CRITICAL NOTES.--+1. When thou sittest,+ etc. Miller here translates
_"Forasmuch as thou sittest,"_ and applying the word _ruler_ to God
gives to the proverb a meaning entirely different from that generally
attached to it. See his remarks in the Suggestive Comments. +What is
before thee?+ Rather _"Who is before,"_ etc. +2. Put a knife,+ etc.
Zöckler, Ewald, and others translate, _"Thou hast put,"_ or _"thou
puttest."_ The meaning may then be "Thou hast virtually destroyed
thyself if thou art a self-indulgent man." Delitzsch, however, gives
the verb the imperative form, as in the English version.
+3. Deceitful meat.+ Literally "Bread of lies." Many commentators
understand this to mean a deceptive meal, which is not given from
motives of hospitality. +5. Wilt thou set thine eyes?+ etc. Rather
_"Wilt thou look eagerly after it, and it is gone?"_ +6. Him that
hath an evil eye+--_i.e.,_ the jealous man. +11. Their Redeemer.+
Their _Goel,_ or Avenger. In the Hebrew law this word is applied to
the nearest kinsman. (See Ruth iii. 12.) +17. Let not thine heart
envy,+ etc. The verb translated _envy_ refers to both objects in the
verse, and is better translated _"strive after."_ Miller renders it
_"be aglow."_ "It is," he says, "a verb expressive of all emotion."
(See Numb. xxv. 11-13.) +18. Surely there is an end.+ Delitzsch here
reads, _"Truly there is a future."_ "The root of the Hebrew," says
Miller, signifies _afterward._ +20. Eaters of flesh.+ This may be
translated _"Devourers of their own flesh"--i.e._, those who destroy
their bodies by sensual indulgence. +23.+ The word _also_ should be
omitted in this verse. The three nouns in the second clause stand in
apposition to the one in the first. +Instruction,+ rather
_"discipline."_ +25.+ This verse should be, _"Let thy father and thy
mother be glad, and her that have thee rejoice."_ +26. Observe,+
rather _delight._ +28. As for a prey,+ Delitzsch and Zöckler here
translate _"like a robber."_ +Transgressors,+ rather _"the
faithless."_ +30. Mixed wine--+_i.e.,_ wine mixed with strong spices.
+31. When it giveth his colour,+ etc., literally, "When it showeth
its eye." This may refer to its _brightness,_ or to the _head,_ or
_pearl_ of the wine. +"When it moveth itself,"+ etc., rather _"when
it glideth down with ease."_ +33. Strange women,+ rather _"strange
things."_
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.--Verses_ 1-3.
THE TEMPTATIONS OF THE TABLE.
+I. The table of a wealthy man is a place of temptation to the sin of
overindulgence.+ At such a table there is a great variety of dishes,
and the human appetite, in common with every bodily sense and mental
faculty, delights in variety. The eye is best pleased with a
diversified landscape, the ear with a diversity of sound, and the
mind when it can vary the objects of its contemplation. So man's
appetite is most gratified by a variety of food, and there is much
more temptation to excess under such circumstances than when his
hunger has to be satisfied from a single dish. Then, again, the food
at such a repast is generally of the most tempting kind--all the
countries of the world are put under contribution to supply it with
dainties, and much skill and time is expended upon the preparation of
the food. There is little danger of eating too much when bread is the
only fare, but it begins and increases in proportion to the palatable
nature of the viands. And the proverb seems to be addressed to those
to whom a seat at the rich man's or ruler's table was not an
every-day occurrence--to those to whom it was not given to feast so
sumptuously every day--and this would increase the force of the
temptation. The variety and the rarity of the dishes is much more
tempting to one unaccustomed to such feasts.
+II. It is most degrading and injurious to yield to such a
temptation.+ This is implied in the strong metaphor which Solomon
uses. An undue indulgence in the pleasures of the table, even when it
does not amount to positive gluttony, is a most fruitful source of
disease, and for this cause, if for no other, dainty food well
deserves the name which is here given to it. But it is also most
injurious to man's better nature; it is often the first step to
habits of intemperance and licentiousness, but if it does not lead to
them it is altogether incompatible with intellectual and moral
excellence. A man who is not master of his appetite is below the
brute and can be neither great nor good. It is well to remember that
an _appeal to the appetite_ was one of the elements in the first
temptation. An Eastern fable runs thus: "A king once permitted the
devil to kiss him on either shoulder. Immediately two serpents grew
from his shoulders, which, furious with hunger, attacked his head and
attempted to get at his brain. The king tore them away. But he soon
saw with horror that they had become part of himself, and that, in
wounding them he was lacerating his own flesh." Such is the
deplorable condition of every victim of appetite and lust.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
First, thy duty is to be temperate as to the _quantity_ of thy
diet. . . . God gave man food to further, not to hinder him in his
general and particular calling, and surely they sin who feed till,
like fatted horses, they are unfit for service. . . . Christians may
cheer nature, but they must not clog it. It is a great privilege in
the charter granted us by the King of Kings, that we should have
dominion over the creatures; but it will be a sordid bondage if we
suffer them to have dominion over us. Socrates was wont to say, that
evil men live that they may eat and drink, but good men eat and drink
that they may live. . . . Secondly, thy duty is to be temperate as to
the _quality_ of thy diet. Though no certain quality of food can be
set down, yet in general this must be observed, that we make not
provision for the flesh (Rom. xiii. 12). We may preserve the flesh,
but we must not provide for the flesh. Our enemy is strong enough
already, we need not put more weapons into his hands. . . . The
Christian may take his food, but his food must not take him. . . . It
is not unlawful to eat dainties, but it is unlawful to set the mind
upon them. . . . We may eat and digest dainties, but we may not crave
and desire dainties. God made man not for fleshly dainties, but for
spiritual delights. . . . Elijah could be content with a raven for
his cook. Daniel fed and thrived upon pulse: he looked fairer by it
than those that did eat the king's fare. Brown bread and the gospel
are good cheer, said the martyr. John the Baptist could live upon
locusts and wild honey. The apostles had some ears of corn for a
Sabbath-day's dinner. Though God is pleased out of mercy to afford us
better provision, yet our work must be to mind
moderation.--_Swinnock._
It is of the Lord that hunger is painful and food gives pleasure;
between these two lines of defence the Creator has placed life with a
view to its preservation. The due sustenance of the body is the
Creator's end; the pleasantness of food is the means of obtaining it.
When men prosecute and cultivate that pleasure as an end, they thwart
the very purpose of Providence.--_Arnot._
(It will be seen that the following comment is based on Miller's
rendering. See Critical Notes.) Kings like to see their guests eat.
At the very utmost, this part of our behaviour is a matter of
indifference. But of God nothing could be more exact. We see all
eating with Him; in fact, feeding upon Him, as though He were Himself
bread. _"Forasmuch,"_ therefore is just in place. _"Discerning well
who is before thee,"_ that also, is perfectly consistent. And then
our sin, what is that? Why, fleshly appetite! What is innocent at
courts is idolatry in the banquet to the skies. . . . Serving the
creature more than the Creator, Paul expresses it; and gives us ample
analogy after a New Testament kind (Rom. i. 25, see also James
iv. 3), for understanding, how we _have put a knife to our throat, if
we be men given to appetite.--Miller._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 4 _and_ 5.
THE DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES.
In order to get the true meaning of this proverb it is necessary to
define what Solomon understands by labouring to be rich. We call the
possessor of vast estates or a large account at the bank a rich man,
and so he is, if he lives within his income, paying his way and
having a surplus to bestow upon the needy. But so is the village
smith, who with less than a hundredth part of the income of the
nobleman or merchant prince "looks the whole world in the face and
owes not any man." Riches and poverty are but relative terms, and
when we consider how indispensable it is that some men should possess
more than a mere sufficiency for their personal needs, we may be sure
that the wise man did not mean to discourage all effort to gain even
more than enough for our daily needs. But the _labour_ which is here
forbidden is evidently that all-absorbing pursuit of wealth which
engrosses the entire man to the exclusion of higher claims. When men
make gold their god instead of their servant it is obvious that the
boundary line of lawful pursuit is passed, and that deprecated in the
proverb is entered upon. The text--
+I. Condemns all following after wealth under the inspiration of the
natural heart.+ Man's _"own wisdom"_ is an insufficient and dangerous
guide in this matter as in all others. The unrenewed heart of man is
selfish and sordid, prone to think only of its own desires and to set
up a false standard of happiness. Only the wisdom that cometh from
above can show men what is worth striving after, what will really
bless the present and afford satisfaction in the future. If a man
buys and sells and gets gain with a constant reference to the will of
God, and in dependence upon Him, he will not _labour_ to be rich--in
other words, he will, with Paul, _learn in whatever state he is to be
content,_ and will know how to fulfil the duties which come with
abundance and how to exhibit the graces which can only be manifested
in poverty.
+II. Teaches that only those who do not trust in riches can really
enjoy their possession, or escape bitter sorrow in their loss.+ Every
rich man knows that it is possible that his wealth may leave him, and
that it is certain that he must leave his wealth. The uncertainty of
retaining them through life, and the certainty of losing them at
death, are two thorns which must be found in the pillow of everyone
who makes riches the chief good of his existence, and must surely
deprive him of any heartfelt satisfaction from their possession. The
soul of man is made for something higher and more lasting than any
earthly good, and of all that men call good, and esteem precious,
there is nothing which has less to satisfy the cravings of the soul
than mere material wealth, or that is more easily and quickly lost.
The only way, therefore, to get any present satisfaction in it, and
to ensure oneself against future disappointment from it, is to follow
the Apostolic injunction, and _"trust not in uncertain riches, but in
the living God"_ (1 Tim. vi. 17).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Not like a tame bird, that returns; nor like a hawk, that will show
where she is by her bells; but like an eagle, whose wings thou canst
neither clip nor pinion. All their certainty is in their uncertainty,
and they are only stable in this, that they cannot be stable. . . .
Wealth is like a bird; it hops all day from man to man, as that doth
from tree to tree; and none can say where it will roost or rest at
night. It is like a vagrant fellow, which, because he is big-boned,
and able to work, a man taketh in a-doors, and cherisheth; and
perhaps for a while he takes pains; but when he espies opportunity
the fugitive servant is gone, and takes away more with him than all
his service came to.--_T. Adams._
What a startling interdict this! What an immense proportion of the
world's toil, and especially in such a community as our own, does it
bring under condemnation and proscription! Were all the labour
directed to this forbidden end to cease,--How little would be
left!--what a sudden stagnation would there be of the turmoil of busy
activity with which we are daily surrounded! What are the great
majority of men about,--in our city and in our country? What keeps
them all astir? What is the prevailing impulse of all the incessant
bustle and eager competition of our teeming population? Are not
all,--with a wider or narrower estimate of what riches
mean,--"labouring to be _rich?_"--The love of fame has been called
the universal passion. Is not the love of money quite as much, if not
more, entitled to the designation? Yes; and many a time does the
_wisdom_ of the world set itself to the defence of the world's toil
and the world's aim--alleging many plausible, and some more than
plausible, things in its pleadings. "Riches," say they, "keep a man
and his family from dependence. Riches enable a man to enjoy many
comforts that are in themselves lawful and desirable. Riches procure
a man distinction and influence in society. By this and other means,
riches put it in a man's power to do good:--why should we not 'labour
to be rich?'" It is all true; and the plea is in part quite
legitimate. Yet Solomon, by the Spirit, with the authority, and in
the kindness of God, enjoins--"labour _not_ to be rich."--_Wardlaw._
It were a most strange folly to fall passionately in love with a bird
upon the wing. . . . How much better were it, since riches will fly,
for thyself to direct their flight towards heaven, by relieving the
necessitous servants and members of Jesus Christ.--_Bishop Hopkins._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.--Verses_ 6-8.
FEIGNED GENEROSITY.
+I. Men's inward life and feelings are often directly opposed to
their outward life and actions.+ A man is here pictured as
manifesting a large hospitality. His board is laden with dainty meats
and surrounded with guests whom he presses to eat and drink with such
an appearance of goodwill that it seems ungenerous to suspect him of
insincerity. But words and even deeds do not always proclaim the man.
"As he thinketh in his heart, so is he;" and this man's thoughts give
the lie to his actions. He gives of his good things from no desire to
cheer and relieve those who are poorer than himself, or to cement the
bonds of friendship with his equals, but for some unworthy, and, it
may be, from some base motive. He puts on for the time the garment of
benevolence, but he is a "wolf in sheep's clothing," and will not
hesitate to throw off his disguise, if the selfish ends which he has
in view demand it. It is painful for us to be obliged to admit the
truthfulness of the portrait here sketched by the Wise Man, but we
know that it is not an exaggerated one.
+II. Those who encourage such hypocrisy will meet with a
well-deserved punishment.+ It is taken for granted, and it is
undoubtedly true, that there is a false gloss upon such feigned
generosity which makes it easy to distinguish from the real thing.
And, if we accept the hospitality of such a man knowing it to be a
deception, we too practise hypocrisy, and thus become a partaker of
his evil deeds. Such a man is guilty of two heinous sins, he is first
a covetous and self-seeking sinner and then he is a gross hypocrite.
The covetous man is according to the Inspired Book an idolator (Col.
iii. 5), and our Lord when on earth could endure without anger all
contradiction of sinners against Himself (Heb. xii. 3) except
hypocrisy. This always set His holy nature on fire with indignation
and called forth the only Woes that ever passed His lips. It was
forbidden to the apostolic churches to sit at the table of any man
who, "calling himself a _brother,_" was yet _"covetous or an
idolator"_ (1 Cor. v. 11). For such a man was under a far deeper
condemnation than one who openly manifested his real character,
seeing that he added to his other sins that of professing to be what
he was not, and to _eat_ with such a man was not only to countenance
his covetousness and idolatry but to share his hypocrisy. The Old
Testament preacher here issues the same prohibition and obviously for
the same reasons, and if men disregard them they fully deserve the
negative and the positive punishment with which they are here
threatened. All the friendly words which they utter to save
appearances and to further selfish interests, and which convict
_them_ in _their_ turn of hypocrisy, will be _"lost,"_ and bitter
regret and self-condemnation will be their final portion.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The injunction, or dissuasion, I need not surely say, is by no means
intended to give any license or encouragement to a spirit of pride or
disdain. No. It is only a salutary warning to be cautious of bringing
yourselves under obligation to any selfish and hypocritical
dissembler of kindness, who only wishes to lay you under such
obligation to serve purposes of his own. The man who has thus
entertained you will boast of his hospitality; tell others of it,
making the most of it for his own behoof; set it down against you,
debiting you on account of it with certain expected good turns at
your hand, when he comes to need them. He will throw it up _to_ you,
should you not do all he looks for; or rail _at_ you to others for
ingratitude and meanness in forgetting his kindness. He will remind
you of it again and again, with vexatious importunity,--teazing you
for your favour and influence in some object he has in view for
himself or his family. It is amazing what an amount of expectation a
man of this sordid and selfish disposition will found upon _a
dinner!_ Your having sat at _his_ table, eaten of _his_ dainties, and
drunk of _his_ wines, is price enough even for your conscience
itself. Beware of him. Keep yourself free.--_Wardlaw._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 9.
THE MORALLY INCURABLE.
+I. A man may become morally incurable by human instructors.+ There
are cases of bodily disease which it would be quite useless for the
most skilful physician to attempt to cure; such an attempt would only
be a throwing away of time and energy on his part which might be
usefully employed upon another patient. And so there is at least one
form of moral disease which is beyond the reach of human effort. It
is that of the man who scoffs at everything, and upon whom,
therefore, the most affectionate entreaties and the most solemn
warnings are thrown away.
+II. To offer to such an incurable fool the wisdom of God is to break
a Divine commandment.+ The Redeemer Himself, under the Gospel
dispensation, issued such a prohibition. Even among the beneficent
utterances of the Sermon on the Mount comes the command, _"Give not
that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before
swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and
rend you"_ (Matt. vii. 6). Although Christ and His disciples were
sent forth to proclaim the Gospel message among men who, on account
of their bitter animosity to Him and to His teachings were compared
to _"wolves"_ (Luke x. 3), there were others in a far more hopeless
condition before whom they were forbidden to place the great truths
of the kingdom of God, and they were such characters as the fool of
this proverb, who would have _"despised the wisdom of their words."_
The deep import of the words of Solomon are fully seen when we
consider the even more startling utterance of Him who loved and died
for all men.
+III. There is a Divine compassion for the sinner in this
commandment.+ To offer to such a man what he would scoff at, would be
to give him an occasion of increasing his own guilt by a new refusal
of Divine truth. Mercy, therefore, is mingled with the stern judgment
of the prohibition.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
We often speak of retribution as if it always lay beyond the grave,
and the day of grace as extending through the whole life of man; but
such is not the fact. Retribution begins with many men here. The day
of grace terminates with many men before the day of death. There are
those who reach an unconvertible state, their characters are
stereotyped and fixed as eternity. The things that belong to their
peace are hid from their eyes. They are incorrigible. Such is the
character referred to in the text.--_Dr. David Thomas._
Those that are reproved by ministers, and Christian friends may learn
from this verse that they have no reason to take it amiss, or to
think that they are treated with contempt. They are considered as
offenders, but at the same time as offending brethren, who are not
incurably perverse. They would be treated in a very different way,
and might reckon themselves with more justice to be considered in the
light of scorners, and dogs, and swine if there were no means used to
recover them to repentance.--_Lawson._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 10 _and_ 11.
THE RIGHTS OF PRIVATE PROPERTY.
+I. In the community formed under Divine direction there was a
possession of personal and private property.+ When the land of Canaan
was first divided among the tribes, it was evident that each family
had its respective allotment, the boundaries of which were clearly
defined (See Duet. xix. 14, etc.) Each head of a family became,
therefore, a possessor of property, to which no other person, not
even the king in the days of the monarchy, had a right. (See 1 Kings
xxi. 1-3.) The kingdom, therefore, formed under direct Divine
supervision, was not governed on communistic principles; each man had
his own inheritance, which became more or less valuable according to
the industry and skill expended upon it. Social inequalities must
have resulted from this arrangement, which were prevented from
becoming too great by the arrangements connected with the year of
jubilee, but which within certain limits were evidently not regarded
by God as opposed to the welfare of His chosen people. We may infer,
then, that the idea that it would be better for mankind if all things
were possessed in common--if no man had anything which he could call
his own--is not a Divine idea, and is a mistaken one.
+II. Those who are too helpless to protect their own rights are
especially under the protection of God.+ The depravity of human
nature is seen in the almost universal tendency displayed by the
strong to forget the claims of the weak; but when this tendency is
carried to the length of wronging the widow and the fatherless, it
seems as if a man had sunk to the lowest depths of moral degradation.
Yet there were such specimens of fallen humanity in the commonwealth
established and governed by God Himself, as there are in nominally
Christian England. But, from the earliest days of Jewish history, God
declared Himself to be the Guardian of the widow and the fatherless,
and the field which was their inheritance might have been well called
_God's Acre,_ from which all intruders were warned off by Divine
command and threatening. This is a truth which it may be well for all
those to lay to heart which hold property in trust for such dependent
ones, or who have any other responsibility in relation to them. It is
surely a comforting thought for the fatherless themselves that the
place of the earthly parent is taken by One whose power as much
exceeds all human power as His love goes beyond all human love.
_ILLUSTRATION._
The state of Palestine with regard to enclosures is very much the
same now as it has always been. Though gardens and vineyards are
surrounded by dry stone walls or hedges of prickly pear, the
boundaries of arable fields are marked by nothing but a little
trench, a small cairn, or a single erect stone placed at certain
intervals. It is manifest that a dishonest person could easily fill
the gutter with earth, or remove these stones a few feet without much
risk of detection and thus enlarge his own field by a stealthy
encroachment on his neighbour's.--_Dr. Jamieson._
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The words in the first clause of the verse have been sometimes
applied in a very different department--even to the danger and the
criminality of intermeddling with old and long established articles
of doctrine in religion, and principles and statutes of civil
polity. . . . It is clear, however, that there can be no period of
prescription for truth,--or rather for falsehood,--no length of time,
that is, by which error that has passed for truth can become anything
else than error. No time can transmute wrong into right. Changes, no
doubt, should be made with caution. The longer anything has been
received as a truth, the improbability of its being found an error
becomes ever the greater. But if any dogma in any human system of
Christian doctrine is proved, from a full and careful investigation
of the Word of God, to have been set down and held as a truth by
mistake,--it would be a most strange and mischievous attachment to
antiquity for its own sake, that would resist its being expunged and
the truth discovered substituted in its room. Never must we forget,
that the most ancient landmarks of truth and duty are those which
have been fixed _here_--in the Bible--by the hands of prophets,
apostles, and evangelists, under the immediate direction of the
"Spirit of the Lord." There are none so old as these. From the Bible
human standards have been formed. _Their_ landmarks profess to be in
agreement, in the bounding lines of truth and error marked out by
them, with those which are set down there. But when, on a careful
survey, any of them are found to have been misplaced, and to bring
any part of the region of error within the boundary of the territory
of truth,--their removal becomes a duty of imperative
obligation.--_Wardlaw._
The word for _redeemer_ signifies the man who was _"next of kin,"_
the _kinsman_ on whom, by the law of Moses, it was incumbent as a
matter of duty, and with whom too it was a matter of interest, to
look after the concerns of his poor relations; with whom lay indeed
the avenging of their blood, if in any case, their life should, in
cruel selfishness, be taken away. It was on the principle of that
statute that Boaz called upon the next of kin to come forward and
redeem the inheritance of Elimelech at the hand of Naomi, and that,
upon his hearing the conditions and declining, he did it himself. Now
he who happened to be the _redeeming kinsman_ might himself be poor,
and powerless, and without either means or influence. But they should
not, on that account, be unprotected and unbefriended. Jehovah
Himself would take the place of their kinsman--would _"plead their
cause,"_ would maintain their rights, would redress their wrongs,
would bring His power to bear against their oppressors. _He_ would
fulfill for them the part of their near relation: and he is
_"mighty."_ Hear His words:--"Ye shall not afflict any widow, or
fatherless child. If thou afflict them in any wise, I will surely
hear their cry; and my wrath shall wax hot, and I will kill you with
the sword; and your wives shall be widows, and your children
fatherless" (Exod. xxii. 22-24). These, you may think, are Old
Testament threatenings, belonging to a judicial law that has passed
away; or, more properly, they belong to the special _theocracy,_
inasmuch as they do not prescribe any punishment to be inflicted by
the hand of man, but announce what Jehovah himself would, by his own
interposition, execute. Be it so. But think you that the character of
God has changed? Such assurances and threatenings are not mere
warnings of punishment; they are _expressions of character.--Wardlaw._
Adored be the unsearchable pity, grace, and condescension of
Emmanuel! When He could not redeem us as God, He became our kinsman,
that He might be our Redeemer! (Heb. ii. 14-16).--_Bridges._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.--Verses_ 12-28.
PARENTAL DUTIES AND PARENTAL JOYS.
This paragraph contains no subject upon which Solomon has not dwelt
before, but their repetition shows the great importance which he
attached to them.
+I. He repeats the truth that corporal punishment is a necessary and
salutary element of parental training.+ (see Homiletics on chap.
xiii. 24, page 234, and on chap. xix. 18, page 573.)
+II. He shows by example that appeals are also to be made to the
higher and better nature of the child.+ Although the rod is to have
its place, it is not to be the only force employed--a child is a
reasoning and loving creature, and that training will miserably fail
which does not take this fact into account. And in proportion as the
child grows in years will the rod become less needful and effectual,
and wise warning and loving entreaty will take its place. He is here
besought to "give his heart to wisdom" and to live "in the fear of
Jehovah"--1. _Because of the exceeding joy that he will bring to his
parents._ (See verses 15, 24, and 25.) This is a thought that cannot
fail to have weight with any son or daughter of good parents who is
capable of grateful emotion. The consideration of the tender love and
the unwearying patience that have surrounded them from their birth,
and of the power that now lies in their hand to requite that long
ministry of tenderness and long suffering, ought to be a powerful
motive to dissuade from the evil path and allure into the good way.
And it has been and ever will be, for many a child of godly parents
has been kept in the hour of temptation by the remembrance of his
father or his mother, even when he has not thought upon his God. (See
also Homiletics on chap. x. 1, page 137.) 2. _Because of the temporal
ruin of an opposite course._ (See verses 21, 27, and 28.) All these
subjects have been considered before. (See Homiletics on chap.
xxi. 17, page 609, and on chap. vi. 6-11, page 79, and on chap.
vi. 24, page 89.) 3. _Because of the rewards and punishments of the
life to come._ (See verse 18.) This verse (see Critical Notes)
undoubtedly refers to the day of death and to the life beyond it, as
do also chaps. xi. 7, and xiv. 32. (See Homiletics on pages 201 and
391.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Verse 13. The command is framed upon a supposition that parents often
fail on the side of tenderness; the word is given to nerve them for a
difficult duty. There is no ambiguity in the precept; both the need
of correction, and the tremendous issues that depend on it, are
expressed with thrilling precision of language.--_Arnot._
Verses 15, 16. Now the proverb personates the father, and, instead of
a roundabout speech, utters the temper that should inspire the
beating. There will be no good unless the father shows the son that
it will be his highest joy, if the son learns wisdom. If thou be
really _"wise."_ That is the caution of the first clause. If it be no
sham thing, but an affair of the _"heart;"_ then _"my heart shall
rejoice,"_ down in the same depths. And then, as men are great
actors, and may _look_ virtue as they whip a child, when they do not
feel it much, Solomon protests that it must be real. Each part of
this sentence must be meant. Not,--Thou must be a good citizen, or a
clever worker, or a moral actor, or a good gratifying son; but the
boy must see, (and he surely will see it, if it is felt), that the
yearning is that he become _wise in heart, i.e.,_ a good earnest
Christian, and then on the other hand, that down in the same depths,
not with outward expressions of pleasure, but in your very heart--not
in your made-up heart, which you keep to show to others, but _in your
very self_--the proverb echoes your feeling, _"My heart shall
rejoice, even mine."_ The reduplication intensifies the sense. And
then, unwilling to shake loose from the thought, he pushes it
further. _"Yea my reins shall rejoice."_ That deepest, firmest,
lastingest receptacle of joy, the patient _reins_ shall rejoice or
_"exult"_--the very highest feeling coming from the deepest depths.
_"When thy lips,"_ which are the best expounders of the heart,
_"speak right things."_ The doctrine therefore is that a man will
save his child if he disciplines him with these witnessed tokens of
his manifest affection.--_Miller._
Verse 17. This habitual _fear of the Lord_ is nothing separate from
common life. It gives to it a holy character. It makes all its minute
details not only consistent with, but component parts of, godliness.
Acts of kindliness are "done after a godly sort" (John iii. 5, 6).
Instead of one duty thrusting out another, all are "done heartily, as
to the Lord, and not unto man" (Eph. vi. 6, Col. iii. 23). Some
professors confine their religion to extraordinary occasions. But
Elijah seems to have been content to await his translation in his
ordinary course of work (2 Kings ii. 1-12). An example that may teach
us to lay the greater stress upon the daily and habitual, not the
extraordinary service. Others are satisfied with a periodical
religion; as if it were rather a rapture or an occasional impulse,
than a habit. But if we are to engage in morning and evening
devotions, we are also to "wait upon the Lord _all the day_" (Ps.
xxv. 5). If we are to enjoy our Sabbath privileges, we are also to
"abide in our weekly calling with God." Thus the character of a
servant of God is maintained--"devoted to His fear" (Ps.
cxix. 38).--_Bridges._
Verse 18. _"Cut off,"_ as the worldling's is. The worldling expects
to be _cut off._ He toils with a hope, and that so vivid that he
becomes aglow (see Miller's rendering, in verse 17) in worldly
earnestness of purpose; and yet, _ab imo,_ he knows that it will be
_cut off._ . . . How can any intellect stand against such appeals?
Work for something that will pay, for . . . there is something that
shall never be _"cut off."--Miller._
Verse 19. The hinging pivot of this verse is the pronoun _thou._
Friends may do ever so much, but in the end it must be _thyself._
There is an eternal _"way."_ It is a way not for the feet but for the
_heart._ The _heart_ has some day to rise up and enter it. Once in,
it will never wander any more out. _My son,_ take that critical step.
A man has a certain amount of strength, a certain amount of
susceptibility let us call it, in matters of conversion. . . . Now
the father, in his more immediate entreaties to his child, is to
remember this.--_Miller._
Verse 20. A man grows old by the common use of his faculties; but if
he pleases he can travel faster. He can make drafts upon his flesh
with wine, and burn faster. . . . A man can seek death by the most
moral impenitence. But he can also travel faster. He can do it by
drunkenness. He can do it by trains of trespasses, of which common
drunkenness may stand as chief.--_Miller._
We are forbidden not only to be drunkards or gluttons, but to be
found in the company of such persons; for bad company is the common
temptation which the devil uses to draw men to these sins. Those who
have been long inured to a temperate course of life must not think
that they are at liberty to infringe this precept, and to mingle
themselves with the sons of riot, because they are strong enough in
their own eye to overcome all the temptations of sensuality. Christ
charges His own disciples, who had been practised in every virtue
under his own eye, and who had less temptations to this vice than any
other men, to take heed to themselves that their hearts might not be
overcharged with surfeiting and drunkenness.--_Lawson._
Verse 23. Solomon bids us buy the truth, but does not tell us what it
must cost, because we must get it though it be ever so dear. We must
love it both shining and scorching. Every parcel of truth is precious
as filings of gold; we must either live with it or die for it. . . .
A man may lawfully sell his house, land, or jewels, but truth is a
jewel that excels all prices, and must not be sold; it is our
heritage: "Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage for ever"
(Psa. cxix. 111). It is a legacy that our forefathers have bought
with their bloods, which should make us willing to lay down anything
or lay out anything to purchase it.--_Brooks._
A merchant buys for the very purpose of selling; and he will not buy
unless he has a pretty good assurance that he will sell _at a
profit;_ that he can _get_ for his article more than he has _given._
The case here, then, is quite peculiar. It is _all buying._ The
article is one which is to be _bought_ but never _sold._ And why? For
the best possible reason, that _it can never_ be sold at a profit,
there is nothing _too valuable_ to be _given_ for it, there is
nothing _valuable enough_ to be _taken_ for it. . . . 1. The buyer
tests his article. He uses means to ascertain its
_genuineness._ . . . The cautious purchaser makes sure of his
bargain, and all the surer, the higher the price. . . . Now, all that
is presented to us as _truth_ must be thus tested. In _physical
science_ scientific men will not take upon trust what professes to be
a new discovery without examining thoroughly the experiments by which
it is said to have been ascertained. . . . Thus, too, does the
metaphysician in regard to every new theory in _mental_ science; and
the moral philosopher in the department of ethics. . . . Now, we are
as far as possible from wishing it to be otherwise in the department
of _religion._ In proportion to the importance of the case,--to the
height of the authority on which the claims to acceptance are
rested,--the magnitude at once of the benefits promised, and of the
risks incurred,--ought to be the solicitude and care with which the
testing process is conducted. This then is the last department of
all, in which what professes to be truth should be taken upon trust;
in which inquiry should be careless, and faith easy. The obligation
to examine is imperative and solemn; and marvellous, indeed, is the
indisposition of men to enter on the investigation. Men who, with the
utmost earnestness and perseverance, will test every alleged truth in
science, in history, or in politics, cannot be persuaded to apply
their powers to an inquiry more important, by infinite degrees, than
any other that can engage the attention of the human mind! They
either decline it altogether, or they set about it with a levity and
a superficiality utterly at variance with what such a question
demands, and from which no just appreciation or correct conclusion
can be anticipated. 2. It is not enough for the buyer to ascertain
the _genuineness_ of his article. He sets about estimating its real
worth; its worth _intrinsically,_ and its worth _adventitiously;_ its
worth _in itself,_ and its worth _to him._ The two may be widely
different. The diamond is of incomparably more intrinsic worth than
the grain of barley; but the cock in the fable spurned away the
former and picked up the latter. In the present case,--having once
ascertained the Divine authority of the record,--there can be no
hesitation about either the _intrinsic_ or the _relative_ value of
what it makes known. _All truth_ is precious; but its preciousness
is, of course, endlessly varied in degree. Two things may be
considered as combining to constitute its value. They are--its
_subject,_ and its _utility._ In natural science some truths present
a union of both. The discoveries of astronomy for example, are, many
of them, full of intrinsic interest from their vastness and
sublimity, and the impressions they give of the transcendent majesty
of God; while, in some of their practical bearings, they are of
pre-eminent advantage to men. But in a peculiar sense may this be
affirmed of the discoveries of Divine revelation. These discoveries
present views of God's moral government, in its great essential
principles and in their practical application, such as have in them a
weight of moral grandeur, and a consequent depth of absorbing
interest surpassing all that nature can disclose. And, while they
possess intrinsic preciousness above all other truths,--think of
their value when estimated by the blessings which are unfolded in
them, and to which the faith of them introduces the believer, in time
and in eternity! The purchaser values the article he is about to
purchase, by the amount of benefit the possession of it will bring
him. In like manner must you estimate the value of "the truth" you
are here counselled to buy. The value of it, in this view, is summed
up by our Lord himself, when he says, "THIS IS LIFE ETERNAL." What
then, the real worth to you, of any other compared with this? 3. The
buyer, when he has estimated the value of his article, _makes
proportional sacrifices_ to obtain possession of it. Foolish
estimates there may be; and these foolish estimates may be the
occasion of foolish bargains; and these may be the grounds of regret
and self-dissatisfaction. But supposing the certainty of all the
benefits, for time and eternity, which in the Bible are promised and
guaranteed in connection with _"the truth,"_ O! what is there, in the
whole compass of what this world can confer, that should not, without
one moment's hesitation, be sacrificed for its attainment? 4. In
proportion to the buyer's estimate of his article, and the cost at
which he has obtained it, will be the jealousy with which he retains
and guards it. _"Sell it not."_ Selling the truth, is not simply
letting slip from the mind the remembrance of mere abstractions; it
is to give up the profession and faith of it for the sake of the very
things which we sacrificed for it. But _"sell it not."_ Sell it not
for the _pleasures of sin._ Sell it not for the _riches and honours
of the world._ O part not with the pearl of great price for the husks
which the swine do eat. . . . And _be prompt with your bargain._
Those who are much set upon an article will not delay their purchase,
lest perchance it should pass from their hands. Blessed be God there
is no danger here, so far as others coming forward before you is
concerned. . . . But if not now prompt and decided you may be
thwarted in another way. Death may decide the matter for
you.--_Wardlaw._
Verse 26. A supplication is come, as it were, from God to man, that
man would send God his heart; penned by Solomon under the name of
wisdom (chap. ix. 1), and directed to her sons. . . . He which always
gave, now craves; and he which craves always, now gives. Christ
stands at the door like a poor man, and asks not bread, nor clothes,
nor lodgings, which we should give to His members, but our
heart--that is, even the continent of all, and governor of man's
house. . . . Should God be a suppliant unto thee and me, but that our
unthankfulness condemns us, that for all the things which He hath
given unto us, we never considered yet what we should give unto Him
before He asketh. . . . Mark what God hath chosen for Himself: not
that which any other should lose by, like the demands of them which
care for none but themselves, but that which, being given to God,
moves us to give every man his due. . . . Give God thy heart, that He
may keep it; not a piece of thy heart, not a room in thy heart, but
thy heart. The heart divided, dieth. God is not like the mother which
would have the child divided, but like the natural mother which said,
Rather than it should be divided, let her take it all. Let the devil
have all, if He which gave it be not worthy of it. . . . As a man
considers what he does when he gives, so God licenseth us to consider
of that which we do for Him, whether He deserves it, whether we owe
it, whether He can require it, lest it come against our will;
therefore _give_ Me, saith God, as though He would not strain upon
us, or take it from us. . . . Is God so desirous of my heart? What
good can my heart do to God? It is not worthy to come under His roof.
I would I had a better gift to send unto my Lord; go, my heart, to
thy Maker; the Bridegroom hath sent for thee, put on thy wedding
garment, for the King Himself will marry thee. Who is not sorry now
that he did not give his heart before? Is he not worthy to die that
will take his heart from Him that made it, from Him that redeemed it,
from Him which preserves it, from Him that will glorify it, and gives
it to him that will infect it, torment it, condemn it? Will a servant
reach the cup to a stranger when his master calls for it? Or will a
man sell his coat if he have no more? What dost thou reserve for God,
when thou hast given Satan thine heart? Christ hath promised to come
and dwell with thee (Rev. iii. 20); where shall He stay, where shall
He dine, if the chamber be taken up, and the heart let forth to
another? Thou art but a tenant, and yet thou takest His house over
His head, and placest in it whom thou wilt, as if thou wert
landlord.--_Henry Smith._
I. Man has _nothing higher_ to dispose of. His heart is given when he
sets his strongest affections upon an object. Wherever he centres his
strongest love his heart is, and wherever his heart is _he_ is. . . .
II. Man _is compelled_ to dispose of it. He is forced, not by any
outward coercion, but by an inward pressure. It is as necessary for
the soul to love as it is to the body to breathe. The deepest of all
the deep hungers of humanity is the hunger of the soul to love.
Sometimes so ravenous does man's animal appetite for food become,
that he will devour with a kind of relish the most loathsome things;
and so voracious is the heart for some object to love, that it will
settle down upon the lowest and most contemptible creatures rather
than not love at all. III. Man _alone can dispose_ of it. No one can
take it from him by force. He is the only priest who can present
it.--_Dr. David Thomas._
Verse 28. Uncleanness leads to faithlessness of manifold kinds; and
it makes not only the husband unfaithful to the wife, but also the
son to the parents, the scholar to the teacher and pastor, the
servant to the master. The adulteress, inasmuch as she entices now
one and now another into her net, increases the number of those who
are faithless towards men. But are they not, above all, faithless
towards God?--_Delitzsch._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.--Verses_ 29-35.
THE DRUNKARD'S PICTURE.
+I. The drunkard is an entire inversion of man as God intended him to
be.+ God made man's mind to rule his body, but the drunkard's bodily
appetites rule his mind. God gave man an intellect to guide his
actions; He intended the various limbs of his body to be the servants
of his will, and to obey the dictates of his reason. But the drunkard
not only gives up all his spiritual and intellectual power to his
body, but all his other bodily powers to the rule of one sense--that
of his palate. Men who are not awake to their spiritual and mental
needs might be expected to have as much regard for their animal
wants, and to be as careful to avoid bodily suffering as the brute
creation. But it is not so with the drunkard--although nights and
days of privation and suffering are often the fruits of an hour's
drinking, he voluntarily undergoes the former in order to enjoy the
latter. Not only is conscience and reason and heart sacrificed to his
mouth, but every other bodily sense is made to serve the one sense
and every other part of the body to suffer, that one part may be
gratified if but for a moment.
+II. He is an entire inversion of what we might expect even a fallen
man to be.+ Looking at man as he is when he lives for this world
only, he is generally alive to his own immediate temporal interests
and careful to avoid in the future what has brought him suffering in
the past. But it is not so with the slave to drink. If only wife and
children had to leave lives of misery and his own life was a constant
round of even animal enjoyment, the drunkard's career would not be
such an unaccountable infatuation. Human selfishness would be
sufficient to account for it. But who suffers like the drunkard
himself? The wise man enumerates some of his miseries--_woe, grief,
contentions and wounds without cause, the stings of remorse, the
disordered brain, and entire loss of consciousness and of power to
defend one's own life and property_--this is the drunkard's heritage.
And in the intervals between his madness he knows it and drinks to
the dregs the bitter cup of bodily and mental misery that must always
follow the immoderate use of the wine cup. And yet his language is
_"I will seek it yet again."_ The child that has been burnt dreads
the fire, but the poor drunkard scarred from head to foot with the
marks of the flames, seems with all his other losses to have lost
also the natural instinct of self-preservation and the power of
learning anything from the great teacher--experience.
+III. A consideration of the strength and nature of the drunkard's
chain should lead all to shun that which enslaved him.+ When we
consider what havoc intoxicating drink has wrought, it is marvellous
that men do not turn from it with loathing; that they are not afraid
to play with so deadly, and yet so treacherous an enemy to mankind.
When the sailor knows that there is a treacherous whirlpool in the
ocean, which has engulfed a thousand noble vessels, he is careful to
give it a wide berth, to keep far beyond the outermost ring of the
current. But the habit of men in general seems to be to try how near
they can come to his moral and social gulf of death, without being
drawn beneath the waters. The experiment is fraught with deadly
peril, and is often a fatal one. Solomon's advice is to ensure
safety, by not even _"looking upon the wine when it is red."_
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
There is mention made of a monk at Prague, who having heard at shrift
the confessions of many drunkards, wondered at it, and for experiment
would try his brain with this sin, and accordingly stole himself
drunk. Now, after the vexation of three sick days, to all that
confessed that sin he enjoined no other penance than this: "Go and be
drunk again." Surely his meaning was like that of Seneca, that
drunkenness was a torment and affliction to itself.--_Spencer._
Drunkenness is a special water at the devil's banquet. This sin is a
horrible self-theft. . . . Thieves cannot steal lands, unless they be
Westminster Hall thieves, crafty contenders that eat out a true title
with false evidence; but the drunkard robs himself of his lands. Now
he dissolves an acre, and then an acre, into the pot, till he hath
ground all his ground at the malt quern, and run all his patrimony
through his throat. Thus he makes himself the living tomb of his
forefathers--of his posterity. He needs not trouble his sick mind
with a will, or distrust the fidelity of executors.--_T. Adams._
Verse 29. The best that can come of drunkenness is repentance--that
fairest daughter of so foul a mother--and that is not without its
woe, and alas! its sorrow and redness of eyes with weeping for
sin.--_Trapp._
Verse 31. He that would avoid the commission of sin must avoid the
occasion of sin. If we would not fall down the hill we must beware of
coming near the brow of it. Keep thee far from an evil matter. When
the wine laughs in thy face then shut thine eyes lest it steal into
thine heart. A guest may easily be kept out of the house at first,
but if once entertained it is hard to turn him out of doors. When the
governor of a fort once comes to parley with the enemy that besiegeth
him there is great fear that the place will be
surrendered.--_Swinnock._
Verse 33. One remarkable peculiarity of this chapter is the junction
and alternation of these two kindred sins. There they stand, like two
plants of death, each growing on its own independent root, and
nourished by the same soil, but cleaving close to each other by
congeniality of nature, and twisted round each other for mutual
support. . . . The alliance, so generally formed and so firmly
maintained between drunkenness and licentiousness, is a master-stroke
of Satan's policy. It is when men have looked upon this deceitful
cup, and received into their blood the poison of its sting, that
their eyes behold "strange women;" and when they have fallen into
that "narrow pit," they run back to hide their shame, at least from
themselves, in the maddening draught.--_Arnot._
Verse 34. The passage is interesting, as showing what Ps. civ. 25,
26, cvii. 23-30, also show, the increased familiarity of the
Israelites with a sea life.--_Plumptre._
It is very foul weather in which a drunkard saileth. For as St.
Ambrose speaketh, the multitude of lusts in him do raise a great
tempest, which toss his mind to and fro, sailing as it were in the
narrow sea of his body, so that he cannot be pilot to himself. . . .
But that which maketh the drunkard's case worst of all is this: it is
a shipwreck of the body only which in a tempest is feared, but he
maketh shipwreck of his soul if repentance be not a plank of safety
to him.--_Jermin._
* * * * * *