her honourably and courteously, and promises to protect her. But there
is a nearer kinsman than he, and he must be asked first if he will do the
kinsman’s part, and buy his cousin’s plot of land, and marry his cousin’s
widow with it.
And how Boaz goes to the town-gate next day, and sits down in the gate
(for the porch of the gate was a sort of town-hall or vestry-room in the
East, wherein all sorts of business was done), and there he challenges
the kinsman,—Will he buy the ground and marry Ruth? And he will not: he
cannot afford it. Then Boaz calls all the town to witness that day, that
he has bought all that was Elimelech’s, and Ruth the Moabitess to be his
wife.
‘And all the people that were in the gate, and the elders, said, We are
witnesses. The Lord make the woman that is come into thine house like
Rachel and like Leah, which two did build the house of Israel: and do
thou worthily in Ephratah, and be famous in Bethlehem.’
And in due time Ruth had a son. ‘And the women said unto Naomi, Blessed
be the Lord, which hath not left thee this day without a kinsman, that
his name may be famous in Israel.
‘And he shall be unto thee a restorer of thy life, and a nourisher of
thine old age: for thy daughter-in-law, which loveth thee, which is
better to thee than seven sons, hath born him.
‘And Naomi took the child, and laid it in her bosom, and became nurse
unto it.
‘And the women her neighbours gave it a name, saying, There is a son born
to Naomi; and they called his name Obed: he is the father of Jesse, the
father of David.’
And so ends the Book of Ruth.
Now, my friends, can you not answer for yourselves the question which I
asked at first,—Why is the story of Ruth in the Bible, and what may we
learn from it which is necessary for our salvation?
I think, at least, that you will be able to answer it—if not in words,
still in your hearts—if you will read the book for yourselves.
For does it not consecrate to God that simple country life which we lead
here? Does it not tell us that it is blessed in the sight of Him who
makes the grass to grow, and the corn to ripen in its season?
Does it not tell us, that not only on the city and the palace, on the
cathedral and the college, on the assemblies of statesmen, on the studies
of scholars, but upon the meadow and the corn-field, the farm-house and
the cottage, is written, by the everlasting finger of God—Holiness unto
the Lord? That it is all blessed in His sight; that the simple dwellers
in villages, the simple tillers of the ground, can be as godly and as
pious, as virtuous and as high-minded, as those who have nought to do but
to serve God in the offices of religion? Is it not an honour and a
comfort, to such as us, to find one whole book of the Holy Bible occupied
by the simplest story of the fortunes of a yeoman’s family, in a lonely
village among the hills of Judah? True, the yeoman’s widow became the
ancestress of David, and of his mighty line of kings—nay, the ancestress
of our Lord Jesus Christ Himself. But the Book of Ruth was not written
mainly to tell us that fact. It mentions it at the end, and as it were
by accident. The book itself is taken up with the most simple and
careful details of country life, country customs, country folk—as if that
was what we were to think of, as we read of Ruth. And that is what we do
think of—not of the ancestress of kings, but of the fair young heathen
gleaning among the corn, with the pious, courteous, high-minded yeoman
bidding her abide fast by his maidens, and when she was athirst drink of
the wine which the young men have drawn, for it has been fully showed him
all she has done for her mother-in-law; and the Lord will recompense her
work, and a full reward be given her of the Lord God of Israel, under the
shadow of whose wings she is to come to trust. That is the scene which
painters naturally draw; that is what we naturally think of; because God,
who gave us the Bible, meant us to think thereof; and to know, that
working in the quiet village, or in the distant field, women may be as
pure and modest, men as high-minded and well-bred, and both as full of
the fear of God, and the thought that God’s eye is upon them, as if they
were in a place, or a station, where they had nothing to do but to watch
over the salvation of their own souls; that the meadow and the
harvest-field need not be, as they too often are, places for temptation
and for defilement; where the old too often teach the young, not to fear
God and keep themselves pure, but to copy their coarse jests and foul
language, and listen to stories which had better be buried for ever in
the dirt out of which they spring. You know what I mean. You know what
field-work too often is. Read the Book of Ruth, and see what field-work
may be, and ought to be.
Yes, my dear friends. Pure you may be, and gentle, upright, and godly,
about your daily work, if the Spirit of God be within you.
Country life has its temptations: and so has town life, and every life.
But there has no temptation taken you save such as is common to man.
Boaz, the rich yeoman; Naomi, the broken-hearted and ruined; Ruth, the
fair young widow—all had the very same temptations as are common to you
now, here; but they conquered them, because they feared God and kept His
commandments; and to know that, is necessary for your salvation.
And, looked at in this light, the Book of Ruth is indeed a prophecy; a
forecast and a shadow of the teaching of the Lord Jesus Himself, who
spake to country folk as never man spake before, and bade them look upon
the simple, every-day matters which were around them in field and wood,
and open their eyes to the Divine lessons of God’s providence, which also
were all around them; who, born Himself in that little village of
Bethlehem, and brought up in the little village of Nazareth, among the
lonely lanes and downs, spoke of country things to country folk, and bade
them read in the great green book which God has laid open before them all
day long. Who bade them to consider the lilies of the field, how they
grew, and the ravens, how God fed them; to look on the fields, white for
harvest, and pray God to send labourers into his spiritual harvest-field;
to look on the tares which grew among the wheat, and know we must not try
to part them ourselves, but leave that to God at the last day; to look on
the fishers, who were casting their net into the Lake of Galilee, and
sorting the fish upon the shore, and be sure that a day was coming, when
God would separate the good from the bad, and judge every man according
to his work and worth; and to learn from the common things of country
life the rule of the living God, and the laws of the kingdom of heaven.
One word more, and I have done.
The story of Ruth is also the consecration of woman’s love. I do not
mean of the love of wife to husband, divine and blessed as that is. I
mean that depth and strength of devotion, tenderness, and self-sacrifice,
which God has put in the heart of all true women; and which they spend so
strangely, and so nobly often, on persons who have no claim on them, from
whom they can receive no earthly reward;—the affection which made women
minister of their substance to our Lord Jesus Christ; which brought Mary
Magdalene to the foot of the Cross, and to the door of the tomb, that she
might at least see the last of Him whom she thought lost to her for ever;
the affection which has made a wise man say, that as long as women and
sorrow are left in the world, so long will the Gospel of our Lord Jesus
live and conquer therein; the affection which makes women round us every
day ministering angels, wherever help or comfort are needed; which makes
many a woman do deeds of unselfish goodness known only to God; not known
even to herself; for she does them by instinct, by the inspiration of
God’s Spirit, without self-consciousness or pride, without knowing what
noble things she is doing, without spoiling the beauty of her good work
by even admitting to herself, ‘What a good work it is! How right she is
in doing it! How much it will advance the salvation of her own
soul!’—but thinking herself, perhaps, a very useless and paltry person;
while the angels of God are claiming her as their sister and their peer.
Yes, if there is a woman in this congregation—and there is one, I will
warrant, in every congregation in England—who is devoting herself for the
good of others; giving up the joys of life to take care of orphans who
have no legal claim on her; or to nurse a relation, who perhaps repays
her with little but exacting peevishness; or who has spent all her
savings, in bringing up her brothers, or in supporting her parents in
their old age,—then let her read the story of Ruth, and be sure that,
like Ruth, she will be repaid by the Lord. Her reward may not be the
same as Ruth’s: but it will be that which is best for her, and she shall
in no wise lose her reward. If she has given up all for Christ, it shall
be repaid her ten-fold in this life, and in the world to come life
everlasting. If, with Ruth, she is true to the inspirations of God’s
Spirit, then, with Ruth, God will be true to her. Let her endure, for in
due time she shall reap, if she faint not;—and to know that, is necessary
for her salvation.
SERMON XI.
SOLOMON.
ECCLESIASTES i. 12–14.
I the Preacher was king over Israel in Jerusalem. And I gave my
heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning all things that are
done under heaven: this sore travail hath God given to the sons of
man to be exercised therewith. I have seen all the works that are
done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of
spirit.
ALL have heard of Solomon the Wise. His name has become a proverb among
men. It was still more a proverb among the old Rabbis, the lawyers and
scribes of the Gospels.
Their hero, the man of whom they delighted to talk and dream, was not
David, the Psalmist, and the shepherd-boy, the man of many wanderings,
and many sorrows: but his son Solomon, with all his wealth, and pomp and
magic wisdom. Ever since our Lord’s time, if not before it, Solomon has
been the national hero of the Jews; while David, as the truer type and
pattern of the Lord Jesus Christ, has been the hero of Christians.
The Rabbis, with their Eastern fancy—childishly fond, to this day, of
gold, and jewels, and outward pomp and show—would talk and dream of the
lost glories of Solomon’s court; of his gilded and jewelled temple, with
its pillars of sandal-wood from Ophir, and its sea of molten brass; of
his ivory lion-throne, and his three hundred golden shields; of his
fleets which went away into the far Indian sea, and came back after three
years with foreign riches and curious beasts. And as if that had not
been enough, they delighted to add to the truth fable upon fable. The
Jews, after the time of the Babylonish captivity, seem to have more and
more identified Wisdom with mere Magic; and therefore Solomon was, in
their eyes, the master of all magicians. He knew the secrets of the
stars, and of the elements, the secrets of all charms and spells. By
virtue of his magic seal he had power over all those evil spirits, with
which the Jews believed the earth and sky to be filled. He could command
all spirits, force them to appear to him and bow before him, and send
them to the ends of the earth to do his bidding. Nothing so fantastic,
nothing so impossible, but those old Scribes and Pharisees imputed it to
their idol, Solomon the Wise.
The Bible, of course, has no such fancies in it, and gives us a sober and
rational account of Solomon’s wisdom, and of Solomon’s greatness.
It tells us how, when he was yet young, God appeared to him in a dream,
and said, Ask what I shall give thee. And Solomon made answer—
‘ . . . O Lord my God, Thou hast made Thy servant king instead of David
my father; and I am but a little child: I know not how to go out or come
in.
‘Give therefore Thy servant an understanding heart to judge Thy people,
that I may discern between good and bad: for who is able to judge this
Thy so great a people?
‘And the speech pleased the Lord, that Solomon had asked this thing.
‘And God said unto him, Because thou hast asked this thing, and hast not
asked for thyself long life; neither hast asked riches for thyself, nor
hast asked the life of thine enemies; but hast asked for thyself
understanding to discern judgment;
‘Behold, I have done according to thy words: lo, I have given thee a wise
and an understanding heart; so that there was none like thee before thee,
neither after thee shall any arise like unto thee.
‘And I have also given thee that which thou hast not asked, both riches
and honour: so that there shall not be any among the kings like unto thee
all thy days.’
And the promise, says Solomon himself, was fulfilled.
In his days Judah and Israel were many, as the sand which is by the
sea-shore, for multitude, eating and drinking and making merry; and
Solomon reigned over all kings, from the river to the land of the
Philistines and the border of Egypt; and they brought presents, and
served Solomon all the days of his life. And he had peace on all sides
round about him. And Judah and Israel dwelt safely, every man under his
own vine and his own fig-tree, all the days of Solomon.
‘I was great,’ he says, ‘and increased more than all that were before me
in Jerusalem; also my wisdom remained with me. And whatsoever mine eyes
desired I kept not from them; I withheld not my heart from any joy; for
my heart rejoiced in all my labour . . .
‘Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the
labour that I had laboured to do: and, behold, all was vanity and
vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun.
‘And I turned myself to behold wisdom, and madness, and folly: for what
can the man do that cometh after the king? even that which hath been
already done.’
Yes, my dear friends, we are too apt to think of exceeding riches, or
wisdom, or power, or glory, as unalloyed blessings from God. How many
are there who would say,—if it were not happily impossible for them,—Oh
that I were like Solomon! Happy man that he was, to be able to say of
himself, ‘I was great, and increased more than all that were before me in
Jerusalem. And whatsoever mine eyes desired, I kept not from them; I
withheld not my heart from any joy, for my heart rejoiced in all my
labour.’
To have everything that he wanted, to be able to do anything that he
liked—was he not a happy man? Is not such a life a Paradise on earth?
Yes, my friends, it is. But it is the Paradise of fools.
Yet, Solomon was not a fool. He says expressly that his wisdom remained
with him through all his labour. Through all his pleasure he kept alive
the longing after knowledge. He even tried, as he says, wine, and mirth,
and folly, yet acquainting himself with wisdom. He would try that, as
well as statesmanship, and the rule of a great kingdom, and the building
of temples and palaces, and the planting of parks and gardens, and his
three thousand Proverbs, and his Songs a thousand and five; and his
speech of beasts and of birds and of all plants, from the cedar in
Lebanon to the hyssop which groweth on the wall. He would know
everything, and try everything. If he was luxurious and proud, he would
be no idler, no useless gay liver. He would work, and discern, and
know,—and at last he found it all out, and this was the sum
thereof—‘Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher; all is vanity.’
He found no rest in pleasure, riches, power, glory, wisdom itself; he had
learnt nothing more after all than he might have known, and doubtless did
know, when he was a child of seven years old. And that was, simply to
fear God and keep His commandments; for that was the whole duty of man.
But though he knew it, he had lost the power of doing it; and he ended
darkly and shamefully, a dotard worshipping idols of wood and stone,
among his heathen queens. And thus, as in David the height of chivalry
fell to the deepest baseness; so in Solomon the height of wisdom fell to
the deepest folly.
My friends, the truth is, that exceeding gifts from God like Solomon’s
are not blessings, they are duties; and very solemn and heavy duties.
They do not increase a man’s happiness; they only increase his
responsibility—the awful account which he must give at last of the
talents committed to his charge. They increase, too, his danger. They
increase the chance of his having his head turned to pride and pleasure,
and falling shamefully, and coming to a miserable end. As with David, so
with Solomon. Man is nothing, and God is all in all.
And as with David and Solomon, so with many a king and many a great man.
Consider those who have been great and glorious in their day. And in how
many cases they have ended sadly! The burden of glory has been too heavy
for them to bear; they have broken down under it.
The great Charles the Fifth, Emperor of Germany and King of Spain and all
the Indies: our own great Queen Elizabeth, who found England all but
ruined, and left her strong and rich, glorious and terrible: Lord Bacon,
the wisest of all mortal men since the time of Solomon: and, in our own
fathers’ time, Napoleon Buonaparte, the poor young officer, who rose to
be the conqueror of half Europe, and literally the king of kings,—how
have they all ended? In sadness and darkness, vanity and vexation of
spirit.
Oh, my friends! if ever proud and ambitious thoughts arise in any of our
hearts, let us crush them down till we can say with David: ‘Lord, my
heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty; neither do I exercise myself
in great matters, or in things too high for me.
‘Surely I have behaved and quieted myself, as a child that is weaned of
his mother; my soul is even as a weaned child.’
And if ever idle and luxurious thoughts arise in our hearts, and we are
tempted to say, ‘Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take
thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry;’ let us hear the word of the Lord
crying against us: ‘Thou fool! This night shall thy soul be required of
thee. Then whose shall those things be which thou hast provided?’
Let us pray, my friends, for that great—I had almost said, that crowning
grace and virtue of moderation, what St. Paul calls sobriety and a sound
mind. Let us pray for moderate appetites, moderate passions, moderate
honours, moderate gains, moderate joys; and, if sorrows be needed to
chasten us, moderate sorrows. Let us long violently after nothing, or
wish too eagerly to rise in life; and be sure that what the Apostle says
of those who long to be rich is equally true of those who long to be
famous, or powerful, or in any way to rise over the heads of their
fellow-men. They all fall, as the Apostle says, into foolish and hurtful
lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition, and so pierce
themselves through with many sorrows.
And let us thank God heartily if He has put us into circumstances which
do not tempt us to wild and vain hopes of becoming rich, or great or
admired by men.
Especially let us thank Him for this quiet country life which we lead
here, free from ambition, and rash speculation, and the hope of great and
sudden gains. All know, who have watched the world, how unwholesome for
a man’s soul any trade or occupation is which offers the chance of making
a rapid fortune. It has hurt the souls of too many merchants and
manufacturers ere now. Good and sober-minded men there are among them,
thank God, who can resist the temptation, and are content to go along the
plain path of quiet and patient honesty; but to those who have not the
sober spirit, who have not the fear of God before their eyes, the
temptation is too terrible to withstand; and it is not withstood; and
therefore the columns of our newspapers are so often filled with sad
cases of bankruptcy, forgery, extravagant and desperate trading, bubble
fortunes spent in a few years of vain show and luxury, and ending in
poverty and shame.
Happy, on the other hand, are those who till the ground; who never can
rise high enough, or suddenly enough, to turn their heads; whose gains
are never great and quick enough to tempt them to wild speculation: but
who can, if they will only do their duty patiently and well, go on year
after year in quiet prosperity, and be content to offer up, week by week,
Agur’s wise prayer: ‘Give me neither poverty nor riches, but feed me with
food sufficient for me.’
They need never complain that they have no time to think of their own
souls; that the hurry and bustle of business must needs drive religion
out of their minds. Their life passes in a quiet round of labours. Day
after day, week after week, season after season, they know beforehand
what they have to do, and can arrange their affairs for this world, so as
to give them full time to think of the world to come. Every week brings
small gains, for which they can thank the God of all plenty; and every
week brings, too, small anxieties, for which they can trust the same God
who has given them His only-begotten Son, and will with Him freely give
them all things needful for them; who has, in mercy to their souls and
bodies, put them in the healthiest and usefullest of all pursuits, the
one which ought to lead their minds most to God, and the one in which (if
they be thoughtful men) they have the deep satisfaction of feeling that
they are not working for themselves only, but for their fellow-men; that
every sheaf of corn they grow is a blessing, not merely to themselves,
but to the whole nation.
My friends, think of these things, especially at this rich and blessed
harvest-time; and while you thank your God and your Saviour for His
unexampled bounty in this year’s good harvest, do not forget to thank Him
for having given the sowing and the reaping of those crops to you; and
for having called you to that business in life in which, I verily
believe, you will find it most easy to serve and obey Him, and be least
tempted to ambition and speculation, and the lust of riches, and the
pride which goes before a fall.
Think of these things; and think of the exceeding mercies which God heaps
on you as Englishmen,—peace and safety, freedom and just laws, the
knowledge of His Bible, the teaching of His Church, and all that man
needs for body and soul. Let those who have thanked God already, thank
Him still more earnestly, and show their thankfulness not only in their
lips, but in their lives; and let those who have not thanked Him, awake,
and learn, as St. Paul bids them, from God’s own witness of Himself, in
that He has sent them fruitful seasons, filling their hearts with food
and gladness:—let them learn, I say, from that, that they have a Father
in heaven who has given them His only-begotten Son, and will with Him
freely give them all things needful: only asking in return that they
should obey His laws—to obey which is everlasting life.
SERMON XII.
PROGRESS.
(_Preached before the Queen at Clifden_, _June_ 3, 1866.)
ECCLESIASTES vii. 10,
Say not thou, What is the cause that the former days were better than
these? for thou dost not inquire wisely concerning this.
THIS text occurs in the Book of Ecclesiastes, which has been for many
centuries generally attributed to Solomon the son of David. I say
generally, because, not only among later critics, but even among the
ancient Jewish Rabbis, there have been those who doubted or denied that
Solomon was its author.
I cannot presume to decide on such a question: but it seems to me most
probable, that the old tradition is right, even though the book may have
suffered alterations, both in form and in language: but any later author,
personating Solomon, would surely have put into his month very different
words from those of Ecclesiastes. Solomon was the ideal hero-king of the
later Jews. Stories of his superhuman wealth, of magical power, of a
fabulous extent of dominion, grew up about his name. He who was said to
control, by means of his wondrous seal, the genii of earth and air, would
scarcely have been represented as a disappointed and broken-hearted sage,
who pronounced all human labour to be vanity and vexation of spirit; who
saw but one event for the righteous and the wicked, and the wise man and
the fool; and questioned bitterly whether there was any future state, any
pre-eminence in man over the brute.
These, and other startling utterances, made certain of the early Rabbis
doubt the authenticity and inspiration of the Book of Ecclesiastes, as
containing things contrary to the Law, and to desire its suppression,
till they discovered in it—as we may, if we be wise—a weighty and
world-wide meaning.