CRITICAL NOTES.--+4.+ Delitzsch reads this verse _"The madness of
anger and the overflowing of wrath, and before jealousy who keeps his
place?"_ +5. Secret love.+ Zöckler and Hitzig understand this love to
be that _"which from false consideration dissembles, and does not
tell his friend of his faults when it should do so."_ Delitzsch
thinks it refers to _"love which is confined to the heart alone, like
a fire, which, when it burns secretly, neither lightens nor warms."_
+8. Place,+ rather _"home."_ +9.+ This verse is obscurely rendered in
the English version. Delitzsch translates _"Oil and frankincense
rejoice the heart, and the sweet discourse of a friend from
counselling of soul."_ Ewald, Elster, Luther, etc., render _"The
sweetness of the friend springeth from faithful counsel of soul."_
Zöckler, _"The sweetness of a friend is better than one's own
counsel."_ +10. Neighbour that is near,+ etc. _"The near neighbour is
he who keeps himself near as one dispensing counsel and help to the
distressed, just as the far-off brother is he who, on account of his
unloving disposition, keeps at a distance from the same."_ (Zöckler.)
Most commentators substantially agree with this view of the text.
+14. As a curse,+ etc. It is no better than a curse, or it may be
regarded as veiling an evil intention. +16. And the ointment of his
right hand.+ Zöckler and Delitzsch translate _"And his right hand
graspeth, or meeteth oil,"_ that is, he cannot hold her. Other
commentators, retaining the English translation, understand it to
refer to the hopelessness of concealing her vexatious disposition.
+17.+ Stuart and Noyes find here the idea of provocation. But most
critics take the ordinary view. Miller translates _"Iron is welded by
iron: so, for a man, the tie is the face of a friend."_ +20. Hell and
destruction,+ rather _"the world of the dead."_ +Eyes.+ Some
understand the reference to be the insatiableness of human passion.
+21. A man to his praise.+ Delitzsch understands the meaning to be
that a man is valued according to the measure of public opinion.
Ewald, Hitzig, and others, coincide with Zöckler's rendering, _"A man
according to his glorying," i.e.,_ "One is judged according to the
standard of that which he makes his boast."
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 1.
DIVINE PROPERTY.
+I. A possession exclusively Divine.+ Both the distant and the
immediate future belong to God alone; not only does He possess the
exclusive control of what shall be in a hundred years to come, but
to-morrow, and even the next hour and minute, are exclusively His.
There is, doubtless, an existence beyond time where God's creatures
can look forward to the future with more certainty than can man in
his present condition, but it does not belong to even the highest
archangel to say what shall be in the far-off or even the near time
to come. This is the prerogative of Him alone with whom all is one
eternal present.
+II. A possession to which men often lay claim.+ If we were to hear a
man making definite plans as to how he would spend a fortune which it
was only probable he would possess, we should wonder at his tone of
certainty, and perhaps attribute it to weakness or presumption. But
we all dispose of our days, and sometimes of our months and years,
long before they are ours, and while our own past experience and that
of others around us admonish us of the great uncertainties that
surround our future, we are prone to lay our plans as if to-morrow
and many years to come were ours. It is doubtless necessary and right
to forecast to a certain extent--we must look forward to what will
probably or may be on the morrow, or be guilty of another form of
presumption. But we are not forbidden by the wise man to do this--all
that the proverb warns us against is that boastful certainty in
relation to the future which so ill becomes creatures so limited in
their knowledge and so straitened in their resources--that definite
laying of our plans which leaves God entirely outside of them, and
that confident disposal of ourselves which forgets to say, _"If the
Lord will we shall live, and do this, or that"_ (James iv. 15). It
would be foolish for a raw recruit to pretend to map out the plan of
his general's campaign, or for an unlettered peasant to prophecy what
line of policy would be adopted by the prime minister of the land;
but he who boasts himself of to-morrow is more foolish, and is also
wicked.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The day is said to bring forth because time travaileth with the
Lord's decrees, and in their season bringeth them forth, even as a
woman with child doth her little babies. Indeed, time properly
worketh not, but, because God's works are done in time, it is said to
do those things which are done therein.--_Muffett._
I. _This ignorance of the morrow is necessary to the prosecution of
our duties on earth._ Could we draw aside the veil of the future and
look at the things which are coming to us, our energies would be so
paralysed as to incapacitate us for the ordinary avocations of life;
mercy has woven the web of concealment. II. _This ignorance of
to-morrow is our incentive to the preparation for the future._ Christ
used this argument: _"Be ye, therefore, ready,_ for in such an hour
as ye think not the Son of Man cometh."--_Dr. David Thomas._
The same reason that should check our boasting of to-morrow may
preserve us from desponding fears. It may be stormy weather to-day;
but storms do not last all the year. We are filled and tormented with
fears of some impending evil, but we often give ourselves real pain
by the prospect of calamities that never were appointed to us by the
providence of God.--_Lawson._
How awfully has this _boasting_ been put to shame! In the days of
Noah "they married wives, and were given in marriage, until the very
day when the flood came and destroyed them all." Abner promised a
kingdom, but could not ensure his life for an hour. Haman plumed
himself upon the prospect of the queen's banquet, but was hanged like
a dog before night. The fool's soul was required of him "on the very
night" of his worldly projects "for many years" to come. "Serious
affairs to-morrow," was the laughing reply of Archias, warned of a
conspiracy which hurried him into eternity the next hour. The infidel
Gibbon calculated upon fifteen years of life, and died within a few
months, at a day's warning.--_Bridges._
To count on to-morrow so as to neglect the duty of to-day is in many
respects the greatest practical error among men. None have a wider
range, and none are charged with more dreadful consequences. Whether
the work in hand pertain to small matters or great--to the sowing of
a field or the redemption of a soul--for every one who resolves
deliberately not to do it, a hundred tread the same path, and suffer
the same loss at last, who only postpone the work of to-day with the
intention of performing it to-morrow. The proverb contains only the
negative side of the precept, but it is made hollow for the very
purpose of holding the positive promise in its bosom. The Old
Testament sweeps away the wide-spread indurated error; the New
Testament then deposits its saving truth upon the spot. . . . Solomon
warns us to distrust the future, and Paul persuades us to accept the
present hour. "Behold now is the accepted time; behold now is the day
of salvation." "To-morrow," is the devil's great ally, the very
Goliath in whom he trusts for victory. "Now," is the stripling whom
God sends forth against him. A great significance lies in that little
word. It marks the points on which life's battle turns. That spot is
the Hougoumont of Waterloo. There the victory is lost or won. . . . An
artist solicited permission to paint a portrait of the Queen. The
favour was granted--and the favour was great, for probably it would
make the fortune of the man. A place was fixed, and a time. At the
fixed place and time the Queen appeared; but the artist was not
there--he was not ready yet. When he did arrive, a message was
communicated to him that her Majesty had departed, and would not
return. Such is the tale. We have no means of verifying its history,
but its moral is not dependent on its truth. If it is not a history,
let it serve as a parable. Translate it from the temporal into the
eternal. Employ the earthly type to print a heavenly lesson.--_Arnot._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 2.
SELF PRAISE.
+I. Merit will win the praise of others.+ The light of the sun makes
its existence felt by every man who is possessed of vision, and there
are but few men who do not acknowledge that it is a good and pleasant
thing. The perfume of the flowers cannot be hidden while there are
creatures endowed with the sense of smell, and their fragrance is so
grateful and refreshing to us, that it is sure to win from us an
acknowledgement of its existence and expressions of delight. And as
men are endowed with senses which recognise light and fragrance and
every form of physical beauty, so there is a moral sense in man which
compels him to discern moral excellence or moral superiority. The
conscience and the reason stand in the same relation to spiritual
worth and intelligence as the sense of sight does to the sunlight, or
that of smell to a pleasant odor. It is true that there are men who
will refuse to acknowledge the presence of moral worth, but there are
also some who will not acknowledge the existence of good in anything.
But they know it is there notwithstanding. And although man as fallen
may be more ready to praise that which appeals to his senses than
that which commands the admiration of his better nature, there will
always be found some in every community who will give to real worth
its due proportion of praise.
+II. Self-praise generally implies a lack of merit.+ A man of
intellectual or moral worth loves knowledge or excellence of any kind
for its own sake, and not for the height to which it may raise him in
the estimation of his fellows. Although he is or ought to be grateful
for the esteem of others, he does not make that the end of his
existence; his satisfaction arises not from what people think of him,
but from what he is in himself. And just in proportion as a man
attains to mental or moral heights, so does he apprehend more truly
how little after all he has and is, and so the higher he goes the
less value he commonly sets upon his present attainments. It is
therefore an inference most commonly drawn that he who praises
himself is but little deserving the praise of others, and is not
likely to get it. And this conclusion is generally a correct one.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
It must never be forgotten that all such passages imply the sincere
and earnest cultivation of a real and divinely approved _principle._
The principle called for in this verse is that of true,
self-diffident modesty. Considerations entirely different, and even
opposite, may induce the suppression of _self-praise:_--even the very
desire of praise from others. From this arises the danger of holding
out--to the young especially--the motive or inducement of _getting a
character for modesty._ This may produce artifice, affectation,
simulation, hypocrisy. That which is wanted,--that which God approves
and requires,--is _honest simplicity,_ which neither, on the one
hand, courts praise, nor, on the other, affects to disdain and
undervalue it,--which neither blusters out its own commendation, nor
whines and simpers, and depreciates, and makes light of what it is or
of what it has done, merely for the purpose of making others say
more. The affectation of despising the commendation of others is
worse than the self-commendation that is reprehended. It is, in
truth, the very same spirit showing itself under another
aspect.--_Wardlaw._
Praise is a comely garment, but though thyself do wear it, another
must put it on, or it will never fit well about thee. Praise is sweet
music, but it is never tuneable in thine own mouth, if it come from
the mouth of another, it soundeth most tuneably in the ears of all
that hear it. Praise is a rich treasure, but it never makes thee
rich, unless another tell the sum.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 3 _and_ 4.
WRATH AND ENVY.
+I. A most unhappy combination.+ A fool and wrath. Wrath or
displeasure is possible of every being capable of emotion. The power
to love implies the power to hate, and he who can be pleased can also
be displeased. The most tender mother can be angry, and righteously
angry, with her child, and we read in Scripture of the _"wrath of the
Lamb"_ (Rev. vi. 16). But there is an infinite distance between the
wrath of the Holy God, and even between that of a good man or woman,
and that of a moral fool. Divine displeasure is an emotion, and never
a passion. God is never passive in the hands of His anger. And in
proportion as men are like God they always have their displeasure
under the control of their will. It is as amenable to their
conscience and their reason as an obedient horse to his rider. But a
fool is a man who is without power of self-government--who is himself
governed first by one passion or desire and then by another--like a
ship without a rudder, at the mercy of the winds and waves. When such
an one is in the hands of his wrath, a most mischievous and
destructive force is at work. For whether we consider its effects on
the man himself, or upon the objects of his anger, we may truthfully
brand it as _burdensome, and cruel and outrageous._ 1. _It is a cruel
burden to the subject of it._ A more wretched creature can hardly be
found in the universe than a man passive in the hands of his own
anger; it is like a heavy weight crushing out of him all power to
stand morally erect and self-possessed, and like a knotted scourge
inflicting wounds not on the body but on the spirit. 2. _The objects
of it also find it a painful yoke._ In proportion as the fool is in a
position to exert his influence over others, in the same proportion
is the amount of misery which he can create by his unbridled wrath.
Perhaps its effects are nowhere so painfully felt as in the domestic
circle. As a master the wrathful fool may make his servants
miserable, but they may be able to quit his service and so get beyond
his influence. But there is no escape for wife and children from the
wrath of a morally foolish husband and father; for such there is a
millstone ever about the neck, and tormenting goads always pricking
the feet.
+II. The most pitiless foe.+ Terrible as is the unbridled wrath of a
fool, there is a passion more to be dreaded. The open battle-field in
broad daylight is a place to be shunned, but an ambush at midnight is
more certain death. Men fear to meet the lion upon the highroad, but
the scorpion concealed among the grass is more dangerous. For some
resistance can be offered to an open and avowed enemy, but no defence
can be prepared against an unseen foe. And if wrath is like the angry
lion, envy is like the deadly scorpion. The first gives some warning
of his design, but the latter none. The man of unbridled passion
often misses his aim by reason of his unsteady hand--the very excess
of his wrath sometimes takes away his power to execute his intention.
And he generally deals his blows at his enemy's face--speaks out his
hatred in his hearing, and publicly and openly tries to do him a
mischief. But the envious man acts in a different manner. The natures
that are most prone to envy have generally some power of
self-control--they are more cold-blooded than passionate men. Though
they are moral fools, they have generally enough intellectual wisdom
to see the best method of bringing to pass their malicious purposes;
and they consequently prefer an ambush to an open fight, and choose
rather to stab a man in the back than to meet him face to face. In
other words, they do not upbraid him openly and give him an
opportunity to defend himself, but blacken his character by
insinuations when he is absent. And as it is the nature of envy to
brood over its grievances in secret, and that of unbridled wrath to
manifest its displeasure immediately and openly, the first gathers
strength by repression and the other loses it by the very force of
its expression.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
As an earthquake ariseth from a tumultuous vapour shut up in the
caverns and bowels of the earth, where it tosseth and tumbleth until
it break out and overturn all that standeth in the way of it, so envy
is a pestilent vapour which lieth in the heart of a man, where it
boileth and fretteth until it tumbleth and throweth down all that
standeth in the malicious eye of it. Houses and trees stand firm
against a tempest of lightning or a flood of rain, and men stand out
against the cruelty of sudden wrath and rage of a man's lasting
anger, but what house or tree standeth against the force of an
earthquake, and who is able to stand against the force of
envy?--_Jermin._
I do not ask for men passionless; this is _hominem de homine
tollere._ Give them leave to be men, not madmen. Anger in the best
sense is the gift of God, and it is no small art to express anger
with premeditated terms, and on seasonable occasions. God placed
anger among the affections engrafted in nature, gave it a seat,
fitted it with instruments, ministered it matter whence it might
proceed, provided humours whereby it is nourished. It is to the soul
as a nerve to the body. The philosopher calls it the whetstone to
fortitude, a spur intended to set forward virtue. But there is a
vicious, impetuous, frantic anger, earnest for private and personal
grudges; not like a medicine to clear the eye, but to put it
out. . . . To cure the bedlam passion . . . let him take some herb of
grace, an ounce of patience, as much of consideration how often he
gives God cause to be angry with him, and no less of consideration
how God hath a hand in Shimei's railing--mix all these together with
a faithful confidence that God will dispose all wrongs to thy good;
hereof be made a pill to purge choler. . . . Anger is a frantic fit,
but envy is a consumption. . . . Among all mischiefs it is furnished
with one profitable quality--the owner of it takes most hurt. . . .
It were well for him that he should dwell alone. It is a pity that he
should come into heaven, for to see "one star excel another in glory"
would put him again out of his wits. . . . His cure is hard. . . .
Two simples may do him good if he could be won to take them--a
scruple of content and a dram of charity.--_T. Adams._
Well then might it be asked: _Who is able to stand before envy?_ Even
the perfect innocence of paradise fell _before it._ Satan lost his
own happiness. Then he _envied_ man, and ceased not to work his
destruction. (See Wis. ii. 23, 24.) It shed the first human blood
that ever stained the ground (1 John iii. 12). It quenched the
yearnings of natural affection, and brought bitter sorrow to the
patriarch's bosom. Even the premier of the greatest empire in the
world was its temporary victim. Nay more--the Saviour in His most
benevolent acts was sorely harassed, and ultimately sunk under its
power. "His servants therefore must not expect to be above their
Master."--_Bridges._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.--Verses_ 5 _and_ 6, 9 _to_ 11,
_and_ 14.
TESTS OF FRIENDSHIP.
We group these verses together because they all treat of the same
subject, viz., friendship in reality and friendship in profession
only. The same subject occurred in the preceding chapter (see on
verses 23-28, and in chap. xvii. 17, 18, page 519).
+I. He does not love us truly who does not love us well enough to
tell us of our faults.+ The true friend must desire to see the object
of his affection as free from faults as it is possible for him to be;
the truest and the purest love seeks by every means within its reach
to bless the beloved one. And as we should not consider him a friend
who would make no effort to free us from any bodily disease or
physical deformity, we ought not to call him an enemy who will strive
to rid us of moral and spiritual blemishes. For such an one gives
proof that he cares more for our ultimate good than for our present
smile--he shows that he is even willing to risk our displeasure in
the hope of doing us real kindness. He who gives us kisses when he
ought to give us reproof, or who holds back deserved rebuke from
cowardice, is more cruel than if he withheld from us an indispensable
medicine simply because it had a bitter taste. For if we will not
take the unpleasant draught from the hand that we have clasped in
friendship, we are not likely to find it more pleasant when
administered by a stranger, much less by an enemy. And if a wound is
to be probed it is surely better for the patient that it should be
done by a skilful and tender hand than by one who has no sympathy
with us and no acquaintance with our inner life. And as it is certain
that those who do not love us will either rebuke us for our faults or
despise us on account of them, the real friend is he who, by a loving
faithfulness, strives to rid us of them. What would have become of
David if Nathan had lacked the courage to say to him, "Thou art the
man."
+II. Such a true friend is the most refreshing and invigorating
influence that can bless our life.+ Setting aside the blessing and
strength which come to man direct from his Father in heaven, there is
no source whence he can derive so much help and comfort as from the
hearty sympathy and sound advice of a real friend. They are like the
anointing oil and perfume which refresh the weary Eastern traveller
at the end of his day's journey, removing the traces of toil and the
sense of fatigue, and putting new life into every limb. Life is a
dusty, toilsome highway for most men, and they sorely stand in need
of some soothing and renewing influence as they pursue the journey.
And this, Solomon assures us--and experience confirms his
assurance--is to be found in hearty friendship.
+III. The cultivation and retention of such friends should be one of
the aims of life.+ Seeing that there is no other means by which we
are so likely to get a true acquaintance with ourselves, and no other
earthly influence which is so likely at once to elevate and console
us, we ought to try and make real friends and be faithful to our
friendships after they are formed. And especially we ought ever
gratefully to remember the friends of our youth--those who gave us
help and counsel when we most needed them, and to whose faithfulness
and forbearance we probably owe far more than we can ever rightly
estimate. There is a proneness in the youth as he rises into manhood,
and is probably removed from early associations and lifted into a
higher social sphere, to forget his earliest and truest friend, but
the truly wise and honourable man will count fidelity to such a
sacred duty.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Verse 6. Many indeed profess their value for a true friend; and yet
in the most valuable discharge of friendship, they "count him their
enemy." The apostle had some just apprehension on this account,
though so wise and affectionate, and speaking from the mouth of God
(Gal. iv. 12-16). As of the rule of friendship was, that we should
absolutely, "please," without reference to the Divine
restriction--"for good to edification" (Rom. xv. 2). Christian
faithfulness is the only way of acting up to our profession. And much
guilt lies upon the conscience in the neglect. But this open _rebuke_
must not contravene the express rule of love--"telling the fault
between thee and him alone." Too often, instead of pouring it
secretly into our brother's ear, it is proclaimed through the wide
medium of the world's ear, and thus it passes through a multitude of
channels before it reaches its one proper destination. The _openness
of the rebuke_ describes the free and reserved sincerity of the
heart, not necessarily the public exposure of the offender; save when
the character of the offence, or the interests of others, may appear
to demand it (1 Tim. v. 20).--_Bridges._
This is that false love which really injures its object; and which,
on this account,--that is, from its injurious _tendency,_ how little
soever designed, gets in the Scriptures the designation of _hatred:_
"Thou shalt not _hate_ thy brother in thine heart: thou shalt in any
wise rebuke thy neighbour, and not suffer sin upon him" (Lev.
xix. 17).--_Wardlaw._
Verse 9. The best physic for man is man. For friendship is a kind of
life to man, without which there is no comfort of a man's life.
Friendship is in men a kind of step to God, and by means of love man
draweth near to God, when, as from being the friend of man, he is
made the friend of God. But as among the Jews there was no oil that
did so rejoice the heart as that wherewith the kings were anointed;
no perfume that did so delight the soul as that which the priest
offered; in like manner as there is no friend so sweet as God, so
there is no counsel that doth so glad the soul, so cheer the heart,
as that which He giveth in His Word, whereby we are made even kings
and priests unto Him.--_Jermin._
The _heartiness of a friend's counsel_ constitutes its excellence. It
is not official, or merely intelligent. It is _the counsel of his
soul.--Bridges._
Verse 10. _"Neither go into thy brother's house in the day of thy
calamity."_ This has certainly the appearance of a very strange
advice. Whither, in the day of our calamity, should we go, if not to
the house of a brother? Where are we to expect a kind reception, and
the comfort we require, if not there? But the proverb, like all
others, must be understood generally, and applied in the
circumstances and the sense obviously and mainly designed. The
meaning seems to be either--1. Do not choose "the day of thy
calamity" for making thy visit, if thou hast not shown the same
intimacy before, in the day of thy success and prosperity. This
unavoidably looks not like the impulse of affection, but of felt
necessity, or convenience and self-interest: "Ay, ay," your brother
will be naturally apt to say, "I saw little of you before: you are
fain to come to see me _now,_ when you feel your need of me, and
fancy I may be of some service to you." Or, 2. Let not sympathy be
forced and extorted. "In the day of thy calamity," if thy brother has
the heart of a brother, and really feels for thee, _he will come to
thee;_ he will _seek and find thee._ If he does not, then do not
press yourself upon his notice, as if you would constrain and oblige
him to be kind. This may, and probably will, have the effect of
disgusting and alienating him, rather than gaining his love. Love and
sympathy must be unconstrained as well as unbought. When they are
either got by a bribe, or got by dint of urgent solicitation, they
are alike heartless, and alike worthless. The reason is--_"For better
is a neighbour that is near, than a brother far off."_ The
antithetical phrases _"at hand"_ and _"far off,"_ have evident
reference here, not to _locality,_ but to _disposition._ A friendly
and kindly-disposed neighbour, who bears no relation to us save that
of neighbourhood, is greatly preferable to a brother--to any near
relation whatever that is cold, distant, and alienated.--_Wardlaw._
The proverbial sense is, that better is a lesser comfort which is
ready at hand, than a greater solace which we must go to seek
after.--_Jermin._
Verse 14. It is an excellent description of a notorious flatterer,
and a just denunciation of his due reward. First, _he blesseth with a
loud voice, as if he wanted breath_ and sides to set out the praise
of his friend, and as if he would not only awaken him with the news
of it but many others also with the loudness of it. Secondly, he doth
it _rising early_ as if it were some main and principal business
which he had to do, and wherein he would show himself more forward
than any others. Thirdly, he doth it _in the morning,_ as if he would
bless his friend before he blessed God, or rather would make him his
god by offering his sacrifice of praise unto him.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 7.
WANT OF APPETITE.
+I. The value which men set upon things depends upon their condition
and circumstances.+ When we look around upon our fellow-creatures, we
can but remark the widely different estimates which different men
place upon the same things, and also the different value which the
same man attaches to the same object at different times. To begin as
Solomon does, with our lower nature--there are hundreds of well-fed
citizens in every community who look with indifference at the most
tempting dainties that are set before them, and perhaps close to
their mansions are to be found as many to whom one good meal would
give the keenest physical enjoyment. And if a traveller were passing
through England he would probably turn away with disdain from a
dinner of bread and water; but if he were in some far-off desert land
he would hail such plain fare with delight. If we apply the proverb
to man's intellectual nature, we find the same law in operation. Some
men are surrounded with opportunities of mental culture and growth,
and they despise and neglect them because they have no intellectual
appetites, while others who are shut out for such advantages are
longing eagerly for them. And it is no less true in spiritual things.
The longings and aspirations of those whose spiritual appetites have
been awakened are entirely unknown to those who have not felt their
soul need, and the language which they use to express their desires
is an unknown tongue to those who say, "I am rich and have need of
nothing" (Rev. iii. 17). There was a time in the life of Saul of
Tarsus, when the language of Paul the apostle would have been utterly
unintelligible to him. It would have been hard to convince the young
man who consented to the death of Stephen, that he would one day
_"count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of
Christ Jesus"_ (Phil. iii. 8), but the different estimate which he
set upon the Gospel of the Son of God depended entirely upon the
difference in his own spiritual condition at those different periods
in his life. Even the gift of a Saviour is lightly esteemed, when men
are full of pride and worldliness; it is true in this sense as in
others that _"the full soul loatheth an honeycomb."_
+II. A sense of need will not only teach men to value luxuries and
comforts, but will make what was unpalatable welcome and acceptable.+
The young man who had lightly esteemed the good things on his
father's table, came not only to remember with a longing desire the
bread that fed his father's servants, but would _"fain have filled
his belly with the husks that the swine did eat"_ (Luke xv. 16). And
when a youth has known the misery of homelessness, the restraints of
his father's house, and the daily toil which once he felt to be so
irksome, are light and easy in comparison. And so it is when a soul
begins to hunger and thirst after righteousness. The conditions of
reconciliation with God and the yoke of Christ, which before were so
distasteful, are joyfully and eagerly accepted, and that which was
bitter becomes sweet to the soul.
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 8.
A MAN AND HIS PLACE.
+I. It is good for every man to have a place in the world which he
can call his home, and work which he feels especially belongs to
him.+ A man should have some spot on earth which is dearer to him
than all the world beside, and some calling or profession which he
can recognise as his own. It is not by any means desirable that he
should always be in that place, or that he should never employ his
time in other work. The bird often leaves the nest and flies hither
and thither for many hours, and men must and ought not to confine
themselves always to one place and to the same employment. Change of
scene and occupation is always desirable within certain limits, and
is often a necessity with men. But however far the bird flies she
returns to her nest, and however much men may be obliged or may
choose to wander, they should always have one place to call home; and
however many things may occupy their hours of leisure, they should
have one kind of work which especially fills up their life.
+II. It is not good hastily and often to quit one sphere of work and
one mode of life for another.+ Every honest calling has some
advantages connected with it, and almost every sphere in life has
something to recommend it; and steady perseverance in one employment,
and continuance in one position, is often far more conducive to our
material prosperity, and more beneficial to our character and
reputation, than constant changes, even although they promise more
speedy promotion and a smoother path to some desired end. This much
is certain, that change merely for the sake of change is foolish, and
change without good and sufficient reason is not wise.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
By _place,_ the Holy Ghost understandeth particular callings. Now God
had taken care that none should molest a bird in her nest, there she
was safe (Deut. xxii. 6, 7); but when she begins to wander then she
is in danger, either to be shot by the fowler or caught in the snare,
or made a prey to other ravenous birds. So a man that is diligent in
his calling whilst he is employed therein, is in God's precincts, and
so under God's protection; but when he wandereth abroad from his
calling, going out of his bounds to sit and talk, he is a waif and a
stray, and so falleth to the lord of the manor, "the god of this
world." Reader, thou mayest expect to be preserved whilst thou art
a-working, but not when thou art wandering. Those soldiers who leave
their place in a march and straggle to pilfer, are many times snapt
and slain by their enemies, while they who keep their places are safe
and secure.--_Swinnock._
Changes of place is thought of as an evil. The sense of security is
lost and cannot be regained. The maxim, it may be noted, is
characteristic of the earlier stages of Hebrew history, before exile
and travel had made change of country a more familiar thing. We seem
to hear an echo of the feeling which made the thought of being "a
fugitive and a vagabond" (Gen. iv. 12, 13) the most terrible of all
punishments.--_Plumptre._
In such a comparison as this, we cannot but suppose there is a
reference to the _purposes_ for which the nest is constructed. The
allusion is doubtless to the period of _incubation_--to the hatching
of the eggs, and the rearing of the young. If the bird "wanders from
her nest" during that period, what is the consequence? Why, that the
process is frustrated--the eggs lose their vital warmth; they become
cold, addled, and unproductive. Absence, even for a very short time,
will produce this effect; and produce it to such a degree, that no
subsequent sitting, however constant and prolonged, can ever vivify
again the extinct principle of vitality. And then, during the period
of _early training,_ when the young are dependent on the brooding
breast and wing of the parent bird for their warmth, and on the
active quickness of the parent bird, as their purveyor, for their
sustenance,--desertion is death. If the mother _then_ "wanders from
her nest," forsaking for any length of time her callow brood--they
perish, the hapless victims of a mother's neglect. They are starved
of cold, or they are starved of hunger; or, it may be, their secret
retreat is found out by some devouring foe. Such appears to be the
apt illusion. Let us now consider _to what cases it may with truth
and profit be applied._ 1. In the first place then, I apply it to a
man's HOME. _Home_ may surely be regarded as most appropriately
designated _"his place."_ It is there he ought to be; not merely
_enjoying_ comfort, but _imparting_ it;--not the place of selfish
ease and indulgence, but of dutiful and useful occupation. He has a
charge there,--committed to him, not by the instincts of nature
merely, but by the law of God. His family demand his first interest
and get his first attention. 2. I apply the proverb to the SITUATION
IN LIFE which has been assigned to a man by Providence. As the
brooding bird should be found upon her eggs, or with her young, so
should every servant, in every department, be found in his own place,
and at his own occupation. It should be the aim of every man to have
it said of him with truth--_Tell me where he ought to be, and I will
tell you where he is._ 3. I wish to apply the words to the SANCTUARY
OF GOD. I think they may be so applied with perfect appropriateness.
Every Christian must delight in God's sanctuary. It is to him, as a
worshipper of God, _"his place;"_--the place where, at stated times,
he ought to be, and where he chooses, and desires, and loves to be.
How frequently, how strongly, how beautifully, does the Psalmist
express this feeling!--and on one occasion with an exquisitely
touching allusion to those birds of the air, that built their nests
in the vicinity of the temple; and which, when banished from
Jerusalem, and kept at a distance from the sacred precincts, he
represents himself as envying--coveting their proximity to the altars
of Jehovah (Psa. lxxxiv. 3).--_Wardlaw._
The 9th, 10th, 11th, and 14th verses have been considered with the
5th and 6th. For Homiletics on the subject of verse 12 see on chap.
xiv. 15, page 364. Verses 13, 15, and 16 are almost a verbal
repetition of chaps. xx. 16, and xix. 13. For Homiletics see pages
589 and 573.
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 17.
A SOCIAL WHETSTONE.
+I. This proverb may be applied to men's general intercourse with
each other.+ It is needful for a man to mingle with his
fellow-creatures in order to have his faculties and capacities
developed and fitted for action. Social intercourse is stimulating to
the mind and refreshing to the spiritual nature, and is indeed
indispensable to our happiness and usefulness. "A man by himself,"
says Muffet, "is no man--he is dull, he is very blunt; but if his
fellow come and quicken him by his presence, speech, and example, he
is so whetted on by this means that he is much more skilful,
comfortable, and better than when he was alone." The human
countenance, as the organ by which the soul of one man makes its
presence felt by another, has a quickening influence even when no
words are uttered, and this general friction of soul with soul
preserves men from intellectual dulness and spiritual apathy.
+II. It is especially applicable to intercourse with those whom we
know and love.+ Above and beyond the general need of man to have
constant intercourse with man, there are times and seasons when the
face of a _friend_ is especially helpful. The sword that has seen
much hard service must come in contact with another steel instrument
to restore its edge. The ploughshare that has pushed its way through
hard and stony ground must be fitted for more work by friction with a
whetstone, and the axe, after it has felled many trees, must be
subjected to a similar process. So the intellectual and spiritual
nature of man becomes at times in need of a stimulus from without
which may fitly be compared with this sharpening of iron by iron.
Hard mental toil, contact with uncongenial persons and things,
disappointments, and even great spiritual emotions, have a tendency
to exhaust our energies and depress our spirits, and render us for a
time indisposed to exertion, and perhaps incapable of it. In such a
condition a look of sympathy and encouragement from one who
understands us is very serviceable indeed, and has the power to
arouse within us fresh hope, and therefore new life for renewed
action.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
As you can only sharpen iron by iron, you can _only sharpen souls by
souls._ Neither dead matter, however majestic in aspect or thunderous
in melody, nor irrational life, however graceful in form or mighty in
force, can sharpen a blunted soul. Mind alone can quicken mind; it is
in all cases the spirit that quickeneth.--_Dr. David Thomas._
_Iron is welded by iron._ (This is Miller's rendering.) That is, we
must bring a _"force"_ of _"iron"_ (not of tin, or brass, or wood,
but, by the very necessities of its nature, of _iron_), and strictly
a face of it, so that face may meet face (as of the water in the 19th
verse), or they cannot run or mould themselves together. Fit a face
of iron, red hot, to a face of iron, also hot, and force them hard
upon each other, and thus you weld them. Bring a man face to face
with his neighbour, and let them be warmed by a common taste, and,
though one of them be God Himself, this will weld them.--_Miller._
We owe some of the most valuable discoveries of science to this
active reciprocity. Useful hints were thrown out, which have issued
in the opening of large fields of hitherto unexplored knowledge. The
commanding word in the field of battle puts a keen edge upon _the
iron_ (2 Sam. x. 11-13). The mutual excitation for evil is a solemn
warning against "evil communications." But most refreshing is it,
when, as in the dark ages of the Church, "they that feared the Lord
spake often one to another." _Sharpening_ indeed must have been the
intercourse at Emmaus, when "the hearts of the disciples burned
within them." The apostle was often so invigorated by _the
countenance of his friends,_ that he longed to be "somewhat filled
with their company." Upon the principle--"Two are better than
one"--our Lord sent His first preachers to their work. And the first
Divine ordination in the Christian Church was after this precedent
(Acts xiii. 2-4).--_Bridges._
The countenance of a friend is a wonderful work of God. It is a work
as great and good as a sun in the heavens; and verily, He who spread
it out and bade it shine did not intend that it should be covered by
a pall. . . . He intends that it should shine upon hearts that have
grown dark and cold. . . . The human countenance--oh, thou possessor
of the treasure, never prostitute that gift of God! If you could, and
should pluck down these greater and lesser lights that shine in
purity from heaven, and trail them through the mire, you would be
ashamed as one who had put out the eyes and marred the beauty of
creation. Equal shame and sin are his who takes this terrestrial
sun--blithe, bright, sparkling countenance--and with it fascinates
his fellow into the old serpent's filthy folds.--_Arnot._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 18.
THE REWARD OF SERVICE.
+I. The reward of the servant of nature.+ The fig-tree may here be
taken as typical of all that the earth produces for the sustenance of
man. God has ordained that man shall be a co-worker with Himself in
making the earth fruitful. If He gives the life to the herb or the
tree, and sends the sun and the rain to quicken and nourish it, man
must give his service too. It is his business to prepare the soil, to
tend the God-given life, and to protect it as far as possible from
all adverse influences. And this being done, some reward is certain.
There will be cases of individual and occasional failure, but _fruit
for service_ is the rule in the kingdom of nature.
+II. The reward of service rendered to man.+ Although the word
_servant_ is now obnoxious to many ears, we do well to remember the
estimate which God puts upon faithful service and the important place
which it holds in the world. He who served unto death left this
command on record, _"Whosoever will be the chiefest, shall be servant
of all"_ (Mark x. 44), and a little consideration will convince us
that the whole of human society is knit together by service. In one
sense, all true men and women, however high their position, are
servants to others. The good monarch and the faithful statesman are
servants to their nation as truly as men and women in more lowly
stations are servants to individual masters. It is, however,
doubtless to these latter that the wise man here refers, and faithful
service rendered by them in their small sphere is as much esteemed by
God as the service of the greater and more gifted. Those who serve
_"as to the Lord, and not unto men"_ shall _"of the Lord receive the
reward of the inheritance,"_ says Paul (Col. iii. 22-24). Honour
shall be awarded by God, not in proportion to the kind of service
rendered, but in proportion to the spirit in which it is performed,
and this fruit of faithful service will never fail. And, as a rule,
esteem and gratitude from the earthly master will also be rendered.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
All sorts of inferiors, then, as both servants and subjects, must
make this reckoning and account of their superiors and rulers, that
they are unto them their peculiar charge, whereon they must attend,
and the special hope of their honour and preferment. They must
therefore think and say thus with themselves: Surely this is the
fig-tree that I must watch and keep; this is the same olive-tree that
I must look unto. I must not suffer this to be spoiled or destroyed.
I must not suffer my ruler's goods to be wasted, nor his name to be
discredited, nor the gifts of God in him to decay; I must keep his
favour, and I must seek his welfare, as much as in me
lieth.--_Muffet._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 19.
A CORRECT LIKENESS.
+I. A mirror in which we may see the reflection of the hearts of
others.+ All the knowledge that we have of our own personal
appearance is gained by means of some reflecting surface. We can only
look upon ourselves indirectly, and it is quite possible that every
person who looks upon us has a juster conception of our appearance
than we ourselves have. If there were no substance which could serve
as mirrors, a man must always remain ignorant as to those
peculiarities of feature which distinguish him from every other
person on the face of the earth. But none are destitute of nature's
looking-glass--the stream or lake, or even a smaller quantity of
water, will show a man what he is like as to his exterior. And by
means of a medium we can gain much knowledge concerning the inner
life of our human brothers and sisters. As we may gain a good idea of
our own face by seeing its reflection in water, so we may form a
fairly correct estimate of the feelings and hopes and desires of
others by studying our own. After making allowance for many
differences upon the surface dependent upon difference of
temperament, and education, and circumstances, we shall be safe in
concluding that in the depths of the human soul there are spots which
form a common meeting-ground for all mankind.
+II. A means by which we may gain the hearts of others.+ We cannot
plead ignorance of the way to our brother's heart. We must not
conclude, because in outward expression he differs from us, we have
therefore nothing in common, no clue to what is passing within his
breast. If we could call to mind how we felt in like circumstance, or
try to imagine how we should feel if we were in his place, we shall
hardly fail to form some idea of his feelings, and shall therefore be
able so to regulate our behaviour towards him as in some measure to
supply his soul needs.
(There are other interpretations of this verse, for which we refer to
the Comments.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Here is one of the foundations on which that rule is built of doing
to others as we would be done by (Exod. xxiii. 9). . . . One corrupt
heart is like another, and so is one sanctified heart, for the former
bears the same image of the earthy, the latter the same image of the
heavenly.--_Henry._
The proverb _may_ be regarded as expressing _reciprocity of soul._ It
may mean this: that just as the water will give back to you the exact
expression which you gave to it--the frown or the smile, the hideous
or the pleasing--so human hearts will treat you as you treat them.
"With what measure you mete it shall be measured to you again." This
is true--manifestly true; kindness begets kindness, anger anger,
justice justice, fraud fraud, the world through.--_Dr. David Thomas._
In the world we see our own hearts embowelled; and there we can learn
what ourselves are at the cost of other men's sins.--_Bp. Hopkins._
As in the outline water trembles, and is uncertain, so also are
hearts. The lesson is: Trust not!--_Luther._
No man knoweth or showeth the spirit of a man, but the spirit of a
man that is in him. The water, as a certain glass, somewhat dim
indeed, but very true, representeth the countenance therein imprinted
unto the countenance that beholdeth the same; even so the heart
showeth man to man; that is to say, the mind and the conscience of
every man telleth him justly, though not perfectly what he is, as
whether he be good or evil, in God's favour or out of the same; for
the conscience will not lie, but accuse or excuse a man, being
instead of a thousand witnesses. . . . As water that is troubled
representeth the visage amiss, so a troubled or polluted mind may
sometimes wrongly show to a man the estate wherein he standeth. But
if the soul be not wholly corrupt and the conscience seared as with a
hot iron, it will declare to a man his condition rightly, though not
peradventure fully in all respects.--_Muffet._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 20.
INSATIABILITY.
+I. A destructive force always in operation.+ Ever since the earth
closed over the first dead body, it has been constantly opening to
receive those whom death has made ready for the grave, and to-day
this terrible and remorseless destroyer is as busy in our midst as
ever. And we know that it will be so to the end of time; while the
present dispensation lasts, men will never be able to say that death
has ceased to claim the mortal part of man, or that the last grave
has been dug in the vast graveyard of the world. This is a most
melancholy stand-point from which to view man and his destiny. If all
the human race lived to a good old age, and went down to their last
earthly resting-place like a stock of corn fully ripe, death would
still be a dark and dreary thing, looked at by itself, but it becomes
much more appalling when it strikes men and women in the prime of
life, and carries them off, often without warning, from the place
where they seemed so much needed, and to which they were bound by so
many ties.
+II. A faculty of men always at work.+ The eye of man is simply an
organ by which knowledge is conveyed to his mind. And his appetite
for fresh mental food is not lessened by that which he has received
in the past--on the contrary, it is quickened and whetted in
proportion to the supply, for while an ignorant man is often content
in his ignorance, the man who has learned most is generally the most
eager to learn more. And this passion in man for knowledge is not
quenched by the certain consciousness he possesses that one day he
_must,_ that to-morrow he _may,_ quit the scene of his
investigations, and end his search after truth under his present
conditions. Surely if men did not instinctively feel that this life
is not the only one, their desire after constant intellectual growth
would not be so ardent. If there was not that within them that told
them that death would not end their opportunities of growing in
knowledge, the contemplation of the shortness of life would paralyze
the acquisitive faculty of men. But we take the strength and
universality of this undying desire of man as an argument for his
existence after death and the grave have taken possession of the
material house in which he lived and laboured on the earth.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The _eye_ is the avenue of growth. The growth will be eternal. . . .
It will take in more and more and raise or sink us through eternal
ages. . . . The terms here used are used elsewhere for anything
insatiate (chap. xxx. 16). Solomon describes a great psychological
law, that the mind by its very nature sees, and by all its seeings
will grow, either in one way or the other.--_Miller._
The _eyes,_ by a very natural figure, are put for the _desires._ Upon
that which is the object of our desire, we _fix our eyes;_ and that
with an intensity of settled eagerness proportioned to the degree of
the desire (chap. xxiii. 5). The meaning, then, is not merely that
the sense of _sight_ never has enough of its own peculiar enjoyments,
but that the _desire that is by the eye expressed_ is never satisfied
by any amount of present gratification. The desires of men are
insatiable. They set their hearts on some particular object, and long
for its attainment. They fix in their mind some point of advancement
in the acquisition of the world,--some measure of wealth, or of power
which they think, if once realised, would satisfy them to the full.
They get what they want; but they still long as before. There is ever
something unattained. Having gained the summit of one eminence, they
see another above it; and as they mount, their views widen and their
conceptions and wishes amplify, and still more is required to fill
them.--_Wardlaw._
The meaning of the second clause as indicated by this parallel cannot
be doubtful. It relates to the really demoniacal insatiableness of
human passion, especially the "lust of the eyes." (Comp. 1 John
ii. 16, James iii. 6; and in particular Prov. xxx. 16; Eccles.
i. 8.)--_Zöckler._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 21.
A CRUCIBLE FOR CHARACTER.
Although the second interpretation of this proverb given in the
Critical Notes is very generally adopted, it will very well bear the
other constructions given below, which is indeed adopted by many
expositors.
+I. Praise received is a test of character.+ Many moralists think
that it is more difficult to pass uninjured through "good report"
than through "evil report." Dr. Payson reckons "well meant but
injudicious commendations" a source of temptation to him, and we do
certainly often meet men possessing many good qualities whom
popularity seems to have injured. But all men who have any striking
intellectual gifts or moral excellencies will be subject to this
refiner's fire, and if they pass through it uninjured they will prove
that they are made of very pure metal. As we remarked on verse 2,
page 725, merit will win praise, and therefore every deserving man
will be more or less subject to this test, and his conduct and
bearing under it will reveal the real character of his motives and
the strength of his principles. In proportion as his actions have
been disinterested and his aims pure and unselfish, in the same
proportion will he be able to bear praise. If he is a truly humble
man--if he has a right sense of his dependence on God and a
consciousness of his own shortcomings--the praise of his
fellow-creatures will only make him strive to be more deserving of
it; but if there is an alloy of baser metal mixed with the gold and
silver of his character, such an ordeal will be very likely to reveal
it.
+II. Praise given is a test of character.+ That upon which a man
bestows praise reveals the standard by which he rules his life. Men
praise that which they value, and there cannot therefore be a better
revelation of their moral condition. A man who praises the action of
another, irrespective of its moral character, shows that he attaches
little value to goodness, while he who praises a bad action proclaims
himself a lover of sin. On the other hand, commendation bestowed upon
good deeds and godly men at least indicates a preference for what is
good, which one may hope will be manifested not only in word but also
in deed.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
1. It may express what every man, with reference to the praise
bestowed upon him, _ought to do:_--that is, he ought to do with it
what the "fining-pot" does to the "silver," and the "furnace to the
gold." He should _try it well._ There is a deal of dross frequently
in it; and men are apt to be fonder of the dross, in some of its
appearances, than of the sterling metal. The process of refining
should in this case be very cautiously pursued: just as a chemist, if
anxious for the correct result of an experiment with the crucible,
will be the more careful in making it, in proportion as he is
conscious of any leaning towards a particular theory,--lest this
should bias his mind and put him off his guard. 2. "A man is to his
praise what the fining pot is to silver, and the furnace is to gold,"
because a man's conduct _actually does put to the test_ the
commendation bestowed upon him. That conduct is like "the fining-pot"
and "the furnace" to it, in regard to the estimate formed of it _by
others._ His behaviour detects whether it be or be not just and
merited. Commendation naturally excites notice. All eyes are on the
man who elicits applause, to ascertain if the applause be
well-founded. In this way the commendation is _put to the test;_ and
the man himself is the _tester;_--proving or disproving the justice
of the character given him.--_Wardlaw._
As praise is due to worth, so it is the tryer and refiner of worth.
For as silver is melted in the fining pot, and gold in the furnace;
so is the heart of man even melted with joy in the furnace of praise.
And as those metals which have least solidity are soonest melted, so
where there is least of the solidity of worth, there the heart is
soonest melted with praise. And as in the furnace the light matter is
blown away into smoke and vapour; so by praise a light heart is
quickly blown up, and vainly transported and carried away with it.
But as the silver and the gold are made the finer and the purer by
the furnace, so true worth is ennobled and made the richer by just
praise ascribed to it. For he that hath worth in him, the more he is
praised the more will he endeavour to deserve it, and by praise
seeing what is dross in himself, will by his care purge it out, and
cast it away.--_Jermin._
The thought in verse 22 is but a repetition of a thought which has
often occurred before, as for instance in chaps. xvii. 10 and in
xix. 29. See pages 509 and 510, also page 581.
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.--Verses_ 23-27.
MODEL FARMING.
These words were especially applicable to the Israelitish people in
their early history, when every family lived upon its own domain and
found all its simple wants supplied by the produce of the land and
the cattle which fed upon it. The paragraph deals--
+I. With the duties of such a life.+ Solomon had several times before
given exhortations to diligence in labour, but here he sees rather to
enforce the necessity of diligent and constant supervision on the
part of the master and owner of the land. He is not addressing a
hired servant, but one who is a landed proprietor and has flocks and
herds of his own. If a man in so highly favoured a position desires
to reap all its benefits he must diligently superintend all who he
employs and set them a good example of industry and perseverance. He
must not be content to leave these things to hirelings, but must give
such close attention to all that is going on in his domain as to be
able intelligently to guide all the varied engagements which follow
one another as one season succeeds the other. No man ought to
consider this an unworthy employment of his mental powers, and he who
does so would do well to remember that the cultivation of the soil
was the employment which God gave to man when He first created him in
His own image. As an incentive to industry in this direction the
proverb contains a reminder of the uncertainty of riches--it is
unwise of any man to be wholly dependent upon a fortune made in the
past and to have no resource in case of its loss.
+II. It sets forth the rewards attached to the performance of such
duties.+ There is first the supply of the necessaries of life.
Luxuries are not promised, but it is implied that simple food and
clothing will not be wanting; and a sufficiency of these is all that
is really needful to man's comfort. But there is a pleasure in
obtaining them in this way which is surely not found in any other
calling. The cultivator of the ground escapes much of the monotony
found in most other professions, and has pleasures and advantages to
which dwellers in the city are strangers. If he is more exposed to
the hardships of the winter, the joy of spring--"when the tender
grass sheweth itself"--is surely enough to repay him for it, and then
follow the varied occupations of summer, one affording relief to the
other, until the year is crowned with the "joy of harvest." Surely no
mode of life is more favourable to bodily and spiritual health than
the one here sketched by the Wise Man.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Solomon tells us, in another place, that the instability and
uncertainty of earthly things, after all our care, is a motive to
draw off our hearts from them, and to fix our eyes upon nobler
objects; but he tells us, in this place, that the perishing nature of
earthly things is likewise a reason for bestowing a moderate and
lawful share of our attention upon our temporal interests.--_Lawson._
Verse 25. The frail condition of fading worldly things is here well
expressed, it appeareth only and is cut down. _The tender grass
sheweth itself,_ and it is but a shewing, for that being done, it is
eaten up presently, being at once, as it were, both seen and
devoured. The herbs of the mountain are gathered; their growing is
not mentioned as being no sooner grown than gathered, and as being
grown for the gathering only. . . . Wherefore as the careful
husbandman looketh to the hay and grass and herbs, and takes them in
their time, so is the good spiritual husbandman to consider the short
time of worldly contentments, and in their time to use them, at no
time to trust in them. As hay and grass and herbs are taken in their
season, so it is the season in all things that is to be taken. And,
therefore, when the season appeareth, let not thy negligence appear
in omitting it; when occasion shows itself, show not thyself careless
in apprehending of it; when the fruit of opportunity is to be
gathered, climb the mountain speedily.--_Jermin._
Verses 26 and 27. In these two verses the wise man dehorteth from
wastefulness of apparel, and from excess in diet. . . . The
proverbial sense is, that plainness of apparel keepeth a man's estate
warmest; and that a homespun thread in clothing is a strong and
lasting thread in the web of a man's worldly fortune, and that a
sober and temperate feeding both in himself and family doth best feed
the estate of any man, and that the flock of a man thriveth best when
he is contented with the nourishment and sustenance that cometh from
the flock.--_Jermin._
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