FOOTNOTES:

"When all is done, lerne this my sonneNot friend, nor skill, nor wit at will,Nor ship, nor clod, but onelie God,Doth all in all.Man taketh paine, God giueth gaine,Man doth his best, God doth the rest,Man knew well intendes, God foizon[244:A]sendesElse want he shall."

The value of forethought in various directions is enforced in the following wisdom-chips: "A wise man will make more opportunities than he finds"; "Hastyclimbers have sudden falls";[245:A]"Count not your chickens before they are hatched"; "He that would enjoy the fruit must not gather the flower"; "Short reflection may save long regret"; "From bad to worse is poor exchange"; "Haste makes waste"; "Leave not to hazard what forethought may provide for"; "Cast not away the dirty water till thou hast clean"; "Little chips will kindle a large fire"; "Look before you leap"; "Beware of—had I known this before"; "Better be sure first than sorry after"; "Be wisely worldly, not worldly wise"; "Take heed that the relish be not spoiled by the cost"; "Heaven is a cheap purchase, whatever it costs"; "Ask thy purse what thou shouldest buy"; "He that measureth not himself is measured"; "When a fool hath bethought himself, the market is over"; "If things could be done twice all would be wise"; "Small beginnings may have great endings"; "A forest is in an acorn"; "Every maybe hath a maybe not"; "While it is fine weather mend your sails"; "Measure thrice before cutting once"; "Haste trips up its own heels"; "Take more time, that you may have done the sooner"; "Wisdom not only gets but retains"; "Defer not till to-morrow to be wise"; "Safe bind, safe find"; "A little wariness may save much weariness"; "Haste is a poor apology"; "That which the fool has to do in the end the wise man does at first"; and even then the dilatory man may never compass the task, for our position in life on the morrow depends largely upon our attitude of to-day,and the remedy of to-morrow may come too late. "Our deeds determine us as much as we determine our deeds." It has been said that if we cannot go backward and change what has been we can go forward and change what is, but even this unfortunately is only partly true, and the shadow of the past may darken the future, do what we will.[246:A]Hence the adage, "To-morrow is untouched," cannot be accepted without reservation.

Other proverbs that may well be quoted in praise of forethought are these: "Little stumble may save big fall"; "He who begins and does not finish, loses his labour"; "Put out your arm no further than your sleeve will reach"; "To change and to better are not always the same thing"; "Quick choice, long repentance."

"Take warning at once, that a worse may not hap,Foresight is the stopper of many a gap."

The French say truly enough that "Tout le monde est sage après coup," an equivalent saying to our "After-wit is everybody's wit"; and the Portuguese declare that "An empty purse makes a man wise, but too late,"—a most unfortunate state of things. Another well-known adage is "Festina lente"—tarry a little that we make our end the sooner. "Presto et bene non conviene"—hastily and well rarely meet. A Ciceronian maxim was, "Certis rebus certa signa præcurrunt"—certain signs are the forerunners of certain events, or, as we say in English, "Coming events cast their shadows before."

"Often do the spiritsOf great events stride on before the events,And in to-day already walks to-morrow."[246:B]

"Chi va piano va lontano"—he who goes gently travels far. A quaint old proverb tells us that "It is good to have a hatch before your door"—in order, that is, that one may not rush out too impetuously, but that a momentary pause may give opportunity for a moment's consideration. One of the most startling proverbs on this need of forethought is the Arab "Live, thou ass, until the clover sprouts"—a better day is coming, despondency must give place to patience and to hope.

The manufacture of excuses has not escaped the notice of the proverb-makers and users. These excuses take two forms—the excuses that omission calls for, and those that commission needs—that black may look at least grey, if not absolutely white. A very good example of the former is this, "Am I my brother's keeper?"—originally the plea of a murderer, and ever after the excuse of those who would wrap themselves up in their selfishness, and shut their eyes, their hearts, their consciences, their pockets, to the needs of the suffering. It has been well said that "Apologies only account for that which they do not alter." In some few cases, such as "A bad workman finds fault with his tools," or "The creaking wheel blames the badness of the road," the utterance is quaint and not unwholesome, and very true to human nature; but in most of these proverbs dealing with excuses there is an actual incitement to evil, a justification of wrongdoing, an implication that people are only honest because it pays better or because the chance of knavery is for the time being debarred to them. We have so often heard the declaration that "Opportunity makes the thief," that it has lost its meaning; but if we really think it out a moment, how abominable in teaching it is! A similar saying is this, "A bad padlock invites a picklock," an insinuation that we would all be dishonest if wegot the opportunity; while the Spaniards say, "Puerta abierta al santo tiento"—an open door tempts a saint. Shakespeare's utterance, "How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done," may express a sad truth, but after all we would fain believe that things are not quite so bad as not a few of our proverbs would imply: there is surely yet some little virtue and honesty left.

Fortune, good or ill, is not by any means overlooked. Thus we find the philosophic reflection, "Fortune can take nothing from us but what she gave"; and the warning, "Fortune is constant in nothing but inconstancy." We are warned yet again that "When fortune comes smiling she often designs the most mischief." All, however, is not blind chance; the hand of God is guiding; "There's a divinity that shapes our ends, rough hew them how we will." Nor is the hand of man without its influence, for "To him that is willing ways are not wanting," and "If you weave your web God will find the thread." The Italians say, "Vien la fortuna a chi la procura"—good fortune is to him who earns it; while the French declare, "Qui ne se lasse pas lasse l'adversité"—he who does not tire tires adversity, and steady perseverance will conquer ill-fortune. "La fortune aide aux audacieux," say the French again, while the Romans declared, "Fortes fortuna adjuvat"—fortune assists the brave, the classic reading of our more homely version, "Nothing venture, nothing have."

The victim of ill-fortune is reminded that "It is a long lane that has no turning"; or, as Gower puts it:

"Sometime I drew into memoireHowe sorowe maie not euer last."

The French have a saying, "The wind in a man'sface makes him wise," equivalent to the English adage, "Adversity makes a man wise, not rich," and so the Psalmist sings, "It is good for me that I have been afflicted, that I might learn thy statutes." Trouble works, however, in a twofold way, and while some it softens, others it hardens.

It is a matter of common observation that misfortunes often fall most unexpectedly, and that they seldom come singly.

"O soden hap, O thou fortune unstable,Like to the scorpion so deceivable,That flatrest with thy hed whan thou wilt sting."[249:A]

"Mischiefs," says an old proverb, "come by the pound and go away by the ounce," and the Italians have a practically identical saying. These calamities come sometimes in such a flood that no resistance to their attack seems of any avail, hence the quaint and homely adage, "There is no fence against a flail." The Romans had the saw, "Mustelam habes"—you have a weasel in your house, which they applied to those with whom everything seemed to turn out unfortunately: to meet a weasel being considered by the Romans an ill-omen.

It has been said that each man is the architect of his own fortune.[249:B]The statement is not wholly true, but it is sufficiently so to justify such proverbs as "As you have made your bed, so you must lie"; "As you brew, so must you drink"; and we must be prepared to take the consequences of our own fault. Zeno, the philosopher, having detected his servant in a theft, ordered him to be whipped; the servant, in excuse for what he had done, said it was decreed bythe fates that he should be a thief, alluding to the doctrine of fatalism which his master maintained. And so, too, it was decreed, said Zeno, that you should be whipped. It has been well said that "Presumption first blinds a man, and then sets him running." The Germans say, "Wer da fallt, über ihm laufen alle Welt"—he that falls down all the world runs over. All are ready to bear a hand in beating the man whom fortune buffets; and, as an old proverb says, "When the tree is fallen every man goeth to it with his hatchet." This kicking a man when he is down would appear a mean and contemptible proceeding were it not dignified by being termed the survival of the fittest in the struggle for existence, and this somehow throws a halo of philosophy on the proceeding, and the kicker is seen to be working out a law of the universe, in which the kicked also has an essential place.

We are told, truly enough, that "Half a loaf is better than no bread," that "A man had better be half-blind than have both his eyes out." Burke declares that "He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skill; our antagonist is our helper"; and the French say, "On apprend en faillant"—one learns by failing. Riches entail responsibility and anxiety, and a poet of the reign of Queen Elizabeth would have us believe that they are on the whole more trouble than gain:

"Take upp thy fortune wythe good hape,Wyth rytches thou doste fyle thy lappe;Yet lesse were better for thy store,Thy quyetnes sholde be the more."

One compensation of poverty is perhaps seen in the adage, "He that is down need fear no fall." We are told, too, that "A threadbare coat is armour against the highwayman"; and Chaucer, in "The Wif of Bathe's Tale," tells how

"The poure man whan he goth by the way,Before the theves he may sing and play,"

since he has nothing to lose, and therefore nothing to fear.

The sad but just law of retribution finds its due recognition in our proverb lore. The following may be taken as a few examples of this: "He that toucheth pitch shall be defiled therewith"; "Over-reachers most ordinarily over-reach themselves"; "A guilty mind punishes itself"; "He that will not be saved needs no preacher"; "He who sows thorns must not go barefoot"; "He who sows the wind shall reap the whirlwind"; "Hoist with his own petard." Shakespeare tells us how

"Diseases, desperate grown,By desperate appliance are relieved,Or not at all";

and of one elsewhere who cries: "I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part, sir, of myself, and what remains is bestial." Do we not see again the dread law of retribution in the passage:

"Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind:The thief doth fear each bush an officer,"

and Gay tells us how at last all has to be faced, and the responsibility of one's actions has to be realised—

"Then comes a reckoning when the banquet's o'er,The dreadful reckoning, and men smile no more."

As an alternative to a picture so sombre, we may quote the declaration, that "Chastisement is the knife that tells we still abide in the Vine."

Detraction, hypocrisy, ingratitude are all scourged by proverbs, but one feels over and over again how very much the proverbial wisdom of our ancestors seemed to dwell on the darker side of things. Onemay find a dozen adages that have ingratitude as their theme, but scarcely one that sings the praise of sweet thankfulness, and in like manner pretension, boasting, time-serving, self-interest have their attendant proverbs, while the praise of gentle modesty and sweet self-surrender finds little or no place. It may, perhaps, be said that this latter end is reached practically by the denouncing of the evil, but this is scarcely so—a scathing attack on falsehood is in its time needful, but there is still place and need for the recognition of the spotless beauty of truth. Denunciation may do much, but sweet persuasiveness yet more.

Shakespeare, in his "Cymbeline," writes of deadly slander—

"Whose edge is sharper than the sword; whose tongueOutvenoms all the worms of Nile";

and again, in "Much Ado about Nothing," we find the line—"Done to death by slanderous tongues"; and yet again warns us that "No might nor greatness in mortality can censure 'scape," and that "Back-wounding calumny the whitest virtue strikes." Byron writes in his "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage" of those whose evil task is "Sapping a solemn creed with solemn sneer," and Thomson tells how "Still the world prevailed, and its dread laugh,"—a laugh "which scarce the firm philosopher can scorn."

The following adages may be quoted:—"Envy shoots at others and wounds itself"; "Envy never does a good turn but when it designs an evil one"; "Malice seldom wants a mark to aim at"; "'They say' is a poisoned arrow." The Welsh say—"Faults are thick where love is thin." Other sayings are—"One jeer going forth brings back another"; "Once in people's mouths, 'tis hard to get out of them again"; "Those who have most need of credit seldom getmuch"; "The evil which issues from thy mouth falls into thy bosom"; "The sting of a reproach is in the truth of it";[253:A]"He that prepares a net for another should not shut his own eyes"; "Respect is better got by deserving than by exacting"; "Little minds, like weak liquors, are soon soured"; "Suspicion, like bats, fly by twilight"; "In a little mind everything is little"; "Despise none and despair of none"; "Faint praise is disparagement"; "A blow from a frying-pan blacks, though it may not hurt"; "Truth is truth, though spoken by an enemy"; "Harm set, harm get"; "Envy never enriched any man."

In a curious manuscript of the fifteenth century may be found "the answere which God gave to a certyn creture that desired to wit whate thinge was moost plesure to hym in this worlde." The answer is a very full one, fuller than we can quote, but it includes the following precepts:—"Suffre noysous wordis with a meke harte, for that pleseth me more than thow beate thy body with as many roddys as growen in an hundred wodys. Have compassion on the seeke and poore, for that pleaseth me more than thow fasteth fifty wynter brede and water. Saye no bakbyting wordis, but shon from them and love thy nayghber and turne alle that he saithe or dothe to good, me onely love and alle other for me, for that pleseth me more than if thowe every daye goo upon a whele stikking fulle of nayles that shulde prik thy bodye." Another manuscript of the same date that has come under our notice, in the Library of Jesus College, Cambridge, introduces a personification of the deadly sins,and each is treated with much graphic power, thus, under the heading of "Invidia" we find—

"I am full sory in my hertOf other mens welefare and whert:I ban and bakbyte wykkedly,And hynder all that I may sikerly."

The sneaking treachery of the envious man, grieved to the heart at the welfare of others, and doing them what evil he can safely compass, is very forcibly painted, and this of "Ira," in its picture of downright brutality, is as graphic—

"I chide and feght and manas fast;All my fomen I wylle doun kast,Mercy on thaym I wylle none haueBut vengeance take, so God me saue."

Revenge, however sweet it may appear, always costs more than it is worth, so that to be of this mind is to scourge oneself with one's own flail. Thus the adage says truly enough, "To be angry is to revenge the faults of others on ourselves." Another useful hint is that "Anger is danger, and even the anger of the righteous is not always righteous anger." How full, too, of wisdom the precept that "Anger should set with the sun but not rise with it," carrying on with vindictive perseverance into the present and the future the evil of the past. Other proverbs are:—"Anger begins with folly and ends with repentance"; "Anger makes a rich man hated, and a poor man scorned"; "Anger is more hurtful than the injury that caused it"; "A man in a passion rides a horse that runs away with him"; "Anger may glance into the breast of a good man, but rests only in the bosom of fools"; "An angry man opens his mouth and shuts his eyes"; and to these many others bearing on the subject might be added.

Other excellent wisdom chips are these:—"Religion is the best armour in the world, but the worst cloak"; "Imitate good but do not counterfeit it"; "Roguery with pretext is double roguery"; "Better the blame of the just than the praise of the wicked." Of all the virtues it has been said that gratitude has the shortest memory—"Eaten bread is soon forgotten." The Spaniards have, too, a very graphic proverb: "Cria el cuervo y sacarte ha los ojos"—breed up a crow and he will tear out your eyes; while the French say: "Otez un vilain, du gibet, il vous y mettra"—save a thief from the gallows and he will place you there.

Pretension is exposed in many proverbs. An excellent one is this: "The best horseman is always on his feet." This is sometimes varied into "The man on the wall is the best player." It is in either version an obvious satire on the looker-on, who always tells how he could have done the thing better. Other good saws are these: "In a calm all can steer"; "Vainglory blossoms but does not bear"; "All his geese are swans"; "We cannot all do everything"; "Not even the youngest is infallible"; "Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works"; "Presumption blinds a man and then sets him running"; "Vanity has no greater foe than itself"; "A small mind has usually still room for pride"; "Insolence is pride with her mask pulled off"; "Arrogance is a weed that grows on poor soil."

Sir Thomas More reminds us that "Pride, as the proverb is, must needs have a shame," while a yet older writer declares that "Loste and deignouse pride and ille avisement mishapnes oftentide," and centuries even before this we find the warning that "A haughty spirit goes before a fall." Shakespeare puts the matter very pithily—"Who knows himself a braggart (lethim fear this: for it will come to pass), That every braggart shall be found an ass." "Brag is a good dog, but hold-fast is a better," we are told; a less familiar version found in old collections of proverbs being, "Brag is a good dog, but dares not bite." A very quaint old saw against boasting and pretension is this, "We hounds killed the hare, quoth the lap-dog"; while another good doggy adage is the warning that "A snappish cur must be tied short." "Great boasters," we are told, "are little doers,"[256:A]even as "Great promisers are bad paymasters." It is equally true, the statement that "One sword keeps another in its sheath." A quaint proverb hath it that "My father's name was Loaf, and I die of hunger," a Spanish satire on those who, in poorest circumstances, yet boast of their kindred,[256:B]while a very true Italian saw is that "Many are brave when the enemy is running." On the other hand, "A brave retreat is a brave exploit." Throughout our pages we have made but slight reference to Biblical sayings since these are so readily accessible to all, and are, we may presume, so well known, but we cannot here quite forbear, for the counsel—"Let not him that girdeth on his harness boast himself as he that putteth it off"—seems so particularly happy a termination to our proverbs on pretension and boasting. Having thus broken through our procedure, we are tempted to add yet one more reference from the same source, the splendid irony on the man, "Wiser in his own conceitthan seven men that can render a reason"—a race not yet extinct.

The following proverbs, dealing with various phases of self-interest, have more or less of worldly wisdom in them, and are worth quotation:—"Better go round than fall in the ditch"; "Better say here it is than here it was"; "Better cut the shoe than pinch the foot"; "If you wish a thing done—go; if not—send"; "Light not a blaze that you cannot extinguish"; "A hook's well lost to catch a salmon"; "Buyers want a hundred eyes; sellers, two"; "All is lost that is poured into a cracked dish"; "Those who put on livery must put on patience"; "Of two evils choose the less"; "Better one's house too little one day than too large all the year beside"; "Sometimes it is better to give your apple than to eat it yourself"; "Venture not all in one bottom"; "A man's gift makes room for him"; "An ass laden with gold overtakes everything"; "If you grease a cause well it will stretch"; "Praise the bridge by which you pass over"; "It is wit to pick a lock, but wisdom to let it alone"; "Those disposed for mischief will never want occasion"; "A petitioner that spares his purse angles without his bait."

In "The Ship of Fools," 1570, we find the line, "Aungels worke wonders in Westminster Hall," the angel being a coin of that period, and the Hall the great seat of Justice, or at all events, of Law. The Romans had a proverb—"Bos in lingua"—an ox on the tongue. As some of the ancient money was stamped with the device of an ox, the proverb was a delicate way of saying that a man had been bribed to be silent. We are told that Demosthenes, having received a present from some who wished to obtain a privilege that they were fearful he would oppose, appeared in the court with his throat muffled up,pretending that he had so violent a cold as to be incapable of speaking; but one of the members of the court suspected the matter, and quoted this proverb, intimating that it was not the cold but the bribe that had debarred him from speech. Another of these old Roman proverbs was, "Argenteis hastis pugna et omnia expugnabis"—if only one fights with silver spear they will be all-conquering. A similar cynical maxim appreciative of the power of bribery and corruption is that, "Where gold avails argument fails." Another old Roman adage was, "Oleum et operam perdere"—to lose both oil and labour. This was applied to those who had spent much time, given much labour, made considerable pecuniary sacrifice, to attain some object, and had, after all, failed in doing so. Those who contended in the public games freely anointed their limbs with oil to make them supple ere entering on the contest, and so if, after all, they were conquered they lost both oil and labour. In like manner, the student poring over his books and burning the midnight oil, if he failed in the acquisition of knowledge, lost oil and labour. The ancients tell how a man, having a suit at law, sent to the judge a present of a vessel of oil, but his antagonist sent a fatted pig, and this turned the scale in his favour, and he gained his cause. Justice may well be represented as blind when such proceedings are possible. The first man complained and reminded the judge of his gift, but the judge told him that a great pig had rushed in and overturned the oil, so that it and his labour in bringing it had been lost. Whether the proverb grew out of the story or the story out of the proverb it is now impossible to pronounce any opinion upon.

Other keen proverbs are:—"He that finds a thing steals it if he restores it not"; "What will not makea pot may make a lid"; "The best patch is off the same cloth"; "Break not eggs with a hatchet"; "Ease and honour are seldom bedfellows"; "Stretch your legs according to your coverlet"; "Pin not your faith on another's sleeve"; "As a man is finded so the law is ended"; "Live and let live"; "An ill agreement is better than a good judgment"; "Misreckoning is no payment"; "Name not a rope in his house that hanged himself." A very marked example of this delicacy of feeling is seen in the saying, "Father disappeared about assizes-time, and we asked no questions!" "Take away fuel and you take away fire"; "No man is impatient with his creditors"; "Command yourself and you may command much else."

Turning our attention awhile in other directions, we find the Spaniard's warning, "Cada cuba bucele al vino que tiene"—the cask smells of the liquid it held; a man's surroundings stamp him, and he is known by the company he keeps. Self-interest is blatant in the Spanish saying that "People don't give black puddings to those who kill no pigs"; and the same cynical teaching is found in the French adage, "To one who has a pie in the oven you may give a piece of your cake."[259:A]The French version of "To him that hath shall be given," is, "He who eats chicken gets chicken."[259:B]The Spanish proverbs, as we have seen, have a strong tinge of mocking sarcasm in them; here are two more examples: "Give away for the good of your soul what you cannot eat"; "Steal the pig but give away the feet in alms." There is a delightful touch of human nature in the French saying, "No one is so open-handed as he who hasnothing to give," or its Scotch equivalent, "They are aye gudewilly o' their horse that hae nane." Another canny Scotch experience is that "He that lacks (disparages) my mare would buy my mare." Self-interest degenerates into self-abasement in the Arab counsel, "If the king at noon-day says it is night, behold the stars." The Persian warning, "It is ill sport between the cotton and the fire," is very graphic. The old Roman, "Aliam quercum excute," the advice to go and shake some other tree, since enough has been gathered here, is expressive. It is equivalent to telling one's importunate neighbour that he must really try fresh ground at last; to advise one's friend to cease from the pursuit they have been following, since they have reaped from it all the advantage it is likely to yield to them. A dignified and noble saying is this, "Deridet sed non derideor"—he laugheth, but I am not laughed at; the impertinence is suffered, is passed unregarded, and falls flat and dead.

Custom and habit exercise their influence on our proverb lore; thus we are told, wisely enough, that "Custom is the plague of wise men, the idol of fools." Kelly tells a good story, in illustration of this bowing to custom, of a captain's wife whose husband the South Sea Islanders had eaten, being consoled by a friend; "Mais, madame, que voulez-vous? Chaque peuple a ses usages." The power of habit is immense; an old saying tells us that "Habit is overcome by habit," but ordinarily the habit in possession fights hard, and is not readily dispossessed. Hence it is of solemn warning to "Kill the cockatrice while yet in the egg." It is one of the most familiar of truisms that "Habit becomes second nature," and that "What is bred in the bone will never come out of the flesh." To check at the beginning may be difficult, but to overcome in the end may be impossible. "Can the Ethiopian," asks the prophet, "change hisskin or the leopard his spots? Then may you also do good that are accustomed to do evil." As the bough of a tree bent from its usual direction returns to its old position so soon as the temporary force to which it yielded is removed, so do men return to their old habits so soon as the motives, whether of interest or fear, which had influenced them, are done away. "Nature," says Lord Bacon, "is often hidden, sometimes overcome, seldom extinguished. Let not a man trust his victory over his nature too far; for nature will be buried a great time and yet revive upon the occasion or temptation, like as it was with Æsop's damsel, turned from a cat to a woman, who sat very demurely at the board's end till a mouse ran before her." The same philosopher gives the following admirable caution: "A man's nature runs either to herbs or weeds: therefore let him seasonably water the one and destroy the other." The Spaniards say: "Mudar costumbre a par de muerte"—to change a habit is like death.

"Ill habits gather by unseen degrees,As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas."

And Shakespeare, in the "Two Gentlemen of Verona," exclaims: "How use doth breed a habit in a man!" The ancient Romans declared: "Fabricando fit faber," which we find in French as "En forgeant ou devient forgeron"; in Spanish, as "El usar saca oficial"; in German, as "Uebung macht den meister"; and in English, as "Use makes the craftsman."

Boys catch the habit of stammering if thrown with those who stammer, and the Dutch declare: "Die bij kreupelen woont, leert hinken"—he that lives with cripples learns to limp. Fortunately, there are good habits as well as bad ones; hence the Romans taught: "Boni principii finis bonus," and the French say, "Debon commencement bonne fin"—we insensibly imitate what we habitually admire.

Experience teaches, and we propose to quote some few of the proverbial lessons that are of value in the conduct and wear and tear of life, and we commence with the homely bit of wisdom that, if realised, would save so much of worry and heartache: "What can't be cured must be endured."[262:A]Another good saying is: "Well begun is half done"—poetically rendered by the Italians in the counsel, "Begin your web, and God will find you thread." "Procrastination is the thief of time," is another well-worn and excellent adage. How valuable, again, are these: "Teaching of others teacheth the teacher"; "He teaches ill that teaches all"; "He that seeks trouble rarely misses it"; "He that is surety is not sure"; "Look before you leap"; "The horse that draws is most whipped"; "Blow first and sip after"; "At open doors dogs come in"; "He that is angry without cause must be pleased without amends"; "It is but lip-wisdom that lacks experience"; "Fetters, though of gold, are fetters still"; "Without danger, danger cannot be overcome"; "Experience is a dear school, but fools learn in no other"; "Some advice at fourpence is a groat too dear"; "The counsel that we favour we most scrutinise"; "He that sits to work in the market-place shall have many teachers"; "Valour that parleys is near surrender"; "As you salute you will be saluted"; "Responsibility must be shouldered, you cannot carry it under your arm"; "One eye-witness is better than ten hear-says"; "If you pity knaves you are no friend to honest men"; "Every man is a pilot in a calm sea"; "Plant the crab-tree where you will it will never bearpippins"; "Wide will wear, but narrow will tear." This last, homely as it sounds, is excellent in its counsel in praise of a wise liberality.

The ancient Roman, "Bis dat qui cito dat," that is so often quoted in advocacy of prompt aid, re-appears in modern Italy in the version, "A gift long waited for is not given, but sold." "Say not to your neighbour, Go, and come again, and to-morrow I will give, when thou hast it by thee." "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick,"[263:A]and ready help at the critical moment might have averted a catastrophe. Another very true classic adage is, "Beneficium accipere, libertam est vendere"—accept a favour and you sell your freedom. Excellent counsel is in the twin proverbs, "Deliberating is not delaying," and "That is a wise delay which maketh the road safe." An old writer[263:B]very sagely puts it thus: "When we are in a strait that we know not what to do, we must have a care of doing we know not what," and thus save time by giving time.

Advice for the conduct of life is freely bestowed on us by our proverbial wisdom. We may well head the examples we propose to give with the caution, "In vain does he ask advice who will not follow it."

"Few things," says Dr Johnson, "are so liberally bestowed, or squandered with so little effect, as good advice." Another reading is that "He that will not be counselled cannot be helped." Some few specimens of counsel tendered are these: "At great bargains pause awhile"; "The best throw of the dice is to throw them away"; "Raise up no spirits that you cannot lay"; "Rather suffer a great evil than do a little one"; "Agree, for the law is costly"; "Avoid the pleasure that will bite to-morrow"; "Let the shipwrecks of others be your beacons"; "Let every man praise the bridge he goes over." Speak not ill of him who hath done you a courtesy, or whom you have made use of to your benefit. The Arabs in like spirit teach, "A well from which thou drinkest throw not a stone into it." An Italian saw sarcastically says, "Does thy neighbour annoy thee? lend him a zechin"—he will then keep out of the way. A Danish proverb wisely advises to "Take help of many, and counsel of few"; while a homely German proverb—"Henke nicht alles auf einen Nagel"—warns us not to hang all on one nail; or, as our equally homely English proverb has it, "Do not carry all your eggs in one basket"—have not all your ventures in one vessel.

The weather in this our changeable climate has supplied abundant store for popular lore; it would indeed suffice in itself to yield material for a goodly volume, and the result would be a collection of great literary and antiquarian interest.

One very familiar adage is the comforting statement that "It is an ill wind that blows no one any good." Shakespeare quotes it more than once; in one case it is rendered as "Ill blows the wind that profits nobody," and elsewhere, "Not the ill wind which blows no man good," while Tusser gives us the rhyming version—

"Except wind stands as never it stood,It is an ill wind turns none to good."

Another old saw teaches that "Ill weather is seen soon enough when it comes," but this is indefensible, for while it is a wise counsel not to meet troubles half way, to exercise no forethought at all is mere lunacy. Such a proverb, again, as this, "Though the sun shine leave not your coat at home," is much too rigid in its insistence, and the advice, whether taken literally or metaphorically, would be at times absurd. If we try it, for instance, in this guise—Though surrounded by loving friends carry suspicion ever with you—we feel that the tension is needless. A much truer saying is this, "When the sun shines nobody minds him, but when he is eclipsed all consider him," and we realise at last on the withdrawal of the benefit of how great value it had been to us.

A wise and helpful Latin proverb is, "Sequitur Ver Hyemem"—spring succeeds winter, and sunshine follows rain. "After a storm, calm," or, as the French have it, "Apres la pluie vient le beau temps."

"What, man, plucke up your harte, bee of good cheere,After cloudes blacke wee shall have wether clere."

"Heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning," is no discovery of yesterday.

"March winds and April showers bring forth the May flowers," and the French recognise the welcome assurance in their version, "Mars venteux, Avril pluvieux, font le Mai gai et gracieux," while across the Rhine the saying is again, "Märzen Wind and Aprilen Regen verheissen im Mai grossen segen." The value of dry weather at sowing time is indicated in the saying that "A bushel of March dust is worth a king's ransom"; while "February fill-dyke" is a testimony to the abundant rain that is ordinarilycharacteristic of that month; in France it is said that "Fevrier remplit les fosses: Mars les seche." This rain is of great value, and "All the months of the year curse a fair Februeer," and "If the grass look green in Janiveer 'twill look the worser all the year." The exigencies of rhyme are responsible for the miscalling of these month-names. A great many of these rustic weather proverbs are thrown into more or less, and ordinarily more, uncouth rhyme, no doubt as an aid to memory; thus we are told that "No weather's ill if the wind be still," that it is well should "September blow soft till the fruit's in the loft," and that "If the first of July be rainy weather, 'twill rain more or less four weeks together." We are taught again that "In February if thou hearest thunder thou wilt see a summer's wonder." Undoubtedly a thunderstorm in February might well be regarded as one of the least likely things to happen in July, while the hearing of its sonorous peals would certainly be a remarkable feat of vision. As the literal acceptance is so impossible we must perforce look a little below the surface, and when we recall that our ancestors were great at prognostics we see that we are expected to regard this ill-timed storm as an omen of coming events of startling nature. Thus Willford, in his "Nature's Secrets," teaches that "Thunder and lightning in winter is held ominous, portending factions, tumults, and bloody wars, and a thing seldome seen, according to ye old adigy, Winter's thunder is ye Sommer's wonder."[266:A]

The countryman has abundant opportunity of studying the varying aspects of Nature, hence he has discovered that "An evening red and morning grey will set the traveller on his way";[267:A]though he seems to have also observed that "If the sun in red should set, the next day surely will be wet." The two statements appear to directly contradict each other. On the other hand we are told that when the reverse happens, "The evening grey and morning red make the shepherd hang his head"; and that "If the sun should set in grey the next will be a rainy day"; the sun setting in a bank of clouds—the west in this country being the direction in which we ordinarily look for wet weather—the result on the morrow will probably be rain. Hence, "A rainbow in the morning is the shepherd's warning, a rainbow at night is the shepherd's delight"; or in Germany, "Regenborgen am Morgen macht dem Schäfer sorgen: Regenborgen am Abend ist dem Schäfer labend."

The statement that "The moon is made of green cheese" may be mentioned in passing. Shacklock, in the "Hatchet of Heresies," written in 1565, says, "They may make theyr blinde brotherhode, and the ignorant sort beleeve that the mone is made of grene chese," and many old writers introduce this venerable belief in their plays and other works. We now-a-days associate the idea with age, the green suggesting mouldiness, but the word here means the very opposite, and refers really to a cheese not matured; the moon being new every month, the material of which it was composed never got beyond the green or unripe stage.

It is popularly held that "When the wind is in theeast 'tis good for neither man nor beast," and a quaint Spanish proverb advises, "Ask no favour during the Solano." This Solano is a wind that blows over from Africa, and is exceedingly hot and dry. It is also known as the sirocco. The moral clearly is that when people are in a state of irritation it is not advisable to lay one's needs before them, the time being inopportune.

Many of our weather proverbs are very naturally associated with various saints' days. Thus we get "St Martin's Summer" and "All Saints' Summer" in reference to the bright clear weather that we occasionally get in the late autumn, All Saints' Day being on the first, and St Martin's Day on the eleventh of November. Allusions to both will be found in Shakespeare; thus, in "I. Henry VI."—"Expect St Martin's Summer, halcyon days." The eighteenth of October was in like manner called "St Luke's little Summer." Another old adage was, "If the day of St Paul be clear, then shall betide a happy year"; this day, the festival of the conversion of the saint, was in the calendar ascribed to January the 25th.

Another well-known belief is summed up in the old rhyme: "St Swithin's day if it do rain, for forty days it will remain." This date is July 15th, and it may not be generally known that, taking the year round, July is often a very rainy month. The Saint was Bishop of Winchester, and when he died, in the year 862, he desired to rest where the sweet rain of heaven might fall. His desire was respected, but later on the monks thought it beneath his and their dignity that he should be laid to rest in the graveyard, and so they proposed to re-inter the body in the choir, but when the day came the rain was so terrific that they had to postpone matters till the next day. This, however, was no better, nor was the next, or next, till at length, after forty suchpostponements, it dawned upon them that their late bishop felt a strong objection to the removal of his remains, and they at last had the sense to decide to let him rest in peace as he had desired, whereupon the sun burst forth, and it is to be hoped that they all lived happy ever after.

The subject of our book has a scope so all-embracing, a wisdom so piquant, an utterance so quaint, a wit so trenchant, a body of material so vast, an antiquity so remarkable that not a volume but a library would be needed to do it justice.

He who would desire to discourse wisely, comprehensively, on the proverbs of all times and of all countries has before him a task too great for fulfilment, if not too vast for ambition, and what to select from the sheer necessity of its inclusion, what to discard since the impossibility of completeness might be our plea in forgiveness of its absence, has been a problem constantly before us. Where there are many men there are many minds, and we shall be, doubtless, blamed alike by some for what they find, and, no less, for what they fail to find. Could our readers see, as we now see before us on reaching this our last page, the great bulk of material that we have accumulated, and that remains unused, they would realise the better the vastness of the field—the ever-recurring problem and responsibility of selection.

The subject has been, from the first page to the last, one of abounding interest to us, and we would fain hope that we have succeeded in imbuing our readers with something of the pleasure that we have ourselves derived from a study in itself so full of charm.

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