If the Turk has been qualified as “unspeakable,” he is very far from
being inarticulate. Strange as it may seem to those who have formed
their opinion of him from hearsay, it is not the less true that he
is commonly a good conversationalist, and can say well and pointedly
what he has got to say, with a wealth of illustration in anecdote,
quotation, and proverb. The latter form commends itself especially to
the sententious Turkish mind. The synthetic form of the language, too,
secures brevity and conciseness, and opportunities are afforded for
those constant assonances or rhyming-vowels which are so dear to the
Oriental.
On looking over a note-book containing several hundred Turkish
proverbs, taken down in the course of reading and conversation, or
borrowed from a collection made at the Oriental Academy at Vienna,
the writer has amused himself by grouping them roughly under certain
heads, so as to illustrate some aspects of the national character and
surroundings.
But first it may be interesting to remark how many well-known English
and other European proverbs have their exact counterpart in Turkish.
How far are these to be accounted for by contact with, or conquest of,
Indo-European races? Or has it been a case of “les beaux esprits se
rencontrent”? For instance, we find “You should not look a gift-horse
in the mouth,” in exactly the same words, as well as “He that is born
to be hanged will never be drowned,” the Turkish version having the
advantage of being expressed in two words! The change of words is but
slight in “Troubled waters suit the fisher,” “One _flower_ does not
make summer,” and “The robe does not make the dervish;” while in Turkey
it is not pot that says to kettle, but negro to negro, that his face
is black. We are disposed to prefer “The nail saved the shoe, the shoe
the horse, the horse the man, the man the kingdom,” to our somewhat
lumbering “For want of a nail the shoe was lost,” &c. “Wake not the
sleeping dog,” has as a corollary “Step not on the sleeping serpent;”
and we are warned that there is “No rose without a thorn, nor love
without a rival.”
One instance in which our proverbial wisdom is opposed to the Turkish
is to be found in the expression “to kill two birds with one stone.”
The attempt to do this is condemned by sundry proverbs such as “One
arrow does not bring down two birds,” and “You cannot knock down nine
walnuts with one stone.”
Often we are reminded of Scriptural proverbs and aphorisms. “Nothing
unheard of in the world” sounds Solomonian enough; while “Out with the
eye that profits me not,” “The negro does not whiten with washing,” and
“That which thou sowest, that also shalt thou reap,” are strikingly
like New Testament teaching. Again and again we find expressed in other
words lessons of charity, considerateness, and justice, that would
not be unworthy of a Christian teacher, as, “The stranger’s prayer is
heard;” “The heart’s testimony is stronger than a thousand witnesses;”
“Among the blind, close your eyes;” “In truth is right;” “Justice is
half religion;” “Neighbor’s right, God’s right.”
The heading under which, perhaps, the largest number of proverbs can
be grouped, is that of opportune speech and silence. If the Turk, as
has been said, talks well, he also knows how to hold his tongue. He
looks down with the greatest contempt on the idle chatterer, and does
not even think that good-manners require him to make small-talk when
he has nothing to say. In fact, when on a visit to a well-bred Turk,
with whom you have no common subjects of interest to discuss, after
exhausting those suggested by politeness—his health, your own, that of
your family, the weather, and the water (a most interesting topic in
the East)—you may safely fall back upon that golden silence which their
proverb, like ours, rates above silver speech. Hear his comments on the
chatterer:—“There is no ass but brays;” “The dog barks, the caravan
passes;” “Fool is he who alone talks, and is his only listener;” “The
fool wears his heart on his tongue, the wise man keeps his tongue in
his heart;” and “Many words, an unsound heart.” He warns us of the
mischief of evil-speaking,—“The knife’s wound heals, the tongue’s
never;” “The tongue slays more than the sword;” and “The tongue is
boneless, but it breaks bones.” Again, he feels keenly the danger of
free speech under a corrupt and despotic rule; while he extols honesty
and good-faith, and generally condemns lying. The latter is condoned in
certain cases, for “Some lies are better than truth,” and we may “Lie,
but with measure.” The _suppressio veri_ is even strongly recommended,
for is not the “truth-teller banished out of nine cities?” while “He
who holds his tongue saves his head,” and “There is no better answer
than this, ‘I know not, I saw not.’”
But to turn to something pleasanter, we will quote a few sayings still
familiar in our Turk’s mouth, which have survived the corruption of
the Palace and official Kings, and seem still to breathe the hardy
and independent spirit of the old days, when courage and enterprise
were the only passports to the highest places in a conquering empire.
Then it could be said that “The horse is to him who mounts, the sword
to him who girds it on,” “The brave man’s word is a coat of mail,”
“Fortune is not far from the brave man’s head,” “The hero is known
on the battle-field,” and “Fear not to-morrow’s mischance.” Who but
a conquering race could have produced such a proverb as “Power on my
head, or the raven on my corpse;” and who can fail to hear a true ring
in “Peasant erect is taller than noble on bended knee,” or “I am the
slave of him who regards me; the king of him who disregards me?”
Almsgiving is creditable, for “The hand which gives is above that which
takes;” and it offers temporal advantages as well as spiritual. In this
world “No one cuts the hand that gives,” and “What thou givest that
shalt thou take with thee” [to the next]. But beware of accepting alms
or favors if you would keep your self-respect, and “Accept the largess
of thy friend as if thou wert an enemy.”
Great is the power of wealth; “Even the mountains fear the rich man.”
It covers a multitude of failings, and averts many ills. “If a man’s
money is white, no matter if his face be black.” “The knife cuts not
hand of gold.” But then the disadvantages and dangers of it in a land
where empty treasuries are filled by the suppression of a few rich men,
and the confiscation of their property! Truly the _vacuus viator_ has
the better part where brigands swarm. “Not even a thousand men in armor
can strip a naked man.” Our Turk is a man of few wants,—pilaff, coffee,
and tobacco are enough for him, and so he will rest contented in the
“Health that is better than fortune,” sagely reflecting that “A big
head has a big ache,” that “He who has many vineyards has many cares,”
and congratulating himself if he can say, “My money is little, my head
without strife.” He is not likely to make a fortune in business, being
destitute of the enterprise, as well as of the sharpness and hardness,
necessary to success. “The bazaar knows neither father nor mother,”
and our easy-going friend has a great regard for these domestic ties.
Besides, his religion forbids him either to speculate or to put out
money at interest, although he sometimes avoids this prohibition by
the clumsy expedient of a fictitious sale, or a “present” taken by the
lender.
It is a pity that his rulers should not have profited by his
experiences of debt. “Poor without debts is better than Prince,”
“A thousand cares do not pay one debt,” and “Creditors have better
memories than debtors,” are explicit enough, but, perhaps, were not
supposed to apply to Government loans.
We find some sound advice on the subject of friendship. Do not expect
your friend to be a paragon,—“Who seeks a faultless friend, rests
friendless.” But when you have found him, keep him,—“Old friend, old
bath,” you will do better to change neither; and if he is “a true
friend, he is better than a relation.” On the other hand, avoid the
British error of underrating your foe; he is always dangerous. “Water
sleeps, the enemy wakes,” and “Be thine enemy an ant, see in him an
elephant,” for “A thousand friends are few, one foe many.”
The references to woman are as ungallant as they are unjust. She is
to be treated as a child, and as such contemptuously pardoned for her
shortcomings. “You should lecture neither child nor woman;” it would be
waste of time. Her intelligence, too, is underrated, “her hair is long,
her wits short!” It is she who as a mother “makes the house, and mars
it,” and she is classed with good wine as “a sweet poison.” But it must
be admitted that in this want of gallantry the Turk is far surpassed by
the Persian, who says “The dog is faithful, woman never.”
The lover is regarded as a lunatic, unfit for the society of his
fellows. “If you are in love, fly to the mountains,” for “Lover and
king brook no companion.” He is “blind,” and distance is nothing to
him; for him, “Bagdad is not far,” and the only cures for his malady
are “travel and patience.”
A word of advice to those about to marry. “Marry below you, but do not
marry your daughter above you;” and “Choose cloth by its edge, and a
wife by her mother.” It is natural that we should find many references
to that submission which is at the root of Islam. Sometimes we find the
idea without reference to the Deity, as in the cases, “When fate comes
the eye of wisdom is blind,” “No one eats another’s destined portion,”
and “What will come, will come, willy nilly;” but more often he is
directly invoked. His will is fate, “Whom he slays not, man slays not,”
“Who calls on Him is not abandoned,” “He delays, but neglects not,”
provides for the helpless and “builds the blind bird’s nest;” and so we
should address ourselves to Him, “asking God for what we want, not his
servant.” If you apply to the latter, you may be disappointed. Even the
minister of religion is chary of his assistance. “Food from the Imam’s
house, tears from the dead man’s eye,”—you are as likely to get one as
the other. Sometimes, too, we meet with a small touch of scepticism, as
when we are told, “First tie-up your donkey, _then_ recommend him to
God;” and sometimes a cry of black despair, “Happiest he who dies in
the cradle.”
Let us conclude this hasty sketch with a few miscellaneous proverbs,
remarkable for point or picturesqueness. “The fish stinks from the
head” is often quoted in these days of Ottoman decay, in allusion to
the bad example which comes from above. We have heard the incapacity
for action which is engendered in Turkish rulers by the enforced
seclusion of their youth commented on with “Who stays at home, loses
his cap in the crowd.” The difficulties of equality,—“You are master,
and I am master; who will groom the horse?” On an impostor,—“The empty
sack won’t stand upright.” “_Qui trop embrasse, mal étreint_,” is
rendered by “Two water-melons won’t fit under one arm.” “Old brooms
are thrown on the roof,” may be taken to apply to the promotion of
superannuated fogies. Your hangers-on profit by your success,—“When you
climb a tree your shoes go up too.” The higher you are the worse you
fall, for “There is a cure for him who falls from horse or donkey-back,
but a pick-axe (to dig his grave) for him who falls from a camel.” Let
us hope that this proverb, in its literal sense, may never be justified
in the persons of our gallant Camel Corps in the Soudan. Three proverbs
on the donkey, exemplifying—the useful guest, “They asked the donkey to
the wedding, water or wood was wanting;” the power of hope, “Die not,
my donkey; summer is coming and clover will grow;” and the folly of
exposing oneself to needless criticism, “Don’t cut your donkey’s tail
in public; some will say, ‘It is too long;’ others, ‘It is too short.’”
And, lastly, as an instance in which the jingle of the original may
be reproduced in English,—“The mannerly man learns manners of the
mannerless.”—_The Spectator._