'Wisdom
and Proverbs'
Dr Paul Cavill
University of Nottingham
March, 2001
I.
Some Proverbs
Who first
said mind your p’s and q’s or hungry as a hunter or many
men, many minds, or a miss is as good as a mile? Nobody really knows,
though scholars have traced the earlier recorded uses of these sayings.
And although we know what they mean, we find that the third proverb
is proved true when we ask what the p’s and q’s of the first
one refer to: everybody has their own theory, some more probable than
others (possibly ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, but
who knows?). These examples tell us useful things about proverbs, and
we will explore some of these in relation to Old English wisdom literature.
Many, if not most, of them originated in speech, and
the sound (the initial h in hungry as a hunter, m in a miss is as good
as a mile) or pattern (‘many x, many y’) or image (whatever
the p’s and q’s are) of the saying appealed to others to
the extent that they used it themselves, and it became widespread in
speech and was eventually written down. These are ‘sayings’
and that usually implies that it was not necessarily the learned people
who coined these proverbs. Certainly in early times learned, literate
people were the ones who wrote proverbs down, but that was often at
the end of a long process, not at the beginning of it. Often enough
writers use phrases like ‘as the proverb says ...’ or ‘as
the saying goes ...’ or ‘as it is said ...’. This
‘popular’ aspect of proverbial wisdom led to it becoming
less acceptable as time went on for the upper classes and the learned
people to use proverbs. Latin tags can be seen to replace proverbs in
the Middle Ages; characters like Pandarus in Chaucer’s Troilus
and Criseyde and Polonius in Hamlet with their proverbial sententiousness,
become figures of fun.
Within the culture which gives them rise, or more generally
if they are universal truths, proverbs have a kind of self-evident authority.
Mind your p’s and q’s fits into a culture where rank or
age or wealth or some other feature of social superiority is held to
merit politeness and propriety in speech on the part of others. Most
cultures have proverbs of their own about the important matter of social
decorum, but mind your p’s and q’s is largely specific to
England, and because its ethical stance seems old-fashioned now, specific
also to the culture of the past. But we can imagine it being said by
a parent to a child visiting a respected grandparent or a headmaster
or a possible employer, and the circumstances of its performance gave
it authority.
On the other hand, the Roman poet Terence recorded,
if he did not coin, the phrase Quot homines, tot sententiae, literally
‘so many people, so many opinions’, which comes into Old
English as swa monige beoþ men ofer eorþan, swa beoþ
modgeþoncas, which, with the addition of ‘on earth’
to ‘people ...’, is a precise parallel to Terence. Clearly
here the proverb is true in a very general sense, and it could be echoed
in most cultures as a universal truth. Some proverbs are culturally
specific, and others are nearly universal. This one has the irrefutable
authority of being an observable truism.
Hungry as a hunter, I suspect, derived from the biblical
story of Jacob and Esau in Genesis chapter 25. Esau was so desperately
hungry after his hunting that he gave up his rights as his father’s
heir in return for some food his brother Jacob had ready. But the proverbial
phrase is not recorded until the end of the 16th century, and any explicit
connection it might have had with the biblical story has been lost.
There might be some connection here with that unheeded text of Chaucer’s
Monk, in the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales, ‘that seith that
hunters ben nat hooly men’. In this case the proverb has probably
generalised itself, that is, it has lost its specific reference to the
story and to the moral disapproval the story implies, as it has been
used. But whether they are culturally specific or ‘universal’,
it is clear that proverbs show us, or lead us to speculate about, interesting
things relating to the culture in which they are used.
Change often happens as proverbs are passed on. This
can happen to the proverbs themselves, as they are polished and improved.
A miss is as good as a mile was originally An inch in a miss is as good
as an ell, according to The Oxford Dictionary of English Proverbs. It
has come down to us today in a shorter, tighter version, with the repeated
m-sound. But the later version is elliptical, it misses out elements
which would normally be essential to the meaning, whereas the earlier
one is more explicit, with inch and ell contrasting. An ell is an obsolete
measurement which was just short of four feet, and clearly the point
is that it doesn’t matter how far wide a miss is, it is still
a miss. We need to supply this meaning to the modern proverb, with words
such as ‘A [near] miss is as good as a [miss a] mile [wide of
the target]’. In short, we have to know what the proverb means
to know what it means!
And change happens within the society using proverbs.
Sometimes the meaning of a proverb remains even after the precise reference
has been lost, as with p’s and q’s. We know the proverb
means ‘be polite’ even though we might only have a theory
as to what the p’s and q’s are. In the same way, we know
what being hoist with one’s own petard means, while we might only
have a hazy idea what a petard is, or indeed what being hoist with it
might be, though it all sounds rather painful.
A quick analysis of these English proverbs has highlighted
perhaps three things: proverbs are closely related to the society which
produced them; they have authority within the society for a limited
time; and change happens both to proverbs and to the society using them
(or trying not to use them).
II.
Importance
Most ancient
cultures have proverbs, and there is clear evidence for the importance
of proverbs and wisdom more generally. Some of the earliest written
texts are wisdom literature. Wise sayings and proverbs are found collected
in Sumerian and Babylonian as well as Hebrew (the biblical books of
Proverbs and Ecclesiastes), and later Jewish literature (books like
The Wisdom of Solomon and Ecclesiasticus), from a thousand years or
more BCE onwards. Greek and Roman literature have collections from the
first millennia BCE and CE. And somewhere near the end of the first
millennium CE, we can find collections of wisdom material, proverbs
and sayings in Old English poetry and prose (Maxims I and II, The Durham
Proverbs, The Old English Dicts of Cato, and scattered throughout Old
English), and in Old Norse (particularly a poem called Hávamál,
but also more widely).
It is worth asking what we have in the modern world
which equates with these books and poems. We might occasionally use
proverbs in speaking or jokes, but nowadays we tend to find self-consciously
‘wise’ sayings in specific places: ‘Just a thought’
space-fillers in general newspapers and magazines, ‘Thought for
the day’ on the radio or in papers, ‘Quotable quotes’
in Readers Digest, ‘Tips and tricks’ in more specialist
magazines. The thing to notice about all these is that though they appear
in mainstream media outlets, the particular places to which the wisdom
is confined make it clear that wisdom is marginal, that is, it is for
people with this particular inclination or need or interest, and different
from the stock-in-trade of the medium. Alongside this, we have catchphrases,
perhaps from films or advertising, and more recently from computing,
which have a wide currency for a while: so currently it is chic to be
geek, and a little while back, it was said that greed is good; and a
universal truth recently discovered is garbage in, garbage out.
This contemporary picture contrasts with what we find
in Old English. There we have catchphrases and proverbs both in mainstream
literature and in collections, which are themselves given prominence
by being placed where they are. So, for example in Beowulf we have heroic
maxims like Deaþ biþ sella/ eorla gehwylcum þonne
edwitlif ‘Death is better for every nobleman than a life of shame’,
a maxim that encourages Wiglaf to risk his life helping Beowulf to fight
the dragon. And we find similar expressions in many another heroic and
Christian poem, some of which seem to be repeated: Dol biþ se
þe his dryhten nat, to þæs oft cymeþ deaþ
unþinged ‘He is foolish who does not know his Lord; death
often comes suddenly to such’, in Maxims I, 35 is paralleled by
Seafarer 106, Dol biþ se þe him his dryhten ne ondrædeþ;
cymeþ him se deaþ unþinged ‘He is foolish who
does not fear his Lord; death comes suddenly to him’. So far as
we can tell from the broad spread of Old English wisdom sayings, they
seem to reflect a pretty general world view. They are not marginal,
nor are they restricted to a specific class of people or a certain kind
of poem.
The importance of wisdom literature becomes even clearer
in the collection called The Durham Proverbs. It is sandwiched between
a glossed version of a major Latin hymnbook, and a grammar of Latin
in Old English by Ælfric. Part of this might have been an accident
of binding, but even the binder must have thought there was something
similar about the two parts of the book that he bound together. The
proverbs themselves are given in both Latin and Old English. So they
have got all the trappings of importance and learning, both in the way
they are written and in the place where they are put when written.
But when we look at the proverbs in the Durham manuscript,
it is clear that importance and learning are not divorced from a strong
and earthy sense of humour. Nu hit ys on swines dom cwæþ
se ceorl sæt on eoferes hricge, ‘"Now it’s up
to the pig," said the peasant who sat on the boar’s back’,
says one. Ne swa þeah treowde þeah þu teala eode cwæþ
se þe geseah hægtessan æfter heafde geo[...], ‘"Nevertheless
I wouldn’t trust you, though you go well," said the man who
saw a witch going along on her head’, says another. It is probable
that the first one is a recommendation to take care over who you allow
to have power over you, who you entrust yourself to; and the second
one is about how far you can trust people who look impressive, or can
do impressive things: packaging isn’t everything. Both combine
a farcical image with sharply witty comment.
Wisdom is both widespread and important in Old English
literature, and it covers pretty much the whole of life, from the dilemmas
of heroic conduct, through to the canny suspicions ordinary people might
have of Flash Harrys of all kinds.
III.
The Art of Persuasion
There
are two sets of Old English poetic proverbial material called Maxims.
One is in the Exeter Book, an important collection of Old English poetry,
and the other is in a manuscript containing a major version of the Anglo-Saxon
Chronicle. Once again, the placing of these poems in the manuscripts
shows that the scribes treated them as important. The poem called Maxims
II (which seems to act almost as a preface to the Chronicle) has a catalogue
of things and their proper places. So the wolf belongs in the forest,
the javelin belongs in the hand, the mast belongs on a ship, the dragon
belongs in the burial mound, God belongs in heaven, loyalty belongs
in a warrior, and so on. The fascinating thing here is the way the poet
exploits the repetitive form of the verse catalogue to persuade people.
Some of these things are obvious. The first three, for example: a mast
without a ship, or a ship without a mast, are less than fully useful.
But dragons?
Draca
sceal on hlæwe,
frod, frætwum wlanc.
(A dragon, old and proud of its treasures, belongs in
a burial mound.)
The dragon in the mound probably reflects a Germanic
folk taboo which promised disaster to anyone disturbing a burial mound.
The second half of Beowulf revolves around the chaos unleashed by the
disturbing of the dragon sitting on its hoard. Sadly, not everybody
was troubled by this idea, and many Anglo-Saxon mounds have been disturbed
and robbed. And those who robbed the mounds probably did not encounter
dragons. But the verse encourages the audience in their belief in dragons,
and everybody knew where they were usually to be found. The maxim at
least tells people how to avoid dragons, and if most people did not
disturb burial mounds, it might have at least seemed that the maxim
was true.
If the dragon reflects a folk belief, the lines about
God, ‘the judge of deeds’, reflect a religious belief; and
the lines about loyalty a cultural, heroic belief. The poet makes no
distinction, mixing science, folklore, religion and ethics. The individual
dragon maxim can be ‘proved’ true along with the others,
if anyone wanted to try. But when the maxims are put together they have
the effect of reinforcing each other. This elicits from the audience
the feeling that all the ideas are just as obvious and factual as each
other: they are all treated in broadly the same way and are presented
as incontrovertible fact. To deny one of the maxims in this series is
to make holes in the socially-constructed fabric of belief.
This was one of the problems with proverbs and wisdom
sayings, at least as far as some people were concerned. They sound important
and true and obvious. The homilist and later archbishop Wulfstan, around
the turn of the first millennium CE, was indignant about some proverbs
he heard:
Cweþaþ ... to worde þa þe syndan
stunte, þæt micel forhæfednes lytel behealde, ac þæt
mete wære mannum gescapen to þam anum þæt men
his scoldan brucan, 7 wimman to hæmede þam þe þæs
lyste.
(The foolish ... say as a proverb that great asceticism
is of little importance, but that food was made for the sole purpose
that people should eat it, and woman for the purpose of sexual intercourse
for those who desire it. )
Wulfstan quotes these sayings as proverbs in his homily
De Septiformi Spiritu, and they may have been genuinely popular. The
first has the contrasting ‘great x, little y’ structure,
and the last proverb has the parallel ‘a for b, y for z’
structure. The latter has a sixteenth-century parallel, ‘All meats
to be eaten, and all maids to be wed’ (again we see the tightening
of the way the proverb is phrased). But as far as Wulfstan was concerned,
these proverbs were attacking the fundamental principles of monasticism
and Christianity, where bodily appetites were rigorously repressed for
spiritual purposes. This was a difficult time for monasticism, and Wulfstan
was doing his best to defend and extend it. So he gave these proverbs
the full treatment:
And soþ is þæt ic secge, mid eal swylcan
laran Antecrist cwemeþ 7 laþlice forlæreþ ealles
to manege. Forþam nis æfre ænig lagu wyrse on worulde
þonne hwa folgie eallinge his luste 7 his lust him to lage sylfum
gesette.
(But what I say is the truth, by means of all such teaching,
Antichrist entices and hatefully leads astray all too many. For never
in the world is there any worse law than that someone should entirely
indulge his inclination, and set his own inclination up as law for himself.)
In the process of refuting these proverbs, we might
note, Wulfstan is also opposing the suggestion that women are ‘for’
the gratification of men. This is just one of many proverbs which express
a misogynistic view, and it is a churchman who gives it the lie. On
the other hand, this is also an early example of a learned man refusing
to accept popular proverbs, but curiously recording the earliest forms
of them.
IV.
Change
Most Old
English proverbs are lost to modern speakers, though some survived through
the Middle English period. There are two copies of a little poem called
Latin-English Proverbs in Old English. Like the Durham Proverbs, they
are given in both Latin and the vernacular. The proverbs are used in
the Middle English poem The Owl and the Nightingale:
Ardor
frigesscit, nitor squalescit,
amor abolescit, lux obtenebrescit.
Hat acolaþ, hwit asolaþ,
leof alaþaþ, leoht aþystraþ.
Senescunt omnia que terna non sunt.
Æghwæt forealdaþ þæs þe
ece ne byþ.
(Heat grows cold, white becomes dirty, the beloved becomes
hated, light becomes dark. Everything which is not eternal decays with
age.)
These lines become:
Nis nout
so hot þat hit nacoleþ,
Ne nogt so hwit þat hit ne soleþ,
Ne nogt so leof þat hit ne aloþeþ,
Ne nogt so glad þat hit ne awroþeþ:
Ah eauere euh þing þat eche nis
Agon schal, & al þis worldes blis. (1275—80)
(There is nothing so hot it does not grow cold, nothing
so white it does not become dirty, nothing so loved it does not become
hated, nothing so cheerful it does not get angry. But everything that
is not eternal shall pass away, and all this world’s joy.)
Interestingly, these lines are about the very process
of change that they illustrate.
A last example of change appears in the use of a late
Old English proverb in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, under the year1130:
man seiþ
to biworde, hæge sitteþ þa aceres dæleth.
(people say as a proverb, ‘the hedge remains that
divides fields’.)
The proverb here is about important differences. Hedges
could be boundary markers between fields, and if two owners had fields
side by side, both had an interest in maintaining the hedges. Unusual
is the fact that the proverb is given a metaphorical application: just
as the difference of ownership makes the hedge important, so the differences
of discipline and style between the writer’s monasticism and that
of the powerful monastic house of Cluny become a hedge which make it
impossible for the English monastery to become part of the Cluniac movement.
Now a version of this proverb appears in the Middle
English collection of proverbial material called The Proverbs of Hending:
Men seþ
ofte breþren striue,
þe wiles þe fader is on liue,
Wo shal haven þat lond.
þe fader may hem ouerbide,
And þat lond, hit may atglide
In-to a fremde hond.
‘Heye he sit, þat akeres deleþ’
Quad Hending.
(Men often see brothers struggle about who is to have
the land while their father is alive. The father may outlive them and
the land may pass into the possession of a stranger. ‘He sighs
deeply who divides the land’, said Hending.)
Hending’s proverb in the last line of the stanza
is a version of the one in the Chronicle, but it has been misunderstood.
There are only the smallest changes of sound in the recording of the
proverb, but a complete change of meaning. The compiler of the Hending
poem is clearly struggling to make sense of what the thinks the proverb
means, and in the end he does quite well in that he gives us something
that could perfectly well be a proverb: dividing land could be a miserable
business for a wide variety of reasons. But it is a far cry from the
original. Perhaps as far a cry as would be the explanations offered
for p’s and q’s or being hoist with one’s own petard
by most people today.
V.
Conclusion
Proverbs
and wisdom literature generally give us fascinating insights into the
culture and mindset of the Anglo-Saxons. We have only been able to touch
on some of the topics that beg to be treated in more depth. But if you
would like to read more, here are some books and articles:
Arngart, Olof, ed., ‘The Durham Proverbs’,
Speculum, 56 (1981), 288—300; an edition of the proverbs with
commentary.
Cavill, Paul, Maxims in Old English Poetry (Cambridge:
Brewer, 1999); a study of maxims and proverbs in Old English literature.
Cox, R. S., ed., ‘The Old English Dicts of Cato’,
Anglia, 90 (1972), 1—42; an edition of the text with commentary.
Shippey, T. A., ed., Poems of Wisdom and Learning in
Old English (Cambridge: Brewer, 1976); an edition of a collection of
wisdom poems with a good introduction.
Whiting, Bartlett Jere, in collaboration with Helen
Westcott Whiting, eds, Proverbs, Sentences and Proverbial Phrases From
English Writings Mainly Before 1500 (London: Oxford University Press,
1968); a referenced catalogue of proverbs and proverbial phrases.
Wilson, F. P. ed., The Oxford Dictionary of English
Proverbs, 3rd edn (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1970); a collection
of proverbs from many sources.
Paul
Cavill