of the attendant toil, but perform as a
pleasure what others consider a weariness.
A proverb still in common use is that "Many hands make light work";
while sometimes one can do better work by not working at all, for "The
master's eye will do more than his two hands," the supervision being of
more value than the sharing in the toil.
An interesting old relic and reminder of old times, when the
spinning-wheel was in daily use, is seen in the saying, "I have tow on
my distaff"--in other words, I have work all ready to engage my
attention. Chaucer and other old writers introduce this proverb, but now
the lapse of time, or, rather, the change of customs, has made it
obsolete, a distaff being as utterly out of date as a battle-axe or a
pair of snuffers.
The entirely accepted, and very justifiable, belief that "Satan finds
some mischief still for idle hands to do," is seen in such proverbs as,
"If the devil catch a man idle he will set him to work," and its
parallel, "Our idle days are Satan's busy days." It has been said,
again, that "An idle brain is the Devil's workshop," and that "It is an
ill army where the Devil carries the colours." Chaucer is in full
agreement, and says that "Idlenesse is the gate of all harmes. An idel
is like to a place that hath no walles; theras deviles may enter on
every side," while Bishop Hall declares that "The idle man is the
Devil's cushion, upon which he taketh his free ease."
Amongst the many proverbs that have the dispraise of idleness as their
theme we may quote the following:--"Easy it is to bowl down hill"; "He
is but idle who might be better employed"; "They must starve in frost
who will not toil in heat"; "Idleness is the greatest prodigality";
"Idleness always envies industry"; "Business neglected is business
lost"; "He that maketh his bed ill must be content to lie ill"; "Better
to do a thing than wish it done"; "More die of idleness than of hard
work"; "There is more fatigue in laziness than in labour"; "Shameful
craving must have shameless refusing"; "Fish are not caught in one's
sleep"; "Like a pig's tail, going all day, and nothing done at night";
"Lie not in the mud and cry for Heaven's aid"; "Were wishes horses
beggars would ride"; "One of these days is none of these days"; "Wishing
is of all employments the poorest paid"; "Accusing the times is excusing
ourselves"; "There belongs more than whistling in going to plough."
Life, however brief, is made yet shorter by waste of its opportunities,
and it has been very truly said that "He who will not work until he
feels himself in the proper mood will soon find himself in the proper
mood never to work at all." For years we have had illuminated round our
study walls the stirring words: "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do
it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor
wisdom in the grave," and they have lightened for us many a burden, and
given an impulse to many an undertaking.
A Spanish proverb says that "She that gazes much spins little"--the
distraction caused by externals being fatal to concentration of thought
on the work. "No mill, no meal," is an old English proverb, signifying
that if the necessary rattle of the machinery and the supervision of it
is an offence one must be content to forego the benefits. "Black will
take no other colour," is to be read as a hint that vicious people are
seldom or never satisfactorily reclaimed. Camden, writing in 1614, tells
a story of "A lusty gallant that had wasted much of his patrimony,
seeing a gentleman in a gowne, not of the newest cut, tolde him that he
had thought it had beene his great-grandfather's gowne. 'It is so,'
saith he, 'and I have also my great-grandfather's lands, and so have not
you.'" We see that Fuller declares "Oil of whip to be the proper
plaister for the cramp of lazinesse"; while Cowper compares the idler to
"A watch that wants both hands, As useless if it goes as if it
stands"--a very happy idea.
One Smart, whom we may without offence class amongst the lesser poets,
wrote an ode on "Idleness," in which he declares that that is the goal,
and work merely its means of attainment. He thus apostrophises his
ideal:
"For thee, O Idleness, the woes
Of life we patiently endure;
Thou art the source whence labour flowes,
We shun thee but to make thee sure."
The aspirations, the temptations, the duties of youth, form the subject
of divers proverbs. These we may illustrate sufficiently by a judicious
selection from the great mass of material available. How excellent the
advice: "Be true to the best of yourself"; or this, "Rather set than
follow example"; or yet, again, this, "Take care to be what thou wouldst
seem to be." How good the teaching: "Liberty is not the freedom to do as
we like, but as we ought"; that "Golden age never was present age"; that
"Trinkets are no true treasure"; and that "In seeking happiness we may
overlook content"--the first may perhaps be ours, but the second should
always be obtainable.
The very familiar adage, "As the twig is bent so is the tree inclined,"
remains as true as ever; therefore "Guard well thy thoughts, for
thoughts are heard in Heaven."[212:A] Another writer very aptly declares
that "It is better to hammer and forge one's character than to dream
oneself into one"; while the old adage, "Keep good company and be one of
the number," is excellent advice, pithily put.
Tusser, some three hundred or more years ago, declared that
"The greatest preferments that childe we can giue,
Is learning and nurture, to traine him to liue."
It has been well said that "Ignorance is a voluntary misfortune," and
that "If the brain sows not corn it plants thistles." Were a farmer to
leave a field a year untilled, not only would the corn supply that it
might have yielded be lost, but the ground would produce in abundance
useless weeds that would scatter their seed on the wind over the whole
country-side; neither brain nor cornfield will remain neutral and
dormant; a crop of something or other is inevitable. "If a man empties
his purse," says the proverb, "into his head no man can take it from
him;" and other good adages are: "Not the studies, but the study, makes
the scholar"; "Inquirers who are always inquiring never learn anything";
"It is less painful to learn in youth than to be ignorant in age"; while
the doctrine of plain living and high thinking was admirably
foreshadowed in this: "Cater frugally for the body, but feed the mind
sumptuously"--an altogether excellent precept, and we must remember
that, when all is done, the best and most important part of a man's
education is that which he gives himself, and which fits him in this
great workshop of the world to use his tools to the best advantage, and
contribute something of value to the general store.
It is a wise counsel to "Read not books alone but men, and chiefly to be
careful to read oneself"--to take stock of oneself from time to time;
that youth should remember what seems too difficult then to realise,
that a day will come when youth has fled, when the demands of life will
continue, and the power to meet them will have weakened. Such proverbs
as these should be pondered over: "Reckless youth makes rueful age"; "If
youth knew what age would crave, it would both get and save"; "A young
man negligent, an old man necessitous." The same truth is put as
clearly, but not so lugubriously, in the quainter saying: "He that
saveth his dinner will have the more for his supper"--he that spares,
that is, when he is young may the better spend when he is old. We have
this, again, in a slightly varied and more intense form in the French,
"He sups ill who eats all at dinner."
When the youth goes forth into the world his knowledge of the trials
and temptations of life is small, while his faith in himself is great,
and he sadly needs, far more than he knows, guidance, human and divine.
What of counsel and of warning will our proverbs yield here?
The following precepts answer this weighty question, and all are rich in
wisdom and guidance:--"No one is mighty but he that conquers himself";
"As we sow the habit so we reap the character"; "Let others' shipwrecks
be your beacons"; "Careless watch invites vigilant foe"; "Every day is a
leaf in our history"; "We live in the body, not as the servant but as
the master"; "One vice is more expensive than many virtues"; "Consider
not pleasures as they come, but as they go"; "Wade not where you see no
bottom"; "The path of virtue is the path of peace"; "Clean glove may
hide soiled hand"; "Satan promises the best and pays the worst"; "Those
that would be kept from harm must keep out of harm's way"; "One bad
example spoils many good precepts"; "The day has eyes, the night has
ears"; "He who makes light of small faults will fall into great ones";
"He that cometh into needless danger dies the Devil's martyr." Each of
these will amply repay quiet pondering over.
We give two verses of a very striking poem from a manuscript of the
fifteenth century. It is entitled, "Man his own Woe," and is fifteen
verses long:
"I made covienaunte trewe to be
When I fiyrste crystened was,
I wente to the worlde, and turned fro Thee,
And folowede the fend and his trace.
Fro wrathe and enuye wolde I not passe,
With covetyse I was bawte also,
My flesh hadde his wyll, alas,
I wyte myselfe myne owene woo.
"Ryche manne a thefe ys another,
That of covetyse woll not slake,
What he with wronge begyle his brother,
In blysse ful sone shall he forsake.
Byfore God for thefte hit ys take,
All that wyth wronge he wynneth so;
But he the radure amends make
He shall wyte hymeself hys owen wo."
We have seen that rhymes are commonly used as a means of impressing
proverbs on the memory. The four couplets--one from Gower's "Confessio
Amantis"; one from Burns, from his "Tam O'Shanter"; one from "An Honest
Man's Fortune," written by John Fletcher three hundred years ago; and
the fourth from "The Lady's Dream" of Hood--that we now quote are
equally worth remembrance:
"Lo now, my son, what it is,
A man to caste his eyes amis."
"Pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed."
"Our acts are angels, for good or ill,
Our fatal shadows that walk by us still."
"Evil is wrought by want of thought,
As well as want of heart."
Other good proverbs for those at the commencement of life, are: that "A
man is valued as he makes himself valuable"; "Crises form not character,
but reveal it"; "He that finds it easy to repent will not find it hard
to sin"; "Wine neither keeps secrets nor carries out promises"; "Bacchus
has drowned more than Neptune"; and, happy truth, "Every slip is not a
fall." It must be remembered that, while a man may have enough of the
world to drag him down, he will never have enough to satisfy him--peace
and satisfaction being found in a quite other direction than what by a
strange misnomer is called "life." "A sound conscience is a triple fence
of steel," so "Better keep evil out than turn it out." "Character is
property," and "A good conscience makes an easy couch"; "Complaining is
a contempt upon oneself"; "Thanksgiving is good, thanks-living is
better."
Friends, true and false, have made their mark on our proverb store, and
counsels of encouragement and of warning are abundantly at our service.
How to recognise the true friend, how to detect the counterfeit article,
is invaluable knowledge, and if we could only at all times be as wise as
our rich mass of proverb-lore would fain have us to be, we should in
matters of friendship, and in most other things, make a very prosperous
voyage on the sea of life. One seems to detect several grades or
qualities of friendship in these adages. There is that, for instance,
which is unfailing, which in sickness and health, poverty or wealth, is
always true and real; then at the other end of the scale a sham article
that soon has all the gilt rubbed off; and then in between these a less
obvious failure, which has many of the marks of the real thing, and
which will stand by one bravely when all is going smoothly, but which
must not be put to any severe strain or it may snap. Then, again, we
detect another variety of the article, who appears to be merely some one
to be worked on, as, for example, "He is my friend that grindeth at my
mill"--who comes to our help in our necessity, lends us money, tools,
and so forth, and of whom we presently tire because he loses his
yielding properties, or who presently tires of us and our multitudinous
wants. Then there is the candid friend, who is theoretically such a
helpmate, but who in practice grows unbearable. This by no means
exhausts the types one meets with, and we soon find that "friend" is a
noun of multitude and stands for many things, from pure gold down to
the veriest brass or pinchbeck.
The touchy people who are easily offended are not the people to make
friends, or to keep them long if they do make them. "Who would be loved
must love," or, with a slightly different shade of meaning, "That you
may be loved, forget not to be lovable." To love and to be lovable are
both essential if you would be loved. "A man is little the better for
liking himself if no one else like him," since self-sufficiency means
selfishness, and love does not prosper on that. A very good hint against
selfishness is found in the Spanish, "Who eats his dinner alone must
saddle his horse alone," for no one will go out of their way to help
curmudgeons. It is an excellent maxim, too, that "He who receives a good
turn should never forget it; he who does one should never remember it."
All have not the tact of him whose praises Moore sings:
"Whose wit in the combat as gentle as bright
Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade."
An old adage says, "Leave jesting ere it ceaseth to please"; while
another warns us that "A joke never gains over an enemy, but often loses
a friend."[217:A] Some folk have a bantering manner that is disastrous,
and if not held sternly in check will presently turn a warm-hearted
friendship into indifference and repulsion.
The part of the candid friend is a very difficult one; nothing short of
transparent honesty and abounding sympathy will make it possible. "Few
there are," says the adage, "that will endure a true friend"; while
another runs, "I will be thy friend, but not thy vice's friend," but we
should imagine that the recipient would scarcely take kindly to such a
remark. "Better a little chiding than a great deal of heart-break," but
few can bear it. On the other hand, "Toleration should spring from our
charity, and not from our indifference." "Reproach is usually
honest--the same cannot always be said of praise"; but the happiest
proverb is, "Charity is greater than all." Those who live their lives in
the light of that will need no lessons in the art of friendship, but
will be already in the midst of friends, and themselves of that happy
company.
Some people's notion of acquaintance seems to be what they can get out
of it, and though they talk freely of "my friend," such folk have little
notion of friendship. The following proverbs, though not exclusively
theirs, point to this state of mind: "A friend in need is a friend
indeed," "Short reckonings make long friends," "The begging of a
courtesy is selling of liberty," "He is not charitable that will not be
so privately," "Lenders have better memories than borrowers," "He is my
friend that succoureth me, not he that pitieth me," "Promises may get
friends, but performance keeps them," "He that gives his heart will not
deny his money," "He loseth his thanks who promiseth and delayeth."
Chaucer, in the "Romant of the Rose," writes:
"Soth to saie
Of him that loueth trew and well
Frendship is more than is cattell,
For frend in Court aie better is
Then penny in purse certis";
while one of our old proverbs declares, "As a man is friended, so the
law is ended." This seems to imply that in the case of the man who has
friends on the bench Justice will be a little blinder than usual, but it
is evident that an unknown and friendless culprit must necessarily start
under a disadvantage.
The following proverbs we see we have classed in our rough notes as
pertaining to "friends you have not proved,"[219:A] and this
classification may very well stand. It includes such sayings as "Friends
got without desert will be lost without cause," "A friend is never known
till one have need," "Before you make a friend eat a bushel of salt with
him." Heywood seems to have got very near to the root of the matter in
these lines of his:
"Many kinsfolke and few friends, some folke say:
But I find many kinsfolke and friend not one.
Folke say it hath been sayd many yeares since gone
Prove thy friend ere thou hast neede: but in deede
A friend is never knone till a man have neede.
Before I had neede my most present foes
Seemed my best friends, but thus the world goes."
The experience, we suppose, of all men, if ever this testing time really
comes, is a twofold surprise--how entirely some they had trusted failed
them, and how splendidly others came out of whom it was not expected.
Seneca declares that "Our happiness depends upon the choice of our
company," and we may, we suppose, take it that we all of us get about
such friends as we deserve. "Our friends are the mirror in which we see
ourselves." Other excellent adages pertaining to friendship are these:
"Be slow in choosing a friend, slower yet in changing";[219:B]
"Friendship multiplies joy and divides grief"; "Wherever you see your
friend trust yourself"; "The way to have a friend is to be one";
"Hearts may agree though heads differ"; "Wise and good men are friends,
others are but companions"; "Search thy friend for his virtues, thyself
for thy faults"; "Love sought is good, but given unsought is better";
"God divideth man into men, that so they may help each other"; "A man is
valued as he makes himself valuable." The Spaniards declare that "Eggs
of an hour, bread of a day, wine of a year, a friend of thirty years,
are best."
"The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel";
and in another passage Shakespeare writes of kindly
"Words of so sweet breath compounded,
As made the things more rich";
and it certainly appears to us that if we had reached the lowest depth
of destitution we would yet rather have the gracious inability to help
that some would express to us than the brusque brutality of some donors.
When one would seek fine thoughts admirably presented one naturally
turns in the first place to Shakespeare, but Chaucer makes an excellent
second. How charming this line from "The Clerke's Tale," "He is gentil
that doeth gentil dedis," and this passage again from the "Romant of the
Rose":
"Loue of frendshippe also there is,
Which maketh no man dou amis,
Of wil knitte betwixt two,
That wol not breke for wele ne wo."
Tusser, in his quaint directness, says in his "Five Hundred Points of
Good Husbandrie":
"The quiet friend all one in worde and dede
Great comfort is, like ready golde at nede
With bralling fooles that wrall for euerie wrong
Firme friendship neuer can continue long.
Oft times a friend is got with easie cost,
Which vsed euill is oft as quickly lost.
Hast thou a friend, as heart may wish at will?
Then vse him so to haue his friendship still.
Wouldst haue a friend, wouldst knowe what friend is best?
Haue God thy friend, who passeth all the rest."
The following sayings of warning and experience have their valuable
lessons:--"Trust not new friend nor old enemy"; "Though the sore may be
healed yet the scar may remain";[221:A] "Small wounds, if many, may be
mortal"; "Vexation is rather taken than given"; "At the gate which
suspicion enters friendship departs"; "False friends are worse than open
enemies"; "He that ceased to be a friend never was a good one"; "An
unbidden guest knoweth not where to sit"; "All are not friends that
speak us fair"; "Every one's friend, no one's"; "A friend that you buy
will be bought from you."
An old saw bluntly says, "To make an enemy lend money, and ask for it
again"; and it is certainly an excellent rule to have as little to do
with money matters as one can help with one's friends and relatives. To
appeal for help and to be refused, to lend and to see very little chance
of repayal, to receive and to be under a heavy sense of obligation, are
all destructive of frank and hearty friendship. Chaucer declares that
"His herte is hard that woll not weke
When men of meeknesse him beseeke."
An excellent man, most kindly in all his dealings, told us that he never
lent money. The borrower is ordinarily in such straits that he has
little chance of ever repaying. If he never intends to pay he is a
knave,[222:A] and if he has more honourable thought he is crushed by
the burden of the debt. Anyone who came to our excellent friend with a
true and touching story was sympathetically received, and his request
for the temporary loan of twenty pounds promptly declined! As an
alternative he was offered a somewhat smaller sum, the half or, mayhap,
the quarter of this, as a free gift, which he never failed to accept
joyfully. In one of the Harleian manuscripts, dating from the reign of
Edward IV., the writer's experience is a very common one, and his
decision sound:
"I wold lend but I ne dare,
I have lent and I will beware
When I lant I had a frynd,
When I hym asked he was unkynd.
Thus of my frynd I made my foo,
Therefore darre I lend no moo."
The writer was evidently a kindly man, desiring to do the best he could,
and he touchingly appeals to us not to judge him harshly:
"I pray yo of your gentilnesse
Report for no unkyndnesse."
Some one has very wisely remarked that many of the disappointments of
life arise from our mistaking acquaintances for friends, and then when
some little testing incident arises they break under the strain.
"Prosperity makes friends, adversity proves them." One sarcastic adage
hath it that "Friends are like fiddle-strings: they must not be screwed
too tight"; but the Scotch say, and justly, that "He that's no my friend
at a pinch is no my friend ava." Some centuries ago, human nature being
then evidently very similar to what it is to-day, a wise man wrote: "If
thou wouldst get a friend, prove him first, and be not hasty to credit
him. For some man is a friend for his own occasion, and will not abide
in the day of thy trouble; and there is a friend who, being turned to
enmity and strife, will discover thy reproach; again, some friend is a
companion at the table, and will not continue in the day of thy
affliction."
In Chaucer's "Romaunt of the Rose," we find the poet using the
expression, "Farewel fieldfare," a valediction on summer friends that,
like the wild and migratory fieldfare, take to themselves wings and
depart. An old rhyming adage declares that "In time of prosperity
friends will be plenty, in time of adversity not one in twenty"; or, to
quote Tusser:
"Where welthines floweth, no friendship can lack,
Whom pouertie pincheth, hath friendship as slack";
while Goldsmith, it will be remembered, bitterly sums all up in,
"What is friendship but a name,
A charm that lulls to sleep,
A shade that follows wealth and fame,
But leaves the wretch to weep."
Another adage declares that "Compliments cost nothing but may be dearly
bought," while another candidly warns, "I cannot be your friend and your
flatterer too." The flatterer has ordinarily "an axe to grind,"
"His fetch is to flatter, to get what he can,
His purpose once gotten, a fig for thee then."
In the "Rambler" No. 155, Johnson sapiently remarks, "Flattery, if its
operations be nearly examined, will be found to owe its acceptance, not
to our ignorance, but to our knowledge of our failures, and to delight
us rather as it consoles our wants than displays our possessions."
Swift asserts that
"'Tis an old maxim in the schools,
That flattery's the food of fools,
Yet now and then your men of wit
Will condescend to take a bit."
Bacon tells us, however, that "There is no such flatterer as is a man's
selfe, and there is no such remedie against flatterie of a man's selfe
as the libertie of a friend." It has been said that "A friend's frown is
worth more than a fool's smile," but a cynical writer has affirmed, with
some little truth, that "Most of our misfortunes are more supportable
than the comments of our friends upon them," and it was long since
discovered that "Whoso casteth a stone at the birds frayeth them away,
and he that upbraideth his friend breaketh friendship." The duty of
remonstrance is one of the most difficult that the friend can undertake,
and "Save, save, O save me from the candid friend!" is the cry of
Canning in "The New Morality," a cry that many have been inclined to
echo.
Our ancestors, with blunt directness, asserted that "Fish and guests
stink in three days," while the Arabs have the picturesque proverb, "A
thousand raps, but no welcome"--a pertinacious hammering at the closed
door but no response from within; a fruitless endeavour to thrust an
intimacy on those who do not desire it.
We have seen that the friend lost is never really recovered and may
become very readily an implacable enemy. Shakespeare warns us to "Trust
not him that hath once broken faith," and we most of us know by
experience how true are the lines of Dryden:
"Forgiveness to the injured doth belong,
But they ne'er pardon who have done the wrong."
The ancient Romans had a proverb that the French have adopted in the
words, "Jeter de l'huile sur le feu." We have no identical English
proverb, but its meaning is clearly a reference to those evil spirits
who foment a quarrel, add fuel to the fire, irritate rather than soothe,
and who have no part or lot in the blessing promised to the
peace-makers.
The following adages are here worthy of our consideration:--"He that
does you an ill turn will not forgive you"; "Pardon others often,
thyself seldom"; "We are bound to forgive an enemy, but we are not bound
to trust him";[225:A] "Better ride alone than have a bad man's company";
"Haste is the beginning of wrath, and its end repentance"; "It is wiser
to prevent a quarrel than to revenge it"; "If thou wouldst be borne
with, bear with others." To these we may add the oft-used saw, "The
absent are always wrong," without at all endorsing its truth. The absent
are often quite as right as the other people, and are merely unable
through absence to protect themselves from defamation.
Poverty and riches naturally find a place in proverb-lore. "Poverty,"
says an old author, "is no crime, and it is no credit"; but the truth
is, it is impossible to generalise quite so dogmatically as this--for
poverty may be a crime when a lazy ne'er-do-well allows his wife and
children to come to rags, and, on the other hand, it may be a credit
when a man has done his best and foresworn all the dirty little tricks
that have enriched his trade rivals. It is sometimes too readily and
sentimentally assumed that poverty is itself a benediction; hence such
sayings as "The poor are God's receivers and the angels are His
auditors," but the real state of the case is excellently well put in the
proverb, "There are God's poor, and the devil's poor."
"Honour and shame from no condition rise;
Act well your part, there all the honour lies."
Everywhere in life, some one has admirably said, the true question is
not what we gain, but rather what we do. "Poverty need not be shame, but
being ashamed of it is," poverty of spirit being a more distressing
state of things than emptiness of pocket.
Let us turn to the wisdom of those who have gone before us, and see what
teaching for our edification we may find. "Nothing is to be got without
pains except poverty"; "Dependence is a poor trade to follow";
"Opportunities do not generally wait"; "Enough is a plenty, too much is
pride"; "The groat is ill-saved which shames its master"; "Providence
provides for the provident"; "To bear is to conquer"; "Poverty craves
much, but avarice more"; "Gain ill-gotten is loss"; "Poverty is the
mother of all arts"; "Content is the true philosopher's stone"; "If
honesty cannot, knavery must not"; "Poor and content is rich";
"Flatterers haunt not cottages"; "Thrive honestly, or remain poor."
In a manuscript of the fifteenth century we found the following
excellent precepts amongst many others, the whole being much too long to
quote:
"If thou be visite with pouerte
Take it not to hevyle
For he that sende the adversite
May turn the agen to wele.
Purpose thy selfe in charite
Demene thy worschip in honeste
Let not nygardschip haue the maystre
For schame that may befalle
Faver not meche thy ryeches,
Set not lytel by worthynes
Kepe thyn hert from dowblenes
For any manner thyng."
Another budget of excellent precepts will commend itself to the
thoughtful reader in the following:--"He who buys what he does not want
will want what he cannot buy"; "Winter finds out what summer has laid
up"; "Sleeping master makes servant lazy"; "Thrush paid for is better
than turkey owed for"; "Better small fish than empty dish"; "He that
borrows binds himself with his neighbour's rope"; "A man must plough
with such oxen as he hath"; "He goes like a top, no longer than he is
whipped"; "Better half a loaf than no bread"; "Better do it than wish it
done"; "He that goes borrowing goes sorrowing"; "Better say here it is,
than here it was"; "If you light the fire at both ends the middle will
take care of itself."
Some three hundred years ago an old writer thought out what he called
"the ladder to thrift," and these were some of his hints:
"To take thy calling thankfully
And shun the path to beggary.
To grudge in youth no drudgery,
To come by knowledge perfectly.
To plow profit earnestlie,
But meddle not with pilferie.
To hold that thine is lawfullie
For stoutness or for flatterie.
To suffer none live idlelie
For feare of idle knaverie.
To answere stranger ciuilie,
But show him not thy secresie.
To vse no friend deceitfully,
To offer no man villeny.
To learne how foe to pacifie,
But trust him not too trustilie.
To meddle not with vsurie
Nor lend thy monie foolishlie.
To loue thy neighbor neighborly
And shew him no discurtesy.
To learne to eschew ill company
And such as liue dishonestlie."
Though quaintly put--and their quaintness is accentuated by spelling
such as would not at all pass muster in these iron-bound days of
examinations for high and low, rich and poor--these halting couplets
contain a full modicum of excellent common-sense.
It is not really the man whose possessions are few who is poor as he
whose desires are great, and it has been well said that if we help some
one who is worse off than ourselves we soon realise that we are more
affluent than we thought. The helping to bear another's burden does not
add to our own, but lightens it.
The French say, "Vent au visage rend un homme sage," a proverb fairly
paralleled in an English adage, "Adversity makes a man wise, not rich."
A quaint and serviceable proverb, quoted by Ray and others, though it
has now passed quite out of use, is the assertion that "A bad bush is
better than the open field," whether in sultry sunshine, piercing gale,
or heavy downpour. It is better to have some friends, even though they
can do little or nothing for us, than to be thrown quite destitute on a
pitiless world; and it is wiser to make the best of what is than to
scorn the small amount of help that it is able to give.
Wealth has its store of proverb-wisdom even in more abundance than
poverty has, and it is only reasonable that this should be so, for it
is a position of great responsibility, and its proper use requires all
the wisdom that a man possesses, and sometimes, as we see, more than he
possesses. Let us turn, then, to the precepts of the past and see what
of value we can find in them for the present and the future. The
following are a few of these:--"If a good man thrive, all will thrive
with him";[229:A] "Riches rather enlarge than satisfy appetite";
"Possess your money, but do not let it possess you"; "Reputation is
often measured by the acre"; "Great spenders are bad lenders";
"Liberality is not giving largely, but giving wisely"; "One may buy gold
too dearly"; "He gives but little who gives only from a sense of duty";
"No estate can make him rich that hath a poor heart"; "Lavishness is not
generosity"; "Great receipt renders us liable to great account"; "Wealth
is not his that gets it, but his that enjoys it";[229:B] "Worth has been
under-rated ever since wealth was over-rated"; "Covetous people always
think themselves in want"; "He is alone rich who has contentment"; "God
reaches us good things by our own hands"; "Slow help is very little help
at all"; "Bounty is more commended than imitated";[229:C] "Spare well
that you may spend well"; "The liberal hand gathers."[230:A] It has
been said that "Some men give of their means and others of their
meanness," and the statement has copious experience either way to fully
justify it.
Plutarch declared "E tribus optimis rebus tres pessimæ oriuntur,"--that
from three things excellent three very bad things were produced; truth
begetting hatred, familiarity contempt, and success envy. Another old
Roman saying is, "An dives sit, omnes quærunt, nemo an bonus"--all want
to know if a man be rich, but no one troubles to inquire if he be good;
yet "Great possession is not necessarily great enjoyment," and the
moralist warns us--
"Put not in this world too much trust,
The riches whereof will turne to dust."[230:B]
"As a means of grace prosperity has never been much of a success." The
Spaniards say, "Honor y provecho no capen en un saco": "Honour and
profit cannot be contained in the same bag," rather too sweeping a
statement. Another Spanish adage is, "El que trabaja y madra, hila oro":
"He who labours and strives spins gold," reaps the reward of his
industry. The French say, in praise of the thriftiness that is so
characteristic of them, that "Le petit gain remplit la bourse": "Light
gains make a full purse." Those who sell dearly sell little, and the
small margin of profit oft repeated is the more advantageous. The
Spanish proverb affirms that "He who would be rich in a year gets hanged
in half a year," the pace being too great for honesty to keep up with.
Another maxim of thrift is that "If you make not much of threepence you
will never be worth a groat." The moral atmosphere, however, is getting
a little stifling, and we are reminded of the lines of Gower on the
over-frugal man:
"For he was grutchende euermore,
There was wyth hym none other fare
But for to pinche and for to spare
Of worldes mucke to gette encres."
Let us "Take care of the pence that the pounds may take care of
themselves,"[231:A] but having got the pounds let us remember that
"Judicious saving affords the means of judicious giving," and that "The
best way to expand the chest is to have a large heart in it." "Money is
a good servant but an ill master," and "He is not fit for riches who is
afraid to use them"; "To a good spender God is treasurer."
Woman's influence on mankind is the subject of many proverbs, some of
them kindly enough in tone, but the greater number of them characterised
by satire and bitter feeling. As a sample of the first method of
treating the subject may be instanced the testimony borne by this old
rhyming adage: "Two things do prolong thy life--a quiet heart and a
loving wife." It has been truly said that "A man's best fortune, or his
worst, is a wife," and another excellent saying is this: "Men make
houses--women make homes."[231:B]
Another wise old saw tells us that a man should "Choose a wife rather
by ear than eye," judging her, not by personal charms, that are at best
evanescent,[232:A] but by the kindliness of her nature and by the
testimony of her worth that others declare. "Beauty," we are warned, "is
but skin-deep," a truth that the old moralists and painters sometimes
made more of with their paraphernalia of skulls and other symbols of
mortality than was altogether seemly. St Chrysostom writes: "When thou
seest a fair and beautiful person, a comely woman, having bright eyes
and merry countenance, a pleasant grace, bethink with thyself that it is
but earth that thou seest."[232:B]
Another piece of sound proverbial teaching is this: "Choose your wife on
a Saturday, not Sunday," that is to say, be drawn to her rather by what
you see of her industry and power of management than be merely
fascinated by a triumph of the milliner's art; choose her rather when
her sweetness of temper carries her smoothly through turmoil and worry
than when the Sunday rest gives no test of her power to stand this
strain. Saturday manners may be very different to Sunday manners.
"Good husewife good fame hath of best in the towne,
Ill husewife ill name hath of euerie clowne."
Amongst popular proverbs we find the cautious--"Marry in haste and
repent at leisure,"[233:A] and "Love and lordship like not fellowship,"
and the advice--"Marry for love, but only love that which is lovely." It
is very gracefully true, too, that "When the good-man's from home the
good-wife's table is soon spread," while there is quaint sarcasm in
this: "Next to no wife a good wife is best";[233:B] and the value of
influence is brought before us in the adage, "A good Jack makes a good
Jill."
In Torrington churchyard we find the following high testimony to a
wife:--
"She was--my words are wanting to say what--
Think what a woman should be--she was that";
while in Chaucer's "Shipmanne's Tale" we find the following quaint
appeal:--
"For which, my dere wife, I thee beseke,
As be to every wight buxom and meke,
And for to kepe our good be curious,
And honestly governe wel our hous."
The following Italian proverb is a very happy one, and accords entirely
with general experience:--"La donna savia è all' impensata, alla pensata
è matta": "Women are wise offhand and fools on reflection"; while the
advice of the Spaniard, though ungracious enough in its utterance, is
valuable--"El consejo de la muger es poco, y quieu no le toma es loco":
"A woman's counsel is no great thing, but he who does not take it is a
fool." An old English proverb goes so far as to declare that "A man must
ask his wife's leave to thrive," and there is not a little wisdom in the
counsel. A very ungracious proverb, indeed, is the German--"Es giebt nur
zwei gute Weiber auf der Welt: die Eine ist gestorben, die Andere nicht
zu finden": "There are only two good women in the world; one of them is
dead, and the other is not to be found."
Some would tell us that marriages are made in heaven,[234:A] but a
sapient saw reminds us that "There is no marriage in heaven, neither is
there always heaven in marriage."
Gossip, and the mischief-making that may too often accrue from imprudent
loquacity, have at all times been so commonly attributed to the fair sex
that we naturally find many such proverbs as these: "Silence is not the
greatest vice of a woman"; "A woman conceals what she does not know";
"He that tells his wife news is but newly married." The words of Hotspur
will be recalled:
"Constant you are,
But yet a woman, and for secrecy
No lady closer; for I well believe
Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know."
The writer of Ecclesiasticus declares that "As the climbing up a sandy
way is to the feet of the aged, so is a wife full of words to a quiet
man"; while in a MS. of the time of Henry V. we find the following
quaint statement:--
"Two wymen in one howse,
Two cattes and one mowse,
Two dogges and one bone
Maye never accorde in one."
Udall writes that "As the kynde of women is naturally geuen to the vyce
of muche bablynge there is nothyng wherein theyr womanlynesse is more
honestlie garnyshed than with sylence"; but a Welsh proverb declares
that "A woman's strength is in her tongue,"[235:A] and we can scarcely
be surprised that she is at times reluctant to forego the use of this
weapon.
The Spaniards sarcastically assert that "He who is tired of a quiet life
gets him a wife"; and Solomon, we recall, declares that "It is better to
dwell in a corner of the house-top than with a brawling woman"; while
another proverb bitterly, but truly, declares that "He fasts enough
whose wife scolds all dinner-time"; and yet another hath it that "He
that can abide a curst wife need not fear any"; so that an old writer
breaks out:
"Why then I see to take a shrew
(As seldome other there be few)
Is not the way to thriue:
So hard a thing I spie it is,
The good to chuse, the shrew to mis,
That feareth me to wiue."
This bitter feeling against womankind is seen not only in our proverbs,
but very largely also in epitaphs, as for example:
"Here lies my wife, a sad slattern and shrew,
If I said I respected her I should lie too."
"Here lies my wife, and, Heaven knows,
Not less for mine than her repose."
"Here lies my poor wife, much lamented;
She is happy, and I am contented."
"Here rests my spouse; no pair through life
So equal lived as we did;
Alike we shared perpetual strife,
Nor knew I rest till she did."
"Here lies my poor wife,
Without bed or blanket;
But dead as a door nail:
God be thanked."
At Prittlewell Church a man buried his two wives in one grave, and then
placed over their remains this callous rigmarole:
"Were it my choice that either of the twaine
Might be restor'd to me to enjoy again,
Which should I choose?
Well, since I know not whether,
I'll mourn for the loss of both,
But wish for neither."[236:A]
On the tomb of a man at Bilston we get the other side, as the widow
selected as a text the words: "If any man ask you, why do you loose him,
then shall ye say unto him, because the Lord hath need of him." Those
who recall the occasion on which these words were first used will see
that her husband was, by implication, an ass.
Mere loquacity is satirised in the two following:--
"Here lies, returned to Clay,
Miss Arabella Young,
Who, on the first of May,
Began to hold her tongue."
"Beneath this silent stone is laid
A noisy, antiquated maid,
Who from her cradle talked till death,
And ne'er before was out of breath."
Other proverbs that deal with womankind are the following:--"He that has
a wife has strife"; "Of all tame beasts sluts are the worst"; "If a
woman were as little as good, a peascod would make her a gown and a
hood"; "He that loses his wife and a farthing hath great loss of the
farthing"; "Every man can tame a shrew but he that hath her"; "Lips,
however rosy, must be fed"; "Women, wind, and fortune soon change." The
feminine readiness to take refuge in tears is responsible for the
following cynical adage:--"It is no more sin to see a woman weep than to
see a goose go barefoot."[237:A] Another well-known proverb is that "No
mischief in the world is done, but a woman is always one"; while the
French say, if any inexplicable trouble breaks out, "Cherchez la
femme"--in the assured belief that a woman is in some way or another at
the bottom of it. Lamartine, on the other hand, declares that "There is
a woman at the beginning of all great things." There is considerable
truth in both statements, antagonistic as they are.
In the household where the unfortunate husband has allowed the control
to slip into the hands of his wife, "The grey mare is the better
horse." The French call this "Le marriage d'epervier"--a hawk's wedding,
because the female hawk is the bigger bird. In "A Treatyse Shewing and
Declaring the Pryde and Abuse of Women Now a Days," c. 1550, we find:
"What! shall the graye mayre be the better horse,
And be wanton styll at home?
Naye, then, welcome home, Syr Woodcocke,
Ye shall be tamed anone."