Chapter 10

"The quiet friend all one in worde and dedeGreat comfort is, like ready golde at nedeWith bralling fooles that wrall for euerie wrongFirme 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 wekeWhen 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 aknave,[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 bewareWhen 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 gentilnesseReport 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." Somecenturies 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 usrather 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 witWill 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 areGod'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 pouerteTake it not to hevyleFor he that sende the adversiteMay turn the agen to wele.Purpose thy selfe in chariteDemene thy worschip in honesteLet not nygardschip haue the maystreFor schame that may befalleFaver not meche thy ryeches,Set not lytel by worthynesKepe thyn hert from dowblenesFor 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 thankfullyAnd 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 lawfullieFor stoutness or for flatterie.To suffer none live idlelieFor 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 vsurieNor lend thy monie foolishlie.To loue thy neighbor neighborlyAnd shew him no discurtesy.To learne to eschew ill companyAnd such as liue dishonestlie."

"To take thy calling thankfullyAnd 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 lawfullieFor stoutness or for flatterie.

To suffer none live idlelieFor 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 vsurieNor lend thy monie foolishlie.

To loue thy neighbor neighborlyAnd shew him no discurtesy.

To learne to eschew ill companyAnd 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 reasonablethat 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 liberalhand 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 toogreat 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 fareBut for to pinche and for to spareOf 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—"Marryin 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": "Awoman'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 secrecyNo lady closer; for I well believeThou 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 boneMaye 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 lifeSo 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 twaineMight 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 laidA 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 hiswife, "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."

Heywood, writing in the year 1546, has the couplet:

"She is, quoth he, bent to force you perforce,To know that the grey mare is the better horse,"

and in many of the old plays the saying crops up:

"Ill thrives that hapless family that showsA cock that's silent and a hen that crows;I know not which live more unnatural lives,Obeying husbands, or commanding wives."

"The whistling maid" and "the crowing hen" are alike held objectionable, these masculine performances being considered entirely out of place and of bad omen.

The perils of matrimony would, according to the proverb-mongers, appear to be so great that we can scarcely wonder at the counsel:

"If that a batchelor thou beeKeepe the same style, be ruled by mee,Lest that repentance all too lateRewarde thee withe a broken pate.Iff thou be yonge then marye not yett,Iff thou be olde thou hast more wytt:For yonge men's wyves wyll not be taught,And olde men's wyves bee good for nought."

The home-life has goodly store of proverbial wisdom associated with it. The French say: "Chaque oiseau trouve son nid bien," and the Italians, "Ad ogni uccello il suo nido é bello," while the Englishman says, "East,west, home is best."[239:A]Monckton Milnes very truly says, "A man's best things are nearest him, lie close about his feet"; and a charming old saying is this, that "Small cheer, with great welcome, make a big feast." Proverbs, it must be confessed, are ordinarily very worldly wise, and much more frequently see the worse than the better side of things, and most of the adages about the home are very materialistic in tone; the sweet sentiment that is associated with the idea must be sought elsewhere. "The suit is best that fits me best," says an English adage, and the comfort of content is seen again in the Scottish saying—"Better a little fire that warms than mickle that burns." Socrates, passing through the markets, cried: "How much is here I do not want." "He who wants content," says an old proverb, "cannot find an easy chair."

Prudential maxims are very numerous; thus, we are warned that "Wilful waste makes woful want," that "Silks and satins put out the kitchen fire," and that "If you pay not a servant his wages he will pay himself;" while caution in another direction is advised in the saying, "The child says in the street what he heard at the fireside," and in this: "One bad example spoils many good precepts." The Germans say that "It is easier to build two hearths than to keep a fire in one," while the Portugueseadvocate a judicious blending of prudence with sentiment in the adage: "Marry, marry, but what about the housekeeping?"—a by no means unimportant consideration. Love in a cottage will fare the better if the larder be not too bare.

The writer of Ecclesiasticus describes very happily the plight of the unwelcome guest—the man or woman who, as we say in English, is sitting all the while on thorns. "Better is the life of a poor man in a mean cottage than delicate fare in another man's house. For it is a miserable life to go from house to house, for where thou art a stranger thou darest not open thy mouth. Give place, thou stranger, to an honourable man; my brother cometh to be lodged, and I have need of mine house"—a sufficiently humiliating dismissal. It has, we presume, been the lot of most people to find themselves the objects of a special and not quite disinterested friendship; to feel that one is being used, and one's kindness abused. Such people in the end defeat their own object, since one soon learns to avoid the risk of an invitation for a week when we remember that the last acceptance of such an invitation meant a two months' sojourn, and the upsetting of all our plans. Proverbs relating to this state of things will be seen in "An unbidden guest knows not where to sit"; "Who depends on another's table may often dine late"; and the advice to "Scald not your lips with another's porridge"—all warnings of excellent value and weight.

Our readers will long ere this have discovered that the book of Ecclesiasticus is ever at our elbow when we would find words of wisdom, and we turn to it now afresh in our search for caution as to the tale-bearer and the breaker of confidences. "Love thy friend and be faithful unto him; but if thou bewrayest his secrets follow no more after him. For as a man hathdestroyed his enemy, so hast thou lost the love of thy neighbour. As one that letteth a bird go out of his hand, so hast thou let thy neighbour go, and shall not get him again." And elsewhere, in the same treasury of wisdom, we read: "Whoso discovereth secrets loseth his credit, and shall never find friend to his need." In the Book of Proverbs[241:A]we find: "He that repeateth a matter separateth very friends"—loss of faith implying loss of friend.

Chaucer, it will be remembered, says that "Three may keep a counsel if twain be away." Another old writer tells us that "Curiosity is a kernel of the forbidden fruit, which still sticketh in the heart of the natural man," and this is seen almost at its worst when endeavouring to find out a matter that the person most concerned would desire to leave unknown, and quite at its worst when knowledge thus gained is made general property. "None are so fond of secrets as those who do not mean to keep them." There is no more trying person to deal with than he or she who continually punctuate their conversation with cautions that they "wish this matter to go no further," and warn us that that detail is "entirely between ourselves." They are an unmitigated nuisance.

A very quaint old proverb is that which tells us that "He was scarce of news that told that his father was hanged," and a very excellent rule of conduct is this: "Whether it be to friend or foe talk not of other men's lives." We are warned, too, that "He who chatters to you will chatter also of you," and the experience of most of us will confirm the wisdom of the adage.

Other happy sayings are these: "No one will repeat the matter if it be not said"; "Sudden trust heraldssudden repentance"; "More have repented of speech than of silence"; "A fool will neither give nor keep counsel"; "He that tells all he knows will also tell what he does not know"; "To tell our own secrets is folly, to tell those of others treachery"; "Thy friend has a friend, and thy friend's friend hath a friend"—great discretion is therefore necessary.

Heywood warns the man who thinks himself secure:

"Some heare and see him whom he heareth and seeth notFor fieldes have eies and woods have eares ye wot,"

an idea that we find yet earlier in a manuscript, "King Edward and the Shepherd," written about the year 1300:

"The were bettur be styll,Wode has erys, felde has syght."

So gracious a gift of Heaven to the sons of men as hope must necessarily find recognition in our proverbial wisdom. Our readers will recall the lines in Pope's "Essay on Man," where he declares that

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast;Man never is, but always to be, blest.The soul, uneasy, and confin'd from homeRests and expatiates in a life to come."

And in "Measure for Measure" we read that "the miserable have no other medicine, but only hope"; hence the saying: "Quench not hope, for when hope dies all dies." The Italians say: "L'ultima che si perde è la speranza"—the last thing lost is hope,[242:A]and the terrible words in the "Paradise Lost" recur to us:

"So farewell hope, and, with hope, farewell fear,Farewell remorse: all good to me is lost,Evil, be thou my good."

Lord Bacon, being in York House garden, looking at some fishermen as they were throwing their nets in what was then the pellucid and silvery Thames, asked them what they would take for their catch. They mentioned a certain price, and his lordship offered them somewhat less, which they declined to accept. They drew up their nets and in it were but three small fishes, and Lord Bacon said that it had been better for them had they closed with his offer. They replied that they had hoped that the catch would have been much greater, and his lordship in response reminded them of the proverb, "Hope is a good breakfast, but a bad supper";[243:A]and an admirably true saying it is.

A pithy old adage has it that "Hope is as cheap as despair," and it is certainly pleasanter; while another proverb tells us, as we lament departed opportunities, "When one door shuts another opens," a comforting state of things that the experience of many will confirm. How strong the encouragement to look forward with courage when cares seem overwhelming is the reminder that "When the tale of bricks is doubled Moses comes." Philosophy, good asit is, breaks under the strain, and is, when most wanted, but a broken reed. Goldsmith, in his play of "The Good-natured Man," says that "this same philosophy is a good horse in the stable, but an arrant jade on a journey," and Rochefoucauld equally happily declares that "Philosophy triumphs easily over past and over future evils, but present evils triumph over philosophy." We are reminded here anew of that definition of a proverb, "The wit of one voicing the experience of many," for certainly here Rochefoucauld supplies theespritwhile the rest of mankind can in this matter supply the experience.

A quaint little French proverb is this, "L'espoir du pendu que la corde casse," when they wish to express the idea of a very faint ground indeed for hope. When all that a man who is already hanging can hope for is that the cord may perchance break, his chance of a reprieve is but small. He has most legitimate ground for hope who has already done what in him lay to deserve success, hence foresight and forethought are a valuable possession: the one to see in advance the possibilities, the other to think how best to turn them to account:

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