CRITICAL NOTES.--+1. Through desire, etc.+ The readings and
expositions of this verse are many. Zöckler translates, _"He that
separateth himself seeketh his own pleasure, against all counsel doth
he rush on,"_ and the renderings of Stuart, Miller, and Delitzsch are
substantially the same, except that Delitzsch translates the latter
clause--_"against all that is beneficial he shows his teeth."_ Other
readings are _"A self-conceited fool seeks to gratify his fancy and
intermingleth himself with all things" (Schultens); "He who has
separated himself agitates questions as his desire prompts, and
breaks his teeth on every hard point" (Schulz); "He seeks occasion,
who desires to separate himself from his friends" (Hodgson)._ Others
read as in the Authorised Version. (See Comments.) +3. Ignominy,+
rather, _"shameful deeds."_ +4.+ The last clause of this verse may be
divided into two smaller ones and placed in apposition, thus: _"a
babbling brook,"--a fountain of wisdom._ Fausset remarks that the
Hebrew word used for _man_ is _ish,_ a _good_ man, not _adam,_ the
general term for man. +6. Calleth for.+ Stuart understands this in
the sense of _"to deserve."_ +8. Wounds.+ The word so translated
occurs only here and in chap. xxvi. 22, and will bear very different
renderings. Some translate it _words of sport_ (Stuart and Zöckler);
others, with Delitzsch, _dainty morsels;_ others, _"whispers, soft
breezes."_ +9. Waster,+ or _destroyer._ +10. Safe,+ or _lifted high._
+14. Infirmity,+ _i.e.,_ sickness, disease of body. As in similar
verses, Miller translates +"a wounded spirit;"+ _a spirit of
upbraiding._ Here again, as in verse 4, the Hebrew word _ish_ is used
for man. +16. A man's gifts.+ "Hebrew, _adam,_ the gift of a _man,_
however humble and low" _(Fausset)_. +19. "Is harder to be won;"+
these words are not in the original, but have been inserted to supply
the sense. Some translators read _"a brother offended resisteth more
than a strong city."_ Miller reads, _"When a brother is revolted
away, it is from a city of strength."_ +20. Satisfied.+ "If this word
is taken in a good sense the _fruit_ must be good; but it may be
ironical, meaning false or malignant words will find ample
retribution. Perhaps the next verse helps us determine the meaning"
_(Stuart)_. +21. They that love it,+ _i.e.,_ "make it a special
object of gratification" _(Stuart)_ +24.+ The first clause of this
verse should be "A man of many friends will prove himself base, or is
so to his own destruction," _i.e.,_ he who professes to regard
everybody as his friend will, in so doing, involve himself in trouble.
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 1 _and_ 2.
Reference to the Critical Notes and to the Comments will show the
widely different translations and expositions given to the first
verse. We follow the Authorised Version.
SOLITUDE.
+I. Solitude is indispensable to the attainment of wisdom.+ If a tree
is to become well-proportioned--if it is to spread out its branches
on every side so that its girth is to be proportioned to its height,
it must have space--a degree of separation is indispensable to its
perfect development. It must be free to stretch out its roots and
shoots on every side, and to appropriate to itself those elements in
the earth and in the atmosphere which will make it strong and
vigorous. So if a man is to be a wise man, if his mental and
spiritual capabilities are to be developed as his Creator intended
they should be, he must at times separate himself--a certain amount
of solitude is indispensable. If he would grow wise in the mysteries
of the natural world he must oftentimes shut himself away from the
haunts of men, and ponder the manifold phenomena which creation
presents to him, and endeavour to unravel her secrets. If he desires
to become wise by acquaintance with the thoughts and deeds of the
great and mighty men of past ages he must withdraw himself at certain
seasons from the society of his fellow-men, and give himself up to
study and reflection. And if he desire to acquire what, after all,
can alone make him a truly wise man--an acquaintance with himself and
with God--he must have seasons of separation in which to listen to
the voice of his own heart and to the voice of his Maker. A man, when
he is alone, is more likely to see things as they really are; he is
less under the influence of the seen and temporal than when he is in
the market, or on the crowded highway, and consequently things unseen
and eternal have a more powerful influence over him at such a season.
No man can be wise unless he has some self-knowledge, and no man can
subject himself to much inspection while in company, hence the advice
of George Herbert--
"By all means use sometimes to be alone;
Salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear;
Dare to look in thy chest, for 'tis thine own,
And tumble up and down what thou find'st there.
Who cannot rest till he good fellows find,
He breaks up house, turns out of doors his mind."
and it is equally true that no man is possessed of true wisdom who
has not some knowledge of God as He has revealed Himself in the
written Word, and solitude is very favourable to a growth in Divine
knowledge. Men can gain much, even of the highest wisdom, from
intercourse with their fellow-men, but all human guides are fallible
and all human teaching is imperfect--there must be seasons when a man
"separates himself" from them all and stands face to face with the
fountain of all truth, if he would "intermeddle" with pure wisdom.
+II. Those who are truly wise seek wisdom for its own sake.+ Many men
seek secular knowledge for the sole purpose of acquiring fame by the
acquisition. Some men spend days of solitude in patient investigation
for no other purpose than to make a name for themselves. Some men
even profess to be seekers after true and spiritual wisdom, when they
are only striving to gratify some unworthy ambition. Such a man seems
to be pourtrayed in the second verse as the "fool who hath no delight
in understanding but that his heart may discover itself." (If he
seeks knowledge at all, it is neither for its own sake nor for the
purposes of fitting him for usefulness, but solely for the ends of
self-display--_Wardlaw._) (He "hath no delight" in knowledge, "but in
the displaying of his own thoughts."--_Hodgson._) But the true lover
of wisdom is impelled to seek from the love of truth--from the desire
which possesses his soul to "intermeddle with knowledge." When Sir
Isaac Newton gave himself up to the pursuit of scientific truth, he
"separated himself" simply from a "desire" to _know,_ and without the
remotest desire or expectation of his present world-wide fame. And if
it is so with every true lover of merely intellectual wisdom, it is
pre-eminently so with the man who seeks spiritual wisdom. He is
impelled to the search simply by a desire which is born of his
appreciation of its worth--by a knowledge of its power to bless his
life.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
A certain degree of solitude seems necessary to the full growth and
spread of the highest mind; and therefore must a very extensive
intercourse with men stifle many a holy germ, and scare away the
gods, who shun the restless tumult of noisy companies, and the
discussion of petty interests.--_Novalis._
Desire is the chariot-wheel of the soul, the spring of energy and
delight. The man of business or science if filled with his great
object; and _through desire he separates himself_ from all lets and
hindrances, that he may _intermeddle with_ its whole range. "This one
thing"--saith the man of God--"I do" (Philip. iii. 13). This one
thing is everything with him. _He separates himself_ from all outward
hindrances, vain company, trifling amusements or studies, needless
engagements, that he may _seek and intermeddle with all wisdom._ John
_separated himself_ in the wilderness, Paul in Arabia, our blessed
Lord in frequent retirement, in order to greater concentration in
their momentous work. Deeply does the Christian minister feel the
responsibility of this holy _separation,_ that he may "give himself
wholly to" his office (1 Tim. iv. 15; 2 Tim. ii. 4). Without
it--Christian--thy soul can never prosper. How canst thou
_intermeddle with the great wisdom_ of knowing thyself, if thy whole
mind be full of the world's chaff and vanity? There must be a
withdrawal, to "commune with thine own heart" and to ask the
questions--"Where art thou? What doest thou here?" Much is there to
be inquired into and pondered. Everything here calls for our deepest,
closest thoughts. We must walk with God in secret, or the enemy will
walk with us, and our souls will die. "Arise, go forth into the
plain, and I will there talk with thee" (Ezek. iii. 22). "When thou
wast under the fig-tree I saw thee" (John i. 48). Deal much in
secrecy, if thou wouldst know "the secret of the Lord." Like thy
Divine Master, thou wilt never be less alone than when alone (Ib.
xvi. 32). There is much to be wrought, gained, and enjoyed. Thy most
spiritual knowledge, thy richest experience will be found here. And
then, when we look around us into the infinitely extended field of
the Revelation of God, what a world of heavenly _wisdom is there to
intermeddle with!_ In the hurry of this world's atmosphere how little
can we apprehend it! And yet such is the field of wonder, that the
contemplation of a single point overwhelmed the Apostle with adoring
astonishment (Rom. xi. 33). Here are "things, which even the angels
desire to look into" (1 Pet. i. 12). The redeemed will be employed
throughout eternity in this delighted searching; exploring "the
breadth, the length, and depth, and height," until they be "filled
with all the fulness of God" (Eph. iii. 18, 19). Surely then if we
have any _desire,_ we shall _separate ourselves_ from the cloudy
atmosphere around us, that we may have fellowship with these happy
investigators of the Divine mysteries.--_Bridges._
The _separated one_ here is the impenitent. _"The aims of a man left
to himself"_ is really a translation of but two words, meaning _a
separated one seeks. "At the dictate of desire"_ is but one noun with
a preceding particle, meaning _after,_ or _according to._ The noun
means a _longing._ The sentence means that when a man gets separated
from his place in the universe he _seeks,_ or _has a pursuit,_ after
his present bent or longing. The word translated _wisdom_ in the
second clause is derived from a verb that means to _be_ or _stand_
with some stability (see comment on chap. ii. 7), yielding the sense
the lost man sits careless to what is _"stable."_ He does not regard
it. He strikes for what he desires. A pretty thing for him to cavil!
since _"against everything stable he just lets himself roll."_. . .
The whole meaning is that the lost man is in high chase under the
spur of appetite, and ruthlessly bears down _everything
stable.--Miller._
_"Through desire"_ (through self-willed and self-seeking desire of
wisdom)--_"wisdom,"_ Heb. _tushigyah,_ lit. all that is solid and
stable: subsistence, essence, existence. The Pharisees were such;
from the Hebrew, _pharash,_ to separate. They trusted in themselves,
and in their own wisdom, despising others (Luke xviii. 9, xvi. 15;
Jude 19). All heresy has more or less originated in the self-conceit
which leads men to separate themselves from the congregation of the
Lord (Ezek. xiv. 7; Hosea ix. 10; Heb x. 25). The two evils censured
are (1) that of those who think they are born for themselves, and
that others ought to be ministers of their self-seeking desires;
(2) that of those who intermeddle with what does not concern them.
The motive is through (his own) _"desire"_ of being esteemed
singularly learned, as verse 2 shows, not from sincere "delight in
understanding." His aim is singularity, through self-seeking desire
(Psa. x. 3; cxii. 10) of raising himself to a separate elevation from
the common crowd, and of being thought versed in all that can be
known: so "he intermeddleth with all wisdom." His restless appetite
for making himself peculiar and separate from others is marked by the
indefinite verb "seeketh," it not being added what he seeketh, for he
hardly knows himself what.--_Fausset._
If we have to decide between the two interpretations, one blaming and
the other commending the life of isolation, the answer must be that
the former is more in harmony with the broad, genial temper of the
Book of Proverbs.--_Plumptre._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 3.
This verse also, as will be seen from a reference to the Critical
Notes, and also from the Comments, is susceptible of several
interpretations. We think it treats of--
THE SHORT-LIVED PROSPERITY OF EVIL MEN.
+I. Wicked men do come into places of power and influence.+ This fact
has often tried the faith of righteous men. Asaph's _"steps had
well-nigh slipped"_ when he saw _"the prosperity of the
wicked"_--that _"violence covered them as a garment,"_ and that they
_"set their mouth against the heavens;"_ and yet that _"their
strength was firm,"_ and _"they had more than heart could wish"_
(Psa. lxxiii. 2-8). The tiller of the soil knows from experience that
the useless weeds and noxious plants often seem to absorb all the
nutriment from the earth, and so make it well-nigh impossible for the
useful herb and sweet-scented flower to grow in the same field or
garden. And moral weeds seem to have a like capability of utilising
everything that comes in their way to their own advancement--the
unrighteous man makes a fortune, or a position, or a name for
himself, while his godly neighbour is struggling for a bare
subsistence. In the field of the world, the tares grow as well as the
wheat (Matt. xiii. 26), and often they seem for a time to be more
flourishing. Ahab and Jezebel dwell in Samaria, and Elijah is
compelled to flee into the desert. Herod feasts in the palace, while
John the Baptist is beheaded in the dungeon.
+II. Contempt and reproach are their final portion.+ Their day of
power is short-lived. David has recorded as his experience that he
had _"seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a
green bay-tree"_--but he _"passed by, and lo, he was not"_ (Psa.
xxxvii. 35). And however their success may dazzle men's eyes and warp
their judgment for a season, contempt is their portion at last. They
are often held in contempt even while living, and the reproaches of
those who have been made to suffer by them are heaped upon their
heads. Many of those who fawned upon them and flattered them while
they were prospering will be most ready to scorn and upbraid them, if
the day of their retribution arrives before they quit this world. And
if they keep their power and influence throughout the term of their
human probation, their names will be contemned by posterity, and in
the day when "everyone receives the things done in his body" (2 Cor.
v. 10), they shall _"awake to shame and everlasting contempt"_ (Dan.
xii. 2).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
When a _"wicked"_ man enters upon the stage, that creature, the most
degraded of the universe, and who has the least right to show any
_contempt,_ is the _very_ person to be the most _contemptuous;_ and
the mortal who is himself most _disgraced,_ shows the readiest mind
to cry shame upon and to _reproach_ and that even the Most High.
Doubtless there is secular truth in all this. The _disgraced_ citizen
is often the most _reproachful.--Miller._
I. They bring "contempt," not to themselves only, but to the places
they fill, and the societies to which they become united--to
themselves, for the unworthy manner in which they fulfil the duties
of the trust they have assumed, or have had committed to them; and to
their places and societies, with which their names are associated.
They entail _"ignominy and reproach"_ upon all they have to do with.
And in no case is this more true, than with regard to offences in the
Church. O what an amount of scorn and reproach has been brought upon
the sacred office of the ministry by the intrusion, under numberless
pretexts, and from numberless causes, of wicked, worldly, ungodly men
into its holy function! How full is Church history of this deplorable
evil!--and how many infidels and scorners has Church history by this
means produced. Thus it was under the old dispensation. The
wickedness of the sons of Eli made men "abhor the offering of the
Lord." And thus it is still. Of the "false teachers" who should arise
in the latter days, it is said--"by reason of them the way of truth
shall be evil-spoken of." From few other sources, if from any, has
there proceeded a greater profusion of unmerited "reproach" of the
name and doctrine and kingdom of the Lord; or has "the chair of the
scorner" drawn a greater number and variety of its sarcastic sneers
and bitter revilings. II. The phrase may mean--"When the wicked
cometh" into _intimacy, companionship, familiarity,_ "then cometh
contempt."--He who admits the wicked to his intimacy--makes him his
associate--must share the infamy of his ill-chosen companion. Many a
time too has _this_ been exemplified.--_Wardlaw._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 4.
A GOOD MAN'S MOUTH.
We must understand Solomon here to refer to a good man--to a man
whose words are in harmony with the mind of God. Of such a man it may
be said that his words are as deep waters and as a living spring.
+I. Because his soul is in communication with an exhaustless source
of spiritual life and wisdom.+ Rivers and wells that are fed from the
mountain recesses which are filled with eternal snows never dry
up--they are fed from a source that is never exhausted. So long as
the lasting hills remain, and the present natural laws govern the
world they must give forth every day abundant streams. A
communication has been established between the soul of a good man and
the living God--he holds constant communion with a source of
spiritual life which can never fail, and consequently he can never be
at a loss for subjects upon which to discourse--his mind is always
filled with new thoughts of God, and new hopes of heaven upon which
to meditate himself and which he can communicate to others.
+II. Because that which flows from his lips is beneficial and
refreshing to others.+ The waters in a shallow and stagnant pond give
little or no refreshment to the thirsty traveller; they may even be
the means of imparting disease to those who drink of them, or who
live near them. But the water from a well, or from a deep and flowing
stream, is generally pure and wholesome to the taste, and refreshing
to the land through which it flows. And so it is with the speech of a
godly man. Very mighty are the influence of words for good or for
ill. Our first parents lost Eden by listening to the words of the
tempter, and the speech of the wicked always diffuses an unwholesome
moral atmosphere around it, if it does not eject a deadly poison into
the soul. But the conversation and teaching of the godly are always a
means of moral health to others; by their words they witness for the
truth of God, and are the means of _"opening men's eyes, and turning
them from darkness to light, from the power of Satan unto God"_ (Acts
xxvi. 13). And, like their Divine Master, they _"know how to speak a
word in season to him that is weary"_ (Isa. l. 4), and thus that
which flows from their lips is as refreshing and healthful to weary
and struggling men and women on the highway of life as the living,
cooling water-course is to the dusty and thirsty traveller.
+III. Because the flow is natural and spontaneous.+ Water may be sent
through a tract of country by artificial means; fields may be watered
and reservoirs filled by calling in science to supply natural
deficiencies. But there is, after all, no comparison between this
kind of forced irrigation and that which is the result of natural
causes. If there is water beneath the surface of the earth it must
force its way and find an outlet; it needs no hand of man to come to
its aid; it penetrates the soil and forms a fertilising stream in
obedience to natural law. And so the speech of a good man has nothing
forced or artificial about it. It is the overflow of heartfelt
experience. Like the apostles of old, he _"cannot but speak the
things which he has seen and heard"_ (Acts iv. 20). The _"good
things"_ of his lips are the natural outcome of the _"good treasure
of his heart," "for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth
speaketh"_ (Matt. xii. 34, 35).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Talleyrand defined speech to be the art of concealing one's opinions.
Speech, even without any attempt at concealment, must be endlessly
deep and wide as uttering all our being. Who can translate all its
outgoings? If this be so with man, who shall judge of God and censure
His obscurer revelations? Solomon is satisfied with one great
difference,--that while men's speech is _"deep,"_ God's speech is
both _"deep"_ and _"living."_ One has a vital source, the other is
dead and stagnant. Grant that both are obscure. One is the darkness
of a pool, the other the breadth and gush of an overflowing water. We
ought to submit to mystery in God, for the tide of His utterance is
to flow on for ever.--_Miller._
One "greater than Solomon" "astonished the people" by the clearness,
no less than by the _depth of the waters_ (Matt. vii. 28, 29). No
blessing is more valuable than a "rich indwelling of the Word," ready
to be brought out on all suitable occasions of instruction. If the
wise man sometimes "spares his words," it is not for want of matter,
but for greater edification. The stream is ready to flow, and
sometimes can scarcely be restrained. The cold-hearted, speculative
professor has his _flow_--sometimes a torrent of words, yet without a
drop of profitable matter; chilling, even when doctrinally correct;
without life, unction, or love. Lord! deliver us from this barren
"talk of the lips" (chap. xiv. 23). May our _waters be deep,_ flowing
from thine own inner sanctuary, refreshing and fertilising the Church
of God!--_Bridges._
In the two clauses of the verse, on the principle of parallelism,
there appears to be an inversion of the same sentiment; for, properly
speaking, the words uttered are not the "deep waters," but the stream
that issues from them; and, on the other hand, "the wellspring of
wisdom" is not "the flowing brook," but the deep and copious fountain
or reservoir from which it issues. Another passage may serve to
confirm this view. "Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water;
but a man of understanding will draw it out." Here, the counsel is
the deep water, not the words. But the words are the stream which the
deep waters send forth. The words bring out and contain the
counsel.--_Wardlaw._
It must be remembered that "deep waters" are associated in the Old
Testament with the thought of darkness and mystery (xx. 5; Psalms
lxix. 2; Eccles. vii. 24), and we get a more profound thought if we
see in the proverb a comparison between all teaching from without and
that of the light within. The words of a man's mouth are dark as the
"deep waters of a pool, or tank; but the well-spring of wisdom is as
a flowing brook, bright and clear." So taken the verse presents a
contrast like that of Jeremiah ii. 13.--_Plumptre._
When this word _vir_ is used for man in sacred Scriptures it
signifieth one who is strong and mighty, and for his strength great
and excellent, and then by a man here we may understand him who is
mighty and great in knowledge; the words of such a man are as deep
waters, to the bottom whereof the shallow capacity of every one is
not able to reach. But yet where the spring of those waters is a
well-spring of wisdom, though sometimes it send forth deep waters,
yet it doth not always; for that were to overwhelm the hearers. But
at other times it is as a flowing brook, more shallow for capacity,
but more forcible also in the stream of it, and either by persuasive
exhortation carrying on the hearers to a pursuit of virtue and
godliness, or else by a dissuasive reproof carrying them away from
the practice of wickedness, and in both washing away the stains of
their sinful lives. Wherefore St. Gregory saith, so must every
preacher deal with his hearers as God dealeth with him; he must not
preach to the simple as much as he knoweth because himself doth not
know of heavenly mysteries as much as they are.--_Jermin._
The subject of verse 5 has been treated in the Homiletics on chap.
xvii., verses 15 and 26.
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.--Verses_ 6-8.
FOLLY AND ITS RESULTS.
+I. None but a foolish man seeks contention.+ As we saw in the
previous chapter (verse 14) contention or strife is an evil of which
none at its beginnings can see the end. It may seem a very
insignificant deed to strike a flint and steel together so as to
produce a single spark, but one spark may produce a terrible and
destructive fire. When a settler in a forest rubs two dry sticks
together the act seems a trifling one, but the friction in time
develops the latent heat of the wood, and there is enough fire
brought into activity to lay low many a mighty forest tree. None but
foolish men and children ever play with fire, and when they do it
they generally suffer themselves first, but they are often not the
only sufferers. So it is with contention, or a dispute in words. Wise
men are often obliged to contend for truth and right, but they never
_seek_ an occasion of dispute. But there are moral fools who think it
only an amusement to pick a quarrel, little heeding what the
consequences of it may be, not caring if blows succeed to angry
words, or perhaps even desiring that they should do so. But although
a man may play with fire and escape unharmed, or may even apply a
torch to his neighbour's house without singeing so much as a hair of
his own head, no fool's lips enter into contention or call for
strokes without bringing retribution upon his own head. "His mouth"
is in his own "destruction," and "his lips are the snare of his
soul," for it is a law as old as the universe that _"with what
measure ye meet it shall be measured to you again"_ (Matt. vi. 1, 2).
The man who seeks contention will always find others like-minded with
himself who will be willing to do for them what he has done for
others, and he who "calls for strokes" upon his fellow-creatures will
receive them upon his own head with compound interest.
+II. None but a cruel man will be a tale-bearer.+ A quarrelsome,
passionate man is a fool, and he is also a cruel man, but he is not
so cruel as the tale-bearer. The first man wounds, but he inflicts
his injury in open daylight and in the front of his victim, but the
second is like the treacherous footpad whose face is never seen and
whose step is never heard, but who comes up behind his prey in the
dark and leaves no trace behind but the mortal sword-thrust. But it
must not be forgotten that there must always be two persons
implicated in the guilt and cruelty of thus killing the reputation of
a fellow-creature. The tale-bearer must have a repository for his
slanders--the busy tongue must have a listening ear or no mischief
would be done, and tale-bearing would die out for want of an
atmosphere in which it could live. A reference to the Critical Notes
will show that the word translated "wounds" may be rendered
"dainties," and it is because evil reports of others are so keenly
relished by an unsanctified man that the words of a tale-bearer are
able to inflict such suffering and work so much ill in the world.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Verse 6. The emperor Julian used to banter the Christians with that
precept of our Lord, "When thine adversary smites thee on the one
cheek, turn to him the other also:" but Christians consult their ease
as well as their consciences when they obey this precept in the
spirit of it; whereas proud and passionate fools, when they give vent
to their rancorous spirits, because they cannot bear the shadow of an
indignity, not only turn the other cheek to their adversary, but
smite, and urge, and almost force him to strike and destroy
them.--_Lawson._
Verse 8. The bite of a viper is not so deadly as the wound of these
"tale-bearers'" stories and insinuations. The truth is they contrive
to infuse _their_ poison without a bite. If they would but appear in
their true character;--would they but show their fangs, and make us
feel them, we should be put upon our guard. We know the viper. We
shun it. And when it has unhappily succeeded in wounding us, we
instantly have recourse to means for preventing the poison from
getting into the mass of the blood, and pervading the system. But
these _human_ vipers infuse their poison in the language of kindness
and love. "Their words are smoother than oil; yet are they drawn
swords;"--envenomed fangs, of which the virus gets into our system
ere we are aware, works its mischievous and morally deadly effects,
and becomes incapable of extraction. Every attempt at its removal
still leaves some portion of it behind. There is, in the original
word, an implication of softness, simplicity, undesignedness, which
only gives the secret weapon with which the wound is inflicted the
greater keenness.--_Wardlaw._
The tongue of the tale-bearer is a two-edged sword, at once it
cutteth on both sides, and his words are his wounds, at once wounding
both him of whom he speaketh and him to whom he speaketh. To the one
he gives the wounds of his slandering, to the other the wounds of his
flattering. The one he woundeth so, that his blow is neither heard,
seen, nor felt. The other he woundeth so, that though his blow be
heard, seen, and felt, yet it is not perceived: in both they go down
into the heart, as revealing the heart of the one, and as removing
the heart of the other from him. . . . Or the words may be
translated, _the words of a tale-bearer are as smoothing words:_ for
he frameth his own words to as much softness, as those which he
reporteth he maketh to be hard. And indeed, as they sound, they are
commonly so pleasing, that they easily slip down into the heart,
where they are readily entertained.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 9.
TWIN-BROTHERS.
+I. Slothfulness and prodigality have the same origin.+ As brothers
are the children of a common parent, so sloth and waste have their
root in the common sin of ungodliness; men are spendthrifts or they
are lazy, because they have no right sense of their obligations to
God and to man--because they do not look upon their life as a
stewardship for which they must give an account (Rom. xiv. 12), but
as a gift which they are at liberty to spend as they please. The acts
of the prodigal and the slothful man differ in themselves, but they
all spring from that spirit of self-pleasing which is the essence of
ungodliness.
+II. The slothful man is a waster of God's most precious gifts.+
Twin-brothers are often so much alike that it is difficult for
onlookers to distinguish one from the other. And there is an aspect
in which we may view the slothful man in which we not only note the
close resemblance he bears to his prodigal brother, but in which he
is transformed into the prodigal himself. For the negative
sinner--the man who does nothing--is a waster of his time and of his
talents, and is therefore guilty of a positive crime. The man who
"hid the Lord's talent" was visited with a stern sentence as a
positive transgressor (Matt. xxv. 25). If we convict a man of
prodigality for wasting gold, what shall we say of him who wastes
what no gold can buy? "Time," says J. A. James, "is the most precious
thing in the world. When God gives us a moment, He does not promise
us another, as if to teach us highly to value and improve it, by the
consideration, for aught we know, it may be the last. Time, when
gone, never returns. We talk about 'fetching up' a lost hour, but the
thing is impossible. A moment once lost, is lost for ever. We could
as rationally set out to find a sound that had expired in air, as to
find a lost moment." And when we reflect what infinite results depend
upon what a man does with his time, we see the force of the proverb,
because the slothful man is a waster of the most precious commodity
in this world.
+III. The results of both extravagance and sloth are the same.+ It
makes no difference in the end whether a man gets nothing, or spends
all that he gets, he can come to poverty by either road. The one has
been compared to a man who dies by a rapid and violent disease, and
the other by a slow and subtle consumption. But the grave, sooner or
later, receives them both.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The practical lesson is, that in personal and domestic interests,
_diligence_ and _economy_ should _go together,_ and that the one
without the other never can avail for either obtaining or securing
even the comforts of life. Of what use is industry if its proceeds
are not prudently managed when they come in?--if husband, or wife, or
both, be destitute of discretion, improvident and thriftless? if
there is the absence of all sober and considerate calculation, and,
as a consequence, no due proportioning of outlay to income, but a
reckless and wasteful expenditure, leaving an unlooked-for
deficiency--a woful amount _minus_--at the year's end? The poor
inconsiderate fools never think what they are about. They keep no
daily reckoning--no accounts; and so their money is gone, they can't
tell how--they had no idea they were living at such a rate!--and even
when they have made the discovery there is no improvement. They say,
possibly, _they must take care;_ but they only _say_ it, and
immediately forget it. Things go on as before; and still (to use
rather a colloquial, but sufficiently expressive phrase), what is
taken in by the door is thrown out by the window; and still the
wonder continues _how it goes!_ They are ever marvelling how _other
folks do._ They can't understand it. For _their_ parts, all that
comes in finds its way off from them as fast as it comes, and many a
time faster! Thus, as might be expected, there are the same
appearances of bareness, and cheerlessness, and want, in the dwelling
of the _thriftless_ as in that of the _slothful._ Extremes thus
meet. . . . _Diligence,_ let me remind you, is as necessary for the
acquisition of spiritual as of temporal good--of the riches of Divine
knowledge of the mind, as of the blessings of the Divine life to the
heart. And not less is _economy of means._ How often may it be seen,
that with means of a very limited and stinted amount, there is more
of spiritual prosperity in one instance, than is discoverable in
another, with means the most varied and abundant. Many believers, it
is to be feared, are spiritual spendthrifts. They use their
privileges on no principle of economy. They read, they hear, they
frequent ordinances--and yet their progress in spiritual attainments
bears no proportion to the extent of their advantages. Rich in
privileges, they are poor in the graces and enjoyments of the life of
God in the soul. Why? The answer is plain. They who thrive on slender
means, make the most of what they have; whereas they who live in the
midst of abundance get into habits of carelessness, and of the
prodigal use of what they have.--_Wardlaw._
The word also here used may seem to refer this verse to that which
goeth before it; and then it is a further description of a
talebearer. For he is commonly a fellow slothful in his work, being
busy in his words, and he is indeed brother to him that is a great
waster, spoiling his own estate by his slothfulness, and by the
mischief which his talebearing falleth upon him; and spoiling him to
whom he talketh by the ill mind which he putteth into him.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 10 _and_ 11.
TWO CITADELS.
+I. The citadel of him who trusts in the Lord.+ _"The name of the
Lord."_ God has revealed Himself to men by many names, each one of
which is intended to set forth some attribute of His perfect nature.
The name "I AM," by which He revealed Himself to Israel (Exod.
iii. 14) set forth His eternal self-existence, but He has also
revealed Himself by names which are used to express human relations,
such as king, judge, husband, father. These names are often borne by
men who are destitute of the qualifications and feelings proper to
the relationships which they express, but when any one of them is
applied to God it is applied to one who combines within Himself all
those attributes of character in perfection which ought to be
possessed in some degree by men who are called by these names. The
righteous man's refuge, then, is a Living Personality--a
Self-existent and Eternal King and Father, infinite in power, in
wisdom, and in tenderness. It is therefore 1. _An ever-present
refuge._ "God is not far from every one of us" (Acts xvii. 27), and
being ever near, is always accessible. 2. _An impregnable refuge._
Before an enemy can attack those who have taken refuge in a fortress,
they must carry the citadel itself. So before any enemy can harm a
righteous man, he must overcome the Almighty God; he must circumvent
His plans, and overthrow His purposes.
"When His wisdom can mistake,
His might decay, His love forsake,"
_then,_ but not till then, will those be exposed to danger who have
put their trust in Him. 3. _An eternal refuge._ The _"arms"_ of
strength that defend the children of God are _"everlasting arms"_
(Deut. xxxiii. 7). Many of the ancient fortresses that are scattered
over our land were once deemed impregnable refuges. But although they
bade defiance to many an assault of men in battle-array, they have
had to yield to a more subtle enemy. Time has crumbled their once
mighty walls, and made them unfit for purposes of defence. But the
righteous man can say to Him who is his "strong tower," _"Lord, Thou
hast been our dwelling-place in all generations. . . . Even from
everlasting to everlasting Thou art God"_ (Psa. xc. 1, 2).
+II. The stronghold of the man who trusts in riches.+ 1. _Riches are
no defence against a man's most powerful enemies._ While a man has
wealth he is defended from many bodily ills and from many vexations
of spirit. A man of narrow means has often to fight a hard battle to
supply his bodily necessities, and is a stranger to those luxuries
which make his life, in this respect, so comfortable to a rich man.
And a poor man has also to bend his will to the will of his richer
neighbour--to endure often "th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's
contumely." Wealth is a defence against all these enemies to a man's
comfort. But there are troubles far heavier than any of these, from
which riches afford no protection. Disease and death cannot be turned
aside with money--a troubled soul cannot be comforted with gold. A
bed of down cannot do much for a man whose body is racked with
pain--it can do nothing for him whose soul is bowed down by sorrow,
or smitten with a fear of death. In any of these straits a soul can
find no "strong city" of refuge in the possession of untold millions;
these enemies laugh at such a wall of defence. The man who trusts in
material wealth as his chief good, has either made too low an
estimate of his own needs, or too high an estimate of the power of
wealth. 2. _Wealth is a fortress with a most uncertain foundation._
Granted that it is a defence against some very real ills, who can
insure to himself a continuance of his present possessions? The
uncertainty of riches has been a subject upon which the sages and
moralists of all ages have dwelt--the millionaire of to-day may be a
beggar to-morrow, and he who was last year surrounded by this "high
wall," which shut in so much that was agreeable to his senses and
shut out so many discomforts from his temporal life, may be standing
to-day a forlorn, unsheltered creature, with only the ruins of his
once imposing fortress around him. On this subject see also
Homiletics on chap. xi. 28.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The strong refuge is not only safe, but _"set aloft,"_ so the word
signifies, out of gunshot. None can pull out of His hands. Run
therefore to God by praying, not fainting. This is the best policy
for security. That which is said of wily persons that are full of
fetches, of windings, and of turnings in the world, that such will
never break, is much more true of a righteous, praying Christian. He
hath but one grand policy to secure him against all dangers, and that
is, to run to God.--_Trapp._
To this tower the wicked are sometimes driven in distress, then
seeking help here, when it is nowhere else to be found. But the
righteous in any distress runneth presently unto it. Thither their
eyes look, thither their hearts carry them. Yea, they are not only
carried _unto_ it but _into_ it, by placing their confidence in it,
and making it their safety. They are well acquainted with the way,
and therefore can make speed; they have cast off the clogs of worldly
impediments and so are fit for _running;_ they think it much longer
until they come to God, than impatient hearts do until they come to
help.--_Jermin._
To "the righteous" God is good, and he nestles and shelters himself
in that; _"runs into"_ the nurture and shelter of God's love, and, in
the comfort of this _strong tower, "is lifted high."_ But there is a
profounder sense. The very _"name"_ that is cavilled at by the lost
is the foundation of the Christian's safety. "What the law could not
do in that it was weak through the flesh," God did by His _"name."_
He gave it to Christ's humanity. More specifically speaking, He used
it in the _"name"_ of His own righteousness, to balance our guilt and
to give weight and value to the price of His redemption. We are
repeatedly said to be saved by the _"name"_ of God (Psa. liv. 1; John
xvii. 11, 12). And this is the meaning. The perfect holiness of God,
which the lost man would upbraid, is what is vital in the cross of
Christ. It is not only "a strong tower," but our only defence. And
the act of faith is a renouncing of self and a snatching at "the
name," that is, the righteousness or substituted standing of our
Great Deliverer.--_Miller._
_Take the sinner in his first awakening conviction._ He trembles at
the thought of eternal condemnation. He looks forward--all is terror;
backward--nothing but remorse; inward--all is darkness. Till now he
had no idea of his need of salvation. His enemy now suggests that it
is beyond his reach; that he has sinned too long and too much,
against too much light and knowledge; how can he be saved? But _the
name of the Lord_ meets his eye. He spells out every letter, and
putting it together, cries--"Who is a God like unto thee?" (Mic.
vii. 18). He runs to _it, as to a strong tower._ His burden of
conscience is relieved. His soul is set free, and he enjoys his
_safety. Take--again--the child of God_--feeble, distressed,
assaulted. "What, if I should return to the world, look back, give up
my profession, yield to my own deceitful heart, and perish at last
with aggraved condemnation?" You are walking outside the gates of
_your tower;_ no wonder that your imprudence exposes you to "the
fiery darts of the wicked." Read again _the name of the Lord!_ Go
back within the walls--See upon the _tower the name_--"I am the Lord;
I change not" (Mal. iii. 6). Read the direction to trust in it--"Who
is there among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of
his servant: that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? _Let him
trust in the name of the Lord,_ and stay upon his God" (Isa. l. 10).
Mark the warrant of experience in this trust--"They that know _thy
name_ shall put their trust in Thee; for thou, Lord, hast not
forsaken them that seek Thee" (Psalm ix. 10). Thus sense of danger,
knowledge of the way, confidence in _the strength of the tower_--all
gives a spring of life and earnestness to _run into it._ Here the
_righteous_--the man justified by the grace, and sanctified by the
Spirit of God--_runneth_ every day, every hour; realizing at once his
fearful danger, and his perfect security.--_Bridges._
For Homiletics on verse 12, see on chap. xi. 2 and xvi. 18.
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 13.
ANSWERING BEFORE HEARING.
+I. A man who gives judgement in a matter before he has heard all the
facts of the case wrongs himself.+ If he were to give his opinion
upon a building as soon as the builders had dug out the foundation,
or were to criticise a picture when the artist had only sketched its
outline upon his canvas, he would be deemed a fool, and what he said
would have no weight whatever. Men would justly say that the house or
the picture had as yet no existence, and therefore could not be
judged. And a man who has only heard a part of "a matter" is in no
better position to judge in it, and commits as great a folly if he
attempts to do so. He does violence to his very understanding--to
those mental faculties which enable him to place things side by side
and to compare them, and to sift and weigh evidence before he arrives
at a conclusion. Unless he does this, the opinion that he forms
to-day will be altered to-morrow, and his mind will never be firmly
made up on any subject. As a necessary consequence, nobody will give
much heed to his judgment--no thoughtful person will attach much
weight to his words--and he will thus deprive himself of that
consideration and respect which he might otherwise have enjoyed.
+II. Such a man often deeply wrongs others.+ A half-told story often
makes the state of matters appear so different from the truth that it
is a gross injustice to condemn or justify any person when that is
all that is known. A man who does it proclaims that he values very
lightly the reputation of those concerned, and is often a robber of
what is more to a man than his purse, viz. his good name.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Secularly, this is beyond a doubt; judicially, here is a great
outrage; socially, a something very impolite; but religiously, a
thing altogether a _"shame."_ Men born yesterday might certainly
afford to listen. Life is a wide thing; and might, at least, be acted
through, before in the darker points we insist upon a judgment. . . .
_Folly,_ and therefore, mischief; _shame,_ and therefore, ill desert.
These elements often appear together.--_Miller._
According to Mr. Stuart Mill, it might be plausibly maintained that
in almost every one of the leading controversies, past or present, in
social philosophy, both sides were right in what they affirmed,
though wrong in what they denied; and that if either could have been
made to take the other's views in addition to his own, little more
would have been needed to make its doctrine correct. . . . Nicodemus
did well to start the seasonable query, "Doth our law judge any man
before it hear him, and know what he doth?" Festus did well to
protest that it was not the manner of the Romans to deliver any man
to die before that he which was accused had the accusers face to
face, and had licence to answer for himself concerning the charge
laid against him. And in the same spirit and by the same rule,
otherwise applied, had Felix done well to defer hearing Paul's
defence until Paul's accusers were present. . . . Aristides, they
tell us, would lend but one ear to anyone who accused an absent
"party," and used to hold his hand on the other, intimating that he
reserved one ear for the absentee accused. . . . Cicero, "the
greatest orator, save one, of antiquity," has left it on record, as
we are pertinently reminded on the _Essays on Liberty,_ that he
always studied his adversaries' case with as great intensity as his
own, if not still greater. And what Cicero practised as the means of
forensic success, requires, as the essayist urges, to be imitated by
all who study any subject in order to arrive at the truth. For he who
knows only his own side of the case is convicted of knowing little of
that; his reasons may be good and no one may have been able to refute
them, but if he is equally unable to refute the reasons on the
opposite side, if he does not so much as know what they are, what
rational ground has he for preferring either opinion?--_Jacox._
We ought to be the more cautious in forming and pronouncing opinions,
because we are so little disposed to admit conviction if we fall into
mistakes, or to retract them upon conviction. It is commonly supposed
that ministers cannot repent, although they do not claim, like the
Pope, the gift of infallibility; and there is too much reason for the
supposition, provided it be not restricted to that order of men: for
the same pride that makes one set of men stubborn in their wrong
opinions is to be found in other men, although it is not perhaps so
much strengthened by particular circumstances, nor so visible in
their conduct, because they meet not with the same temptations to
discover it. How many do we find who will not change their sentiments
about religion, or about persons and things, upon the clearest
evidence, and give way to anger upon the least contradiction to their
favourite notions, as if their dearest interests were attacked!
Saints themselves are not entirely delivered from this selfish
disposition, as we see in the behaviour of David to Mephibosheth,
after he had pronounced a rash sentence in his case.--_Lawson._
The sources of the evil are various. There is--1. Natural or acquired
_eagerness of spirit,_ and _impatience of protracted inquiry._ Such
minds cannot bear anything that requires close and long-sustained
attention. They become uneasy, fretted, and fidgety; and are ever
anxious to catch at any occasion for cutting the matter short and
being done with it. 2. The _sympathy of passion with one or the other
of the parties._ One of them happens to be their friend; and whether
it be he or his adversary that makes the statement, partiality for
him stirs their resentment at the injury done to him; the blood
warms, and, passion thus striking in, they hastily interrupt the
narration--will hear no more of it--and at once proceed to load the
enemy of their friend with abuse and imprecation. They know their
friend, and to them it is enough that he has been a sufferer; they
take it for granted that he must be in the right.
3. _Indolence--indisposition to be troubled._ This is a temper the
very opposite of the first, but producing a similar effect. The
former jumped to a conclusion from over-eagerness; this comes soon to
a close from sheer sluggishness of mind. It is to a man of this
stagnant and lazy temperament an exertion quite unbearable to keep
his mind so long on the stretch as to listen even to a statement, and
still more to an argument or pleading, that cannot be finished in a
breath and done with. His attention soon flags; he gets sick of it;
he seems as if he were listening when he is not, and with a yawn of
exhaustion and misery he pronounces his verdict, and at times with
great decision, for no other purpose than to get quit of the trouble.
He can stand it no longer. 4. _Self-conceit_--the _affectation of
extraordinary acuteness._ This would be an amusing character, were it
not, at the same time, so provoking. The self-conceited man assumes a
very sagacious and penetrating look--sits down with apparent
determination to hear out the cause on both sides, and to "judge
righteous judgment." But it is hardly well begun, when the
self-conceited man sees to the end of it. . . . It is surprising with
what agility this spirit of self-conceit gets over difficulties. It
sees none--no, never.
"Where others toil with philosophic force,
Its nimble nonsense takes a shorter course;
Flings at your head conviction in a lump,
And gains remote conclusions at a jump."
--_Wardlaw._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 14.
SICKNESS OF BODY AND WOUNDS OF SOUL.
+I. A man can rise above pain of body.+ Men who do not seek
supernatural help sometimes do it. They are endowed with a natural
courage which makes them scorn to be overcome by physical pain, or
they are naturally very hopeful, and are enabled in some measure to
look beyond the present suffering to a time of relief in the future.
Or intense excitement of the mind renders them for a time at least
oblivious to bodily sensations. How many illustrations of this last
case we have in men who have been desperately wounded in battle, and
yet have been so intensely absorbed in the terrible contest that they
have seemed scarcely aware of it, and have kept their position until
their strength has utterly failed. But it is pre-eminently the godly
man who can "sustain" infirmity of body. It is a fact of history that
godly men and women have been even joyful in spirit when suffering
great bodily pain. Instances are common in which those who have been
in agony of body from some terrible disease have been full of comfort
in their spirits, and have borne witness that they were conscious of
a sustaining power outside themselves--of supernatural help from
above which enabled them to "glory in tribulation." But this ability
of human creatures to rise above bodily suffering has been most
remarkably exemplified in those who have suffered because they were
the servants of God--who have been witnesses for the truth of the
Gospel of Christ. Even women have borne the most severe bodily
sufferings not only with fortitude but with exultation--lifted above
their bodily pain by a vivid realisation of unseen and spiritual
realities and an intense consciousness of the favour of God.
+II. But a wounded spirit crushes the entire man.+ The spirit of the
man is the man himself, his power to love, to hope, and to enjoy.
When these have lost their energy, there is nothing to lift him up,
and existence becomes an intolerable burden. The spirit can sustain
the body under its trials, but sensual gratification and physical
comforts can do nothing towards alleviating spiritual distress. But
observe:--1. _That all sorrow of heart does not crush a man._
Sanctified sorrow, although it wounds the spirit, yet it only wounds
it to raise it to a higher level--to make it capable of a more
refined enjoyment. Bereavement, the faithlessness of friends,
disappointed hopes, often deeply wound the spirit, yet men bear these
wounds and often are made better and stronger by them. A sense of the
favour of God and a peaceful conscience will prevent men from being
overwhelmed by even very keen mental sorrow. 2. _An unbearable wound
of spirit can be the portion of those only who have no sense of the
favour of God._ So long as a man has this no pain of body or sorrow
of soul can cast him down entirely, but without it he has little
power to bear manfully the burdens of life, and a sense of the
absence of it would be enough to crush him utterly although he had no
other burdens to bear.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Spiritual sickness varies (as some diseases do in the body according
to the constitution of the sick) thereafter as the soul is that hath
it, whether regenerate or reprobate. The malignancy is great in both,
but with far less danger in the former. 1. In the elect, this
spiritual sickness is an afflicted conscience, when God will suffer
us to take a deep sense of our sins, and bring us to the life of
grace by the valley of death, as it were by hell gates unto heaven.
There is no anguish to that of the conscience: "A wounded spirit who
can bear?" They that have been valiant in bearing wrongs, in
forbearing delights, have yet had womanish and coward spirits in
sustaining the terrors of a tumultuous conscience. If our strength
were as an army, and our lands not limited save with east and west,
if our meat mere manna, and our garments as the ephod of Aaron; yet
the afflicted conscience would refuse to be cheered with all these
comforts. When God shall raise up our sins, like dust and smoke in
the eyes of our souls . . . when He either hides His countenance from
us, or beholds us with an angry look; lo, then, if any sickness be
like this sickness, any calamity like the fainting soul! Many
offences touch the body which extend not to the soul; but if the soul
be grieved, the sympathising flesh suffers deeply with it. The blood
is dried up, the marrow wasted, the flesh pined, as if the powers and
pores of the body opened themselves like so many windows to discover
the passions of the distressed prisoner within. It was not the sense
of outward sufferings (for mere men have borne the agonies of death
undaunted) but the wrestling of God's wrath with His spirit, that
drew from Christ that complaint, able to make heaven and earth stand
aghast: "My soul is heavy unto death" (Matt. xxvi. 38). . . . Neither
is this sickness of conscience properly good in itself, nor any grace
of God, but used by God as an instrument of good to His, as when by
the spirit of bondage He brings us to adoption. So the needle that
draws the thread through the cloth is some means to join it
together. . . . 2. Spiritual sickness for sin befalling a reprobate
soul, is final and total desperation. This is that fearful consequent
which treads upon the heels of presumption. Cain's fratricide,
Judas's treachery, presumptuous, aspiring, heaven-daring sins, find
the final catastrophe, to despair of the mercy of God. . . . As if
the goodness of God, and the value of Christ's ransom, were below his
iniquity. As if the pardon of his sins would empty God's storehouse
of compassion, and leave His stock of mercy poor. . . . This is that
sin which not only offers injury and indignity to the Lord of heaven
and earth, but even breaks that league of kindness which we owe to
our own flesh. To commit sin is the killing of the soul; to refuse
hope of mercy is to cast it down to hell. Therefore St. Jerome
affirms that Judas sinned more in despairing of his Master's pardon
than in betraying Him; since nothing can be more derogatory to the
goodness of God, which He hath granted by promise and oath--two
immutable witnesses--to penitent sinners than to credit the father of
lies before Him.--_T. Adams._
"The spirit of a man may control his sickness, but a spirit of
upbraiding, who can carry that?" To give all up, and simply lie back
and murmur, is bad even for worldly disorders; but Solomon derives
out of it a much more profound spiritual sense. The "spirit of a
man," at least among those to whom Solomon wrote, had truth enough to
save him if he would only _listen. Control._ The original is
_contain,_ as in wine in a bottle, _sickness_--literally what is
physical; but in this same book employed for the spiritual malady. If
the soul, therefore, would lie quiet, and yield to its own light, it
would be joined by what is higher, and would contain, or control its
own malady; God helping, as He would, would check, and get the better
of it; but "a spirit of upbraiding"--and by this is meant precisely
the _quarrel_ (chap. xvii. 19) with God which has been so long
discussed--is what ruins all. It is upon them that are _contentious,_
and will not obey the truth, (Rom. ii. 8)--that truth being in all of
them through "the invisible things" which are seen "by the things
that are made" (Rom. i. 20)--that the apostle denounces "tribulation
and wrath, indignation and anguish." Not that men can save
themselves, but that they would save themselves under God's
influences if they did not contend with Him; that it is _"rebellion"_
that turns the scale (Psa. lxvii. 6); that there is light enough in
every man to draw him to saving light if he would only follow it; and
that on this very account it is the great sorrow of the sinner that
he has this "spirit of upbraiding," which, in the spiritual world, no
moral malady "can carry."--_Miller._
St. Gregory saith by patience we possess our souls, because, while we
learn to bear rule over ourselves, we begin to possess that which we
are. And surely, if thou be courageously patient, whatsoever thou
mayest lose yet thou enjoyest that which thou hast; or, if thou hast
nothing, yet thou shalt enjoy thyself, thou shalt enjoy the comfort
of thy own spirit. Whereas impatiency for anything that is lost
taketh away the comfort of all that remaineth, yea, the comfort of
thine own self.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 15.
PRUDENCE AND KNOWLEDGE.
We have before given a definition of prudence as wisdom applied to
practice; a prudent man is likewise defined as one "cautious to avoid
harm." Taking in both definitions, the text suggests--
+I. That ignorance exposes men to danger.+ This is true in relation
to any and every kind of evil to which men are exposed. A man who is
in the general sense of the term an ignorant man--who does not
possess even the rudimentary knowledge of an ordinary schoolboy--is
liable to be imposed upon and deceived by those who know more.
Ignorance of physical and scientific truth often leads men to expose
themselves to bodily danger without being aware of it, and ignorance
of spiritual truth often causes men to become victims of great moral
evil without realising their danger. If a man, therefore, desires to
avoid harm to body, mind, and soul, he must set himself to acquire
knowledge both in relation to things material and spiritual.
+II. Prudence, i.e., wisdom applied to practice, is an indispensable
qualification for obtaining knowledge.+ If a man possesses an estate
beneath whose surface he knows there lies buried much precious
mineral treasure, he must bring much wisdom and skill into play
before he has the treasure in his hand. Wisdom must be reduced to
practice in sinking the shaft and in working the mine before the
hidden wealth is brought to light to enrich its owner. He must work,
he must work in harmony with certain fixed laws if he is to become
possessor of the treasure. So with obtaining knowledge. A man must
exert himself--he must seek--and his exertions must be wisely
directed if he is to possess the knowledge which is better than any
material treasure because it enriches the better part of a man. It is
not enough to be active, but he must see that his actions are wisely
directed, that the means are adapted to the end in view. If there is
effort without wisdom to guide it there may be _seeking_ without
_getting._
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
A heart made discerning gains in knowledge, etc. This is a beautiful
fact. Snow gathers snow as we roll it on the ground. A wood gathers
wood, like all vegetable or vital growths. A sinner stands dead like
a blasted oak, but a saint not only lives by growing, but grows by
living.--_Miller._
"The _heart_" is here, as in many other instances, apparently used
for _the mind_ in general, including both the intellect and the
affections. There is in "the wise" a love of knowledge, and an
application of the mental powers for its attainment. And as _"the
ear"_ is one of the great inlets to instruction, it may here, with
propriety, be considered as comprehending all the ways in which
knowledge may be acquired.--_Wardlaw._
The common course is that _seeking_ goes before _getting,_ but here
getting is first, and seeking follows after. For surely they are the
best seekers of knowledge, and are most earnest after it, who have
already gotten it. They who have not gotten it do not know the worth
of it, and so have no mind to look after it, or if they have the
mind, they have no knowledge how to seek it. But they who have
already found it are so affected with the worth of it, so directed by
the light of it, as that they still seek more, still get
more.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 16.
THE INFLUENCE OF TALENT.
Understanding the gift here spoken of as a special mental endowment
(see Hitzig), we remark--
+I. That great abilities are gifts from God.+ There are certain
mental capabilities which are the common inheritance of men in
general, but it cannot be denied that there are men who, apart for
all the differences made by circumstances and education, have
capacities and abilities which far exceed those of ordinary men. The
gift of one talent is more common than the gift of ten, yet both the
ten and the one are gifts from the same hand. Although the Divine
Creator gives to all men _liberally,_ He does not give to all
_equally,_ but seeing that man is not responsible for this
inequality, those who are most richly endowed should find in the fact
of their superiority matter for gratitude and not for
self-glorification.
+II. Such a gift tends to the exaltation of the man who possesses
it.+ It "maketh room for him" in the world--it opens up to him many
opportunities of social advancement, and it "bringeth him before
great men,"--men who are either great in wealth and position or
intellectually and morally great, or are great in both senses of the
word. As surely as water will find its level, so a truly gifted man
will find some outlet for his talents--some sphere large enough to
use what has been bestowed upon him for the very purpose of being
used. Even Daniel, although a captive in Babylon, found that the
God-given powers within him made room for him at a heathen court and
brought him before more than one mighty monarch.
+III. Such a gift to a man is a gift for men.+ Although it tends to
his own personal exaltation and benefit, it is not bestowed for that
purpose only or chiefly. When God bestows upon one man capabilities
and endowments far above the common order, He does not intend to
bless that man alone by the gift, but he holds him responsible for
the use of the power put into his hand--He expects him so to enjoy
his talents that his fellow-men also may be blessed by the gift. Thus
the administrative ability which was bestowed upon Joseph was not
given for him simply or chiefly to bring him before Pharaoh for his
own advancement, but to bring blessing to the Egyptian nation, and to
further God's purposes concerning his own family. When the Lord
reckons with His servants, He will account that talent mis-used which
is used for self-aggrandisement alone.
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 17.
CROSS-EXAMINATION.
+I. The evidence of one person alone must not be too much depended
on.+ This is but another way of putting the old proverb that "One
tale is good till another is told." And this does not necessarily
imply that the first teller of the tale is an untruthful person, but
we are so apt to apprehend facts through the medium of our own
prejudices--to see things in the light in which we wish to see
them--that even two truthful men may sometimes vary much in their
version of the same occurrence. This will be more certainly the case
if it is a man's "own cause" that is under discussion, self-interest
is then very likely to lead him to give a one-sided statement. He may
unintentionally leave out facts which in the eyes of another person
may be very important, or he may being others into a prominence to
which an impartial judge may not consider them entitled. Hence--
+II. The need of cross-examination+--of another to "come and search
him." Questioning may not convict the first person of any
mis-statement, but it may elicit other facts which give quite a
different colouring to the whole. The wife of Potiphar seemed _"just
in her cause"_ when she declared that Joseph left his garment in her
hand and fled. This was not an untruth, and appearances were
certainly very much against her innocent victim, but if Joseph had
been allowed to tell his story too, the truth might have come to
light. Therefore we learn that we must not give a verdict for or
against an accused person until both he and his accuser have been
heard.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The first clause reads thus in the Hebrew, _"A righteous one, the
first in his quarrel,"_ and has a brevity which is practically too
great. The _righteous_ is not a _righteous_ man _pro vero,_ but only
_righteous,_ he having the first chance to speak. How true this is,
men for the first time in a court can easily imagine. Each last
strong speech comes out victorious. Now the lost has done all the
strong speaking as yet. Wait till God speaks, and the case will look
very differently.--_Miller._
In every case, the first information, if it have dwelt for a little
in the judge's mind, takes deep root, and colours and takes
possession of it, insomuch that it will hardly be washed out unless
either some clear falsehood be detected or some deceit in the
statement thereof.--_Bacon._
Saul made himself appear _just in his own cause._ The necessity of
the case seemed to warrant the deviation from the command. But Samuel
_searched him,_ and laid open his rebellion (1 Sam. xv. 17-23).
Ziba's cause _seemed_ just in David's eyes, until Mephibosheth's
explanation _searched him_ to his confusion. Job's incautious
self-defence was laid open by Elihu's probing application (Job
xxxiii. 8-12).--_Bridges._
In religious disputes it is a great injustice to depend for the
character of a sect, or an impartial representation of their
doctrines, upon one whom partially has blinded and rendered unfit,
however honest he may be, to do them justice. Party spirit has as
much influence as gifts to blind the eyes of the wise, and to pervert
the words of the righteous.--_Lawson._
This word, falling from heaven on the busy life of man, is echoed
back from every quarter in a universal acknowledgement of its
justness. . . . This scripture reveals a crook in the creature that
God made upright. There is a bias in the heart, the fountain of
impulse, and the resulting life-course turns deceitfully aside.
Self-love is the twist in the heart within, and self-interest is the
side to which the variation from righteousness steadily tends. . . .
The heart makes the lie, deceiving first the man himself, and
thereafter his neighbours. The bent is in the mould where the thought
is first cast in embryo, and everything that comes forth is crooked.
In my early childhood a fact regarding the relations of matter came
under my observation which I now see has its analogue in the moral
laws. An industrious old man, by trade a mason, was engaged to build
a certain piece of wall at so much per yard. He came at the appointed
time, laid the foundations according to the specifications, and
proceeded with his building, course upon course, according to the
approved methods of his craft. When the work had advanced several
feet above the ground, a younger man, with a steadier hand and a
brighter eye, came to assist the elder operator. Casting his eye
along the work, as he laid down his tools and adjusted his apron, he
detected a defect, and instantly called out to his senior partner
that the wall was not plumb. "It must be plumb," enjoined the
builder, somewhat piqued, "for I have laid every stone by the
plumb-line." Suiting the action to the word he grasped the rule, laid
it along his work, and triumphantly pointed to the lead vibrating and
settling down precisely on the cut that marks the middle. Sure enough
the wall was according to rule, and yet the wall was not plumb. The
rule was examined, and the discovery was made that the old man, with
his defective eyesight, had drawn the cord through the wrong slit at
the top of the instrument, and then from some cause which I cannot
explain, using only one side of it, had never detected the
mistake. . . . It is on some such principle that people err in
preparing a representation of their own case. They suspend their
plumb, not from the middle, but from one edge of the rule, and that
the edge which lies next their own interests.--_Arnot._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 18.
THE USE OF THE LOT.
We have before had the lot as a symbol of human freedom and Divine
pre-ordination (chap. xvi. 33, page 499). In this verse the thought
is the advantage of its use as putting an end to contention. That it
is thus a means to a most desirable end appears when we consider--
+I. That it prevents waste of time.+ Time is to human creatures a
very precious commodity, because the longest life lived in this world
is comparatively short. If a man has a very small inheritance he
cannot afford to have one and another of his neighbours encroaching
upon his land and taking a portion here and there, or others putting
their hands into his pockets and helping themselves to what is only
sufficient for his own needs. If a young artist has a sketch given to
him by his master which he is to fill up in a given time, he cannot
afford to spend the moments disputing with the fellow-pupils about
their respective rights to certain brushes and colours; while he is
contending the hours are going, and when the master calls for the
picture he will have none to show. A man's life is a limited
inheritance, given to him by God, to use first of all for his own
spiritual good, and he cannot afford to be robbed of any part of it.
It is an outline which God has given to him to be filled up in a
certain time--spiritual and mental capacities and abilities are
bestowed upon him which he is expected so to use as to form a godly
noble character, and he cannot afford to waste any of the life given
him for this purpose in contention with his brother man, thereby
arousing the devil within himself and in him with whom he disputes.
The use of the lot is therefore desirable under certain conditions
and restrictions, because in ending contention it saves time. When
the eleven Apostles were awaiting the seal of their commission, they
felt that they had no time to waste in contending who should fill up
the empty place in their band--they knew that, although they were
brethren in Christ, they might differ in their opinions in the
matter--and they therefore wisely determined to decide it by
referring to the lot. There have been, since, Christian men and women
who resort to the same method of avoiding contention; and with the
example of the Apostles before us, we can have no doubt that they are
justified in so doing. But--
+II. It prevents waste of material wealth.+ If the kings and great
men of the earth had resorted to this method if "causing contentions
to cease and parting between the mighty," how many homes and cities
would have escaped overthrow, how many a fruitful and prosperous
country would have been preserved from desolation, and how many a
princely fortune would have remained in the hands of its rightful
owners. God divided the land of Israel by lot, and if men had
generally been content to permit Him to divide the earth among them
in a similar manner, how much more rich and prosperous would they
have been.
+III. It prevents waste of human life.+ It would be indeed a blessing
if property was the most precious thing wasted in the contentions of
men. But, alas, disputes often lead to far more serious consequences,
and that life of man, which is at the best so limited, has been made
much shorter by the sword of his fellow-man. Sometimes family feuds
have led men to resort to this terrible method of settling disputes,
and men of the same parentage have fought till one shed the other's
blood. And sometimes it has been a nation that has contended with
another, and then not one has fallen a victim, but hundreds on both
sides. And when we think not only of the wounds thus inflicted, and
the lives thus cut off, but of the wounded hearts and darkened lives
of those who mourn them, we must allow that any means of ending
contention is better than permitting it to work its deadly work. And
the fact that the lot was used by Israel at the command of God, and
sanctioned by Him in the early history of the Christian Church, makes
it certain that if used in a right spirit it might still be employed
so as to be acceptable to Him.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
As the lot was had recourse to when causes were such as admitted not
of determination otherwise, there seems to be a natural enough
relation of suggestion between this verse and the preceding. In cases
where representations differed, and the evidence between them was
such as to leave it impossible to say certainly on which side was the
preponderance, or when the parties would not submit to arbitration,
or when they were too powerful to be safely meddled with, then "the
lot caused contentions to cease, and parted between the
mighty."--_Wardlaw._
There seems no Scriptural prohibition to the use of this ordinance,
provided it be exercised in a reverential dependence upon God, and
not profaned for common purposes or worldly ends. At the same time
the Word of God appears to be more fully recognised as the arbiter of
the Divine will. . . . Perhaps it is more easy to abide by the
decision of the lot than of the Word. The last requires more
self-denial, humility, and patience, and therefore is more
practically useful.--_Bridges._
He that hath commanded to cease from labour, hath much more commanded
to cease from strife. He that was pleased to make the Sabbath of
rest, is also pleased with those who make a Sabbath of peace. This is
a Sabbath altogether moral, never to be abrogated. Wherefore let
reason and indifferency hear the differences that are between any,
and if it can be done let them be reconciled. But if otherwise it
cannot be ordered then let a _lot_ be the compromiser of them. In
that there can be no partiality, and though itself cannot judge of
right, yet He that guides it is the most righteous Judge of the
world. If a lot have erred, it is when men's understanding should
have put things right, for God, having given power to men, He looks
that man should use it. But God so loveth peace, that, where men
cannot, He will do right, if that the lot refer unto His arbitrament.
Wherefore, when the mighty strive, and might of reason standeth on
both sides equally, being too strong for man to decide, let the
Almighty by His lot decide it.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 19.
CASTLE BARS.
The state of things treated in this verse reveals most conclusively
that man has fallen. Contention between any men is a plain proof that
there is some flaw in human nature, that the relations of human
creatures are not what they ought to be. If the disputants are men of
the same nation, their contention seems more unnatural than if they
belonged to different races, but when some of the same father--men
brought up at the knees of the same mother, are found in a state of
enmity, we have a very strong proof that the race is not what its
head was when he came fresh from the hand of his Creator. Such enmity
Solomon compares to the bars of a castle--
+I. Because it is hard to break through.+ The bars that guard the
outlet of a fortress are strong, and when the iron crowbar is applied
to them with a view of making an entrance, the weapon finds itself
resisted by a substance as unyielding as its own. The bars strike
against each other, but neither being more brittle than its
antagonist, no progress is made. It is no ordinary difference that
makes a ground of quarrel between brothers; there are so many ties to
be broken and so many motives of self-interest to bind them, that the
enmity must be deep to separate them at first, and being deep and
strong, it is not easily broken down.
+II. Because it is the only thing that separates them.+ Friends who
deeply love each other and are one in spirit sometimes find nothing
between them but a few bars--the iron grating of a dungeon may be all
that keeps them apart. But although it is only that, it is a very
real and terrible barrier. And a dispute between brethren is like
iron bars, dividing those who ought to be one more truly and sadly
than any prison door could separate them. They may be dwelling under
the same roof, and so have every opportunity of enjoying each other's
society and gladdening each other's life. But contention builds
around each one a more impregnable barrier than the highest walls of
the strongest fortress.
+III. That to subdue such enmity requires more wisdom and skill than
to take a city.+ There are several methods by which a city may be
won. It may be taken by superior physical force, it may be surprised
and captured, or its inhabitants may be starved into a surrender. But
it is not so easy to capture a human heart--an angry brother must be
subdued by different means, and by weapons which require more skilful
handling. No physical force can break down enmity of heart--even God
cannot reconcile men unto Himself by His physical omnipotence, but
wins them by love. And this is the only power which can win "a
brother offended." If he has been in the wrong we must approach him
with a free forgiveness, and if the wrong has been on our side we
must approach with submission and acknowledgement of our fault.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
"When a brother is revolted away, it is from a city of strength; and
contentions are like the bars of a citadel." The whole meaning is,
that one _"brother," "revolted_ away" from another, is _"revolted
from a city of strength,"_ that being what one is to all the rest. In
other words, brothers are a shelter to brothers, and quarrels lock up
that resort. . . . Notice, that a brother is not only a commoner
defence, but a "citadel;" and a "bar" to that keep shuts a man out of
his best earthly dependence. It is a fine adage, even for this
world . . . but when applied to our Great Brother, and to our God and
King, it is one of the noblest of inspired texts. He who offends our
Brother Prince shuts a high tower (Psa. xviii. 2). He who quarrels
with our Surety snaps to the lock of a citadel; and then, alas, it
shall be, just as the wild rush of embittered enemies should have
roused him to enter in.--_Miller._
The sweeter the wine the sharper the vinegar; accordingly, the
greater the love implanted by nature, the more bitter the hate when
this love is violated.--_Zeltner._
The _matter of fact_ is here stated--and there are natural enough
reasons to account for it. More is justly expected from a brother
than from a stranger--more of affection, gratitude, kindly treatment,
fidelity, and trustworthiness. When such expectations are
disappointed, the wound in the spirit is proportionately deeper, and
more difficult of healing--the breach wider, and harder of being made
up. Besides, the slower a person is to take offence--the longer he
forbears--the more he forgives--the more difficult it is fairly to
overcome the yearnings of affection, and break the bonds of
brotherhood--the more inveterate may the spirit of resentment be; the
more sullen and distant the alienation, when it is actually
produced.--_Warren._
Whether it be a brother by race, place, or grace; those oft that
loved most dearly, if once the devil cast his club between them, hate
most deadly. . . . As for brethren by profession, and that of the
true religion too, among Protestants, you shall meet with many
divisions, and those prosecuted with a great deal of bitterness. No
war breaks out sooner, or lasts longer, than that among divines, or
that about a sacrament; a sacrament of love, a communion, and yet the
occasion, by accident, of much dissension.--_Trapp._
The original word here used is a brother revolting or departing by
disloyalty; or else a brother offended by disloyal departing. For
such ought to be the command of love between brethren, that he that
breaks it is a disloyal rebel unto it. And surely they that need to
be firmly tied, because, being divided, they are so hardly joined.
For as that which being whole is most strongly united, being broken
is farthest from being made whole; and as a stick of hard wax, being
broken, may more easily be conjoined than a stick of hard wood, so
are the divisions of brethren more hardly composed than the
contentions of others.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 20 _and_ 21.
THE POWER OF THE LITTLE MEMBER.
Solomon again and again reverts to the mighty influences for good and
evil which flow from the use of the tongue--that "little member" upon
which such great issues often depend. He here notices--
+I. The power of words over the man who utters them.+ He declares
that the state of the inward man--its rest or unrest, its gladness or
its gloom--depends very much upon the use that is made of the tongue.
A little thought and observation will convince us that this is true.
Beginning with the familiar intercourse of every-day life, how true
it is that the utterance of kindly words of sympathy, and advice and
warning, have a tendency to make sunshine in the heart of him who
utters them, while censorious, hasty, harsh words embitter and darken
the spirit of their author. Going beyond these to utterances which
have a wider influence, the proverb is no less true. The painter that
has conceived a picture in his mind, and then, seeing it upon canvas,
thinks of the many eyes who will gaze upon it with interest, and of
those who perchance will be elevated and instructed by it, feels a
satisfaction in the thought that it owes its existence to him--that
without the working of his brain and hand it would not have been. "He
is filled with the increase" of his skilful hand. So the man whose
words are listened to and waited for by other men--whether he be the
skilful barrister, or the powerful statesman, or the preacher of the
Gospel, has a satisfaction in being able to put forth his conceptions
as to give to his fellow-men new ideas--to show them things in a
light in which they might never have seen them but for this power
which he possesses. He has joy in being the originator of fresh and
living thoughts, and in being able by clothing them in words to
impart them to others. But upon the moral quality of the "fruit of
his mouth" will depend the length and depth of his satisfaction. The
single power to influence men by speech will gratify for the
moment--but if the increase of the lips is to be an abiding source of
contentment there must be a consciousness that the power has been
used to benefit mankind in some way or other--that the skilful
pleading has been on the side of right, that the powerful logic has
been used to expose the false and to defend the true, or the
brilliant oratory has had for its aim the moral enlightenment and
strengthening of the listeners. If it be not so, the fruit of man's
mouth will be like the roll given to the apocalyptic seer, "in the
mouth as sweet as honey," but afterwards "bitter" (Rev. x. 10). How
sad must be the reflections of those who have possessed this
God-given power for good or ill when they have had to look back upon
its misuse.
+II. The power of words over those who hear them.+ The tongue in its
mighty influence is a king having the power of life and death. No
other member of the human body can lay claim to such wide-spread and
regal authority. The eye can influence men, but not so powerfully as
the tongue, nor can its influence reach so many at once. The hand can
strike down the body of a single foe, or two or three at once. But
the tongue can reach a thousand hearts at one time, and make men its
slaves, not in twos and threes but in masses. As it sways the
affections and takes a man's will captive, it wields the power of
life and death not over the body of the man but over the man himself.
The tongue of the tempter can drag its victims down, body and soul,
to hell, while the tongue which is touched with a living coal from
off the altar of God can be the means of persuading men to be
reconciled to their Heavenly Father, and so of making them partakers
of eternal life. Seeing, then, what issues of life and death are
dependent upon this king, it is manifest that men should keep him in
absolute control; if so much depends upon his action he ought to be
under the strictest supervision. If one member of the body politic,
by the position which he holds and the ability which he possesses, is
able to exercise a very powerful influence in the kingdom for weal or
for woe, men watch him narrowly and jealously to see how he uses his
power, and if they are anxious for the well-being of the State they
endeavour to restrain him when he is going wrong and stimulate him
when he is using his influence for the right. So ought every man to
watch and guard his own tongue; seeing that life, and death are in
its power, he ought to bring all his words to the bar of conscience
and try them there, severely condemning them if they have not been
such as would minister life to the hearers, and remembering that his
Master has said, _"By thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy
words thou shalt be condemned"_ (Matt. xii. 37).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
If a man were possessed of a field exceedingly productive, either of
good fruits or of noisome and poisonous herbs, according to the
cultivation bestowed on it, what pains would he use to clear it of
every weed, and to have it sown with good grain! and yet, when the
harvest is come, he may take his choice whether he will eat of the
product or not. Such a field is the tongue of man, with this
difference, that a man is obliged to eat the fruit of it, although it
should be worse than hemlock. What care, then, should we use to pluck
from our hearts every root of bitterness, and to have them furnished
with knowledge and prudence, that our discourse may be good, to the
use of edifying!--_Lawson._
There is a sense in which we may understand the language, even taking
the former clause of the twentieth verse _literally_--"A man's
_belly_ shall be satisfied with the fruit of his mouth." You may
smile and say, A man cannot live upon words! Very true. But the way
in which a man uses his lips and his tongue, as the organs of speech,
may contribute not a little to his getting, or his failing to get,
"the meat that perisheth." I mean not that any of you should, in the
slightest degree, try to work your way in life by words of flattery;
but when a man's general conversation is such as to procure for him a
character of discretion, courtesy, gratitude, straightforward
integrity, and trustworthiness, this may surely contribute, eminently
and directly, to the temporal sustenance and comfort of the man
himself and his family: while an opposite style of intercourse may
tend to penury and starvation. A man may, in various ways, make his
"lips" the instrument of either want on the one hand, or plenty on
the other.--_Wardlaw._
Our understanding of verse 20 is, that as the outward wants of a man
are satisfied by his daily acts, so he himself is, and that simply
_as_ his acts, or because of the intimate sympathy between the man
and what he does. This thought is still clearer in the verse that
follows:--"Death and life are in the power (literally the _hand_) of
the tongue." There can be no doubt that men's conduct (for tongue is
but the leading instrument of it) determines _death_ or _life,_ yet,
in spite of the adventurous hazard, their _love_ to it (or literally,
_just as they love this or that sort of tongue_), they shall eat its
fruit, and incur, of course, fearful responsibilities.--_Miller._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 22.
A TWOFOLD GOOD.
+I. Polygamy cannot be recommended by those who have practised it.+ A
thousand counterfeit coins, even if they pass as genuine for a time,
are nothing worth in comparison with one real golden sovereign. Both
may bear the image and superscription of the king, but the one is an
insult to the name it bears while the other has a right to be
imprinted with the royal name. The author of this proverb was a
polygamist--his great experience qualified him to give an opinion
upon the subject--but we do not here find him dwelling upon the
satisfaction of the harem, but upon the blessedness of a _wife._ He
was fully conscious of the fact that a real partner of his life--one
woman to be a help-meet for him according to the Divine
intention--would have added much more to his real welfare than the
thousand counterfeits to whom it was an insult to God to give the
name of wives. More than once he bears testimony to the blessedness
of marriage in the true sense of the word, but we never find him
praising the practice which was so great a curse to his own life. In
this proverb he indirectly condemns himself and warns others by his
own example. A vessel that has gone to pieces upon the rocks may
still be used to prevent others from sharing her fate. The broken
timbers may serve to light a beacon fire which may warn other vessels
to take another course. Polygamy was the rock upon which Solomon
shipwrecked his social happiness and much more (1 Kings xi. 3), and
he seems here and elsewhere to warn his descendants not to follow in
his footsteps in this respect and conform to the custom of the
heathen monarchs by whom they were surrounded.
+II. Monogamy brings a double portion--a good thing and the Divine
favour.+ The favour of a good parent is a thing prized highly by a
dutiful child, and enhances the value of every other blessing. The
favour of a good king is in itself a fortune which few men would
despise. The favour of God is a fortune for a period which extends
beyond that named in the marriage vow, it is a fortune which no
creature can afford to despise, and a blessing which those who know
Him prize before all things in earth or heaven. When a man enters
into the marriage relation according to the Divine intention--making
a woman his wife in the true sense of the word--he not only adds to
his own comfort and consults his own interest, but he does that which
is pleasing to God--he takes a step upon which he can fearlessly ask
for the Divine blessing.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
"Findeth" implies the _rarity_ of the thing obtained (Eccles.
vii. 27, 28), and the need of circumspection in the search. Blind
passion is not to make the selection at random.--_Fausset._
The married who is truly Christian knows that, even though sometimes
things are badly matched, still his marriage relation is well
pleasing to God as His creation and ordinance, and what he therein
does or endures, passes as done or suffered for God.--_Luther._
There is a secular and a spiritual in every proverb. These two are
not apart, but flow easily into each other. Secularly, a wife is the
highest treasure. It is a vapid distinction to say a good wife, and
the Bible many a time hurries on without any such distinction (comp.
ch. iv. 3). A bad "wife" is no _"wife"_ at all. A wife is the holiest
of all relations; in the world the most powerful for good. . . . A
good marriage is a means of grace, . . . of course any relation that
is near and potent is covered by the passage.--_Miller._
I shall always endeavour to make choice of such a woman for my spouse
who hath first made choice of Christ as a spouse for herself; that
none may be made one flesh with me who is not made one spirit with
Christ my Saviour. For I look upon the image of Christ as the best
mark of beauty I can behold in her, and the grace of God as the best
portion I can receive with her.--_Bp. Reynolds._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 23.
THE RICH AND POOR.
This proverb treats of a twofold aspect of human life which furnishes
a strong proof of the fallen condition of human nature. There is,
probably, no part of this earth--teeming although it is with riches
enough to satisfy the needs of every living thing--in which those are
not to be found who have to struggle hard for their daily bread, and
who even then come off with but a scanty share. Poverty seems as
universal as disease and death, and must be referred to the same
source. For those who know anything of the character of God, know
that it was not a part of his original intention that men should be
placed in such circumstances; and when they look abroad upon their
fellow-creatures, they see that all the poverty of the poor can be
traced to wrong-doing on the part of men--to the selfishness of some,
and to the indolence and vice of others. It is quite certain that,
when God's will is done on earth as it is in heaven, the miserable
poverty which now surrounds us on every side will cease to exist.
Solomon here sets forth--
+I. One of the many evils of poverty.+ He has before mentioned some
of its advantages (see chap. xiii. 8, page 300), but the evil of the
text is a very real and common one. A poor man has not only a very
small share of the material comforts of life, but even for these he
is often compelled to sue as for a favour. Even if he is an honest
and able man, he may be so dependent upon the caprices of the wealthy
as to have to entreat their help and patronage before he can use his
powers to his own advantage. Such a state of things is often felt to
be hard and is undoubtedly so, and unless a poor man is noble and
self-respecting, it has a tendency to make him cringing and
servile--to dispose him to barter his conscience and his rights in
order to satisfy his bodily needs. We know there have been many noble
exceptions to this rule--that there have been hundreds of poor men
who have preferred starvation to a forfeiture of any part of their
God-given inheritance--but the temptation of the poor man in this
direction is often very strong by reason of his great necessity.
+II. One of the many temptations of wealth.+ It would be a difficult
matter, and perhaps an impossible one, to enumerate all the
respective moral advantages of poverty and riches, and strike the
true balance between them. There can be no doubt that each has its
peculiar temptations (see chap. xxx. 7-9), and that one of the sins
to which the rich man is most liable is that of inconsiderateness of
the claims of his poor brother, and even of insolence towards him. It
is a universal tendency of fallen humanity to look exclusively on his
own things and not on the things of others, and the wealth of the
rich man enables him to indulge this tendency to its utmost. And men
are prone to go even beyond this--the children of the same common
Father often take delight in making their poor brethren feel their
dependence on them, and instead of giving sympathy and help freely
and after a brotherly fashion, they withhold the first entirely, and
if they give the latter they do it coldly and even contemptuously.
That this is by no means the rule we have many proofs, but that the
tendency is strong we know not only from observation but from the
frequent warnings against it in the Word of God. The Apostle James
charges even the professed followers of Christ with having "despised
the poor" (Jas. ii. 6).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The angels smile at the way the sinner cavils. He reverses what the
proverb pronounces natural. For He who is supremely _rich_ is meek
and tender, and he who is profoundly poor is loud in his
reproach!--_Miller._
The languages of several countries are not so different as of the
poor and rich man in one and the same country, and a stranger of
another land is not such a foreigner as in the same land a poor man
standing at the door of the rich. The one when he speaketh is not
understood by the ear, the other when he speaketh is not understood
by the heart: the words of the one are not apprehended, the wants of
the other are not apprehended; the one is heard, but not conceived;
the other is conceived, but not heard. When two talk in diverse
languages they are known to be men of diverse countries; but when the
poor and rich talk together, so different is their speech that one
would hardly think them to be both men, and of the same nature. The
one speaks as if he had hardly breath to bring forth his words, the
other speaketh with such a strong breath that the harshness of it
giveth an ill scent a great way off.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 24.
THE OBLIGATIONS OF FRIENDSHIP.
It will be seen from the Critical Notes that most modern critics
translate the first clause of this verse very differently from the
rendering in our Bibles. Some expositors, however, adhere to the old
translation, and we therefore look at it--
+I. As expressing a need of human nature.+ It matters not in which
condition man is found, whether in riches or in poverty, whether
ignorant and rude or highly civilized and educated, he needs the
friendship of one or more of his fellow creatures. The special
good-will of some who can feel with him and for him in all the
vicissitudes of life is indispensable to his happiness. Among all the
gifts which an Almighty Father has given to His children, there is
perhaps none, after His Own gracious favour, which is so necessary
to their welfare or is so productive of joy as this gift of
friendship. Men cannot live a life of isolation and know anything of
the enjoyment of life. We cannot conceive of even perfect creatures
living such a life--we know the angels and redeemed saints derive
much of their bliss from the friendship of each other, and how much
more does man in his present imperfect state need it. And the need
can be supplied even in this selfish world. Men have been, and still
are, able to find among their fellows those who are worthy of the
name of friend. True it is that there is much that is called
friendship that is unworthy of the name, but as we do not reject the
real coin because there are base imitations of it, so we must not
permit the counterfeit of friendship to shake our confidence in the
real thing.
+II. As setting forth an indispensable condition of making and
keeping friends.+ If a man desires to know the sweets of real
friendship he must be prepared to be himself a real friend. The
selfish and morose man who will not deny himself for another's good,
or who cannot rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who
weep, cannot expect others to deny themselves for him and to
sympathise with his joy and sorrow. If there is to be a genuine
friendship there must be mutual confidence and a mutual recognition
of excellencies, for if the trust and admiration is on one side only
the fire will soon burn out for want of fuel. There are men whose
love cannot be extinguished by coldness and distrust, but they are
few and far between, and the wise man's words hold good as a general
rule that "a man that hath friends must show himself friendly." (The
latter clause of this verse was treated in Homiletics on chap.
xvii. 17-18, page 518.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
_A man of friends is apt to be broken all to pieces._ (This is
Miller's rendering only.) The significance of the whole is that a man
of _wide acquaintance_ is apt to _break._ Human friendships cost. In
the strife to appear well, in the time it takes, in the industries
they scatter, in the hospitalities they provoke, and in the
securityships they engender, broadening our socialities will try
every one of us well. It is not so with heavenly friendships. All
spiritual communisms bless.--_Miller._
Solomon delivers a warning against the vainglorious passion of
aspiring to an universal acquaintance and an empty popularity, such
as was courted by his brother Absalom, which will bring with it no
support in adversity, but will ruin a man by pride and rashness and
prodigal expenditure.--_Wordsworth._
SUMMARY OF THE CHAPTER.--That the chapter before us treats mainly of
the virtues of social life, of sociability, affability, love of
friends, compassion, etc., appears not merely from its initial and
closing sentences, the first of which is directed against
misanthropic selfishness, the latter against thoughtless and
inconstant universal friendship, or seeming friendship, but also from
the various rebukes which it contains of a contentious, quarrelsome,
and partisan disposition, _e.g.,_ verses 5, 6, 8, 17-21. But in
addition, most of the propositions that seem to be more remote may be
brought under this general category of love to neighbours as the sum
and basis of all social virtues; so especially the testimonies
against wild, foolish talking (verses 2, 7, 13, comp. 4 and 15); that
against bold impiety, proud dispositions and hardness of heart
against the poor (vers. 3, 12, 23); that against slothfulness in the
duties of one's calling, foolish confidence in earthly riches, and
want of true moral courage and confidence in God (vers. 9-11; comp.
14). Nay, even the commendation of a large liberality as a means of
gaining for one's self favour and influence in human society (ver.
16), and likewise the praise of an excellent mistress of a family,
are quite closely connected with this main subject of the chapter,
which admonishes to love towards one's fellow-men; they only show the
many-sided completeness with which the theme is here
treated.--_Lange's Commentary._
* * * * * *