_A leap from a hedge is better than a good man's prayer._ (Spanish.) The leap (of a robber) from his lurking-place, being preferable to asking charity, and receiving a blessing, is one of those proverbs, the impudent immorality of which is of a kind that makes it impossible to help laughing. Its frank atrocity amounts to the ludicrous. It is an old Spanish proverb, and occurs in "Don Quixote"--of course in the mouth of Sancho. _A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush._ The extreme caution ridiculed by this proverb is of a kind which one would hardly have expected to be popular in a commercial country. If this were acted upon, there would be an end of trade and commerce, and all capital would lie dead at the banker's--as a bird who was held safe. The truth is, our whole practice is of a directly opposite kind. We regard a bird in the hand as worth only a bird; and we know there is no chance of making it worth two birds--not to speak of the hope of a dozen--without letting it out of the hand. Inasmuch, however, as the proverb also means to exhort us not to give up a good certainty for a tempting uncertainty, we do most fully coincide in its prudence and good sense. It is identical with the French "_Mieux vaut un_ 'tiens' _que deux_ 'tu l'auras,'"--one "take this" is better than two "thou shalt have it;"--identical also with the Italian: _E meglio un uovo oggi, che una gallina domani_; an egg to-day is better than a hen to-morrow. It owes its origin to the Arabic--"A thousand cranes in the air, are not worth one sparrow in the fist." _Enough is as good as a feast._ The best comment on this proverb that occurs to us was the reply made by Rooke, the composer (a man who had a fund of racy Irish wit in him), at a time when he was struggling with considerable worldly difficulties. "How few are our real wants!" said a consoling friend; "of what consequence is a splendid dinner? Enough is as good as a feast."--"Yes," replied Rooke, "and therefore a feast is as good as enough--and I think I prefer the former." _Love me, love my dog._ At first sight this has a kindly appearance, as of one whose interest in a humble friend was as great as any he took in himself; but, on looking closer into it, we fear it involves a curious amount of selfish encroachment upon the kindness of others--a sort of doubling of the individuality, with all its exactions. My dog (in whatever shape) may be an odious beast; or, at best, one who either makes himself, or, whose misfortune it is to be, very disagreeable to certain people; but, never mind--what of that, if he is _my_ dog? Society could not go on if this were persisted it.