FOOTNOTES:

"Rede and lerne ye may,Howe olde prouerbys sayThat byrd ys not honestThat fylyth hys owne nest."

While Heywood gives it as: "It is a foule byrde that fyleth his owne nest." As a member of a family, of a trade or profession, as the citizen, or the denizen of any country, each should bear in mind this adage,and beware of bringing reproach on himself or his surroundings.

The Italians say: "Ad ogni uccello suo nido è bello"—every bird thinks its own nest beautiful—and in a very old French book we found the equivalent of this: "A chescun oysel son nye li semble bel." A quaint little adage is this one from Spain: "A little bird must have a little nest"—a lesson in contentment, a warning against pretension and undue importance; while the Turkish saying, "The nest of a blind bird is made by God," is a beautiful lesson of resignation and faith.

The Italians say: "Better be bird of the wood than bird of the cage." This is rightly enough the bird's point of view; but the owner of the cage puts things rather differently, and declares: "Better one bird in the hand than ten in the wood." The Italians say that "It is better to have an egg to-day than a hen to-morrow"; but this, surely, is rather overdoing the thing. Even though present gain may outweigh future grander possibilities, the policy may be too narrowly pinched, and does away then with legitimate hope.

Those troublous little robbers, the quarrelsome sparrows, supply the material for some few proverbs. Of these we may instance a couple: "For fear of the sparrows the hemp is not sown"—a saying directed against the over-cautious, for necessary things must be done, even though there be some little risk in the doing; and "Two sparrows on one ear of corn cannot agree," though, if they would only be wise enough to let the other alone, there would be ample provision for both.

The French have a very true saying: "Chacun aime son semblable"—our English equivalent being "Birds of a feather flock together." Hence it is a saying: "Tell me with whom thou goest, and I will tell thee what thou doest." Burchardt, in his collection of Arabicproverbs, gives the following very graphic one: "He who introduces himself between the onion and its peel goes forth with the onion smell"; but, on the other hand, we have in the Spanish, "Associate with the good and thou shalt be one of them."

When some matter comes unexpectedly and inconveniently to general knowledge, the explanation of the informant as to his or her source of information sometimes takes the form of "A little bird told me." The probable origin of this will be found in the Biblical warning: "Curse not the king, no, not in thy thought, and curse not the rich in thy bed-chamber, for a bird of the air shall carry the voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the matter." Another very familiar saying, and still in use amongst our people, is that "One swallow does not make a summer,"[179:A]and yet another adage, and one equally well known, is the reminder that "Fine feathers make fine birds," almost always quoted disparagingly, but at least a hint that even externals have their value, and are worth consideration.

Another well-known adage is that "An old bird is not to be caught with chaff." The art of the bird-snarer has supplied several other useful contributions to the cosmopolitan ingathering of proverbial wisdom: thus, for instance, we are cautioned that "Drumming is not the way to catch a blackbird," and, again, that "An empty hand is no lure for a hawk"—that is to say, if we are unwilling to risk anything we shall probably also not obtain anything. There is yet again another, the warning voice against temptation and the snare, in this: "The fowler's pipe sounds sweet till the bird be caught." The Arabs declare that "A thousand cranes in the air are not worth one sparrow in the fist." This, with dueallowance for Eastern exaggeration and hyperbole, we recognise as but over again the familiar estimate of the respective values of the so well-known bird in the hand as compared with that of the bird in the bush.

When folks are looking for some special and exceptional interposition of fortune that is going to put everything straight for them, and lead them by a delightfully lazy route to an easy affluence, we may not unfairly remind them that "When the sky falls we shall catch larks ready roasted." Only the little "when," that will call for no labour at all, and then a glorious abundance to at once follow.

The Scotch remind us that "A craw is nae whiter for being washed"; but then, on the other hand, this washing process seems needless, for another saw tells us that "The crow thinks her young ones the fairest." Elsewhere, though, we find that "The rook said to the raven, Stand aside, blackamoor"—an ornithological version of the same derisive spirit that led to the jeering pot calling the kettle black. It has been suggested that it would be a happy thing if some power would "the giftie gi'e us, to see oursel's as others see us," but we fancy it would be but a doubtful blessing after all.

An old proverb, with much good sense in it, says that "The woodpecker loses itself by its bill," the continuous tapping calling attention to its presence, and making its life depend on the gamekeeper's forbearance. The scream of the jay and the fussy cry of the blackbird often, in like manner, betray their presence in the woodlands, and thus, also, chatterers expose themselves, and are the cause of their own downfall. In many cases it is what other people are saying that works mischief to a man; but in the case of the blatant and thoughtless chatterer he works his own woe—all that other people have to do being to let him do his own summing-up, and be his own executioner. Other birdproverbs are: "One raven will not pluck out another raven's eyes," and "He greatly needs a bird that gives a groat for an owl." We are told, too, and it is a capital saying, that "An eagle does not catch flies";[181:A]that "The hawk is not frighted by the cry of the crane"—greater size being not necessarily greater courage. Yet another true, too true, proverb is, that "If you breed up a crow he will pluck out your eyes"—a lesson to prepare one for the base ingratitude that may follow great kindness shown, and of the still sadder returning evil for good.

The cunning of the fox has been a never-failing subject for the writer of fables, and has supplied the material for scores of popular sayings. Of these we need quote but a few as samples of the many, since they are almost all constructed on the same lines, the subject being nearly always more or less of admiration for successful trickery. Not a very good moral this, we may say, yet if, in its outcome, it teaches to beware of putting oneself in the power of such particularly artful and shifty characters, it will not be without its use.

Absolutely the only proverb that we can recall that takes up entirely different ground is one of jubilation on the final downfall of this arch-trickster, and, curiously enough, it is of wide appreciation. In Italy, it is: "Tutte le volpi si trouvano in pellicaria." In France it is: "En fin les renards se trouvent chez le pelletier"—the fox at last finds his way to the furrier's.

When he would conceal the real object in view, "We are going for a little music, said the fox." We are told, too, that "An old fox needs not to be taught tricks," and that "He would cheat the fox must be an early riser." The Germans say: "Wenn der Fuchs Richter ist gewinnt schwerlich eine Gans den Process"—if the foxbe judge the goose is hardly likely to win the case.[182:A]"Wenn der Fuchs sie todt stellt so sind die Hühner in Gefahr"—when the fox feigns death the poultry are in danger.

The wolf is often introduced in proverb-wisdom, but he is, as his nature is, always a cruel, cheerless beast, quite wanting in the debonair attractiveness of the fox—who is as big a rascal really as he is. "To put one's head into the wolf's mouth" is to needlessly court great risks. The proverb is based on the old fable of the crane putting its head down the wolf's throat to extract a bone that had stuck there. The operation was entirely successful, and, on asking for his reward, the wolf told him that it was reward sufficient to have safely withdrawn his head. "To keep the wolf from the door" is to keep starvation at bay, and "To eat like a wolf" is to eat ravenously.

The Italians say that "Who keeps company with the wolf will learn to howl." Deliberate association with evil characters will make one as bad as those they associate with.[182:B]"Though the wolf may lose his teeth he does not lose his inclinations"—he is at heart as wolfish as ever. The Persians give the caution: "Keep the dogs near when thou suppest with the wolf," while the Romans had a saying, "Auribus lupum teneo." This having the wolf by the ears is a most dangerous position to be in, for the furious creature is so difficult to hold, and yet one dare not let go on any consideration. Thus do unfortunates at times get entangled in some bad business—the beginnings of a lawsuit, or the like—where advance or retreat seem equally alarming. The"Wolf in sheep's clothing" is a still more objectionable beast than the wolfin propria personâ, since he thereby adds treachery to all his other evil qualities:

"And by these guileful means he more prevail'dThan had he open enmity profest.The wolf more safely wounds when in sheep's clothing drest."

The bear has not so distinctive an individuality in fabledom as the fox or wolf. The best proverb that we have met with in which he figures is the declaration that "A man without restraint is a bear without a ring;" and then there is, of course, the well-known caution to the over-sanguine, "Sell not the bear's skin before you have caught him," or, as it is also phrased, "Spending your Michaelmas rent at Midsummer noon," not consider what may arise to mock your present confidence.

In our list of wild beasts it is a considerable drop from the wolf and bear to the mouse; but the mouse claims his place on our list, and is a much better known wild beast in England than the wolf, and therefore more in evidence in our proverbs. "The mouse that hath but one hole is easily caught," says an old adage, and we meet with it again in Chaucer's "Wife of Bath," in the couplet,

"The mouse that always trusts to one poor holeCan never be a mouse of any soul";

or, at all events, of any great enterprise.

A very true and impressive proverb is that "A mouse may stir what a man cannot stay"—a very small commencement may lead to an incalculable ending; a momentary slip unarrested may hurl half-a-dozen mountaineers over a precipice; a little trickle of water unregarded may be the solvent that will melt awayall barriers, and sweep all living things to destruction in the swirling torrent as it breaks its bonds.

There is a note of caution in the picturesque statement, "I gave the mouse a hole, and she has become my heir." The Spanish, "Give me where I may sit down and I will make a place for myself to lie down" is like unto it, showing in each case that if we "Give an inch, they will take an ell," and that we may, too late, repent of our first assistance when it has led in the end to our effacement.

The Chinese say, with quaint common-sense, "A mouse can drink no more than its fill from a river." Beyond a certain point that is soon reached all else is needless superfluity.

The strained relations between the cat and the mouse form the subject of divers popular adages. How good is the Scottish, "Weel kens the mouse when the cat's oot o' the house," paralleled in our English version, "When the cat's away the mice will play," or in the French, "Les rats se promenent a l'aise la ou il n'y a point des chats," and there is a pleasant vein of truth and humour in the assertion that "Mice care not to play with kittens."

In the "Order of Foles," a manuscript of about the year 1450, we find the graphic declaration that "It is a hardy mouse that is bold to breede in cattis eeris"; and Skelton writes, in 1520, "It is a wyly mouse that can build his dwellinge house within the cattes eare."[184:A]Heywood and other later writers also refer to this proverb in their various works.

The query, "Who shall bell the cat?" may be called a fable abridged, for it contains the point of one. The mice held a consultation how to secure themselves from the too marked attentions of the cat, and someonesuggested that it would be an excellent plan to hang a bell round her neck, so as to give warning of her approach. The idea was taken up warmly, but then the point arose—Who shall do it?

"Quoth one mouse unto the rest,Which of us all dare be so stoutTo hang the bell cat's neck about:If here be any let him speake.Then all replide, We are too weake;The stoutest mouse and tallest ratDoe tremble at a grim-fac'd cat."

The above is from "Diogenes Lanthorne," issued in the year 1607. Heywood writes:

"Who shall ty the bell about the cat's necke low?Not I (quoth the mouse) for a thing that I know."

To "smell a rat" is to have one's suspicions aroused as to something concealed, and is suggested by the eagerness of dog or cat to follow scent. The saying will be found in Ben Jonson's "Tale of a Tub," in Butler's "Hudibras," and elsewhere.

The art of the fisherman supplies material for some few wisdom-chips. "All is fysshe that cometh to net" we read in "Colyn Cloute" and other old sources of information.[185:A]"To swallow a gudgeon" is to be caught by some designing schemer's bait, some lying prospectus of the "All-England Aërated Soap Company, Limited," in which it is shown that the profits must necessarily warrant a dividend of sixty-five per cent. after six hundred thousand pounds have been set aside for working expenses. "To throw away a sprat to catch a herring" is a popular adage and of much good sense. "All fish are not caught with flies" is a useful hint too—all people that we would influenceare not open to the same considerations. "It is a silly fish that is caught twice with the same bait." To err is human, and to be once entrapped may easily happen, but it is mere folly not to profit by bitter experience. The French say, "C'est la sauce qui fait le poisson," and the way in which a thing is presented to one is often of great importance. The use of proper means to effect our purpose is enforced in the warning that "Fish are not to be caught with a bird-call."

It is excellent advice to "Never offer to teach monkeys to climb up trees"—another variant on instruction in ovisuction. It is very true, too, that "Monkeys are never more beasts than when they wear men's clothes" and "ape" humanity.

The laborious ant has not escaped the notice of the moralist, fabulist, and adage-employer. That they store up a mass of grain for winter service is entirely untrue, but it was at all events thought that they did; hence Juvenal writes, "Some men, instructed by the labouring ant, provide against the extremities of want," while Ovid declares that "Ants go not to an empty granary." The Arabs say that "If God wills the destruction of an ant He allows her wings," a hint that sudden elevation above the capacity and beyond the experience of anyone will very probably cause their downfall. Another Arab proverb is, "The beetle is a beauty in the eyes of its mother." Whatever the rest of the world may think, maternal affection is all-embracing. The French adage, "Faire d'une mouche un eléphant," is a needed caution, equivalent to our reproof of those who would "make a mountain out of a mole-hill." Such exaggeration is most profitless; it is soon detected, and thenceforth even true statements are subjected by the hearers to a liberal discount.

That "Even the worm will turn" is an oft-quoted saying to rightly justify a limit to endurance of injustice."Tread a woorme on the tayle and it must turne agayne," quotes Heywood; and Shakespeare, who clothes with beauty the commonest sayings of his day, writes:

"The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on,And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood."

A great proverbial use is popularly made of similes or comparisons, and observation of the very varying characteristics of the animals around them soon supplied our forefathers with an abundant store of these. "All that is required," as Bland, an old proverb-collector, states, "in forming this species of adage is that the person or thing used as a comparison be generally known or reputed to possess the property attributed to it."

As examples of the sort of thing we find amongst similes suggested by various beasts: "As greedy as a pig," "as surly as a bear," "as cunning as a fox," "as quiet as a mouse," "as poor as a church mouse," "as obstinate as a mule," "as sharp as a weasel," "as fierce as a lion," "as timid as a hare," "as mischievous as a monkey," "as faithful as a dog," "as quiet as a lamb," "as playful as a kitten," "as sly as a cat," "as patient as an ox," or "as weak as a rat," and "as wet as a drowned rat." "As drunk as a rat" may have arisen from an idea that the creature imbibed too freely from the liquors often stored in the cellars it frequented. In Borde's "Book of Knowledge," 1542, we find the passage, "I wyll be dronken other whyles as a rat." These sayings sometimes refer to old beliefs that are now exploded. "As uneven as a badger" arose from an idea that the badger's legs are shorter on one side than on the other. "As melancholy as a hare" was a saying that sprang from the belief that the flesh of a hare engendered melancholy in those who partook of it, andthat this effect was naturally produced from the unhappy disposition of the animal itself. Another saying, and one that has come down to the present day, is, "As mad as a March hare."[188:A]

Amongst the similes derived from bird nature we find: "As hoarse as a raven," "as stupid as an ostrich," "as innocent as a dove," "as chattering as a jay," "as plump as a partridge," "as proud as a peacock," "as bald as a coot," "as black as a crow," "as giddy as a goose," "as dull (or as wise) as an owl," "as blithe as a lark," and "as rare as a black swan." To our forefathers the idea of a black swan seemed an absolute contradiction, and to say, as was said in classic days, "Rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cygno," was to express at once the greatest impossibility the speaker could imagine.[188:B]Many things have happened since then, and amongst them the discovery of Australia and its singular fauna.

"As slippery as an eel," "as flat as a flounder," "as dead as a herring," "as round as a roach," are other well-used similes. "As thirsty as a fish," "as busy as a bee," "as blind as a bat," "as spiteful as a toad," are also in common use. The spitefulness of the toad arose from an old belief in his venomous nature and his promptitude in spitting poison on those who molested him. We also hear, "as merry as a cricket" or "as a grig." It has been conjectured that this latter should be, "as a Greek," and in support of this the Shakespearean passage, "Then she's a merry Greek," may be brought forward, and others of like tenormight be cited. "As blind as a beetle" doubtless arose from the way that some species have of blundering into the wayfarer in the dusk of the evening. The common dor-beetle, the cockchafer, the stag-beetle, and others supply us with illustrations of this. Sir Thomas Brown, in his interesting book on "Vulgar Errours," writes: "Slow worms are accounted blind, and the like we affirm proverbially of the beetle: although their eyes be evident." Udall writes: "Proude Ierusalem deserued not to haue this pre-eminence, which, albeit she were in every dede as blynde as a betell, yet thought herselfe to haue a perfect good syght, and for that cause was more vncurable"; while in the "Mirror for Magistrates" we find: "Say not the people well, that Fortune fauours fooles? So well they say, I thinke, which name her beetle-blind."

To compare a man out of his element to a fish out of water is a well-worn and familiar simile. Chaucer writes that "A monk whan he is cloysterless is likned till a Fissh that is watreles." This illustration of the unhappy condition of the monk outside his cloister is found not uncommonly, the earliest perhaps being in a Greek "Life of St Anthony," that is certainly not later than the year 373. Wyclif, for instance, writes: "For as they seyn that groundiden in these cloystris thes men myghten no more dwelle out therof than fiss mighte dwelle out of water." Some fish, as the tench, are much more tenacious of life when removed from their native element than others, and the saying that we have already quoted, "as dead as a herring," originated from the fact that this fish is in a marked degree unable to survive a very short removal from the sea.

The household surroundings of our ancestors readily supplied them with many apt similes readily understood by all. Of these we may instance: "As thin as a rake," "as round as a tub," "as cold as ice," "asdull as ditch-water," "as rough as a nutmeg-grater," "as hard as iron," "as smooth as a pebble," "as deep as a well," "as cool as a cucumber," "as soft as wool," "as hard as nails," "as stiff as a poker," "as light as a feather," "as flat as a pancake," "as dry as a bone," and "as fresh as paint." "As naked as a needle" occurs in "Piers Plowman," the only place we have come across it. "As dead as a door-nail" no doubt owes some of its popularity to its alliteration; it is sometimes "as dead as a dore-tree." In "Wit Restored," 1658, we find, "As dead as a dore-nayle"; and in "2 King Henry IV." Falstaff exclaims, "What! is the old king dead?" and Pistol replies, "As nail in door." In a much older work than either of these we find, in the description of a tournament: "Thurth the bold bodi he bar him to the erthe as ded as dornayl"; while another manuscript reads: "Feith withoute fait is feblere than nought, and as ded as a dorenail"—faith without works is dead. Piers Plowman says on this, "Feith withouten the feet is right nothyng worthi, and as dead as a dore-tree." The door-tree is the door-post, once part of a living tree, but now dead; while the door-nails are the equally moribund nails that in mediæval days studded the surface of the door.

Other similes from the furniture or other details of the house or its surroundings were, "as clear as a bell," referring to its tone, or "as sound as a bell," referring to its freedom from cracks that would destroy its sounding powers. We also have "as hot as toast," or "as crusty as a houshold loaf." "As clean as a whistle," or perhaps "as clear as a whistle." Those who have seen a country boy making a whistle from a bit of elder or other pithy or hollow wood, and then seen the final peeling of the bark and the revealing of the light green of the spotless underwood thereby, would give their vote probably in favour of"clean." It has been suggested again that the word means empty, a whaler that returns unsuccessfully from the fishing-ground being technically called "clean." On the other hand, the word "clear" may suggest either the quality of the sound or the necessity for their being no stoppage or impediment in the tube. Some will brush aside both explanations and say that the thing in question is not a whistle at all but a whittle, the big knife that butchers use, and that the notion really is that the thing in question, whatever it may be that calls forth the comparison, is cut off as cleanly and clearly as if it had been done by a whittle.

To be "as like as two peas" is a very happy simile, as all who have ever shelled peas will recognise. "As right as a trivet" is still an expression that may be heard from time to time. What those who use it quite mean by it it might perhaps puzzle them to explain. Some tell us that the trivet is a three-legged thing and must therefore necessarily stand firm, while we know by experience that a four-legged article will not always do so. Others tell us that this valuable quality of rightness depends on its being truly rectangular, as if it be not accurately made it will not fit the bars to which we would attach it, and will not give a level surface to stand pot or kettle on. Whatever the true explanation may be the rightness of a trivet is an article of popular faith, and no theorising will have any power to upset our firm belief in its rectitude. "As big as a parson's barn" refers to the olden time when the minister of the parish received his tithes in kind instead of in cash, and had to find sufficient stowage-room accordingly for these contributions.

Various callings were also laid under contribution in the quest for similes. Thus are: "As hungry as ahunter," "as dusty as a miller," "as black as a sweep," or a coal-heaver or a collier, "as sober as a judge," and "as drunk as a lord"—this latter being a relic of the old times when men of wealth and influence thought it no shame to give way to intoxication, and one of the duties of the butler, having supplied them with wine, was to loosen the cravat of any gentlemen who showed any signs of apoplexy, and to generally make their stay beneath the table as comfortable as possible. "As mad as a hatter" is really a corruption of the French, "Il raisonne comme une huitre"—he reasons like an oyster, and has no association with the gentlemen who provide our head-gear. The French proverb, we need scarcely point out, is sarcastic. The oyster when crossed in love, it will be remembered, is thus again made mock of and its feelings derided.

The various colours of the objects that meet our view are also pressed into the service of the seeker after similes; thus we have the excellent one, "as white as snow." We also find "as yellow as a guinea," a coin we rarely see, but familiar enough when this saying was to the fore. "As red as a rose" was common enough as a popular saying, but it is not so happy as many, seeing that roses are not by any means always red. "As red as a lobster" is above reproach if only we come across the creature after he has passed through the boiling stage, and "as white as a sheet" will pass muster. "As green as grass" is admirably descriptive, and "as grey as a badger" will do very well. "As brown as a berry" is more open to question, unless indeed it be a roasted coffee-bean. Berries are white, red, yellow, green, purple, orange, black, but we really cannot at this moment recall a brown one, so that it seems as though to be true we should say "as un-brown asa berry!" Black invites many comparisons. "As midnight," "as coal," "as ink," "as pitch," "as jet," are a few of these.

We were gratified to learn from a Brazilian that they have a simile, "as reliable as an Englishman." Job is of course the model of patience, Solomon of wisdom, Crœsus of wealth, and we have also "as true as Troilus," though the simile never took hold of the popular fancy. He was the Shakespearean ideal of unshaken constancy, and he declares that,

"After all comparisons of truth,As truth's authentic author to be cited,As true as Troilus shall crown up the verse."

"As true as steel" is the more ordinary simile that rises to one's memory. Other qualities, good and bad, that have supplied material for the makers of similes are: "Swift as an arrow," "deaf as a post," "ugly as sin," "cold as charity," "bright as the sun," "changeable as the moon," "sweet as sugar," "sour as vinegar," "hard as a diamond," "good as gold," "changeable as a weathercock," "quick as lightning," "firm as a rock," "soft as silk," "clear as crystal," "bitter as gall," "as rosy as an apple," "as cross as two sticks," "as bright as a new pin." Our list has no pretension to be complete—doubtless many others might be recalled; we have, as we write these words, remembered that we have overlooked "as plain as a pikestaff" and "as tight as a drum." Many such omissions will be duly noted by our readers, but our full justification will be found in the fact that we have had no desire or intention to make our list all-embracing. If those we have given are sufficiently representative of the sort of thing we have had under consideration, our object is gained.

[162:A]This is sometimes rendered "saddling the wrong horse." Cicero, before the Christian era, thus quoted it. His writings and orations teem with proverbs—the foolishness of trying to kill two birds with one stone, the undignified spectacle of a tempest in the classic equivalent of a tea-cup, the statement that while there is life there is hope, and many other such adages familiar to ourselves being introduced.

[165:A]"Give a dog an ill name and hang him, and it may be added, if you give a man, or race of men, an ill name, they are very likely to do something that deserves hanging."—Walter Scott,Guy Mannering. The French say, "Le bruit pend l'homme.""Clown.Oh, Maister, you are half-hanged!"Nobody.Hanged. Why, man?"Clown.Because you have an ill name: a man had almost as good serve no master as serve you."—"Nobody and Somebody," 1606.

"Clown.Oh, Maister, you are half-hanged!"Nobody.Hanged. Why, man?"Clown.Because you have an ill name: a man had almost as good serve no master as serve you."—"Nobody and Somebody," 1606.

"Clown.Oh, Maister, you are half-hanged!

"Nobody.Hanged. Why, man?

"Clown.Because you have an ill name: a man had almost as good serve no master as serve you."—"Nobody and Somebody," 1606.

[166:A]"Qui veut noyer son chien, l'accuse de rage."

[167:A]A school-boy, writing an essay on the cat, put down that it was said to have nine lives, but he added that he did not now need them, because of Christianity. This, quaint as it is, has a great truth wrapped up in it—the love of mercy, including kindness to animals, that is one of the points of the teaching of Christ.

[168:A]John Dunton, for instance, wrote in the year 1705, "A cat may look on a Queen, or a Satyr on her present Majesty."

[168:B]Tusser. "Fray" may be taken as foray, while "fay" is faith—i.e.by my faith.

[170:A]The Germans vary this into, "Wenn der Esel auch eine Löwenhaut trägt, die Ohren gucken vor"—"Even when the donkey wears the lion's skin its ears peep out and betray it."

[171:A]"As long as I am riche reputedWith solemn voyce I am saluted;But wealthe away once worne,Not one wyll say 'Good morne.'"—Harleian MS., sixteenth century.

[171:A]

"As long as I am riche reputedWith solemn voyce I am saluted;But wealthe away once worne,Not one wyll say 'Good morne.'"

—Harleian MS., sixteenth century.

[171:B]"Jesus did vouchsafe to aunswere by a riddle and a prouerbiall saying: teaching that it was an other manier of kyngdome whereof the prophetes had spoken."—Udall.

[172:A]A quaint old English proverb warns us that "A hog upon trust grunts until he is paid for," a very discomposing habit.

[172:B]"For thilke verrei prouerbe befelde to him—The hound turnyde agen to his castyng, and a sowe to waischen in walewing in fenne."—2 Peter, chap. ii. Wyclif's translation.

[174:A]The date we have given is that of Suetonius, from whose writings we quote it. It was probably an ancient saying in his day.

[175:A]"Dat Deus immiti cornua curta bovi."

[175:B]Pliny, in speaking of the goose, says that "It may be thought there is visible in the creature some sparks of wisdom, for Lacydes, the philosopher, is said to have had one of them attached to him as a constant companion, which would never leave him night or day, neither in the open street nor in the baths." One does not quite see where the wisdom comes in. It appears either to suggest that the bird showed great fidelity, or, as some might think it, became an intolerable nuisance. However that may be, Pliny points to a remedy for the latter when he adds quaintly—"But our countrymen are wiser, who know how to make a dainty of their liver!" He then goes on to describe the cramming to which they are exposed. Polladius says that they were chiefly fed on powdered figs. Martial also mentions the great size to which the liver was developed—all of which goes to show that "There is nothing new under the sun," and that the equivalent of Strasburg paté has been an appreciated delicacy for many years before Derby hampers were dreamt of.

[179:A]"One swallow proueth not that summer is neare."—"Treatise against Dauncing," 1577.

[181:A]"The eagle suffers little birds to sing,And is not careful what they mean thereby."

[181:A]

"The eagle suffers little birds to sing,And is not careful what they mean thereby."

[182:A]"Pheasants are fools if they invite the hawk to dinner.And wer't not madness thenTo make the fox surveyor of the fold."—Shakespeare.

[182:A]

"Pheasants are fools if they invite the hawk to dinner.And wer't not madness thenTo make the fox surveyor of the fold."

—Shakespeare.

[182:B]On the other hand, the Portuguese warn those who do not want to be taken for wolves not to wear the skin: "Quem nao quer ser loubo nao che vista a pelle."

[184:A]"That's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion."—Shakespeare,King Henry V.

[185:A]As, for instance, in Gascoigne's "Steele Glas," 1575, where we read:"Where favor sways the sentence of the law,Where al is fishe that cometh to net."

[185:A]As, for instance, in Gascoigne's "Steele Glas," 1575, where we read:

"Where favor sways the sentence of the law,Where al is fishe that cometh to net."

[188:A]"Contrary to reason ye stamp and ye stare,Ye fret and ye fume, as mad as a March hare."—Heywood."Thou madde Marche hare."—Skelton, 1520.

[188:A]

"Contrary to reason ye stamp and ye stare,Ye fret and ye fume, as mad as a March hare."—Heywood.

"Thou madde Marche hare."—Skelton, 1520.

[188:B]"He that worse may must holde the candle, but my Maister is not so wise as God might have made him: hee is gone to seeke a Hayre in a Hennes nest, a Needle in a Bottle of Haye, which is as sildome seene as a black Swan."—"Angrie Women of Abington."

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 whoknows 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.

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