PROVERBS AND PITHY SAYINGS.
Shut off, as they are, from the rest of the world, like fish in a well,
the Coreans nevertheless have coined a fair share of homely wisdom,
which finds ready circulation in their daily speech. Their proverbs not
only bear the mint-mark of their origin, but reflect truly the image
and superscription of those who send them forth. Many, indeed, of their
current proverbs and pithy expressions are of Japanese or Chinese
origin, but those we have selected are mainly of peninsular birth, and
have the flavor of the soil.
Do the Coreans place the seat of wisdom as they do the point of
vaccination, in the nose? They ask, “Who has a nose three feet long?”
which means, “If one is embarrassed, how can he put others at ease?”
Evidently they have a wholesome regard for that member. A “nose of
iron” describes an opinionated man and suggests unlimited “cheek.” A
common expression of the Christians, meaning to go to church and pray,
is “to see the long nose of the father”—that feature of the French
priest’s face being looked upon with awe as the seat of wisdom.
Between the rivals, Japan and China, Corea probably sees herself in
this proverb of the unhappy cur that wanders boneless between two
kitchens—the cook in each supposing it has been fed by the other. “The
dog which between two monasteries gets nothing.”
Corea’s isolation is “like a fish in a well,” or “like a hermit in the
market-place.” They say of a secluded villager, “He knows nothing
beyond the place which he inhabits.”
“One stick to ten blind men,” is something very precious.
“The cock of the village in a splendid city mansion,” is the bumpkin in
the capital.
“To have a cake in each hand,” is to know not which to eat first—to be
in a quandary.
“A volcano under the snow,” is a man of amiable manners who conceals a
violent temper.
“The treasure which always circulates without an obstacle,” is “cash,”
or sapeks.
“An apricot-blossom in the snow,” is said when something rare and
marvellous happens.
“To blow away the hair to see if there is a scar,” is to look for a
mote in another man’s eye, and to hunt for defects.
“As difficult as the roads of Thibet,” is evidently a reminiscence
derived from the ancient Buddhist missionaries who came from that
region.
“To put on a silk dress to travel at night,” is to do a good action and
not have it known.
Some pithy sayings show the local gauge of sense. “He does not know
silver from lead,” “He has round eyes,” “He can’t tell cheese from
wheat,” He is an idiot. “Doesn’t know lu from yu.” This last refers to
two Corean letters, jot and tittle.
“As opposed as fire and water.”
“A buckskin man,” is a man of no will or backbone.
“To have a big hand,” means to be liberal.
“A great blue sea,” refers to something very difficult, with no end to
it and no way out of it.
A man who is “not known in all the eight coasts,” is an utter stranger.
A very sick person is “a man who holds disease in his arms.”
“A bag of diseases,” is a chronic patient
“Who can tell in seeing a crow flying whether it be male or female?” is
a question referring to the impossible.
The numeral 10,000 (man) plays a great part in proverbial sayings as
“10,000 times certain.” Corea is a “land of 10,000 peaks.” Certain
success is “10,000 chances against one.” “To die 10,000 times and not
be regretted,” is to be “worthy of 10,000 deaths.” Ten thousand sorrows
means great grief. A mountain is “10,000 heights of a man high.” “Ten
thousand strings of cash,” is a priceless amount. Man-nin are 10,000
people—all the people in the universe.
“To lose one’s hands,” is to make a fiasco.
A comet is an “arrow star.”
“A hundred battles make a veteran.”
Almost as poetical as the Greek “anarithma gelasma” (unnumbered
laughings) is this Corean description of the sea—“Ten thousand
flashings of blue waves.”
“To lose both at a time,” is a proverb founded on a native love-story.
“When a raven flies from a pear-tree, a pear falls”—appearances are
deceitful, don’t hazard a guess.
“If one lifts a stone, the face reddens.” The Coreans are fond of rival
feats of lifting. Heavy stones are kept for that purpose. “Results are
proportionate to effort put forth.”
Mosquitoes are lively and jubilantly hungry in Chō-sen, yet it does not
do to fight them with heavy weapons or “seize a sabre to kill a
mosquito.”
A very poor man is thus described: “He eats only nine times in a
month,” or “He eats only three times in ten days.” To say he is in the
depths of poverty is to mention the pathetic fact that “he has
extinguished his fire;” for “he looks to the four winds and finds no
friend.”
“The right and left are different,” is said of a hypocrite who does not
speak as he thinks.
When a man is not very bright he “has mist before his eyes;” or he
“carries his wits under his arms;” or has “hidden his soul under his
arm-pits,” or he “goes to the east and goes to the west when he is
bothered.”
Like Beaconsfield’s dictum—“Critics are men who have failed in
literature and art,” is this Corean echo, “Good critic, bad worker.”
“On entering a village to know its usages,” is our “When in Rome do as
the Romans do.”
“To destroy jade and gravel together,” refers to indiscriminate
destruction.
“Without wind and without cloud,” describes a serene life.
“Go to sea,” is a provincial malediction heavier than a tinker’s, and
worse than “Go to grass.”
“I am I, and another is another,” is a formula of selfish, and Corean
for “ego et non ego,” “I and not I.”
“A poor horse has always a thick tail”—talent and capacity are badly
located.
The large number of morals pointed and tales adorned by the tiger are
referred to elsewhere.