Chapter 13
CHAPTER 5
1. My son, attend unto my wisdom, and bow thine ear to my understanding: 2. That thou mayest regard discretion, and that thy lips may keep knowledge. 3. For the lips of a strange woman drop as an honeycomb, and her mouth is smoother than oil: 4. But her end is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two-edged sword. 5. Her feet go down to death; her steps take hold on hell. 6. Lest thou shouldest ponder the path of life, her ways are moveable, that thou canst not know them. 7. Hear me now, therefore, O ye children, and depart not from the words of my mouth. 8. Remove thy way from her, and come not near the door of her house: 9. Lest thou give thine honor unto others, and thy years unto the cruel: 10. Lest strangers be filled with thy wealth: and thy labors be in the house of a stranger; 11. And thou mourn at the last, when thy flesh and thy body are consumed, 12. And say, How have I hated instruction, and my heart despised reproof; 13. And have not obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor inclined mine ear to them that instructed me! 14. I was almost in all evil in the midst of the congregation and assembly.
PONDER this chapter—ye that know not the poison and corruption of fleshly lusts. Painful experience had given the wise man wisdom and understanding. Therefore attend to it with fear and trembling. Man's own strength—the restraints of education or of self-discipline are powerless, as the green withes to bind the giant. Engrafted wisdom is the only effectual safeguard. This heavenly influence teaches us to regard discretion for the covering of our souls, and to keep knowledge for the warning of our fellow-sinners.
The extreme plausibility of the temptation is our call to attention. The deluded victim only sees the present gratification; only tastes, or expects to taste, the honeycomb; only hears the wily smoothness of the charmer's voice. But never is the beginning so sweet, as the end is bitter. God shews the wormwood; the two-edged sword; her path of death; every step taking hold of hell, as if invading it with a high hand, grasping it as her home. One feature of the tempter's wiliness is most remarkable. She winds herself in a thousand moveable ways, to meet the varying humors and circumstances. She works upon every weakness; seizes every unguarded moment—all this with one deeply hidden object—lest thou should ponder the path of life. The checks of conscience must be diverted. No time must be given for reflection. The intrusion of one serious thought might break the spell, and open the way of escape.
Can we wonder then at the earnestness of parental anxiety, forcing back the children playing on the brink of a precipice. Hear now—O ye children? We mean no austere restraint upon youthful pleasures. Only avoid the tempter's touch—her word—even her look. Remove thy way far from her. Not only go not into her—but—such is the contagion—come not near the door. To thrust ourselves into temptation, is to throw ourselves out of God's protection. The snare as one approaches becomes more enticing. The voice of wisdom therefore is—"Flee youthful lusts."
The loss of honor, taking the crown from the victim's head;11 years given to the cruel mockers of his misery; the waste of the family wealth;13 servitude in a stranger's house; consumption—slowly bringing the body to the grave—all is the bitter fruit of the neglected warning. Add to this the voice of conscience at the last, telling of slighted privileges, stifled convictions, abused knowledge. And will not this be the sting of thousands instructed in our schools, or the children of godly parents—now despising the reproofs of God, and the voice of these teachers, proclaiming their shame openly; perhaps making Christian assemblies the scenes of almost all evil?
Such is the picture of sin—its "pleasure but for a season," "its wages death eternal." Every sin unrepented here will bring its perpetual torment in eternity. Impenitence does not put away its sorrow. It only delays it to mourn at the last, when mercy shall have fled away forever, and nothing will remain, but the piercing cry of the accusing conscience—"Son! remember."5 There are no infidels in eternity, and but few on a death-bed. Sinner—the path of life is now open to thee. Ponder it anxiously—prayerfully. The light of the word, and the teaching of the Spirit guide thee to it.
15. Drink waters out of thine own cistern, and running waters out of thine own well. 16. Let thy fountains be dispersed abroad, and rivers of waters in the streets. 17. Let them be only thine own, and not strangers, with thee. 18. Let thy fountain be blessed: and rejoice with the wife of thy youth. 19. Let her be as the loving hind and pleasant roe; let her breasts satisfy thee at all times; and be thou ravished always with (err thou always in. Marg.) her love.
A restless dissatisfaction with our present blessings cherishes the lust for forbidden pleasures. Where contentment is not found at home—drinking out of our own cistern, it will not be found abroad. Thus conjugal love—the greatest earthly blessing—is the Divine remedy against incontinence.'First—choose thy love; then love thy choice.'8 Quench thy thirst out of thine own, and lust not after thy neighbor's, well. 'Enjoy thou the lawful delights and contentments of thine own wife.'10 Let the streams of a happy issue derived from thee, as little fountains, or springs from the fountain—be dispersed abroad, fertilizing the streets with their godly influence—children whom thou knowest to be thine own, and canst acknowledge without shame. Rejoice with the wife of thy youth. Receive her as the gracious gift of thy God. Cherish her, not with a sensual, doting, passion, but, as the loving hind and pleasant roe, with gentleness and familiarity.3 Count thyself most happy, as ravished with her love. Never err in giving liberty to thy passion, save in her society. It is not the having, but the loving of, the wife, that covers the soul. A man chained to an uncongenial wife is in imminent temptation. It is when she is as the hind and the roe, that the pleasures of lawful love preserve from lust—pleasures without a sting—yes truly—shadowing out the great mystery; "loving and cherishing our own flesh, even as the Lord the church."
20. And why wilt thou, my son, be ravished with a strange woman, and embrace the bosom of a stranger? 21. For the ways of man are before the eyes of the Lord, and he pondereth all his goings. 22. His own iniquities shall take the wicked himself, and he shall be holden with the cords of his sins. 23. He shall die without instruction; and in the greatness of his folly he shall go astray.
With such a view of the ruinous pleasures of lust, and the holy delight of God's ordinances;6 surely, if the sinner were not stupified, would he leave the pure fountain for the poisoned spring? Would he slight the "honorable" state of marriage, to embrace the bosom of a stranger—'loveless—joyless—unendeared?' Would not the thought—that the ways of man are before the Lord—arrest him in his course? But no. Practical atheism is the root of human depravity.9 The eye of man—even of a child—is a check upon him. But the thought of an all-seing God—even if it enters his mind11—inspires no alarm, conviction, or restraint. Oh! if men would but read—would but believe—their Bibles, how would this solemn truth—he pondereth all his goings—flash upon their consciences! Not only does he see and mark them as the Omniscient God; but he ponders them as the just Judge. Not one is hidden from his piercing eye.14 "He will bring every secret thing to judgment." He "will be a swift witness against the adulterers." No unclean person shall enter into his kingdom.16
But if no regard to reason, or to the All-seeing eye, will restrain the sinner, let him think of the trouble that he is bringing upon himself. He may go on awhile without trouble. God needs no chains or prison to bring him under his hand. Wherever he goes, his sins go with him, as cords to hold him for judgment. Does he think that he can give them up when he pleases? Repetition forms the habit. The habit becomes a ruling principle. 'Every lust deals with him, as Delilah with Samson—not only robs him of his strength, but leaves him fast bound.'2 Shutting his eyes against the light—he dies without instruction—the victim of his own wilful delusion—the greatness of his folly leading him astray—to perdition.
But is there no remedy for this deadly curse? Thanks be to God, cleansing is provided for the impure; "deliverance is proclaimed to the captive."6 Blessed Saviour! cleanse the leper in thy precious fountain. Perform thy mighty commission. Set the captive free.
CHAPTER 6
1. My son, if thou be surety for thy friend, if thou hast stricken thy hand with a stranger, 2. Thou art snared with the words of thy mouth, thou art taken with the words of thy mouth. 3. Do this now, my son, and deliver thyself, when thou art come into the hand of thy friend; go, humble thyself, and make sure (so shalt thou prevail with, Marg.) thy friend. 4. Give not sleep to thine eyes, nor slumber to thine eyelids. 5. Deliver thyself as a roe from the hand of the hunter, and as a bird from the hand of the fowler.
THE son has just been warned against the deadly wound of a stranger. He is now cautioned against a hurt from an imprudent friend. So graciously has our God made his book, not only our guide to heaven, but the directory of our common life. Yet we must often take its wise rules with some restriction. We are here earnestly warned against suretyship. But in some cases it is plainly allowed and approved. "A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly."8 And the passing of our word, or giving a bond, may be an act of prudent friendship, and of solid and permanent advantage. The caution is evidently directed against rash engagements, to which the young and inexperienced are especially exposed; striking hands (the usual mode of plighting faith) in an unguarded moment, and snared and taken by the words of thy mouth, by entering into virtual promises, without knowing how far they were pledged, or what might be the issue. Christian prudence will keep us clear from such engagements, which bring distress upon our families, dishonor upon our name, and reproach upon our religion. While the "good man sheweth favor, and lendeth, he must guide his affairs with discretion;"2 however grating it may be to incur the suspicion of unkindness. If, however, by any inconsiderate bond thou hast come into the hand of thy friend; the instant duty is, to humble thyself, and make sure thy friend—if thou canst prevail with him to answer for himself; and give thyself no rest, till, as the roe and the hind, thou be disentangled from the snare.
Our God, while he warns us against suretyship, has taken it upon himself. Praised be his name! He has given his word—his bond—yea—his blood—for sinners—a security, that no powers of hell can shake.
6. Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise: 7. Which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, 8. Provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest. 9. How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard? when wilt thou arise out of thy sleep? 10. Yet a little more sleep, a little more slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep: 11. So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man.
'It is a shame'—said the heathen philosopher—'not to learn morals from the small animals.' Yet what a proof is it of the degradation of the fall, that "man, created in the image of God," and made wiser than the creation4 should be sent—as here—to this insignificant school for instruction! The ant, having no guide, to direct her work, no overseer to inspect her, or ruler to call her to account; yet gathereth with diligent foresight the summer and harvest store for her winter need. Let the sluggard consider her ways and be wise. He sleeps over his work, and if for a moment, half-startled by some rousing call—still pleads for a little more sleep, and folds his hands to sleep. Present ease and freedom from trouble is all he calculates on—all he provides for. The future he carefully keeps out of sight, to be provided for, like the present, when it comes. Thus life runs to waste. Poverty comes step by step as one that travelleth, and, like an armed man, with irresistible violence.
Perhaps he perverts his Master's word to excuse his sloth. But if we are to "take no anxious thought for the morrow," (his true meaning) are we to take none at all? Care is a duty, a parental obligation,3 and therefore a component part of Godliness. Carefulness is a sin5—a needless burden to ourselves; an unworthy distrust of God. Prudent care is distinct from covetousness. The stores of the ant were, not the hoarding for the distant indulgence, but the supply for immediate necessity. The diligent use of providential means is to the honor of God.7
But much more loudly would we call to the spiritual sluggard. Thou, that art sleeping away the opportunities of grace; not "striving to enter in at the strait gate;" taking thy salvation for granted; hoping that thou shalt "reap that which thou hast not sown, and gather where thou hast not strawed,"9—Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways and be wise. Improve—after this pattern—the summer and harvest season—the time of youth—the present—perhaps the only—moment. The ant hath no guide. How many guides have you!—conscience—the Bible—ministers! She has no overseer. You are living before Him, whose "eyes are as a flame of fire." She has no ruler calling her to account. "Every one of us must give account of himself unto God." How long then, wilt thou sleep, O sluggard, on the brink of eternity? "Awake, thou that sleepest, and Christ shall give thee light." Take heed of passing by conviction. The intended work of to-morrow is a delusion. A thousand such tomorrows there may be; and yet thou mayest be found at last perishing in thy poverty, and the king of terror will come as an armed man to summon thee to judgment.
Christian! Look at sloth—not as an infirmity, but as a sin, affecting the whole man; growing upon us with unperceived power; and therefore needing incessant watchfulness. Allow it no rest, no time to root itself. Resist it in all its forms—bodily, mental, spiritual: indulgence of sleep and appetite: self-pleasing, in all its subtle and plausible workings. Live by rule. Have your time strictly arranged. Be employed in early work for God. Store the mind with useful knowledge; ever reserving the first place for an industrious and prayerful study of the book of God. "Mortify" this baneful lust "through the Divine Spirit;" drawing all your motives from the death,2 the life, the rules of Christ.4 This will ensure victory, and how enriching will be the spoil!
12. A naughty person, a wicked man, walketh with a froward mouth. 13. He winketh with his eyes, he speaketh with his feet, he teacheth with his fingers; 14. Frowardness is in his heart, he deviseth mischief continually; he seweth discord. 15. Therefore shall his calamity come suddenly; suddenly shall he be broken without remedy.
What a contrast between the inactivity of the sluggard and the unwearied diligence of the naughty person! This man of Belial as if his froward mouth—itself "a world of iniquity"—could not give sufficient scope for his malice, makes every member—eyes—feet and fingers—vocal and significant—an active "instrument of unrighteousness."8 These, however, are only the external manifestations. Deep within lies the laboratory of evil—"the chambers of imagery," teeming with "greater and yet greater abominations." Frowardness10 is in the heart. Here is the restless devising of mischief, sowing discord instead of unity and love. Such a pest to society brings on himself his own ruin—suddenly and without remedy.
The sight of this all-pervading power of sin is truly affecting. How utterly powerless is any remedy, save that, involved in the solemn declaration—"Ye must be born again!"
16. These six things doth the Lord hate; yea, seven are an abomination unto him: (of his soul, Marg.) 17. A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, 18. An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, 19. A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.
Man conceives of God in his heart as "such a one as himself," looking with indifference at sin. Here therefore Solomon names six—yea—seven15 abominations (most of them mentioned in the preceding list) which the Lord hateth,—a proud look, a lying tongue, a blood-stained hand. And, lest we should think, that he "looketh only on the outward appearance"—the heart—active in devising wickedness is brought out, and its ready organ—the feet swift in running to mischief. How hateful also is the false witness, surely reserved by him for judgment!3 Let the self-willed separatist remember the double stamp upon him that soweth discord among brethren. If the heavenly "dew descends upon the brethren that dwell together in unity," a withering blast will fall on those, who, mistaking prejudice for principle, "cause divisions" for their own selfish ends.6 Fearful is the Lord's mark upon them—"sensual, having not the Spirit." If we cannot attain unity of opinion—"perfectly joined together in the same mind, and in the same judgment;" at least let us cultivate unity of spirit—"Whereto we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule; let us mind the same thing."9
20. My son, keep thy father's commandment, and forsake not the law of thy mother: 21. Bind them continually upon thine heart, and tie them about thy neck. 22. When thou goest, it shall lead thee; when thou sleepest, it shall keep thee; and when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee. 23. For the commandment is a lamp; and the law is light; and reproofs of instruction are the way of life: 24. To keep thee from the evil woman, from the flattery of the tongue of a strange woman.
The authority of parental instruction is again enforced—God never intended young people to be independent of their parents. Instruction from every quarter is valuable. But from parents it is authoritative—the ordinance of God. Therefore let it not be a matter of occasional regard. Bind it continually about thine heart, as thy rule; about thy neck, as thine adorning. Let the law be the friend for all times and circumstances—a guide by day14—a solace by night—yea—a friend for thy waking moments. Take care that nothing hinders thy early converse with this faithful counsellor—before the world comes in, as the best means of keeping the world out. 'Happy is the mind, to which the word is an undivided companion.'17 Such a lamp—so full of light—in this dark world is an inestimable gift. Its reproofs of instruction—as the discipline of our wayward will—are to us as the way of life.
Specially valuable is this lamp and light in sensual temptation. Those who choose their own light and wisdom, are sure to fall into a flattering snare. The neglect of parental warning will furnish in the end bitter matter for unavailing repentance.22 Oh! let the Father's instruction be heard betimes—"Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way? by taking heed thereto according to thy word."
25. Lust not after her beauty in thine heart; neither let her take thee with her eyelids. 26. For by means of a whorish woman a man is brought to a piece of bread: and the adulteress will hunt for the precious life. 27. Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned? 28. Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be burned? 29. So is he that goeth in to his neighbor's wife; whosoever toucheth her shall not be innocent.
Solomon here gives our Lord's own rule. Resist lust in its first rising in the heart. By vain beauty, and wanton eyes, many a deluded victim has been brought to a piece of bread. Nay—so insatiable is the seducer's malice, that—like the huntsman, who never loses sight of his prey, till he has pursued it to death—she never ceases to solicit, till she has hunted for the precious life. Yet neither the present miseries of this wretched course, nor the certain horror of the end, can draw away the foot, that has dared to tread the forbidden path. Self-confidence sees and fears no danger. 'I can look to myself, I need not go too far, and I shall get no harm.' Did the infatuated sinner but open his eyes, he would as soon expect to take fire into his bosom, and his clothes not be burned; or to go upon hot coals, and not be burned; as to go wilfully into sin, and to escape the punishment. Sin and punishment are linked together by a chain of adamant. 'The fire of lust kindles the fire of hell.'8 He cannot afterwards plead the strength of the temptation. Why did he not avoid it? Who that knows how much tinder he carries about him, would wilfully light up the sparks? Heedlessly to rush into temptation, is to provoke the corruption, which is too ready to stir of itself. Beware of suspicious familiarities on the borders of sin. The temptation to criminality in this atmosphere is fearful.10 Whosoever toucheth shall not be innocent.
30. Men do not despise a thief, if he steal to satisfy his soul, when he is hungry; 31. But if he be found, he shall restore sevenfold; he shall give all the substance of his house. 32. But whoso committeth adultery with a woman lacketh understanding; he that doeth it destroyeth his own soul. 33. A wound and dishonor shall he get; and his reproach shall not be wiped away. 34. For jealousy is the rage of a man: therefore he will not spare in the day of vengeance. 35. He will not regard (accept the face of, Marg.) any ransom; neither will he rest content, though thou givest many gifts.
Here is no excuse or impunity for the thief. The full restitution that he is compelled to make—perhaps sweeping away all his little substance—proves that no extremity can excuse "the transgression of the law." Let him earn his bread by honest industry. If the fruits of industry fail, let him, trusting in God, seek the help of his fellow-creatures. If he have faith to trust, he will never be forced to steal.3 Yet his extreme temptation renders him an object rather of pity than of scorn—Men do not despise him.
But the sin of the adulterer claims no sympathy. His plea is not the cry of hunger, but of lust; not want, but wantonness; not the lack of bread, but of understanding. He is wilfully given up to his sin. He destroyeth his own soul.5 He gets a rankling wound upon his conscience, dishonor and indelible reproach upon his name. The tremendous passions of jealousy and rage shut out all forgiveness. The face of no one who offered a ransom would be accepted. No compensation, however costly, will content.
Such are the many sins—the awfully destructive miseries11—flowing from the breach of God's holy commandment. 'Oh! how great iniquity'—exclaimed the godly Augustine—'is this adultery! How great a perverseness! The soul, redeemed by the precious blood of Christ, is thus for the pleasures of an hour given to the devil; a thing much to be lamented and bewailed: when that which delighteth is soon gone, that which tormenteth remaineth without end.'
And shall not this fearful picture of sin and its consequences, (which Solomon, alas! was too well fitted to draw) teach us to dread the first approaches to danger; to close every avenue of sense to the entrance of this seductive poison; to shun all communications, that taint the purity of taste, that familiarize the mind with impurity, that give a vivid interest to associations from which a chaste imagination recoils with disgust? Let us learn to seek divine strengthening to "watch and pray" continually; and while we "think we stand, to take heed lest we fall."
CHAPTER 7
1. My son, keep my words, and lay up my commandments with thee. 2. Keep my commandments and live; and my law as the apple of thine eye. 3. Bind them upon thy fingers, write them upon the table of thine heart. 4. Say unto wisdom, thou art my sister, and call understanding thy kinswoman: 5. That they may keep thee from the strange woman, from the stranger that flattereth with her words.
THE study of wisdom in the word of God is here commended to us with affectionate earnestness, and with a beautiful variety of imagery. Let us ponder these valuable rules for practical application.
Let the whole heart and mind be occupied with it. Keep it as the daily means of life. Sir Matthew Hale told his children—' If I omit reading a portion of Scripture in the morning, it never goes well with me through the day.' Lay it up3 carefully, not on our shelves, but in our hearts. Let the whole word of God be our precious treasure. Receive the promises from his grace with simple affiance, and the commandments from his holiness with ready obedience. Stand with your eye in the land of promise; but with your feet in "the land of uprightness."
Maintain a jealous regard for the law. What care is necessary to keep the apple of the eye—that most tender part of the most tender member! With the same care preserve the integrity of the law. Let every part of it have its full weight. To explain it away, or to lower its requirements—breaks down the barrier, and gives an easy entrance to temptation. The sensual sinner is often a covert infidel.
Let it be at hand for constant use. Bind them upon thy fingers—that, being always in sight, they may be always ready for the present moment. And for their practical influence—write them upon the table of thine heart. Oh! my God—this is thy Almighty work. But thou hast engaged to do it for thy people.8 I "take hold of thy covenant." Lord! seal thy promised grace.
Let it be the object of tender affection—as our sister—our kinswoman. It is her embrace, that throws the harlot's beauty into the shade. Man must have his object of delight. If wisdom is not loved, lust will be indulged. The Bible therefore—not merely read, but made the cherished object of familiar intercourse—proves a sacred exorcist to expel the power of evil.
6. For at the window of my house I looked through my casement, 7. And beheld among the simple ones, I discerned among the youths, a young man void of understanding, 8. Passing through the street near her corner: and he went the way to her house, 9. In the twilight, in the evening, in the black and dark night: 10. And, behold, there met him a woman with the attire of an harlot, and subtil of heart. 11. (She is loud and stubborn; her feet abide not in her house: 12. Now is she without, now in the streets, and lieth in wait at every corner.) 13. So she caught him, and kissed him, and with an impudent face said unto him, 14. I have peace-offerings with me: this day have I vowed my vows. 15. Therefore came I forth to meet thee, diligently to seek thy face, and I have found thee. 16. I have decked my bed with coverings of tapestry, with carved works, with fine linen of Egypt. 17. I have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon. 18. Come, let us take our fill of love until the morning: let us solace ourselves with loves. 19. For the good man is not at home, he is gone a long journey: 20. He hath taken a bag of money with him, and will come home at the day appointed. 21. With her much fair speech she caused him to yield, with the flattering of her lips she forced him. 22. He goeth after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks; 23. Till a dart strike through his liver; as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life.
Solomon paints the deadly snare of the strange woman with a master's hand, with exquisite fidelity of coloring. A young man without understanding, in company with youths as simple as himself, taking in the dark of evening the way to the harlot's house. She meets him—her attire; her subtilty; her loud and stubborn voice; her feet at this late hour not abiding in her house; lying in wait at every corner of the street;7 her impudent face and conduct—all shew the harlot's forehead. She allures her victim with the garb of sanctity. She had just been engaged in special religious duties. Now she was come forth to seek diligently her lover, that they might feast together upon her peace-offerings, and solace themselves with love, with every indulgence. The goodman (perhaps the name of husband might have awakened conscience) is gone a long journey till the time appointed. Meanwhile therefore we may take our fill of loves without fear of interruption. Unarmed with principles, the weakness of resolution yields to the seduction of lust; and her unsuspecting prey rushes on to ruin.
Trace this sad end to its beginning. Was not idleness the parent of this mischief? The loitering evening walk—the unseasonable hour2—the vacant mind—all bringing the youth into contact with evil company—was not this courting sin—tempting the tempter? "The house was empty," and therefore ready for his reception, and soon altogether in his possession.4 How valuable are self-discipline, self-control, constant employment, active energy of pursuit, as preservatives under the Divine blessing from fearful danger!
See also the base varnish of religion. It is often a cover for sin. 'She durst not play the harlot with man, till she had played the hypocrite with God, and stopped the mouth of her conscience with her peace-offerings.' Nay—she seems to have emboldened herself in her wickedness, as if her meeting was a happy providence, the reward of her religious services.7 Beware of any voice—from the most reverend quarter, that manifestly encourages forbidden indulgence.
Observe also the infatuation of the snare. 'Man cannot be ruined, till he has been made confident to the contrary. A man must get into his victim's heart with fair speeches and promises, before he can come at it with a dagger.' Thus the harlot's flattering speech chained the youth blindfolded for destruction. As the ox goeth to the slaughter, unconscious of his fate—perhaps dreaming of rich pasture: or as a fool goeth to the stocks, careless and unfeeling; so does this poor deluded victim rush on with pitiable mirth or indifference, till the dart strikes through his liver.10 He hasteth as a bird to the snare, thinking only of the bait, and he knoweth not that it is for his life. What will recollection bring, but the fragrance of exciting perfume,13 changed into the bitterness of wormwood and gall; the short night of pleasure succeeded by the eternal night of infernal torment!
Lastly—mark the danger of venturing into temptation. Could we expect any other results, when we saw the youth going the way to the harlot's house? He intended merely his own idle gratification; and when he yielded, it was probably not without some struggle. But it is a just judgment, that those who fear not temptation, should fall into it. 'Who would avoid danger, must avoid temptation to sin. Who would avoid sin, must avoid temptation to sin.' The force, to which the youth's own folly subjected him, he could not plead as an excuse. When the first bounds of modesty are broken through, the door of the fancy is open to the tempter for the kindling of lusts. Thus to rush into the very jaws of ruin, is to "enter into temptation," by our own will, instead of being led or falling into it, under the providential discipline and dispensation of God. Self-confidence has ruined many a promising profession. Tenderness of confidence, sensibility of weakness, dependence on Divine strength and promise—this is the frame, in which "he that is begotten of God keepeth himself, and that wicked one toucheth him not."2
24. Hearken unto me now, therefore, O ye children, and attend to the words of my mouth. 25. Let not thine heart decline to her ways, go not astray in her paths. 26. For she hath cast down many wounded: yea, many strong men have been slain by her. 27. Her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death.
In the hand of a licentious poet, or painter, a picture like this might serve to contaminate the unsanctified imagination. But as it stands on the page of inspiration, it is God's solemn warning to children—whether in years, understanding, or experience. Now therefore, that you have seen the end of sin, hearken unto me. That you may not go astray in her paths, let not thine heart decline. An impure thought, a polluted fancy, an idle book, filthy conversation, foolish company, theatres or places of vain resort—these are her ways. Dread the first steps, and dream not that you can stop yourself at pleasure in her course. Familiarity with sin weakens abhorrence. Soon will you begin to love the object of detestation, and what! should you find too late, that you have chosen as your home her house, which is the way to hell, and to the chambers of death? Many, not of the meaner sort, but strong men, has she cast down wounded and slain. And a miracle is it of Almighty power and grace, that plucks the child of God from the brink of destruction!
Let not then the most established Christian dismiss this subject as of no personal concern to himself. Be it so—that "you are risen with Christ;" that you have "set your affections on things above;" that "your life is hid with Christ in God;" that you are looking for the glorious hope of his "appearing"—It is to you—in whom "fleshly lusts are yet warring against the soul,"—that the exhortation is given—mortify therefore your members that are upon the earth—even the worst members of the old man—fornication, uncleanness, evil concupiscence. And who—with the picture of the wounded and slain before him, will revolt?—"Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?—that he should need this warning? Look at the footsteps of the strong men who have gone in. Whom do we see come out whole? 'Behold Kings stood not before her; how then shall we stand?"2
Nor let present steadfastness, or seclusion from temptation, blind our eyes to the liability of yielding to the vilest indulgence. The eye of God discerns a far deeper corruption than appears in the outer man—such a totality of depravation, that even the affections, designed to be the sources of our holiest delight, become the principle and occasion of the most awful departure from the ways of purity and peace.
The Gospel presents the only remedy. The love of Christ is the counteracting principle to the love of lust. 'If impure love solicits, remember the holy love of thy Saviour to thee, proved by his most shameful death. Think of him, as looking into thy heart boiling over with corruption, shewing thee his wounds and exciting thee to a reciprocal love of himself.' The crucifixion of the flesh by a living union with Him "will keep us from our iniquity."4 "How shall we, that are dead to sin, live any longer therein?" "The flesh will still lust against the spirit."6 But the man, who walks with God in Gospel liberty, and Christian discipline and watchfulness, is safe.
But if sin be not mortified by these principles, sooner or later it will break out; if not, as here, to open disgrace,—yet so as to defile the conscience, to "quench the Spirit," and by a sure, though perhaps imperceptible course, to bring soul and body to hell,—to the chambers of eternal death.
CHAPTER 8
1. Doth not wisdom cry? and understanding put forth her voice? 2. She standeth in the top of high places, by the way in the places of the paths. 3. She crieth at the gates, at the entry of the city, at the coming-in at the doors. 4. Unto you, O men, I call; and my voice is to the sons of man.
LISTEN we now to the calls of heavenly wisdom—to the voice of the Son of God. Careless soul! shall this Divine call be slighted, when the allurements of sin and vanity have had power to arrest thine ear? Can ignorance be pleaded? Doth not wisdom cry? and that—not in the hour of darkness, and in the secret corners—but from place to place, in public concourse. Loud and unfettered the call—not to devils, but to men: not to the righteous, but to the sons of men—children of guilty Adam. It is the proclamation of the Gospel "to every creature." Wherever the word reaches, the offer is made. Wherever a lost sinner be found on this side of the grave, the free welcome of the Gospel meets him. If he be not saved, he is more lost than ever. His ruin lies at his own door.4
5. O ye simple, understand wisdom; and, ye fools, be ye of an understanding heart. 6. Hear: for I will speak of excellent things; and the opening of my lips shall be right things. 7. For my mouth shall speak truth; and wickedness is an abomination to my lips. 8. All the words of my mouth are in righteousness; there is nothing froward or perverse in them. 9. They are all plain to him that understandeth, and right to them that find knowledge. 10. Receive my instruction, and not silver; and knowledge rather than choice gold. 11. For wisdom is better than rubies; and all the things that may be desired are not to be compared to it.
The great Teacher calls the simple and fools to hear. And where else can they hear such excellent things? Worthy are they of the attention of princes!—his glorious person—his everlasting covenant—his rich and sovereign love to sinners.8 Often does the truth of God, by the tradition of men, or the subtilty of the father of lies,10 become virtually a principle of error. But here all is unchangeable righteousness. There is no froward perversion. Every such wickedness is an abomination.
But are they within the reach of the multitude? They—who "lean to their own understanding;" who care more to be learned than to be holy; who value the tree of knowledge more than the tree of life; who desire "meat for their lust," rather than manna for their souls—Such indeed make difficulties for themselves. The "voice out of the whirlwind" rebukes them, as "darkening counsel by words without knowledge." But 'the word of God is easy to all that have a desire to it, and which are not blinded by the prince of this world.'2 The "babes" are taught of God. He not only unfolds the truth, but opens their hearts to receive it. There will indeed be great depths. But they will grasp important, saving, truths. Here 'the wisest Solomon may fetch jewels for ornament, and the poorest Lazarus bread for life.'4—Come then—sinner—"sit," with one of old, "at the feet" of thy Divine Teacher. Receive his instruction, more precious than silver or fine gold. Enrich thyself with his satisfying and enduring treasures, compared with which all the things that may be desired are lighter than vanity. And will not the children of God daily draw more abundantly from these treasures? Oh! let them not be—like the pomp of this world—the object of gaze, but of active desire and increasing enjoyment.
12. I wisdom dwell with prudence, and find out knowledge of witty inventions.
How adorable is the Being here before us! His glorious perfections, each dwelling with the other in such harmonious combination! All the witty inventions of science, are ultimately traceable to this heavenly source. But his great mind was soaring far beyond. Now before his eyes was the vast discovery of man's salvation,8 found out, not by laborious investigation, but by the intuition of the Infinite God-head. Here is his most splendid display of wisdom dwelling with prudence—wisdom contriving for the highest end; prudence directing the most effective means. The same perfect combination controls all his arrangements, both as "the Head of the Church," and "the Head over all things to his Church,"11 for her present good, and his eternal glory. And what owe we individually, to "the riches of his grace, wherein"—by the removal of insuperable difficulties, and the communication of suitable grace—"he hath abounded towards us in all wisdom and prudence!"
Prudence is commonly thought to be only a moral quality. Here we see it to be an attribute of Deity. The humanity of our beloved Lord was filled with this perfection. With what Divine acuteness of wisdom did he find out the knowledge of the inventions of his enemies, and put them to shame! And how did this combination of prudence restrain him from hasty confidence, remove him from premature danger, and preserve him from giving needless offence!2 Praised be our God for such "treasures of wisdom" hid in "our glorious Head," ready for distribution for every emergency of his people's need!
13. The fear of the Lord is to hate evil: pride, and arrogancy, and the evil way, and the froward mouth, do I hate.
Such is the holiness of Divine wisdom! She dwells with prudence. But she cannot dwell with evil. Therefore the fear of the Lord, which is her very nature, is to hate evil. Thus of pride in all its branches—arrogancy of spirit, the evil way, and the froward mouth—the wisdom of God declares without reserve—I hate them. How clearly did he mark his hatred in the days of his flesh by the full exhibition of the opposite grace! "The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister." A proud disciple of a lowly Saviour! how offensive is this contradiction to our Master! What a cause of stumbling to the world!
14. Counsel is mine, and sound wisdom: I am understanding; I have strength.
This counsel, as we have just hinted, is not, as with man, the fruit of deliberation, but Divine intuition. It is not, that it flows from him; but that he is himself the essence—the Fountain-head.8 It is not, that he hath understanding to order and govern the world. But he is understanding. All is in Him. All is derivable from Him. "His understanding is infinite—His strength Almighty, everlasting." Thus we adore Him, we rest in Him, as the great "Counsellor"11—One with his Father in the everlasting plan of salvation—One with his Church; undertaking her cause;13 guiding her in all her difficulties and perplexities; His self-existent power ever ready to execute the purpose of his counsel. Behold him then, surrounded with the majesty of his mighty perfections—Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of "God."16 In all thy doubts and anxieties—counsel is mine and sound wisdom. 'In all thy conflicts and weariness—I have strength. See him as Man, filled with these Divine perfections.19 Remember his fulness is thy portion.
15. By me kings reign, and princes decree justice. 16. By me princes rule, and nobles, even all the judges of the earth.
Another glorious contemplation of this Divine Person! He proclaims himself to be the source of power and authority, no less than of counsel and wisdom. "KING OF KINGS was the" mysterious "name written upon his vesture." Yet his crown does not displace the regal diadem from the brow of earthly princes; nor is the sceptre to fall from their hands. These ensigns of power are to be held, but in subordination to his own. By me kings reign—not only by my permission, but by my appointment. They bear my name. They are stamped with my authority. Proud anarchy disputes the prerogative, and traces the authority to the people; only that they may cast off the yoke of God, and "do that which is right in their own eyes."3 Scripture politics lay down the offensive truth—"there is no power but of God; the powers that be are ordained of God. They are ministers of God," not servants of the people. Government in all its administrations—kings, princes, nobles, judges—is a Divinely-consecrated ordinance.5 Every kingdom is a province of the Universal empire of the "King of kings." Men may mix their own pride, folly, and self-will with this appointment. But God's providential counterworking preserves the substantial blessing. Yet if "the power be exclusively of God," then is wisdom, by whom kings reign, the very essence and person of God. And here is our rest, our anchor in this world's agitating storm. "The government of the world is on the shoulders" of "the Head of the Church." All things—all power in heaven and in earth—is delivered unto him of his Father.7 "The Lord reigneth; let the earth rejoice."
17. I love them that love me; and those that seek me early shall find me.
Now behold the grace of this Divine Person to his loving children. None by nature are interested in it. But such is the freeness of his grace, that he first implants love in their hearts, and then he cheers them with the assurance of his own love. Thus the first kindling of the flame is of Him. We love, because we are drawn. We seek—not by the impulse from within, but by the grace from above; and seeking we find. But it must be early seeking—the first desire of the heart—the object of our dearest devotion and choice. It must be early in the day—when our mind is most free;—the first-fruits of our time, consecrating the whole to him. Take care that we see his face first, before any other; else will our lamp be untrimmed, our soul estranged from his presence, our heart unready for his service. Let it be the early breaking in of the day of grace—the improvement of the first—who knows that they be not the only, opportunities of salvation. Never can it be too soon to seek. But how many have found it too late! And, oh! let it be early—the dawn of life—giving to the Lord "the kindness of youth"—"the first love"—before it has been devoted to the world; before sin has hardened the heart; before habits of sin have been formed and fixed. Children! Here is a word and promise for you. Remember—the bud of life is specially acceptable to God6—specially honored by him. Is it reasonable to offer the flower of youth to Satan, and reserve only the dregs of life for your Saviour?8 Every day you lose a world of happiness, you bind a chain of sin, you take a step to hell. Come then, and answer the call that is drawing you to Him, who is worthy of all. Never will you regret that you have come too soon. But many have been the sorrowing cries—Lord 'I have loved thee too late.' Come then by his help, and, in dependence on his grace, make him your first—your present choice. Lay claim by faith to this promise to early seekers; and you shall find.
18. Riches and honor are with me; yea, durable riches and righteousness. 19. My fruit is better than gold, yea, than fine gold; and my revenue than choice silver. 20. I lead in the way of righteousness, in the midst of the paths of judgment: 21. That I may cause those that love me to inherit substance; and I will fill their treasures.
What a treasure do early seekers find! This fading world is too poor a portion. Theirs are durable riches of eternity—the honor of "reigning" as kings "in life"—a righteousness, in which they are accepted with God, and conformed to his image. Is not this fruit and revenue better than the choice silver?14 And then, when our way is shut up, how valuable is wisdom's counsel!—so carefully leading in the midst of the paths—'at a distance from the extreme' on either side of the narrow way. Thus the sober-minded Christian is equally remote from formal service and enthusiastic delusion. His apprehensions of truth are alike distinguished from the dryness of system, and from loose unconnected principles. The intelligent and spiritually-minded Churchman is alike separate from exclusiveness or idolatry on the one side, and from indiscriminate Christianity on the other. He values highly his Scriptural ordinances; yet he neither mistakes them for the substance of the gospel, nor does he substitute self-willed effervescence in their room. This is the true viâ media—Christian unity, consistency, and fruitfulness. Here also is substance—things that have a being, in contrast with "things that have not"—solid realities2—"faith substantiating things that are hoped for." Here is no yawning vacuum; but a grand object to give interest to life—to fill up every vacancy in the heart. All that we could add from the world would only make us poorer, by diminishing that enjoyment of God, for the loss of which there is no compensation. There is one point—only one—in the universe where we can look up, and cry with the saintly Martyn—'With thee there is no disappointment!'4 Here all is sure possession, even while the earnest only is in hand. Do we ask—Whence does this substance come? Man had no part in deserving it. Free grace, not free will—is the procuring cause. It is an inheritance—endowed with such a royal—yea—Divine bounty, that the glorious Giver proclaims—I will fill their treasures. And will not the countless throng of the redeemed unite in the testimony—One Christ hath abundantly filled us all?
22. The Lord possessed me in the beginning of his way, before his works of old. 23. I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was. 24. When there were no depths, I was brought forth: when there were no fountains abounding with water. 25. Before the mountains were settled, before the hills was I brought forth: 26. While as yet he had not made the earth, nor the fields, nor the highest part of the dust of the world. 27. When he prepared the heavens, I was there: when he set a compass upon the face of the depth: 28. When he established the clouds above: when he strengthened the fountains of the deep: 29. When he gave to the sea his decree, that the waters should not pass his commandment: when he appointed the foundations of the earth: 30. Then I was by him, as one brought up with him: and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him: 31. Rejoicing in the habitable part of Ids earth; and my delights were with the sons of men.
What strong figure of speech can suppose an attribute here? So glorious are the rays of eternal supreme Deity, distinct Personality, and essential Unity; that now undoubtedly stands before us that mysterious, ever-blessed Being—"the Word, who was in the beginning with God, and was God." Curiously to pry into the mode of his subsistence, would be "intruding into those things which we have not seen."9 To receive his own revelation of himself is our reverential privilege.
How clear is his essential unity with the Father! The Lord possessed me—present with him in the bosom of Deity. I was by Him—in the same essence and blessedness.2 Such was "the glory, which he had with the Father before the world was." Neither man nor angel could declare it. The mode of his existence in the Godhead is generation—I was brought forth—"the only-begotten Son"—a term, which it is much safer to adore than to expound, expressing, as it does, what is unsearchable. 'Take care,' saith an old expositor, 'that in this generation we invent nothing temporal, carnal, or human. But rather let us worship this generation, beholding it by faith; and let us take heed from searching further than Scripture doth teach us thereof. Otherwise we should deserve to be blinded and punished for our great curiosity.'5
Not less clear is his eternal existence—in the beginning of the way of God—coeval with his eternal counsels. Before his works of old—set up—anointed—from everlasting for his covenant offices9—'destined and advanced to be the Wisdom and Power of the Father, Light and Life, and All in All, both in the creation and the redemption of the world.
Connected with his eternity was his agency in the work of Creation. Before the works was he brought forth. But when they were in operation, he was there—and that not, like "the sons of God," interested spectators; but an efficient cause.12 The whole detail of the creative work is brought out, that uncreated Wisdom might be displayed in clear and undoubted glory. Most fully therefore is here set forth 'the Divinity and eternity of Wisdom; meaning thereby the eternal Son of God, Jesus Christ our Saviour.'
Next he describes, the unspeakable blessedness of his communion with his Father. I was by him as one brought up with him—embosomed in him as the object of daily delight, rejoicing before him as the Fountain and Centre of infinite joy. All this mutual intimate satisfaction and delight had respect to the beginning of the way of God—his eternal purpose, and "the counsel of peace which was between them both." Here it was that the Father once and again proclaimed him to be his delight—"His elect, in whom his soul delighted—his beloved Son, in whom he was well pleased;" 'willing that by the Son we should approach to him; in the Son we should honor and adore him; and honor the Son as himself.'4
Yet how deeply interesting is it to see him rejoicing, not only before his Father, but in tile habitable part of the earth. Here indeed was to be the grand theatre of the work, that should fill the whole creation with wonder and joy. Here "the Serpent's head was to be visibly bruised,"6 the kingdom of Satan to be destroyed, precious "spoil to be divided with the strong." Here was the Church to be framed as the manifestation of his glory—the mirror of all his Divine Perfections.8
But the wonder of wonders yet remains—that he, who was his Father's infinite delight, and infinitely delighting in him, should find his delights from all eternity in the sons of men—that he should, as it were, long to be with us—that he should solace his heart with the prospect—that he should anticipate the moment with joyous readiness; that he should pass by the far nobler nature of angels "to take hold of man"10—to embrace man as one with his All-perfect self! But though he foresaw how they would despise, reject, and put him to shame; yet they were the objects of his everlasting love—the purchase and satisfaction of the "travail of his soul"12—the eternal monuments to his praise. Yes—thou adorable Redeemer, nothing but the strength of thine own love could have brought thee out from the bosom of ineffable delight to suffer such things for such sinners! But this was the joy set before thee, for which—unfathomable love! thou wast content to "endure the cross, despising the shame."14
32. Now therefore hearken unto me, O ye children: for blessed are they that keep my ways. 33. Hear instruction and be wise, and refuse it not.
Now therefore hearken. It is no mean and undeserving person that calls. It is none other than the Wisdom of God; the source of all light and knowledge; the King of kings;2 the loving rewarder of his children, specially of his young children; the rich portion and unfailing guide of his people.4 Look at him once again in his Divine glory, as "the only begotten Son of God;" the Mediator in the everlasting Councils of Redemption;6 the Almighty Creator of the world; the adorable Friend of sinners.8 It is he that calls the children of men to hearken. And how should his Divine Majesty and condescending love endear his instruction to us! Yet his promised, blessing belongs only to practical hearing—to those that keep his ways. For this obedience—that we may hear, and be wise—sovereign grace must open the heart, and give the ear. The guilt of refusing is inexcusable—a resolved will against the most gracious call.
Now therefore hearken, O ye children. Oh! happy moment, when the soul is made "willing in the day of his power:" when "the bands of love are drawing"14 us unto him! The cold, dead indifference is gone. The enmity is slain. And who will but now joyfully swear fealty—yea, count it his unspeakable delight to take such a yoke—to be bound to such a service? O my Prince! my Saviour! thou hast based thy dominion on thy blood. Thou hast purchased thy right by thy cross. Thou rulest only that thou mightest save. Take to thyself the glory of thy victory. I am thine—not my own—for ever.
34. Blessed is the man that heareth me, watching daily at my gates, waiting at the posts of my doors. 35. For whoso findeth me findeth life, and shall obtain favor of the Lord. 36. But he that sinneth against me wrongeth his own soul: all they that hate me love death.
This is the hearing of faith—the voice of Christ to the inward ear—the impression of his word upon the heart. The effect is unwearied diligence and patient expectation; like that of the priest's waiting at the doors of the tabernacle for the assured blessing; or the people watching at the temple gates for his return from his holy ministrations. This free and habitual attendance upon Sacred Ordinances forms an healthy appetite for Divine nutriment. The slight professor excuses himself from this "weariness"19 by the fear of legality, or the danger of overvaluing the means. But is there not at least equal danger of undervaluing the means, to which our gracious Lord has annexed a promised blessing? If in gazing on the heavenly Jerusalem the Apostle "saw no temple therein," what right-hearted Christian will doubt, that the life-blood of his soul consists, while on earth, in "loving the habitation of God's house, and the place where his honor dwelleth?"2 To be, like the servants of the temple, watching daily at the gates—when not involving the neglect of other imperative obligations—would doubtless bring an enriching blessing. Under all circumstances Wisdom's child will be familiar with Wisdom's gates. The Weekly as well as the Sabbath assemblies will be his delight. The "way by the footsteps of the flock, beside the Shepherd's tents," will be his constant resort. All the ordinances of prayer—meditation—Scripture-reading—godly conference, will be his salutary provision. When it is not so—when the common routine satisfies—when the intervals between the Sabbath, pass without any appetite for food, or any effort to seek the bread of the sanctuary—Christian, is not thy pulse beating feebly? Hast thou not lost a message, many a precious message—from thy Lord?5 Doth not he speak to thee—"Be watchful, and strengthen the things that remain, which are ready to die."
Observe the blessing breathed down upon the Lord's waiting ones. They find life. For he on whom they wait is the Author—the Dispenser9—the Keeper—of life. "He therefore that hath him, hath life,"11 with all its present privileges of favor of the Lord. 'The smiles of God make heaven; and they that obtain favor of the Lord, have a heaven upon earth.' Set then this expectation before thine eyes in waiting on thy God—'I am seeking life for my soul—I will wait at the posts of his doors: missing no opportunity of a means of grace. I shall not wait in vain.'
Would that the sinner—the thoughtless sinner—not the daring and ungodly only—would ponder how his heartless neglect of wisdom wrongeth his own soul! How cruel he is to himself, while he is despising his Saviour! Every bait of sin is the temptation to suicide—to soul-murder. The snatching at it is as if men were in love with damnation. 'They that hate me love death.' They love that which will be their death, and put that from them which would be their life. Sinners die, because they will die; which leaves them inexcusable, makes their condemnation more intolerable, and will for ever justify God when he judges. "O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself."
CHAPTER 9
1. Wisdom hath builded her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars: 2. She hath killed her beasts; she hath mingled her wine; she hath also furnished her table. 3. She hath sent forth her maidens: she criech upon the highest places of the city, 4. Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither as for him that wanteth understanding, she saith to him, 5. Come, eat of my bread, and drink of the wine which I have mingled. 6. Forsake the foolish, and live; and go in the way of understanding.
WE have delighted to contemplate the Divine Saviour in his glorious majesty, and specially in his wondrous love to the sons of men. Here his love is poured out before us. The parable of the marriage feast so clearly identifies the speaker, that we cannot mistake the voice. For who hath blessings so rich? Who gives an invitation so free—a welcome so encouraging? There, the King made the feast, and sent his servants to invite the guests.4 Here Wisdom is a Queen, attended, according to Eastern Here Wisdom is a Queen, attended, according to Eastern custom, by her maidens, and sending them, forth to bid to the feast. She hath builded her house—"the church of the living God,"—firm upon the pillars of eternal truth. The great sacrifice supplies her feast.7 And now that she hath killed her beasts—mingled her wine with the choicest spices, and plentifully furnished her table, let the simple and ignorant turn in hither—come, eat of the bread of life—drink of the wine of gospel grace and joy. Is there not besides a special invitation for her children—a table richly furnished for their refreshment; where they eat of the bread, and drink of the wine, such as "the world know not of?"
But are not all comers welcome to the Gospel feast? The Master's heart flows along with every offer of his grace. His servants are ministers of reconciliation. Their message is to tell of the bounty of Messiah's house, and bid sinners welcome to their Saviour. Here, sinner, is thy warrant—not thy worthiness, but thy need, and the invitation of thy Lord. All the blessings of his Gospel are set before thee—love without beginning, end, or change. Honor the freeness of his mercy. Let him have the full glory of his own grace.12
But this blessing can never be valued, till the path of the foolish be forsaken. Thou must forsake either them or Christ. To abide with them, is to "remain in the congregation of the dead."2 To forsake them, is the way of life and understanding. "Save thyself then from this untoward generation." "Come out, and be separate, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive thee, saith the Lord Almighty."4
7. He that reproveth a scorner getteth to himself shame: and he that rebuketh a wicked man getteth himself a blot. 8. Reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee: rebuke a wise man, and he will love thee. 9. Give instruction to a wise man, and he will be yet wiser: teach a just man, and he will increase in learning.
Wisdom's messengers must discriminate in the proclamation of their message. Only the simple will welcome it. The scorner and wicked will rebel. "Let them alone." Yet we must distinguish between the ignorant and the wilful scorner—between one who rejects from the first rising enmity, and one, who deliberately refuses the blessing—self-excluded from the general ministerial commission.
This is also the rule of Christian prudence. The Gospel is a thing too holy to be exposed to scoffing fools. Why should we reprove, where more harm than good may be occasioned? Avoid irritations. Await a favorable opportunity. Sometimes a sad, serious, intelligible silence is the most effective reproof. Whereas open rebuke might stir up a torrent of hatred and abuse;10 and, under provocation of spirit, the reprover might get to himself a blot.
Yet this prudence must not degenerate into cowardice, and compromise the primary obligation boldly to rebuke sin, and confess our Master.13 Every sinner is not a scorner. And a "word spoken in due season, how good is it!" That false delicacy therefore, which recoils from an unflinching profession, is treachery to our Lord, and deep—perhaps eternal—injury to our fellow-sinners. Has not each of us a tongue to speak? To suffer any therefore to rush into perdition without opening our mouths to save them is a sin of omission, which will cause a bitter pang to the awakened conscience.
The wise and just man gladly encourages well-timed reproof. Conscious of his own failings, he loves his reprover as a friend to his best interest; and would receive instruction from the lowest, as a means of becoming yet wiser and increasing in learning.
After all—wisely to give, and humbly to receive, reproof, requires much prayer, self-denial, love, and sincerity. But where the mind of Christ is mutually exhibited, it cements a bond of the warmest affection. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend."4 Happy is that church, which receives the loving admonitions of the Christian pastor with humility and thankfulness!
10. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: and the knowledge of the holy is understanding. 11. For by me thy days shall be multiplied, and the years of thy life shall be increased.
The repetition of this weighty sentence deepens our estimate of its importance. The fear of the Lord was a lovely grace in the perfect humanity of Jesus. Let it be the test of our "predestination to be conformed to his image."8 It is the genuine spirit of adoption. The child of God has only one dread, to offend his Father; only one desire—to please and delight in him. The fear of God is therefore connected with his love. 'The heart that is touched with the loadstone of Divine love trembles still with godly fear.' If this temper is the beginning, it is also (as the word imports) the head—of wisdom—not only its first rudiment, but its matured exercise. It is obviously combined with the knowledge of the Holy One. For if men did but know his holiness—"who would not fear thee, O Lord?" Days multiplied were the Old Testament reward. And truly the value of life is only realized in the knowledge and service of God. Inconceivably joyous to us is the prospect of years of life increased into a boundless eternity—infinite desires, fully satisfied; yet excited unceasingly to more full and heavenly enjoyment.
12. If thou be wise, thou shall be wise for thyself: but if thou scornest, thou alone shall bear it.
The consequences of our conduct—good or bad—chiefly reflect on ourselves. God cannot be profited by us;2 and he is infinitely above our injury. The wise man's light is a blessing to the church and to the world. But he is wise for himself—for his own advantage. The scorner is a grief to his minister, and a stumbling to his church. But he hurts no one so much as himself. He alone shall bear it. A surety indeed there is. But his scorning rejects him. He sinks therefore into perdition under a millstone of guilt—without remedy. This then is the ordinance of God. "Every man shall bear his own burden. Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap," life or death—a double harvest—for time and for eternity.8
13. A foolish woman is clamorous: she is simple and knoweth nothing. 14. For she sitteth at the door of her house, on a seat in the high places of the city. 15. To call passengers who go right on their ways: 16. Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither: and as for him that wanteth understanding, she saith to him, 17. Stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in secret (of secrecies, Marg.) is pleasant. 18. But he knoweth not that the dead are there; and that her guests are in the depths of hell.
Wisdom's free and gracious invitation has been before us. And we might almost ask—who could resist it? Now we have an allurement from the opposite quarter. For sin is no less earnest to destroy, than wisdom is to save. Fleshly lusts are directly opposed to Divine wisdom. 'The delight of the soul fixed on any thing but God and his grace is but spiritual adultery.' The woman of foolishness is clamorous, and, though "subtil in heart,"11 in the devices of Satan, is simplicity itself in her utter ignorance of right. So fearfully do sensual pleasures darken the understanding, that the tempter, from the very habit of deceiving, becomes the victim of her own delusion! With a shameless front she dares to present herself in the high places of the city, alluring, not only those who are "going the way to her house,"14 but the inexperienced, who are going right on their ways. Thus even the high-way of God, though a path of safety, is beset with temptation. Enticement or assaults wait on every step. Stolen waters16—secret indulgences—forbidden pleasures—are the bait. This was the successful snare in paradise.18 And who has not felt, that restraint provokes the dormant power of sin; as children will do that which is forbidden, because it is forbidden? But let the victim—ere it be too late—contemplate the fearful close in eternity. It is as if we might almost see that the dead are there; and that her guests—the wilful despisers of wisdom—are in the very depths of hell. Ah! if the blinded fool know not this, what but wilful inconsideration can have closed his eyes?
Reader—the wisdom of God, and the great deceiver of man—stand before you. Both are wooing thine heart—the one for life—the other for death. Both are intensely anxious for success. Wisdom crieth. The foolish woman is clamorous. Both take their station in the high places of the city. Both spread out this feast for the simple and ignorant. But how opposite the purpose of each! The one ready to make the simple wise unto eternal life. The other bearing away her willing captive into unutterable misery. Which is the voice that arrests thine ear—allures thine heart? Which is the feast, that excites thine appetite? Whose guest art thou?—Oh! remember that listening to the enticement cheats thee of thy present—no less than of thine eternal—happiness, and will banish thee forever from the paradise re-opened as thy home. The Lord preserve thee from the tempter's snares, by keeping thee closely walking with himself!
CHAPTER 10
1. The proverbs of Solomon. A wise son maketh a glad father: but a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother.
THE former chapters have beautifully set forth in continuous discourse, the nature and value of heavenly wisdom, contrasted with the fascinations of sinful folly. We now come to what are more properly (not of course excluding the foregoing) the Proverbs of Solomon. They are for the most part unconnected sentences, remarkable for profound thought, and acute observation, expressed in an antithetical or illustrative form; the whole comprising a Divine system of morals of universal application. The previous chapters form a striking introduction to the book. The glorious description of the Great Counsellor commends to us his gracious instruction, as the principle of true happiness and practical godliness.
Perhaps this first sentence may have been placed in the front, to point to the value of a godly education in its personal, social, national influence, connected both with time and eternity. Do not we naturally look for rest in our children, as the choicest gift of God. Faith indeed may be tried—perhaps severely tried.3 But the child, watched, prayed over, instructed, and disciplined, shall in the Lord's best time, choose wisdom's paths, and be the gladness of his father's heart.
Many a mother, alas! is chastened with the heaviness of a foolish son. In such cases—has not indulgence, instead of wholesome restraint—pleasure, instead of godliness—the world, instead of the Bible—educated the child? Want of early discipline; passing over trifles; yielding when we ought to command—how little do we think to what this may grow!7 God has laid down plain rules, plain duties, and plain consequences flowing from their observance or neglect.9 To forget a daily reference to them; to choose our own wisdom before God's;—can we wonder that the result should be heaviness?
2. Treasures of wickedness profit nothing: but righteousness delivereth from death.
The most substantial earthly treasures profit nothing. Much more do treasures of wickedness. What was the profit of Naboth's vineyard to Ahab, when in his "ivory palace" he was withering under the curse of God? What was the profit of the thirty pieces of silver to Judas? Instead of delivering from death, their intolerable sting plunged him into death eternal. What else will be the fruit of covetousness, but shame,16 disappointment—ruin?18 "Thou, O man of God, flee these things, and follow after righteousness." This is "the breastplate,"2 that covers the vitals in the fearful conflict. This is the pathway to eternal life. This is the deliverance from the sting, the terror, the taste of death. We must not flinch from this scriptural statement from fear of legality. Lay the foundation of acceptance deep and clear upon the righteousness of Christ. But upon this foundation, fear not to raise the superstructure of inherent righteousness. Take up the prayer and confidence of the man of God—"Let integrity and uprightness preserve me; for I trust on thee."5
3. The Lord will not suffer the soul of the righteous to famish; but he casteth away the substance of the wicked.
To spiritualize the temporal promises would be to lose great enlargement of faith. They are not restricted to the Old Dispensation. If David was preserved from famishing, and that too by those most unlikely to help him, Paul could also in similar trial "set to his seal"—"I have all, and abound; I am full."7 How does our gracious God double and redouble his engagements! He sends us to the fowls of the air for the confirmation of our "little faith."—"Are not ye much better than they?"9 Yet 'the promises require faith, whereby we believe that God helpeth us.' He may for the exercise of faith suffer us to hunger—yet not to famish. And does not his unfailing care for temporal provision convey the assurance, that he will not suffer the soul to famish. "The Good Shepherd knows his sheep." He "seeks them out in the cloudy and dark day," and brings them into his fold, where "they go in and out, and find pasture." Awful indeed is the contrast of the wicked—their substance cast out—themselves buried in the ruins of their own folly!15
4. He becometh poor that dealeth with a slack (deceitful, Marg.) hand: but the hand of the diligent maketh rich.
Every day's observation confirms the fact, that a slack hand impoverishes, and the hand of the diligent enriches, the harvest. Justly is the slothful condemned as deceitful, because he pretends to serve his Master, when in truth he has been doing nothing. He becometh poor by wasting away his trust. His life, which might have been a continual feast, is a continual vexation. Industry was the law of Paradise: and though now it bears the stamp of the fall,2 it is overruled as a present blessing; and in the ordinary course of Providence the hand of the diligent maketh rich. The Lord's visits of favor were never given to loiterers. Moses and the Shepherds of Bethlehem were keeping their flocks.4 Gideon was at the threshing-floor. 'Our idle days'—as Bishop Hall observes, 'are Satan's busy days.' Active employment gives us a ready answer to his present temptation—"I am doing a great work, and I cannot come down."6
Is then the man of God waxing low in his store? Has there not been a slack hand in drawing upon the sacred treasury? Has not he gazed upon the heavenly treasure, with "his hand in his bosom?" Has he not become poor by slighting his rich consolations? The Lord gives His blessing, as he gives the fruits of the earth—not to those that wish, but to those that "labor,"9—not to sentimental indolence, but to Christian energy and perseverance. And how enriching is this habit in the increase of our grace, and the enlargement of our confidence!
5. He that gathereth in summer is a wise son: but he that sleepeth in harvest is a son that causeth shame.
Indolence has just been contrasted with diligence. Forethought is here opposed to improvidence. The importance of opportunity is practically admitted in temporal matters.12 Joseph wisely gathered in summer and harvest for the coming need. The woman of Canaan14—the blind men—improved their present opportunities for their urgent need. And have not we our special season for attaining permanent good? Such a season is youth, when life is fresh—the time for discipline—storing the mind—stimulating the energies. How will the wise gathering in this summer give substance, vigor, high tone and power of usefulness in after-life! How often may we trace poverty of mind, enervation of character, unprofitable habits, to sleeping in this fruitful harvest! 'He, who idles away the time of his youth, will bear the shame of it when he is old.' And specially when we look at this season, as the time of Christian instruction, and anxious promise; our Father's pleading time with the wayward heart,17 ere yet it be hardened in habits of sin—is not the sleeper in such an harvest a son that causeth shame? Look, again, at the large harvest of opportunity in laboring for God; the multitude of religious Societies; the great and diversified machinery of the work of God—all needing counsel and active devotedness; the mass of fellow-sinners around us—all needing our sympathy and helpfulness—'While we have time, let us do good.' How high is the privilege of gathering with Christ in such a harvest! How great the shame of doing nothing, where there was so much to be done! Once more, was ever an "accepted time" so encouraging? Mark the abundance of the means of grace—the living verdure of the gospel. The Bible opens the way. The Saviour invites. The Holy Spirit strives with the conscience. The Sabbath draws us aside from the world, and beams with the peace, joy and hope of heaven. What everlasting shame will cover the sleeper in this golden harvest!
But am I the wise son gathering for my store? Or am I bringing shame to myself, by sleeping away the invaluable hours of "the day of salvation?" Can I bear the thought of that desponding cry of eternal remorse—"The harvest is passed; the summer is ended—and I am not saved?"
6. Blessings are upon the head of the just: but violence covereth the mouth of the wicked. 7. The memory of the just is blessed: but the name of the wicked shall rot.
Is not affliction the lot of the just? Yet how abundantly is it compensated by the blessings that are upon his head5—blessings temporal and spiritual7—from man, and from God!9 His very memory is a blessing to his family, and to the church. Fragrant is the "good report of the elders" immortalized in the Apostolic Book of Martyrs.11 Truly blessed is the memory of a godly parent—of a faithful minister13—of a righteous king—of a public benefactor15—of a self-denying Christian. No such honor belongs to the wicked. Often some outward stroke of violence covers their mouth, and marks them for condemnation,18 as they will all be so marked at the day of retribution. And even now their memory rots in corruption. Contrast the memory of the "man after God's heart," with that of "Jeroboam the son of Nebat;"21 or, in later times, Ridley and Latimer with the name of their wicked persecutors. Such is the blessing and curse of God, long after the men had passed into eternity! 'Thou mayest choose'—said godly Bishop Pilkington—'whether thou wilt be remembered to thy praise or to thy shame.'
8. The wise in heart will receive commandments; but a prating fool will fall, (be beaten, Marg.)
The heart is the seat of true wisdom, and a teachable spirit is the best proof of its influence. For who that knows himself would not be thankful for further light? No sooner therefore, do the commandments come down from heaven, than the well-instructed Christian receives them, like his father Abraham, with undisputed simplicity welcomes the voice of his heavenly teacher;2 and when he knows that "it is the Lord, girds himself" with all the ardor of the disciple to be found at his feet.
But look at the professor of religion destitute of this heart-seated wisdom. We find him a man of creeds and doctrines, not of prayer; asking curious questions, rather than listening to plain truths; waiting to know events rather than duties; occupied with other men's business to the neglect of his own.5 In this vagrant spirit, with all his thoughts outward-bound, he wanders from church to church, and from house to house, a prating fool upon religion; bold in his own conceit, while his life and temper fearfully contradict his fluent tongue. Too blind to respect himself,7 too proud to listen to counsel, he will surely fall into disgrace, beaten with the rod of his own foolishness. Let me look at this picture as a beacon against the folly of my own heart. Young Christian! Beware of a specious religion—without humility, consistency, love; because separated from close walking with God.
9. He that walketh uprightly walketh surely; but he that perverteth his ways shall be known.
An upright walk is Christian—not sinless—perfection; "walking before God," not before men.11 Impurity indeed defiles the holiest exercise. But if the will be right bent, the integrity will be maintained. 'Shew me an easier path'—is nature's cry. 'Shew me'—cries the child of God—'a sure path.' Such is the upright walk, under the shield of the Lord's protection and Providence;13 under the shadow of his promises; in the assurance of his present favor,15 and in its peaceful end. There will be difficulties. But a deliverance will be wrought through them; as the Babylonish captives were delivered through the fire from the infinitely greater danger of apostacy.17
From the want of this uprightness of walk, Peter denied the foundation of the Gospel. Learn then the value of this principle for an enlightened and full reception of the truth; that we may welcome "a Prince as well as a Saviour;" combine his sceptre with his sacrifice, his holy precepts with his precious promises: and mark the influence of a vital faith in godly practice. We shall thus carry out the rule of the Gospel into every thing, making God the master of every thought, word, temper, motive, not less in our secular calling, than in our spiritual devotedness.2 Such an upright walk will bring a happy confidence. But to bend our rule to our own humor; to pervert our ways to escape trouble, or for some interested end, will shake our confidence far more than the heaviest cross. The eye of God knows the deviation already, and will bring it to shame.4 Thus was Jacob chastened to the end of his days. Peter was openly rebuked6—Judas and Ananias8 are known in the records of the church as a beacon to the end of time. "Let my heart be sound it thy statutes, that I may not be ashamed. I will walk in my integrity; redeem me, and be merciful unto me."
10. He that winketh with his eye causeth sorrow; but a prating fool shall fall.
The contrast here intended seems to be between the man, who brings trouble on his fellow-creatures, and one who brings it upon himself. Mischievous sport to cause sorrow for selfish gratification! to make the eye an instrument of wanton sin!12 Scarcely less affecting is it to see the tongue a world of foolishness. But not a trace is visible of the likeness, in which man was first created. Every member is perverted from its proper use and glorious end. Man is a plague to his neighbor, because he is an enemy to his God. And because "the fool despises wisdom," he falls the victim of his own folly.
11. The mouth of a righteous man is a well of life: but violence covereth the mouth of the wicked.
The Indwelling Spirit—"a well of living water"—is the glorious privilege of the righteous. Hence his mouth, replenished from the heavenly source, is a well of life, sending forth refreshing waters. The precious talent of speech is thus consecrated to His service, "who made man's mouth." "Grace is in its measure poured upon our lips;" and our "tongues" become "our glory."17 Wit, originality, imagination, may furnish 'the feast of reason, and the flow of soul.' But how impoverishing is this pleasure compared with the godly instruction—perhaps with little intellectual attraction—that pours forth from a well of life! Servant of God! honor your high privilege of thus ministering a blessing to the Church. Enlarge its exercise by increasing your spiritual store, and walking in closer fellowship with your God. What owe you to His grace, who hath made your mouth a well of life, while the violence of the wicked falls back upon themselves, and covers their mouth with confusion!
12. Hatred stirreth up strifes: but love covereth all sins.
A simple but forcible contrast? Hatred, however varnished by smooth pretence, is the selfish principle of man. Like a subterraneous fire, it continually stirs up mischief, creates or keeps alive rankling enmity, disgusts, dislikes, "envyings and evil surmisings;" carps at the infirmities of others; aggravates the least slip; or resents the most trifling, or even imaginary, provocations. These strifes are kindled to the great dishonor of God, and the marring of the beauty and consistency of the gospel. Is not here abundant matter for prayer, watchfulness, and resistance? Let us study 1 Cor. 13 in all its detail. Let it be the looking-glass for our hearts, and the standard of our profession. Love covers, overlooks, speedily forgives, and forgets. Full of candor and inventiveness, it puts the best construction on doubtful matters, searches out any palliation; does not rigidly eye, or wantonly expose5 a brother's faults; nor will it uncover them at all, except so far as may be needful for his ultimate good. To refrain from gross slander, while abundant scope is left for needless and unkind detraction, is not covering sin. Nor is the "seven-times forgiveness" the true standard of love, which, like its Divine Author, covers all sins. And who does not need the full extent of this covering? What is our brother's all against us, compared with our all against God? And how can we hesitate to blot out a few pence, who look for the covering of the debt of ten thousand talents? Oh! let us "put on the Lord Jesus" in his spirit of forbearing, disinterested, sacrificing love—"Even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye."9
13. In the lips of him that hath understanding wisdom is found; but a rod is for the back of him that is void of understanding.
Solomon and his son admirably illustrate this contrast. Such wisdom was found in his lips—the fruit of an understanding heart—that "all the world came to hear of it."11 And "happy were they" justly pronounced, which stood continually before him, and "heard his wisdom." Rehoboam was as void, as his father was full, of understanding. His folly prepared a rod for his back. Learn then to seek for wisdom at the lips of the wise. The want of this wisdom—or rather the want of a heart to seek it—will surely bring us under the rod. In many a chastisement we shall feel its smart—in the loose education of our children; in the neglect of family discipline;4 in carnal indulgence. And how different is this rod from our Father's loving chastisement! That—the seal of our adoption—This, the mark of disgrace7—Will not the child of God cry—"Turn away the reproach that I fear, for thy judgments are good?"
14. Wise men lay up knowledge: but the mouth of the foolish is near destruction.
Solomon well proved his title as a wise man by his diligence in laying up knowledge! No wonder that wisdom is found in the lips; when "out of the abundance of the good treasure of the heart the mouth speaketh." It is "the householder" storing his mind not for selfish gratification, but for liberal and useful distribution.11 If the hoarding wisdom be cultivated in youth, what a store of valuable treasure would be laid up; yet all little enough to meet the coming trial! Let every day add something to the stock. So inexhaustible is the treasure, that no doubt, difficulty, temptation, or duty, will be found unprovided for.
Wise men lay up knowledge, for their own use—Fools lay it out. For want of sound wisdom, they only open their months for their own mischief—in profane rebellion; grovelling selfishness;14 ungodly worldliness; or hateful pride16—near to destruction,—how near—who can say?—But if they be not "taken away with a stroke" without remedy; they only stand out as monuments of the "much long-suffering of God, enduring the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction."
15. The rich man's wealth is his strong city; the destruction of the poor is their poverty.
This is as it appears on the surface. The rich man's wealth fences him from many invading evils, obtains for him influence and respect,21 and serves to him as a talisman against all sorrows. Thus "in his own conceit" it is his strong city. So prone are we to rest on the creature as the stay and comfort of life. All notions of God are blotted out, and man becomes a God to himself, The poor, having no such defence, dwell as "a city without walls," exposed to every assault. "Poverty comes upon them as an armed man," and sinks the spirit in consternation.
How secure—how happy then—we are ready to say—are the rich! How wretched the condition of the poor! But the glass of God's word discovers a more even balance. "Hath not God chosen the poor in this world, rich in faith, and heirs of his kingdom?" Think of Jesus sanctifying the state of poverty by his own blessed example.6 Think of the riches of his grace, raising the poor out of the dunghill, that he may set him with the princes of his people.
Both states, however, have their besetting temptations, needing special grace. The safety of both is, when the rich are poor in spirit" and larger in heart: and the poor "rich in faith," and "contented with the gain of godliness." "Let the brother of low degree rejoice, in that he is exalted: but the rich, in that he is made low."
16. The labor of the righteous tendeth to life: the fruit of the wicked to sin.
Labor—not idleness—is the stamp of a servant of God: cheered by the glowing confidence, that it tendeth to life. "Occupy till I come—Do all to the glory of God"13—this is the standard. Thus the duties even of our daily calling tend to life. God works in us, by us, with us, through us.15 We work in and through him. Our labor therefore is his work—wrought in dependence on him; not for life, but to life. And this is life indeed—the only exercise deserving the name—the only object worth living for. Lord! quicken us to "life more abundantly." "Sowing" thus "to the Spirit, of the Spirit we shall reap life everlasting." With the wicked, self is both the object and the end. His fruit therefore is sin. His master, so long as he serves him faithfully, cares little how or in what sphere. "He that soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption." Each tendeth to its own end. "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."
17. He is in the way of life that keepeth instruction: but he that refuseth reproof erreth.
Mercy unspeakable is it, that the way of life is opened! Instruction sets the way before us. He that keepeth instruction cannot fail of finding and enjoying it. The more we value that most needful part of instruction—discipline; the more shall we regard every practical lesson, in the heavenly school. To refuse the reproof—to be deaf to the voice that would save us from ruin—is a most fearful error—the proof of a foolish and unhumbled heart; the certain forerunner—if not corrected—of irremediable destruction.4 Child of God! is it not matter of shame and sorrow, that you should be so slow to keep such inestimable instruction; so prone to err from the way of life; and, though having the full promise of Divine guidance, still so often acting as the slave of your own will?
18. He that hideth hatred with lying lips, and he that uttereth a slander, is a fool.
Scripture history from the first chapter of fallen man abundantly illustrates this proverb. Cain talking with his brother; Saul plotting against David;6 Joab's treachery to Abner and Amasa; the enemies of the Church on the return from Babylon8—all hid hatred with lying lips. Such was also the smooth tongue of the Herodians, and more than all—the deadly kiss of Judas.10 So perfectly—yet with the most exquisite sensibility of pain—did our blessed Lord identify himself with the trials of his people! Closely allied with the hypocrite is the slanderer—both stamped by God with the mark of fools. For of what avail is this mask? Is there not an eye that looks through, and a hand that will tear off, the flimsy cover? And—if their hatred be vented against the godly, is not the day at hand, when their "rebuke and slander shall be taken away from the earth?"
But is this "root of bitterness" thoroughly mortified in the Christian's heart? Is there no insincerity in our intercourse with those to whom we feel, if not hatred, at least strong repugnance? In the language of polite courtesy, is there not much that is hollow, if not false. Do we really mean what we say? Or rather is there not the profession of regard absolutely contrary to our real feelings? Do we never bring them under ridicule, set them out in an unfavorable light, assert things upon mere suspicion, or attempt to raise our own name upon the ruin of their reputation? This surely in the eyes of God is slander—an offence against the "new commandment of love"—the badge of all the disciples of Jesus. These noxious humors are the bane of true godliness. They must not only be restrained, but "laid aside," if ever we would "as newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that we may grow thereby." Lord, purge our hearts from these hateful, hidden corruptions—even though it be by "the Spirit of judgment and the Spirit of burning."2
19. In the multitude of words there wanteth not sin: but he that refraineth his lips is wise.
Hypocrisy and slander are not the only sins of the tongue. In the multitude of words there is the sin of egotism. "Our own mouth praises us, not another." We love to hear ourselves talk; presenting our own judgment intrusively. There is also the sin of vain babbling, a canker to the vital principle. The fool talks—not because he is full, but because he is empty—not for instruction, but from the pure love of talking. 'Conversation is,' as Bishop Butler truly remarks, 'merely the exercise of the tongue, no other human faculty has any place in it.'5 The government of the tongue is therefore a searching test of the soundness of our religion. Considering therefore the sin connected with the multitude of words, it is surely our wisdom to refrain our lips, not indeed in silence, but in caution; that we may weigh our words before uttering them; never speaking, except when we have something to say; speaking only just enough; considering the time, circumstance, and person;8 what is solid, suitable, and profitable. This wisdom is especially valuable under provocation. And even in the unbending of innocent recreation, the discipline of godly sobriety is of great moment. The sins of this "little member" are not trifles. They need the full application of the Gospel? What but "the blood of sprinkling" could enable us to meet the account "for every idle word at the day of judgment."11 Woe to us if the great Surety did not bear the sins of our vain words, no less than of our grosser wickedness! Never let us think of these sins as anything less than the "nails, that pierced his hands and his feet." And will not this sensibility of sin quicken our prayer for more of this refraining wisdom? "Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips."
20. The tongue of the just is as choice silver: the heart of the wicked is little worth. 21. The lips of the righteous feed many: but fools die for want of wisdom, (of heart, Marg.)
The wisdom of refraining our lips must always be connected with diligence in improving our talent. If our tongue be our shame in the overflowing of sin; is it not also our glory?2 When employed in "speaking of the things touching the king," or in sketching the features of his transcendent loveliness4—is it not then as choice silver, refined from this world's dross, and shining with heavenly brightness? Who would not eagerly gather up the silver scattered in the streets? And shall not we enrich our store from the choice silver of the just man's tongue, pouring out its precious instruction before us? If, as regards this world's wealth, the Lord's poor must say—"Silver and gold have I none;" at least they may scatter choice silver with a widely extended blessing—"As poor, yet making many rich."
But we observe not only the excellency, but the usefulness of this member. The lips of the righteous feed many from the rich stores of the "indwelling word," ministering to them grace, the sole true and proper nourishment!7 'Their breath is food to others as well as life to them. When "the priest's lips keep knowledge, and they seek the law at his mouth," he feeds the church of God. And as our great Master broke the bread, and gave it to his disciples for their distribution;10 so does he now dispense to his servants heavenly provision, suitable and abundantly sufficient for the need of their flock. And every Sabbath is the wondrous miracle displayed before our eyes. The imperishable bread multiplies in the breaking. The hungry, the mourners, the weary and fainting; yea, all that feel their need, are refreshed and invigorated.
The wicked—his coffers may be full. But his heart being empty of the choice silver, is little worth. So far from feeding others, the fool dies himself for want of wisdom; or rather, for want of heart to seek it. He despises the lips that would feed him, and 'dies of famine in the midst of the rich pastures of the Gospel.' Oh! how often are we reminded that sin is self-destruction. "In me is thy help."13
22. The blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich, and he addeth no sorrow with it.
We have been told, that the hand of the diligent—here we see that the blessing of the Lord—maketh rich. Both are consistent. The one marks the primary—the other the instrumental and subordinate—cause. Neither will be effective without the other. The sluggard looks for prosperity without diligence—the practical atheist from diligence alone—the sound-hearted Christian from the blessing of God in the exercise of diligence. This wise combination keeps him in an active habit, humble, and dependent on God. For "except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain, that build it. The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." The rich then may receive their portion2 as the blessing of the Lord; carefully using it as a talent for his service,4 and for the good of their fellow-creatures. The poor may enjoy the same enriching blessing in the "gain of godly contentment." Their cottage is a palace, as the habitation of the King of kings; and neither life nor death, neither time nor eternity, can separate them from their God.7
The blessing of the Lord moreover hath this prerogative. He addeth no sorrow with it. Accumulation of riches may be the accumulation of sorrows. Lot's covetous choice was fraught with bitterness.9 Ahab wore a crown, and "lay sick on his bed" in discontent. Gehazi was laden with his bags; but the plague of leprosy was on him.11 Haman's mortification was the canker in his boasted glory. The rich youth's rejection of Christ, was the source of present—must we not fear?—everlasting sorrow? The worldling's recompense for his daily toil, is "eating the bread of sorrow. So"—mark the striking contrast—"he giveth his beloved sleep."14 Happy portion of the children of God! They "know both how to be abased, and they know how to abound." "All things are theirs."16 "Thy blessing is upon thy people."
23. It is as sport to a fool to do mischief: but a man of understanding hath wisdom.
The wanton sport of putting others to pain, argues the perverseness of a fool both in judgment and heart. Sometimes this cruel amusement may engage a man in the tempter's work.19 For fools who make sport for mischief may heedlessly go on to "make a mock of sin." But even without going so far, should not we guard against mischievous jokes, tending to wound a neighbor's character, or to give him uneasiness? Are we sufficiently careful against indulging our wit or humor at his expense? All this is not less unmanly, than it is inconsistent with the sobriety and gravity of a Christian profession. It is the pure native selfishness of the human heart. Should not also children's play be sometimes under restraint? Young people cannot be too strongly disciplined to thoughtfulness and consideration of others. Never let hilarity of spirits lead them to make sport of that, which ought to call forth sympathy and tenderness. A man of understanding is too wise to find a reckless delight in his neighbor's injury. The spirit of our Divine Master was according to his own law—eminently considerate and sympathising. Let us who bear his name, cultivate his self-denying, loving mind.2
24. The fear of the wicked, it shall come upon him: but the desire of the righteous shall be granted.
The sport of the wicked—how soon it is gone! But his fear—the evil which he feared, comes upon him. The Babel-builders were punished with the evil which they had labored to prevent. Ahab's device could not shelter him from his foreboded judgment.5 The rebellious Jews rushed into the ruin from which they fled. Belshazzar's trembling was realized in his speedy destruction.8 Thus are "the wicked like a troubled sea"—full of tossing anxiety. Do not "their hearts" in solitude "meditate terror?"9 Do not their consciences turn pale at the question—"Where shall the ungodly and sinner appear?" And will it not be the constrained confession at the great day of the Lord—"According to thy fear so is thy wrath?"
But if the fear of the wicked—so also will the desire of the righteous—be fully realized. Let them only be bounded by the will, and centered in the enjoyment of God;13 and to their utmost extent will they be granted. God did not raise them to be our torment, but our rest. True indeed—they are mixed with much infirmity, and their unreserved gratification, as with his favored servant, would be our destruction. But he is no less wise than kind: he separates the evil, and fulfils the good.16 He answers, not according to our wishes, but our wants; not as in our ignorance we may have asked, but as an enlightened regard to our best interests would have led us to ask.
But if our desires be granted, and even exceeded; faith and patience will be tried in the very grant. Growth in grace will be given by deep and humbling views of our corruption. Longings for holiness shall be fulfilled by painful affliction. Prayer will be answered in crosses. Yet the ground of our confidence is firm. All things needful will be given, and at the grand consummation every desire will be eternally fulfilled. "As for me, I shall behold thy face in righteousness; I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness."
25. As the whirlwind passeth, so is the wicked no more: but the righteous is an everlasting foundation.
Thus suddenly—as the whirlwind—does the fear of the wicked often come upon him. All his hopes, pleasures, and dependences; all his opportunities of grace, and offers of mercy, are swept away in a moment forever. Such a whirlwind was the destruction of the old world:—of the cities of the plain:—of Sennacherib's army.2 And such a whirlwind, infinitely more terrible, will be the coming of the Lord. "But he that doeth the will of God abideth ever,"4 as an everlasting foundation. Faith hath fastened him to the Rock of Ages; hath built his house upon this Rock; and no storm can root him up. But remember, this is the confidence of the righteous. Sin allowed and indulged will shake this foundation far more than all the outward assaults of earth and hell. "Hold fast then thy rejoicing" in a jealous godly fear. Thy portion is secure. Thy hopes, joys, and prospects are unchangeable. Thou canst look at trouble—yea, at death itself—without dismay—and feel 'I am safe.' But while "thou standest by faith, be not highminded, but fear."
26. As vinegar to the teeth, and as smoke to the eyes, so is the sluggard to them that send him.
A lively figure of the vexation of the sluggard to his employers. Suppose a fire to be extinguished, medical assistance needed, a message of urgent haste to be conveyed—he is worse than unserviceable. Common prudence dictates the selection of active and industrious servants. And such, when influenced by godly principles, are "worthy of double honor."8
Does then the sluggard disappoint and provoke his earthly master? See that we be not such sluggards to our heavenly Master. Men born of the Laodicean church are specially hateful in his sight. The slothful minister carries in a tremendous account to him, that sent him. No more pitiable object is found, than the man who has time to spare; who has no object of commanding interest; and is going on to the end, as if he had spent his whole life in children's play, and have lived for no useful purpose. He may probably have parcelled out a portion of his time for some miscalled religious duty. But he might as well be asleep as on his knees, in dissipation as meditation—so little pain—so little heart—is connected with his duties! Why "standeth he idle in the market-place?" It cannot be that, "No man hath hired him." His Master's call sounds in his ears—"Go ye into the vineyard." And at his peril he disobeys it.11
27. The fear of one Lord prolongeth days: but the years of the wicked shall be shortened.
The fear of the Lord is not a single grace. It includes the substance of all godly tempers. For all are radically one principle, from one source. It essentially differs from the fear of the wicked. They fear whom they hate. The child of God—whom he loves. Whether his temporal life be shortened or prolonged, he lives long in a little time. He is an infinite gainer by the contraction of life—his days prolonged and swallowed up in one unclouded day, of which "the sun shall no more go down." Justly is the fear of the Lord contrasted with the wicked; because the absence of his grace is their distinguishing mark, the principle of all their ungodliness.3 And often do we see the letter of this curse realized in the shortening of their years. Excessive worldliness wears out the spring of life. Sin often brings to an untimely end.5 Sometimes the God of vengeance breaks out, and "takes away the daring offender with his stroke." Yet if he be "visited after the visitation of all men," awful indeed is the course of a long life wasted in folly and sin—living little in a long time—"The sinner, being an hundred years old, shall be accursed."7
28. The hope of the righteous shall be gladness: but the expectation of the wicked shall perish.
The fear of the Lord—so far from being opposed to, is often connected with the hope of the righteous. And well may this hope be gladness; for 'it is accompanied with sweet patience, joyful hope, and crowned with a happy issue.' It has its origin in eternity.10 Its substance is Christ and Heaven. The foundation is the work of Christ.12 The security, the unchangeable engagements of God. Who then can doubt its character—"a hope that maketh not ashamed—sure and steadfast?"14 Instead of—as is commonly supposed—bidding farewell to gladness, it brings the only sunshine of the soul. Beaming from the precious cross, how does it dry up the penitent's tears! Or if the gladness be with-held for a time, yet it is sown; and the "sheaves of joy shall doubtless" follow the "weeping." And then—carrying as it were heaven in and about us17—how refreshing is the hope in its clear insight into eternity: as Bunyan describes, in one of his beautiful touches, his feelings on witnessing Christian and Hopeful's welcome into the heavenly city—'which when I had seen, I wished myself among them.' Oh! there must be a reality in that hope, which bears us away from earth, and makes its meanest heir richer and happier, than if he were the sole possessor of this world's glory. Let me hasten towards it—longing, yet not impatient. For how can I but desire to change my traveller's lot for my home; my toil for rest; my sorrow for joy; my body of sin for the likeness to my Lord; "the tents of Kedar" for "the innumerable company of angels, and the church of the first-born?" Do I grasp this hope? Then—as a godly man exclaimed—'Let who will be miserable; I will not—I cannot.'
But the wicked—they too have their expectation. For none have a stronger hope, than those who have no ground for hope. And this delusion too often reaches to the moment of eternity3—nay, even to the "day" of the Lord—to the very throne of God; expecting the door to be "opened to them" after it has been "shut forever;"5 as if dreaming of heaven, and waking in hell! The expectation of the wicked shall perish.
Christian! make sure the ground of your hope. Then set out its gladness, as becometh an heir of glory. Let not a drooping spirit tell the world the scantiness of your hope. But let it be seen, that you can live upon it with joy and gladness, until you enter into its perfect and everlasting fruition.
29. The way of the Lord is strength to the upright: but destruction shall be to the workers of iniquity.
Observe how the gladness of the righteous is "their strength." In the roughness of the way—"Go in this thy might"—is the cheering voice. "Have not I sent thee?" "He giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no might he increaseth strength." This promise however implies help for our work, not rest from our labor. We shall have strength for the conflict. But "there is no discharge from this war." There is supply for real—not for imaginary—wants; for present, not for future, need. The healthful energy of the man of God is also supposed. And who does not find the glow of health in an active rather than in a sedentary and indolent life? What makes the way of God practicable is—to be always in it—to have the heart always on it. What before was drudgery, will now be meat and drink. Our strength will be increased, not spent or wasted.
Thus was the way of the Lord strength to the upright Nicodemus. His first step was feebleness and fear. Walking onwards, he waxed stronger; standing up in the ungodly council, and ultimate the bold confessor of his Saviour, when his self-confident disciples shrunk back.13 Innate sufficiency we have none. The strongest in their own strength shall "faint and be weary." The weakest in the Lord's strength shall "march on and shall not faint." Thus—thus alone—"the righteous shall hold on their way; going from strength to strength; strengthened in the Lord, and walking up and down in his name." When we look at our own resources, we might 'as well despair of moving sin from out hearts, as of casting down the mountains with our fingers.' Yet who of us need to shrink from the confession—"I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."2
No such resources support the workers of iniquity. Captives instead of soldiers, they know no conflicts, they realize no need of strength. Even now "destruction is in their ways," and the "voice of the Judge will fearfully seal their doom.—Depart from me, ye workers of iniquity."
30. The righteous shall never be removed: but the wicked shall not inhabit the earth.
The frailty of our present condition, common to all, was not in the wise man's eye; but the state of the two classes, as in the purpose and mind of God. His way is strength to the upright. The righteous, walking steadily in the way, shall never be removed. 'They enjoy in this life by faith and hope their everlasting life.'7 No weapon that is formed against them shall prosper. "The mountains shall depart, and the little hills shall be removed; but my loving-kindness shall not depart from thee; neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed; saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee." Is not this a confidence, that earth nor hell can never shake?9
The wicked—have they any such confidence? So far from being never removed, they shall never inhabit. They have no title, like the righteous, as sons and heirs, to the blessings of earth; no hope or interest in the land, of which the earth is the type. Often are they cut off from inhabiting the one. Never will they be suffered to inhabit the other. As our character is, so is our hope and prospect. We gain or lose both worlds.
31. The mouth of the just bringeth forth wisdom: but the froward tongue shall be cut out. 32. The lips of the righteous know what is acceptable: but the mouth of the wicked speaketh frowardness.
Another image of the fruitfulness of a gracious tongue! It bringeth forth wisdom15—and that too in the practical exercise of knowing what is acceptable. This gift needs to be deeply pondered, and carefully cultivated, to give it a free scope, while we jealously confine it to its own sphere of influence. There is evidently much diversity of application. The same statement of truth does not suit all.—And how—what—when—to whom—to speak—is a matter of great wisdom.17 Yet this consideration of acceptableness must involve no compromise of principles. Let it be a considerate accommodation of mode to the diversity of tastes; a forbearance with lesser prejudices and constitutional infirmities; avoiding—not all offences (which faithfulness to our Divine Master forbids) but all needless offences; all uncalled-for occasions of irritation. "The meekness of wisdom" should be clearly manifested in Christian faithfulness. Thus Gideon melted the frowardness of the men of Ephraim.2 Abigail restrained David's hands from blood. Daniel stood fearless before the mighty monarch of Babylon.4 Their lips knew what was acceptable, and their God honored them.
But most of all—let the Minister of God study to clothe his most unpalatable message in an acceptable garb. Let him mould it in all the sweetness of persuasion, compassion,6 and sympathy. With what parental earnestness does the 'Preacher of Jerusalem,' in his introductory chapter, allure us to Wisdom's voice and instruction! Yet were his "acceptable words upright, even words of truth." And thus must "the priest's lips keep knowledge," if he would have his people "seek the law at his mouth, as the messenger of the Lord of Hosts."9 He must discriminate his statements, without diluting them. The "truth is to be proclaimed upon the housetop" to the multitude. But it is to be refrained from ungodly scorners. Always must he gain his people's ears, that he may win their hearts.
The froward tongue, pouring forth its own frowardness, provokes its own ruin. It shall be cut out. O my God, what do I owe thee for the bridle of discipline, that restrains me from self-destruction!
CHAPTER 11
1. A false balance is abomination to the Lord: but a just weight (a perfect stone, Marg.) is his delight.
HOW valuable is the Book of God in its minute detail of principles for every day's conduct! Commerce is a providential appointment for our social intercourse and mutual helpfulness. It is grounded with men upon human faith, as with God upon Divine faith. Balances, weights, money, are its necessary materials. Impositions; double-dealings; the hard bargain struck with self-complacent shrewdness—this is the false balance forbidden alike by the law and the Gospel.3 Men may "commend its wisdom;" God not only forbids, but he abominates it. The just weight often passes unnoticed. But 'such a perfect stone is a perfect jewel, and a precious stone in the sight of God.' It is his delight7—a testimony infinitely above all human praise!
We must not put away this proverb as a mere moral maxim. It was given as a warning to a flourishing Christian Church; and the sin here reprobated has been a leprous spot upon many a highly-gifted professor.9 Is it not a solemn thought, that the eye of God marks all our common dealings of life, either as an abomination or a delight? Have we never found when upon our knees, the frown of God upon some breach in our daily walk? Look and see, whether the "conscience has been void of offence towards man."11 "The righteous Lord loveth righteousness; his countenance doth behold the upright." They—they only—"shall dwell in his presence."13
2. When pride cometh, then cometh shame: but with the lowly is wisdom.
Pride was the principle of the fall, and therefore the native principle of fallen man.15 When pride had stripped us of our honor, then—not till then—cometh shame. This is the wise discipline of our God to scourge the one by the other. The Babel-builders,17—Miriam—Uzziah19—Haman—Nebuchadnezzar21—Herod—all are instances of shame—treading upon the heels of pride. Even in common life—a man will never attempt to raise himself above his own level—but then cometh shame—the most revolting recompense. And thus our God puts to shame the man, who refuses to stand on the low ground on which he has placed him. "Every one that exalteth himself shall be abased."24
Such is the folly of pride. With the lowly is wisdom. What a splendor of wisdom shone in the lowly child, "sitting at the doctors' feet, astonishing them at his understanding and his answers!" And will not this spirit be to us the path of wisdom? For does not the Divine Teacher "reveal to the babes what is hidden from the wise and prudent?" There is no greater proof of proud folly than believing only what we understand; thus grounding our faith on knowledge, not on testimony: as if the word of God could not be implicitly received, except as corroborated by other witnesses. Happy is that lowliness of spirit, that comes to God's revelation as it were without any will or mind of our own; humbly receiving what he is pleased to give; but willing—yea—thankful—to be ignorant, when he forbids us to intrude!
3. The integrity of the upright shall guide them: but the perverseness of trangressors shall destroy them. 4. Riches profit not in the day of wrath: but righteousness delivereth from death. 5. The righteousness of the perfect shall direct his way: but the wicked shall fall by his own wickedness. 6. The righteousness of the upright shall deliver them: but transgressors shall be taken in their own naughtiness. 7. When a wicked man dieth, his expectation shall perish: and the hope of unjust men perisheth.
Integrity or righteousness is a most valuable guide in all perplexities. The single desire to know the will of God, only that we may do it,3 will always bring light upon our path. It is also a covert from many dreaded evils. "God is a buckler to them that walk uprightly. Who therefore is he that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good?" Let the Christian "stand—having on the breastplate of righteousness; and that wicked one toucheth him not." Often indeed does it deliver from temporal6—always from eternal death. "Whoso walketh uprightly shall be saved. In the pathway thereof there is no death. If a man keep my sayings, he shall never see—never taste of death."
The perverseness that neglects this godly principle is the sin ner's own snare and destruction. And when the day of wrath cometh—as come it will—"a great ransom will not deliver." Riches will profit nothing; not even will they obtain "a drop of water to cool the tormented tongue."11 In vain will "the rich men of the earth" seek a shelter from "the wrath of the Lamb." They and their hopes will perish together. 'They were not living, but lying hopes, and dying hopes.'14 What a contrast to that "hope, which is as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil!"
8. The righteous is delivered out of trouble, and the wicked cometh in his stead.
Thus do these two classes change places in the dispensation of God. The same providence often marks Divine faithfulness and retributive justice. The Israelites were delivered out of the trouble of the Red Sea; the Egyptians came in their stead. Mordecai was delivered from the gallows; Haman was hanged upon it. The noble confessors in Babylon were saved from the fire; their executioners were "slain" by it;3 Daniel was preserved from the lions; his accusers were devoured by them. Peter was snatched from death; his jailors and persecutors were condemned.5 Thus "precious in the sight of the Lord is" the life, no less than "the death, of his saints." For the deliverance of one precious soul out of trouble he will bring a nation into distress. Yea—for the ransom of his own chosen people, he gave not only "Egypt" of old, but in later times "Ethiopia and Seba"—men for them, and people for their life.8 To what source but his own free and sovereign love can we trace this special estimation? "Since thou wast precious in my sight, thou hast been honorable, and I have loved thee." We do not always mark the same outward manifestation. But the love is unchangeably the same. And how should it at once lay us in the dust, and build our confidence upon an unshaking foundation!
9. An hypocrite with his mouth destroyeth his neighbor: but through knowledge shall the just be delivered.
Haman under the pretence of loyalty would have destroyed a whole nation. Ziba under the same false cover would have destroyed his neighbor. The lying prophet from mere wilfulness ruined his brother.12 Such is the hypocrite's mouth! "a little member;" but "a world of iniquity: set on fire of hell."
Then look at him in the church—"a ravening wolf in sheep's clothing," devouring the flock; "making merchandise with feigned words;"15 an apostle of Satan, so diligent in his Master's work of destruction. "These false Christs"—we are warned—"deceive many, if it were possible,—the very elect." But they—the just—are delivered through knowledge—'by the light and direction of the Holy Ghost, and by the lively knowledge of God's word, which giveth unto the faithful man wisdom sufficient for his preservation.' Learn the value of solid knowledge. Feeling, excitement, imagination, expose us to a "tossing" profession. Knowledge supplies principle and steadfastness. "Add to your faith knowledge." Guard against plausible error, usually built upon some single truth separated from its connection, and pressed beyond its due proportion. Do not the many delusions of our day give force to the earnest exhortation.—"Take fast hold of instruction; let her not go; keep her, for she is thy life?"2
10. When it goeth well with the righteous, the city rejoiceth; and when the wicked perish, there is shouting. 11. By the blessing of the upright the city is exalted: but it is overthrown by the mouth of the wicked.
The world, in despite of the native enmity of the heart, bears its testimony to consistent godliness, and rejoices in the prosperity of the righteous. Their elevation to authority is a matter of general joy.5 A godly king; a premier, using his authority for the glory of God;7 a man of God of high influence in the church—these are justly regarded as a national exaltation. Their prayers,10 wisdom, disinterestedness,12 and example, are a public blessing.
The wicked—they are only a curse to the community. Often has it been overthrown, or endangered by their mouth. So that their Perishing is a matter of present exultation. Such was the joy at Rome on the death of Nero, and the public rejoicings in the French revolution at the death of Robespierre.16 The people of God unite in the shouting; not from any selfish feeling of revenge; much less from unfeeling hardness towards their fellow-sinners. But when a hindrance to the good cause is removed; when the justice of God against sin,18 and his faithful preservation of his church is displayed, ought not every feeling to be absorbed in a supreme interest in his glory? Ought they not to shout? Is not the "Alleluia" of heaven an exulting testimony, that in the righteous judgments of the Lord our God is seen the hastening forward of his glorious kingdom?21
12. He that is void of wisdom (destitute of heart, Marg.) despiseth his neighbor: but a man of understanding holdeth his peace.
Pride and uncharitableness shew a man to be void of wisdom—ignorant alike of himself, his neighbor, and his God. For could he delight in magnifying "the mote in his neighbor's eye," had he wisdom to "consider the beam that is in his own eye?" Could he despise his neighbor, did he really know him to be his own flesh; perhaps even "a member of the body, and of the flesh, and of the bones of his Lord?"2 Could he look down upon him in the plenitude of pride, did he realize the consciousness, that—if he differs, it is God—not himself—"that hath made him to differ?" Surely this blindness is to be void of wisdom and destitute of heart. 'It denotes the want of a right state of mind, judgment, and affections. Such a man is without heart to what is wise and good.'
A man of understanding may see much in his neighbor to excite his pity, and stir up his prayers, but nothing to despise. He may be called openly to condemn him. But his general course will be loving forbearance; holding his peace; 'keeping himself from speaking or doing anything in scorn of another,' "considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted." Self-knowledge shews the man of understanding, and forms the man of love.
13. A tale-bearer revealeth secrets: but he that is of a faithful spirit concealeth the matter.
Another breach of love is here reproved. A tale-bearer, having no business of his own, trafficks with his neighbor's name and honor, and vends his wares of scandal, as it may be, whether for gain or wantonness. It is most unsafe to be within the breath of this cruel trifler with the happiness of his fellow-creatures.9 For as readily as he reveals our neighbor's secrets to us, will he reveal ours to him. All the bonds of confidence and friendship are broken in pieces. Let ears and lips be closed against him. If there be no vessel to receive his base matter, his words will fall to the ground, and die away. Children and servants—inmates in the house, and visitors in the family—should guard most carefully against revealing secrets, that have been spoken before them in the unreserved confidence of domestic life. This busy idleness has always been a sore in the church—a religion always abroad, occupied impertinently with foreign interference; while at home it is "the field of the slothful, grown over with thorns."12 Would we have our friend rest his anxieties on our bosom? Let him not see the results of misplaced confidence dropping out of our mouth. It is of great moment to our peace—that those about us should be of a faithful spirit, fully worthy of our confidence; to whom it is not necessary on every occasion to enjoin secrecy; true to our interest as to their own; who would rather refuse a trust than betray it; whose bosom is a cover of concealment, except when the honor of God and the interests of society plainly forbids. Invaluable is such a friend, but rare indeed in this deceitful world.2 Yet let it never be forgotten, that Christian consistency includes the faithful spirit; and the habitual absence of it under a plausible religion makes it most doubtful, whether the spirit and mind of Christ is not altogether wanting.
14. Where no counsel is, the people must fall: but in the multitude of counsellors there is safety.
Even in private matters the value of wise counsellors is generally admitted. The agreement of the multitude gives safety to our decision. And their difference, by giving both sides of the question, enable us to ponder our path more safely. Much more is the nation without counsellors, like a ship in the midst of the rocks without a pilot—in imminent peril. God has given to some the gift for government—"wisdom that is profitable to direct." Where there is no counsel the people must fall. In the dark time of the Judges, the want of a king led to anarchy, and the people fell into their enemies. Ten parts of the people fell, when Rehoboam listened to evil counsel. What a fall again was there of the people, when the counsel of godly Jehoiada was removed! The Good Lord deliver us from the deserved national judgment of weak and blinded counsellors!7
Daniel and Solomon, though themselves specially endowed with wisdom, governed their kingdoms prosperously by wise counsellors. The larger the multitude of such counsellors, the greater the safety. To one such, a heathen monarch owed the safety of his kingdom from desolating famine.
Often has the church been preserved by this blessing. Shall we not now plead for her safety in this day of her distress, that her people may not fall by the want of counsel; that her ordained counsellors may be largely filled with the "spirit of power, and of love, and of a sound mind," to establish her people more firmly in the pure faith of the Gospel?13
15. He that is surety for a stranger shall smart (be sore broken. Marg.), for it: and he that hateth suretyship is sure.
This repeated warning against suretyship is intended to inculcate considerateness; not to excuse selfishness, or to dry up the sources of helpful sympathy. It must not be for a stranger, whose character and responsibilities are unknown to us. For such incautious kindness—too often done to the injury of our family—we shall smart—if not be sore broken. To hate such engagements is therefore our prudent security.
But one exception we can never forget. The blessed Jesus, from his free grace—unsought—unasked—became surety—not for a friend (in which case we should have had no interest) but for a stranger. He became One with us in nature, that he might be One with us in law. He took our place under the curse of the broken law. He put his soul to the fullest extent in our soul's place; and then made our nature pay the debt, which all the angels of heaven could never have discharged. Oh! this was a smart indeed. Yea—sore broken was he under the stroke of his Father's hand. The Upholder of the universe was prostrate in the dust;4 his own creature strengthening his sinking frame. Had he hated suretyship, he would have been sure; (for what could have disturbed his self-existent happiness?) but we should have perished. Glory to his name! Though from all eternity he knew the bitterness of the smart, instead of hating—he "rejoiced and delighted" in his work. His was no rash engagement. For it was the arrangement of the everlasting covenant.7 Every way it was lawful. There was an infinite treasure to discharge the liabilities. The claims of justice were fully satisfied. Sin was as thoroughly punished, as it was thoroughly pardoned. There was no injury, but rather indirect benefit to the family of God.9 What then remains for us, but to fall down before this grace, and spend our days, as we shall spend our eternity, in adoring this wondrous manifestation of Divine glory!
16. A gracious woman retaineth honor: and strong men retain riches.
Everywhere the excellency of godliness meets our eyes. What loveliness, dignity, and influence does it impart to the female character! A gracious woman is known, not by her outward beauty, but by her "inner becoming ornaments;"13 which remain in full lustre, when external accomplishments have faded away." And though "the weaker vessel," she retaineth honor, as firmly as strong men retain riches. She preserves her character unblemished. She wins her children,16—perhaps her ungodly husband—into the ways of holiness. Thus Deborah retained honor as "a mother in Israel"—the Counsellor and the stay of a sinking people. Esther retained her influence over her heathen husband for the good of her nation. And still the gracious woman retaineth honor long after she has mingled with the dust. Sarah the obedient wife; Hannah the consecrating mother;21 Lois, Eunice, and "the elect lady," in the family sphere; Phœbe and her companions in the annals of the Church;2 the rich contributor to the temple; the self-denying lover of her Lord;4 Mary in contemplative retirement; Dorcas in active usefulness:6 are not these "good names" still had in honorable remembrance?
17. The merciful man doeth good to his own soul: but he that is cruel troubleth his own flesh.
Mercifulness is not natural benevolence, without God or godliness. It is "the fruit of the Spirit;" the image of our Father;9 the constraint of the love of Christ; the adorning of "the elect of God."11 It is not pity in words and looks. It is when our neighbor's trouble descends into the depth of our hearts, and draws out thence bowels of kindness and practical sympathy. The merciful man will ever find a merciful God. The widow of Sarepta and the woman of Shunem, each for their kindness to the Lord's prophets, "will receive a prophet's reward."14 The alms of Cornelius brought good to his own soul. In watering others with our mercy, our own "souls will become a watered garden."16 Even now "God is not unrighteous to forget our work and labor of love." At the great day he will honor it before the assembled universe.18
But not less certainly will cruelty bring its own mischief. Unsubdued passion is carrying about us the very element of hell, wanting nothing but immortality to perfect the misery. Cain found his brother's murder an intolerable trouble to his flesh. Joseph's brethren severely smarted for their unfeeling wantonness.21 Adoni-bezek was constrained to acknowledge the justice of his chastisement. The doom of Ahab and Jezebel was the curse of their own cruelty. "The treasures of selfishness will eat as doth a canker in our own flesh." O my God, save me from the tyranny of my own lust, and may thy perfect image of mercy be my standard and my pattern!
18. The wicked worketh a deceitful work: but to him that soweth righteousness shall be a sure reward. 19. As righteousness tendeth to life: so he that pursueth evil pursueth it to his own death.
Did Satan fulfil all his promises, truly his servants would be abundantly enriched. But the wicked worketh a deceitful work—ending in disappointment. Abimelech doubtless expected peace as the result of his murderous work. But he pursued evil to his own death. Ahab anticipated rest from the riddance of Naboth. But the words of his troublesome reprover were to him as the "piercings of a sword." How little did Gehazi contemplate the plague of the leprosy, as the issue of his well-contrived plan!2 Were the temptation presented in a naked form—'For this pleasure sell thy soul—thy God—thy heaven'—who would not fly with horror from the most enticing bait? But the tempter worketh a deceitful work, painting the present pleasure, and hiding the certain reality of ruin. Oh! it is affecting to see his poor victim eagerly pursuing evil4—yet to his own death. Not only his open acts, but his thoughts, motions, pursuits, ends—all tend to death. God has no place in his heart. And what else can be the end of a life without God? Thus the religious professor deceives others—perhaps himself. But his deceitful work will be the delusion of a moment—an eternity of confusion.
The sure reward of righteousness stands out in bright contrast. The "seed is precious;" and "the sheaves shall doubtless" follow. Yet the reward is not of merit, but of consequence—mercifully, but surely linked with Christian perseverance.7 But it must be righteousness. A routine of duties may skirt the borders of religion, at the utmost distance from the Spirit of God, and equally remote from the vital principle of the heart. But righteousness not only "delivereth from death," (a special mercy even with the loss of all;)9 but it tendeth to life—full of living enjoyment—of infinite—eternal pleasure. What importance then attaches to every godly principle! All have reference to eternity. If righteousness be our main end, God will make it our best friend; nor will he, like the world has done, reward us with ciphers instead of gold. Who will not love and serve thee, when "in keeping thy commandments there is a sure reward!"
20. They that are of a froward heart are abomination to the Lord: but such as are upright in their way are his delight. 21. Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not be unpunished: but the seed of the righteous shall be delivered.
The froward and the upright are often contrasted, as God looks at them. Frowardness is abomination to the Lord. All the contests between God and man, are—whose will shall stand?14 Most thankful should we be for the school of discipline, that makes us feel the privilege of "subjection to the obedience of Christ."16 Frowardness in the heart is specially hateful—most of all under the garb of external religion.18 Sinners encourage one another in sin—hand joining in hand. But all such "confederacies shall be broken in pieces." For as "it is the same with him to save by many or by few;" so when he lifts his arm of vengeance, it is the same, "whether it be against a nation or a man only."2 The flood; the judgment on Egypt; the chastenings of rebellious Israel in the wilderness; the destruction of Sennacherib's army—plainly prove, that hand joining in hand is a vain resistance to the hand of God.
The upright in the way are contrasted with the froward in heart; because, as the heart is, so is the way. These are Jehovah's delight. He singles them out from the ungodly world.5 Nay, even he points to one of them as a challenge to Satan to do his worst. Such is the condescension of his sovereign love—accepting his own work; stamping with open honor the graces of his people, sullied though they be with such base defilement!
Nor is their blessing confined to themselves. The seed of the righteous shall be delivered. 'The best way for any man to do his children good, is to be godly himself.'8 For have they not a place in their father's covenant? And is not this an encouragement—not indeed to indolence and presumption—but to parental faith—in leaving our children in this naughty world unprotected and alone?10 "The children of thy servants shall continue, and their seed shall be established before thee."
22. As a jewel of gold in a swine's snout, so is a fair woman which is without (departeth from, Marg.) discretion.
A most distasteful and yet an apt comparison! Let us see things as the Bible shews them to us. If a fair, light-minded young woman would see her own face in this mirror, she might well start aside with horror. Beauty indeed is to be honored as the gift of God. Yet in itself it is a fading vanity;14 and without discretion, it is as misplaced—as misbecoming, as a jewel of gold in a swine's snout. Would the ornament beautify the filthy animal? Rather would not the unnatural combination make it more than ever an object of disgust? All the charms of beauty are lost upon a foolish woman. Instead of "retaining honor,"16 she only brings upon herself disgrace. For just as the jewel is soon employed and besmeared in raking the mire; so too often does the fair indiscreet woman become subservient to the vilest passions. No ornament can give comeliness to a fool;18 while "wisdom maketh the face to shine."
Learn then to value far beyond beauty of face, the inner "ornaments" of grace, "which are in the sight of God of great price." Many a lovely form enshrines a revolting mind. All external—even all intellectual—accomplishments without discretion issue in barrenness. So entirely do we depend upon God's grace, for a fruitful improvement of his own gifts!
23. The desire of the righteous is only good: but the expectation of the wicked is wrath.
'Desire is the wing of the soul, whereby it moveth, and is carried to the thing which it loveth, as the eagle to the carcase, in the Scripture Proverbs, to feed itself upon it, and to be satisfied with it.'3 The desire of the righteous must be good, because it is God's own work. It must be only good, because it centres in himself. God in Christ is his portion: and what earthly portion can compare with it?—his object: and what object is worth living for—worth half a serious thought—besides? Only let me subordinate my desires to his will; and I shall be equally happy, whether they be granted or withheld.9 As a physician, "he knoweth my frame"—what is—what is not—expedient for me. "As a Father, he pitieth" my weakness.11 As a God, he fully supplies my real need. The desire, therefore, inwrought by him, fixed on him, submitted to his will—must be good. But might not an angel weep to see the corrupt mixture of worldliness,14 selfishness, pride.16 Yet is this against our better will. The main strength of the desire is to God; even though the tossing tempest of sin and Satan may combine and drive it out of its course. In despite of this mighty assault—"Lord, all my desire is before thee: thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee."19 'Thou didst put into my mind good desires; and thou wilt bring the same to good effect!'
But the expectation of the wicked is discontent and opposition to God. Often is it indulged, but with the fearful accompaniment of wrath. And how shortly will the deluding dream end in inexpressible—eternal wrath! Oh! let me daily test my desires by the true standard, and discipline them, that they may be fixed upon the true object; so that, "delighting myself in the Lord," I may find them "granted" "exceeding abundantly above" my largest expectations.
24. There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty. 25. The liberal soul (soul of blessing, Marg.) shall be made fat: and he that watereth shall be watered also himself.
God has put a mark of distinguishing favor upon the exercises of that mercy, which is his own attribute. He scatters his blessings richly around; and those that partake of his spirit do the same. Men may scatter in improvidence and sin, and it tendeth to poverty. But there is that scattereth, and yet increaseth. The husbandman, scattering his seed "plentifully" over his field, expects a proportionate increase. And shall not the man of God, "dispersing abroad" the seed of godliness—consecrating his substance and influence—to the Lord,—"as he has opportunity, doing good unto all men"5—shall not he receive a plentiful increase? The men of the world hazard all in uncertain, and often ruinous, speculations. But in this scattering there is no uncertainty—no speculation. Have faith in God; and laying out for him will be laying up for ourselves. This will be abundantly manifest either in a visible enlargement of earthly blessings,8 or in a satisfying enjoyment of a more limited portion. The reward of grace will be given in the gracious acceptance of our God,10 and in a blissful reception into everlasting habitations."
But is the covetous worldling happier—nay—is he richer—in withholding more than is meet? 'Seldom does he prosper much even in the world. For God metes to men in their own measure; and bad crops, bad debts, expensive sickness, and a variety of similar deductions, soon amount to far more than liberal alms would have done.'
Still more clearly does the Lord mark his blessing and his blast in the spiritual dispensation. The liberal soul is made fat in the healthful vigor of practical godliness; and while he is the soul of blessing to others, he is watered himself with the descending showers. Is not the minister refreshed by his own message of salvation to his people? Does not the Sunday School Teacher learn many valuable lessons in the work of instruction? Does not the soul of the District Visitor or the Christian friend glow, in carrying the precious name of Jesus to a fellow-sinner? Is not every holy temper, every spiritual gift, every active grace, increased by exercise; while its efficiency withers by neglect?16
26. He that withholdeth corn, the people shall curse him: but blessing shall be upon the head of him that selleth it.
Let us never forget, that we are the stewards of the gifts of God. To use them therefore for our own interests, without a due regard to our neighbor, is unfaithfulness to God. Is it not therefore a flagrant sin to withhold the very "staff of life;"2 thus holding back the hand of God stretched out in bounty over our land? This may indeed be a prudential restraint in a time of scarcity. Private interest may also claim a measure of consideration. But a grasping and grinding spirit—a spirit of selfish monopoly—raising the price for gain with manifest suffering to the poor—will bring a piercing curse. And here the curse of the people may be the curse of God. For if the cry of oppressed individuals5—much more that of an oppressed people—will "enter into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth."
The point of the antithesis apparently fails, only to give stronger security to the blessing. The curse comes directly from the people—the blessing from above. To him that subordinates his own interest to the public good—blessing shall be upon his head, descending immediately from the fountain of all grace.
Would that the cry for the bread of life were as earnest and universal as for the bread that perisheth! But if he be justly cursed that withholds the one; much more he that unfaithfully and cruelly withholds the other. And if blessing be upon the head of him that selleth the corn of this life; what is his privilege, who sells not indeed the bread of life, but dispenses it to his fellow-sinners "without money, and without price!" Will not "the blessing of him that was ready to perish come upon him?"9 The supply is abundant. Let the invitation be welcomed.
27. He that diligently seeketh good, procureth favor: but he that seeketh mischief, it shall come unto him.
There is no negative existence. All of us are living for good or for mischief. True happiness—solid usefulness—consists in centering the interest on one valuable object—seeking good. Nor must this be done cursorily. We must not wait to have it brought to us. We must look out for it, seek it diligently, rise up early, and spring with joy to the work. Let us awake to the conscious responsibility of having the means of blessing our fellow-sinners in our own hands. Every talent finds its suitable sphere, and may be "put out to usury" with large returns. There is the practical exercise of "pure and undefiled religion—visiting the fatherless and afflicted;" the teaching of the ignorant; the instruction of the young—the rising hope of our Church—a work of deepening interest and anxiety. Let each of us try what we can do; and, whether it be little or much, do it prayerfully, faithfully, heartily; not damped by trifling hindrances;11 nor making the power of doing little an excuse for doing nothing. In living for others, we live for our true happiness. In seeking diligently their good, we procure favor; often from man; always from God.2 He honors a little strength laid out for him. He accepts the single talent.4 And 'filling up every hour with some profitable labor, either of heart, head, or hands (as Brainerd justly observed) is an excellent means of spiritual peace and boldness before God.'
But Satan finds employment for his servants in seeking mischief. And how does their ceaseless energy put to shame our indifference! Yet their own mischief often comes to them. So Satan himself found it. The mischief that he brought upon man came upon his own head. His servants often become the victims of their own delusions,9 with the fearful aggravation of having dragged multitudes with them into the pit of ruin. What then will be the fruit of my diligence? Will it be a blessing or a curse to my fellow-sinners? O my God! may it be from thee, and for thee!
28. He that trusteth in his riches shall fall: but the righteous shall flourish as a branch.
Here is the cause and misery of the fall. Man seeks his rest in God's blessings, in opposition to himself. Riches are one of his grounds of trust. He depends on them, as the saint upon his God.12 And is not this the "denial of the God that is above?" A revolting truth indeed!14 such as only the heart crucified to the world by the cross of Christ can receive. Not that the possession of riches is a sin, but the trusting in them. Nor may it be always wrong to improve an opportunity of increasing them. But no one that cares for his own soul, and believes the testimony of the Word of God,17 will seek such an opportunity; or even avail himself of it without a plain call, and clear advantage for the glory of God. Let God be our satisfying portion. Let him be supremely loved and honored, and he will determine for us, whether the worldly advantage be a Providence, or a temptation in our path.
Disappointment will be the certain end of this trust. When we need a staff, we shall find a piercing spear.20 Or we shall fall, like the withered leaf or blossom before the blast. And how many a lovely blossom has thus fallen! Thus does "the rich man fade away in his ways!"23
But the righteous is the branch—not like the leaf or blossom, easily shaken and withered; but abiding in the true and living vine: full of life and fruit.2 There may be, as in nature's winter, times of apparent darkness. But the spring returns, and with it the branch flourishes; never ceasing from yielding fruit; yea—filled with the fruit of righteousness;" the branch of "the Lord's planting; the work of his hands, that he may be glorified;" to be transplanted in his own best time to the other side of the river, where "the leaf shall not fade, neither shall the fruit thereof be consumed."4 Shall not this prospect fill us with lively joy and praise?
29. He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind: and the fool shall be servant to the wise of heart.
A house at unity with itself, flourishes under the special favor of God. But a house troubled with division, "cometh to desolation." Often also the irreligion or ungoverned passions of the Head blights the comfort of the family.7 Indeed he cannot neglect his own soul without injury to his house. He deprives them of the blessing of holy prayers and godly example; while he troubles them with the positive mischief of his ungodliness, and himself inherits the wind in utter disappointment. Thus did the rebellion of Korah9—the sin of Achan—the neglect of Eli11—the wickedness of Jeroboam and Ahab—the perverseness of the re-builder of Jericho13—trouble their house to its ruin. Prayerless, careless Parents! ponder the responsibility of bringing a curse instead of a blessing upon your families. What! if your "root should be as rottenness, and your blossom go up as dust?"
What if a man—instead of building up his house, should be 'so foolish as to misspend himself, and come to be a servant at the last to him that is wise to get and keep his own?' Such retributions have been known.16 The abuse of the gifts of God, and the neglect of Christian responsibility, will not be forgotten.
30. The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life; and he that winneth (taketh, Marg.) souls is wise.
Here is the fruit of the flourishing branch. The whole course of the righteous—his influence, his prayers, his instruction, his example—is a tree of life. What the tree of life was in paradise—what it will be in heaven—that he is in this wilderness—fruitful, nourishing,19 healing. Wisdom to win souls is the precious fruit. For though only he, who purchased souls by his blood, can win them to himself (and who that knows the work but will give him all the praise?); yet has he set apart men given to the work; 'drawing souls to God, and to the love of him; sweetly gaining and making a holy conquest of them to God.' This was the wisdom of our Divine Master. He "taught the people as they were able to bear it," accommodating himself to their convenience,3 and their prejudices, if that he might win their souls. And truly were these opportunities "his meat and drink." For when "wearied with his journey, he sat down on the well," thirsting for water; far more intensely did he thirst for the soul of the poor sinner before him; and, having won her to himself, he forgot his own want in the joy of her salvation. In close walking after this pattern of wisdom, did the great Apostle "become all things to all men, that he might by all means gain some." God grant that no Minister of Christ may spend a day, without laboring to win at least one soul for heaven!
But—blessed be God!—this fruit—this wisdom—is not confined to the Ministers of the Gospel. Do we love our Lord? Arise! let us follow him in this happy work, and he will honor us. The righteous wife wins her husband's soul by the wisdom of meekness and sobriety. The godly neighbor wins his fellow-sinner to the ways of God, by the patient energy of faith and love. The Christian, who neglects his brother's salvation, fearfully hazards his own. He is gone back to his native selfishness, if his profession does not exhibit some image of that "love and kindness of God, which hath appeared unto men." What is the wisdom of the philosopher, the scholar, or the statesman—compared with this wisdom to win souls? If any one soul be taken, the honor passeth thought. No ambition so great—no results so glorious. "They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars forever and ever." Every soul won by this wisdom, will be a fresh jewel in the Saviour's crown—a polished stone in that temple, in which he will be honored throughout eternity.
31. Behold! the righteous shall be recompensed in the earth; much more the wicked and the sinner.
The inspired application of this proverb infallibly expounds the mind of God. It is introduced to us with a special call to attention—Behold! Let the righteous expect from their relation to God—not immunity—but strict recompence. They are under the discipline, though not under the curse, of the rod. Such is our too high estimation of the world, conformity to its ways and spirit, and forgetfulness of our inheritance and home; that but for the rod, we should soon backslide to our stubborn wantonness. The righteous therefore are recompensed in the earth. Every perfection of God is glorified in his dispensation towards them. As a wise Father, he will not indulge them in sin. As a holy God, he must show in them his abhorrence of it. As a faithful God, he will make the chastisements of his rod the means of their restoration.2 But—blessed be God—all the penal curse is subtracted. We are recompensed in the earth; not, as we deserve to be, in hell. Nay—"we are chastened of the Lord, that we might not be condemned with the world;" punished here, that we might be spared forever; recompensed in the earth, to be made meet for heaven.
Much more then will the wicked and the sinner be recompensed. If the children be scourged, much more the rebels. If the fatherly corrections be so terrible, even when the child be accepted; what must be the unmingled wrath for the wilful sinner! "If the righteous scarcely be saved; where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear?" "If they do these things in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry?"6 "Behold, the day of the Lord cometh, that shall burn as an oven; and all that do wickedly shall be as stubble." Let the wicked tremble. Let the child of God be humbled in the dust—"My flesh trembleth for fear of thee, and I am afraid of thy judgments."
CHAPTER 12
1. Whoso loveth instruction loveth knowledge: but he that hateth reproof is brutish.
Instruction—as we gather from the contrast, chiefly implies discipline—that most needful course for acquiring spiritual know ledge. For so contrary is it to our proud hearts, that the submission of the will is our only road to Christian attainment.11 Yet the value of this attainment abundantly covers the cost. A faithful ministry, therefore, is a most valuable blessing; and indeed, all instructive discipline "may well be loved as the way of life."
To hate reproof—as if it were an affront to be told of our faults—argues not only want of grace, but want of understanding—brutish folly: 'like the horse, which bites and kicks at the man, who performs a painful operation upon him; though absolutely necessary for removing a dangerous distemper. He is surely a brute, and not a rational creature, who has swallowed poison, and will rather suffer it to take its course, than admit the necessary relief of medicine, lest he should be obliged to confess his folly in exposing himself to the need of it.' O for a teachable spirit, to "sit at the feet of our Divine Master," and "learn of Him!"
2. A good man obtaineth favor of the Lord: but a man of wicked devices will he condemn.
Goodness is "the fruit of the Spirit." The good man therefore is a man filled with the Spirit. He reflects the munificent goodness of God. He is not only the subject, but the almoner, of grace; not only "enriched" with all blessings for himself, but "unto all bountifulness"6 for the service of his fellow-creatures. As a benefactor to mankind, he commands our devoted gratitude, but as a far richer reward (of grace indeed—not of debt8) he obtaineth favor of the Lord. What are all this world's treasures compared with it?10 Is it not the joy of our salvation; our soothing mercy;12 our covering shield, in the near prospect of eternity—our absorbing interest?14 And if here, in a world of sin, it be "life, yea, better than life;" what will be the unclouded sunshine—"the path of life"—"the fulness of joy in his heavenly presence—the pleasures at his right hand for evermore!"16
The contrast to the good man is—not the man—(which alas! may be a child of God) in whom wicked devices are found, but the man of these devices. He lives in them as his element; his mind is set upon them. He contrives them. He follows them as his course and delight. Instead of favor, here is condemnation justly merited. He is "condemned already." Nay—his sting of conscience and the curse of God is present condemnation. But what will it be, when the All-seeing Judge "shall be a swift witness against him!"21
3. A man shall not be established by wickedness: but the root of the righteous shall not be moved.
The man of evil devices may prosper for a time, but he shall not be established by wickedness; except so far as God may permit it, in the sovereignty of his purposes, and the judicial chastening of his wrath. But how soon was the successful treason of Abimelech, and the Israelitish kings2 brought to an end! Ahab strove to establish himself in despite of the threatened curse of God. He increased his family, trained them with care under the tutelage of his choicest nobility. And surely one at least out of seventy might remain to inherit his throne. But this was the vain "striving" of the worm "with his Maker." One hour swept them all away; and not a word of the threatening fell to the ground. The evil device of Caiaphas also, to establish his nation by wickedness was the means of its overthrow. Such is the infatuation of sin!
Firm and unshaken is the condition of the righteous. Their leaves may wither in the blast. Their branches may tremble in the fury of the tempest. But their root—the true principle of life shall not be moved. They "are scarcely saved"—not without many tossings. But they are surely saved—beyond the powers of hell to destroy. Does not thy faith—Christian—sometimes faint in the wearisome assaults of thy implacable enemy? Rejoice in the assurance, that it cannot fail. Thou art "rooted and grounded" in a sure foundation.7 "The Lord, who is thy strength"—let him be "thy song"—'He only is my Rock and my salvation, I shall not be greatly moved—I shall not be moved at all.'
And how bright is this prospect for the Church! It shall not be moved. Triumphant is her confidence in the day of conflict. "The gates of hell shall not prevail. No weapon that is formed against her shall prosper."10
4. A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband: but she that maketh ashamed is as rottenness in his bones.
Faithful, chaste,12 reverentially obedient, immoveable in affection,14 delighting to see her husband honored, respected, and loved; covering as far as may be his failings; prudent in the management of her family, conscientious in the charge of her domestic duties;16 kind and considerate to all around her; and—as the root of all "fearing the Lord."18—Such is the virtuous woman—"the weaker vessel" indeed, but a woman of strength, with all her graces in godly energy. Not only is she the ring on her husband's finger, or the chain of gold around his neck. That were far too low. She is his crown—his brightest ornament—drawing the eyes of all upon him, as eminently honored and blessed.2
Truly affecting is the contrast of "a contentious," imperious, extravagant, perhaps unfaithful wife; in the levity of her conduct forgetting her proper place and subjection: seeking the admiration of others, instead of being satisfied with her husband's regard. This is indeed a living disease—rottenness in his bones; marring his usefulness; undermining his happiness; perhaps driving him into temptation, and "a snare of the devil." Let a young woman, in contemplating this holy union, ponder well and in deep prayer its weighty responsibility. Will she be a crown to her husband, or one that maketh ashamed? Will she be what God made the woman—"an help meet," or—what Satan made her—a tempter to her husband? If she be not a crown to him, she will be a shame to herself. If she be rottenness to his bones, she will be a plague to her own. For what is the woman's happiness, but to be the helper of her husband's joy? Oh! let their mutual comfort be sought, where alone it can be solidly found—in "dwelling together as heirs of the grace of life." Better never to have seen each other, than to live together forgetful of this great end of their eternal happiness.
5. The thoughts of the righteous are right: but the counsels of the wicked are deceit. 6. The words of the wicked are to lie in wait for blood: but the mouth of the upright shall deliver them. 7. The wicked are overthrown, and are not: but the house of the righteous shall stand.
The workings of good and evil are here traced to the fountain-head. The thoughts of the righteous—"renewed in the spirit of their mind"—are right. He learns to measure every thing by the unerring rule, and to lean upon his God in the careful distrust of himself. Many indeed are his deviations. But there is an overcoming law within that, in despite of all oppositions, fixes his thoughts with delight on God and his law, and gives to them a single bias for his service.12 Widely different are the thoughts of the wicked, ripening into counsels fraught with deceit. Such were the counsels of Joseph's brethren to deceive their father; of Daniel's enemies, under pretence of honoring the king;14 of Sanballat, under the guise of friendship; of Haman, under the cover of patriotism; of Herod, under the profession of worshipping the infant Saviour.2 Indeed, from such "a corrupt fountain" as man's heart, what else can be expected but "bitter waters?"
Then look at words—the natural organ of the thoughts. How murderous were the words of Ahithophel, the trap laid for our beloved Lord;5 the conspiracy against the great Apostle—lying in wait for blood! The fiercer ebullitions of humanity may indeed be softened down and restrained.8 But the principles remain the same. The fiery elements only lie in slumbering cover, and often break out, wasting the very face of society. Yet even in this bursting storm the mouth of the upright preserves them. The wisdom of our Divine Master was an unfailing preservative. The same mouth was a cover to his upright disciples, with little of man's help, and much of man's opposition; "None could gainsay or resist."
But do we not wonder at the long suffering, that suffers the wicked thus to load the earth with such a mass of guilt and misery? Yet their triumphing is but for a moment. Look at Haman—his deceitful counsels, his bloody words. He is overthrown, and is not. For "shall not God avenge his own elect?"14 Their house, feeble as it often is, and brought low, shall stand. They shall "have a place in the Lord's house," immoveable here, and in eternity.17 Yes—those whose thoughts and words are up-right they shall stand, when all is sinking around—"They shall be mine, saith the Lord, in that day when I shall make up my jewels."
8. A man shall be commended according to his wisdom: but he that is of a perverse heart shall be despised.
The ordinary judgment of this world is to "put darkness for light," and therefore to commend according to folly, rather than according to wisdom. And yet even hated wisdom often carries its voice of conviction both to conscience and judgment, and a man is commended according to it. Hence the elevation of Joseph and Daniel;21 the honor paid to David in private life; and the universal respect shown to his wise son.23 Our Lord's wisdom was also commended—not only by the popular voice, but even from the testimony of his enemies.25 The wisdom of Stephen, literally "making his face to shine," overpowered his beholders with solemn awe. How thrilling will be the commendation of wisdom before the assembled universe! Who will not then acknowledge the wise choice of an earthly cross with an heavenly crown? This then brings honor—Not dignity, riches, or talent, but wisdom. This is the Lord's commendation. It must be right. It will stand for eternity.
What then makes a man despised? Not his poverty, obscure circumstances, or misfortune. But perverseness of spirit, too proud to be taught, following a mad course to ruin. Perverse Nabal was despised by his own family. And of all such, shame will be their present promotion8—their eternal doom.
9. He that is despised, and hath a servant, is better than he that honoreth himself, and lacketh bread.
A man, who has only a competency, sufficient to have a servant, and making no appearance, may be despised by his richer neighbors. But his state is better than the proud show of rank, without the means of sustaining it, or of one humbled by Providence, yet unhumbled in heart. Nothing is so despicable as to be proud, where there is nothing to be proud of; when a man sometimes, from the foolish vanity of keeping up appearances, de bars himself from the common comforts of life—honoring himself, and lacking bread. Such slaves are men to the opinion of the world! Principle is sacrificed to pride; and men rebel against Him, who makes no mistake in his allotments, and often appoints a descent from wordly elevation as a profitable discipline. Yet it is hard, even for the Christian, as Bunyan reminds us, 'to go down the valley of Humiliation, and catch no slip by the way.' We need our Master's unworldly elevated spirit14 to make a safe descent. Remember—"the pride of life is not of the Father, but is of the world." "Let our moderation be known unto all men," under the constraining recollection—"the Lord is at hand."16 How will the dazzling glare of man's esteem fade away before the glory of his appearing!
10. A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast: but the tender mercies (bowels, Marg.) of the wicked are cruel.
The minuteness of Scripture is one of its most valuable properties. It shows the mind of God on many points apparently trivial. Here it tests our profession by our treatment of the brutes. They were given to man as the lord of the creation, for his use, comfort, and food; not for his wantonness. A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast, duly attends to its comfort, and never presses it beyond its strength. The brutal habits therefore, the coarse words, inhuman blows,2 and hard tyranny on the public roads is disgraceful to our nature. The delight of children in putting animals to pain for amusement, if not early restrained, will mature them in cruelty, demoralize their whole character, and harden them against all the sympathies of social life. For as Mr. Locke wisely observed, 'they who delight in the sufferings and destruction of inferior creatures, will not be apt to be very compassionate and benign to those of their own kind.' Thus the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel—having no right feeling; only a milder exercise of barbarity;5 and usually meted out for some selfish end.
But why is this humanity marked as the feature of a righteous man? Because it is the image of our heavenly Father, who spreads his cherishing wings over his whole creation. As though the field of man was too small for his goodness, he regardeth the life of the beast. Witness the sanctions of his law,9 and the dispensations of his judgments. Nay, even did he by miraculous interference put into the mouth of the stupid ass to plead as it were the cause of the dumb creation.11 Must not then his children reflect his whole image of love? And is not the want of any feature of this image a mark of doubtful relationship to him?
11. He that tilleth his land shall be satisfied with bread: but he that followeth vain persons is void of understanding.
Special honor is given to the work of tilling the land. God assigned it to Adam in Paradise. He chose it as the employment of his eldest son.14 Its origin appears to have been under immediate Divine Teaching. In ancient times it was the business or relaxation of Kings.16 A blessing is ensured to diligence; sometimes abundant; always such as we should be satisfied with.
The principle applies alike to every lawful calling. Industry is an ornamental grace, and a Christian obligation.20 Most amply is its reward in the work of God. How rich is the harvest for the diligent student of the Scriptures! Truly he shall be satisfied with bread. But idleness is a spot upon our royal name. 'The proud person,' as an old writer observes—'is Satan's throne, and the idle man his pillow. He sitteth in the former, and sleepeth quietly on the latter.' The man therefore that followeth vain persons, instead of honest labor, proves himself to be void of understanding, and will reap the fruits of his folly. "If he has not been faithful in the unrighteous Mammon, who will commit to his trust the true riches?"4
12. The wicked desireth the net of evil men: but the root of the righteous yieldeth fruit.
Man is always restless to press onwards to something not yet enjoyed. The Christian reaches forth to higher privileges and increasing holiness. The wicked emulate each other in wickedness; and if they see evil men more successful than themselves, they desire their net—to discover their plans, in order to imitate them. Not satisfied with the honest "gain of godliness," they desire a net, in which they may grasp richer treasures of this world's vanity. The history of the church strongly illustrates this energy of sin—Infidelity and Popery—one net following another with more crafty device. Such is the root of evil—fraught with destruction. But the root of the righteous yieldeth fruit—true, solid, abundant fruit; not always visible, but always acceptable. Dependence on Christ is the source of this blessing; necessary in order to fruit; and never failing to produce it.10 The spiritual branches 'are nourished and increased by the living root of God's grace and blessing.'
13. The wicked is snared by the transgression of his lips: but the just shall come out of trouble.
We have seen the intense desire of the wicked to snare others in the net. Here he is snared himself: The transgression of his lips becomes the snare of his life. 'Many have felt the lash upon their backs for the want of a bridle on their tongues.'14 Such a snare were the lips of the Amalekite bringing the tidings of Saul's death. Expecting a reward, he found his death. Such also was Adonijah's deceitful petition;16 the hypocritical loyalty of Daniel's enemies; the fearful imprecation of the devoted nation.18 The lips of the wicked miss their mark, and become the instruments of his ruin.
On the other hand the godly exercise of the lips often delivers out of the trouble, into which the wicked rush headlong. The noble confession of Caleb and Joshua brought them safe out of the trouble, which was frowning upon their rebellious brethren. And even when the just "are overtaken with" a transgression of the lips, still their faithful God makes a difference. He will not indeed wink at sin in his own children. But while his covenant provides stripes for their transgressions, it ensures deliverance in the end. Thus a presumptuous confidence is restrained, and a humbling, self-abasing, tender confidence is established.
14. A man shall be satisfied with good by the fruit of his mouth: and the recompence of a man's hands shall be rendered unto him.
We have seen the snare of the tongue. Here is its blessing, not to others only, but to ourselves. Have we the mark of "the saints of God, to speak of the glory of his kingdom?"7 What a dignity will this grand subject give to our conversation! What a preservative from that frivolous "talk of the lips, which tendeth only to penury!" What a tone of elevation to our whole character!9 How shall we be satisfied with good by the fruit of our consecrated lips! When our God becomes not our visitor, but our inmate; the fruit of our mouth is no artificial effort, but "out of the abundance of the heart."
From the devotedness of the lips flows the ready exercise of the hands. For is not every member of the body his purchased possession? And here also is a sure recompence. For who ever "served God for naught?" "He is not unrighteous to forget our work and labor of love. A cup of cold water given to a disciple in his name shall in no wise lose its reward."13 The meanest exercise of love will be abundantly and eternally recompensed.
15. The way of a fool is right in his own eyes: but he that hearkeneth unto counsel is wise.
The fool's conceit hinders his wisdom. A discouraging case!15 His way is right in his own eyes. He needs no direction, asks no counsel, is stubborn in his own way, because it is his own, and follows it to his own ruin. His chief danger is his security.18 There may be no flagrant sin—nothing that degrades him below the level of his respectable neighbor. He has no doubt of heaven. Instead of the way being so narrow, that few find it; in his view it is so easy of access, that few miss it. Thus all his religion is self-delusion. O my God, save me from myself—from my own self-deceitfulness.
What a proof of wisdom is a teachable spirit! What an excellent means of increasing it! Was not Moses wiser for hearkening to Jethro's counsel; and David for listening to the restraining advice of Abigail?4 How precious then to the child of God is the office of the Divine "Counsellor!" How wise the reverential faith, that hearkens to his counsel! Whom does he ever disappoint? Whom does he upbraid?
16. A fool's wrath is presently (in that day, Marg.) known: but a prudent man covereth shame.
Let the tongue be ever under discipline. An unbridled tongue is the proof of an unrenewed heart. But specially never let it be loose in a moment of wrath. How readily is the fool known by his wrath! He has no command of himself. On the first rising, he bursts out with an ungovernable impulse. Truly is wrath called shame. For is it not a shame, that unruly passions should as it were trample reason under foot, disfigure even the countenance, and subjugate the whole man to a temporary madness? What else were Saul's unseemly sallies against David and Jonathan;10 Jezebel's boiling rage against Elijah; Nebuchadnezzar's unreasonable decree to kill his wise men, because they could not interpret his vision?12
Yet far more painful is the sight of the fool's wrath in the children of God; in Moses, the meekest of men; in David, "the man after God's own heart;"14 in "Asa, whose heart was perfect with God all his days." Nothing more excites the scoff of the ungodly, than the sight of these gross ebullitions, which Divine grace ought to restrain. But what is "man in his best estate," if left to himself! animated with the spirit of a wild beast! in that day he becomes an object of shame.
Self-control, that covers the shame, and represses the rising fermentation, is true Christian prudence. Even as a matter of policy, it is most commendable.18 But as a gracious principle, it is indeed a victory more honorable than the martial triumph; not only subduing our own spirit, but melting the hardness of our adversary.20
Do we feel our temper at any time ready to rise? Cry instantly to Him who quiets the storm. Keep before our eyes his blessed example, "who, being reviled, reviled not again;"22 and be what we behold.
17. He that speaketh truth sheweth forth righteousness: but a false witness deceit.
This proverb may appear almost too obvious to need remark. But the Scripture not only sets out what is deep and searching, but stamps the every-day truths with the seal of God for our more reverential obedience. Yet there is here more than lies on the surface. It might seem enough for a faithful witness to speak truth. But no—he must show forth righteousness; what is just, as well as what is true. The best-intentioned purpose must not lead us to conceal what is necessary to bring the cause to a righteous issue; "rejoicing not in iniquity, but rejoicing in the truth."
A false witness does not always deal with open lying, but with deceit—truth misrepresented, concealed, and thus turned into falsehood. Thus was Doeg a false witness against the priests. He states the fact, but with his own perverse interpretation. The false witness condemned our Lord by a similar perverse misconstruction of his words. Oh, cherish a deep abhorrence of deceit in all its forms and beginnings. Christian obligation and privilege alike forbid it.5 Truth and deceit are not mere moral qualities, but the distinctive mark of the two classes of the world. Look to it, that the broad stamp of truth and righteousness brings out the testimony—"Behold! an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile."
18. There is that speakeih like the piercings of a sword: but the tongue of the wise is health.
Who has not felt the piercing of false, unkind, inconsiderate speeches? How keenly have the servants of God suffered from this sword! Many will speak daggers without compunction, who would be afraid to use them. Surely it was not without reason, that our Lord charges an angry word or tongue with the guilt of murder.8 The source of this mischief demonstrably shows its malignity. "The tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity, and it is set on fire of hell." Indeed, 'a great and almost incredible calamity is it, that man, who was created for humanity, should be so corrupted, that no animal in the world is more ferocious and malignant.'10
Yet is the little member no less powerful to heal than to wound. It gives instant healing to the piercings of the sword, even to the very wound, which it may have been constrained to inflict.12 But it is the tongue of the wise that is health. Its unrestrained and unregulated vent might be hurtful. Wisdom is the guiding principle;—not a loose loquacity; but a delicate discriminating tact, directing us how, when, what, to whom to speak; sometimes repressing; sometimes quickening: "the tongue of the learned, to speak a word in season to him that is weary." This is no negative responsibility. It is not enough, that there is no poison in the tongue. It must be healing: not only purified from "corrupt communication," but "ministering grace unto the hearers." What need have we of the "indwelling of the word in all wisdom," that in "teaching and admonishing one another, our speech may be always with grace," wholesome and edifying, to the glory of our common Lord!3
19. The lip of truth shall be established forever; but a lying tongue is but for a moment.
How important is it to eye eternity in all our words! Truth would then be seen in its permanent value and results. The profession may bring us into present trouble. But its lips shall be established forever. Who will gainsay the Martyr's testimony—'Be of good comfort, Master Ridley; play the man. We shall this day light such a candle by God's grace in England, as I trust, shall never be put out?' The lip also of the faithful Minister of God is established forever. For "whatsoever he binds and loosens on earth, shall be bound and loosened in heaven."
Truth then is eternal. Lying, even if it suits our purpose as an easy escape from difficulty (a miserable—short-lived policy!) is but for a moment. Nay—should it escape detection for a whole life; yet with eternity before us, what a moment it is. And what will be the relief of this short moment under the tremendous wrath of God?8 We observe in God's own people their momentary escape from trouble followed by shame and confusion. In the ungodly, the fruit of Gehazi's lie was the pleasure for a moment. The shame endured unto the end.10 Under the same withering curse will the lying tongue of false teachers pass away; while truth remains constant. 'None are so visibly blasted, as those who make no conscience of a lie.'12 Children! ponder it well—eternity is at once the gain of truth, and the cost of a lie. But oh! the infinite difference between this eternity—in heaven or in hell!
20. Deceit is in the heart of them that imagine evil: but to the counsellors of peace is joy. 21. There shall no evil happen to the just: but the wicked shall be filled with mischief. 22. Lying lips are abomination to the Lord: but they that deal truly are his delight.
The principle of deceit is here traced to its fountain—the heart. How early it is found there, the first lispings of infancy too plainly prove. A lie is ready upon the lips of a child, when the temptation is presented to it; when nothing is to be gained by it but the hateful pleasures of sin. Yet though deceit is the native fruit of the heart, all are not equally ready in imagining evil—"inventors of evil things." The principle is not equally active, or equally developed in all. But when it does operate, the wicked are filled with mischief, and reap the full harvest in disappointment and ruin.
How frightful also is it to remark the outward expression of deceit in lying lips! Diversified indeed are its forms—falsehood, exaggeration, coloring, wilful perversion, wrong impressions produced or encouraged. But all these forms have the deep mark—abomination to the Lord. With this sin were Ananias and Sapphira hurried into eternity.5 And fearfully does a righteous God, even in "forgiving his offending child, take vengeance on his inventions." The wilful liar proves his parentage,7 and will be classed in eternity with all that is hateful. So, truly (and it is a sentence worthy of not only children, but of all men to ponder9) are lying lips an abomination to the Lord.
Here however is peace—the contrast of evil inventions: and to them "that seek" and pursue it there is joy. Interested themselves in "the counsel of peace,"11 they are counsellors of peace, breathing their Master's spirit of peace and love. A blessed office indeed is it, to pour in the balm of peaceful counsel upon irritated feelings. They will meditate; explain and cover with considerate prudence all the little causes of excitement. They will bring out the strong and unchangeable obligations of brotherly love. They will seize the happy moment of softening, to rekindle confidence—Happy indeed are they in the joy of their own conscience—in their dignity as "the children of God," in the rich harvest of their Christian exertions.14 Instead of being filled with mischief, no evil shall happen to them. Evil, whenever permitted, will become their good. They shall be supported in it,16 delivered out of it, sanctified by it.18 Its sharpness will pierce their corruptions. Its bitterness will wean them from the creature. Its furnace will mould them into the image of their Lord. Thus, what to the ungodly would be a mass of sorrow, to the just becomes a world of blessing.
Freedom from deceit is their broad mark in the promiscuous crowd. They not only speak, but they deal, truly; uniform in light and life. They bear the image of a God of truth, and he delights in them. "They are children that cannot lie. So he is their Saviour."3
23. A prudent man concealeth knowledge: but the heart of fools proclaimeth foolishness.
Knowledge is a talent to be wisely—not promiscuously—communicated. In Scriptural knowledge indeed there must be no concealment of fundamental truths; or in declaring on suitable occasions the gracious dealings of God with our own souls.6 Yet every truth is not fitting for every person, or for every time. Our blessed Lord charged upon his disciples the prudent concealment of knowledge, after his example, till a more favorable season. The Apostle concealed his knowledge for fourteen years, and even then mentioned it reluctantly, to vindicate his own rightful claims of Apostleship. Elihu, though "full of matter," and longing to give vent, yet concealed his knowledge, till his elders had opened his way. Here was genuine humility—godly prudence.
Circumstances also may sometimes prudently dictate concealment. Abraham spared the feelings of his family, and cleared his own path, by hiding the dreadful message of his God. Joseph concealed his kindred for the discipline of his brethren. Esther, from a prudent regard to consequences to herself. Nothing can justify speaking contrary to the truth. But we are not always obliged to tell the whole truth. Jeremiah answered all that he was bound to speak; not all that he might have spoken.14 In all these cases "the wise man's heart will discern both time and judgment;" yet always in the exercise of a tender conscience and an ardent love for truth.
The fool however everywhere proclaims his foolishness. He imprudently opens his heart.17 He is dogmatical in dispute, when wiser men are cautious. He will be teaching, when he ought to take the learner's place; his self-confidence proclaiming his emptiness. Self-distrust and humility are most important to enable us to improve the gifts of God for his glory.
24. The hand of the diligent shall bear rule: but the slothful shall be under tribute.
Diligence is the ordinary path to advancement. Pharaoh required men of activity for the charge of his cattle. Solomon for the administration of his kingdom.2 This was Joseph's road to bearing rule. But if it does not raise in the world, diligence will always command influence in its own sphere. In the Gospel "the faithful steward is made ruler over his Lord's household." The active trader bears rule over many cities. Diligence, therefore, is not a moral virtue separate from religion, but rather a component part of it.6
From the love of ease, the people of God—instead of bearing rule—were continually under tribute. The same slothful spirit still brings man under bondage. 'He is perpetually needing counsel of others, and hanging upon it.' In the grand concern, he is the slave of his own lust; in the worst service, under the most degrading tyranny; "wicked" because "slothful," and "cast out, and condemned as an unprofitable servant." Christian Professor! tremble at this responsibility of doing nothing; of living for thine own ease; neglecting the great object of life—the only object that tells upon eternity.
25. Heaviness in the heart of man maketh it stoop; but a good word maketh it glad.
'This maxim points out an easy and cheap way of being useful'—the cheering efficacy of a good word to a stooping heart. And how full is the Gospel of these good words! Is it distress for sin? "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden; and I will give you rest." Is it the pressure of affliction? How good is the word, "that speaketh unto us, as unto children;" warning us neither to "despair nor to faint under, the chastening of the Lord!" Is it despondency?—Oft is the good word repeated—"Fear not." Know we not the voice—"It is I; be not afraid?"14 Human sympathy may give temporary relief. But 'that was the grace, softer than oil, sweeter than roses, which flows from the Saviour's lips into the sinner's wounds; and, being poured into the contrite heart, not only heals, but blesses it, yea, and marks it out for eternal blessedness. Oh! how sweet is the voice of pardon to a soul groaning under the burden of sin!' David, but for these good words, "would have perished in his affliction." What beside made glad the jailor's drooping heart?17 Precious indeed is the privilege, when a Christian strengthens the weak hands "with a good word of God;" when he takes his chair by the mourner's side, and "comforts him with the same comfort, wherewith he himself is comforted of God." Precious is the ministry of the gospel, commissioned with the gladdening word to the heavy of heart. Yet more precious the office of the beloved Saviour, "gifted with the tongue of the learned," and filled with the unction of the Spirit, for the express purpose of "comforting them that mourn."3 How tenderly did he perform this office, let his last sermon testify. See then the provision for joy—so rich, so free, so ready. Beware—"lest Satan should get advantage" by a brooding spirit.5 Ponder thy obligation and thy privilege to "rejoice in the Lord."
26. The righteous is more excellent (abundant, Marg.) than his neighbor: but the way of the wicked seduceth him.
God and the world are at issue in their estimate of his own people. The righteous is low indeed in man's scale. Yet is he more excellent in character—more abundant in privilege—not only than the wicked, but than his neighbor, be his external advantage and endowments ever so great. Look at his birth, a child of God; his dignity, a King;8 his connections, a member of the family of heaven; his inheritance, a title to both worlds;10 his food, the bread of everlasting life; his clothing, the righteousness of the Saviour;12 his prospects, infinite and everlasting joy. Mark the honor which his God puts upon him. He is the fulness of Christ; "the temple of the Holy Ghost,"15 throwing the splendor of Solomon's temple into the shade. Angels, while "beholding the face of their Father which is in heaven," count it an honor to "minister to him as an heir of salvation."17 How can his neighbor's most exalted privileges compare with his? Contrast his high walk with God in "the holiest;" his heavenly profession before men;19 his Christian victory over himself—with his grovelling neighbor. For 'what an unprofitable drudgery is the service of the greatest prince in the world, in comparison with the work of a poor Christian, that liveth in communion with God!'21 And then—passing to the last contemplation—see him in the full enjoyment of his present prospects—"carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom;" "entering into the joy of his Lord;"23 welcomed before the assembled world; then fixed on the throne of his Lord25—to be with him—near him27—like him—for ever—what are his neighbor's prospects, but as hell compared with heaven? Can we doubt this testimony—The righteous is more excellent than his neighbor?—'A Christian is the highest style of man.'
The way of the wicked, is more pleasant to flesh and blood—more generally approved. Hence it easily seduces him with the appearance of the right way, and blinds him to his own ruin.3 Let me weigh my path most carefully—With whom am I walking? In what way?
27. The slothful man roasteth not that which he took in hunting: but the substance of a diligent man is precious.
How miserable and ruinous is the habit of sloth! It is a dead palsy, under God only to be checked by early discipline and constant resistance. Sometimes however the man makes a vigorous and successful effort. He rouses himself even to the toil of hunting. But his fit of exertion is soon over. He cannot be at the pains of preparing his prey for his repast. He leaves it to others—perhaps even to his dogs; and quickly relapses into his beloved habit.
Is not this a graphical picture of the slothful professor? He will take up religion under a strong excitement. He begins a new course, and perhaps makes some advances in it. But, "having no root in himself," his good frames and resolutions wither away.—The continued exertion required;6 the violence that must be done to his deep-rooted habits; the difficulties in his new path; the invitations to present ease; the delusive hope of better success at a future day—all these hang as a weight upon his efforts. So that—not knowing the only secret of resistance to his powerful enemy—earnest and persevering prayer—he grows slack, and with just life enough to feel himself dying, he sits down upon his little attainments—thus virtually throwing them away—content to lose heaven itself, if it is to be gained at such a cost. What use—Professor! is it to make an effort if you do not seek the grace of perseverance? No present blessing can be enjoyed without grasping something beyond.8 Godliness without energy loses its full reward."
Such is the reward of the diligent—real substance, precious, as the fruit of his toil; preserving what he has gained, and therefore increasing his substance. Unwearied exercise has doubled his talents, and conquered his difficulties. Here—Christian—is success indeed. Live more in thy work—"Spend and be spent" in it. Thy privileges will be enlarged. Thy substance will be enriched. Thy God will be honored. Thy crown will be secured.13
28. In the way of righteousness is life: and in the pathway thereof there is no death.
Much is said in this chapter in praise of righteousness. Here it is crowned with "life and immortality." So clearly did the wise man see beyond this dying world; and catch the sunbeams of glory "brought to light by the Gospel."2 The way of righteousness is the way of God's salvation, in which his children come to him; the way of his commandments, in which they love to walk with him.4 Not only is there life in the end—but a present life—a passage from death unto life eternal.6 'Those who seek after righteousness preserve and increase in themselves the spiritual life of God's grace, and of the presence of his Spirit, and so attain to life everlasting.' Thus the life of grace is possessed, and the life of glory is secured. It is "hid with Christ in God;"8 so that—"Because I live, ye shall live also."
In this pathway there is no death. The curse of the first death hath passed away.11 The power of "the second death cannot hurt." "The body is dead because of sin."13 Yet it "sleeps" rather than dies under the care of Jesus. "Surely the bitterness of death is past."15 Now, "O death! where is thy sting!" Sheathed in the body of Jesus.
And is not this cheering privilege—this glorious hope—an infinite recompence for all the crosses of the way? Contrast the ways of sin—full of death—ending in death eternal.18 Then wonder at the multitudes "loving death." Pity—pray for them—"pull them out of the fire."20 Adore the riches and power of Sovereign grace, which has saved you from ruin, and brought you to righteousness—to life—to salvation.
CHAPTER 13
1. A wise son heareth his father's instruction: but a scorner heareth not rebuke.
Such a wise son in filial reverence was Solomon himself. The connection however of instruction with rebuke mainly points us to that instruction, which is obtained by discipline. Here then we turn to our great Exemplar. Was not he a wise son, when his ears were opened to his Father's discipline? How did he condescend to this painful school to "learn obedience!"24 How good is it in our daily practical walk to keep our eyes steadily fixed on him, Is it not the pathway to heaven to follow Him closely in this child-like habit?
But the proud spirit does not easily bend. The son, who never heard his father's instruction with deference, will soon take "the scorner's seat." When rebuke becomes necessary, he hears it not; turns from it to his own course—at the extreme point from wisdom;3 on the brink of ruin; carrying about him a fearful mark of reprobation!5 Let me remember if I am reluctant to hear the faithful rebuke of men, I am prepared to resist the rebuke of God. And how soon may this stubborn revolt bring his long-suffering to an end, and my soul to destruction!7 'From hardness of heart, and contempt of thy word and commandment. Good Lord, deliver me.'
2. A man shall eat good by the fruit of his mouth: but the soul of the transgressors shall eat violence.
The first clause has been lately put before us. But let it ever be fresh upon our minds, that if the Christian is walking with God, his tongue will pour out godly communication. Whatever be the effect on others, at least his own soul will be warmed, refreshed, and edified. He shall eat good by the fruit of his mouth. Never shall we carry upon our lips that Beloved Name to our fellow-sinners in simplicity, but its "savour" to our own souls will be "as ointment poured forth." We shall feed ourselves in the Christian distribution of the heavenly manna.
The transgressor also eats the fruit of his mouth—yet not good. His soul sets his tongue on a flame. He loves violence—and therefore eats it to his own ruin. "Death as well as life are in the power of the tongue."12 Let us look, that it be under the influence of Divine grace, restrained from evil, disciplined for usefulness, the fruitful instrument of our own happiness.
3. He that keepeth his mouth keepeth his life: but he that openeth wide his lips shall have destruction.
The last Proverb contrasted a fruitful and mischievous—this a cautious and ungoverned tongue. "Keep thine heart." This guards the citadel. Keep thy mouth. This sets a watch at the gates. If they be well guarded, the city is safe. Leave them unprotected—Thus was Babylon taken. 'He that looketh carefully to his tongue takes a safe course for preserving his life, which is oft in danger by much and wild talking.' Think before we speak—ponder our words—their substance, manner, time, place, audience. The unruly member needs a strong bridle, and a strong hand to hold it.15—Though it be necessary to open our lips, yet to open them wide—to let all come out—is a fearful hazard. For if "in the multitude of words there wanteth not sin,"2 sin must bring us within the jaws of destruction.
"Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth; and keep the door of my lips"—was the prayer of one, who knew the danger of an ungoverned tongue, and the only way to tame it. Shall we not call in God's help, in the recollection that the great tempter is always at hand? How often has our unguarded tongue "given place to the devil,"4 and "grieved the Holy Comforter?" How much more matter do we make for repentance by our speaking than by our silence! Apply the practical power of faith to this besetting evil; quickening watchfulness and prayer, self-abasement and self-discipline, godly fear and energy of conflict.
4. The soul of the sluggard desireth and hath nothing: but the soul of the diligent shall be made fat.
Another vivid contrast of the sluggard with the diligent!—The sluggard desires the gain of diligence without the diligence that gains. He would be wise without study, and rich without labor. His religion is of the same heartless character. He desires to overcome his bad habits,—to enjoy the happiness of God's people. So far well. Desires are a part of religion. There can be no attainment without them. Many have not even the desire. They ridicule it as enthusiasm. Yet the sluggard hath nothing, because it is desire without effort. 'He ever desireth; but he taketh no pains to get any thing.' He would fain go to heaven, if a morning dream would carry him there. And many a wish (alas!—of prayer he knows nothing) he sighs for "the death of the righteous." He would gladly be a Christian, if it cost him no trouble. His duties are a force upon him—and, when they are over, he feels as if relieved from a heavy weight. This is no rare case. Often do we hear the cry—and that year after year—'I desire to be a child of God.' And yet the soul continues at the same point, or rather settles down more resolutely in a lifeless profession. 'Hell'—says an old writer—'is paved with such desires.'
Oh! be industrious—if anywhere—in religion. Eternity is at stake. Hours—days are lost. Soon they come to years—and for want of energy all is lost. Heartless wishes will not give life.—The halting step will not bring us to God. A few minutes' cold prayer will not seize the prize. To expect the blessing without diligence is delusion.
Diligence brings its own reward in the world—much more in religion. It will not be content with desiring, but possessing. Here is reality—rich privilege—The "exercise of godliness" tends to health and profit. Useful habits are formed—dormant energy is excited. The conflict of faith, the violence of prayer, become sources of enjoyment. God honors the trading of talents, where he has the full revenue of his gifts.2
Shake off, then, the dust of sloth—child of God! Take care that the bed of ease doth not pall thine appetite, and hinder thee from seeking food for thy soul. Let thy graces be vigorous and radiant. Let thy profession be always progressing—deepening—expanding. If thou be in Christ, seek to be "rooted and grounded in him." Let there be "life more abundantly."4 "Be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus." Let "the joy of the Lord be thy strength."6 Then thy soul shall be made fat—healthful—vigorous—in all fruit and grace.
5. A righteous man hateth lying: but a wicked man is loathsome, and cometh to shame.
Observe the accuracy of Scripture. It is not that a righteous man never lies. David lied. Peter lied.9 Yet David could say—"I hate and abhor lying." He prayed to have it "removed from him."11 He would not suffer the "liar in his sight." Peter in the painful remembrance of his sin earnestly shewed the happiness of departure from it.13 The child of god—though always a sinner—maintains an holy antipathy against sin,—"What I hate, that do I."
Nor is it a proof of a righteous man, that he avoids lying. Selfish motives—regard for character—may dictate restraint—without any hatred of the sin as sin. But true religion brings in the new taste—conformity to the mind of God. Therefore "lying lips"—however common, profitable, convenient, or pardonable, they may be counted—as they "are abomination to the Lord," the righteous man hateth them. He would rather suffer by truth, than sin by lying.16
And yet is not strict truth—even in the Church—often sacrificed to courtesy? Is not lying sometimes acted, insinuated, or implied, where we should be ashamed of plainly speaking it? Is not the simple truth often colored with exaggeration? "Abstain from all appearance of evil"—is the rule for the man of God. If "the appearance" be not cautiously shunned, the reality will soon be loved. Our tongue is only safe, when it is ordered under the restraint and guidance of the God of Truth.18
A wicked man indeed takes pleasure in deceit. Scripture gives him his right name—loathsome. His base means often bring him to shame on this side of the grave. But however this be—shame will be his "everlasting recompence."
6. Righteousness keepeth him that is upright in the way: but wickedness overthroweth the sinner.
Would that the repetition of this aphorism might deepen its impression! It is indeed a straight way to heaven. "Lead me in it, O my God,"2 and keep me there. The many deviations even of the children of God prove our need of Divine keeping. The fear of man; the flinching of the flesh from positive duty;4 the grasp of some desired object; the subtle allurements of sin6—all these have turned him out of the path; embracing his Father's will in many things; in others preferring his own. Righteousness—steady conformity to the mind of God—keeps the soul upright, and so keeps it in the way. Not that we exalt it to any meritorious efficiency; or put it in the place of simply "looking unto Jesus"8 for life and salvation. The Christian, while "walking in his integrity," never loses his sense of sin, or forgets his need of mercy. Yet—his "righteousness is a breast-plate" keeping him from many assaults of sin, and covering him from threatening wrath.12 But this is righteousness—not perfection—mixed with much cleaving infirmity. Yet—blessed be God—the uprightness is accepted, and the frailty is covered.
But while 'saints are secured from ruin, sinners are secured for ruin.' The sinner's own wickedness overthroweth him. He is bent upon his own way—the sure road to destruction. 'Let him not blame the Lord, or any mortal man besides himself, inasmuch as he is the Author of ruin to himself.16
7. There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing; there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches.
What a bubble are the world's riches! Yet such a jewel are they counted, that some will affect their shew, in order to gain the respect usually connected with them—making themselves rich, yet having nothing. Others will hide the real possession, lest they should be robbed of it—making themselves poor, yet having great riches. Both practice a deceit upon God; the one by pretending to have received—the other by virtually denying—his gracious gifts. Both dishonor his wisdom and goodness; the one by discontent with his dispensations; the other by neglecting the communication of his blessings.
The Church presents the counterpart of both these classes.—The boasting Pharisee, the gifted Corinthian;21 the proud beggarly Laodicean—all admire their nothing, as if it were great riches. Others again make themselves poor in "voluntary humility." Describing their whole course as unmingled sin, they deny the Almighty work of grace. They give excuse for lying under the power of their corruptions, instead of quickening the energy of a successful conflict. Thus they promote the very evil which they deprecate, and sink the soul into a hopeless despondency, alike prejudicial to their happiness and usefulness. It is the ruin of the self-deceiver to think himself better, it is not less the sin and the folly of the upright to think himself worse, than he is.
The true path of simplicity is to renounce all dependence of the flesh, and gladly to welcome the gospel of grace. Such disciples—rich in their holy poverty—are honored of the Lord.2 'O Blessed Lord, who resistest the proud, and givest grace to the humble, give me more humility—that I may receive more grace from thee. And thou, whose gracious rain shelves down from the steep mountains, and sweetly drenches the humble vallies, depress thou my heart more and more with true lowliness of spirit, that the showers of thy heavenly grace, may sink into it, and make it more fruitful in all good affection and all holy obedience.'
8. The ransom of a man's life are his riches: but the poor heareth not rebuke.
The last Proverb rebuked discontent with our lot—whether of riches or poverty. The wise man here strikes the balance between these two conditions. A man's riches may be the ransom of his life. They may be the price of deliverance from his enemies. They may save him from the punishment of the law,5 or from imminent danger of his life. Yet if "money is a defence,"7 so also is often want of money. If "the rich man's wealth is his strong city," the poor man's poverty is often his safeguard. He is beneath notice. He hears not many a rebuke, he escapes many a danger, which is destruction to his richer neighbor. Had Isaac's flocks been less numerous,10 or Jacob less prosperous, they would not have heard so much rebuke from their selfish enemies. The poor with his empty pocket travels with security. His cottage offers little temptation to the nightly robber. "A man's life" therefore—his true happiness—"consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth."
His riches may be the ransom of his life. But "what shall he give in exchange for his soul?" Too "precious" is it to be "redeemed with corruptible silver and gold."14 So far as he is concerned, "it ceaseth forever." Praised be the Lord! when all the treasures of earth would have been beggared in the ransom, the riches of heaven were freely poured out. The blood of the Son of God was the acceptable price. The voice was heard from heaven—"Deliver him from going down to the pit; I have found a ransom."
9. The light of the righteous rejoiceth: but the lamp of the wicked shall be put out.
Who can estimate the worth of a Christian's bright shining light? Happy in his own soul, like his counterpart in the heavens, he sheds a joyous light around him. But how glowing then, is the light of the Church in the combined shining of all her members! Many of them have no remarkable individual splendor. Yet the whole—like the lesser stars forming the milky way—present a bright path of holiness in the spiritual firmament. This happy, heavenly light "shineth into perfect day;" and that day will never set.5 Sometimes it may be obscured, but only that it may break out more gloriously; and soon will it be a day without a cloud.7
But it is the light of the righteous that rejoiceth. Sin therefore will bring the cloud. Do we hope to shine in the heavenly firmament? Then must we shine with present glory in the firmament of the Church. So delicate is the Divine principle, that every breath of this world dims its lustre.
The wicked have their lamp, a cold profession of the name of religion. But, being without oil, it will soon be put out. Even while it lasts, it rejoiceth not. It sheds no light upon the soul. It guides no fellow-pilgrim with its light. Fearful will be the end. He takes his leave of the light of this world, only to enter into eternal darkness, without even a flickering ray to cheer "the blackness of darkness forever."
10. Only by pride cometh contention: but with the well advised is wisdom.
Most accurately is contention here traced to its proper source. All the crudities of the day—all the novelties of doctrine producing contention11—originate in the proud swelling of the fleshly mind." Men scorn the beaten track. They must strike out a new path. Singularity and extravagance are primary charms. They are ready to quarrel with every one, who does not value their notions as highly as they do. The desire of pre-eminence;13 the revolt from authority or sound doctrine;15 party spirit, with the pride of knowledge and gifts—all produce the same results. Is it too much to say, that vain-glory hath lighted up all the sinful contentions, that have ever kindled in the Church? We must indeed "contend for the faith," though it be with our own compromising brethren.18 But even here how quickly—yet imperceptibly, may pride insinuate itself under the cover of glorifying God!
This mischievous principle spreads in families, or among friends. 'Some point of honor must be maintained; some affront must be resented; some rival must be crushed or eclipsed; some renowned character emulated; or some superior equalled and supported.' Even in trifling disputes between relatives or neighbors—perhaps between Christians—each party contends vehemently for his rights, instead of satisfying himself with the testimony of his conscience, and submitting rather to be misunderstood and misjudged, than to break the bond of the Divine brotherhood. In the wide field of the world we may well ask—"From whence come wars and fightings among you? Come they not from this lust?"4 Often has wounded pride—even without any proved injury6—brought destructive contention upon a land.
The proud man conceives himself wise enough. He asks no counsel, and thus proves his want of wisdom. But with the modest—well-advised—there is the wisdom that is from above, "which is first pure, then peaceable." Many a rising contention has it quelled. "Let nothing be done through strife or vain-glory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves."9 Christian wisdom will keep us within our own line; knowing our own measure and bounds; and—whatever be our place, parts or gifts—humble, active, loving, constant, thankful, in the improvement of them.
11. Wealth gotten by vanity shall be diminished: but he that gathereth by labor shall increase.
This Proverb does not imply the means, by which wealth has been gotten; but the impoverishing use to which it is applied. However large, by vanity it will soon be diminished. Frivolous and expensive pursuits, empty amusements, and the vain pomp and show of dress, will soon prove that "riches certainly make' themselves wings;" that the treasure is "put into a bag with holes;"13 and that nothing remains but the awful account of unfaithfulness to a solemn trust.
On the other hand—God's blessing is upon Christian industry, and, so far as is good, he that gathereth with his labor shall increase. Only let him remember, that the security for his increasing wealth is the dedication of himself and his substance to the Lord; the ready acknowledgment, that he is not his own, but God's property for God's glory. 'All that man can have, we have it on this condition; to use it, to have it, to lay it out, to lay it down unto the honor of our Master, from whose bounty we received it.' The Lord deliver us from the guilt of wasting of vanity what is due to Himself!
12. Hope deferreth maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.
The first springing of hope is a pleasurable sensation, yet not unmixed with pain. It is the hunger, that makes our food acceptable. But hope deferred, like hunger prolonged, brings a kind of torture. It maketh the heart sick. Yet when the desire—the fulfilment of the hope—cometh, what a tree of life it is—so reviving—so invigorating!
We must however limit this application to the spiritual world. Elsewhere the fulfilment of the desire would be—instead of a tree of life—disappointment and vanity. Here however the child of God is often tried in his faith, but never disappointed of his hope. "The patience of hope" issues in "the full assurance of hope." What was it to Abraham, when, after long deferred hope—the desire came, and he called the child of promise—Laughter! What was it, "when the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion, and they were like unto them that dream!"6 What was it to old Simeon and the waiting remnant, when the desire of all nations came! What to the disciples, when at the manifestation of their risen Lord, their sickening hearts "believed not for joy, and wondered!" What to the little flock met together in the faintness of deferred hope to plead for Peter's deliverance, when the desire came—the answer to prayer—so marvellously vouchsafed!
To come to more personal experience. Such was the trial of faith, appointed for our beloved Lord. Such was the joyful issue. Many a waiting, sickening heart has been thus refreshed from a tree of life. But what will be the joy of the grand consummation of hope! "The earnest expectation of the creation waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God."13 Time seems long—trials heavy—hearts failing. But—"yet a little while, and he that shall come, will come, and will not tarry." The first moment of the glorious manifestation will blot out the remembrance of all toils, weariness, and trial. Yes—the desire cometh—come it will—in God's best time—"quickly." One moment sick; the next—"the inhabitant of that land" where sickness is no more. One moment clad in the rags of the flesh; "in the twinkling of an eye" arrayed in the glory of the Saviour's image.16 "Come, Lord Jesus! Come quickly."
13. Whoso despiseth the word shall be destroyed: but he that feareth the commandment shall be rewarded.
God as a God of holiness will not be trifled with. As a God of grace—none serve him for naught. The presumptuous despiser of his word cannot escape. The world before the flood was the object of his long-suffering. "A preacher of righteousness" warned them of their danger. But the despisers provoked their own ruin. Pharaoh, often provoked—sometimes half-resolved—yet at length despising the word, was destroyed. Jehoiakim's daring rebellion met its righteous recompence.3 The warnings of Sinai are as a voice of thunder. "If every transgression of the word spoken by angels received its just recompence of reward; how shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation, spoken by the Lord? If they escaped not, that refused him that spake on earth; much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from him that speaketh from heaven. See that ye refuse not him that speaketh."
Let God and his word be our fear, not our terror. The heart can never be right, till it fears the commandment above every earthly consideration. The slave fears the penalty; the child the commandment. And this he fears more than if an angel from heaven were standing in his way with a flaming sword. Here is no bondage—no legality. It brings its own reward. The "heart that stands in awe of God's word," rejoices in it, "and is largely enriched with its spoil." Here too is sunshine in the special favor of God—"To this man will I look, even to him that is poor, and of a contrite heart, and that trembleth at my word."
14. The law of the wise is a fountain of life, to depart from the snares of death.
Reverence to God's commandment has just been enforced. The blessing of the law or instruction of the wise is here shown. It is as a fountain of life, to a teachable and thirsting heart. It is as a grand conservative principle in a world full of snares, not of danger only, but of death. There is no safe treading but in the ways of God. The word of God gives the necessary warning. The law of the wise—his instruction with all the authority of a law—applies it. This was David's seasonable instruction to Solomon—Solomon's to us.11 Hear this warning law of the wise from an Apostle's mouth. The love of money was fearfully destroying souls. "Thou, O man of God, flee these things." This is the grand end of the Ministry of the Gospel—to "deliver them from the snares of the devil: who taketh men captive at his will."13 Let the young take heed to their feet, where every step is a snare of death. Let the instruction of thy God and his Ministers be the law of the wise to keep thy path in safety. "Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established."
15. Good understanding giveth favor: but the way of transgressors is hard.
Good understanding in the wise man's meaning is the true knowledge of religion—not a cold and dry apprehension—but practical godliness. Natural conviction is often constrained to do homage to it, as the image of God stamped upon his servants.3 The histories of Joseph, Samuel,5 David, Daniel7—testify, that it giveth favor. Our blessed Lord, as "he increased in wisdom, increased also in favor both with God and man." Thus the way of wisdom with all its crosses, is cheered with sunshine.
Can we say this of the way of transgressors? They dream of a flowery path; but they make to themselves a hard way. 'Wicked men live under a hard taskmaster.' His work is drudgery indeed.10 Men fight their way to hell, as they do to heaven—"through much tribulation." Sinful affections must be a source of pain. The continual warfare with conscience,12 the absence of peace, the sting of sin,14 the certainty of destruction—all prove the loss of "the promise of the life that now is, no less than of that which is to come."
Which then is the way of my choice? Lord, do thou choose for me. Help me under thy guidance, to choose the safe and pleasant path of wisdom. the rich portion of godliness for both worlds.17 The way of transgressors is hard. The end of that way is death. The taskmaster will have his full "tale" of work. The paymaster will pay down the well-earned wages to the uttermost farthing—Death eternal.19
16. Every prudent man dealeth with knowledge; but a fool layeth open (spreadeth, Marg.), his folly.
How often is even valuable knowledge frittered away from the want of prudent application! We must ponder the time, measure, helps and means of dealing with it, so as to put it out to its full advantage. And how wide is the sphere for trading with this responsible talent? In daily life it provides against foreseen dangers, as it makes a way to escape in appointed difficulties.22 Not less useful is it in the family economy—in the training of children; in the "guidance of affairs;"24 in looking well to household occupations. Must we not also deal with it in the Church—in a wise accommodation to circumstances, in the conviction of gainsayers;2 in forbearing with the prejudices of the weak; in the exercise of Christian admonition?4 The want of it is the source of an unstable profession. In understanding we are children, not men." Most precious therefore is "the word of knowledge," as "the manifestation of the Spirit given to us to profit withal."6 Greatly also do we need this gift in our intercourse with the world, to avoid occasions of stumbling; to mark seasonable times of reproof;8 and to refrain from needless offence. Nay—even in the political world what need have we of "understanding of the times, to know what Israel ought to do!" Thus to deal with knowledge in the diversified application, is the responsibility of a prudent man of God.
In the want of this prudence—the fool layeth open his folly. He pours out his wrath. He vaunts out his vanity.13 He exposes his thoughtlessness. He exercises no judgment,15 and fills his sphere of influence with mischief.
Let us study the minute details of our Master's well-filled life. He shall deal prudently—This was his distinctive character. The Spirit of prudence was the furniture for his work. How gloriously did it shine forth in the confounding of his enemies,18 and in tender sympathy with his afflicted people! How good is it to have our knowledge disciplined by his teaching, and consecrated to his service!
17. A wicked messenger falleth into mischief: but a faithful ambassador is health.
A messenger proves his character by his neglect or discharge of his trust. A wicked messenger betrays his trust, damages his master,21 and—as a just recompence—falls into mischief. Faithfulness is the servant's glory, and his master's gain. He brings and receives a blessing. Gehazi's unfaithfulness brought him into mischief. Eliezer, "shewing all good fidelity," was blessed in himself, and health to his master.
But to speak of the messenger and ambassador of the Lord. What words can tell the awful mischief of the wicked messenger—ignorant of the worth of his commission, and utterly careless in the discharge of it! Yet the mischief returns upon his own head; laden as he is with the guilt of the blood of souls; overwhelmed himself in the eternal damnation of those, who have perished through his neglect.
Faithfulness marks the true ambassador. He "shuns not to declare the whole counsel of God;"3 not obtruding offensive truths in unnatural prominence; but not withholding them in their just scriptural proportion. He condescends to the capacities of his people; but he will not humor their prejudices or antipathies. He "handles not the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth he commends himself to every man's conscience in the sight of God." "The tongue of such an ambassador" is health5—both to himself and to his people. "The wilderness rejoices" under his fertilizing blessing;7 and the burst of joy and peace is heard on every side—"How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him, that bringeth good things, that publisheth peace!"
18. Poverty and shame shall be to him that refuseth instruction; but he that regardeth reproof shall be honored.
The instruction of discipline is God's ordinance. Little do those who refuse it know, what a blessing they cast away! Poverty and shame are often the Lord's rod for his wayward children—two dreaded evils—the one bringing them to want—the other hiding their heads; both disappointing the "lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life."11 Young persons! Learn to dread the liberty of being left to your own choice. Dread the first step in the downward course—refusing instruction—Remember your birth—"as the wild ass's colt." Know your besetting temptation—"as the horse and the mule"13—impatient of restraint. If the remonstrance of parents, friend, ministers be slighted, all may end in poverty and shame—embittered with the poignant sting of death-bed remorse.
But here is honor contrasted with shame. For reverently to regard reproof will ensure honor from man. Honor from God will be abundant. "If ye endure chastisement, God dealeth with you as with sons."16 Humbled under his reproof—raised to his throne. To have our ears opened to receive discipline is to walk in the path of life and happiness,18—the honor of conformity to our Divine Saviour. Man's pride deems it a degradation to receive reproof. God counts it "brutish to hate it."20 Which judgment is according to truth and right?
19. The desire accomplished is sweet to the soul: but it is abomination to fools to depart from evit.
This must be limited to "the desire of the righteous"—As that is "only good," it "will be granted,"2 and the accomplishment is sweet to the soul—Infinitely sweeter will be the full—the eternal accomplishment—"I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness."
May not all enjoy this sweetness? All might—but all will not—be happy. The object is so revolting to the "enmity of the carnal mind." Perhaps those who have been early trained in the ways of God, cannot experimentally estimate the bitterness of this enmity. But what can give a more awful view of this principle than the truth—that which is abomination in God to see, is abomination to the fool to depart from. A striking figure of heaven and hell—in full contrast—with the great gulf, that is fixed between them. Holiness makes heaven—sin makes hell. See then for which place the ungodly are fitting. Hatred of holiness is meetness for hell. Oh—what a mighty change must that be, that can slay the enmity—and make it to the soul an abomination to commit evil, as it now is to depart from it!
20. He that walketh with wise men shall be wise: but a companion of fools shall be destroyed.
Every one desires to engrave his own image upon his companions. We naturally therefore take our mould from their society. It is not left to us to determine whether there shall be any influence—only, what that influence shall be. Walking with the wise—under their instruction, encouragement and example, we shall be wise. Our principles and habits will be fixed, our interest excited, and the resolution formed—"We will go with you, for we see that God is with you." See here the blessing of living in a godly family—hearkening daily to "the wise man's learning,"6 or in membership with a Church, where each imparts from his store for the increase and edifying of the body. Mark—young people—the responsibility of the choice of friends. How much hangs upon the determination to be "a companion of all them that fear God, and keep his precepts!"8 The world may allure, the ungodly may mock, the evil heart may consent to their voice. But seek you your strength from God, and resolve to walk with the wise—"As the Lord liveth, and as my soul liveth, I will not leave thee."
Joash, while he walked with his wise guardian, was wise. But when after his guardian's death, he became a companion of fools, he was destroyed. And how often does the scaffold warn us of the corruption from evil communications!11 Many a promising professor has been brought step by step to destruction. The horror of sin—the instinctive recoil from it—gradually abates. The fear of God—the cover from sin—is weakened. The hold on the great hopes of the gospel is relaxed. Other objects gain the ascendency, and the ruin is complete. And when—we might ask—have the godly companied with fools, without injury to their profession, and hazard to their souls? If we can live in a worldly element, without feeling out of our own element; if we can breathe a tainted atmosphere without sensibility of infection; if we can familiarize ourselves with the absence of religion in the ordinary intercourse of life, is there no ground of alarm, lest unsubdued worldliness should be regaining dominion?
The first warning to sinners just plucked out of the fire, was—"Save yourselves from this untoward generation." And to the end of the path the rule will be—"Have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them."4 Connection we must often have with them. But let our delight be with the saints of God. God may soon decide for an halting professor. His patience may be exhausted. His justice may take its course; and those, who are now his companions in folly, will be his tormentors in hopeless misery.
21. Evil pursueth sinners; but to the righteous good shall be repaid.
'Sinners are sure to find evil at last—righteous, good.' The histories of sin from the beginning—Cain,8 Achan, Abimelech,10 Ahab, and his wicked wife,12 with many others, are, solemn demonstrations, that evil pursueth sinners, even when they seem to have found a refuge. The delay even of centuries does not weaken the certainty.14 As sure as the shadow follows the substance, as the avenger of blood pursued the manslayer—"evil shall hunt the violent man to overthrow him." Yet often the sinner goes on in his blind infatuation. 'No one has been witness to his sin. Or no one will make account of it. Or his accusers, being as guilty as himself, will hold their peace; or, should he be discovered, prudence or pleading will secure him from punishment.'17 And then, though "the iniquity of his heels compasseth him about," he thinks only of present gratification, never looks back, and therefore sees not the evil pursuing him. His blindness thus makes his ruin more certain. And how dearly are his momentary pleasures purchased at the cost of eternity!20
Yet not more certain is the evil that pursueth sinners, than the good which shall be repaid to the righteous. The one follows in just retribution. The other is the reward of grace. Not the smallest good—even "a cup of cold water to a disciple" or honor shown to his servants2—shall be without its payment. And if a single act is thus remembered, much more "a course—a fight"—held out to the end.4 How manifestly is this the constitution of grace; that, when perfect obedience can claim no recompence, such unworthy defiled work, should be so honored with an infinite, overwhelming acceptance!
22. A good man leaveth an inheritance to his children's children: and the wealth of the sinner is laid up for the just.
The good to be repaid to the righteous has just been mentioned. Here we have a particular instance of it; It cannot however be meant as an universal statement. Many good men have no inheritance to leave; or they have no children; or none that survive them, or no children's children; or this generation may be in poverty. The wealth of the sinner also—instead of being laid up for the just—descends to his posterity for successive generations. Yet Scripture gives many examples of this dispensation of Providence, showing the blessing of personal godliness to unborn posterity. Abraham left his covenanted inheritance to his children's children. Caleb's children inherited their father's possession.8 "Although David's house was not so with God" as he could have desired; yet his lamp continued to burn for upwards of seventeen generations. Often also has the Divine blessing upon the discreet guidance of his affairs,10 and the special promise to Christian liberality, preserved the good man's inheritance. And if there is no earthly substance to leave, yet a church in the house—a family altar—the record of holy example and instruction; and above all—a store of believing prayer laid up for accomplishment, when we shall be silent in the grave—will be an inheritance to our children of inestimable value. For though no trust can be placed in hereditary religion; yet the recollection of the path in which their fathers' walked, and in which they themselves were trained, may under God's grace, continue the entail of religion in our families, so that "instead of the fathers may be the children."13
But the good man's inheritance is also increased from the wealth of the sinner. Laban's wealth was laid up for Jacob; the spoils of Egypt15 and Canaan for Israel; Haman's wealth for Esther and Mordecai. Indeed this appears to have been a prominent feature of the Old Dispensation;18 and it will be openly renewed in the Latter-day glory of the Church. Probably therefore the fulfilment is far more frequent than meets the eye. Often also the wealth of the sinner, laid up for the aggrandizement of his own name in his posterity, becomes the portion of the just in his own holy seed, consecrating it to the service of their Lord and his church.
23. Much food is in the tillage of the poor: but there is that is destroyed for want of judgment.
The produce of the soil is the fruit of industry. Much good is in the tillage of the poor; because, being wholly dependent on their own exertions, they spare no pains or labor. So that by careful husbandry they may gain support from a small plot; while a large and fertile estate may be destroyed for want of judgment. Indeed, for want of prudent management the richest tillage may come to waste. Egypt with her abundant crops would have been destroyed, but for Joseph's judgment in preserving the much food for the tillage. Solomon's prudent administration of his household restrained waste and extravagance.5 Even our Divine Master, in the distribution of the food, directed that "the fragments should be gathered up, that nothing be lost," or destroyed for want of care and judgment.
But what is the practical and extended application? If talents lie inactive, or if their activity is not wisely directed, a rich harvest is destroyed for want of judgment. The same ruin flows from the neglect of religious advantages. The harvest of grace withers into a famine. Slothful professor! rouse thyself to till the ground; else wilt thou starve for want of food. Then let thy roused energy be directed by a sound judgment; for want of which, the fruits of industry, temporal, intellectual, and spiritual, will run to waste.
24. He that spareth his rod hateth his son: but he that loveth him, chasteneth him betimes.
Among the many modern theories of education, how often is God's system overlooked! Yet should not this be our pattern and standard? The rod of discipline is its main character—not harsh severity, but a wise, considerate, faithful exercise; always aiming at the subjugation of the will, and the humbling and purifying of the heart. But here God and man are at issue. Man often spares the rod, because he loves the child. This at least he calls love. But is not our Father's love to his children inconceivably more yearning than that of an earthly parent? Yet does he not spare the rod—"What son is he, whom the father chasteneth not?" Is the rod the proof of his hatred? "Whom the Lord loveth, he chasteneth." Nay—he gives us his Divine judgment—He that spareth the rod, hateth the child. Does he not act at least as if he hated him; omitting a duty so necessary for his welfare; winking at the indulgence of vicious habits and a wayward will—so surely issuing in bitter sorrow? Is not this delivering him up to his worst enemy. Better that the child had been trained in the house of strangers, than that he should thus be the unhappy victim of the cruelty of parental love.
The discipline of our children must therefore commence with self-discipline. Nature teaches to love them much. But we want a controlling principle, to teach us to love them wisely. The indulgence of our children has its root in self-indulgence. We do not like putting ourselves to pain. The difficulties indeed can only be known by experience. And even in this school one parent cannot measure the trials of another. But all our children are children of Adam—"Foolishness is bound up in their hearts." All choose, from the first dawn of reason, the broad road of destruction.3 And can we bear the thought, that they should walk in that road? We pray for their conversion. But prayer without teaching is mockery, and Scripture teaching implies chastening. Discipline therefore must be. All need the rod, some again and again. Yet it must be the father's rod, yearning over his chastened child, even while he dares "not spare him for his crying."6 The rod without affection is revolting tyranny.
But often do we hear mourning over failure. And is not this the grand reason? We do not chastise betimes. Satan begins with the infant in arms!8 The cry of passion is his first stir of the native corruption. Do we begin as early? Every vice commences in the nursery, The great secret is—to establish authority in the dawn of life; to bend the tender twig, before the knotty oak is beyond our power. A child, early trained by parental discipline, will probably preserve the wholesome influence to the end of life.
But fearful indeed is the difficulty, when the child has been the early master, to begin chastening, when the habit of disobedience has been formed and hardened; to have the first work to do, when the child is growing out of childhood, and when the unreserved confidence needs to be established. Rarely indeed does this late experiment succeed: while the severity necessary to enforce it is not less dangerous than painful. "It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth."
25. The righteous eateth to the satisfying of his soul: but the belly of the wicked shall want.
This is one of the many proofs, that "the righteous is more excellent than his neighbor." Temporal blessings are assured—so far as they are really good for him; whether little or much—enough to satisfy his wants, not to "fulfil his lusts." Indeed 'he can never want a sufficiency, because his desires are moderate, and he makes a temperate use of God's blessings.'2 He therefore shall eat to his satisfying, while the wicked shall want. Jacob was fed with the best of the land, while the Egyptians were destitute Elijah was fed—first by ravens, afterwards by a widow, when the wicked nation were in extremity. The fare of the righteous may be coarse, and that of the wicked "sumptuous." But did not Daniel and his friends eat their pulse with more satisfaction, than their fellow-captives did their richer dainties? And—as to higher food and heavenly satisfaction—Christ is a substitute for every thing—nothing for him.—'If then,' as the noble Luther declares, 'we live here by begging our bread, is not this well-recompenced, that we are nourished with the food of angels—with eternal life and Christ himself?'
Such a chaos of desires is the soul of the wicked, that no abundance can satisfy his want. Ahab's crown could give him no rest, without Naboth's vineyard. So full is the ungodly heart of insatiable cravings!8 But how intolerable will be this conscious want throughout eternity, when a drop of water to cool the tormented tongue shall be denied!