{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_42189/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_42189","id":"gutenberg_42189","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42189","summary":null,"tags":["Bible. Proverbs -- Commentaries","Category: History - Religious","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality"],"text":"Produced by Douglas L. Alley, III, Colin Bell and the\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n(This file was produced from images generously made\navailable by The Internet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n THE EXPOSITOR'S BIBLE.\n\n EDITED BY THE REV.\n\n W ROBERTSON NICOLL, M.A., LL.D.,\n\n _Editor of \"The Expositor.\"_\n\n\n\n\n\n THE BOOK OF PROVERBS.\n\n BY\n\n R. F. HORTON, M.A.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n =London:=\n\n HODDER AND STOUGHTON,\n\n 27, PATERNOSTER ROW.\n\n MDCCCXC\n\n\n\n\n THE EXPOSITOR'S BIBLE.\n\n EDITED BY THE REV. W. ROBERTSON NICOLL, M.A., LL.D.\n\n _Crown 8vo, cloth, price_ 7s. 6d. _each vol._\n\n\n\n FIRST SERIES, 1887-88.\n\n Colossians.\n By A. MACLAREN, D.D.\n\n St. Mark.\n By Very Rev. the Dean of Armagh.\n\n Genesis.\n By Prof. MARCUS DODS, D.D.\n\n 1 Samuel.\n By Prof. W. G. BLAIKIE, D.D.\n\n 2 Samuel.\n By the same Author.\n\n Hebrews.\n By Principal T.C. EDWARDS, D.D.\n\n\n SECOND SERIES, 1888-89.\n\n Galatians.\n By Prof. G. G. FINDLAY, B.A.\n\n The Pastoral Epistles.\n By Rev. A. PLUMMER, D.D.\n\n Isaiah I.-XXXIX.\n By G. A. SMITH, M.A. Vol. I.\n\n The Book of Revelation.\n By Prof. W. MILLIGAN, D.D.\n\n 1 Corinthians.\n By Prof. MARCUS DODS, D.D.\n\n The Epistles of St. John.\n By Rt. Rev. W. ALEXANDER, D.D.\n\n\n THIRD SERIES, 1889-90.\n\n Judges and Ruth.\n By Rev. R. A. WATSON, M.A.\n\n Jeremiah.\n By Rev. C. J. BALL, M.A.\n\n Isaiah XL.-LXVI.\n By G. A. SMITH, M.A. Vol. II.\n\n St. Matthew.\n By Rev. J. MONRO GIBSON, D.D.\n\n Exodus.\n By Very Rev. the Dean of Armagh.\n\n St. Luke.\n By Rev. H. BURTON, B.A.\n\n\n FOURTH SERIES, 1890-91.\n\n Ecclesiastes.\n By Rev. SAMUEL COX, D.D.\n\n St. James and St. Jude.\n By Rev. A. PLUMMER, D.D.\n\n Proverbs.\n By Rev. R. F. HORTON, M.A.\n\n Leviticus.\n By Rev. S. H. KELLOGG, D.D.\n\n The Gospel of St. John.\n By Prof. M. DODS, D.D. Vol. I.\n\n The Acts of the Apostles.\n By Rev. Prof. G. T. STOKES, D.D.\n\n LONDON: HODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, PATERNOSTER ROW.\n\n\n\n\n THE\n\n BOOK OF PROVERBS.\n\n\n\n\n BY\n\n R. F. HORTON, M.A.,\n\n _Hampstead_;\n\n LATE FELLOW OF NEW COLLEGE, OXFORD.\n\n\n\n\n\n =London:=\n\n HODDER AND STOUGHTON,\n\n 27, PATERNOSTER ROW.\n\n MDCCCXCI.\n\n\n\n\n \"Shrewd remarks\n Of moral prudence, clothed in images\n Lively and beautiful.\"\n WORDSWORTH.\n\n\n\n\n _Printed by Hazell Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury._\n\n\n\n\n CONTENTS.\n\n\n PAGE\n\n INTRODUCTION 1\n\n I.\n\n THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM 9\n\n II.\n\n WISDOM AS THE GUIDE OF CONDUCT 24\n\n III.\n\n THE EARTHLY REWARDS OF WISDOM 37\n\n IV.\n\n EDUCATION: THE CHILD'S THOUGHT OF THE PARENT 52\n\n V.\n\n THE WAYS AND ISSUES OF SIN 65\n\n VI.\n\n CERTAIN EXAMPLES OF THE BINDING CHARACTER OF OUR\n OWN ACTIONS 79\n\n VII.\n\n REALISM IN MORAL TEACHING 92\n\n VIII.\n\n THE FIRST-BORN OF THE CREATOR 106\n\n IX.\n\n TWO VOICES IN THE HIGH PLACES OF THE CITY 122\n\n X.\n\n WEALTH 135\n\n XI.\n\n GOODNESS 149\n\n XII.\n\n THE TONGUE 163\n\n XIII.\n\n PRIDE AND HUMILITY 179\n\n XIV.\n\n THE INWARD UNAPPROACHABLE LIFE 191\n\n XV.\n\n A PASSIONATE DISPOSITION 203\n\n XVI.\n\n A JUST BALANCE 215\n\n XVII.\n\n FRIENDSHIP 227\n\n XVIII.\n\n THE EVIL OF ISOLATION 239\n\n XIX.\n\n HUMAN FREEDOM 250\n\n XX.\n\n IDLENESS 262\n\n XXI.\n\n WINE 275\n\n XXII.\n\n THE TREATMENT OF THE POOR 288\n\n XXIII.\n\n EDUCATION: THE PARENT'S THOUGHT OF THE CHILD 303\n\n XXIV.\n\n FORGIVING 314\n\n XXV.\n\n THE KING 325\n\n XXVI.\n\n THE FOOL 337\n\n XXVII.\n\n LIVING DAY BY DAY 350\n\n XXVIII.\n\n AN ASPECT OF ATONEMENT 362\n\n XXIX.\n\n THE NEED OF REVELATION 375\n\n XXX.\n\n THE WORDS OF AGUR 386\n\n XXXI.\n\n A GOOD WOMAN 396\n\n INDEX OF PASSAGES 411\n\n GENERAL INDEX 416\n\n\n\n\n INTRODUCTION.\n\n\nIn attempting to make the book of Proverbs a subject of Expository\nLectures and practical sermons it has been necessary to treat the book\nas a uniform composition, following, chapter by chapter, the order\nwhich the compiler has adopted, and bringing the scattered sentences\ntogether under subjects which are suggested by certain more striking\npoints in the successive chapters. By this method the great bulk of\nthe matter contained in the book is brought under review, either in\nthe way of exposition or in the way of quotation and allusion, though\neven in this method many smaller sayings slip through the expositor's\nmeshes. But the grave defect of the method which is thus employed is\nthat it completely obliterates those interesting marks, discernible on\nthe very surface of the book, of the origin and the compilation of the\nseparate parts. This defect the reader can best supply by turning to\nProfessor Cheyne's scholarly work \"Job and Solomon; or, The Wisdom of\nthe Old Testament;\" but for those who have not time or opportunity to\nrefer to any book besides the one which is in their hands, a brief\nIntroduction to the following Lectures may not be unwelcome.\n\nThe Jewish tradition ascribed the Proverbs, or Sayings of the Wise, to\nSolomon, just as it ascribed the Psalms, or inspired lyrics of the\npoets, to King David, and we may add, just as it ascribed all the\ngradual accretions and developments of the Law to Moses. But even a very\nuncritical reader will observe that the book of Proverbs as we have it\nis not the work of a single hand; and a critical inquiry into the\nlanguage and style of the several parts, and also into the social and\npolitical conditions which are implied by them, has led scholars to the\nconclusion that, at the most, a certain number of Solomon's wise sayings\nare included in the collection, but that he did not in any sense compose\nthe book. In fact, the statement in 1 Kings iv. 32, \"He _spake_ three\nthousand proverbs,\" implies that his utterances were recorded by others,\nand not written down by himself, and the heading to chap. xxv. of our\nbook suggests that, the \"men of Hezekiah\" collected the reputed sayings\nof Solomon from several sources, one of those sources being the\ncollection contained in the previous chapters.[1]\n\nThe opening words, then, of the book--\"The Proverbs of Solomon the son\nof David, King of Israel\"--are not to be taken as an assertion that\nall which follows flowed from Solomon's pen, but rather as a general\ndescription and key-note of the subject of the treatise. It is as if\nthe compiler wished to say, 'This is a compendium of those wise\nsayings current among us, the model and type of which may be found in\nthe proverbs attributed to the wisest of men, King Solomon.' That this\nis the way in which we must understand the title becomes plain when\nwe find contained in the book a passage described as \"the sayings of\nthe wise\" (xxiv. 23-34), a chapter distinctly entitled \"The Words of\nAgur,\" and another paragraph headed \"The Words of King Lemuel.\"\n\nLeaving aside the traditional view of the authorship, which the book\nitself shows to be misleading, the contents may be briefly delineated\nand characterized.\n\nThe main body of Proverbs is the collection which begins at chap. x.,\n\"The Proverbs of Solomon,\" and ends at xxii. 16. This collection has\ncertain distinct features which mark it off from all that precedes and\nfrom all that follows. It is, strictly speaking, a collection of\nproverbs, that is of brief, pointed sayings,--sometimes containing a\nsimilitude, but more generally consisting of a single antithetical moral\nsentiment,--such as spring into existence and pass current in every\nsociety of men. All these proverbs are identical in form: each is\nexpressed in a distich; the apparent exception in xix. 7 is to be\nexplained by the obvious fact that the third clause is the mutilated\nfragment of another proverb, which in the LXX. appears complete: \u1f41 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03af\u03b1\u03bd, \u1f43\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f10\u03c1\u03b5\u03b8\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c3\u03c9\u03b8\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9. As\nthe form is the same in all, so the general drift of their teaching is\nquite uniform; the morality inculcated is of no very lofty type; the\nmotives for right conduct are mainly prudential; there is no sense of\nmystery or wonder, no tendency to speculation or doubt; \"Be good, and\nyou will prosper; be wicked, and you will suffer,\" is the sum of the\nwhole. A few scattered precepts occur which seem to touch a higher level\nand to breathe a more spiritual air; and it is possible, as has been\nsuggested, that these were added by the author of chaps. i.-ix., when\nhe revised and published the compilation. Such a sentiment as xiv. 34\nwell accords with the utterance of Wisdom in viii. 15, 16. And the\nseries of proverbs which are grouped on the principle of their all\ncontaining the name of Jahveh, xv. 33-xvi. 7 (cf. xvi. 20, 33) seems to\nbe closely linked with the opening chapters of the book. Assuming the\nproverbs of this collection to spring from the same period, and to\nreflect the social conditions which then prevailed, we should say that\nit points to a time of comparative simplicity and purity, when the main\nindustry was that of tilling the soil, when the sayings of wise people\nwere valued by an unsophisticated community, when the family life was\npure, the wife honoured (xii. 4; xviii. 22; xix. 14), and parental\nauthority maintained, and when the king was still worthy of respect, the\nimmediate and obedient instrument of the Divine government (xxi. 1). The\nwhole collection seems to date from the earlier and happier times of the\nmonarchy.\n\nTo this collection is added an appendix (xxii. 17-xxiv. 22), which opens\nwith an exhortation addressed by the teacher to his pupil. The literary\nform of this appendix falls far behind the style of the main collection.\nThe terse and compact distich occurs rarely; most of the sayings are\nmore cumbrous and elaborate, and in one case there is a brief didactic\npoem carried through several verses (xxiii. 29-35). As the style of\ncomposition shows a decline, so the general conditions which form the\nbackground of the sayings are less happy. They seem to indicate a time\nof growing luxury; gluttony and drunkenness are the subjects of strong\ninvective. It appears that the poor are oppressed by the rich (xxii.\n22), and justice is not rightly administered, so that the innocent are\ncarried away into confinement (xxiv. 11, 12). There is political unrest,\ntoo, and the young have to be cautioned against the revolutionary or\nanarchical spirit (xxiv. 21). We are evidently brought down to a later\nperiod in Israel's melancholy history.\n\nAnother brief appendix follows (xxiv. 23-34), in which the distich\nform almost entirely disappears; it is remarkable as containing a\nlittle picture (30-34), which, like the much longer passage in vii.\n6-27, is presented as the personal observation of the writer.\n\nWe now pass on to an entirely new collection, ch. xxv.-xxix., which\nwas made, we are told, in the literary circle at the court of\nHezekiah, two hundred and fifty years or thereabouts after the time of\nSolomon. In this collection there is no uniformity of structure such\nas distinguished the proverbs of the first collection. Some distichs\noccur, but as often as not the proverb is drawn out into three, four,\nand in one case (xxv. 6, 7) five clauses; xxvii. 23-27 forms a brief\nconnected exhortation, which is a considerable departure from the\nsimple structure of the _mashal_, or proverb. The social condition\nreflected in these chapters is not very attractive; it is clear that\nthe people have had experience of a bad ruler (xxix. 2); we seem to\nhave hints of the many troubled experiences through which the monarchy\nof Israel passed--the divided rule, the injustice, the incapacity, the\noppression (xxviii. 2, 3, 12, 15, 16, 28). There is one proverb which\nparticularly recalls the age of Hezekiah, when the doom of the exile\nwas already being proclaimed by the prophets: \"As a bird that\nwandereth from her nest, so is a man that wandereth from his place\"\n(xxvii. 8). And it is perhaps characteristic of that troubled time,\nwhen the spiritual life was to be deepened by the experience of\nmaterial suffering and national disaster, that this collection\ncontains a proverb which might be almost the key-note of the New\nTestament morality (xxv. 21, 22).\n\nThe book closes with three quite distinct passages, which can only be\nregarded as appendices. According to one interpretation of the very\ndifficult words which stand at the head of chaps. xxx. and xxxi.,\nthese paragraphs would come from a foreign source; it has been thought\nthat the word translated \"oracle\" might be the name of the country\nmentioned in Gen. xxv. 14, Massa. But whether Jakeh and King Lemuel\nwere natives of this shadowy land or not, it is certain that the whole\ntone and drift of these two sections are alien to the general spirit\nof the book. There is something enigmatical in their style and\nartificial in their form, which would suggest a very late period in\nIsrael's literary history. And the closing passage, which describes\nthe virtuous woman, is distinguished by being an alphabetical\nacrostic, the verses beginning with the successive letters of the\nHebrew alphabet, a kind of composition which points to the dawn of\nRabbinical methods in literature. It is impossible to say when or how\nthese curious and interesting additions were made to our book, but\nscholars have generally recognized them as the product of the exile,\nif not the post-exile, period.\n\nNow, the two collections which have been described, with their several\nappendices, were at some favourable point in religious history,\npossibly in those happy days of Josiah when the Deuteronomic Law was\nnewly promulgated to the joyful nation, brought together, and, as we\nshould say now, edited, with an original introduction by an author\nwho, unknown to us by name, is among the greatest and noblest of\nBiblical writers. The first nine chapters of the book, which form the\nintroduction to the whole, strike a far higher note, appeal to nobler\nconceptions, and are couched in a much loftier style than the book\nitself. The writer bases his moral teaching on Divine authority rather\nthan on the utilitarian basis which prevails in most of the proverbs.\nWriting in a time when the temptations to a lawless and sensual life\nwere strong, appealing to the wealthier and more cultured youth of the\nnation, he proceeds in sweet and earnest discourse to woo his readers\nfrom the paths of vice into the Temple of Wisdom and Virtue. His\nmethod of contrasting the \"two ways,\" and exhorting men to shun the\none and choose the other, constantly reminds us of the similar appeals\nin the Book of Deuteronomy; but the touch is more graphic and more\nvivid; the gifts of the poet are employed in depicting the\nseven-pillared House of Wisdom and the deadly ways of Folly; and in\nthe wonderful passage which introduces Wisdom appealing to the sons of\nmen, on the ground of the part which she plays in the Creation and by\nthe throne of God, we recognize the voice of a prophet--a prophet,\ntoo, who holds one of the highest places in the line of those who\nforetold the coming of our Lord.\n\nImpossible as it has been in the Lectures to bring out the history and\nstructure of the book, it will greatly help the reader to bear in mind\nwhat has just been said; he will thus be prepared for the striking\ncontrast between the glowing beauty of the introduction and the\nsomewhat frigid precepts which occur so frequently among the Proverbs\nthemselves; he will be able to appreciate more fully the point which\nis from time to time brought into relief, that much of the teaching\ncontained in the book is crude and imperfect, of value for us only\nwhen it has been brought to the standard of our Lord's spirit,\ncorrected by His love and wisdom, or infused with His Divine life. And\nespecially as the reader approaches those strange chapters \"The\nSayings of Agur\" and \"The Sayings of King Lemuel\" he will be glad to\nremind himself of the somewhat loose relation in which they stand to\nthe main body of the work.\n\nIn few parts of the Scripture is there more need than in this of the\never-present Spirit to interpret and apply the written word, to\ndiscriminate and assort, to arrange and to combine, the varied\nutterances of the ages. Nowhere is it more necessary to distinguish\nbetween the inspired speech, which comes to the mind of prophet or poet\nas a direct oracle of God, and the speech which is the product of human\nwisdom, human observation, and human common sense, and is only in that\nsecondary sense inspired. In the book of Proverbs there is much which is\nrecorded for us by the wisdom of God, not because it is the expression\nof God's wisdom, but distinctly because it is the expression of man's\nwisdom; and among the lessons of the book is the sense of limitation and\nincompleteness which human wisdom leaves upon the mind.\n\nBut under the direction of the Holy Spirit, the reader may not only\nlearn from the Proverbs much practical counsel for the common duties\nof life; he may have, from time to time, rare and wonderful glimpses\ninto the heights and depths of God.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[1] _Cf._ xxv. 24 (xxi. 9), xxvi. 22 (xviii. 8), xxvii. 12 (xxii. 3),\nxxvii. 13 (xx. 16), xxvi. 13 (xxii. 13), xxvi. 15 (xix. 24), xxviii. 6\n(xix. 1), xxviii. 19 (xii. 11), xxix. 13 (xxii. 2); to which add\nxxvii. 15 (xix. 13), xxvii. 21 (xvii. 3), xxix. 22 (xv. 18).\n\n\n\n\n I.\n\n _THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM._\n\n \"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge.\"--PROV. i. 7.\n\n \"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom:\n And the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.\"\n --PROV. ix. 10.\n\n (_Cf._ Eccles. i. 14, \"To fear the Lord is the beginning of\n wisdom: and it was created with the faithful in the womb;\" also\n PS. cxi. 10.)\n\n\nThe book of Proverbs belongs to a group of works in the Hebrew\nliterature the subject of which is Wisdom. It is probably the earliest\nof them all, and may be regarded as the stem, of which they are the\nbranches. Without attempting to determine the relative ages of these\ncompositions, the ordinary reader can see the points of contact\nbetween Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, and a little careful study reveals\nthat the book of Job, though fuller and richer in every respect,\nbelongs to the same order. Outside the canon of Holy Scripture we\npossess two works which avowedly owe their suggestion and inspiration\nto our book, viz. \"The Wisdom of Jesus the Son of Sirach,\" commonly\ncalled Ecclesiasticus, a genuinely Hebrew product, and \"The Wisdom of\nSolomon,\" commonly called the Book of Wisdom, of much later origin,\nand exhibiting that fusion of Hebrew religious conceptions with Greek\nspeculation which prevailed in the Jewish schools of Alexandria.\n\nNow, the question at once occurs, What are we to understand by the\nWisdom which gives a subject and a title to this extensive field of\nliterature? and in what relation does it stand to the Law and the\nProphets, which form the great bulk of the Old Testament Scriptures?\n\nBroadly speaking, the Wisdom of the Hebrews covers the whole domain of\nwhat we should call Science and Philosophy. It is the consistent\neffort of the human mind to know, to understand, and to explain all\nthat exists. It is, to use the modern phrase, the search for truth.\nThe \"wise men\" were not, like Moses and the Prophets, inspired\nlegislators and heralds of God's immediate messages to mankind; but\nrather, like the wise men among the earlier Greeks, Thales, Solon,\nAnaximenes, or like the Sophists among the later Greeks, Socrates and\nhis successors, they brought all their faculties to bear in observing\nthe facts of the world and of life, and in seeking to interpret them,\nand then in the public streets or in appointed schools endeavoured to\ncommunicate their knowledge to the young. Nothing was too high for\ntheir inquiry: \"_That which is_ is far off, and exceeding deep; who\ncan find it out?\"[2] yet they tried to discover and to explain _that\nwhich is_. Nothing was too lowly for their attention; wisdom \"reaches\nfrom one end to another mightily, and sweetly orders all things.\"[3]\nTheir purpose finds expression in the words of Ecclesiastes, \"I turned\nabout, and my heart was set to know and to search out, and to seek\nwisdom and the reason of things.\"[4]\n\nBut by Wisdom is meant not merely the search, but also the discovery;\nnot merely a desire to know, but also a certain body of conceptions\nascertained and sufficiently formulated. To the Hebrew mind it would\nhave seemed meaningless to assert that Agnosticism was wisdom. It was\nsaved from this paradoxical conclusion by its firmly rooted faith in\nGod. Mystery might hang over the details, but one thing was plain: the\nwhole universe was an intelligent plan of God; the mind might be\nbaffled in understanding His ways, but that all existence is of His\nchoosing and His ordering was taken as the axiom with which all\nthought must start. Thus there is a unity in the Hebrew Wisdom; the\nunity is found in the thought of the Creator; all the facts of the\nphysical world, all the problems of human life, are referred to His\nmind; objective Wisdom is God's Being, which includes in its circle\neverything; and subjective wisdom, wisdom in the human mind, consists\nin becoming acquainted with His Being and all that is contained in it,\nand meanwhile in constantly admitting that He _is_, and yielding to\nHim the rightful place in our thought.\n\nBut while Wisdom embraces in her wide survey all things in heaven and\nin earth, there is one part of the vast field which makes a special\ndemand upon human interest. The proper study of mankind is man. Very\nnaturally the earliest subject to occupy human thought was human life,\nhuman conduct, human society. Or, to say the same thing in the\nlanguage of this book, while Wisdom was occupied with the whole\ncreation, she specially rejoiced in the habitable earth, and her\ndelight was with the sons of men.\n\nTheoretically embracing all subjects of human knowledge and\nreflection, the Wisdom of the Hebrew literature practically touches\nbut little on what we should now call Science, and even where\nattention was turned to the facts and laws of the material world, it\nwas mainly in order to borrow similitudes or illustrations for moral\nand religious purposes. King Solomon \"spake of trees, from the cedar\nthat is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the\nwall: he spake also of beasts, and of fowl, and of creeping things,\nand of fishes.\"[5] But the Proverbs which have actually come down to\nus under his name refer almost exclusively to principles of conduct or\nobservation of life, and seldom remind us of the earth, the sea, and\nthe sky, except as the dwelling-place of men, the house covered with\npaintings for his delight or filled with imagery for his instruction.\n\nBut there is a further distinction to be drawn, and in attempting to\nmake it plain we may determine the place of the Proverbs in the general\nscheme of the inspired writings. Human life is a sufficiently large\ntheme; it includes not only social and political questions, but the\nsearchings and speculations of philosophy, the truths and revelations of\nreligion. From one point of view, therefore, wisdom may be said to\nembrace the Law and the Prophets, and in a beautiful passage of\nEcclesiasticus[6] the whole covenant of Jehovah with Israel is treated\nas an emanation of wisdom from the mouth of the Most High. Wisdom was\nthe inspiration of those who shaped the law and built the Holy House, of\nthose who ministered in the courts of the Temple, and of those who were\nmoved by the Holy One to chide the faults of the people, to call them to\nrepentance, to denounce the doom of their sin, and proclaim the glad\npromise of deliverance. Again, from this large point of view Wisdom\ncould be regarded as the Divine Philosophy, the system of thought and\nthe body of beliefs which would furnish the explanation of life, and\nwould root all the decisions of ethics in eternal principles of truth.\nAnd this function of Wisdom is presented with singular beauty and power\nin the eighth chapter of our book, where, as we shall see, the mouth of\nWisdom shows that her concern with men is derived from her relation with\nthe Creator and from her comprehension of His great architectural design\nin the construction of the world.\n\nNow, the wisdom which finds expression in the bulk of the Proverbs\nmust be clearly distinguished from wisdom in this exalted sense. It is\nnot the wisdom of the Law and the Prophets; it moves in a much lower\nplane. It is not the wisdom of chap. viii., a philosophy which\nharmonizes human life with the laws of nature by constantly connecting\nboth with God.\n\nThe wisdom of the Proverbs differs from the wisdom of the Prophets in\nthis, that it is derived not directly, but mediately from God. No\nspecial mind is directed to shape these sayings; they grow up in the\ncommon mind of the people, and they derive their inspiration from\nthose general qualities which made the whole nation in the midst of\nwhich they had their birth an inspired nation, and gave to all the\nliterature of the nation a peculiar and inimitable tone. The wisdom of\nthe Proverbs differs, too, from the wisdom of these introductory\nchapters in much the same way; it is a difference which might be\nexpressed by a familiar use of words; it is a distinction between\nPhilosophy and Proverbial Philosophy, a distinction, let us say,\nbetween Divine Philosophy and Proverbial Philosophy.\n\nThe Proverbs are often shrewd, often edifying, sometimes almost\nevangelical in their sharp ethical insight; but we shall constantly be\nreminded that they do not come with the overbearing authority of the\nprophetic \"Thus saith the Lord.\" And still more shall we be reminded\nhow far they lag behind the standard of life and the principles of\nconduct which are presented to us in Christ Jesus.\n\nWhat has just been said seems to be a necessary preliminary to the\nstudy of the Proverbs, and it is only by bearing it in mind that we\nshall be able to appreciate the difference in tone between the nine\nintroductory chapters and the main body of the book; nor should we\nventure, perhaps, apart from the consideration which has been urged to\nexercise our critical sense in the study of particular sayings, and to\ninsist at all points on bringing the teaching of the wise men of old\nto the standard and test of Him who is Himself made unto us Wisdom.\n\nBut now to turn to our text. We must think of wisdom in the largest\npossible sense, as including not only ethics, but philosophy, and not\nonly philosophy, but religion; yes, and as embracing in her vast\nsurvey the whole field of natural science, when it is said that _the\nfear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom_; we must think of\nknowledge in its fullest and most liberal extent when we read that\n_the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge_.\n\nIn this pregnant truth we may distinguish three ideas: _first_, fear,\nor, as we should probably say, reverence, is the pre-requisite of all\nscientific, philosophical, or religious truth; _second_, no real\nknowledge or wisdom can be attained which does not start with the\nrecognition of God; and then, _thirdly_, the expression is not only \"the\nfear of God,\" which might refer only to the Being that is presupposed in\nany intelligent explanation of phenomena, but the \"fear of the Lord,\"\n_i.e._ of Jahveh, the self-existent One, who has revealed Himself in a\nspecial way to men as \"I AM WHAT I AM;\" and it is therefore hinted that\nno satisfactory philosophy of human life and history can be constructed\nwhich does not build upon the fact of revelation.\n\nWe may proceed to dwell upon these three thoughts in order.\n\n1. Most religious people are willing to admit that \"the fear of the\nLord is a fountain of life, to depart from the snares of death.\"[7]\nBut what is not always observed is that the same attitude is\nnecessary in the intellectual sphere. And yet the truth may be\nillustrated in a quarter which to some of us may be surprising. It is\na notable fact that Modern Science had its origin in two deeply\nreligious minds. Bacon and Descartes were both stirred to their\ninvestigation of physical facts by their belief in the Divine Being\nwho was behind them. To mention only our great English thinker,\nBacon's _Novum Organum_ is the most reverent of works, and no one ever\nrealized more keenly than he that, as Coleridge used to say, \"there is\nno chance of truth at the goal where there is not a childlike humility\nat the starting-point.\"\n\nIt is sometimes said that this note of reverence is wanting in the great\nscientific investigators of our day. So far as this is true, it is\nprobable that their conclusions will be vitiated, and we are often\nimpressed by the feeling that the unmannerly self-assertion and\noverweening self-confidence of many scientific writers augur ill for the\ntruth of their assertions. But, on the other hand, it must be remembered\nthat the greatest men of science in our own, as in all other ages, are\ndistinguished by a singular simplicity, and by a reverence which\ncommunicates itself to their readers. What could be more reverent than\nDarwin's way of studying the coral-insect or the earth-worm? He bestowed\non these humble creatures of the ocean and of the earth the most patient\nand loving observation. And his success in understanding and explaining\nthem was in proportion to the respect which he showed to them. The\ncoral-diver has no reverence for the insect; he is bent only on gain,\nand he consequently can tell us nothing of the coral reef and its\ngrowth. The gardener has no reverence for the worm; he cuts it\nruthlessly with his spade, and flings it carelessly aside; accordingly\nhe is not able to tell us of its lowly ministries and of the part it\nplays in the fertilization of the soil. It was Darwin's reverence which\nproved to be the beginning of knowledge in these departments of\ninvestigation; and if it was only the reverence of the naturalist, the\ntruth is illustrated all the better, for his knowledge of the unseen and\nthe eternal dwindled away, just as his perception of beauty in\nliterature and art declined, in proportion as he suffered his spirit of\nreverence towards these things to die.\n\nThe gates of Knowledge and Wisdom are closed, and they are opened only\nto the knock of Reverence. Without reverence, it is true, men may gain\nwhat is called worldly knowledge and worldly wisdom; but these are far\nremoved from truth, and experience often shows us how profoundly\nignorant and how incurably blind pushing and successful people are,\nwhose knowledge is all turned to delusion, and whose wisdom shifts\nround into folly, precisely because the great pre-requisite was\nwanting. The seeker after real knowledge will have little about him\nwhich suggests worldly success. He is modest, self-forgetful, possibly\nshy; he is absorbed in a disinterested pursuit, for he has seen afar\nthe high, white star of Truth; at it he gazes, to it he aspires.\nThings which only affect him personally make but little impression on\nhim; things which affect the truth move, agitate, excite him. A bright\nspirit is on ahead, beckoning to him. The colour mounts to his cheek,\nthe nerves thrill, and his soul is filled with rapture, when the form\nseems to grow clearer and a step is gained in the pursuit. When a\ndiscovery is made he almost forgets that he is the discoverer; he\nwill even allow the credit of it to pass over to another, for he would\nrather rejoice in the truth itself than allow his joy to be tinged\nwith a personal consideration.\n\nYes, this modest, self-forgetful, reverent mien is the first condition\nof winning Truth, who must be approached on bended knee, and\nrecognized with a humble and a prostrate heart. There is no gainsaying\nthe fact that this fear, this reverence, is the beginning of wisdom.\n\n2. We pass now to an assertion bolder than the last, that _there can\nbe no true knowledge or wisdom which does not start from the\nrecognition of God_. This is one of those contentions, not uncommon in\nthe Sacred Writings, which appear at first sight to be arbitrary\ndogmas, but prove on closer inquiry to be the authoritative statements\nof reasoned truth. We are face to face, in our day, with an avowedly\natheistic philosophy. According to the Scriptures, an atheistic\nphilosophy is not a philosophy at all, but only a folly: \"The fool\nhath said in his heart, There is no God.\" We have thinkers among us\nwho deem it their great mission to get rid of the very idea of God, as\none which stands in the way of spiritual, social, and political\nprogress. According to the Scriptures, to remove the idea of God is to\ndestroy the key of knowledge and to make any consistent scheme of\nthought impossible. Here certainly is a clear and sharp issue.\n\nNow, if this universe of which we form a part is a thought of the Divine\nmind, a work of the Divine hand, a scene of Divine operations, in which\nGod is realizing, by slow degrees, a vast spiritual purpose, it is\nself-evident that no attempt to understand the universe can be\nsuccessful which leaves this, its fundamental idea, out of account; as\nwell might one attempt to understand a picture while refusing to\nrecognize that the artist had any purpose to express in painting it, or\nindeed that there was any artist at all. So much every one will admit.\n\nBut if the universe is not the work of a Divine mind, or the effect of a\nDivine will; if it is merely the working of a blind, irrational Force,\nwhich realizes no end, because it has no end to realize; if we, the\nfeeble outcome of a long, unthinking evolution, are the first creatures\nthat ever _thought_, and the only creatures who now _think_, in all the\nuniverse of Being; it follows that of a universe so irrational there can\nbe no true knowledge for rational beings, and of a scheme of things so\nunwise there can be no philosophy or wisdom. No person who reflects can\nfail to recognize this, and this is the truth which is asserted in the\ntext. It is not necessary to maintain that without admitting God we\ncannot have knowledge of a certain number of empirical facts; but that\ndoes not constitute a philosophy or a wisdom. It is necessary to\nmaintain that without admitting God we cannot have any explanation of\nour knowledge, or any verification of it; without admitting God our\nknowledge can never come to any roundness or completeness such as might\njustify our calling it by the name of Wisdom.\n\nOr to put the matter in a slightly different way: a thinking mind can\nonly conceive the universe as the product of thought; if the universe\nis not the product of thought it can never be intelligible to a\nthinking mind, and can therefore never be in a true sense the object\nof knowledge; to deny that the universe is the product of thought is\nto deny the possibility of wisdom.\n\nWe find, then, that it is not a dogma, but a truth of reason, that\nknowledge must start with the recognition of God.\n\n3. But now we come to an assertion which is the boldest of all, and\nfor the present we shall have to be content to leave behind many who\nhave readily followed us so far. That we are bound to recognize \"the\nLord,\" that is the God of Revelation, and bow down in reverence before\nHim, as the first condition of true wisdom, is just the truth which\nmultitudes of men who claim to be Theists are now strenuously denying.\nMust we be content to leave the assertion merely as a dogma enunciated\non the authority of Scripture?\n\nSurely they, at any rate, who have made the beginning of wisdom in the\nfear of the Lord should be able to show that the possession which they\nhave gained is actually wisdom, and does not rest upon an irrational\ndogma, incapable of proof.\n\nWe have already recognized at the outset that the Wisdom of this book\nis not merely an intellectual account of the reason of things, but\nalso more specifically an explanation of the moral and spiritual life.\nIt may be granted that so far as the Intellect alone claims\nsatisfaction it is enough to posit the bare idea of God as the\ncondition of all rational existence. But when men come to recognize\nthemselves as Spiritual Beings, with conceptions of right and wrong,\nwith strong affections, with soaring aspirations, with ideas which lay\nhold of Eternity, they find themselves quite incapable of being\nsatisfied with the bare idea of God; the soul within them pants and\nthirsts for a _living_ God. An intellectual love of God might satisfy\npurely intellectual creatures; but to meet the needs of man as he is,\nGod must be a God that manifests His own personality, and does not\nleave Himself without a witness to His rational creature. A wisdom,\nthen, that is to truly appraise and rightly guide the life of man must\nstart with the recognition of a God whose peculiar designation is the\nSelf-existent One, and who makes Himself known to man by that name;\nthat is, it must start with the \"fear of _the Lord_.\"[8]\n\nHow cogent this necessity is appears directly the alternative is stated.\nIf Reason assures us of a God that made us, a First Cause of our\nexistence and of our being what we are; if Reason also compels us to\nrefer to Him our moral nature, our desire of holiness, and our capacity\nof love, what could be a greater tax on faith, and even a greater strain\non the reason, than to declare that, notwithstanding, God has not\nrevealed Himself as the Lord of our life and the God of our salvation,\nas the authority of righteousness or the object of our love? When the\nquestion is stated in this way it appears that apart from a veritable\nand trustworthy revelation there can be no wisdom which is capable of\nreally dealing with human life, as the life of spiritual and moral\ncreatures; for a God who does not reveal Himself would be devoid of the\nhighest qualities of the human spirit, and the belief in a God who is\ninferior to man, a Creator who is less than the creature, could furnish\nno foundation for an intelligible system of thought.\n\nOur text now stands before us, not as the unsupported deliverance of\ndogma, but as a condensed utterance of the human reason. We see that\nstarting from the conception of Wisdom as the sum of that which is,\nand the sufficient explanation of all things, as including therefore\nnot only the laws of nature, but also the laws of human life, both\nspiritual and moral, we can make no step towards the acquisition of\nwisdom without a sincere and absolute reverence, a recognition of God\nas the Author of the universe which we seek to understand, and as the\nPersonal Being, the Self-existent One, who reveals Himself under that\nsignificant name \"I AM,\" and declares His will to our waiting hearts.\n\"To whom hath the root of Wisdom been revealed? or who hath known her\nwise counsels? There is one wise, and greatly to be feared, the Lord\nsitting upon His throne.\"[9]\n\nIn this way is struck the key-note of the Jewish \"Wisdom.\" It is\nprofoundly true; it is stimulating and helpful. But it may not be out\nof place to remind ourselves even thus early that the idea on which we\nhave been dwelling comes short of the higher truth which has been\ngiven us in Christ. It hardly entered into the mind of a Hebrew\nthinker to conceive that \"fear of the Lord\" might pass into full,\nwhole-hearted, and perfect love. And yet it may be shown that this was\nthe change effected when Christ was of God \"made unto us Wisdom;\" it\nis not that the \"fear,\" or reverence, becomes less, but it is that the\nfear is swallowed up in the larger and more gracious sentiment. For us\nwho have received Christ as our Wisdom, it has become almost a truism\nthat we must love in order to know. We recognize that the causes of\nthings remain hidden from us until our hearts have been kindled into\nan ardent love towards the First Cause, God Himself: we find that even\nour processes of reasoning are faulty until they are touched with the\nDivine tenderness, and rendered sympathetic by the infusion of a\nloftier passion. And it is quite in accordance with this fuller truth\nthat both science and philosophy have made genuine progress only in\nChristian lands and under Christian influences. Where the touch of\nChrist's hand has been most decisively felt, in Germany, in England,\nin America, and where consequently Wisdom has attained a nobler, a\nricher, a more tender significance, there, under fostering powers,\nwhich are not the less real because they are not always acknowledged,\nthe great discoveries have been made, the great systems of thought\nhave been framed, and the great counsels of conduct have gradually\nassumed substance and authority. And from a wide observation of facts\nwe are able to say, \"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom\nand knowledge;\" yes, but the Wisdom of God has led us on from fear to\nlove, and in the Love of the Lord is found the fulfilment of that\nwhich trembled into birth through fear.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[2] Eccl. vii. 24.\n\n[3] Wisdom viii. 1.\n\n[4] Eccl. vii. 25.\n\n[5] 1 Kings iv. 33.\n\n[6] In this passage Wisdom is represented saying--\n\n \"I from the mouth of the Highest came forth, and as vapour I veiled\n the earth;\n I in the heights pitched my tent, my throne in a pillar of cloud;\n I alone circled the ring of heaven, and walked in the depths of\n abysses;\n In the waves of the sea, and in all the earth, and in every people\n and race I obtained a possession;\n With all these I sought a rest (saying), In whose inheritance shall\n I settle?\n Then came to me the command of the Creator of all; my Creator\n pitched my tent; and He said,\n In Jacob pitch thy tent, in Israel find thine inheritance.\n Before the world was, in the beginning He created me, and while the\n world lasts I shall not fail:\n In the holy tent before Him I offered service, and thus in Sion I\n was planted;\n In the beloved city He likewise made me rest, and in Israel is my\n power;\n And I took root in a people that is glorified, in a portion of the\n Lord His inheritance.\"--ECCLES. xxiv. 3.\n\n[7] Prov. xiv. 27.\n\n[8] It may be well to remind the reader who is too familiar with the\nname \"the Lord\" to consider its significance; that \"the Lord\" is the\nEnglish translation of that peculiar name, Jahveh, by which God\nrevealed Himself to Moses, and the term Jahveh seems to convey one of\ntwo ideas, existence or the cause of existence, according to the\nvowel-pointing of the consonants \u05d9\u05d4\u05d5\u05d4.\n\n[9] Eccles. i. 6, 8.\n\n\n\n\n II.\n\n _WISDOM AS THE GUIDE OF CONDUCT._\n\n \"To deliver thee from the way of the evil man....\n To deliver thee from the strange woman.\"\n --PROV. ii. 12_a_-16_a_.\n\n\nWisdom is concerned, as we have seen, with the whole universe of fact,\nwith the whole range of thought; she surveys and orders all processes\nof nature. We might say of her,\n\n \"She doth preserve the stars from wrong,\n And the most ancient heavens by her are fresh and strong.\"\n\nBut while she is occupied in these high things, she is no less\nattentive to the affairs of human life, and her delight is to order\nhuman conduct, not despising even the smallest detail of that which is\ndone by men under the sun. Side by side with physical laws, indeed\noften intertwined with them, appear the moral laws which issue from\nthe lively oracles of Wisdom. There is not one authority for natural\nphenomena, and another for mental and moral phenomena. As we should\nsay now, Truth is one: Science is one: Law is one. The laws of the\nphysical order, the laws of the speculative reason, the laws of\npractical life, form a single system, come from the sole mind of God,\nand are the impartial interests of Wisdom.\n\nAs the great authority on _Conduct_, Wisdom is pictured standing in the\nplaces where men congregate, where the busy hum of human voices and the\nrush of hurried feet make it necessary for her to lift up her voice in\norder to gain attention. With words of winsome wooing--\"for wisdom shall\nenter into thy heart, and knowledge shall be pleasant unto thy\nsoul\"[10]--or with loud threats and stern declarations of truth--\"the\nbacksliding of the simple shall slay them, and the prosperity of fools\nshall destroy them\"[11]--she tries to win us, while we are yet young, to\nher paths of pleasantness and her ways of peace. Her object is to\ndeliver youth, (1) from the evil man, and (2) from the evil woman, or in\nthe most comprehensive way \"to deliver us from evil.\"\n\nFirst of all, we may spend a few moments in noting the particular\ntemptations to which men were exposed in the days when these chapters\nwere written.[12] There was a temptation to join a troop of banditti,\nand to obtain a living by acts of highway robbery which would\nfrequently result in murder; and there was the temptation to the sin\nwhich we call specifically Impurity, a temptation which arose not so\nmuch from the existence of a special class of fallen women, as from\nthe shocking looseness and voluptuousness of married women in\nwell-to-do circumstances.\n\nSociety under the kings never seems to have reached anything approaching\nto an ordered security. We cannot point to any period when the mountain\nroads, even in the neighbourhood of the capital, were not haunted by\nthieves, who lurked in the rocks or the copses, and fell upon passing\ntravellers, to strip and to rob, and if need be to kill them. When such\nthings are done, when such things are even recounted in sensational\nliterature, there are multitudes of young men who are stirred to a\ndebased ambition; a spurious glory encircles the brow of the adventurer\nwho sets the laws of society at defiance; and without any personal\nentreaty the foolish youth is disposed to leave the quiet ways of\nindustry for the stimulating excitement and the false glamour of the\nbandit life. The reckless plottings of the robbers are described in\nchap. i. 11-14. The character of the men themselves is given in iv. 16,\n17: \"They sleep not, except they have done mischief; and their sleep is\ntaken away, unless they cause some to fall. For they eat the bread of\nwickedness, and drink the wine of violence.\" The proverb in xxiv. 15 is\naddressed to such an one: \"Lay not wait, O wicked man, against the\nhabitation of the righteous; spoil not his resting-place.\"\n\nThe rebukes of the prophets--Isaiah, Micah, Jeremiah--may have a wider\napplication, but they seem at any rate to include this highwayman's\nlife. \"Your hands are full of blood\" is the charge of Isaiah;[13] and\nagain, \"Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed innocent\nblood; their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity.\"[14] \"They build up Zion\nwith blood,\" says Micah indignantly.[15] Jeremiah cries with still more\nvehemence to his generation, \"Also in thy skirts is found the blood of\nthe souls of the innocent poor;\"[16] and again, \"But thine eyes and\nthine heart are not but for thy covetousness, and for to shed innocent\nblood, and for oppression, and for violence, to do it.\"[17]\n\nWe are to conceive, then, the young and active men of the day\nconstantly tempted to take these unhallowed paths which seemed to\npromise wealth; the sinners were always ready to whisper in the ears\nof those whose life was tedious and unattractive,[18] \"Cast in thy lot\namong us; we will all have one purse.\" The moral sense of the\ncommunity was not sufficiently developed to heartily condemn this life\nof iniquity; as in the eighteenth century among ourselves, so in\nIsrael when this book was written, there existed in the minds of the\npeople at large a lurking admiration for the bold and dashing\n\"gentlemen of the way.\"\n\nThe other special temptation of that day is described in our book with\nremarkable realism, and there is no false shame in exposing the paths\nof death into which it leads. In v. 3-20 the subject is treated in the\nplainest way: \"Her latter end is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a\ntwo-edged sword. Her feet go down to death; her steps take hold on\nSheol.\" It is taken up again in vi. 24-35: \"Can a man take fire in his\nbosom, and his clothes not be burned? or can one walk upon hot coals,\nand his feet not be scorched?\" The guilty man who has been betrayed by\nthe glitter and beauty, by the honeyed words and the soft entreaties,\n\"shall get wounds and dishonour, and his reproach shall not be wiped\naway.\"\n\nIn chap. vii. 5-27 a most vivid picture is drawn of the foolish youth\nseduced into evil; there he is seen going as an ox to the slaughter,\nas one in fetters, \"till an arrow strike through his liver; as a bird\nhasteth to the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life.\" And\nthe Introduction closes with a delineation of Folly, which is\nobviously meant as a counterpart to the delineation of Wisdom in chap.\ni. 20, etc.[19] The miserable woman sits at the door of her house, on\na seat in the high places of the city; with seductive words she wins\nthe foolish passers-by to enter her doors: \"the dead are there; her\nguests are in the depths of Sheol.\"\n\nIt is a temptation which in many varying forms has always beset human\nlife. No small part of the danger is that this evil, above all others,\ngrows in silence, and yet seems to be aggravated by publicity. The\npreacher cannot speak plainly about it, and even writers shrink from\ntouching the subject. We can, however, be thankful that the book,\nwhich is God's book rather than man's, knows nothing of our false\nmodesty and conventional delicacy: it speaks out not only boldly, but\nminutely; it is so explicit that no man who with a prayerful heart\nwill meditate upon its teachings need fall into the pitfall--that\npitfall which seems to grow even more subtle and more seductive as\ncivilization advances, and as the great cities absorb a larger\nproportion of the population; or if he fall he can only admit with\nshame and remorse, \"I have hated instruction, and my heart despised\nreproof. Neither have I obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor inclined\nmine ear to them that instructed me. I was well-nigh in all evil in\nthe midst of the congregation and assembly.\"[20]\n\nIn the second place, we must try to look at these temptations in the\nlight of our own day, in order that we may listen to the voice of\nwisdom, not in the antiquarian, but rather in the practical spirit.\nThe second temptation exists amongst us almost unchanged, except that\nthe vast accumulation and concentration of vice in great cities has\nprovided that mournful band of women whom a great moralist has\ndesignated the Vestal Virgins of Humanity, consecrated to shame and\nruin in order to preserve unsullied the sacred flame of the domestic\naltar. The result of this terrible development in evil is that the\ndeadly sin has become safer for the sinner, and in certain circles of\nsociety has become recognized as at any rate a venial fault, if not an\ninnocent necessity. It is well to read these chapters again with our\neye on the modern evil, and to let the voice of Wisdom instruct us\nthat the life is not the less blighted because the body remains\nunpunished, and vice is not the less vicious because, instead of\nruining others for its gratification, it feeds only on those who are\nalready ruined. If the Wisdom of the Old Testament is obscure on this\npoint, the Wisdom of the New Testament gives no uncertain sound.\nInterpreting the doctrine of our book, as Christians are bound to do,\nby the light of Christ, we can be left in no doubt that to all forms\nof impurity applies the one principle which is here applied to a\nspecific form: \"He doeth it that would destroy his own soul.\" \"His own\niniquities shall take the wicked, and he shall be holden with the\ncords of his sin.\"[21]\n\nBut with regard to the first of the two temptations, it may be urged\nthat in our settled and ordered society it is no longer felt. We are not\ntempted to become highwaymen, nor even to embark on the career of a\nprofessional thief. We are disposed to skim lightly over the warning,\nunder the impression that it does not in any way apply to us. But stop a\nmoment! Wisdom spoke in the first instance direct to the vice of her\nday, but she gave to her precepts a more general colouring, which makes\nit applicable to all time, when she said, \"So are the ways of every one\nthat is greedy of gain; it taketh away the life of the owners\nthereof.\"[22] The specific form of greediness described in this first\nchapter may have become obsolete among decent and respectable people;\nbut that greed of gain which showed itself then in a particular form is\nalive to-day. Dressed in a different garb, it presents temptations of a\nslightly different order; but the spirit is the same, the issue, the\nfatal issue, is the same. It is a melancholy fact that in the most\nprogressive and civilized communities the greed of gain, instead of\ndying out, becomes aggravated, acquires a dominant influence, and sways\nmen as the master passion. The United States, a country so bountiful to\nher children that a settled peace might be supposed to pervade the life\nof men who can never be in fear of losing the necessaries, or even the\ncomforts, of life, are inflamed with a fierce and fiery passion. Society\nis one perpetual turmoil; life is lived at the highest conceivable\npressure, because each individual is seeking to gain more and ever more.\nIn our own country, though society is less fluid, and ancient custom\nchecks the action of disturbing forces, the passion for gain becomes\nevery year a more exacting tyranny over the lives of the people. We are\nengaged in a pitiless warfare, which we dignify by the name of\ncompetition; the race is to the swift, and the battle to the strong. It\nbecomes almost a recognized principle that man is at liberty to prey\nupon his fellow man. The Eternal Law of Wisdom declares that we should\ntreat others as we treat ourselves, and count the interests of others\ndear as our own; it teaches us that we should show a tender\nconsideration for the weak, and be always ready, at whatever cost, to\nsuccour the helpless. But competition says, \"No; you must try rather to\nbeat the weak out of the field; you must leave no device untried to\nreduce the strength of the strong, and to divert into your own hands the\ngrist which was going to your neighbour's mill.\" This conflict between\nman and man is untempered by pity, because it is supposed to be\nunavoidable as death itself. In a community so constituted, where\nbusiness has fallen into such ways, while the strong may hold their own\nwith a clean hand, the weaker are tempted to make up by cunning what\nthey lack in strength, and the weakest are ground as the nether\nmillstone. The pitilessness of the whole system is appalling, the more\nso because it is accepted as necessary.\n\nThe Bandit life has here emerged in a new form. \"Come, let us lay wait\nfor blood,\" says the Sweater or the Fogger, \"let us lurk privily for\nthe innocent without cause; let us swallow them up alive as Sheol, and\nwhole as those that go down into the pit.\"[23] The Bandit is an\noutcast from society, and his hand is turned against the rich. The\nSweater is an outcast from society, and his hand is turned against\nthe poor. By \"laying wait\" he is able to demand, from weak men, women,\nand children, the long hours of the day for unceasing toil, and the\nbitter hours of the night for hunger and cold, until the gaunt\ncreatures, worn with weariness and despair, find a solace in\ndebauchery or an unhallowed rest in death.\n\nNow, though the temptation to become a sweater may not affect many or\nany of us, I should like to ask, Are there not certain trades or\noccupations, into which some of us are tempted to enter, perfectly\nhoneycombed with questionable practices? Under the pretext that it is\nall \"business,\" are not things done which can only be described as\npreying upon the innocence or the stupidity of our neighbours? Sometimes\nthe promise is, \"We shall find all precious substance, we shall fill our\nhouses with spoil.\"[24] Sometimes the simple object is to escape\nstarvation. But there is the miserable temptation to sacrifice probity\nand honour, to stifle compassion and thought, in order to bring into our\nown coffers the coveted wealth. And is there not, I ask, a similar\ntemptation lurking in a thousand haunts more or less respectable--a\ntemptation which may be described as the spirit of _gambling_? The\nessence of all gambling, whether it be called speculative business or\ngaming, in stock and share markets or in betting clubs and turf rings,\nis simply the attempt to trade on the supposed ignorance or misfortune\nof others, and to use superior knowledge or fortune for the purpose, not\nof helping, but of robbing them. It may be said that we do it in\nself-defence, and that others would do the same by us; yes, just as the\nbandit says to the young man, \"We do not want to injure the traveller\nyonder; we want his purse. He will try to shoot you; you only shoot him\nin self-defence.\" It is the subtlety of all gambling that constitutes\nits great danger. It seems to turn on the principle that we may do what\nwe like with our own; it forgets that its object is to get hold of what\nbelongs to others, not by honest work or service rendered, but simply by\ncunning and deception.\n\nIt is, then, only too easy to recognize, in many varied shapes of\nso-called business and of so-called pleasure, \"the ways of those who\nare greedy of gain.\" Wisdom has need to cry aloud in our streets, in\nthe chief place of concourse, in the city, in exchanges and marts. Her\nwarning to the young man must be explicit and solemn: \"My son, if\nsinners entice thee, consent thou not.\" The bandit life still has its\nattractions, though its methods are changed; it plays upon the idle\nimagination: it promises freedom from laborious and distasteful toil;\nbut it says nothing of the ways of death into which it leads.\n\nNow, in the third place, we come to the protest of Divine Wisdom\nagainst these evil ways in which men are tempted to walk. They are,\nshe says, folly of the most egregious kind. There may be an apparent\nsuccess or a momentary gratification; \"precious substance may be\namassed, and houses may be filled with spoil;\" but the people who are\nbetrayed into these wicked courses \"shall be cut off from the\nland.\"[25] They \"lay wait for their own blood;\" greed \"taketh away the\nlife of the owner thereof;\"[26] and as for the strange woman, that\nflattereth with her words, \"none that go unto her return again.\"[27]\n\nIt needs but a clear vision or a little wise reflection to see the\ndestructive tendency of Evil. It is the commonest fact of experience\nthat where \"vice goes before, vengeance follows after.\" Why do men not\nperceive it? There is a kind of fatuity which blinds the eyes. The\nempty-headed bird sees the net spread out before its eyes;[28] many of\nits fellows have already been caught; the warning seems obvious\nenough, but it is all \"in vain;\" eager to get the bait--the dainty\nmorsel lying there, easily obtainable--the foolish creature\napproaches, looks, argues that it is swifter and stronger than its\npredecessors, who were but weaklings! it will wheel down, take the\nfood, and be gone long before the flaps of the net can spring\ntogether. In the same way the empty-headed youth, warned by the\nexperience of elders and the tender entreaties of father and mother,\nassured that these ways of unjust gain are ways of ruin, is yet rash\nenough to enter the snare in order to secure the coveted morsel. And\nwhat is the issue? Setting at nought all the counsel of Wisdom, he\nwould none of her reproof.[29] A momentary success led to wilder\ninfatuation, and convinced him that he was right, and Wisdom was\nwrong; but his prosperity destroyed him. Soon in the shame of exposure\nand the misery of remorse he discovers his mistake. Or, worse still,\nno exposure comes; success continues to his dying day, and he leaves\nhis substance to his heirs; \"he eats of the fruits of his own way, and\nis filled with his own devices,\"[30] but none the less he walks in\nthe ways of darkness--in paths that are crooked and perverse--and he\nis consumed with inward misery. The soul within is hard, and dry, and\ndead; it is insensible to all feelings except feelings of torture. It\nis a life so dark and wretched, that when a sudden light is thrown\nupon its hidden secrets men are filled with astonishment and dismay,\nthat such things could exist underneath that quiet surface.\n\nFinally, note these two characteristics of the Divine Wisdom: (1) she\nis found in her fulness only by diligent seekers; and (2) rejected,\nshe turns into the most scornful and implacable foe.\n\nShe is to be sought as silver or hidden treasure is sought. The search\nmust be inspired by that eagerness of desire and passion of resolve\nwith which avarice seeks for money. No faculty must be left\nunemployed: the _ear_ is to be inclined to catch the first low sounds\nof wisdom; the _heart_ is to be applied to understand what is heard;\nthe very _voice_ is to be lifted up in earnest inquiry. It is a\nwell-known fact that the fear of the Lord and the knowledge of God are\nnot fruits which grow on every wayside bush, to be plucked by every\nidle passer-by, to be dropped carelessly and trodden underfoot.\nWithout seriousness and devotion, without protracted and unflagging\ntoil, the things of God are not to be attained. You must be up\nbetimes; you must be on your knees early; you must lay open the book\nof Wisdom, pore over its pages, and diligently turn its leaves,\nmeditating on its sayings day and night. The kingdom of God and His\nrighteousness must be _sought_, yes, and sought first, sought\nexclusively, as the one important object of desire. That easy\nindifference, that lazy optimism--\"it will all come right in the\nend\"--that habit of delay in deciding, that inclination to postpone\nthe eternal realities to vanishing shadows, will be your ruin. The\ntime may come when you will call, and there will be no answer, when\nyou will seek diligently, but shall not find. Then in the day of your\ncalamity, when your fear cometh, what a smile of scorn will seem to be\non Wisdom's placid brow, and around her eloquent lips! what derision\nwill seem to ring in the well-remembered counsels which you\nrejected.[31] O tide in the affairs of men! O tide in the affairs of\nGod! We are called to stand by death-beds, to look into anguished eyes\nwhich know that it is too late. The bandit of commercial life passes\ninto that penal servitude which only death will end; what agony breaks\nout and hisses in his remorse! The wretched victim of lust passes from\nthe house of his sin down the path which inclines unto death; how\nterrible is that visage which just retains smirched traces that purity\nonce was there! The voice rings down the doleful road, \"If I had only\nbeen wise, if I had given ear, wisdom might have entered even into my\nheart, knowledge might have been pleasant even to my soul!\"\n\nAnd wisdom still cries to _us_, \"Turn you at my reproof: behold, I will\npour out my spirit unto you, I will make known my words unto you.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[10] Prov. ii. 10.\n\n[11] Prov. i. 32.\n\n[12] We may remind ourselves that, according to the most probable\nconjecture, this introduction to Solomon's Proverbs (chaps, i.-ix.)\ndates from the reign of Josiah (640-609 B.C.).\n\n[13] Isa. i. 15.\n\n[14] Isa. lix. 7.\n\n[15] Micah iii. 10.\n\n[16] Jer. ii. 34.\n\n[17] Jer. xxii. 17.\n\n[18] Prov. i. 14. Compare the proverb, xvi. 29, \"A man of violence\nenticeth his neighbour, and leadeth him in a way that is not good.\"\n\n[19] Prov. ix. 13-18.\n\n[20] Prov. v. 12-14.\n\n[21] Prov. vi. 32 and v. 22.\n\n[22] Prov. i. 19.\n\n[23] A dog-chain sold in London at one shilling and threepence was found\nto have cost, for materials twopence, for labour three-farthings.\n(Evidence before Lord Dunraven's Commission on the Sweating System).\n\n[24] See Prov. i. 13.\n\n[25] Prov. ii. 22.\n\n[26] Prov. i. 19.\n\n[27] Prov. ii. 19.\n\n[28] Prov. i. 17.\n\n[29] Prov. i. 25.\n\n[30] Prov. i. 31, 32.\n\n[31] Prov. i. 24-31.\n\n\n\n\n III.\n\n _THE EARTHLY REWARDS OF WISDOM._\n\n PROV. iii. 1-10.\n\n\nThe general teaching of these nine introductory chapters is that the\n\"ways of Wisdom are pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.\" We are\ntaught to look for the fruit of righteousness in long life and\nprosperity, for the penalty of sin in premature destruction. \"The\nupright shall dwell in the land, and the perfect shall remain in it.\nBut the wicked shall be cut off from the land, and they that deal\ntreacherously shall be rooted out of it.\"[32] The foolish \"shall eat\nof the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own devices.\nFor the backsliding of the simple shall slay them, and the prosperity\nof fools shall destroy them. But whoso hearkeneth unto Wisdom shall\ndwell securely, and shall be quiet without fear of evil.\"[33] \"By\nWisdom thy days shall be multiplied, and the years of thy life shall\nbe increased. If thou art wise, thou art wise for thyself; and if thou\nscornest, thou alone shall bear it.\" The ways of Folly have this\nlegend written over the entrance-gate: \"The dead are there; her guests\nare in the depths of Sheol.\"[34]\n\nThis teaching is summarized in the passage before us. \"My son, forget\nnot my law; but let thine heart keep my commandments: for length of\ndays, and years of life, and peace, shall they add to thee. Let not\nmercy and truth,\" those primary requirements of wisdom, \"forsake thee:\nbind them about thy neck; write them upon the table of thy heart;\"\n_i.e._ let them be an ornament which strikes the eye of the beholder,\nbut also an inward law which regulates the secret thought. \"So shalt\nthou find favour and good understanding in the sight of God and man;\"\nthat is to say, the charm of thy character will conciliate the love of\nthy fellow creatures and of thy God, while they recognize, and He\napproves, the spiritual state from which these graces grow. \"Trust in\nthe Lord with all thine heart, and lean not upon thine own\nunderstanding:[35] in all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall\ndirect thy paths. Be not wise in thine own eyes; fear the Lord, and\ndepart from evil: it shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thy\nbones. Honour the Lord with thy substance, and with the first-fruits\nof all thy increase: so shall thy barns be filled with plenty, and thy\nvats shall overflow with new wine.\"[36]\n\nThe rewards of wisdom, then, are health and long life, the good-will\nof God and man, prosperity, and abundant earthly possessions. As our\nLord would put it, they who leave house, or wife, or brethren, or\nparents, or children, for the kingdom of God's sake, shall receive\nmanifold more in this time, even of the things which they surrender,\nin addition to the everlasting life in the time to come.[37]\n\nThis is a side of truth which we frequently allow to drop out of\nsight, in order to emphasize another side which is considered more\nimportant. We are accustomed to dwell on the promised joys of the\nfuture world as if godliness had no promise of the life which now is,\nand in so doing we take all life and colour from those expected\nblessings. The true view seems to be, The way of wisdom, the path of\nthe upright, is so full of joy, so crowned with peace; the life of the\nchildren of the kingdom is so wisely and bountifully provided for; the\ninevitable pains and troubles which fall to their share are so\ntransformed; that from this present good we can infer a future better,\ngathering hints and promises of what we shall be from the realized\nfelicity of what we are.\n\nIf we try to estimate the temporal blessings of wisdom we do not\nthereby deny the larger and more lasting blessings which are to come;\nwhile if we ignore these present joyful results we deprive ourselves\nof the surest evidence for the things which, though hoped for, are not\nyet seen.\n\nWe may, then, with much advantage try to estimate some of the\nimmediate and apprehensible benefits of the life which is lived\naccording to the dictates of heavenly wisdom.\n\n(1) First of all, the right life is a wholesome life--yes, physically\nhealthy. Obedience to the eternal moral laws brings \"health to the\nnavel,\" and that peculiar brightness which is like the freshness of\ndew.[38] The body is a sacred trust, a temple of the Holy Ghost; to\nuse it ill is to violate the trust and to defile the temple. The\ntemperance of habit and orderliness of life which Wisdom requires of\nher children are the first conditions of vitality. They who seek\nhealth as the first consideration become valetudinarians and find\nneither health nor happiness; but they who diligently follow the law\nof God and the impulse of His Spirit find that health has come to\nthem, as it were, by a side wind. The peace of mind, the cheerfulness\nof temper, the transfer of all anxiety from the human spirit to the\nstrong Spirit of God, are very favourable to longevity. Insurance\nsocieties have made this discovery, and actuaries will tell you that\nin a very literal way the children of God possess the earth, while the\nwicked are cut off.\n\nYet no one thinks of measuring life only by days and years. To live long\nwith the constant feeling that life is not worth living, or to live long\nwith the constant apprehension of death, must be counted as a small and\nempty life. Now, it is the chief blessedness in the lot of the children\nof light that each day is a full, rich day, unmarred by recollections,\nunshadowed by apprehensions. Each day is distinctly worth living; it has\nits own exquisite lessons of cloud or sunshine, its own beautiful\nrevelations of love, and pity, and hope. Time does not hang heavily on\nthe hands, nor yet is its hurried flight a cause of vain regret; for it\nhas accomplished that for which it was sent, and by staying longer could\nnot accomplish more. And if, after all, God has appointed but a few\nyears for His child's earthly life, that is not to be regretted; the\nonly ground for sorrow would be to live longer than His wise love had\ndecreed. \"If God thy death desires,\" as St. Genest says to Adrien in\nRotrou's tragedy, \"life has been long enow.\"[39]\n\nThe life in God is undoubtedly a healthy life, nor is it the less\nhealthy because the outward man has to decay, and mortality has to be\nswallowed up of life. From the standpoint of the Proverbs this wider\napplication of the truth was not as yet visible. The problem which\nemerges in the book of Job was not yet solved. But already, as I think\nwe shall see, it was understood that the actual and tangible rewards\nof righteousness were of incomparable price, and made the prosperity\nof the wicked look poor and delusive.\n\n(2) But there is a second result of the right life which ordinary\nobservation and common sense may estimate. Wisdom is very uncompromising\nin her requirement of fair dealing between man and man. She cannot away\nwith those commercial practices which can only be described as devising\n\"evil against thy neighbour,\" who \"dwelleth securely by thee.\"[40] Her\nmain economic principle is this, that all legitimate trade is the mutual\nadvantage of buyer and seller; where the seller is seeking to dupe the\nbuyer, and the buyer is seeking to rob the seller, trade ceases, and the\ntransaction is the mere inworking of the devil. Wisdom is quite aware\nthat by these ways of the devil wealth may be accumulated; she is not\nblind to the fact that the overreaching spirit of greed has its rich and\nsplendid reward; but she maintains none the less that \"the curse of the\nLord is in the house of the wicked; but He blesseth the habitation of\nthe righteous.\"[41]\n\nIt is a very impressive experience to enter the house of a great\nmagnate whose wealth has been obtained by questionable means. The\nrooms are beautiful; works by the great masters shed their radiance of\neternal truth from the walls; the library gleams with the well-bound\nbooks of moralists and religious teachers. The sons and daughters of\nthe house are fair and elegant; the smile of prosperity is in every\ncurtained and carpeted room, and seems to beam out of every\nilluminated window; and yet the sensitive spirit cannot be rid of the\nidea that \"the curse of the Lord is in the house.\"\n\nOn the other hand, the honourable man whose paths have been directed\nby the Lord, no matter whether he be wealthy or merely in receipt, as\nthe result of a life's labour, of his \"daily bread,\" has a blessing in\nhis house. Men trust him and honour him.[42] His wealth flows as a\nfertilizing stream, or if it run dry, his friends, who love him for\nhimself, make him feel that it was a good thing to lose it in order to\nfind them. In proportion as the fierce struggle of competition has\nmade the path of fair dealing more difficult, they who walk in it are\nthe more honoured and loved. Nowhere does Wisdom smile more graciously\nor open her hand to bless more abundantly, than in the later years of\na life which has in its earlier days been exposed, and has offered a\nsuccessful resistance, to the strong temptations of unrighteous gain.\n\n(3) Further, Wisdom commands not only justice, but generosity. She\nrequires her children to yield the first-fruits of all their\npossessions to the Lord, and to look tenderly upon His poor.\n\"Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the\npower of thine hand to do it. Say not unto thy neighbour, Go, and come\nagain, and to-morrow I will give; when thou hast it by thee.\"[43] And\nthe teaching of experience is that those who act upon this precept\npurchase to themselves a good possession. The main value of the Mammon\nof unrighteousness is, as our Lord says, to make to ourselves friends\nwith it, friends who shall receive us into the everlasting\nhabitations. The money we spend upon our own pleasures, and to promote\nour own interests, is spent and gone; but the money given with an open\nhand to those poor children of God, to whom it is strictly due, is not\nspent at all, but laid up in the most secure of banks. There is no\nsource of joy in this present world to be compared with the loving\ngratitude of the poor whom you have lovingly helped. Strangely enough,\nmen will spend much to obtain a title which carries no honour with it,\nforgetting that the same money given to the needy and the suffering\npurchases the true honour, which gives the noblest title. For we are\nnone of us so stupid as to think that the empty admiration of the\ncrowd is so rich in blessing as the heartfelt love of the few.\n\nBut in enumerating these external results of right living we have only\ntouched incidentally upon the deeper truths which lie at the root of\nit. It is time to look at these.\n\nGod is necessarily so much to men, men are necessarily so completely\nbereft without Him, that clear vision and strong action are utterly\nimpossible apart from a humble dependence upon Him. The beginning of\nall wisdom is, as we have seen, in the recognition of God, in personal\nsubmission to Him, in diligent obedience to all His directions. This\nappears, before we reflect, to be a mere truism; when we have\nreflected, it proves to be a great revelation. We do not at first see\nwhat is meant by trusting in the Lord with all our heart; we confuse\nit with that tepid, conventional relation to God which too frequently\npasses current for faith. We do not readily apprehend what is implied\nin acknowledging God in all our ways; we suppose that it only means a\ngeneral professing and calling ourselves Christians. Consequently,\nmany of us who believe that we trust in the Lord, yet lean habitually\nand confidently upon our own understanding, and are even proud of\ndoing so; we are wise in our own eyes long after our folly has become\napparent to every one else; we resent with a vehemence of righteous\nindignation any imputation upon the soundness of our judgment. The\nvery tone of mock humility in which we say, \"I may be wrong, but----\"\nshows that we are putting a case which seems to us practically\nimpossible. Consequently, while we think that we are acknowledging God\nin all our ways, He does not direct our paths; indeed, we never gave\nHim an opportunity. From first to last we directed them ourselves. Let\nus frankly acknowledge that we do not really believe in God's detailed\nconcern with the affairs of the individual life; that we do not,\ntherefore, commit our way with an absolute surrender into His hand;\nthat we do not think of submitting to His disposal the choice of our\nprofession, the choice of our partner in life, the choice of our place\nof residence, the choice of our style of living, the choice of our\nfield of public service, the choice of our scale of giving. Let us\nconfess that we settled all these things in implicit and unquestioning\nreliance upon our own understanding.\n\nI speak only in wide and fully admitted generalities. If Christians as a\nwhole had really submitted their lives in every detail to God, do you\nsuppose that there would be something like fifty thousand Christian\nministers and ten times that number of Christian workers at home, while\nscarcely a twentieth of that number have gone out from us to labour\nabroad? If Christians had really submitted their lives to God, would\nthere have been these innumerable wretched marriages--man and wife\njoined together by no spiritual tie, but by the caprice of fancy or the\nexigencies of social caste? If Christians had really asked God to guide\nthem, meaning what they said, would all the rich be found in districts\ntogether, while all the poor are left to perish in other districts\napart? If Christians had really accepted God's direction, would they be\nliving in princely luxury while the heathen world is crying for the\nbread of life? would they be spending their strength on personal aims\nwhile the guidance of social and political affairs is left in the hands\nof the self-interested? would they be giving such a fragment of their\nwealth to the direct service of the Kingdom of God?\n\nWe may answer very confidently that the life actually being lived by\nthe majority of Christian people is not the result of God directing\ntheir paths, but simply comes from leaning on their own understanding.\nAnd what a sorrowful result!\n\nBut in face of this apostasy of life and practice, we can still joyfully\npoint to the fact that they who do entirely renounce their own judgment,\nwho are small in their own eyes, and who, with their whole heart\ntrusting Him, acknowledge Him in all their ways, find their lives\nrunning over with blessing, and become the means of incalculable good to\nthe world and to themselves. It would not be easy to make plain or even\ncredible, to those who have never trusted in God, how this guidance and\ndirection are given. Not by miraculous signs or visible interpositions,\nnot by voices speaking from heaven, nor even by messages from human\nlips, but by ways no less distinct and infinitely more authoritative,\nGod guides men with His eye upon them, tells them, \"This is the way;\nwalk ye in it,\" and whispers to them quite intelligibly when they turn\nto the right hand or the left. With a noble universality of language,\nthis text says nothing of Urim or Thummim, of oracle or seer, of prophet\nor book: \"He shall direct thy paths.\"[44] That is enough; the method is\nleft open to the wisdom and love of Him who directs. There is something\neven misleading in saying much about the methods; to set limits to God's\nrevelations, as Gideon did, is unworthy of the faith which has become\naware of God as the actual and living Reality, compared with whom all\nother realities are but shadows. Our Lord did not follow the guidance of\nHis Father by a mechanical method of signs, but by a more intimate and\nimmediate perception of His will. When Jesus promised us the Spirit as\nan indwelling and abiding presence He clearly intimated that the\nChristian life should be maintained by the direct action of God upon the\nseveral faculties of the mind, stimulating the memory, quickening the\nperception of truth, as well as working on the conscience and opening\nthe channels of prayer. When we wait for signs we show a defect of\nfaith. True trust in our Heavenly Father rests in the absolute assurance\nthat He will make the path plain, and leave us in no uncertainty about\nHis will. To doubt that He speaks inwardly and controls us, even when we\nare unconscious of His control, is to doubt Him altogether.\n\nWhen a few years have been passed in humble dependence on God, it is\nthen possible to look back and see with astonishing clearness how real\nand decisive the leadings of the Spirit have been. There were moments\nwhen two alternatives were present, and we were tempted to decide on\nthe strength of our own understanding; but thanks be to His name, we\ncommitted it to Him. We stepped forward then in the darkness; we\ndeserted the way which seemed most attractive, and entered the narrow\npath which was shrouded in mist. We knew He was leading us, but we\ncould not see. Now we see, and we cannot speak our praise. Our life,\nwe find, is all a plan of God, and He conceals it from us, as if on\npurpose to evoke our trust, and to secure that close and personal\ncommunion which the uncertainty renders necessary.\n\nAre you suspicious of the Inward Light, as it is called? Does it seem\nto open up endless possibilities of self-delusion? Are you disgusted\nwith those who follow their own wilful way, and seek a sanction for it\nby calling it the leading of God? You will find that the error has\narisen from not trusting the Lord \"with the whole heart,\" or from not\nacknowledging Him \"in all ways.\" The eye has not been single, and the\ndarkness therefore has been, as our Lord declares that it would be,\ndense.[45] The remedy is not to be found in leaning more on our own\nunderstanding, but rather in leaning less. Wisdom calls for a certain\nabsoluteness in all our relations to God, a fearless, unreserved, and\nconstantly renewed submission of heart to Him. Wisdom teaches that in\nHis will is our peace, and that His will is learnt by practical\nsurrender to His ways and commandments.\n\nNow, is it not obvious that while the external results of wisdom are\ngreat and marked, this inward result, which is the spring of them all,\nis more blessed than any? The laws which govern the universe are the\nlaws of God. The Stoic philosophy demanded a life according to Nature.\nThat is not enough, for by Nature is meant God's will for the\ninanimate or non-moral creation. Where there is freedom of the will,\nexistence must not be \"according to Nature,\" but according to God;\nthat is to say, life must be lived in obedience to God's laws for\nhuman life. The inorganic world moves in ordered response to God's\nwill. We, as men, have to choose; we have to discover; we have to\ninterpret. Woe to us if we choose amiss, for then we are undone. Woe\nto us if we do not understand, but in a brutish way follow the\nordinances of death instead of the way of life!\n\nNow, the supreme bliss of the heavenly wisdom is that it leads us into\nthis detailed obedience to the law which is our life; it sets us under\nthe immediate and unbroken control of God. Well may it be said, \"Happy\nis the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding.\nFor the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and\nthe gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies.\"[46]\nAnd yet rubies are very precious. I learn that the valley in Burmah\nwhere the most perfect rubies in the world are found is situated four\nthousand five hundred feet above the sea level, in a range of\nmountainous spurs about eighty miles due north of Mandalay; but owing to\nthe difficult nature of the intervening ground, the valley can only be\nreached by a circuitous journey of some two hundred miles, which winds\nthrough malarious jungles and over arduous mountain passes. An eminent\njewellers' firm is about to explore the Valley of Rubies, though it is\nquite uncertain whether the stones may not be exhausted. Wisdom is \"more\nprecious than _rubies_, and none of the things thou canst desire are to\nbe compared unto her.\"\n\nTo know the secret of the Lord, to walk in this world not guideless,\nbut led by the Lord of life, to approach death itself not fearful, but\nin the hands of that Infinite Love for whom death does not exist,\nsurely this is worth more than the gold and precious stones which\nbelong only to the earth and are earthy. This wisdom is laden with\nriches which cannot be computed in earthly treasures; \"she is a tree\nof life to them that lay hold upon her: and happy is every one that\nretaineth her.\"[47] The creation itself, in its vast and infinite\nperfections, with all its \u00e6onian changes, and all the mysterious\nministries which order its details and maintain its activities, comes\nfrom that same wisdom which controls the right human life. The man,\ntherefore, who is led in the ways of wisdom, trusting wholly to God,\nis in harmony with that great universe of which he forms an\nintelligent part: he may lie down without being afraid; he may walk\nsecurely without stumbling; no sudden fear can assail him; all the\ncreatures of God are his sisters and his brothers; even Sister Death,\nas St. Francis used to say, is a familiar and a friend to him.\n\nWe have been dwelling upon the outward results of Heavenly Wisdom--the\nhealth, the prosperity, the friends, the favour with God and man which\ncome to those who possess her. We have been led to seek out the secret\nof her peace in the humble surrender of the will to its rightful Lord.\nBut there is a caution needed, a truth which has already occurred to the\nauthor of this chapter. It is evident that while Wisdom brings in her\nhand riches and honour,[48] health to the navel, and marrow to the\nbones,[49] it will not be enough to judge only by appearances. As we\nhave pondered upon the law of Wisdom, we have become aware that there\nmay be an apparent health and prosperity, a bevy of friends, and a\nloud-sounding fame which are the gift not of Wisdom, but of some other\npower. It will not do, therefore, to set these outward things before our\neyes as the object of desire; it will not do to envy the possessors of\nthem.[50] \"The secret of the Lord is with the upright,\" and it may often\nbe that they to whom His secret has become open will choose the frowns\nof adversity rather than the smile of prosperity, will choose poverty\nrather than wealth, will welcome solitude and contumely down in the\nValley of Humiliation. For it is an open secret, in the sweet light of\nwisdom it becomes a self-evident truth, that \"whom the Lord loveth He\nreproveth; even as a father the son in whom he delighteth.\"[51]\n\nThere is, then, a certain paradox in the life of wisdom which no\ningenuity can avoid. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, but we may not\nseek them because they are pleasant, for other ways are pleasant too, or\nseem to be so for a while. All her paths are peace, but we do not enter\nthem to gain peace, for the peace comes often under the stress of a\ngreat conflict or in the endurance of a heavy chastening. A thousand\ntemporal blessings accompany the entrance into the narrow way, but so\nfar from seeking them, it is well-nigh impossible to start on the way\nunless we lose sight and care of them altogether. The Divine Wisdom\ngives us these blessings when we no longer set our hearts on them,\nbecause while we set our hearts on them they are dangerous to us.\nPutting the truth in the clearest light which has been given to us, the\nlight of our Lord Jesus Christ, we are called upon to give up everything\nin order to seek first the Kingdom of Heaven, and when we are absorbed\nin that as our true object of search everything is given back to us a\nhundredfold; we are called upon to take up our cross and follow Him, and\nwhen we do so He bears the cross for us; we are called upon to take His\nyoke upon us and to learn of Him, and immediately we take it--not\nbefore--we find that it is easy. The wise, loving only wisdom, find that\nthey have inherited glory; the fools, seeking only promotion, find that\nthey have achieved nothing but shame.[52]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[32] Prov. ii. 21, 22.\n\n[33] Prov. i. 31-33.\n\n[34] Prov. ix. 12, 18.\n\n[35] _Cf._ xxviii. 26, \"He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool:\nbut whoso walketh wisely, he shall be delivered.\"\n\n[36] Prov. iii. 1-10.\n\n[37] Luke xviii. 29, 30.\n\n[38] The Hebrew word \u05e9\u05b4\u05c1\u05e7\u05bc\u05d5\u05bc\u05d9 in iii. 8_b_ is the same as that which\nis translated \"my drink\" in Hosea ii. 6. The LXX. render it \"marrow,\"\nbut it means the moisture which in a natural and healthy state keeps\nthe bones supple, as opposed to the dryness which is produced by\nsenility or disease.\n\n[39] _Si ton Dieu veut ta mort, c'est d\u00e9j\u00e0 trop v\u00e9cu._\n\n[40] Prov. iii. 29.\n\n[41] Prov. iii. 33.\n\n[42] _Cf._ xii. 8, \"A man shall be commended according to his wisdom:\nbut he that is of a perverse heart, shall be despised.\"\n\n[43] Prov. iii. 27, 28.\n\n[44] Prov. iii. 6.\n\n[45] Matt. vi. 22.\n\n[46] Prov. iii. 13-15.\n\n[47] Prov. iii. 18.\n\n[48] Prov. iii. 16.\n\n[49] Prov. iii. 8.\n\n[50] Prov. iii. 31.\n\n[51] Prov. iii. 12.\n\n[52] Prov. iii. 35.\n\n\n\n\n IV.\n\n _EDUCATION: THE CHILD'S THOUGHT OF THE PARENT._[53]\n\n \"Wisdom doth live with children round her knees.\"\n WORDSWORTH.\n\n \"He taught me, and said unto me,\" etc.--PROV. iv. 4.\n\n\nThis chapter begins with a charming little piece of autobiography.\nUnhappily the writer is unknown. That it was not Solomon is plain from\nthe fact that an only son is speaking, and we know from 1 Chron. iii.\n5 that Solomon was not an only son of his mother.[54] But the na\u00efvet\u00e9\nand beauty of the confession are the same, whoever was the speaker.\nThe grateful memories of a father's teaching and of a mother's\ntenderness give point and force to the exhortations. \"Do I urge upon\nyou, young people, the claims of Wisdom?\" the author seems to say.\n\"Well I speak from experience. My parents taught me her wholesome and\npleasant ways. Though I was an only son, they did not by a selfish\nindulgence allow me to be spoiled. They made me bear the yoke in my\nyouth, and now I live to thank them for it.\"\n\nThere is a great temptation to spoil an only child, a temptation\nwhich few are able to resist. Parents can deny themselves everything\nfor their idol, except the pleasure of making the child a despot; they\ncan endure any pain for their despot, except the pain of resisting him\nand instructing him. And accordingly they have sometimes to experience\nthe shame and anguish of their children's curses, like that\nCarthaginian mother, of whom it is related that her son, a convicted\ncriminal, passing to execution, requested that he might whisper\nsomething to her, and, coming near, bit off her ear, saying that it\nwas his revenge because she had brought him up so badly. Very\ndifferent are the feelings of our author; he owes much to his parents,\nand is eager to acknowledge what he owes. God has no kinder gift to\ngive us than a hallowed home, the memory of lessons from the lips of\nfather and mother, the early impressions of virtue and wisdom, the\nsacred streams which rise from that fountainhead, and that alone, and\nrun freshening and singing and broadening all through our lives.[55]\n\nWith this happy example of good home influence before our eyes, we\nwill come to consider briefly two points which are suggested by it:\n_first_, the importance of these early impressions; _second_, the main\nfeatures of the discipline presented in the chapter.\n\nI. Not without reason has a great cardinal of the Roman Church said that\nif he may have the children up to the age of five, he will not mind in\nwhose hand they may be afterwards; for it is almost impossible to\nexaggerate the permanent effects of those first tendencies impressed on\nthe soul before the intellect is developed, and while the soft, plastic\nnature of the child is not yet determined in any particular direction.\nThings which we learn we can more or less unlearn, but things which are\nblended with the elements of our composition, made parts of us before we\nare conscious of our own personality, defy the hand of time and the\npower of conscious effort to eradicate them.\n\nJohn Paton, that noble missionary to the New Hebrides, has given us a\nvivid picture of his early home. It was a plain lowland cottage, with\nits \"but and ben,\" and between the two a small chamber with a\ndiminutive window shedding diminutive light on the scene. To this room\nthe children saw the father retire oftentimes a day, and shut to the\ndoor; they would occasionally hear the pathetic pleadings of the voice\nthat prayed, and they learnt to slip past the door on tiptoe. They got\nto understand whence came that happy light upon their father's face;\nthey recognized it as a reflection from the Divine presence, in the\nconsciousness of which he lived.\n\nLet a child draw his first breath in a house which possesses a\nsanctuary like that; let him come to know by his quick childish\nperceptions that there is in his home a ladder set up from earth to\nheaven, and that the angels of God go up and down on it; let him feel\nthe Divine atmosphere in his face, the air all suffused with heavenly\nlight, the sweetness and the calm which prevail in a place where a\nconstant communion is maintained,--and in after years he will be aware\nof voices which call and hands which reach out to him from his\nchildhood, connecting him with heaven, and even the most convincing\nnegations of unbelief will be powerless to shake the faith which is\ndeep as the springs of his life.\n\nWe learn to love, not because we are taught to love, but by some\ncontagious influence of example or by some indescribable attraction of\nbeauty. Our first love to Wisdom, or, to use our modern phrase,\nReligion, is won from us by living with those that love her. She stole\nin upon us and captured us without any overpowering arguments; she was\nbeautiful and we felt that those whom we loved were constantly taken and\nheld by her beauty. Just reflect upon this subtle and wonderful truth.\nIf my infancy is spent among those whose main thought is \"to get\"\nriches, I acquire imperceptibly the love of money. I cannot rationally\nexplain my love; but it seems to me in after life a truism, that money\nis the principal thing; I look with blank incredulity upon one who\nquestions this ingrained truth. But if in infancy I live with those\nwhose love is wholly centred upon Religion, who cherish her with\nunaffected ardour and respond to her claims with kindling emotion, I may\nin after life be seduced from her holy ways for awhile, but I am always\nhaunted by the feeling that I have left my first love, I am restless and\nuneasy until I can win back that \"old bride-look of earlier days.\"\n\nYes, that old bride-look--for religion may be so presented to the\nchild's heart as to appear for ever the bride elect of the soul, from\nwhose queenly love promotion may be expected, whose sweet embraces\nbring a dower of honour, whose beautiful fingers twine a chaplet of\ngrace for the head and set a crown of glory on the brow.[56]\n\nThe affections are elicited, and often permanently fixed, before the\nunderstanding has come into play. If the child's heart is surrendered to\nGod, and moulded by heavenly wisdom, the man will walk securely; a\ncertain trend will be given to all his thoughts; a certain instinctive\ndesire for righteousness will be engrafted in his nature; and an\ninstinctive aversion will lead him to decline the way of the wicked.[57]\n\nThe first thing, then, is to give our children an atmosphere to grow\nup in; to cultivate their affections, and set their hearts on the\nthings eternal; to make them associate the ideas of wealth and honour,\nof beauty and glory, not with material possessions, but with the\ntreasures and rewards of Wisdom.\n\nII. But now comes the question, What is to be the definite teaching of\nthe child? for it is an unfailing mark of the parents who themselves\nare holy that they are impelled to give clear and memorable\ninstruction to their children. And this is where the great and\nconstant difficulty emerges. If the hallowed example would suffice we\nmight count the task comparatively easy. But some day the\nunderstanding will begin to assert itself; the desire to question, to\ncriticise, to prove, will awake. And then, unless the truths of the\nheart have been applied to the conscience in such a way as to satisfy\nthe reason, there may come the desolate time in which, while the\nhabits of practical life remain pure, and the unconscious influence of\nearly training continues to be effective, the mind is shaken by doubt,\nand the hope of the soul is shrouded in a murky cloud.\n\nNow the answer to this question may for the Christian be briefly\ngiven, Bring your children to Christ, teach them to recognize in Him\ntheir Saviour, and to accept Him as their present Lord and gracious\nFriend. But this all-inclusive answer will not suffer by a little\nexpansion on the lines which are laid down in the chapter before us.\nWhen Christ is made unto us Wisdom, the contents of Wisdom are not\naltered, they are only brought within our reach and made effectual in\nus. Bringing our children to Christ will not merely consist in\nteaching them the doctrine of salvation, but it will include showing\nthem in detail what salvation is, and the method of its realization.\n\nThe first object in the home life is to enable children to realize\nwhat salvation is. It is easy to dilate on an external heaven and\nhell, but it is not so easy to demonstrate that salvation is an inward\nstate, resulting from a spiritual change.\n\nIt is very strange that Judaism should ever have sunk into a formal\nreligion of outward observance, when its own Wisdom was so explicit on\nthis point: \"My son, attend to my words; incline thine ear unto my\nsayings. Let them not depart from thine eyes; keep them _in the midst\nof thine heart_. For they are life unto those that find them, and\nhealth to all their flesh. _Keep thy heart_ with all diligence; for\nout of it are the issues of life.\"[58] The Greek version, which was\nvery generally used in our Lord's time, had a beautiful variation of\nthis last clause: \"In order that thy fountains may not fail thee,\nguard them in the heart.\" It was after all but a new emphasis on the\nold teaching of the book of Proverbs when Jesus taught the necessity\nof heart purity, and when He showed that out of the heart come forth\nevil thoughts, and all the things which defile a man.[59] Yet this\nlesson of inwardness has always been the most difficult of all to\nlearn. Christianity itself has always been declining from it and\nfalling into the easier but futile ways of externalism; and even\nChristian homes have usually failed in their influence on the young\nchiefly because their religious observances have fallen into\nformalism, and while the outward conduct has been regulated, the inner\nsprings of action have not been touched.\n\nAll conduct is the outcome of hidden fountains. All words are the\nexpression of thoughts. The first thing and the main thing is that the\nhidden fountains of thought and feeling be pure. The source of all our\ntrouble is the bitterness of heart, the envious feeling, the sudden\noutbreak of corrupt desire. A merely outward salvation would be of no\navail; a change of place, a magic formula, a conventional pardon, could\nnot touch the root of the mischief. \"I wish you would change my heart,\"\nsaid the chief Sekomi to Livingstone, \"Give me medicine to change it,\nfor it is proud, proud and angry, angry always.\" He would not hear of\nthe New Testament way of changing the heart; he wanted an outward,\nmechanical way--and that way was not to be found. The child at first\nthinks in the same way. Heaven is a place to go to, not a state to be\nin. Hell is an outward punishment to fly from, not an inward condition\nof the soul. The child has to learn that searching truth which Milton\ntried to teach, when he described Satan in Paradise,--\n\n \"... within him hell\n He brings, and round about him, nor from hell\n One step, no more than from himself, can fly\n By change of place.\n\n * * * * *\n\n \"'Which way I fly is hell,'\n\ncries the miserable being,\n\n 'myself am hell;\n And in the lowest deep, a lower deep,\n Still threatening to devour me, opens wide,\n To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.'\"[60]\n\nWe are tempted in dealing with children to train them only in outward\nhabits, and to forget the inward sources which are always gathering\nand forming; hence we often teach them to avoid the lie on the tongue,\nto put away from them the froward mouth and perverse lips,[61] and yet\nleave them with the lies in the soul, the deep inward unveracities\nwhich are their ruin. We often succeed in bringing them up as\nrespectable and decorous members of society, and yet leave them a prey\nto secret sins; they are tormented by covetousness which is idolatry,\nby impurity, and by all kinds of envious and malignant passions.\n\nThere is something even ghastly in the very virtues which are\nsometimes displayed in a highly civilised society like ours. We\nperceive what appear to be virtues, but we are haunted by an\nuncomfortable misgiving that they are virtues only in appearance;\nthey seem to have no connection with the heart; they never seem to\nbubble up from irrepressible fountains; they do not overflow. There is\ncharity, but it is the charity only of the subscription list; there is\npity, but it is the pity only of conventional humanitarianism; there\nis the cold correctness of conduct, or the formal accuracy of speech,\nbut the purity seems to be prudery because it is only a concession to\nthe conventional sentiments of the hour, and the truthfulness seems to\nbe a lie because its very exactness seems to come, not from springs of\ntruth, but only from an artificial habit.\n\nWe are frequently bound to notice a religion of a similar kind. It is\npurely mimetic. It is explained on the same principle as the\nassimilation of the colours of animals to the colours of their\nenvironment. It is the unconscious and hypocritical instinct of\nself-preservation in a presumably religious society, where not to seem\nreligious would involve a loss of caste. It may be regarded then as\nthe first essential lesson which is to be impressed on the mind of a\nchild,--the lesson coming next after the unconscious influences of\nexample, and before all dogmatic religious teaching,--that\nrighteousness is the condition of salvation, righteousness of the\nheart; that the outward seeming goes for nothing at all, but that God\nwith a clear and quiet eye gazes down into the hidden depths, and\nconsiders whether the fountains there are pure and perennial.\n\nThe second thing to be explained and enforced is _singleness of\nheart_, directness and consistency of aim; by which alone the inward\nlife can be shaped to virtuous ends: \"Let thine eyes look right on,\nand let thine eyelids look straight before thee. Make level the path\nof thy feet, and let all thy ways be established. Turn not to the\nright hand nor to the left.\"[62] As our Lord puts it, If thine eye be\nsingle, thy whole body shall be full of light. This precept has\nfrequently been given in the interests of worldly wisdom. The boy is\ntold that if he means to get on he must concentrate his thoughts and\nrefuse to let any of the seductions around him divert his attention.\nSingleness of eye may be the most ruinous of evils--if a man has only\na single eye to his own advantage, and pursues nothing but his own\npleasure. The precept is given here however in the interests of\nheavenly wisdom, and there is much to be said for the view that only\nthe truly religious mind can be quite single-eyed. Selfishness, though\nit seems to be an undivided aim, is really a manifold of tumultuous\nand conflicting passions. He only, strictly speaking, has one desire,\nwhose one desire is God. The way of wisdom is after all the only way\nwhich has no bifurcations. The man who has a single eye to his own\ninterest may find before long that he has missed the way: he pushes\neagerly on, but he flounders ever deeper in the mire; for though he\ndid not turn to the right hand nor to the left, he never all the time\nremoved his foot from evil.[63]\n\nThe right life then is a steady progress undiverted by the alluring\nsights and sounds which appeal to the senses.[64] \"Look not round\nabout thee,\" says Ecclesiasticus,[65] \"in the streets of the city,\nneither wander thou in the solitary places thereof.\" We are to learn\nthat the way goes through Vanity Fair, but admits of no divergences\ninto its tempting booths or down its alluring alleys; the lust of the\neye, the lust of the flesh, the vainglory of life, are not to distract\nthe mind which has but one purpose in view. The path is to be kept\nlevel;[66] as we should say, an even tenor is to be preserved; we are\nto follow the plain unexciting path of duty, the beaten track of sober\nrightness. For while it is the mark of all unhallowed ways that they\nplunge up and down from despondency to wild elation, from giddy\nraptures to heartstricken depression, it is the sure sign of God's\nhand in our life when the paths are made level.[67] Ah those tempting\nways, on which shine the false lights of imagined duty, of refined\nselfishness, or of gilded sensuality. Surely it is the result of\nWisdom, the gift of God's grace, to keep the eyes \"looking right on.\"\n\nBut it is time to sum up. Here is a great contrast between those whose\nearly training has been vicious or neglected, and those who have been\n\"taught in the way of wisdom, led in paths of uprightness.\" It is a\ncontrast which should constantly be present to the eyes of parents\nwith a warning and an encouragement. The unfortunate child whose\ninfancy was passed in the midst of baleful example, whose heart\nreceived no instruction from parents' lips, grows up like one\nstumbling in the dark, and the darkness deepens as he advances;\nobservers cannot tell--he himself cannot tell--what it is at which he\nstumbles.[68] There is the old ingrained vice which comes out again\nand again after every attempted reformation; there is the old\nshuffling habit; there is the old unhallowed set of the thoughts and\nthe tastes; there is the old incurable pharisaism, with its tendency\nto shift all blame on to other people's shoulders. It is all like the\ndamp in the walls of an ill-built house. In dry weather there are only\nthe stains, but those stains are the prophecy of what will be again\nwhen the wet weather returns. The corrupt ways have become a second\nnature; they are as sleep and food to the wretched creature; to\nabstain from iniquity creates the restlessness of insomnia; if he has\nnot been spreading an influence of evil and leading others astray, he\nfeels as if he had been deprived of his daily food, and he is consumed\nwith a fiery thirst.[69] Even when such an one is genuinely born\nagain, the old hideous habits will appear like seams in the character;\nand temptations will send the flush along the tell-tale scars.\n\nOn the other hand, the life which starts from the sweet examples of a\nhallowed home, and all its timely chastisements and discipline, presents\na most entrancing history. At first there is much which is difficult to\nbear, much against which the flesh revolts. The influences of purity are\ncold like the early dawn, and the young child's spirit shrinks and\nshivers; but with every step along the levelled road the light broadens\nand the air becomes warmer,--the dawn shines more and more unto the\nperfect day.[70] As the character forms, as the habits become fixed, as\nthe power of resistance increases, a settled strength and a lasting\npeace gladden the life. The rays of heavenly wisdom not only shine on\nthe face, but suffuse the very texture of the being, so that the whole\nbody is full of light. Eventually it begins to appear that truth and\npurity, pity and charity, have become instinctive. Like a\nwell-disciplined army, they spring at once into the ranks, and are ready\nfor service even on a surprise. The graces of holy living come welling\nup from those untainted inner springs, and, be the surroundings ever so\ndry, the fountains fail not. The habit of single-eyed devotion to right\navails even where there is no time for reflection; more and more the\nseductions of the senses lose their point of attack in this disciplined\nspirit. There is a freedom in the gait, for holiness has ceased to be a\ntoilsome calculation,--the steps of the spiritual man are not\nstraitened. There is a swiftness in all action,--the feet are shod with\na joyous and confident preparation, for the fear of stumbling is\ngone.[71]\n\nWith daily growing gratitude and veneration does such an one look back\nupon the early home of piety and tenderness.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[53] This subject, which occupies so large a part of the book, is\nfurther treated in Lect. XXIII.\n\n[54] It is noteworthy that the LXX. in ver. 2 seek to maintain the\nSolomonic authorship by deliberately altering the words.\n\n[55] _Cf._ the beautiful family picture of the linked and mutually\nblessed generations in the proverb, \"Children's children are the crown\nof old men; and the glory of children are their fathers\" (xvii. 6).\n\n[56] Prov. iv. 8, 9.\n\n[57] Prov. iv. 14.\n\n[58] Prov. iv. 20-23.\n\n[59] Matt. xv. 19.\n\n[60] _Paradise Lost_, iv. 20, etc., and 75. _Cf._ also ix. 120:--\n\n \"And the more I see\n Pleasures about me, so much more I feel\n Torment within me, as from hateful siege\n Of contraries. All good to me becomes\n Bane, and in heaven much worse would be my state.\"\n\n[61] Prov. iv. 24.\n\n[62] Prov. iv. 25-27.\n\n[63] Prov. iv. 27.\n\n[64] _Cf._ xvii. 24, \"Wisdom is before the face of him that hath\nunderstanding; but the eyes of a fool are in the ends of the earth.\"\n\n[65] Eccles. ix. 7.\n\n[66] Prov. iv. 26.\n\n[67] Prov. v. 21.\n\n[68] Prov. iv. 19.\n\n[69] Prov. iv. 16, 17.\n\n[70] Prov. iv. 18, margin.\n\n[71] Prov. iv. 12.\n\n\n\n\n V.\n\n _THE WAYS AND ISSUES OF SIN._\n\n \"His own iniquities shall take the wicked,\n And he shall be holden with the cords of his sin.\n He shall die for lack of instruction;\n And in the greatness of his folly he shall go astray.\"\n --PROV. v. 22, 23.\n\n\nIt is the task of Wisdom, or, as we should say, of the Christian\nteacher,--and a most distasteful task it is,--to lay bare with an\nunsparing hand (1) the fascinations of sin, and (2) the deadly\nentanglements in which the sinner involves himself,--\"there is a way\nwhich seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of\ndeath.\"[72] It would be pleasanter, no doubt, to avoid the subject, or\nat least to be content with a general caution and a general\ndenunciation; one is tempted to take refuge in the opinion that to\nmention evils of a certain kind with any particularity is likely to\nsuggest rather than to suppress, to aggravate rather than to lessen,\nthem. But Wisdom is not afraid of plain speaking; she sees that shame\nis the first result of the Fall, and behind the modest veil of shame\nthe devil works bravely. There is a frankness and a fulness in the\ndelineations of this chapter and of chapter seven which modern taste\nwould condemn; but the motive cannot be mistaken. Holiness describes\nthe ways of sin in detail to create a horror and a hatred of them; she\ndescribes exactly what is within the tempting doors,--all the glamour,\nall the softness, all the luxury, all the unhallowed raptures,--and\nshows distinctly how these chambers are on the incline of death, in\norder that curiosity, the mother of prurience, may be stifled, and the\nunwary may be content to remove his way far from the temptress, and to\ncome not nigh the door of her house.[73]\n\nBut this, it may be said, is the plea urged by a certain school of\nmodern Realism in Art. Let us depict--such is the argument--in all its\nhideous literalness the sinful life, and leave it to work its own\nimpressions, and to act as a warning to those who are entering on the\nseductive but dangerous ways. From this principle--so it may be\nsaid--has sprung the school of writers at whose head is M. Zola. Yes,\nbut to counteract vice by depicting it is so hazardous a venture that\nnone can do it successfully who is not fortified in virtue himself,\nand constantly led, directed, and restrained by the Holy Spirit of\nGod. Just in this point lies the great difference between the realism\nof the Bible and the realism of the French novel. In the first the\ndidactic purpose is at once declared, and the writer moves with swift\nprecision through the fascinating scene, to lift the curtain and show\ndeath beyond; in the last the motive is left doubtful, and the writer\nmoves slowly, observantly, even gloatingly, through the abomination\nand the filth, without any clear conception of the Divine Eye which\nwatches, or of the Divine Voice which condemns.[74]\n\nThere is a corresponding difference in the effects of the two. Few men\ncould study these chapters in the book of Proverbs without\nexperiencing a healthy revolt against the iniquity which is unveiled;\nwhile few men can read the works of modern realism without contracting\na certain contamination, without a dimming of the moral sense and a\nweakening of the purer impulses.\n\nWe need not then complain that the powers of imaginative description\nare summoned to heighten the picture of the temptation, because the\nsame powers are used with constraining effect to paint the results of\nyielding to it. We need not regret that the Temptress, Mistress Folly,\nas she is called, is allowed to utter all her blandishments in full,\nto weave her spells before our eyes, because the voice of Wisdom is in\nthis way made more impressive and convincing. Pulpit invectives\nagainst sin often lose half their terrible cogency because we are too\nprudish to describe the sins which we denounce.\n\nI. _The glamours of sin and the safeguard against them._--There is no\nsin which affords so vivid an example of seductive attraction at the\nbeginning, and of hopeless misery at the end, as that of unlawful\nlove. The illustration which we generally prefer, that drawn from the\nabuse of alcoholic drinks, occurs later on in the book, at xxiii. 31,\n32; but it is not so effectual for the purpose, and we may be thankful\nthat the Divine Wisdom is not checked in its choice of matter by our\npresent-day notions of propriety.\n\nThere are two elements in the temptation: there is the smooth and\nflattering speech, the outpouring of compliment and pretended\naffection expressed in vii. 15, the subtle and enflaming suggestion\nthat \"stolen waters are sweet;\"[75] and there is the beauty of form\nenhanced by artful painting of the eyelids,[76] and by all those\ngratifications of the senses which melt the manhood and undermine the\nresisting power of the victim.[77] In our own time we should have to\nadd still further elements of temptation,--sophistical arguments and\noracular utterances of a false science, which encourages men to do for\nhealth what appetite bids them do for pleasure.\n\nAfter all, this is but a type of all temptations to sin. There are\nweak points in every character; there are places in every life where\nthe descent is singularly easy. A siren voice waylays us with soft\nwords and insinuating arguments; gentle arms are thrown around us, and\ndazzling visions occupy our eyes; our conscience seems to fade away in\na mist of excited feeling; there is a sort of twilight in which shapes\nare uncertain, and the imagination works mightily with the obscure\npresentations of the senses. We are taken unawares; the weak point\nhappens to be unguarded; the fatal bypath with its smooth descent is,\nas it were, sprung upon us.\n\nNow the safeguard against the specific sin before us is presented in a\ntrue and whole-hearted marriage.[78] And the safeguard against all sin\nis equally to be found in the complete and constant preoccupation of\nthe soul with the Divine Love. The author is very far from indulging\nin allegory,--his thoughts are occupied with a very definite and\nconcrete evil, and a very definite and concrete remedy; but\ninstinctively the Christian ear detects a wider application, and the\nChristian heart turns to that strange and exigent demand made by its\nLord, to hate father and mother, and even all human ties, in order to\nconcentrate on Him an exclusive love and devotion. It is our method to\nstate a general truth and illustrate it with particular instances; it\nis the method of a more primitive wisdom to dwell upon a particular\ninstance in such a way as to suggest a general truth. Catching,\ntherefore, involuntarily the deeper meanings of such a thought, we\nnotice that escape from the allurements of the strange woman is\nsecured by the inward concentration of a pure wedded love. In the\npermitted paths of connubial intimacy and tenderness are to be found\nraptures more sweet and abiding than those which are vainly promised\nby the ways of sin.\n\n \"Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights\n His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings,\n Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile\n Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendeared.\"[79]\n\nForbidding to marry is a device of Satan; anything which tends to\ndegrade or to desecrate marriage bears on its face the mark of the\nTempter. It is at our peril that we invade the holy mystery, or brush\naway from its precincts the radiant dews which reflect the light of\nGod. Nay, even the jest and the playful teasing which the subject\nsometimes occasions are painfully inappropriate and even offensive. We\ndo ill to smile at the mutual absorption and tender endearments of the\nyoung married people; we should do better to pray that their love\nmight grow daily more absorbing and more tender. I would say to brides\nand bridegrooms: Magnify the meaning of this sacred union of yours;\ntry to understand its Divine symbolism. Labour diligently to keep its\nmystical passion pure and ardent and strong. Remember that love needs\nearnest, humble, self-suppressing cultivation, and its bloom is at\nfirst easily worn off by negligence or laziness. Husbands, labour hard\nto make your assiduous and loving care more manifest to your wives as\nyears go by. Wives, desire more to shine in the eyes of your husbands,\nand to retain their passionate and chivalrous admiration, than you did\nin the days of courtship.\n\nWhere marriage is held honourable,--a sacrament of heavenly\nsignificance,--where it begins in a disinterested love, grows in\neducational discipline, and matures in a complete harmony, an absolute\nfusion of the wedded souls, you have at once the best security against\nmany of the worst evils which desolate society, and the most exquisite\ntype of the brightest and loveliest spiritual state which is promised\nto us in the world to come.\n\nOur sacred writings glorify marriage, finding in it more than any other\nwisdom or religion has found. The Bible, depicting the seductions and\nfascinations of sin, sets off against them the infinitely sweeter joys\nand the infinitely more binding fascinations of this condition which was\ncreated and appointed in the time of man's innocence, and is still the\nreadiest way of bringing back the Paradise which is lost.\n\nII. _The binding results of sin._--It is interesting to compare with the\nteaching of this chapter the doctrine of Karma in that religion of\nBuddha which was already winning its victorious way in the far East at\nthe time when these introductory chapters were written. The Buddha said\nin effect to his disciple, \"You are in slavery to a tyrant set up by\nyourself. Your own deeds, words, and thoughts, in the former and present\nstates of being, are your own avengers through a countless series of\nlives. If you have been a murderer, a thief, a liar, impure, a drunkard,\nyou must pay the penalty in your next birth, either in one of the hells,\nor as an unclean animal, or as an evil spirit, or as a demon. You cannot\nescape, and I am powerless to set you free. Not in the heavens,\" so says\nthe Dhammapada, \"not in the midst of the sea, not if thou hidest thyself\nin the clefts of the mountains, wilt thou find a place where thou canst\nescape the force of thy own evil actions.\"\n\n\"His own iniquities shall take the wicked, and he shall be holden with\nthe cords of his sin.\" This terrible truth is illustrated with\nmournful emphasis in the sin of the flesh which has been occupying our\nattention, a sin which can only be described as \"taking fire into the\nbosom or walking upon hot coals,\" with the inevitable result that the\nclothes are burnt and the feet are scorched.[80] There are four\nmiseries comparable to four strong cords which bind the unhappy\ntransgressor. First of all, there is the shame. His honour is given to\nothers,[81] and his reproach shall not be wiped away.[82] The jealous\nrage of the offended husband will accept no ransom, no expiation;[83]\nwith relentless cruelty the avenger will expose to ruin and death the\nhapless fool who has transgressed against him. Secondly, there is the\nloss of wealth. The ways of debauchery lead to absolute want, for the\ndebauchee, impelled by his tormenting passions, will part with all his\npossessions in order to gratify his appetites,[84] until, unnerved and\n'feckless,' incapable of any honest work, he is at his wits' end to\nobtain even the necessaries of life.[85] For the third binding cord of\nthe transgression is the loss of health; the natural powers decay, the\nflesh and the body are consumed with loathsome disease.[86] Yet this\nis not the worst. Worse than all the rest is the bitter remorse, the\ngroaning and the despair at the end of the shortened life. \"How have I\nhated instruction, and my heart despised reproof!\"[87] \"Going down to\nthe chambers of death,\" wise too late, the victim of his own sins\nremembers with unspeakable agony the voice of his teachers, the\nefforts of those who wished to instruct him.\n\nThere is an inevitableness about it all, for life is not lived at a\nhazard; every path is clearly laid bare from its first step to its\nlast before the eyes of the Lord; the ups and downs which obscure the\nway for us are all level to Him.[88] Not by chance, therefore, but by\nthe clearest interworking of cause and effect, these fetters of sin\ngrow upon the feet of the sinner, while the ruined soul mourns in the\nlatter days.[89] The reason why Wisdom cries aloud, so urgently, so\ncontinually, is that she is uttering eternal truths, laws which hold\nin the spiritual world as surely as gravitation holds in the natural\nworld; it is that she sees unhappy human beings going astray in the\ngreatness of their folly, dying because they are without the\ninstruction which she offers.[90]\n\nBut now, to turn to the large truth which is illustrated here by a\nparticular instance, that our evil actions, forming evil habits,\nworking ill results on us and on others, are themselves the means of\nour punishment.\n\n \"The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices\n Make instruments to plague us.\"[91]\n\nWe do not rightly conceive God or Judgment or Hell until we recognize\nthat in spiritual and moral things there is a binding law, which is no\narbitrary decree of God, but the essential constitution of His\nuniverse. _He_ does not punish, but sin punishes; _He_ does not make\nhell, but sinners make it. As our Lord puts it, the terrible thing\nabout all sinning is that one may become involved in an eternal\nsin.[92] It is by an inherent necessity that this results from a sin\nagainst the Holy Spirit within us.\n\nWe cannot too frequently, or too solemnly, dwell upon this startling\nfact. It is a fact established, not by a doubtful text or two, nor by a\nmere _ipse dixit_ of authority, but by the widest possible observation\nof life, by a concurrent witness of all teachers and all true religions.\nNo planetary movement, no recurrence of the seasons, no chemical\ntransformation, no physiological growth, no axiom of mathematics, is\nestablished on surer or more irrefutable grounds. Sin itself may even be\ndefined, from an induction of facts, as \"the act of a human will which,\nbeing contrary to the Divine Will, reacts with inevitable evil upon the\nagent.\" Sin is a presumptuous attempt on the part of a human will to\ndisturb the irresistible order of the Divine Will, and can only draw\ndown upon itself those lightnings of the Divine power, which otherwise\nwould have flashed through the heavens beautiful and beneficent.\n\nLet us, then, try to impress upon our minds that, not in the one sin\nof which we have been speaking only, but in all sins alike, certain\nbands are being woven, certain cords twisted, certain chains forged,\nwhich must one day take and hold the sinner with galling stringency.\n\nEvery sin is preparing for us a band of shame to be wound about our\nbrows and tightened to the torture-point. There are many gross and\ngenerally condemned actions which when they are exposed bring their\nimmediate penalty. To be discovered in dishonourable dealing, to have\nour hidden enormities brought into the light of day, to forfeit by\nfeeble vices a fair and dignified position, will load a conscience\nwhich is not quite callous with a burden of shame that makes life\nquite intolerable. But there are many sins which do not entail this\nscornful censure of our fellows, sins with which _they_ have a secret\nsympathy, for which _they_ cherish an ill-disguised admiration,--the\nmore heroic sins of daring ambition, victorious selfishness, or proud\ndefiance of God. None the less these tolerated iniquities are weaving\nthe inevitable band of shame for the brow: we shall not always be\ncalled on only to face our fellows, for we are by our creation the\nsons of God, in whose image we are made, and eventually we must\nconfront the children of Light, must look straight up into the face of\nGod, with these sins--venial as they were thought--set in the light of\nHis countenance. Then will the guilty spirit burn with an\nindescribable and unbearable shame,--\"To hide my head! To bury my eyes\nthat they may not see the rays of the Eternal Light,\" will be its cry.\nMay we not say with truth that the shame which comes from the judgment\nof our fellows is the most tolerable of the bands of shame?\n\nAgain, every sin is preparing for us a loss of wealth, of the only\nwealth which is really durable, the treasure in the heavens; every sin\nis capable of \"bringing a man to a piece of bread,\"[93] filching from\nhim all the food on which the spirit lives. It is too common a sight\nto see a young spendthrift who has run through his patrimony in a few\nyears, who must pass through the bankruptcy court, and who has\nburdened his estate and his name with charges and reproaches from\nwhich he can never again shake himself free. But that is only a\nsuperficial illustration of a spiritual reality. Every sin is the\nprecursor of spiritual bankruptcy; it is setting one's hand to a bill\nwhich, when it comes in, must break the wealthiest signatory.\n\nThat little sin of yours, trivial as it seems,--the mere inadvertence,\nthe light-hearted carelessness, the petty spleen, the innocent\nromancing, the gradual hardening of the heart,--is, if you would see\nit, like scratching with a pen through and through a writing on a\nparchment. What is this writing? What is this parchment? It is a\ntitle-deed to an inheritance, the inheritance of the saints in light.\nYou are quietly erasing your name from it and blotching its fair\ncharacters. When you come to the day of account, you will show your\nclaim, and it will be illegible. \"What,\" you will say, \"am I to lose\nthis great possession for this trifling scratch of the pen?\" \"Even\nso,\" says the Inexorable; \"it is precisely in this way that the\ninheritance is lost; not, as a rule, by deliberate and reckless\ndestruction of the mighty treasure, but by the thoughtless triviality,\nthe indolent easifulness. See you, it is the work of your own hand.\n_His own iniquities shall take the wicked._\"\n\nAgain, every sin is the gradual undermining of the health, not so much\nthe body's, as the soul's health. Those are, as it were, the slightest\nsins by which \"the flesh and the body are consumed.\" \"Who hath wounds\nwithout cause? Who hath redness of eyes?\" Who is stricken and hurt and\nbeaten, bitten as if by an adder, stung as if by a serpent?[94] It is\nthe victim of drink, and every feature shows how he is holden by the\ncords of his sin. But there is one who is drunk with the blood of his\nfellow-men, and has thriven at the expense of the poor, who yet is\ntemperate, healthy, and strong. The disease of his soul does not come to\nthe light of day. None the less it is there. The sanity of soul which\nalone can preserve the life in the Eternal World and in the presence of\nGod is fatally disturbed by every sin. A virus enters the spirit; germs\nobtain a lodgment there. The days pass, the years pass. The respected\ncitizen, portly, rich, and courted, goes at last in a good old age from\nthe scene of his prosperity here,--surely to a fairer home above?\n\nAlas, the soul if it were to come into those fadeless mansions would\nbe found smitten with a leprosy. This is no superficial malady;\nthrough and through the whole head is sick, the whole heart faint.\nStrange that men never noticed it down there in the busy world. But\nthe fact is, _it is the air of heaven which brings out these\nsuppressed disorders_. And the diseased soul whispers, \"Take me out of\nthis air, I beseech you, at all costs. I must have change of climate.\nThis atmosphere is intolerable to me. I can only be well out of\nheaven.\" \"Poor spirit,\" murmur the angels, \"he says the truth;\ncertainly he could not live here.\"\n\nFinally, the worst chain forged in the furnace of sin is Remorse: for\nno one can guarantee to the sinner an eternal insensibility; rather it\nseems quite unavoidable that some day he must awake, and standing\nshamed before the eyes of his Maker, stripped of all his possessions\nand hopelessly diseased in soul, must recognize clearly what might\nhave been and now cannot be. Memory will be busy. \"Ah! that cursed\nmemory!\" he cries. It brings back all the gentle pleadings of his\nmother in that pure home long ago; it brings back all his father's\ncounsels; it brings back the words which were spoken from the pulpit,\nand all the conversations with godly friends. He remembers how he\nwavered--\"Shall it be the strait and hallowed road, or shall it be the\nbroad road of destruction?\" He remembers all the pleas and\ncounterpleas, and how with open eyes he chose the way which, as he\nsaw, went down to death. And now? Now it is irrevocable. He said he\nwould take his luck, and he has taken it. He said God would not punish\na poor creature like him. God does not punish him. No, there is God\nmaking level all his paths now as of old. This punishment is not\nGod's; it is his own. _His own iniquities have taken the wicked; he is\nheld with the cords of his sin._\n\nHere then is the plain, stern truth,--a law, not of Nature only, but\nof the Universe. As you look into a fact so solemn, so awful; as the\ncadence of the chapter closes, do you not seem to perceive with a new\nclearness how men needed One who could take away the sins of the\nworld, One who could break those cruel bonds which men have made for\nthemselves?\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[72] Prov. xiv. 12.\n\n[73] Prov. v. 8.\n\n[74] The Laureate has touched with stern satire on this debased modern\nRealism:--\n\n \"Author, atheist, essayist, novelist, realist, rhymester,\n play your part,\n Paint the mortal shame of Nature with the living hues of Art.\n Rip your brothers' vices open, strip your own foul passions\n bare,\n Down with Reticence, down with Reverence--forward--naked--let\n them stare!\n Feed the budding rose of boyhood with the drainage of your\n sewer,\n Send the drain into the fountain lest the stream should\n issue pure.\n Set the maiden fancies wallowing in the troughs of Zolaism,\n Forward, forward,--aye and backward, downward too into the\n abysm!\"\n --_The new Locksley Hall._\n\n[75] Prov. ix. 17.\n\n[76] Prov. vi. 25.\n\n[77] Prov. vii. 16, 17.\n\n[78] Prov. v. 15-19.\n\n[79] _Paradise Lost._\n\n[80] Prov. vi. 27, 28.\n\n[81] Prov. v. 9.\n\n[82] Prov. vi. 33.\n\n[83] Prov. vi. 34, 35.\n\n[84] Prov. v. 10.\n\n[85] Prov. vi. 26.\n\n[86] Prov. v. 11.\n\n[87] Prov. v. 12-14.\n\n[88] Prov. v. 21.\n\n[89] It is, if we may say so, a maxim of modern science that \"A sin\nwithout punishment is as impossible, as complete a contradiction in\nterms, as a cause without an effect\" (W. R. Gregg).\n\n[90] Prov. v. 23.\n\n[91] _King Lear._\n\n[92] Mark iii. 26.\n\n[93] Prov. vi. 26.\n\n[94] Prov. xxiii. 29, 32.\n\n\n\n\n VI.\n\n _CERTAIN EXAMPLES OF THE BINDING CHARACTER\n OF OUR OWN ACTIONS._\n\n \"The surety ... the sluggard ... and the worthless person.\"--PROV.\n vi. 1, 6, 12.\n\n\nFrom the solemn principle announced at the close of the last chapter\nthe teacher passes, almost unconscious of the thought which determines\nhis selection of subjects, to illustrate the truth by three\nexamples,--that of the Surety, that of the Sluggard, that of the\nWorthless Man. And then, because the horrors of impurity are the most\nstriking and terrible instance of all, this subject, coming up again\nat v. 20, like the dark ground tone of the picture, finally runs into\nthe long and detailed description of chap. vii.\n\nThese three examples are full of interest, partly because of the light\nthey throw on the habits and moral sentiments of the time in which\nthis Introduction was written, but chiefly because of the permanent\nteaching which is luminous in them all, and especially in the third.\n\nWe may spend a few minutes upon the first. The young man finding his\nneighbour in monetary difficulties, consents in an easy-going way to\nbecome his surety; he enters into a solemn pledge with the creditor,\nprobably a Ph\u0153nician money-lender, that he will himself be responsible\nif the debtor is not prepared to pay at the appointed time. He now\nstands committed; he is like a roe that is caught by the hunter, or a\nbird that is held by the fowler, in the hand of his neighbour. His peace\nof mind, and his welfare, depend no longer upon himself, but upon the\ncharacter, the weakness, the caprice of another. This is a good\nillustration of the way in which a thoughtless action may weave cruel\nbands to bind the unwary. Looking at the matter from this point of view,\nour book strongly and frequently denounces the practice of suretiship.\nTo become surety for another shows that you are void of understanding.\nSo foolish is the action that it is compared to the surrender of one's\nown garments, and even to the loss of personal freedom. A proverb\ndeclares: \"He that is surety for a stranger shall smart for it, but he\nthat hateth suretiship is sure.\"[95]\n\nIf then the young man has immeshed himself in obligations of this kind,\nhe is recommended to spare no pains, not to stand upon a false pride,\nbut to go with all urgency, with frank abasement, to the man for whom he\nhas pledged his credit, and at all costs to get released from the\nobligation. \"Be thou not,\" says Wisdom, \"one of them that strike hands,\nor of them that are sureties for debts: if thou hast not wherewith to\npay, why should he take away thy bed from under thee?\"[96]\n\nWe feel at once that there is another side to the question. There may\nbe cases in which a true brotherliness will require us to be surety\nfor our friend. \"An honest man is surety for his neighbour, but he\nthat is impudent will forsake him,\" says Ecclesiasticus. And from\nanother point of view an injunction has to be given to one who has\npersuaded his friend to stand as his surety,--\"Forget not the\nfriendship of thy surety, for he hath given his life for thee. A\nsinner will overthrow the good estate of his surety, and he that is of\nan unthankful mind will leave him in danger that delivered him.\" But\nconfining ourselves to the standpoint of the text, we may well raise a\nnote of warning against the whole practice. As Ecclesiasticus himself\nsays, \"Suretiship hath undone many of good estate, and shaken them as\na wave of the sea: mighty men hath it driven from their houses, so\nthat they wandered among strange nations. A wicked man transgressing\nthe commandments of the Lord shall fall into suretiship.\"[97]\n\nWe may say perhaps that the truly moral course in these relations with\nour fellows lies here: if we can afford to be a surety for our\nneighbour, we can clearly afford to lend him the money ourselves. If we\ncannot afford to lend it to him, then it is weak and foolish, and may\neasily become wicked and criminal, to make our peace of mind dependent\non the action of a third person, while in all probability it is hurtful\nto our friend himself, because by consenting to divide the risks with\nthe actual creditor we tend to lessen in the debtor's mind the full\nrealization of his indebtedness, and thus encourage him in shifty\ncourses and unnerve his manly sense of responsibility. The cases in\nwhich it is wise as well as kind to become bail for another are so rare\nthat they may practically be ignored in this connection; and when these\nrare occasions occur they may safely be left to the arbitrament of other\nprinciples of conduct which in the present instance are out of view.\nHere it is enough to emphasise what a miserable chain thoughtlessness in\nthe matter of suretiship may forge for the thoughtless.\n\nWe may now pass to our second illustration, the poverty and ruin which\nmust eventually overtake _the Sluggard_. \"I went by the field of the\nslothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding; and,\nlo, it was all grown over with thorns. The face thereof was covered\nwith nettles, and the stone wall thereof was broken down. Then I\nbeheld, and considered well: I saw, and received instruction.\"[98] And\nthere is the lazy owner of this neglected farm murmuring, \"Yet a\nlittle sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to\nsleep.\" There seem to be in every community a certain number of people\nwho can only be described as constitutionally incapable: as children\nthey are heavy and phlegmatic; at school they are always playing\ntruant, and exerting themselves, if at all, to escape the irksome\nnecessity of learning anything; when they enter into life for\nthemselves they have no notion of honest effort and steady\npersistency, but directly their employment becomes distasteful they\nquit it; and at length, when they end their days in the workhouse, or\nin those shameful haunts of sin and vice to which sloth so easily\nleads, they have the melancholy reflection to take with them to the\ngrave that they have proved themselves an encumbrance of the earth,\nand can be welcomed in no conceivable world. Now the question must\nforce itself upon our attention, Might not these incapables be rescued\nif they were taken young enough, and taught by wholesome discipline\nand a wise education what will be the inevitable issue of their\nlethargic tendencies? Might not the farm of the sluggard be impressed\non their very eyeballs as a perpetual and effective warning?\n\nLeaving this important question to social reformers, we may note how\nbeautifully this book employs the examples of insect life to teach and\nstimulate human beings. \"The ants are a people not strong. Yet they\nprovide their meat in summer.... The locusts have no king. Yet go they\nforth all of them by bands.\"[99] \"Go to the ant, thou sluggard;\nconsider her ways, and be wise: which having no chief, overseer,[100]\nor ruler, provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in\nthe harvest.\"[101] By this little touch the book of Proverbs has\nturned the magnificent fields of modern scientific observation, and\nall the astonishing revelations of the microscope, into a school of\nmoral and spiritual discipline for human life. Thus the ants swarm in\nthe woods and the fields as if to rebuke the laziness and\nthriftlessness of man. They work night and day; they store their\ngalleries with food; they capture and nourish aphides, which they use\nas a kind of domestic cattle. The vast and symmetrical mounds, which\nthey rear as habitations and barns, are, relatively to the size of the\nbuilders, three or four times larger than the pyramids. By what\nmysterious instinct those long lines of labourers march and work in\nunison; by what half-human impulses they form in serried hosts and\nengage in deadly battles prolonged through several days; by what\nludicrous freaks they are led to imitate men, spending their lives in\npampered luxury, dependent upon slaves, until at last in their\nhelplessness they are mastered by their bondservants in revolt; by\nwhat heavenly motive they are stirred to feed and nourish and nurse\none another in sickness and trouble,--we need not here enquire, for we\nare only told to go to the ant in order to learn her ways of ceaseless\nactivity. But in this brief precept we seem to receive a hint of the\nboundless instruction and warning to be derived from the humbler\ninhabitants of this earth which man claims as his own.\n\nLet us pass to the _third_ illustration of the theme. The surety is the\nvictim of easygoing thoughtlessness, the sluggard is the victim of\nlaziness and incapacity; but now there appears on the scene the\nthoroughly worthless character, the man of Belial, and after his\nportrait is drawn in a few touches, his sudden and hopeless ruin is\nannounced in a way which is all the more striking because the connection\nbetween the sin and its punishment is left to be guessed rather than\nexplained.[102] The description of this person is wonderfully graphic\nand instructive, and we must dwell for a moment on the details. We see\nhim, not in repose, but busy going from place to place, and talking a\ngreat deal. His lips are shaped continually to lie,--\"he walketh with a\nfroward mouth.\" There is no straightforwardness about him; he is full of\nhint, suggestion, innuendo; he gives you always the idea that he has an\naccomplice in the background; he turns to you and winks in a knowing\nway; he has a habit of shuffling with his feet, as if some evil spirit\nforbade him to stand still; you constantly catch him gesticulating; he\npoints with his thumb over his shoulder, and nods significantly; he is\nnever better pleased than when he can give the impression of knowing a\ngreat deal more than he cares to say. He delights to wrap himself in\nmystery--to smile blandly and then relapse into a look of\ninscrutability--to frown severely and then assume an air of gentle\ninnocence. He is in the habit of beckoning one into a corner, and making\na whispered communication as if he were your particular friend, as if he\nhad taken a fancy to you directly he saw you, and was therefore eager to\ngive you some information which nothing would induce him to divulge to\nanyone else; if you are foolish enough to share his confidences, he\ngives you very soon, when others are standing by, a cunning leer, as if\nto intimate that you and he are old acquaintances, and are in the\nsecret, which the rest do not know.[103]\n\nThe fact is that his heart is as deceitful as his lips; he cannot be\ntrue on any terms. If some simple and open course occurred to his mind\nhe would shun it instinctively, because it is in devising evil that he\nlives and moves and has his being. His friendliest approaches fill an\nhonest man with misgiving, his words of affection or admiration send a\ncold shudder through one's frame. His face is a mask; when it looks\nfair you suspect villainy; when it looks villainous, and then only,\nyou recognize that it is true. Wherever he goes he makes mischief, he\ncauses divisions; he is the Iago of every play in which he takes a\npart, the Judas of every society of which he is a member. He manages\nto sow suspicion in the mind of the least suspicious, and to cast a\nslur on the character of the most innocent. When he has created\ndiscord between friends he is delighted. If he sees them disposed to a\nreconciliation, he comes forward as a mediator and takes care to\nexasperate the differences, and to make the breach irreparable. Like\nEdmund in _King Lear_, he has a genius for setting men at variance,\nand for so arranging his plots that each party thinks he hears with\nhis own ears and sees with his own eyes the proof of the other's\nperfidy. But, unlike Edmund, he does the mischief, not for any special\ngood to himself, but for the mere delight of being an agent of evil.\n\nIt is this kind of man that is the pest of commerce. He introduces\ndishonest practices into every business that he touches. He makes it a\nprinciple that in selling you are to impose on the customer, avail\nyourself of his ignorance or prejudice or weakness, and hide\neverything which might incline him to draw back; while in buying you\nare to use any fraud or panic or misrepresentation which might induce\nthe seller to lower the price.[104] When he has been in a business for\na little while the whole concern becomes tainted, there is a slime\nover everything; the very atmosphere is fetid.\n\nIt is this kind of man that is the bane of every social circle. In his\npresence, all simplicity and innocence, all charity and forbearance\nand compassion, seem to wither away. If you are true and\nstraightforward he manages to make you ridiculous; under his evil\nspell you seem a simpleton. All genial laughter he turns into sardonic\nsmiles and sneers; all kindly expressions he transforms into empty\ncompliments which are not devoid of a hidden venom. He is often very\nwitty, but his wit clings like an eating acid to everything that is\ngood and pure; his tongue will lodge a germ of putrescence in\neverything which it touches.\n\nIt is this kind of man that is the leaven of hypocrisy and malice in\nthe Christian Church; he intrigues and cabals. He sets the people\nagainst the minister and stirs up the minister to suspect his people.\nHe undertakes religious work, because it is in that capacity he can do\nmost mischief. He is never better pleased than when he can pose as the\nchampion of orthodoxy, because then he seems to be sheltered and\napproved by the banner which he is defending.\n\n\"_Therefore_ shall his calamity come suddenly.\"[105] It is because the\ncharacter is so incurably base, so saturated with lies and\ninsincerities, that there can be no gradations or temperings in his\npunishment. One who is less evil may be proved and tested with slight\ntroubles, if possibly he may be stirred to amendment. But this utterly\nworthless person is quite unaffected by the smaller trials, the\ntentative disciplines of life. He cannot be chastised as a son; he can\nonly be broken as a vessel in which there is an intrinsic flaw; or as\na building, which has got the plague in its very mortar and plaster.\n\nWe are told that in Sierra Leone the white ants will sometimes occupy a\nhouse, and eat their way into all the woodwork, until every article in\nthe house is hollow, so that it will collapse into dust directly it is\ntouched. It is so with this deceitful character, so honeycombed, and\neaten through, that though for years it may maintain its plausible\nappearance in the world, few people even suspecting the extent of the\ninward decay, on a sudden the end will come; there will be one touch of\nthe finger of God, and the whole ill-compacted, worm-devoured thing will\ncrumble into matchwood: \"He shall be broken, and that without remedy.\"\n\nBut while we are thus watching this worthless soul overtaken with an\ninevitable calamity, we are reminded that not only are our eyes upon\nhim, but the Lord also sees him. And to that calm and holy watcher of\nthe poor sinful creature there are six things which appear specially\nhateful--seven which are an abomination of His soul.[106] Is there not\na kind of comfort in the thought that the Lord watches and knows the\nwhole story of that miserable life, not leaving it to us to condemn,\nbut taking upon Himself the whole responsibility? He knows whether\nthere is a reason in nature for these bad hearts; He knows too what\npower outside of nature can change and redeem them. But at present we\nwant only to mark and consider these seven things which are abominable\nto God--the seven prominent traits of the character which has just\nbeen depicted. We seem to need some spiritual quickening, that we may\nobserve these hateful things not only with our own natural repugnance,\nbut with something of the holy hatred and the inward loathing which\nthey produce in the Divine mind.\n\n1. _Haughty eyes._ \"There is a generation, Oh how lofty are their\neyes! And their eyelids are lifted up.\"[107] And to that generation\nhow many of us belong, and what secret admiration do we cherish for\nit, even when we can honestly disclaim any blood relationship! That\nhaughty air of the great noble; that sense of intrinsic superiority;\nthat graciousness of manner which comes from a feeling that no\ncomparison can possibly be instituted between the great man and his\ninferiors; that way of surveying the whole earth as if it were one's\nprivate estate; or that supreme satisfaction with one's private estate\nas if it were the whole earth! This lofty pride, when its teeth are\ndrawn so that it cannot materially hurt the rest of mankind, is a\nsubject of mirth to us; but to the Lord it is not, it is hateful and\nabominable; it ranks with the gross vices and the worst sins; it is\nthe chief crime of Satan.\n\n2. _A lying tongue_, though it \"is but for a moment.\"[108] It is the\nsure sign of God's intense hatred against lies that they recoil on the\nhead of the liar, and are the harbingers of certain destruction. We\ndislike lies because of their social inconvenience, and where some\nsocial convenience is served by them we connive at them and approve.\nBut God hates the lying tongue, whatever apparent advantage comes from\nit. If we lie for personal gain He hates it. If we lie from mere\nweakness, He hates it. If we lie in the name of religion, and in the\nfashion of the Jesuit, for the welfare of men and the salvation of\nsouls, He hates it none the less. The abomination does not consist in\nthe motive of the lie, but in the lie itself.\n\n3. _Hands that shed innocent blood._ So hateful are they to Him that\nHe could not let David His chosen servant build Him a house because\nthis charge could be laid against the great king. The soldier in the\nbattle-field hewing down the man who is innocent, and the man who in\ncarelessness or greed is wearing the poor, who are dependent on him,\ndown to death, and the man who in a passion rises up and murders his\nfellow,--these are very hateful to the Lord. There at the beginning of\nthe world's history, in the blood of righteous Abel crying to the\nLord, and in the mark set on the guilty brow of Cain, the heart of God\nwas clearly and finally shown. He has not changed. He does not shed\ninnocent blood Himself; He cannot away with them that shed it.\n\n4. Hateful too to Him is _the devising heart_, even where courage or\nopportunity fails of realizing the device. There are so many more\nmurderers in the world than we see, so many cruel and wicked deeds\nrestrained by the police or by a dominant public sentiment, which yet\nlie deep in the wicked imaginations of our hearts, and are abominable\nto God, that we may be thankful if we do not see as He sees, and may\nwonder at the forbearance of His compassion.\n\n5. _Feet that be swift in running to mischief._ Feet listless in the\nways of brotherly service or holy worship, but swift, twinkling with\neager haste, when any mischief is toward, are marked by God--and hated.\n\n6. And _a false witness_ is abominable to Him, the poisoner of all\nsocial life, the destroyer of all justice between man and man. Again and\nagain in this book is censure passed upon this unpardonable crime.[109]\n\n7. Finally, as the blessing of Heaven descends on the peacemaker, so\nthe hatred of God assails the man _who sows discord among brethren_.\n\nSuch is the character that God abominates, the character which binds\nitself with cords of penalty and falls into irretrievable ruin. And\nthen, after this disquisition on some of the vices which destroy the\nindividual life and disturb society, our author turns again to that\nsnaring vice which is so much the more destructive because it comes\nunder the guise, not of hate, but of love. Those other vices after all\nbear their evil on their faces, but this is veiled and enchanted with\na thousand plausible sophistries; it pleads the instincts of nature,\nthe fascinations of beauty, the faults of the present social state,\nand even advances the august precepts of science. Surely in a way\nwhere such a danger lurks we need a commandment which will shine as a\nlamp, a law which will be itself a light (ver. 23).\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[95] See Prov. xvii. 18, xx. 16, repeated in xxvii. 13, and especially\nxi. 15.\n\n[96] Prov. xxii. 26, 27.\n\n[97] Eccles. xxix. 14, 16, 17, 18, 19.\n\n[98] Prov. xxiv. 30-34; see for a fuller treatment of the subject\nLecture XX.\n\n[99] Prov. xxx. 25-27.\n\n[100] It is the word used in Exod. v. 6 of those who directed the\ntasks of the Israelites in Egypt.\n\n[101] Prov. vi. 6-8.\n\n[102] Prov. vi. 12-15.\n\n[103] _Cf._ the proverb xvi. 30--\"He that shutteth his eyes, it is to\ndevise froward things: he that compresseth his lips bringeth evil to\npass.\"\n\n[104] _Cf._ Prov. xx. 14: \"It is naught, it is naught, saith the\nbuyer: but when he is gone his way, then he boasteth.\"\n\n[105] It is probably assumed that warnings and corrections have been\ngiven him in vain--_cf._ Prov. xxix. 1: \"He that being often reproved\nhardeneth his neck shall suddenly be broken, and that without remedy.\"\n\n[106] Prov. vi. 16-19.\n\n[107] Prov. xxx. 13. See Lecture XIII. for the teaching of the\nProverbs on Pride.\n\n[108] Prov. xii. 19.\n\n[109] See Prov. xii. 17; xiv. 5, 25; xix. 5, 9. A crime, it may be\nremembered, which would be much more common and much more fatal in a\nprimitive state of society, where on the one hand legal procedure was\nless cautious and less searching, and on the other hand the inward\nsanctions of truth which Christianity has brought home to the modern\nconscience were but feebly perceived.\n\n\n\n\n VII.\n\n _REALISM IN MORAL TEACHING._\n\n \"I looked forth through my lattice; and I beheld.\"--PROV. vii. 6.\n\n\nThe three chapters which close the introduction of our book (vii.-ix.)\npresent a lively and picturesque contrast between Folly and\nWisdom---Folly more especially in the form of vice; Wisdom more\ngenerally in her highest and most universal intention. Folly is\nthroughout concrete, an actual woman, pourtrayed with such correctness\nof detail that she is felt as a personal force. Wisdom, on the other\nhand, is only personified; she is an abstract conception; she speaks\nwith human lips in order to carry out the parallel, but she is not a\nhuman being, known to the writer. As we shall see in the next Lecture,\nthis high Wisdom never took a human shape until the Incarnation of our\nLord Jesus Christ; Folly, unhappily, had become incarnate in myriads\nof instances; scarcely any city or place where men congregate was, or\nis, without its melancholy example. It follows from this difference\nbetween the two that the picture of Folly is a piece of vigorous\nrealism, while the account of Wisdom is a piece of delicate idealism.\nFolly is historical, Wisdom is prophetic. In this chapter we are\nconcerned with facts which the author witnessed from the window of his\nhouse looking forth through the lattice.[110] In the next chapter we\nshall touch on ideas which he had not seen, and could not have seen\nunless it were in lofty vision looking out through the lattice of the\nsoul. In the present chapter we have an opportunity of noticing the\nimmense value and power of pictorial delineation and concrete images\nin moral teaching; in the next we shall experience the peculiar\nfascination and inspiration of beautiful abstract conceptions, of\ndisembodied ideals which, so far as we know at the time, are not\ncapable of actual realization.\n\nIt is important to remember this difference in order to understand why\nWisdom, the shadowy contrast to that Mistress Folly who was only too\nconcrete and familiar, shaped itself to the writer's mind as a fair\nand stately woman, a queenly hostess inviting simple ones to her\nfeast; though, as Christians have learnt, the historical embodiment of\nWisdom was a man, the Word of God, who of God was made unto us wisdom.\n\nNow before we take our stand at the window and look through the\nlattice into the street, we must notice the exhortations to the young\nman to make wisdom and understanding his intimate friends, with which\nthe chapter begins. The law is to be kept as the apple of the eye,\nwhich is so sensitive, so tender, and at the same time so surpassingly\nimportant, that the lid has to shield it by a quick instinctive\nmovement outrunning thought, and the hand has to be ready at all times\nto come to its succour. The commandments are to be written on the\nfingers, like engraved rings, which would serve as instant reminders\nin unwary moments; the very instruments through which the evil would\nbe done are to be claimed and sealed and inscribed by the\nrighteousness which can preserve from evil, while in the secret\ntablets of the heart the holy truths are to be written; so that if, in\nthe business of life, the writing on the fingers may get blurred or\neffaced, the principles of righteousness may yet be kept like\npriceless archives stored in the inviolable chambers of the inner man.\nWisdom is to be treated as a sister,[111] not as if there were a\nnatural kinship, but on the ground of the beautiful influence which a\ntrue sister, a pure woman soul, exercises over a young man's life. It\nis given to a sister again and again, by unfailing sympathy and by\nsweet comprehending ways, not teasing nor lecturing, but always\nbelieving and hoping and loving, to weave a magical spell of goodness\nand truth around a brother who is exposed to dangerous temptations;\nshe will \"maintain for him a saving intercourse with his true self;\"\nwhen the fires of more ardent affections are burning low, or\nextinguished in doubt or disgust, she will be with him like a calm\nimpersonal presence, unobtrusive, unforgotten, the more potent because\nshe makes no show of power. Such a lovely fraternal relation is to be\nmaintained with Wisdom, constant as a tie of blood, firm as a\ncompanionship from earliest infancy, yet exalted and enthusiastic in\nits way, and promising a lifelong attraction and authority.\n\nThis blessed kinship with Understanding should save the young man from\nsuch a fate as we are now to contemplate.\n\nIt is twilight, not yet absolutely dark, but the shuddering horror of\nthe scene seems to quench the doubtful glimmer of evening and to\nplunge the observer suddenly into midnight.[112] There is a young man\ncoming round the corner of the street. His is no manly walk, but an\nidle, effeminate saunter--a detail which is not brought out in the\nEnglish Version.[113] He is a dandy and sadly empty-headed. Now all\nyoung men, good and bad alike, pass through a period of dandyism, and\nit has its uses; but the better the stuff of which the man is made,\nthe more quickly he gets over the crisis, and returns to his senses.\nThis young man is \"void of understanding;\" his dandyism will be\nchronic. His is a feeble will and a prurient mind; but his special\nweakness consists in this, that he thinks he can always resist\ntemptation, and therefore never hesitates to thrust himself in its\nway. It is as if one were to pride himself on being able to hang on\nwith his fingers to the rim of a well: he is always hanging there, and\na touch will send him in. One who is in his own opinion weaker would\ngive the dangerous place a wide berth, and nothing but sheer force\nwould bring him to the edge.\n\nThis young dandy has nothing to say for himself. A tempter need not be\nat the trouble to bring any sound arguments, or to make the worse appear\nthe better reason; to this poor weakling the worse the reason is the\nbetter it will appear. As you see him lolling down the path with his\nleering look and his infinite self-satisfaction--good-natured, but\nwithout any other goodness; not with bad intentions, but with everything\nelse bad--you can foresee that he will be blown over as easily as a\npleasure skiff on a stormy ocean; if you have a compassionate heart you\nmourn over him at once, for you see the inevitable.\n\nThe woman has come out to meet him--like a bird-catcher who has been\nwatching for the unwary bird. Now he should escape at once, for her\nvery attire warns him of her intentions. But this is just his\nweakness; he delights to place himself in such a position; he would\nsay that it is the proof of his manliness that he can resist. She\napproaches him with a smirk and a smile, with an open countenance but\na closed heart. She utters a sound, moving and pathetic like the\nmurmur of harp-strings;[114] it comes from that inward tumult of\npassion in the woman's nature which always flutters the heart of a\nweak youth.[115] She is a wild undisciplined creature; she always\nhankers after the forbidden; the quiet home ways are insufferable to\nher; out in the streets, with their excitement, their variety, their\nsuggestions, their possibilities, she forgets, if she does not quiet,\nher restlessness. The poor woman-nature which, rightly taught and\ntrained, might make the beauty and sweetness of a home, capable of\nsanctified affections and of self-sacrificing devotion, is here\nentirely perverted. The passion is poisoned and now poisonous. The\nenergy is diseased. The charms are all spurious. She goes abroad in\nthe blackness of night because in even a faint light her hideousness\nwould appear; under the paint and the finery she is a hag; her eyes\nare lustreless but for the temporary fire of her corruptions; behind\nthat voice which croons and ripples there is a subdued moan of\ndespair--the jarring of harp-strings which snap and quiver and\nshudder and are silent for ever. The wise man looks at her with\ncompassionate loathing, God with pity which yearns to save; but this\nfoolish youth is moved by her as only a fool could be moved. His weak\nunderstanding is immediately overcome by her flatteries; his polluted\nheart does not perceive the poison of her heartless endearments.\n\nShe throws her arms round him and kisses him, and he makes no question\nthat it is a tribute to the personal attractions which he has himself\noften admired in his mirror. She would have him believe that it was he\nwhom she had come out specially to seek, though it would have been\njust the same whoever had caught her eye; and he, deceived by his own\nvanity, at once believes her. She has a great deal to say; she does\nnot rely on one inducement, for she does not know with whom she has to\ndo; she pours out therefore all her allurements in succession without\nstopping to take breath.\n\nFirst, she holds out the prospect of a good meal. She has abundant\nmeat in the house, which comes from the sacrifice she has just been\noffering, and it must be eaten by the next day, according to the\ncommandment of the Law.[116] Or if he is not one to be attracted\nmerely by food, she has appeals to his \u00e6sthetic side; her furniture is\nrich and artistic, and her chamber is perfumed with sweet spices. She\nperceives perhaps by now what a weak, faint-hearted creature,\nenervated by vice, unmanly and nervous, she has to do with, and she\nhastens to assure him that his precious skin will be safe. Her goodman\nis not at home, and his absence will be prolonged; he took money with\nhim for a long journey, and she knows the date of his return. The\nfoolish youth need not fear, therefore, \"that jealousy which is the\nrage of a man;\" he will not have to offer gifts and ransom to the\nimplacable husband, because his deed will never be known. How hollow\nit all sounds, and how suspicious; surely one who had a grain of\nunderstanding would answer with manly scorn and with kindling\nindignation. But our poor young fool, who was so confident of himself,\nyields without a struggle; with her mere talk, playing upon his\nvanity, she bends him as if he were a water-weed in a stream--her\nappeals to his self-admiration drive him forth as easily as the goads\nurge an ox to the slaughter-house.\n\nAnd now you may watch him going after her to destruction!\n\nIs there not a pathos in the sight of an ox going to the slaughter? The\npoor dumb creature is lured by the offer of food or driven by the lash\nof the driver. It enters the slaughter-house as if it were a stall for\nrest and refreshment; it has no idea that \"it is for its life.\" The\nbutcher knows; the bystanders understand the signs; but it is perfectly\ninsensible, taking a transitory pleasure in the unwonted attentions\nwhich are really the portents of death. It is not endeared to us by any\nspecial interest or affection; the dull, stupid life has never come into\nany close connection with ours. It has never been to us like a favourite\ndog, or a pet bird that has cheered our solitary hours. It gave us no\nresponse when we spoke to it or stroked its sleek hide. It was merely an\nanimal. But yet it moves our pity at this supreme moment of its life; we\ndo not like to think of the heavy blow which will soon lay the great\nslow-pacing form prostrate and still in death.\n\nHere is an ox going to the slaughter,--but it is a fellow-man, a young\nman, not meant for ignominious death, capable of a good and noble\nlife. The poor degraded woman who lures him to his ruin has no such\nmotive of serviceableness as the butcher has. By a malign influence\nshe attracts him, an influence even more fatal to herself than to him.\nAnd he appears quite insensible,--occupied entirely with reflections\non his glossy skin and goodly form; not suspecting that bystanders\nhave any other sentiment than admiration of his attractions and\napproval of his manliness, he goes quietly, unresistingly, lured\nrather than driven, to the slaughter-house.\n\nThe effect of comparison with dumb animals is heightened by throwing\nin a more direct comparison with other human beings. Transposing the\nwords, with Delitzsch, as is evidently necessary in order to preserve\nthe parallelism of the similitude, we find this little touch: \"He\ngoeth after her straightway, as a fool to the correction of the\nfetters,\"--as if the Teacher would remind us that the fate of the\nyoung man, tragic as it is, is yet quite devoid of the noble aspects\nof tragedy. This clause is a kind of afterthought, a modification.\n\"Did we say that he is like the ox going to the slaughter?--nay, there\nis a certain dignity in that image, for the ox is innocent of its own\ndoom, and by its death many will benefit; with our pity for it we\ncannot but mingle a certain gratitude, and we find no room for\ncensure; but this entrapped weakling is after all only a fool, of no\nservice or interest to any one, without any of the dignity of our good\ndomestic cattle; in his corrupt and witless heart is no innocence\nwhich should make us mourn. And the punishment he goes to, though it\nis ruin, is so mean and degrading that it awakes the jeers and scorn\nof the beholders. As if he were in the village stocks, he will be\nexposed to eyes which laugh while they despise him. Those who are\nimpure like himself will leer at him; those who are pure will avert\ntheir glance with an ill-disguised contempt.\" There, then, goes the ox\nto the slaughter; nay, the mere empty-headed fool to the punishment of\nthe fetters, which will keep him out of further mischief, and chain\nhim down to the dumb lifeless creation to which he seems to belong.\n\nBut the scorn changes rapidly to pity. Where a fellow-creature is\nconcerned we may not feel contempt beyond that point at which it\nserves as a rebuke, and a stimulus to better things. When we are\ndisposed to turn away with a scornful smile, we become aware of the\nsuffering which the victim of his own sins will endure. It will be\nlike an arrow striking through the liver. Only a moment, and he will\nbe seized with the sharp pain which follows on indulgence. Oh the\nnausea and the loathing, when the morning breaks and he sees in all\ntheir naked repulsiveness the things which he allowed to fascinate him\nyester-eve! What a bitter taste is in his mouth; what a ghastly and\nlivid hue is on the cheek which he imagined fair! He is pierced; to\nmiserable physical sufferings is joined a sense of unspeakable\ndegradation, a wretched depression of spirits, a wish to die which is\nbalanced in horrid equilibrium by a fear of death.\n\nAnd now he will arise and flee out of this loathly house, which seems to\nbe strewn with dead men's bones and haunted by the moaning spirits of\nthe mighty host which have here gone down into Sheol. But what is this?\nHe cannot flee. He is held like a bird in the snare, which beats its\nwings and tries to fly in vain; the soft yielding net will rise and fall\nwith its efforts, but will not suffer it to escape. He cannot flee, for\nif he should escape those fatal doors, before to-morrow's sun sets he\nwill be seized with an overmastering passion, a craving which is like\nthe gnawing of a vulture at the liver; by an impulse which he cannot\nresist he will be drawn back to that very corner; there will not be\nagain any raptures, real or imagined, only racking and tormenting\ndesires; there will be no fascination of sight or scent or taste; all\nwill appear as it is--revolting; the perfumes will all be rank and\nsickly, the meat will all be blighted and fly-blown; but none the less\nhe must back; there, poor, miserable, quivering bird, he must render\nhimself, and must take his fill of--loves? no, of maudlin rapture and\nburning disgust; solace himself? no, but excite a desire which grows\nwith every satisfaction, which slowly and surely, like that loathsome\nmonster of the seas, slides its clinging suckers around him, and holds\nhim in an embrace more and more deadly until he finally succumbs.\n\nThen he perceives that the fatal step that he took was \"for his life,\"\nthat is, his life was at stake. When he entered into the trap, the die\nwas cast; hope was abandoned as he entered there. The house which\nappeared so attractive was a mere covered way to hell. The chambers\nwhich promised such imagined delights were on an incline which sloped\ndown to death.\n\nLook at him, during that brief passage from his foolish heedlessness to\nhis irretrievable ruin, a Rake's Progress presented in simple and vivid\npictures, which are so terrible because they are so absolutely true.\n\nAfter gazing for a few minutes upon the story, do we not feel its\npower? Are there not many who are deaf to all exhortations, who will\nnever attend to the words of Wisdom's mouth, who have a consummate art\nin stopping their ears to all the nobler appeals of life, who yet will\nbe arrested by this clear presentation of a fact, by the teacher's\ndetermination not to blink or underrate any of the attractions and\nseductions, and by his equal determination not to disguise or diminish\nany of the frightful results?\n\nWe may cherish the sweetness and the purity which reticence will often\npreserve, but when the sweetness and the purity are lost, reticence\nwill not bring them back, and duty seems to require that we should lay\naside our fastidiousness and speak out boldly in order to save the\nsoul of our brother.\n\nBut after dwelling on such a picture as this there is a thought which\nnaturally occurs to us; in our hearts a yearning awakes which the book\nof Proverbs is not capable of meeting. Warnings so terrible, early\ninstilled into the minds of our young men, may by God's grace be\neffectual in saving them from the decline into those evil ways, and\nfrom going astray in the paths of sin. Such warnings ought to be\ngiven, although they are painful and difficult to give. But when we\nhave gone wrong through lack of instruction, when a guilty silence has\nprevented our teachers from cautioning us, while the corrupt habits of\nsociety have drawn us insensibly into sin, and a thousand glozening\nexcuses have veiled from our eyes the danger until it is too late, is\nthere nothing left for us but to sink deeper and deeper into the\nslough, and to issue from it only to emerge in the chambers of death?\n\nTo this question Jesus gives the answer. He alone can give it. Even\nthat personified Wisdom whose lofty and philosophical utterances we\nshall hear in the next chapter, is not enough. No advice, no counsel,\nno purity, no sanctity of example can avail. It is useless to upbraid\na man with his sins when he is bound hand and foot with them and\ncannot escape. It is a mockery to point out, what is only too obvious,\nthat without holiness no man can see God, at a moment when the\nmiserable victim of sin can see nothing clearly except the fact that\nhe is without holiness. \"The pure in heart shall see God\" is an\nannouncement of exquisite beauty, it has a music which is like the\nmusic of the spheres, a music at which the doors of heaven seem to\nswing open; but it is merely a sentence of doom to those who are not\npure in heart. Jesus meets the corrupt and ruined nature with the\nassurance that He has come \"to seek and to save that which was lost.\"\nAnd lest a mere assertion should prove ineffectual to the materialised\nand fallen spirit, Jesus came and presented in the realism of the\nCross a picture of Redemption which could strike hearts that are too\ngross to feel and too deaf to hear. It might be possible to work out\nideally the redemption of man in the unseen and spiritual world. But\nactually, for men whose very sin makes them unspiritual, there seems\nto be no way of salvation which does not approach them in a tangible\nform. The horrible corruption and ruin of our physical nature, which\nis the work of sin, could be met only by the Incarnation, which should\nwork out a redemption through the flesh.\n\nAccordingly, here is a wonder which none can explain, but which none\ncan gainsay. When the victim of fleshly sin, suffering from the arrow\nwhich has pierced his liver, handed over as it seems to despair, is\nled to gaze upon the Crucified Christ, and to understand the meaning\nof His bearing our sins in His own body on the tree, he is touched, he\nis led to repentance, he is created anew, his flesh comes again to him\nas a little child, he can offer up to God the sacrifice of a contrite\nheart, and he is cleansed.\n\nThis is a fact which has been verified again and again by experience.\nAnd they who have marked the power of the Cross can never sufficiently\nadmire the wisdom and the love of God, who works by ways so entirely\nunlike our ways, and has resources at His command which surpass our\nconception and baffle our explanation.\n\nIf there is a man literally broken down and diseased with sin,\nenfeebled in will and purpose, tormented by his evil appetite so that\nhe seems like one possessed, the wisest counsels may be without any\neffect; paint in the most vivid hues the horrible consequences of his\nsin, but he will remain unmoved; apply the coercion of a prison and\nall the punishments which are at the disposal of an earthly judge, and\nhe will return to his vicious life with a gusto increased by his\nrecuperated physical strength; present to him the most touching\nappeals of wife and children and friends, and while he sheds\nsentimental tears he will continue to run the downward way. But let\nhim be arrested by the spectacle of Christ crucified for him, let the\nmoving thought of that priceless love and untold suffering stir in his\nheart, let his eyes be lifted never so faintly to those eyes of\nDivine compassion,--and though he seemed to have entered the very\nprecincts of the grave, though the heart within him seemed to have\ndied and the conscience seemed to be seared with a hot iron, you will\nobserve at once the signs of returning animation; a cry will go up\nfrom the lips, a sob will convulse the frame, a light of passionate\nhope will come into the eyes. Christ has touched him. Christ is\nmerciful. Christ is powerful. Christ will save.\n\nAh, if I speak to one who is bound with the cords of his sin,\nhelplessly fettered and manacled, dead as it were in trespasses, I\nknow there is no other name to mention to you, no other hope to hold\nout to you. Though I knew all science, I could not effectually help\nyou; though I could command all the springs of human feeling, I could\nnot stir you from your apathy, or satisfy the first cries of your\nawaking conscience. But it is permitted to me to preach unto you--not\nabstract Wisdom, but--Jesus, who received that name because He should\nsave His people from their sins.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[110] Prov. vii. 6.\n\n[111] Prov. vii. 4.\n\n[112] Prov. vii. 9.\n\n[113] Prov. vii. 8. The term \u05e6\u05b8\u05e2\u05b7\u05d3 describes a special kind of motion,\n_e.g._, the slow pacing of the oxen that bare the ark (2 Sam. vi. 15),\nor the imagined efforts of idols to move (Jer. x. 5); it is therefore\nunfortunate to render it by the generic word \"go.\" The affected\ndignity and sauntering insouciance of a dandy are immediately\nsuggested by it, and the shade of meaning is fairly well preserved in\nthe English \"saunter.\"\n\n[114] This is the meaning of the word translated 'clamorous.'\n\n[115] So says the Greek version of ver. 10: \u1f23 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03bd\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd \u1f10\u03be\u03af\u03c0\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\n\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2.\n\n[116] See Lev. vii. 16.\n\n\n\n\n VIII.\n\n _THE FIRST-BORN OF THE CREATOR._\n\n \"Doth not Wisdom cry?\"--PROV. viii. 1.\n\n\nIn the last chapter a dark and revolting picture of Vice was drawn.\nThis chapter contains a lovely and living picture of Wisdom. In this\ncontrast, as we have already seen, Vice can be presented as a vicious\nwoman, because it is unhappily only too easy to find such an\nincarnation in actual experience; Wisdom, on the other hand, cannot be\npresented as an actual person, but only as a personification, because\nthere was, as yet, no Incarnation of Wisdom; far from it, Solomon, the\nwisest of men, the framer of many wise proverbs, had been in practical\nconduct an incarnation of folly rather than of wisdom, had himself\nbecome a proverb for a wise and understanding heart in combination\nwith a dark and vicious life. Yet how could the teacher fail to feel\nthat some day there must be an Incarnate Wisdom, a contrast to the\nIncarnate Vice, a conqueror and destroyer of it? In describing Wisdom\npersonified, and in following out her sweet and high-souled utterance,\nthe teacher unconsciously to himself becomes a prophet, and presents,\nas we shall see, a faint and wavering image of Him who of God was to\nbe made unto men Wisdom, of Him who was actually to live a concrete\nhuman life embodying the Divine Wisdom as completely as many poor\nstained human lives have embodied the undivine folly of vice. The\ndescription, then, is an adumbration of something as yet not seen or\nfully understood; we must be careful not to spoil its meaning by\nrepresenting it as more, and by attempting to press the details in\nexplanation of the being and the work of Christ. We shall do wisely to\nlook at the whole picture as it formed itself before the eye of the\nwriter, and to abstain from introducing into it colours or shades of\nour own. Our first task must be to follow the movement of the chapter\nas carefully as possible.\n\nWisdom, unlike the vicious woman who lurks in the twilight at the corner\nof the street which contains her lair, stands in the open places; she\nmakes herself as manifest as may be by occupying some elevated position,\nfrom which her ringing voice may be heard down the streets and up the\ncross-ways, and may attract the attention of those who are entering the\ncity gates or the doors of the houses. As her voice is strong and clear,\nso her words are full and rounded; there is no whispering, no muttering,\nno dark hint, no subtle incitement to secret pleasures; her tone is\nbreezy and stirring as the dawn; there is something about it which makes\none involuntarily think of the open air, and the wide sky, and the great\nworks of God.[117] There is the beauty of goodness in all that she says;\nthere is the charming directness and openness of truth; she abhors\ntortuous and obscure ways; and if some of her sayings seem paradoxes or\nenigmas, a little difficult to understand, that is the fault of the\nhearer; to a tortuous mind straight things appear crooked; to the\nignorant and uninstructed mind the eternal laws of God appear\nfoolishness; but all that she says is plain to one who understands, and\nright to those who find knowledge.[118] She walks always in a certain\nand undeviating course--it is the way of righteousness and judgment--and\nonly those who tread the same path can expect to perceive the meaning of\nwhat she says, or to appreciate the soundness of all her counsels.[119]\nAnd now she proclaims the grounds on which she demands the attention of\nmen, in a noble appeal, which rises to a passionate eloquence and\ndeepens in spiritual significance as it advances. Roughly speaking, this\nappeal seems to fall into two parts: from ver. 10 to ver. 21 the obvious\nadvantages of obeying her voice are declared, but at ver. 22 the\ndiscourse reaches a higher level, and she claims obedience because of\nher essential nature and her eternal place in the universe of created\nthings.\n\nIn the first part Wisdom solemnly states her own value, as compared\nwith the valuables which men usually covet--silver, and gold, and\nprecious stones. That she is of more account than these, appears from\nthe fact that they are but parts of her gifts. In her train come\nriches; but they differ from ordinary riches in being durable; her\nfaithful followers obtain substantial wealth, and their treasuries\ninsensibly fill.[120] To riches she adds honour, a crown which worldly\nriches seldom bring, and, what is better still, the honour which she\nconfers is associated with righteousness, while the spurious honour\nwhich is commonly rendered to riches, being conferred without any\nmoral implication, is devoid of any moral appreciation.[121] But after\nall, she herself is her own best reward; the prosperity which\naccompanies her seems trivial compared with the desirableness of her\nown person. Her queenly dwelling is prudence, and at her touch all the\ncharmed regions of knowledge and discovery fly open; they who dwell\nwith her and are admitted to share her secrets find the fruit and the\nincrease of the intellectual life incomparably better than fine gold\nor choice silver. And what gives to her endowments their peculiar\ncompleteness is that she requires a moral culture to go hand in hand\nwith mental development; and leading her disciples to hate evil, and\nto avoid the arrogance and the pride of the intellect, she rescues\nknowledge from becoming a mere barren accumulation of facts, and keeps\nit always in contact with the humanities and with life. Indeed, she\nfinds it one great part of her mighty task to instruct the rulers of\nmen, and to fit them for the fulfilment of their high functions. Her\nqueenly prerogative she shares with all her faithful followers. Since\nWisdom is the actual arbiter of human life, the wise man is, as the\nStoics would have said, a king; nor can any king be recognized or\ntolerated who is not wise.[122]\n\nAnd all these advantages of wealth and honour, of knowledge, and\npower, and righteousness, are put within the reach of every one.\nWisdom is no churl in loving; she loves all who love her. She does not\nseek to withdraw herself from men; rather she chooses the places and\nthe ways in which she can best attract them. Queenly as she is, she\ncondescends to woo them. Her invitations are general, even universal.\nAnd therefore if any do not find her, it is because they do not seek\nher; if any do not share in her rich gifts and graces, it is because\nthey will not take the trouble to claim them.[123]\n\nBut now we pass on to the _second_ ground of appeal. Wisdom unveils\nherself, discloses her origin, shows her heart, stands for a moment on\nher high celestial throne, that she may make her claims upon the sons of\nmen more irresistible. She was the first creation of God.[124] Before\nthe earth issued out of nothingness she was there. In joyous activity,\ndaily full of delight, she was beside God, as an architect, in the\nforming of the world. She saw the great earth shaped and clothed for the\nfirst time in the mantle of its floods, and made musical with the sound\nof its fountains. She saw the mountains and the hills built up from\ntheir foundations. She saw the formation of the dry land, and of the\natoms of dust which go to make the ground.[125] She saw the sky spread\nout as a firm vault to cover the earth; and she saw God when\n\n \"... in His hand\n He took the golden compasses, prepared\n In God's eternal store, to circumscribe\n This universe and all created things.\"[126]\n\nShe saw the mighty tides of the ocean restricted to their appointed\ncisterns, and the firm outlines of the land fixed as their impassable\nbarriers.[127] And this very Wisdom, who thus presided over the\nformation of land, and sea, and sky, is she who still sports with\nGod's fruitful earth--yes, _sports_, for the great characteristic of\nWisdom is her exultant cheerfulness, and it must by no means be\nsupposed that the foolish and the wicked have all the gaiety and mirth\nas their own.[128] This Wisdom is she too who finds her peculiar\ndelight with the sons of men.\n\nIs it not obvious, then, that men, who are her sons, ought to give ear\nto her counsels? What could establish a stronger claim for attention\nthan this ancient origin, this honourable part in laying the very\nfoundations of the earth, and this special interest in human life from\nthe beginning? Raised to this high level, where we command so wide a\nprospect, are we not forced to see that it is our duty, our interest,\nour joy, to come as humble suitors to the gates of Wisdom, and there\nto watch, and wait, and seek until we may obtain admission? Must we\nnot search after her, when in finding her we find life and obtain\nfavour of the Lord? Can we not perceive that to miss her is to miss\nlife, to wrong our own souls--to hate her is to love death? Evidently\nher eagerness to win us is entirely disinterested; though she delights\nin us, she could easily dispense with us; on the other hand, though we\ndo not delight in her, though we constantly turn a deaf ear to her,\nand refuse to walk in her ways, she is indispensable to us.\n\nSuch a passage as this gives rise to many reflections, and the longer\nwe meditate upon it the more rich and suggestive it appears. Let us\ntry to follow out some of the thoughts which readily present\nthemselves, and especially such as are suggested by the verses which\nmay be described as the poem of creation.\n\nFirst of all, here is the noble idea which overturns at a touch all\nmythological speculations about the origin of things--an idea which is\nin deep harmony with all the best knowledge of our own time--that\nthere is nothing fortuitous in the creation of the world; the Creator\nis not a blind Force, but an Intelligent Being whose first creation is\nwisdom. He is the origin of a Law by which He means to bind Himself;\narbitrariness finds no place in His counsels; accident has no part in\nHis works; in Wisdom hath He formed them all. In all heathen\nconceptions of creation caprice is supreme, law has no place, blind\nforce works in this way or that, either by the compulsion of a\nNecessity which is stronger than the gods, or by freaks and whims of\nthe gods which would be contemptible even in men. But here is the\nclear recognition of the principle that God's Law is a law also to\nHimself, and that His law is wisdom. He creates the world as an\noutcome of His own wise and holy design, so that \"nothing walks with\naimless feet.\" It is on this theological conception that the\npossibility of science depends. Until the universe is recognized as an\nordered and intelligible system the ordered and intelligent study of\nit cannot begin. As long as the arbitrary and fortuitous are supposed\nto hold sway inquiry is paralyzed at its starting-point.\n\nIt may, however, be suggested that the doctrine of Evolution, which\nscientific men are almost unanimous in accepting, is inconsistent with\nthis idea of Creation. By this doctrine our attention is directed to\nthe apparently disordered collision of forces, and the struggle for\nexistence out of which the order and progress of life are educed, and\nit is hastily assumed that a Wise Intelligence would not work in this\nway, but would exhibit more economy of resources, more simplicity and\ndirectness of method, and more inevitableness of result. But may we\nnot say that the apparent fortuitousness with which the results are\nachieved is the clearest evidence of the wise purpose which orders and\ndirects the process? for about the results there can be no question;\norder, beauty, fitness everywhere prevail; life emerges from the\ninorganic, thought from life, morality and religion from thought. The\nmore our attention is called to the apparently accidental steps by\nwhich these results are reached, the more persuaded must we become\nthat a great and a wise law was at work, that by the side of the\nCreator, as a master workman, was Wisdom from the beginning. Such a\npassage as this, then, prepares the way for all science, and furnishes\nthe true conceptions without which science would be sterile. It takes\nus at a step out of a pagan into a truly religious mode of thinking;\nit leads us out of the misty regions of superstition to the luminous\nthreshold of the House of Knowledge. It may be said with truth that\nmany scientific facts which are known to us were not known to the\nwriter; and this may raise a prejudice against our book in those minds\nwhich can tolerate no thought except that of the present generation,\nand appreciate no knowledge which is not, as it were, brought up to\ndate; but the fruitful conception is here, here is the right way of\nregarding the universe, here the preparation of all science.\n\nAnd now to advance to another idea which is implied in the passage, the\nidea that in the very conception of the universe human life was\ncontemplated, and regarded with a peculiar delight by the Wisdom of God.\nThe place which Man occupies in creation has been variously estimated in\ndifferent religious systems and by different religious thinkers.\nSometimes he has been regarded as the centre of all things, the\ncreature for whom all things exist. Then a reaction has set in, and he\nhas been treated as a very insignificant and possibly transient\nphenomenon in the order of things. It is characteristic of the Bible\nthat it presents a balanced view of this question, avoiding extremes in\nboth directions. On the one hand, it very clearly recognizes that man is\na part of the creation, that he belongs to it because he springs out of\nit, and rules over it only in so far as he conforms to it; on the other\nhand, it clearly insists on that relation between man and his Creator\nwhich is hinted at here. Man is always implicitly connected with God by\nsome half-divine mediator. The Wisdom of God watches with an unmoved\nheart the growth of the physical world, but into her contemplation of\nmankind there enters a peculiar delight. There is that in man which can\nlisten to her appeals, can listen and respond. He is capable of rising\nto the point of view from which she looks out upon the world, and can\neven see himself in the light in which she sees him. In a word, man,\nwith all his insignificance, has a sublime possibility in him, the\npossibility of becoming like God; in this he stands quite alone among\ncreated things; it is this which gives him his pre-eminence. Thus our\npassage, while it does not for a moment imply that the material universe\nwas made for the sake of man, or that man in himself can claim a\nsuperiority over the other creatures of the earth--and so far takes a\nview which is very popular with scientific men--yet parts company with\nthe philosophy of materialism in claiming for man a place altogether\nunique, because he has within him the possibility of being linked to God\nby means of the Wisdom of God.\n\nAnd now we may notice another implication of the passage. While Wisdom\ncelebrates her high prerogative as the first-born of the Creator and\nthe instrument of the creation, and urges upon men as parts of the\ncreation the observance of the Moral Law, she is implicitly teaching\nthe great truth which men have been so slow to grasp, that the law of\npractical righteousness is of a piece with the very laws of creation.\nTo put it in another form, the rules of right conduct are really the\nrules of the universe applied to human life. Laws of nature, as they\nare called, and laws of morality have their origin in one and the same\nBeing, and are interpreted to us by one and the same Wisdom. It would\nbe well for us all if we could understand how far-reaching this great\ntruth is, and an intelligent study of this passage certainly helps us\nto understand it. None of us, in our wildest moments, think of pitting\nourselves against the laws of nature. We do not murmur against the law\nof gravitation; we scrupulously conform to it so far as we can,\nknowing that if we do not it will be the worse for us. When heavy seas\nare breaking, and the spirit of the winds is let loose, we do not\nventure on the waves in a small, open boat, or if we do, we accept the\nconsequences without complaint. But when we come to deal with the\nmoral law we entertain some idea that it is elastic and uncertain,\nthat its requirements may be complied with or not at pleasure, and\nthat we may violate its eternal principles without any serious loss or\ninjury. But the truth is, the Law is one. The only difference arises\nfrom the fact that while the natural laws, applying to inanimate\nobjects or to creatures which enjoy no freedom of moral life, are\nnecessarily obeyed, the moral rules apply to conscious reasoning\ncreatures, who, possessed of freedom, are able to choose whether they\nwill obey the law or not. Yes, the Law is one, and breaches of the Law\nare punished inevitably both in the natural and in the moral sphere.\nThis same Wisdom, to which \"wickedness is an abomination,\" and which\ntherefore exhorts the sons of men to walk in the ways of\nrighteousness, is the great principle which ordered the physical\nuniverse and stamped upon it those laws of uniformity and\ninevitableness which Science delights to record and to illustrate.\n\nBut when we notice how the Wisdom who is here speaking is at once the\nmouthpiece of the laws which underlie the whole creation and of the\nlaws which govern the moral life, it is easy to perceive how this\npassage becomes a foreshadowing of that wonderful Being who of God is\nmade unto us Wisdom as well as Righteousness. Or, to put it in a\nslightly different way, we are able to perceive how this passage is a\nfaint and imperfect glimpse into the nature and the work of Him whom\nin New Testament phraseology we call the Son of God--faint and\nimperfect, because this Wisdom, although represented as speaking, is\nstill only an abstraction, a personification, and her relation both to\nGod and to man is described in very vague and indefinite language; and\nyet, though faint and imperfect, very true as far as it goes, for it\nrecognizes with wonderful distinctness the three truths which we have\njust been considering, truths that have become luminous for us in\nChrist; it recognizes, _firstly_, that the world was the creation of\nWisdom, of Reason, or, if we may use the New Testament term, of the\nWord; it recognizes, _secondly_, that the thought of Man was contained\nin the very thought of creation, and that man was related in a direct\nand unique way with the Creator; _lastly_, it recognizes that goodness\nlies at the very root of creation, and that therefore natural law when\napplied to human life is a demand for righteousness.\n\nIt is interesting to observe that this glimpse, this adumbration of a\ngreat truth, which was only to become quite clear in Christ Jesus our\nLord, was advanced a little in clearness and completeness by a book\nwhich is not generally considered to be inspired, the so-called book of\nWisdom, in a passage which must be quoted. \"For she [_i.e._ Wisdom] is a\nbreath of the power of God, and a pure influence flowing from the glory\nof the Almighty; therefore can no defiled thing fall into her. For she\nis the brightness of the everlasting light, the unspotted mirror of the\npower of God, and the image of His goodness. And being but one, she can\ndo all things; and remaining in herself, she maketh all things new; and\nin all ages entering into holy souls, she maketh them friends of God and\nprophets. For God loveth none but him that dwelleth with Wisdom. For she\nis more beautiful than the sun, and above all the order of stars; being\ncompared with the light, she is found before it.\"[130]\n\nIn this passage Wisdom is still a mere impersonation, but the language\nemployed is evidently very near to that which the New Testament\napplies to Christ. When Philo came to treat of the idea, and wished\nto describe this intermediate being between God and man, he employed\nanother term; changing the feminine into the masculine, he spoke of it\nas the Logos. And this expression is adopted by the Fourth Gospel in\ndescribing the Eternal Son before He became flesh; the Word of the\nfuller revelation is the Wisdom of the Proverbs.\n\nHow far Christ recognized in this impersonation of our book a\ndescription or representation of Himself it is impossible to say. It\nis certain that on one occasion, in defending His action against the\ncharges of the Pharisees, He declared, \"Wisdom is justified of her\nchildren,\"[131] a defence which can be most simply explained by\nsupposing that Wisdom stands for Himself. It is certain, too, that He\nspoke of His own pre-existence,[132] and that the Evangelist assigns\nto Him in that life before the Incarnation a position not unlike that\nwhich is attributed to Wisdom in our passage: \"All things were made by\nHim; and without Him was not anything made that hath been made.... No\nman hath seen God at any time; the only begotten Son, which is in the\nbosom of the Father, He hath declared Him.\"[133] But whether our Lord\nexpressly acknowledged the forecast of Himself which is contained in\nthe passage or not, we cannot fail to mark with joy and wonder how\nstrikingly all that is best in the utterance and in the delineation of\nWisdom is produced, concrete, tangible, real, in Him.\n\nHe, like Wisdom in the book of Proverbs, appears in the busy haunts of\nman, appeals to them, invites them with large, open-armed generosity.\n_His_ voice is to the sons of men. He, like Wisdom, can say with\nabsolute truth, \"All the words of My mouth are in righteousness; there\nis nothing crooked or perverse in them.\" He too could speak of His\nteaching as \"plain and right,\" and could with simple literalness\ndeclare that His words were more precious than gold, while obedience\nto Him would cause men \"to inherit substance.\" With what force He\nmight claim that even kings rule by Him we shall only know when the\nkingdoms of the world have become His in their integrity; but we can\nsee at once how appropriate in His lips is the beautiful saying, \"I\nlove them that love Me, and those that seek Me early shall find Me.\"\n\nWith equal suitability might He, the First-born of all creation, the\nbeginning of the creation of God, use the sublime language which\nfollows. And He too could say that His delight was with the sons of\nmen. Yes, how much that means to us! If His delight had not been with\nus, how could ours ever have been with Him? What a new meaning\nirradiates every human being when we realize that with him, with her,\nis the delight of the Son of God! What a revelation lies in the fact,\na revelation of what man was by his origin, made in the image of God,\nand of what he may be in the last event, brought to \"the fulness of\nthe measure of the stature of Christ.\" We must not speak as if He\ndelights in us because He has redeemed us; no, He redeemed us because\nHe delighted in us. Is not this a ground on which He may appeal to us,\n\"Now therefore, my sons, hearken unto Me; for blessed are they that\nkeep My ways\"? And can we not say to Him with a fervour which the cold\nabstraction of Wisdom could not possibly excite, \"We would watch\ndaily at Thy gates, waiting at the posts of Thy doors. For when we\nfind Thee we find life and obtain favour of the Lord. When we sin\nagainst Thee we wrong our own souls; when we hate Thee we love death\"?\n\nYes, in place of this ancient Wisdom, which, stately and lovely as she\nis, remains always a little intangible and unapproachable, Christ is\nmade unto us Wisdom, and He speaks to us the old words with a deeper\nmeaning, and new words which none but He could ever speak.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[117] Prov. viii. 1-6.\n\n[118] Prov. viii. 7-9.\n\n[119] Prov. viii. 20.\n\n[120] Prov. viii. 8, 9.\n\n[121] Prov. viii. 18.\n\n[122] Prov. viii. 10-16.\n\n[123] Prov. viii. 17.\n\n[124] Prov. viii. 22. There is unfortunately an ambiguity in the word\n\u05e7\u05b8\u05e0\u05b8\u05d4. It may mean either \"to possess\" or \"to create.\" _Cf._ Gen. xiv.\n19, 22, where it is impossible to decide between \"Possessor of the\nearth\" and \"Maker of the earth.\" That the word might be rendered \"got\"\nin this passage is evident from iv. 7, where it is employed; on the\nother hand, the LXX. renders \u1f14\u03ba\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03b5, and the author of Ecclesiasticus\nevidently took it in this sense; _cf._ i. 4, \"Wisdom hath been created\nbefore all things, and the understanding of prudence from\neverlasting.\" In Gen. iv. it is rendered \"gotten,\" but it is quite\npossible that the joyful mother called her son \u05e7\u05b7\u05d9\u05b4\u05df with the feeling\nthat she had created him with the help of the Lord.\n\n[125] Prov. viii. 26.\n\n[126] Milton, _Paradise Lost_, vii. 225.\n\n[127] Prov. viii. 29. It is hardly necessary to point out that the\nlanguage betrays a complete ignorance of those facts with which\nastronomy and geology have made us familiar. The author puts into the\nlips of Wisdom the scientific conceptions of his own time, when the\nearth was regarded as a flat surface, covered by a solid circular vault,\nin which the sun, and moon, and stars were fixed. The \"circle upon the\nflood\" is probably the apparent circle which is suggested to the\nobserver by the horizon. No one had as yet dreamed that the mountains\nwere thrown up by, not settled in, the surface of the earth, nor was it\ndreamed that the bounds of the sea are far from being settled, but\nsubject to gradual variations, and even to cataclysmal changes. It may\nbe observed, however, that the voyage of the _Challenger_ seems to have\nestablished beyond question that the great outlines of land and ocean\nhave remained approximately the same from the beginning. Ocean islands\nare of volcanic origin or the work of the coral-insect; but the great\ncontinents and all contained within the fringe of a thousand-fathom\ndepth from their shores have remained practically unaltered despite the\nnumerous partial upheavals or submergences.\n\nA passage so full of spiritual and moral significance, and yet so\nentirely untouched by what are to us the elementary conclusions of\nscience, should furnish a valuable criterion in estimating what we are\nto understand by the Inspiration of such a book as this.\n\n[128] _Cf._ x. 23.\n\n[129] Prov. viii. 22-31.\n\n[130] Wisdom vii. 25-29. The book of Wisdom, a work of the second\ncentury B.C., at one time had a place in the canon, and owes its\nexclusion, in all probability, to the fact that it was written in\nGreek; as there was no Hebrew original, it was evident that Solomon\nwas not the author. But the use which the Epistle to the Hebrews makes\nof the passage quoted in the text may suggest how very unnecessary the\nexclusion from the canon was.\n\n[131] Luke vii. 35; Matt. xi. 19.\n\n[132] John viii. 58.\n\n[133] John i. 3, 18.\n\n\n\n\n IX.\n\n _TWO VOICES IN THE HIGH PLACES OF THE CITY._\n\n CH. IX., VV. 14 WITH 3, AND 16 WITH 4.\n\n\nAfter the lengthened contrast between the vicious woman and Wisdom in\nchaps. vii. and viii., the introduction of the book closes with a\nlittle picture which is intended to repeat and sum up all that has\ngone before. It is a peroration, simple, graphic, and beautiful.\n\nThere is a kind of competition between Wisdom and Folly, between\nRighteousness and Sin, between Virtue and Vice; and the allurements of\nthe two are disposed in an intentional parallelism; the colouring and\narrangement are of such a kind that it becomes incredible how any\nsensible person, or for that matter even the simple himself, could for\na moment hesitate between the noble form of Wisdom and the\nmeretricious attractions of Folly. The two voices are heard in the\nhigh places of the city; each of them invites the passers-by,\nespecially the simple and unsophisticated--the one into her fair\npalace, the other into her foul and deadly house. The words of their\ninvitation are very similar: \"Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither:\nas for him that is void of understanding, she saith to him;\" but how\ndifferent is the burden of the two messages! Wisdom offers life, but\nis silent about enjoyment; Folly offers enjoyment, but says nothing of\nthe death which must surely ensue.[134]\n\nFirst of all we will give our attention to the Palace of Wisdom and\nthe voices which issue from it, and then we will note for the last\ntime the features and the arts of Mistress Folly.\n\nThe Palace of Wisdom is very attractive; well built and well\nfurnished, it rings with the sounds of hospitality; and, with its open\ncolonnades, it seems of itself to invite all passers-by to enter in as\nguests. It is reared upon seven well-hewn marble pillars, in a\nquadrangular form, with the entrance side left wide open.[135] This is\nno shifting tent or tottering hut, but an eternal mansion, that lacks\nnothing of stability, or completeness, or beauty. Through the spacious\ndoorways may be seen the great courtyard, in which appear the\npreparations for a perpetual feast. The beasts are killed and dressed;\nthe wine stands in tall flagons ready mixed for drinking; the tables\nare spread and decked. All is open, generous, large, a contrast to\nthat unhallowed private supper to which the unwary youth was invited\nby his seducer.[136] There are no secret chambers, no twilight\nsuggestions and insinuations: the broad light shines over all; there\nis a promise of social joy; it seems that they will be blessed who sit\ndown together at this board. And now the beautiful owner of the palace\nhas sent forth her maidens into the public ways of the city: theirs is\na gracious errand; they are not to chide with sour and censorious\nrebukes, but they are to invite with winning friendliness; they are to\noffer this rare repast, which is now ready, to all those who are\nwilling to acknowledge their need of it. \"Come, eat ye of my bread,\nand drink of the wine which I have mingled.\"[137]\n\nWe were led to inquire in the last chapter how far our Lord identified\nHimself with the hypostatic Wisdom who was speaking there, and we were\nleft in some doubt whether He ever consciously admitted the identity;\nbut it is hardly a matter of doubt that this passage was before His\nmind when He spoke His parable of the Wedding Feast.[138] And the\nconnection is still more apparent when we look at the Greek version of\nthe LXX., and notice that the clause \"sent forth her bond-servants\" is\nprecisely the same in Prov. ix. 3 and in Matt. xxii. 3. Here, at any\nrate, Jesus, who describes Himself as \"a certain king,\" quite\ndefinitely occupies the place of the ancient Wisdom in the book of\nProverbs, and the language which in this passage she employs He, as we\nshall see, in many slight particulars made His own.\n\nYes, our Lord, the Wisdom Incarnate, has glorious ideas of hospitality;\nHe keeps open house; His purpose is to call mankind to a great feast;\nthe \"bread and the wine\" are prepared; the sacrifice which furnishes the\nmeat is slain. His messengers are not commissioned with a mournful or a\ncondemnatory proclamation, but with good tidings which they are to\npublish in the high places. His word is always, Come. His desire is that\nmen should live, and therefore He calls them into the way of\nunderstanding.[139] If a man lacks wisdom, if he recognizes his\nignorance, his frailty, his folly, if he is at any rate wise enough to\nknow that he is foolish, well enough to know that he is sick, righteous\nenough to know that he is sinful, let him approach this noble mansion\nwith its lordly feast. Here is bread which is meat indeed; here is wine\nwhich is life-giving, the fruit of the Vine which God has planted.\n\nBut now we are to note that the invitation of Wisdom is addressed only\nto the simple, not to the scorner.[140] She lets the scorner pass by,\nbecause a word to him would recoil only in shame on herself, bringing\na blush to her queenly face, and would add to the scorner's wickedness\nby increasing his hatred of her. Her reproof would not benefit him,\nbut it would bring a blot upon herself, it would exhibit her as\nineffectual and helpless. The bitter words of a scorner can make\nwisdom appear foolish, and cover virtue with a confusion which should\nbelong only to vice. \"Speak not in the hearing of a fool; for he will\ndespise the wisdom of thy words.\"[141] Indeed, there is no character\nso hopeless as that of the scorner; there proceeds from him, as it\nwere, a fierce blast, which blows away all the approaches which\ngoodness makes to him. Reproof cannot come near him;[142] he cannot\nfind wisdom, though he seek it;[143] and as a matter of fact, he never\nseeks it.[144] If one attempts to punish him it can only be with the\nhope that others may benefit by the example; it will have no effect\nupon him.[145] To be rid of him must be the desire of every wise man,\nfor he is an abomination to all,[146] and with his departure\ncontention disappears.[147] They that scoff at things holy, and scorn\nthe Divine Power, must be left to themselves until the beginnings of\nwisdom appear in them--the first sense of fear that there is a God who\nmay not be mocked, the first recognition that there is a sanctity\nwhich they would do well at all events to reverence. There must be a\nlittle wisdom in the heart before a man can enter the Palace of\nWisdom; there must be a humbling, a self-mistrust, a diffident\nmisgiving before the scorner will give heed to her invitation.\n\nThere is an echo of this solemn truth in more than one saying of the\nLord's. He too cautioned His disciples against casting their pearls\nbefore swine, lest they should trample the pearls under their feet,\nand turn to rend those who were foolish enough to offer them such\ntreasure.[148] Men must often be taught in the stern school of\nExperience, before they can matriculate in the reasonable college of\nWisdom. It is not good to give that which is holy to dogs, nor to\ndisplay the sanctities of religion to those who will only put them to\nan open shame. Where we follow our own way instead of the Lord's, and\ninsist on offering the treasures of the kingdom to the scorners, we\nare not acting according to the dictates of Wisdom, we get a blot for\nthat goodness which we so rashly offer, and often are needlessly rent\nby those whom we meant to save. It is evident that this is only one\nside of a truth, and our Lord presented with equal fulness the other\nside; it was from Him we learnt how the scorner himself, who cannot be\nwon by reproof, can sometimes be won by love; but our Lord thought it\nworth while to state this side of the truth, and so far to make this\nutterance of the ancient Wisdom His own.\n\nAgain, how constantly He insisted on the mysterious fact that to him\nthat hath shall be given, and from him that hath not shall be taken what\nhe hath, precisely in the spirit of this saying: \"Give instruction to a\nwise man, and he will be yet wiser: teach a righteous man, and he will\nincrease in learning.\"[149] The entrance into the kingdom, as into the\nhouse of Wisdom, is by humility. Except a man turn, and become as a\nlittle child, he cannot enter. Wisdom is only justified of her children:\nuntil the heart is humble it cannot even begin to be wise; although it\nmay seem to possess a great deal, all must be taken away, and a new\nbeginning must be made--that beginning which is found in the fear of the\nLord, and in the knowledge of the Holy One.[150]\n\nThe closing words in the invitation of Wisdom are entirely appropriate\nin the lips of Jesus, and, indeed, only in His lips could they be\naccepted in their fullest signification. There is a limited sense in\nwhich all wisdom is favourable to long life, as we saw in chap. iii.,\nbut it is an obvious remark, too, that the wise perish even as the fool;\none event happens to them both, and there appears to be no difference.\nBut the Incarnate Wisdom, Jesus Christ, was able to say with a broad\nliteralness, \"By Me thy days shall be multiplied, and the years of thy\nlife shall be increased.\" With Him the outlook widened; He could speak\nof a new life, of raising men up at the last day; He could for the first\ntime give a solution to that constant enigma which has puzzled men from\nthe beginning, How is it that Wisdom promises life, and yet often\nrequires that her children should die? how is it that the best and\nwisest have often chosen death, and so to all appearance have robbed the\nworld of their goodness and their wisdom? He could give the answer in\nthe glorious truth of the Resurrection; and so, in calling men to die\nfor Him, as He often does, He can in the very moment of their death say\nto them with a fulness of meaning, \"By Me thy days shall be multiplied,\nand the years of thy life shall be increased.\"\n\nAnd then how entirely is it in harmony with all His teaching to\nemphasize to the utmost the individual choice and the individual\nresponsibility. \"If thou art wise, thou art wise for thyself: and if\nthou scornest, thou alone shalt bear it.\" There can be no progress,\nindeed no beginning, in the spiritual life, until this attitude of\npersonal isolation is understood. It is the last result of true\nreligion that we live in others; but it is the first that we live in\nourselves; and until we have learnt to live in ourselves we can be of\nno use by living in others. Until the individual soul is dealt with,\nuntil it has understood the demands which are made upon it, and met\nthem, it is in no position to take its rightful place as a lively\nstone in the temple of God, or as a living member in the body of\nChrist. Yes, realize this searching assurance of Wisdom, let us say,\nrather, of Christ: if you are like the wise virgins in the parable, it\nis for your own everlasting good, you shall enter into the hall with\nthe Bridegroom; but if you are like the foolish virgins, no wisdom of\nthe wise can avail you, no vicarious light will serve for your lamps;\nfor you there must be the personal humiliation and sorrow of the\nLord's \"I know you not.\"\n\nIf with scornful indifference to your high trust as a servant of the\nMaster you hide your talent, and justify your conduct to yourself by\npleading that the Master is a hard man, that scorn must recoil upon\nyour own head; so far from the enlarged wealth of the others coming to\nmeet your deficiencies, the misused trifle which you still retain will\nbe taken from you and given to them. Men have sometimes favoured the\nnotion that it is possible to spend a life of scornful indifference to\nGod and all His holy commandments, a life of arrogant self-seeking and\nbitter contempt for all His other creatures, and yet to find oneself\nat the end entirely purged of one's contempt, and on precisely equal\nterms with all pious and humble hearts; but against this notion Wisdom\nloudly exclaims; it is the notion of Folly, and so far from redeeming\nthe folly, it is Folly's worst condemnation; for surely Conscience and\nReason, the heart and the head, might tell us that it is false; and\nall that is sanest and wisest in us concurs in the direct and simple\nassurance, \"If thou scornest, thou alone shalt bear it.\"\n\nSuch is the invitation, and such the warning, of Wisdom; such is the\ninvitation, and such the warning, of Christ. Leave off, ye simple ones,\nand live. After all, most of us are not scorners, but only very foolish,\neasily dazzled with false lights, easily misled with smooth utterances\nwhich happen to chime in with our own ignorant prejudices, easily\nseduced into by-paths which in quiet moments we readily acknowledge to\nbe sinful and hurtful. The scorners are but a few; the simple ones are\nmany. Here is this gracious voice appealing to the simple ones, and with\na winsome liberality inviting them to the feast of Wisdom.\n\nAt the close of ver. 12 the LXX. give a very interesting addition,\nwhich was probably translated from a Hebrew original. It seems to have\nbeen before our Lord's mind when He drew the description of the\nunclean spirit walking through waterless places, seeking rest and\nfinding none.[151] The passage is a figurative delineation of the\nevils which result from making shams and insincerities the support of\nlife, in place of the unfailing sureness and available strength of\nwisdom; it may be rendered thus: \"He who makes falsehood his support\nshepherds the winds, and will find himself pursuing birds on the wing;\nfor it means leaving the paths of his own vineyard, and wandering over\nthe borders of his own husbandry; it means walking through a waterless\nwilderness, over land which is the portion of the thirsty; he gathers\nin his hands fruitlessness.\" What a contrast to the spacious halls and\nthe bountiful fare of Wisdom! A life based upon everlasting verities\nmay seem for the time cold and desolate, but it is founded upon a\nrock, and not a barren rock either, for it sends forth in due course\ncorn, and wine, and oil. The children in that house have bread enough\nand to spare. But when a man prefers make-believe to reality, and\nfollows the apparently pleasant, instead of the actually good, what a\nclutching of winds it is! what a chase after swift-vanishing birds of\njoy! The wholesome ways, fruitful, responsive to toil, are left far\nbehind; and here soon is the actual desert, without a drop of water to\ncool the lips, or a single fruit of the earth which a man can eat. The\ndeluded soul consumed his substance with harlots, and he gathers the\nwind. The ways of vice are terrible; they produce a thirst which they\ncannot quench; and they fill the imagination with torturing images of\nwell-being which are farther removed from reality by every step we\ntake. Wisdom bids us to make truth our stay, for after all the Truth\nis the Way and the Life, and there is no other way, no other life.\n\nAnd now comes the brief closing picture of Folly, to which again the\nLXX. give a short addition. Folly is loud, empty-headed as her\nvictims, whom she invites to herself, not as Wisdom invites them, to\nleave off their simplicity, but rather as like to like, that their\nignorance may be confirmed into vice, and their simplicity into\nbrutishness. She has had the effrontery to build her house in the most\nprominent and lofty place of the city, where by good rights only\nWisdom should dwell. Her allurements are specially directed to those\nwho seem to be going right on in their wholesome ways, as if she found\nher chief delight, not in gratifying the vicious, but in making\nvicious the innocent. Her charms are poor and tawdry enough; seen in\nthe broad sunlight, and with the wholesome air all round her, she\nwould be revolting to every uncorrupted nature; her clamorous voice\nwould sound strident, and her shameless brow would create a blush of\nshame in others; she naturally therefore seeks to throw a veil over\nherself and a glamour over her proposals; she suggests that secrecy\nand illicitness will lend a charm to what in itself is a sorry\ndelight. It is clandestine, therefore it is to be sweet; it is\nforbidden, therefore it is to be pleasant. Could anything be more\nsophistical? That which owes its attraction to the shadows of the\nnight must obviously be intrinsically unattractive. It is an argument\nfit only for the shades of the lost, and not for those who breathe the\nsweet air and behold the sun. Her house is indeed haunted with ghosts,\nand when a man enters her portal he already has his foot in hell. Well\nmay the LXX. add the vehement warning, \"Spring away from her clutches;\ndo not linger in the place; let her not have thy name, for thou wilt\ntraverse another's waters; from another's waters hold aloof, from\nanother's fountains do not drink, in order that thou mayest live long,\nand add to thy years of life.\"\n\nAnd now, before leaving this subject, we must briefly remark the great\nchange and advance which Christ has brought into our thought of the\nrelation between the two sexes. This Book of Wisdom is a fair\nillustration of the contempt in which woman was held by the wise men\nof Israel. One would suppose that she is the temptress, and man is the\nvictim. The teacher never dreams of going a step backward, and asking\nwhose fault it was that the temptress fell into her vicious ways. He\ntakes no note of the fact that women are first led astray before they\nlead others. Nor does he care to inquire how the men of his day ruined\ntheir women by refusing to them all mental training, all wholesome\ninterest and occupation, shutting them up in the corrupting\natmosphere of the seraglio, and teaching them to regard the domestic\nsphere, and that only in its narrowest sense, as the proper limit of\ntheir thought and affection. It was reserved for the Great Teacher,\nthe Incarnate Wisdom Himself, to redress this age-long injustice to\nwoman, by sternly holding up to men the mirror of truth in which they\nmight see their own guilty hearts.[152] It was reserved for him to\ntouch the conscience of a city woman who was a sinner, and to bring\nher from her clamorous and seductive ways to the sweetness of\npenitential tears, and the rapturous love which forgiveness kindles.\nIt is He, and not the ancient Wisdom, which has turned the current of\nmen's thoughts into juster and kindlier ways on this great question.\nAnd thus it is that the great Christian poet represents the archangel\ncorrecting the faulty judgment of man.[153] Adam, speaking with the\nusual virtuous indignation of the stronger sex in contemplation of the\nsoft vision of frail women presented to his eyes, says:--\n\n \"O pity and shame, that they, who to live well\n Entered so fair, should turn aside to tread\n Paths indirect, or in the midway faint!\n But still I see the tenour of man's woe\n Holds on the same, from woman to begin.\"\n\nThe correction is the correction of Christ, though Michael is the\nspeaker:--\n\n \"From man's effeminate slackness it begins,\"\n Said the angel, \"who should better hold his place,\n By wisdom and superior gifts received.\"\n\nOur Lord draws no such pictures as these in the book of Proverbs; they\nhave their value; it is necessary to warn young men against the\nseductions which the vices of other men have created in woman's form;\nbut He prefers always to go to the root of the matter; He speaks to men\nthemselves; He bids them restrain the wandering eye, and keep pure the\nfountains of the heart. To that censorious Wisdom which judges without\nany perception that woman is more sinned against than sinning He would\noppose His severe command to be rid of the beam in one's own eye, before\nmaking an attempt to remove the mote from another's. It is in this way\nthat He in so many varied fields of thought and action has turned a half\ntruth into a whole truth by going a little deeper, and unveiling the\nsecrets of the heart; and in this way He has enabled us to use the half\ntruth, setting it in its right relation to the whole.[154]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[134] _Cf._ for this contrast between the two xxiii. 26-28, where\nWisdom speaks, and expressly warns against her rival.\n\n[135] The arrangement of the house is that of an open courtyard,\nsurrounded with apartments, the general roof supported on the pillars\nthus.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[136] Prov. vii. 14.\n\n[137] Prov. ix. 5.\n\n[138] Matt. xxii. 1, _et seq._\n\n[139] Prov. ix. 6.\n\n[140] Prov. ix. 7.\n\n[141] Prov. xxiii. 9.\n\n[142] Prov. xiii. 1.\n\n[143] Prov. xiv. 6.\n\n[144] Prov. xv. 12.\n\n[145] Prov. xix. 25.\n\n[146] Prov. xxiv. 9.\n\n[147] Prov. xxii. 10.\n\n[148] Matt. vii. 6.\n\n[149] Prov. ix. 9. _Cf._ xviii. 15, \"The heart of the prudent getteth\nknowledge; and the ear of the wise seeketh knowledge.\"\n\n[150] Prov. ix. 10.\n\n[151] Matt. xii. 43.\n\n[152] See John viii. 1 _et seq._\n\n[153] Milton, _Paradise Lost_, xi. 650 etc.\n\n[154] The fuller teaching of the book on the subject of Woman will be\nfound in Lect. XXXI.\n\n\n\n\n X.\n\n _WEALTH._\n\n \"Treasures of wickedness profit nothing:\n But righteousness delivereth from death.\"--PROV. x. 2.\n\n \"O'erweening statesmen have full long relied\n On fleets and armies and external wealth;\n But from _within_ proceeds a Nation's health.\"\n WORDSWORTH.\n\n\nNo moral system is complete which does not treat with clearness and\nforce the subject of wealth. The material possessions of an individual\nor of a nation are in a certain sense the pre-requisites of all moral\nlife; for until the human being has food to eat he cannot be virtuous,\nhe cannot even live; until he has clothing he cannot be civilised; and\nunless he has a moderate assurance of necessaries, and a certain\nmargin of leisure secured from the toil of life, he cannot live well,\nand there can be no moral development in the full sense of that term.\nAnd so with a nation: it must have a sufficient command of the means\nof subsistence to maintain a considerable number of people who are not\nengaged in productive labour, before it can make much advance in the\nnoblest qualities of national life, progress in the arts, extension of\nknowledge, and spiritual cultivation. The production of wealth,\ntherefore, if not strictly speaking a moral question itself, presses\nclosely upon all other moral questions. Wisdom must have something to\nsay about it, because, without it, Wisdom, in a material world like\nours, could not exist.\n\nWisdom will be called upon to direct the energies which produce\nwealth, and to determine the feelings with which we are to regard the\nwealth which is produced.\n\nMoral problems weightier still begin to emerge when the question of\nDistribution presents itself. Moral considerations lie at the root of\nthis question; and Political Economy, so far as it attempts to deal\nwith it apart from moral considerations, must always be merely a\nspeculative, and not a practical or a fruitful science.\n\nIf Production is in a sense the presupposition of all moral and\nspiritual life, no less certainly correct moral conceptions--may we\nnot even say true spiritual conditions?--are the indispensable means\nof determining Distribution. For a society in which every individual\nis striving with all his strength or cunning to procure for himself\nthe largest possible share of the common stock, in which therefore the\nmaterial possessions gravitate into the hands of the strong and the\nunscrupulous, while the weak and the honourable are left\ndestitute--such a society, if it ever came into existence, would be a\ndemoralised society. Such a demoralisation is always probable when the\nmeans of production have been rapidly and greatly improved, and when\nthe fever of getting has overpowered the sense of righteousness and\nall the kindlier human feelings. Such a demoralisation is to be\naverted by securing attention to the abiding moral principles which\nmust govern men's action in the matter of wealth, and by enforcing\nthese principles with such vividness of illustration and such cogency\nof sanction that they shall be generally accepted and practised.\n\nIn our own day this question of the distribution of wealth stands in\nthe front rank of practical questions. Religious teachers must face\nit, or else they must forfeit their claim to be the guides and\ninstructors of their generation.\n\nSocialists are grappling with this question not altogether in a\nreligious spirit: they have stepped into a gap which Christians have\nleft empty; they have recognised a great spiritual issue when Christians\nhave seen nothing but a material problem of pounds, shillings, and\npence, of supply and demand, of labour and capital. Where Socialism\nadopts the programme of Revolution, Wisdom cannot give in her adhesion;\nshe knows too well that suffering, impatience, and despair are unsafe,\nalthough very pathetic, counsellors; she knows too well that social\nupheaval does not produce social reconstruction, but a weary entail of\nfresh upheavals; she has learnt, too, that society is organic, and\ncannot, like Pelops in the myth, win rejuvenescence by being cut up and\ncast into the cauldron, but can advance only by a quiet and continuous\ngrowth, in which each stage comes naturally and harmoniously out of the\nstage which preceded. But all Socialism is not revolutionary. And Wisdom\ncannot withhold her sympathy and her aid where Socialism takes the form\nof stating, and expounding, and enforcing truer conceptions concerning\nthe distribution of wealth. It is by vigorous and earnest grappling with\nthe moral problem that the way of advance is prepared; every sound\nlesson therefore in the right way of regarding wealth, and in the use of\nwealth, is a step in the direction of that social renovation which all\nearnest men at present desire.\n\nThe book of Proverbs presents some very clear and decisive teaching on\nthis question, and it is our task now to view this teaching,\nscattered and disconnected though it be, as a whole.\n\nI. The first thing to be noted in the book is its _frank and full\nrecognition that Wealth has its advantages_, and _Poverty has its\ndisadvantages_. There is no quixotic attempt to overlook, as many moral\nand spiritual systems do, the perfectly obvious facts of life. The\nextravagance and exaggeration which led St. Francis to choose Poverty as\nhis bride find no more sanction in this Ancient Wisdom than in the sound\nteaching of our Lord and His Apostles. The rich man's wealth is his\nstrong city,[155] we are told, and as an high wall in his own\nimagination, while the destruction of the poor is their poverty. The\nrich man can ransom himself from death if by chance he has fallen into\ndifficulties, though this benefit is to some extent counterbalanced by\nthe reflection that the poor escape the threats of such dangers, as no\nbandit would care to attack a man with an empty purse and a threadbare\ncloak.[156] The rich man gains many advantages through his power of\nmaking gifts; it brings him before great men,[157] it procures him\nuniversal friendship, such as it is,[158] it enables him to pacify the\nanger of an adversary,[159] for indeed a gift is as a precious stone in\nthe eyes of him that hath it, whithersoever it turneth it\nprospereth.[160] Not only does wealth make many friends,[161] it also\nsecures positions of influence and authority, over those who are poorer,\nenabling a man to sit in Parliament or to gain the governorship of a\ncolony.[162] It gives even the somewhat questionable advantage of being\nable to treat others with brusqueness and hauteur.[163]\n\nOn the other hand, the poor man has to use entreaties.[163] His\npoverty separates him from his neighbours, and even incurs his\nneighbours' hatred.[164] Nay, worse than this, his friends go far from\nhim, his very brethren hate him, if he calls after them they quickly\nget out of his reach;[165] while the necessity of borrowing from\nwealthier men keeps him in a position of continual bondage.[166]\nIndeed, nothing can compensate for being without the necessaries of\nlife: \"Better is he that is lightly esteemed, and is his own servant,\nthan he that honoureth himself, and lacketh bread.\"[167]\n\nSince then Poverty is a legitimate subject of dread, there are urgent\nexhortations to diligence and thrift, quite in accordance with the\nexcellent apostolic maxim that if a man will not work he shall not\neat; while there are forcible statements of the things which tend to\npoverty, and of the courses which result in comfort and wealth. Thus\nit is pointed out how slack and listless labour leads to poverty,\nwhile industry leads to wealth.[168] We are reminded that the\nobstinate refusal to be corrected is a fruitful source of\npoverty,[169] while the humble and pious mind is rewarded with riches\nas well as with honour and life.[170] In the house of the wise man are\nfound treasures as well as all needful supplies.[171] Drunkenness and\ngluttony lead to poverty, and drowsiness clothes a man with rags.[172]\nAnd there is a beautiful injunction to engage in an agricultural life,\nwhich is the only perennial source of wealth, the only secure\nfoundation of a people's prosperity. As if we were back in patriarchal\ntimes, we are thus admonished in the later proverbs of Solomon[173]:--\n\n \"Be thou diligent to know the state of thy flocks,\n And look well to thy herds;\n For riches are not for ever;\n And doth the crown endure unto all generations?\n The hay is carried, and the tender grass showeth itself,\n And the herbs of the mountains are gathered in.\n The lambs are for thy clothing,\n And the goats are the price of the field:\n And there will be goats' milk enough for thy food, for the\n food of thy household;\n And maintenance for thy maidens.\"\n\nII. But now, making all allowance for the advantages of wealth, we\nhave to notice _some of its serious drawbacks_. To begin with, it is\nalways insecure. If a man places any dependence upon it, it will fail\nhim; only in his imagination is it a sure defence.[174] \"Wilt thou set\nthine eyes upon it? it is gone. For riches certainly make themselves\nwings, like an eagle that flieth toward heaven.\"[175]\n\nBut, further, if the wealth has been obtained in any other way than\nby honest labour it is useless, at any rate for the owner, and indeed\nworse than useless for him.[176]\n\nAs the text says, treasures of wickedness profit nothing. In the\nrevenues of the wicked is trouble.[177] Got in light and fallacious\nways, the money dwindles; only when gathered by labour does it really\nincrease.[178] When it is obtained by falsehood--by the tricks and\nmisrepresentations of trade, for example--it may be likened to a\nvapour driven to and fro--nay, rather to a mephitic vapour, a deadly\nexhalation, the snares of death.[179] Worst of all is it to obtain\nwealth by oppression of the poor; one who does so shall as surely come\nto want as he who gives money to those who do not need it.[180] In\nfact, our book contains the striking thought that ill-earned wealth is\nnever gathered for the benefit of the possessor, but only for the\nbenefit of the righteous, and must be useless until it gets into hands\nwhich will use it benevolently.[181]\n\nAnd while there are these serious drawbacks to material possessions,\nwe are further called upon to notice that there is wealth of another\nkind, wealth consisting in moral or spiritual qualities, compared\nwith which wealth, as it is usually understood, is quite paltry and\nunsatisfying. When the intrinsic defects of silver and gold have been\nfrankly stated, this earthy treasure is set, as a whole, in comparison\nwith another kind of treasure, and is observed to become pale and dim.\nThus \"riches profit not in the day of wrath, but righteousness\ndelivereth from death.\"[182] Indeed it is only the blessing of the\nLord which brings riches without drawbacks.[183] In the house of the\nrighteous is much treasure.[184] Better is a little with righteousness\nthan great treasure without right.[185] In the light of these moral\nconsiderations the relative positions of the rich and the poor are\nreversed; it is better to be an honest poor man than a perverse rich\nman; the little grain of integrity in the heart and life outweighs all\nthe balance at the bank.[186]\n\nA little wisdom, a little sound understanding, or a little wholesome\nknowledge is more precious than wealth. How much better is it to get\nwisdom than gold. Yea, to get understanding is rather to be chosen\nthan silver.[187] There may be gold and abundance of rubies, but the\nlips of knowledge are a precious jewel.[188]\n\nNay, there are some things apparently very trifling which will so\ndepreciate material wealth that if a choice is to be made it is well to\nlet the wealth go and to purchase immunity from these trivial troubles.\nBetter is a little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and\ntrouble therewith. Better is a dinner of herbs where love is than a\nstalled ox and hatred therewith.[189] Better is a dry morsel and\nquietness therewith than an house full of feasting with strife.[190]\nYes, the good will and affectionate regard of our fellow-men are on the\nwhole far more valuable than a large revenue. A good name is rather to\nbe chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and\ngold.[191] Indeed, when the relations of the rich and the poor are\nbrought up into God's presence our whole conception of the matter is\nliable to change; we observe the rich and the poor meet together, and\nthe Lord the maker of them all;[192] we observe that any slur cast on\nthe poor or any oppression of them is practically a reproach against the\nMaker,[193] whilst any act of pity or tenderness to the needy is in\neffect a service rendered to God; and more and more we get to feel that\nnotwithstanding the rich man's good opinion of himself he presents\nrather a sorry spectacle in the presence of the wise, even though the\nwise may be exceedingly poor.[194]\n\nTaking into account therefore the intrinsic insecurity of wealth, and\nthe terrible flaws in the title which may result from questionable\nways of obtaining it, and estimating at a right value the other things\nwhich are not usually reckoned as wealth,--goodness, piety, wisdom,\nknowledge, and love,--we can quite understand that enlightened men\nmight be too busy in life to make money, too occupied with grave\npurposes and engrossed with noble objects of pursuit to admit the\nperturbations of mammon into their souls.[195] Making all allowance\nfor the unquestionable advantages of being rich, and the serious\ninconveniences of being poor, we may yet see reasons for not greatly\ndesiring wealth, nor greatly dreading poverty.\n\nIII. But now we come to the positive counsels which our Teacher would\ngive on the strength of these considerations about money and its\nacquisition. And first of all we are solemnly cautioned against the\nfever of money-getting, the passion to get rich, a passion which has\nthe most demoralising effect on its victims, and is indeed an\nindication of a more or less perverted character. The good man cannot\nbe possessed by it, and if he could he would soon become bad.[196]\n\nThese grave warnings of Wisdom are specially needed at the present\ntime in England and America, when the undisguised and the unrestrained\npursuit of riches has become more and more recognised as the\nlegitimate end of life, so that few people feel any shame in\nadmitting that this is their aim; and the clear unimpassioned\nstatements of the result, which always follows on the unhallowed\npassion, receive daily confirmation from the occasional revelations of\nour domestic, our commercial, and our criminal life. He that is greedy\nof gain, we are told, troubleth his own house.[197] An inheritance may\nbe gotten hastily at the beginning, but the end thereof shall not be\nblessed.[198] A faithful man shall abound with blessings, but he that\nmaketh haste to be rich (and consequently cannot by any possibility be\nfaithful) shall not be unpunished.[199] He that hath an evil eye\nhasteth after riches, and knoweth not that want shall come upon\nhim.[200] \"Weary not thyself,\" therefore, it is said, \"to be rich;\"\nwhich, though it may be the dictate of thine own wisdom,[201] is\nreally unmixed folly, burdened with a load of calamity for the\nunfortunate seeker, for his house, and for all those who are in any\nway dependent upon him.\n\nAgain, while we are cautioned not to aim constantly at the increase of\nour possessions, we are counselled to exercise a generous liberality\nin the disposal of such things as are ours. Curiously enough,\nniggardliness in giving is associated with slothfulness in labour,\nwhile it is implied that the wish to help others is a constant motive\nfor due diligence in the business of life. \"There is that coveteth\ngreedily all the day long, but the righteous giveth and withholdeth\nnot.\"[202] The law of nature,--the law of life,--is to give out and\nnot merely to receive, and in fulfilling that law we receive\nunexpected blessings: \"There is that scattereth and increaseth yet\nmore, and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, and it tendeth\nonly to want. The liberal soul shall be made fat; and he that watereth\nshall be watered also himself.\"[203] \"He that giveth to the poor shall\nnot lack; but he that hideth his eyes shall have many a curse.\"[204]\n\"He that hath pity on the poor lendeth unto the Lord, and his good\ndeed will He pay him again.\"[205] \"He that hath a bountiful eye shall\nbe blessed; for he giveth of his bread to the poor.\"[206]\n\nSuch a wholesome shunning of the thirst for wealth, and such a\ngenerous spirit in aiding others, naturally suggest to the wise man a\ndaily prayer, a request that he may avoid the dangerous extremes, and\nwalk in the happy mean of worldly possessions: \"Give me neither\npoverty nor riches; feed me with the food that is needful for me; lest\nI be full and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord? or lest I be poor\nand steal, and use profanely the name of my God.\"[207] It is a request\nnot easy to make with perfect sincerity; there are not many who, like\nEmerson's grandfather, venture to pray that neither they nor their\ndescendants may ever be rich; while there have been not a few who in a\n\"show of wisdom in will-worship and humility and severity to the body\"\nhave sought for an unnecessary and an unwholesome poverty. But it is a\nwise request; it finds an echo in the prayer which our Lord taught His\ndisciples, and constantly appears inwoven in the apostolic teaching.\nAnd if the individual is to desire such things for himself, he must\nnaturally desire that such may be the lot of his fellow-creatures, and\nhe must make it the aim of his efforts after social reform to\nindefinitely increase the number of those who occupy this happy middle\nposition, and have neither riches nor poverty.\n\nAnd now we have followed the lines of teaching contained in this book\non the subject of wealth, and it is impossible to miss the wisdom, the\nmoderation, the inspiration of such counsels. We cannot fail to see\nthat if these principles were recognised universally, and very\ngenerally practised; if they were ingrained in the constitution of our\nchildren, so as to become the instinctive motives and guides of\naction; the serious social troubles which arise from the\nunsatisfactory distribution of wealth would rapidly disappear. Happy\nwould that society be in which all men were aiming, not at riches, but\nmerely at a modest competency, dreading the one extreme as much as the\nother; in which the production of wealth were constantly moderated and\ncontrolled by the conviction that wealth gotten by vanity is as the\nsnares of death; in which all who had become the owners of wealth were\nready to give and glad to distribute, counting a wise benevolence,\nwhich in giving to the needy really lends to the Lord, the best\ninvestment in the world.\n\nIf these neglected principles are hitherto very faintly recognised, we\nmust recollect that they have never been seriously preached. Although\nthey were theoretically taught, and practically lived out, in the\nwords and the life of Jesus Christ, they have never been fully\nincorporated into Christianity. The medi\u00e6val Church fell into the\nperilous doctrines of the Ebionites, and glorified poverty in theory\nwhile in practice it became an engine of unparalleled rapacity.\nProtestantism has generally been too much occupied with the great\nprinciple of Justification by Faith to pay much attention to such a\nwriting as the Epistle of St. James, which Luther described as \"a\nletter of straw\"; and thus, while we all believe that we are saved by\nfaith in Christ Jesus, it seldom occurs to us that such a faith must\ninclude the most exact and literal obedience to His teachings.\nChristian men unblushingly serve Mammon, and yet hope that they are\nserving God too, because they believe on Him whom God sent--though He\nwhom God sent expressly declared that the two services could not be\ncombined. Christian men make it the effort of a lifetime to become\nrich, although Christ declared that it was easier for a camel to enter\nthe eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of\nheaven; and when they hear that Christ required an intending follower\nto sell all that he had and give to the poor, they explain it away,\nand maintain that He does not require such a sacrifice from them, but\nsimply asks them to believe in the Atonement.\n\nIn this way Christians have made their religion incredible, and even\nridiculous, to many of the most earnest spirits of our time. When\nChrist is made unto them Wisdom as well as Redemption, they will see\nthat the principles of Wisdom which concern wealth are obligatory upon\nthem, just because they profess to believe in Christ.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[155] Prov. x. 15; xviii. 11.\n\n[156] Prov. xiii. 8.\n\n[157] Prov. xviii. 16.\n\n[158] Prov. xix. 6; xiv. 20.\n\n[159] Prov. xxi. 14.\n\n[160] Prov. xvii. 8. More literally: \"A precious stone is the gift in\nthe eyes of him who gets possession of it, whithersoever he turneth he\ndeals wisely.\" That is to say, the man who receives the gift, whether a\njudge or a witness or an opponent, is as it were retained for the giver,\nand induced to use his best faculties in behalf of his retainer.\n\n[161] Prov. xix. 4: \"Wealth addeth many friends, but the poor--his\ncompanion separates from him.\"\n\n[162] Prov. xxii. 17.\n\n[163] Prov. xviii. 23.\n\n[164] Prov. xiv. 20; xix. 4.\n\n[165] Prov. xix. 7. The sense of the Authorised Version is here\nretained, but it will be seen in Lecture XII. that there is good\nreason for treating the third clause of the verse as a mutilated\nfragment of another proverb: see p. 166.\n\n[166] Prov. xxii. 7.\n\n[167] Prov. xii. 9. This reading is obtained by following the LXX.,\nwhose translation \u1f41 \u03b4\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03b5\u03cd\u03c9\u03bd \u1f10\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u1ff7 shows that they pointed \u05dc\u05d5\u05b9 \u05d5\u05b0\u05e2\u05b9\u05d1\u05b5\u05d3.\n_Cf._ Eccles. x. 27: \"Better is he that laboureth and aboundeth in all\nthings than he that boasteth himself and lacketh bread.\"\n\n[168] Prov. x. 4.\n\n[169] Prov. xiii. 18.\n\n[170] Prov. xxii. 4.\n\n[171] Prov. xxi. 20.\n\n[172] Prov. xxiii. 21.\n\n[173] Prov. xxvii. 23-27.\n\n[174] Prov. xi. 28.\n\n[175] Prov. xxiii. 5 (marg.).\n\n[176] _Cf._ the Turkish proverb: \"Of riches lawfully gained the devil\ntakes half, of riches unlawfully gained he takes the whole and the\nowner too.\"\n\n[177] Prov. xv. 6, _cf._ xiv. 24, \"A crown of the wise is their\nriches, but the folly of fools, (though they be rich, remains nothing\nbut) folly.\"\n\n[178] Prov. xiii. 11.\n\n[179] Prov. xxi. 6. It is evident from their translation \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b3\u03af\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2\n\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03ac\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 that the LXX. read \u05de\u05d5\u05b9\u05e7\u05b0\u05e9\u05b5\u05c1\u05d9\u05be\u05de\u05b8\u05d5\u05b6\u05ea as in Psalm xviii. 6, and\nthis gives a very graphic and striking sense, while the received text\nof the Hebrew, \u05de\u05b0\u05d1\u05b7\u05e7\u05b0\u05e9\u05b5\u05c1\u05d9\u05be\u05de\u05b8\u05d5\u05b6\u05ea, is hardly intelligible.\n\n[180] Prov. xxii. 16.\n\n[181] Prov. xiii. 22; xxviii. 8.\n\n[182] Prov. xi. 4.\n\n[183] Prov. x. 22.\n\n[184] Prov. xv. 6.\n\n[185] Prov. xvi. 8.\n\n[186] Prov. xix. 1. The parallelism in this verse is not so complete\nas in xxviii. 6. The Peshitto reads, \"than he who is perverse in his\nlips and is rich,\" but it is better to retain the text and understand:\nThere is a poor man walking in his integrity, and everyone thinks that\nhe is to be commiserated; but he is much better off than the fool with\nperverse lips, though no one thinks of commiserating this last.\n\n[187] Prov. xvi. 16.\n\n[188] Prov. xx. 15.\n\n[189] Prov. xv. 16, 17.\n\n[190] Prov. xvii. 1.\n\n[191] Prov. xxii. 1. This proverb is inscribed in the cupola which\nlights the Manchester Exchange. It is a good skylight, but apparently\ntoo high up for the busy merchants on the floor of the Exchange to see\nwithout more effort than is to be expected of them.\n\n[192] Prov. xxii. 2.\n\n[193] Prov. xiv. 31; xvii. 5.\n\n[194] Prov. xxviii. 11. Cf. an interesting addition to xvii. 6 in the\nLXX.--\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f45\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f41 \u03ba\u03cc\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f00\u03c0\u03af\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u1f72\n\u1f40\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2. The faithful man owns the whole world of possessions, the\nunfaithful owns not a farthing.\n\n[195] It is said of Agassiz that he excused himself from engaging in a\nprofitable lecturing tour on the ground that he had not time to make\nmoney.\n\n[196] _Cf._ the saying of Sirach: \"Winnow not with every wind and go\nnot into every way, for so doth the sinner that hath a double tongue.\"\n(Eccles. v. 9).\n\n[197] Prov. xv. 27.\n\n[198] Prov. xx. 21.\n\n[199] Prov. xxviii. 20.\n\n[200] Prov. xxviii. 22.\n\n[201] Prov. xxiii. 4.\n\n[202] Prov. xxi. 26.\n\n[203] Prov. xi. 24, 25.\n\n[204] Prov. xxviii. 27.\n\n[205] Prov. xix. 17.\n\n[206] Prov. xxii. 9.\n\n[207] Prov. xxx. 8, 9.\n\n\n\n\n XI.\n\n _GOODNESS._\n\n \"The righteousness of the upright shall deliver them.\"--PROV. xi. 6.\n\n \"An unjust man is the abomination of the righteous, and he who goes\n right in his way is the abomination of the wicked.\"--PROV. xxix. 27.\n\n\nThe book of Proverbs abounds with sayings which have the sound of\ntruisms, sayings which repeat, with innumerable variations and shades\nof colouring, that wickedness is an evil, hateful to God and to men,\nand that righteousness is a blessing not only to the righteous\nthemselves, but to all with whom they are connected. We are disposed\nto say, Surely no reasonable person can question such an obvious\ntruth; but on reflection we remember that the truth was not perceived\nby the great religions of antiquity, is not recognised now by the vast\nmajority of the human race, and even where it is theoretically\nadmitted without question is too frequently forgotten in the hurry and\nthe pressure of practical life. There is good reason therefore why the\ntruism, as we are inclined to call it, should be thrown into the form\nof maxims which will find a hold in the memory, and readily occur to\nthe mind on occasions of trial. And as we pass in review what\nProverbial Religion has to say upon the subject, we shall perhaps be\nsurprised to find how imperfectly we have apprehended the supreme\nimportance of goodness, and how insidiously teachings, which were\noriginally meant to enforce it, have usurped its place and treated it\nwith contumely. It will begin to dawn upon us that the truth is a\ntruism, not because it is carried out in practice, but only because no\none has the hardihood to question it; and perhaps we shall receive\nsome impulse towards transforming the conviction which we cannot\ndispute into a mode of conduct which we cannot decline.\n\nTo begin with, our book is most unflinching in its assertions that,\nnotwithstanding all appearances to the contrary, _wickedness is a\nmistake_, a source of perpetual weakness and insecurity, always in the\nlong run producing ruin and death; while _righteousness is in itself a\nperpetual blessing_, and is weighted with beautiful and unexpected\nfruits. The very reiteration becomes most impressive.\n\nThe hope of the righteous shall be gladness; but the expectation of the\nwicked shall perish.[208] The righteous shall never be removed, but the\nwicked shall not dwell in the land.[209] The house of the wicked shall\nbe overthrown, but the tent of the upright shall flourish.[210] The\nwicked earneth deceitful wages, but he that soweth righteousness hath a\nsure reward.[211] A man shall not be established by wickedness, while\nthe root of the righteous shall never be moved.[212] The wicked really\nfalls by his own wickedness, and is swept away by his own violence.[213]\nHe sows iniquity and reaps calamity.[214] His crooked way, his\nmalignant thoughts, the hatred against his neighbour, the guile in his\nheart, and the flood of evil things which comes out of his lips, have\none issue--destruction.[215] When he comes to die, his expectation\nperishes, all the hope of iniquity ends in disappointment.[216] His lamp\ngoes out not to be relit.[217] Meanwhile, the light of the righteous man\nrejoices, because he attains unto life as surely as the wicked works\ntowards death.[218]\n\nIt is true that the appearance of things is different. Hand joins in\nhand to promote evil.[219] Men follow out what seems right in their own\nhearts, evil as they are.[220] Success seems to attend them, and one is\ntempted to envy the sinners, and to fret at their ways.[221] But the\nenvy is misplaced; the evil man does not go unpunished; the wicked are\noverthrown and are not.[222] The way which seemed right in a man's eyes\nproves to be the way of death.[223] A righteous man falleth seven times\nand riseth up again; but the wicked are overthrown by calamity,[224] and\nthe righteous are obliged to look upon their fall.[225]\n\nOn the other hand, goodness is its own continual reward. While\ntreacherous men are destroyed by their perverseness, the upright are\nguided by their own integrity.[226] While the sinner is overthrown by\nhis wickedness, righteousness guardeth him that is upright in the\nway.[227] If the righteous gets into trouble he is delivered, while\nthe wicked falls into his place:[228] there is a kind of substitution;\na ransom is paid to enable the righteous to escape, and the ransom is\nthe person of the wicked.[229] Not only does the righteous come out of\ntrouble,[230] but, strictly speaking, no mischief really happens to\nhim; it is only the wicked that is filled with evil.[231] The\nrighteous eats to the satisfying of his own soul, but the belly of the\nwicked shall want.[232] The good man walks on a highway and so\npreserves his soul.[233] Mercy and truth shine upon him because he\ndevises good.[234] He only followed after righteousness and mercy, but\nhe found life, righteousness, and honour.[235] His heart is flooded\nwith joy, he actually sings as he journeys on.[236] He seems like a\ntree in the green leaf, a tree of life, the fruits of which cannot\nfail to be attractive; so that he unconsciously wins favour.[237] The\nfruit does not fail, because the root is alive.[238] And if in actual\nlife this blessedness of the good man does not appear, if by reason of\nthe evil in the world the righteous seem to be punished, and the noble\nto be smitten,[239] that only creates a conviction that the fruit\nwill grow in another life; for when we have closely observed the\ninseparable connection between goodness and blessedness, we cannot\navoid the conviction that \"the righteous hath hope in his death.\"[240]\nYes, practical goodness is the source of perpetual blessing, and it\ncannot be altogether hidden. Even a child maketh himself known by his\ndoings, whether his work be pure and right.[241] To the good we must\nassign the supremacy; the evil must bow before them and wait at their\ngates.[242] And it is easy to understand why it appears so\nincongruous--so abnormal, like a troubled fountain and a corrupted\nspring, when the righteous give way to the wicked.[243]\n\nNor is the blessing of goodness at all limited to the good man\nhimself. It falls on his children too. A just man that walketh in his\nintegrity, blessed are his children after him.[244] It reaches even to\nthe third generation. A good man leaveth an inheritance to his\nchildren's children.[245] The righteous is a guide to his neighbour\nalso.[246] He is a joy to his sovereign; he that loveth pureness of\nheart, for the grace of his lips the king shall be his friend.[247]\nHis character and his well-being are a matter of public, even of\nnational concern, for there is something winning in him; he acts as a\nsaving influence upon those who are around him.[248] Therefore, when\nthe righteous increase the people rejoice,[249] when they triumph\nthere is great glory.[250] When it goeth well with the righteous the\ncity rejoiceth, just as when the wicked perish there is shouting. By\nthe blessing of the upright the city is exalted, just as it is\noverthrown by the mouth of the wicked.[251] Yes, righteousness\nexalteth a nation, while sin is a reproach to the whole people.[252]\n\nIt is the grand public interest to see the wicked perish in order that\nthe righteous may increase:[253] for the way of the wicked causes\nother people to err.[254] His lips are like a scorching fire;[255] his\npresence brings a general atmosphere of contempt, ignominy, and\nshame.[256] When the wicked rise men hide themselves,[257] when they\nbear rule the people sigh.[258] Well may the national feeling be\nsevere on all those who encourage the wicked in any way. He that saith\nunto the wicked, Thou art righteous, peoples shall curse him, nations\nshall abhor him; but to them that rebuke him shall be delight, and a\ngood blessing shall come upon them.[259] It is a sure sign that one is\nforsaking the law when one ceases to contend with the wicked and\nbegins to praise them.[260]\n\nBlessing to himself, blessing to his children, his neighbours, his\ncountry, is the beautiful reward of the good man; ruin to himself, a\nspreading contagion of evil to others, and general execration, is the\nlot of the wicked. Well may the former be bold as a lion, and well\nmay the latter flee when no man pursues, for conscience makes cowards\nof us all.[261]\n\nBut at present we have not touched on the chief blessedness of the\ngood, and the chief curse of the evil, on that which is really the\nspring and fountain-head of all. It is the great fact that _God is\nwith the righteous and against the wicked_, that He judges men\naccording to their integrity or perverseness, and accepts them or\nrejects them simply upon that principle. By looking at this lofty\ntruth we get all our conceptions on the subject cleared. The perverse\n_in heart_ are an abomination to the Lord; such as are perfect in\ntheir way are His delight.[262] A good man shall obtain favour of the\nLord, but a man of wicked devices will He condemn.[263] Evil devices\nare an abomination to the Lord,[264] and so is the wicked, but He\nloveth the righteous.[265] To justify the wicked or to condemn the\nrighteous is equally abominable to Him.[266] He considers the house of\nthe wicked, how the wicked are overthrown to their ruin.[267] He\noverthrows the words of the treacherous man, while His eyes preserve\nhim that hath knowledge.[268] He weighs the heart and keeps the soul\nand renders to every man according to his work.[269] Thus His way is a\nstronghold to the upright, but a destruction to the workers of\niniquity.[270] He does not regard prayer so much as righteousness; he\nthat turneth away his ear from hearing the law, even his prayer is an\nabomination.[271] Sacrifice goes for nothing in His sight if the life\nis not holy. To do justice and judgment is more acceptable to the Lord\nthan sacrifice.[272] The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination:\nhow much more when he bringeth it with a wicked mind?[273] Yes, it is\nan abomination to the Lord, just as the prayer of the upright is His\ndelight. The Lord is far from the wicked, but He heareth the prayer of\nthe righteous.[274] When the foolish sinner offers a sin-offering\ninstead of relinquishing his sin, the very offering mocks him, for it\nis only the righteous who find favour with the Lord.[275]\n\nIt is this solemn truth, the truth of God's own way of regarding\ngoodness and wickedness, which makes earnestness on the subject\nessential. If goodness were only pleasing to man, if sin were only an\noffence against creatures like ourselves, ordinary prudence would\nrequire us to be good and to avoid evil, but higher sanction would be\nwanting. When, however, the matter is taken up into the Divine\npresence, and we begin to understand that the Supreme Ruler of all\nthings loves righteousness and hates iniquity, visits the one with\nfavour and the other with reprobation, quite a new sanction is\nintroduced. The wicked man, who makes light of evil, to whom it is as\na sport, appears to be nothing short of an absolute fool.[276] In\nGod's presence it is not difficult to perceive that goodness is\nwisdom, the only wisdom, the perfect wisdom.\n\nBut now it may occur to some of us that it is surely nothing very\nwonderful to lay this stress upon the close connection between goodness\nand God-pleasing. Is it not, we are inclined to say, the most obvious\nand unquestioned of facts that God requires goodness at our hands, and\nis angry with the wicked every day? It is not very wonderful to us,\nbecause Revelation has made it familiar, but none the less it is a truth\nof Revelation, and if we were to ask in what the Inspiration of this\nbook consists, no simpler and truer answer could be given than that it\nteaches, as we have just seen, the alliance of God with righteousness\nand the abhorrence in which He holds wickedness.\n\nYes, a truism, but it was a discovery which the world was very slow to\nmake, and it is still a principle on which the world is very unwilling\nto act.\n\nThe main characteristic of all heathen religions is that their gods do\nnot demand righteousness, but certain outward and formal observances;\nsacrifices must be offered to them, their vindictive temper must be\npropitiated, their anger averted; if the dues of the gods are paid,\nthe stipulated quantity of corn and wine and oil, the tithes, the\nfirstfruits, the animals for the altar, the tribute for the temple,\nthen the worshipper who has thus discharged his obligations may feel\nhimself free to follow out his own tastes and inclinations. In the\nRoman religion, for example, every dealing with the gods was a\nstrictly legal contract; the Roman general agreed with Jupiter or with\nMars that if the battle should be won a temple should be built. It was\nnot necessary that the cause should be right, or that the general\nshould be good; the sacrifice of the wicked, though offered with an\nevil intent, was as valid as the sacrifice of the good. In either\ncase the same amount of marble and stone, of silver and gold, would\ncome to the god.\n\nIn the Eastern religions not only were goodness and righteousness\ndissociated from the idea of the gods, but evil of the grossest kinds\nwas definitely associated with them. The Ph\u0153nician deities, like those\nof the Hindoos, were actually worshipped with rites of murder and\nlust. Every vice had its patron god or goddess, and it was forgotten\nby priest and people that goodness could be the way of pleasing God,\nor moral evil a cause of offence to Him.\n\nEven in Israel, where the teaching of Revelation was current in the\nproverbs of the people, the practice generally followed the heathen\nconceptions. All the burning protests of the inspired prophets could\nnot avail to convince the Israelite that what God required was not\nsacrifice and offering, but to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk\nhumbly with Him. Again and again we find that the high places were\nfrequented and the ritual supported by men who were sensual, unjust,\nand cruel. The Sabbath Day was kept, the feasts were duly observed,\nthe priests were handsomely maintained, and there, it was supposed,\nthe legitimate claims of Jehovah ceased. What more could He desire?\n\nThis is surely the most impressive proof that the Truth which is under\nconsideration is far from being obvious. Israel himself, the chosen\nchannel for communicating this truth to the world, was so slow to\nunderstand and to grasp it, that his religious observances were\nconstantly degenerating into lifeless ceremonies devoid of all moral\nsignificance, and his religious teachers were mainly occupied in\ndenouncing his conduct as wholly inconsistent with the truth.\n\nSo far from treating the truth as a truism, our Lord in all His\nteaching laboured to bring it out in greater clearness, and to set it\nin the forefront of His message to men. He made it the very keynote of\nthe Gospel that not every one who says, Lord, Lord, shall enter into\nthe kingdom of heaven, but he that doeth the will of His Father in\nheaven. He painted with exquisite simplicity and clearness the right\nlife, the conduct which God requires of us, and then likened every one\nwho practised this life to a man who builds his house on a rock, and\nevery one who does not practise it to a man who builds his house on\nthe sand. He declared, in the spirit of all that we have just read\nfrom the book of Proverbs, that teachers were to be judged by their\nfruits, and that God would estimate our lives not by what we professed\nto do, but by what we did; and He took up the very language of the\nbook in declaring that every man should be judged according to his\nworks.[277] In every word He spoke He made it plain that goodness is\nwhat God loves, and that wickedness is what He judges and destroys. In\nthe same way every one of the Apostles insists on this truth with a\nnew earnestness. St. John more especially reiterates it, in words\nwhich sound even more like a truism than the sayings of this book: \"He\nthat doeth righteousness is righteous even as He is righteous;\" and,\n\"If ye know that He is righteous, ye know that every one also that\ndoeth righteousness is begotten of Him.\"[278]\n\nThe Gospel itself is accompanied by a new and more earnest assertion\nof this cardinal truth, that God loves goodness, and that He judges\nmen according to their works. And even now, after many centuries of\nChristian faith, and notwithstanding all the teachings of the Bible\nand the witness of the Spirit, it is very difficult for many of us to\nunderstand that religion is goodness, and religion without goodness is\nimpiety of the worst kind. It is supposed by some, in face of all the\naccumulated truth and wisdom of the ages which have passed since this\nbook was written, that God's last and highest message is a\ndispensation from practical righteousness--that the Gospel of Grace\nmeans God's willingness to accept men because they believe, apart from\nthe actual goodness to which all faith is calculated to lead; as if\nthe Gospel were an announcement that God had entirely changed His\nnature, and that all the best and noblest teachings of His Spirit in\nthe past were set aside by His final revelation. Behind some figment\nor other, some perverted notion of imputed righteousness, men try to\nhide their guilty countenance, and to persuade themselves that now, in\nvirtue of the Cross, they can see God without holiness, without purity\nof heart. Heaven has been treated as a place where men can enter who\nwork abomination and make a lie; and in order to secure a full\nacceptance for our dogma we try to depreciate goodness as if it were a\nthing of little worth, and even come to look with some suspicion on\nthose who are only good--only moral, I think we call it--and do not\nhold our own views of speculative truth. Meanwhile religious teachers\n\"tell the wicked they are righteous,\" and earn the curse of the\nnation, because they thereby enable men to be hard and cruel and\nunjust and selfish and proud and contemptuous, and yet to esteem\nthemselves as justified by faith. Others \"justify the wicked,\"\naccepting a verbal profession in place of a virtuous practice; and\nthat, as we have seen, is abominable to the Lord.\n\nJustification by faith loses all its meaning and all its value unless\nit is fully admitted that _to be just_ is the great end and aim of\nreligion. Salvation becomes a delusion unless it is perceived that it\nmeans righteousness. Heaven, and the saints' everlasting rest, become\nworthless and misleading ideas unless we recognise that it is the\nabode of goodness, and that saints are not, as we sometimes seem to\nimply, bad people regarded as holy by a legal fiction, but people who\nare made good and are actually holy.\n\nStrong as the language of our book is upon the subject, it is not\npossible to bring out in mere proverbial sayings the eternal necessity\nof this great truth. Goodness and blessedness are actually identical,\nthe reverse and the obverse sides of the same coin. If a man is made\ngood he is made blessed; but if he is made blessed to all appearance,\nand not good, the blessedness proves to be an illusion. It could not\npossibly avail to be justified by faith, unless we were made just by\nfaith; a sore body is not healed by covering it up, a dead man is not\nquickened by a smiling mask. There have been many people who counted\nthemselves the elect, and made no question that they were saved,\nthough they remained all the time inwardly wicked; they were\nmiserable, sour, discontented, censorious, a burden to themselves, an\neyesore to others; they were persuaded that they would be happy in\nheaven, and they supposed that their constant wretchedness was due to\ntheir being pilgrims in a strange land; but the fact was they would\nbe more wretched still in heaven, for nowhere is evil such a curse as\nin a place where good prevails; their misery arose from their own\nwicked hearts, and in the next world, their hearts still being wicked,\ntheir misery must continue and increase.\n\nMay God grant us a clear vision in this matter, that we may see the\ndue relation of things! Goodness is the principal thing--for it faith\nitself and all religion exists. God is goodness--man is evil; what God\nmeans by saving us is to make us good like Himself. That we must be\nsaved by faith means that we must be made good by faith, not that we\nmust take faith in place of goodness. That righteousness is imputed to\nus by the goodness of God means that the goodness of Christ is\nreckoned as ours for the purpose of making us good, not in order to\nspare us the necessity of being good. And in this way, and this only,\nwe must estimate one another. What a man believes in his heart we can\nnever fully know; but whether he is good or not is a matter plain as\nthe day. It is easy to bandy words of reproach, to call men\nunbelievers, sceptics, atheists; but there is only one wise way of\nspeaking and thinking. If we see goodness, let us thank God, for\nthere, be sure, His Spirit is;[279] if we see the lovely graces which\nshine in our Lord Jesus Christ gleaming, however fitfully, in our\nfellow-men, let us recognise Christ there. And where we see\nwickedness, let no consideration of outward Christian profession or\northodoxy of belief restrain us from fully recognising that it is\nevil, or from courageously contending against it.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[208] Prov. x. 28.\n\n[209] Prov. x. 30.\n\n[210] Prov. xiv. 11. Cf. Prov. xii. 7: \"Overthrow the wicked; and they\nare not (_i.e._, there is no rising again for them), but the house of\nthe righteous shall stand.\"\n\n[211] Prov. xi. 18.\n\n[212] Prov. xiii. 3.\n\n[213] Prov. xi. 5, 6; xxi. 7.\n\n[214] Prov. xxii. 8.\n\n[215] Prov. xxi. 7, 8, 10, 15; xxvi. 24, 26; xv. 28.\n\n[216] Prov. xi. 7.\n\n[217] Prov. xiii. 9; xxiv. 20.\n\n[218] Prov. xi. 19.\n\n[219] Prov. xi. 21.\n\n[220] Prov. xiv. 12; xvi. 5, 25; xxi. 2.\n\n[221] Prov. xxiii. 17, 18; xxiv. 1, 19.\n\n[222] Prov. xii. 7.\n\n[223] Prov. xiv. 12; xvi. 25.\n\n[224] Prov. xxiv. 15, 16.\n\n[225] Prov. xxix. 16.\n\n[226] Prov. xi. 3.\n\n[227] Prov. xiii. 6. Cf. Prov. xiv. 14: \"The backslider in heart shall\nbe sated from his own ways, and the good man from himself.\" Though\nprobably we ought to read, with Nowack, \u05de\u05b4\u05de\u05b0\u05bc\u05e2\u05b2\u05dc\u05b8\u05dc\u05b8\u05d9\u05d5, which would\ngive a completer parallelism: \"The backslider shall be sated from his\nown ways, and the good man from his own doings.\"\n\n[228] Prov. xi. 8. Cf. Prov. xxviii. 18.\n\n[229] Prov. xxi. 18.\n\n[230] Prov. xii. 13.\n\n[231] Prov. xii. 21.\n\n[232] Prov. xiii. 25.\n\n[233] Prov. xvi. 17; xix. 16.\n\n[234] Prov. xiv. 22.\n\n[235] Prov. xxi. 21.\n\n[236] Prov. xxi. 15; xxix. 6. Unless, with Delitzsch, we are to read\n\u05d1\u05b0\u05bc\u05e4\u05b6\u05e9\u05b7\u05c2\u05e2 for \u05d1\u05b0\u05bc\u05e4\u05b6\u05e9\u05b7\u05c1\u05e2, and \u05d9\u05b8\u05e8\u05d5\u05bc\u05e6 for \u05d9\u05b8\u05e8\u05d5\u05bc\u05df, which would give: \"In\nthe steps of a bad man lie snares, but the righteous runs and rejoices.\"\n\n[237] Prov. xi. 27, 30.\n\n[238] Prov. xii. 12.\n\n[239] Prov. xvii. 26: \"To punish the righteous is not good, nor to\nsmite the noble for their uprightness.\"\n\n[240] Prov. xiv. 32.\n\n[241] Prov. xx. 11.\n\n[242] Prov. xiv. 19.\n\n[243] Prov. xxv. 26.\n\n[244] Prov. xiv. 26: \"In the fear of the Lord is strong confidence: and\nhis children shall have a place of refuge.\" So Prov. xx. 7: \"A just man\nthat walketh in his integrity: blessed are his children after him.\"\n\n[245] Prov. xiii. 22.\n\n[246] Prov. xii. 26.\n\n[247] Prov. xxii. 11. Cf. Prov. xvi. 13.\n\n[248] Prov. xi. 31.\n\n[249] Prov. xxix. 2.\n\n[250] Prov. xxviii. 12.\n\n[251] Prov. xi. 10, 11.\n\n[252] Prov. xiv. 34.\n\n[253] Prov. xxviii. 28.\n\n[254] Prov. xii. 26.\n\n[255] Prov. xvi. 27.\n\n[256] Prov. xviii. 3.\n\n[257] Prov. xxviii. 28.\n\n[258] Prov. xxix. 2.\n\n[259] Prov. xxiv. 24, 25.\n\n[260] Prov. xxviii. 4.\n\n[261] Prov. xxviii. 1.\n\n[262] Prov. xi. 20.\n\n[263] Prov. xii. 2.\n\n[264] Prov. xv. 26.\n\n[265] Prov. xv. 9.\n\n[266] Prov. xvii. 15, 26; xviii. 5.\n\n[267] Prov. xxi. 12, where \"one that is righteous\" seems to mean God\nHimself; see the margin of R.V.\n\n[268] Prov. xxii. 12.\n\n[269] Prov. xxiv. 12.\n\n[270] Prov. x. 29.\n\n[271] Prov. xxviii. 9.\n\n[272] Prov. xxi. 3.\n\n[273] Prov. xxi. 27.\n\n[274] Prov. xv. 8, 29.\n\n[275] Prov. xiv. 9. This seems to be the meaning of this difficult\nverse, which should be translated: The sin-offering mocks fools, but\namong the righteous is favour.\n\n[276] Prov. x. 23.\n\n[277] Matt. xvi. 27.\n\n[278] 1 John iii. 7, 10; ii. 29.\n\n[279] \"If ye know that He is righteous,\" says St. John, \"ye know that\nevery one also that doeth righteousness is begotten of Him.\" (1 John\nii. 29).\n\n\n\n\n XII.\n\n _THE TONGUE._\n\n \"A man shall be satisfied with good by the fruit of his MOUTH: and\n the doings of a man's hands shall be rendered unto him.\"--PROV.\n xii. 14.\n\n \"In the transgression of the LIPS is a snare to an evil man: but\n the righteous shall come out of trouble.\"--PROV. xii. 13.\n\n \"A fool's vexation is PRESENTLY KNOWN: but a prudent man\n concealeth shame.\"--PROV. xii. 16.\n\n \"He that uttereth truth SHOWETH FORTH righteousness, but a false\n witness deceit.\"--PROV. xii. 17.\n\n \"The LIP of truth shall be established for ever: but a lying\n TONGUE is but for a moment.\"--PROV. xii. 19.\n\n \"Lying LIPS are an abomination unto the Lord: but they that deal\n truly are His delight.\"--PROV. xii. 22.\n\n \"There is that SPEAKETH rashly like the piercings of a sword: but\n the TONGUE of the wise is health.\"--PROV. xii. 18.\n\n \"A prudent man CONCEALETH knowledge: but the heart of fools\n proclaimeth foolishness.\"--PROV. xii. 23.\n\n \"The WORDS of the wicked are a lying in wait for blood: but the\n MOUTH of the upright shall deliver them.\"--PROV. xii. 6.\n\n \"Heaviness in the heart of a man maketh it stoop; but a good WORD\n maketh it glad.\"--PROV. xii. 25.\n\n\nThere is nothing which seems more insubstantial than speech, a mere\nvibration in the atmosphere which touches the nerves of hearing and\nthen dies away. There is no organ which seems smaller and less\nconsiderable than the tongue; a little member which is not even seen,\nand, physically speaking, soft and weak. But the word which issues\nout of the lips is the greatest power in human life. That \"soft tongue\nbreaketh the bone.\"[280] Words will change the currents of life: look\nfor instance at a great orator addressing his audience; how miraculous\nmust it seem to a deaf man watching the speaker that the quiet opening\nof a mouth should be able to produce such powerful effects upon the\nfaces, the movements, the conduct of the listeners!\n\nWe are coming to consider the importance of this diminutive organ, the\nill uses and the good uses to which it may be turned, and the\nconsequent necessity of fitly directly and restraining it.\n\nOn the use of the tongue depend the issues of a man's own life. It may\nbe regarded as a tree which bears fruits of different kinds, and such\nfruits as his tongue bears a man must eat. If his words have been good,\nthen he shall be satisfied with good by the fruit of his mouth.[281] \"A\nman's belly shall be filled with the fruit of his mouth, with the\nincrease of his lips shall he be satisfied.\"[282] The fruits which grow\non this tongue-tree are death and life--the tongue produces them--and he\nthat loves the tree shall according to his love eat the one fruit or the\nother; if he loves death-bearing speech he shall eat death; if he loves\nlife-bearing speech he shall eat life.[283] So deadly may be the fruit\nof the tongue that the mouth of the fool is regarded as a present\ndestruction.[284] So wholesome may be the fruit of the tongue that the\ntongue of the wise may be actually denominated health.[285]\n\nIn the case of the fool it is always very obvious how powerfully the\ntongue affects the condition of the speaker. His lips are always\ncoming into strife, and his mouth is always calling for stripes. It is\nhis destruction, and his lips are the snare of his soul.[286] In the\ntransgression of the lips always lies the snare for the evil man:\nultimately all men are in effect condemned out of their own\nmouths.[287] The tongue proves to be a rod for the back of the proud\nand foolish owner of it, while the good man's tongue is a constant\nlife-preserver.[288] As an old proverb says, a fool's tongue is always\nlong enough to cut his own throat. On the other hand, where the tongue\nis wisely used it always brings back joy to the speaker in the\nend.[289] Thus whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps his soul\nfrom troubles,[290] but the man who does not take the pains to hear,\nbut gives his testimony falsely, shall perish.[291] While the use of\nthe tongue thus recoils on the speaker for good or for evil, it has a\nwide influence also on others. \"He that hath a perverse tongue falleth\ninto mischief,\"[292] but when speech is good, and such as it ought to\nbe, \"the words of a man's mouth are like deep waters, a gushing brook,\na well of wisdom.\"[293]\n\nThus it is of vast and obvious importance how we use our tongue. If\nour speech is gracious we shall win the friendship of the king,[294]\nand it is a pleasant thing if we \"keep the words of the wise within us\nand if they be established together upon our lips.\"[295] It is better\nfor us to be poor than perverse or untruthful in our speech.[296] Our\nteacher, especially our Divine Lord, will rejoice inwardly and deeply\n\"when our lips speak right things.\"[297]\n\nWe are now cautioned against some of the evil purposes to which the\ntongue may be turned, and as all the heads of evil are passed in\nreview we realize why St. James spoke of the tongue as \"the world of\niniquity\" (iii. 6); and how profound was our Lord's teaching that out\nof the mouth proceed the things which defile a man (Matt. xv. 18).\n\nFirst of all, the tongue is a fruitful source of _Quarrelling_ and\ndiscord. A fool cannot hide his vexation, but must immediately blurt\nit out with the tongue.[298] When he is angry he must utter it all at\nonce,[299] though a wise man would keep it back and still it, so\nconcealing shame. No one is more certain to come to grief than \"he who\nprovokes with words.\"[300] These irritating taunts and threats are\nlike coals to hot embers, and wood to fire;[301] in their absence the\ncontention would quickly die out. It is therefore the wise counsel of\nAgur to one who has done foolishly in exalting himself, or has even\nentertained for a moment the arrogant or quarrelsome thought, \"Hand\non thy mouth!\" for speech under such circumstances produces strife as\nsurely as churning produces butter from milk, or a blow on the nose\nblood.[302] Rash, inconsiderate, angry words are like the piercings of\na sword.[303] If only our wrathful spirit made us immediately dumb,\nanger would never go far, it would die out as a conflagration dies\nwhen there is no wind to fan the flames.\n\nBut again, the tongue is the instrument of _Lying_; one of its worst\ndisservices to man is that when it is well balanced, so that it easily\nwags, it often betrays him into untruths which his heart never\ncontemplated nor even approved. It is the tongue which by false\nwitness so often condemns the innocent.[304] A worthless witness\nmocketh at judgment; and the mouth of the wicked swalloweth\niniquity.[305] And though such a witness shall not in the long run go\nunpunished, nor shall the liar escape,[306] yet, as experience shows,\nhe may have brought ruin or calamity on others before vengeance falls\nupon him. The false witness shall perish,[307] but often not before he\nhas like a mace or a hammer bruised and like a sword or a sharp arrow\npierced his unfortunate neighbour.[308] It is the tongue which glozes\nover the purposes of hate, and lulls the victim into a false security;\nthe fervent lips and the wicked heart are like a silver lining spread\nover an earthen vessel to make it look like silver; the hatred is\ncunningly concealed, the seven abominations in the heart are hidden;\nthe pit which is being dug and the stone which is to overwhelm the\ninnocent are kept secret by the facile talk and flatteries of the\ntongue; the more the tongue lies in its guileful machinations the more\nthe heart hates the victims of its spite.[309] A righteous man hates\nlying, but the wicked, by his lies, brings disgrace and shame.[310]\nThe lie often appears to prosper for a moment,[311] but happily it is\nan abomination to the Lord,[312] and in His righteous ordering of\nevents he makes the falsehood which was as bread, and sweet to the\nlips, into gravel which breaks the teeth in the mouth.[313] The curse\nwhich is causeless is frustrated, and so also is the empty lie; it\nwanders without rest, without limit, like a sparrow or a swallow.[314]\n\nClosely allied to lying is _Flattery_; and to this vile use the tongue\nis often put. Flattery is always a mistake. It does not attain its end\nin winning the favour of the flattered; for in the long run \"he that\nrebuketh a man shall find more favour than he that flattereth with the\ntongue.\"[315] If it is believed, as often unfortunately it is, it\nproves to be a net spread in the path, which may trip up, and may even\ncapture and destroy, the unwary walker.[316]\n\nAnother evil use of the tongue is for _Whispering and tale-bearing_.\n\"He that goeth about as a tale-bearer revealeth secrets\"--he is not to\nbe trusted, it is better to have nothing to do with him. Disclosing\nthe secret of another is a sure way of incurring reproach and lasting\ninfamy. Such a habit is a fruitful source of rage and indignation, it\nbrings black wrath to the countenance of him whose secret has been\npublished, just as a north wind spreads the rain clouds over the\nsky.[317] The temptation to tattling is great; the business of a\ngossip brings an immediate reward; for the corrupt heart of man\ndelights in scandal as an epicure in tit-bits: \"The words of a\nwhisperer are as dainty morsels which go down into the chamber of the\nbelly.\"[318] But what mischief they do! They separate bosom friends,\nsowing suspicion and distrust.[319] Where there is already a little\nmisunderstanding, the whisperer supplies wood to the fire and keeps it\nburning; apart from him it would soon die out.[320] But if he thinks\nthere is any prospect of a reconciliation he will be constantly\nharping on the matter; one who seeks love would try to hide the\ntransgression, but the scandalmonger is a foe to love and the\nunfailing author of enmity.[321]\n\nBut there is _Mischief_, more deliberate and more malignant still,\nwhich the tongue is employed to plot, to plan and to execute. \"With\nhis mouth the godless man destroyeth his neighbour.\"[322] \"The words\nof the wicked are a lying in wait for blood.\"[323] \"The mouth of the\nwicked poureth out evil things,\"[324] blasphemies, obscenities,\ncurses, imprecations. \"A froward man scattereth abroad strife.\"[325]\nHe deceives, and in bitter raillery declares that he was only jesting;\nhe is like a madman casting firebrands, arrows, and death.[326] We\nknow what it is to hear a man pouring out foul, abusive, and impious\nlanguage, until the very atmosphere seems enflamed with firebrands,\nand arrows fly hither and thither through the horrified air. We know,\ntoo, what it is to hear the smooth and well-turned speech of the\nhypocrite and the impostor, which seems to oppress the heart with a\nsense of decomposition; righteousness, truth, and joy seem to wither\naway, and in the choking suffocation of deceit and fraud life itself\nseems as if it must expire.\n\nIt is a relief to turn from those worst uses of the tongue to the more\npardonable vices of _Rashness_ and _Inopportuneness_ of speech. Yet\nthese too are evil enough in their way. To pass a judgment before we are\nin possession of the facts, and before we have taken the pains to\ncarefully investigate and consider them, is a sign of folly and a source\nof shame.[327] So impressed is our teacher with the danger of\nill-considered speech that he says, \"Seest thou a man that is hasty in\nhis words? there is more hope of a fool than of him.\"[328] And even\nwhere the utterance of the tongue is in itself good it may be rendered\nevil by its untimeliness; religious talk itself may be so introduced as\nto hinder the cause of religion; pearls may be cast before swine: \"Speak\nnot in the hearing of a fool, for he will despise the wisdom of thy\nwords.\"[329] There must be some preparation of spirit before we can\nwisely introduce Divine and heavenly things, and circumstances must not\nbe chosen which will tend to make the Divine things seem mean and\ncontemptible. It may be good to rebuke an evildoer, or to admonish a\nfriend; but if the opportunity is not fitting, we may make the evildoer\nmore evil,--we may alienate our friend without improving him.\n\nConsidering then what mischief may be done with the tongue, it is not to\nbe wondered at that we are cautioned against _excessive speech_. \"In the\nmultitude of words there wanteth not transgression, but he that\nrefraineth his lips doeth wisely.\"[330] \"He that guardeth his mouth\nkeepeth his life; who opens wide his lips gets destruction, and a fool\nspreadeth out folly.\"[331] \"In all labour is profit, the talk of the\nlips tends only to poverty.\"[332] \"Wisdom rests in the heart of the\nunderstanding, but even in the inward part of fools all is\nblabbed.\"[333] \"In the fool are no lips of knowledge\" because he is\nalways talking.[334] \"The tongue of the wise uttereth knowledge aright,\nbut the mouth of fools poureth out folly.\"[335] \"A fool hath no delight\nin understanding, but only that his heart may reveal itself.\"[336] One\nwho is always pouring out talk is sure to be pouring out folly. The wise\nman, feeling that all his words must be tested and weighed, is not able\nto talk very much. When your money is all in copper, you may afford to\nthrow it about, but when it is all in gold you have to be cautious. A\nChristian feels that for every idle word he utters he will have to give\naccount, and as none of his words are to be idle they must be\ncomparatively few; the word that kindles wrath, the lie, the whisper,\nthe slander, can therefore find no place on his lips.\n\nThis brings us to the _Good and beautiful uses of the tongue_, those\nuses which justify us in calling the tongue of the wise Health.[337]\nFirst of all the tongue has the gracious power of soothing and\nrestraining anger. It is the readiest instrument of peace-making.\nGentleness of speech allays great offences,[338] and by preventing\nquarrels, disarming wrath, and healing the wounds of the spirit, it\nmaintains its claim to be a tree of life.[339] If in the tumult of\npassion, when fiery charges are made and grievous provocations are\nuttered, the tongue can be held in firm restraint, and made to give a\nsoft answer, the storm will subside, the angry assailant will retire\nabashed,[340] and the flaming arrows will be quenched in the buckler\nof meekness which opposes them. Nor is the tongue only defensive in\nsuch cases. The pleasant words, spoken out of a kindly and gentle\nnature, have a purifying effect;[341] they cleanse away the\ndefilements out of which the evil passions sprang; they purge the\ndiseased humours which produce the irritations of life; they supply a\nsweet food to the poor hearts of men, who are often contentious\nbecause they are hungry for sympathy and love. Pleasant words are as\na honeycomb, sweet to the soul, health to the bones.[342] They must be\ntrue words, or they will not in the end be pleasant, for, as we have\nseen, the sweet bread of falsehood turns to gravel in the mouth. But\nwhat a different world this would become if we all spoke as many\npleasant words as we honestly could, and were not so painfully afraid\nof showing what tenderness and pity and healing actually exist in our\nhearts! For another beautiful use of the tongue is to comfort the\nmourners, of whom there are always so many in the world. \"Heaviness in\nthe heart of a man maketh it stoop.\" There are these stooping,\nbowed-down hearts everywhere around us. We wish that we could remove\nthe cause of sorrow, that we could effectually change the conditions\nwhich seem unfavourable to joy; but being unable to do this, we often\nstand aloof and remain silent, because we shrink from giving words\nwithout deeds, pity without relief. We forget that when the heart is\nheavy it is just \"a good word that maketh it glad.\"[343] Yes, a word\nof genuine sympathy, a word from the heart,--and in trouble no other\nword can be called good,--will often do more to revive the drooping\nspirit than the grosser gifts of material wealth. A coin kindly given,\na present dictated by a heart-felt love, may come as a spiritual\nblessing; on the other hand, money given without love is worthless,\nand seldom earns so much as gratitude, while a word in season, how\ngood it is![344] It is better than silver and gold; the discouraged\nand despondent heart seems to be touched with the delicate finger of\nhope, and to rise from the ashes and the dust with a new purpose and\na new life. It must, of course, be in season. \"As vinegar upon nitre\nso is he that sings songs to a sad heart.\"[345] But the seasonable\nword, spoken just at the right moment and just in the right tone,\nbrief and simple, but comprehending and penetrating, will often make\nthe sad heart sing a song for itself.\n\nGreat stress is to be laid on this seasonableness of speech, whether\nthe speech be for comfort or reproof. A word fitly spoken, or to\npreserve the image implied in the original, a word that runs on its\nwheels in the just and inevitable groove, is compared to a beautiful\nornament consisting of golden apples set in an appropriate framework\nof silver filigree.[346] In such an ornament the golden apples torn\nfrom their suitable foil would lose half their beauty, and the silver\nsetting without the apples would only suggest a void and a missing. It\nis in the combination that the artistic value is to be found. In the\nsame way, the wisest utterance spoken foolishly[347] jars upon the\nhearers, and misses the mark, while a very simple saying, a platitude\nin itself, may by its setting become lovely and worthy. The best\nsermon in a social gathering will seem out of place, but how often can\nthe Christian man by some almost unobserved remark correct\nunseasonable levity, rebuke unhallowed conversation, and lead the\nminds of the company to nobler thoughts. The timely word is better\nthan the best sermon in such a case.\n\nThe use of the tongue in _Reproof_ is frequently referred to in these\nproverbs. \"A wise reprover upon an obedient ear\" is compared to \"an\nearring of gold, an ornament of fine gold.\"[348] And rebuke is, as we\nhave seen, preferred before flattery.[349] But how wise we must be\nbefore our tongue can fitly discharge this function! How humble must\nthe heart be before it can instruct the tongue to speak at once with\nfirmness and tenderness, without a touch of the Pharisee in its tone,\nto the erring brother or the offending stranger! A rebuke which\nsprings not from love but from vanity, not from self-forgetfulness but\nfrom self-righteousness, will not be like an earring of gold, but\nrather like an ornament of miserable tinsel chafing the ear, the cause\nof gangrene, a disfigurement as well as an injury. But if we live in\nclose communion with Christ, and daily receive His stern but tender\nrebukes into our own souls, it is possible that we may be employed by\nHim to deliver timely rebukes to our fellow-men.\n\nThere are two other noble uses of the tongue to which reference is\nconstantly made in our book; the _Instruction of the ignorant_, and\nthe _Championship of the distressed_. With regard to the first, we are\ntold that \"the lips of the wise disperse knowledge,\" while of course\nthe heart of the foolish not being right cannot possibly impart\nrightness to others.[350] It is only the wise in heart that can claim\nthe title of prudent, but where that wisdom is \"the sweetness of the\nlips increaseth learning.\"[351] \"The heart of the wise instructeth his\nmouth and addeth learning to his lips.\"[352] The lips of knowledge\nare compared to a precious vessel which is more valuable than gold or\nrubies.[353] To teach well requires earnest preparation, \"the heart of\nthe righteous studieth to answer.\"[354] But when the right answer to\nthe pupil is discovered and given it is beautifully compared to a kiss\non the lips.[355]\n\nBut never is the tongue more divinely employed than in using its\nknowledge or its pleadings to deliver those who are in danger or\ndistress. \"Through knowledge the righteous may often be\ndelivered.\"[356] The mouth of the upright will deliver those against\nwhom the wicked are plotting.[357] It is a great prerogative of wise\nlips that they are able to preserve not themselves only but\nothers.[358] The true and faithful witness delivers souls.[359] It is\nthis which gives to power its one great attraction for the good man.\nThe ruler, the judge, the person of social consideration or of large\nmeans is in the enviable position of being able to \"open his mouth for\nthe dumb, in the cause of all such as are left desolate, to judge\nrightly and minister judgment to the poor and needy.\"[360]\n\nThe Press--that great fourth estate--which represents for us the more\nextended use of the tongue in modern times, illustrates in the most\nvivid way the service which can be rendered where speech is fit, and\nalso the injury that can be done where it is rash, imprudent,\ndishonest, interested, or unjust.\n\nAfter thus reviewing some of the good uses of the tongue, and\nobserving how they depend on the state of the heart,[361] we cannot\nhelp again laying stress on the need of a wise self-control in all\nthat we say. He that refraineth his lips doeth wisely. A man of\nunderstanding holdeth his peace.[362] \"He that spareth his words hath\nknowledge.\"[363] \"Even a fool when he holdeth his peace is counted\nwise, when he shutteth his lips he is prudent.\"[364] If only the\nuninstructed and foolish person has sense enough to perceive that\nwisdom is too high for him he will not open his mouth in the\ngate,[365] and so in listening he may learn. \"Of thine unspoken word\nthou art master,\" says an Indian proverb, \"but thy spoken word is\nmaster of thee.\" We are to be swift to hear, but slow to speak: we are\nto ponder all that we hear, for it is only the simple that believes\nevery word, the prudent man looks well to his going.[366] As St. James\nsays, summing up all the teaching that we have reviewed, \"If any man\nthinketh himself to be religious, while he bridleth not his tongue,\nbut deceiveth his heart, this man's religion is vain.\"[367]\n\nAnd now there is only one other point to be noticed, but it is one of\nvast importance. As we realize the immense power of the tongue and the\ngreat issues which depend on its right or wrong employment; as we sum\nup all the evil which its tiny unobserved movements can accomplish,\nand all the rich blessings which it is, under right supervision,\ncapable of producing; and as from personal experience we recognise how\ndifficult it is to bridle the unruly member, how difficult it is to\ncheck the double fountain so that it shall send forth sweet waters\nonly, and no bitter, we may be awed into an almost absolute silence,\nand be inclined to put away the talent of speech which our Lord has\ngiven to us, not daring to use it lest in using we should abuse it.\nBut here is the answer to our misgiving: the plans and preparations of\nour hearts belong to us, but the answer of the tongue is from the\nLord.[368] This most uncontrollable organ of the body can be put under\nour Lord's control. He is able to give us \"a mouth and wisdom,\" and to\nmake our words not our own but the utterance of His Holy Spirit. There\nmay be \"an ocean round our words which overflows and drowns them,\" the\nencircling influences of God, turning even our faultiest speech to\ngood account, neutralising all our falterings and blunderings, and\nsilencing our follies and perversities.\n\nShall we not put our lips under our Lord's control, that the answer of\nour tongue may be from Him? While we seek daily to subject our hearts\nto Him, shall we not in a peculiar and a direct manner subject our\ntongues, to Him? for while a subjected heart may keep the mouth from\nspeaking evil, if the tongue is to speak well and to be employed for\nall its noble uses it must be immediately moved by God, our lips must\nbe touched with a coal from the altar, our speech must be chastened\nand purified, inspired and impelled, by Him.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[280] Prov. xxv. 15.\n\n[281] Prov. xiii. 2.\n\n[282] Prov. xviii. 20.\n\n[283] Prov. xviii. 21.\n\n[284] Prov. x. 14.\n\n[285] Prov. xii. 18.\n\n[286] Prov. xviii. 6, 7.\n\n[287] Prov. xii. 13.\n\n[288] Prov. xiv. 3.\n\n[289] Prov. xv. 23.\n\n[290] Prov. xxi. 23.\n\n[291] Prov. xxi. 28.\n\n[292] Prov. xvii. 20.\n\n[293] Prov. xviii. 4.\n\n[294] Prov. xxii. 11.\n\n[295] Prov. xxii. 18.\n\n[296] Prov. xix. 1, 22.\n\n[297] Prov. xxiii. 16.\n\n[298] Prov. xii. 16.\n\n[299] Prov. xxix. 11.\n\n[300] Prov. xix. 7. All the Proverbs in this selection are in the form\nof a distich. This affords a fair presumption that this verse with its\nthree clauses is mutilated; and the presumption is confirmed by the\nfact that the third clause adds nothing of value, even if it be\nintelligible at all, to the sense. There is good reason, therefore,\nfor believing that this third clause is the half of a distich which\nhas not been preserved in its integrity; all the more because the LXX.\nhave a complete proverb which runs thus: \u1f41 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03af\u03b1\u03bd, \u1f43\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f10\u03c1\u03b5\u03b8\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c3\u03c9\u03b8\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9. \"He that does\nmuch evil is a craftsman of iniquity, and he that uses provoking words\nshall not escape.\" Perhaps in the Hebrew text which was before the\nGreek translators \u05de\u05b0\u05e0\u05b7\u05d3\u05b5\u05bc\u05e3 appeared instead of \u05de\u05b0\u05e8\u05b7\u05d3\u05b5\u05bc\u05e3, and \u05d4\u05b8\u05d9\u05b8\u05d4 \u05dc\u05b9\u05d0\ninstead of \u05dc\u05b9\u05d0\u05be\u05d4\u05b5\u05de\u05b8\u05bc\u05d4.\n\n[301] Prov. xxvi. 21.\n\n[302] Prov. xxx. 32, 33.\n\n[303] Prov. xii. 18.\n\n[304] Prov. xii. 17.\n\n[305] Prov. xix. 28.\n\n[306] Prov. xix. 5, rep. ver. 9.\n\n[307] Prov. xxi. 28.\n\n[308] Prov. xxv. 18.\n\n[309] Prov. xxvi. 23-28.\n\n[310] Prov. xiii. 5.\n\n[311] Prov. xii. 19.\n\n[312] Prov. xii. 22.\n\n[313] Prov. xx. 17.\n\n[314] Prov. xxvi. 2.\n\n[315] Prov. xxviii. 23.\n\n[316] Prov. xxix. 5.\n\n[317] Prov. xi. 13 and xx. 19; xxv. 2, 23. _Cf._ \"Whoso discovereth\nsecrets loseth his credit and shall never find friend to his mind\"\n(Eccles. xxvii. 16).\n\n[318] Prov. xviii. 8, rep. xxvi. 22.\n\n[319] Prov. xvi. 28.\n\n[320] Prov. xxvi. 20.\n\n[321] Prov. xvii. 9.\n\n[322] Prov. xi. 9.\n\n[323] Prov. xii. 6.\n\n[324] Prov. xv. 28.\n\n[325] Prov. xvi. 28.\n\n[326] Prov. xxvi. 18, 19.\n\n[327] Prov. xviii. 13.\n\n[328] Prov. xxix. 20.\n\n[329] Prov. xxiii. 9.\n\n[330] Prov. x. 19.\n\n[331] Prov. xiii. 3, 16.\n\n[332] Prov. xiv. 23.\n\n[333] Prov. xiv. 33.\n\n[334] Prov. xiv. 7. There is a quaint and pertinent passage in Lyly's\nEuphues:--\"We may see the cunning and curious work of Nature, which\nhath barred and hedged nothing in so strongly as the tongue, with two\nrowes of teeth, and therewith two lips, besides she hath placed it\nfarre from the heart, that it should not utter that which the heart\nhad conceived; this also should cause us to be silent, seeinge those\nthat use much talke, though they speake truly, are never beleeved.\"\n\n[335] Prov. xv. 2.\n\n[336] Prov. xviii. 2.\n\n[337] Prov. xii. 18.\n\n[338] Eccl. x. 4.\n\n[339] Prov. xv. 4. \u05de\u05b7\u05e8\u05b0\u05e4\u05b5\u05bc\u05d0 is best rendered here and in Eccl. x. 4 by\n\"gentleness.\" It is just that quality of humility and submission and\ntranquillity which our Lord blessed as meekness.\n\n[340] Prov. xv. 1.\n\n[341] Prov. xv. 26.\n\n[342] Prov. xvi. 24.\n\n[343] Prov. xii. 25.\n\n[344] Prov. xv. 23.\n\n[345] Prov. xxv. 20.\n\n[346] Prov. xxv. 11.\n\n[347] _Cf._ Eccles. xx. 20: \"A wise sentence shall be rejected when it\ncometh out of a fool's mouth, for he will not speak it in due season.\"\n\n[348] Prov. xxv. 12.\n\n[349] Prov. xxviii. 23.\n\n[350] Prov. xv. 7.\n\n[351] Prov. xvi. 21.\n\n[352] Prov. xvi. 23.\n\n[353] Prov. xx. 15.\n\n[354] Prov. xv. 28.\n\n[355] Prov. xxiv. 26.\n\n[356] Prov. xi. 9.\n\n[357] Prov. xii. 6.\n\n[358] Prov. xiv. 3.\n\n[359] Prov. xiv. 5, 25.\n\n[360] Prov. xxxi. 8, 9.\n\n[361] Note the intimate connection between conduct and speech in such\na proverb as xvii. 4. When we do evil we are always ready to listen to\nevil talk, when we talk deceitfully we are preparing to go on to worse\ndeeds of evil, to listen to tongues of destruction. Note, too, how in\nxii. 5 the thoughts and the counsels of the heart come before the\nwords and the mouth in v. 6.\n\n[362] Prov. xi. 12.\n\n[363] Prov. xvii. 27.\n\n[364] Prov. xvii. 28. _Cf._ the old Norse proverb:--\n\n \"An unwise man when he comes among the people\n Had best be silent: no one knows\n That he nothing knows unless he talks too much.\"\n\n[365] Prov. xxiv. 7.\n\n[366] Prov. xiv. 15.\n\n[367] James i. 26.\n\n[368] Prov. xvi. 1.\n\n\n\n\n XIII.\n\n _PRIDE AND HUMILITY._\n\n \"A wise son heareth his father's instruction, but a scorner\n heareth not rebuke.\"--PROV. xiii. 1.\n\n \"Poverty and shame shall be to him that refuseth correction, but\n he that regardeth reproof shall be honoured.\"--PROV. xiii. 18.\n\n \"By pride cometh only contention, but with the well advised is\n wisdom.\"--PROV. xiii. 10.\n\n \"Whoso despiseth the word bringeth destruction on himself; but he\n that feareth the commandment shall be rewarded.\"--PROV. xiii. 13.\n\n This last proverb appears in another form, as, \"He that giveth\n heed unto the word shall find good, and whoso trusteth in the Lord\n happy is he.\"--PROV. xvi. 20.\n\n\nBy a proud man we mean one who esteems himself better than others; by\na humble man we mean one who counts others better than himself. The\nproud man is so convinced of his intrinsic superiority that if\nappearances are against him, if others obtain more recognition,\nhonour, wealth than he, the fault seems to him to lie in the evil\nconstitution of the world, which cannot recognize merit; for his own\nintrinsic superiority is the axiom which is always to be taken for\ngranted; \"his neighbours therefore find no favour in his eyes, and he\neven desires their calamity and ruin,\" in order, as he would put it,\nthat every one may be set in his due place.[369] Meanwhile he is\nalways boasting of possessions, dignities, and gifts which do not\nyet, but some day will, appear to the public eye. He is like clouds\nwhich overcast the sky, and wind which frets the earth, without\nbringing any wholesome rain.[370] If, on the other hand, appearances\nare with him, if wealth, dignity, and honour fall to his share, he is\naffably convinced of his own supreme excellence; the proof of his own\nconviction is written large in his broad acres, his swelling\ndividends, and his ever-increasing troops of flatterers and friends;\nand he moves smoothly on to--what?--strange to say, little as he\nthinks it, to destruction, for \"Pride goeth before destruction, and a\nhaughty spirit before a fall.\"[371] If he only knew he would say,\n\"Better is it to be of a lowly spirit with the meek than to divide the\nspoil with the proud;\"[371] for \"before destruction the heart of man\nis haughty, and before honour goeth humility.\"[372] The event shows,\nif not in this world, yet the more surely in the next, that it is well\nto \"let another man praise thee, and not thine own mouth; a stranger,\nand not thine own lips.\"[373]\n\nWhen our eyes are open to see things as they are, we are no longer in\nthe least impressed by the \"proud and haughty man whose name is\nscorner working in the arrogance of pride.\"[374] We may not live to\nsee it, but we are quite persuaded that \"a man's pride shall bring him\nlow, but he that is of a lowly spirit shall obtain honour.\"[375]\n\"Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit? There is more hope of a\nfool than of him.\"[376]\n\nNow what are the evil effects of pride, and what are the blessings\nthat follow on humility?\n\n_First of all_, pride cuts a man off from all the salutary effects of\nreproof, rebuke, criticism, and counsel, without which it is not\npossible for any of us to become wise. \"A wise son\" is the result of \"a\nfather's correction,\" says the text, and such a son makes his father\nglad;[377] but the pride in a child's heart will often prevent him from\nreceiving even the correction of a father, and will lead him to despise\nhis mother. And if the parents have not firmness and wisdom enough to\novercome this childish resistance, it will grow with years, and prove\nmore and more disastrous. \"He is in the way of life that heedeth\ncorrection, but he that forsaketh reproof erreth.\"[378] If he had loved\nreproof he would have acquired knowledge, but hating it he becomes\nbrutish.[379] It is evident then that this pride is folly. He is a fool\nthat despises his father's correction, but he that regardeth reproof\ngetteth prudence.[380] He that refuseth correction despiseth his own\nsoul, but he that hearkeneth to reproof getteth understanding.[381]\n\nWhen we are grown up, and no longer under the tutelage of parents who\nlove us, pride is still more likely to harden our hearts against\ncriticism and counsel. The word of warning falls on the proud ear in\nvain, just because it is the word of warning, and often does the\nwilful heart mourn as it suffers the penalty of its stubbornness.[382]\nA man who refuses correction is a synonym for poverty and shame.[383]\nThese words which we in our pride despise might be an incalculable\nbenefit to us. Even the most witless criticism may be useful to a\nhumble mind, even the most unjust attacks may lead us to wholesome\nself-searching, and to a more careful removal of possible offences.\nWhile if the criticism is fair, and prompted by a kind heart, or if\nthe rebuke is administered by one whose wisdom and justice we respect,\nit is likely to do us far more good than praise and approval. \"A\nrebuke entereth deeper into one that hath understanding than a hundred\nstripes into a fool.\"[384] \"Better is open rebuke than love that is\nhid.\"[385] If we were wise we should value this plain and honest\nspeaking much more than the insipid flattery which is often dictated\nby interested motives.[386] In fact, praise is a very questionable\nbenefit; it is of no use at all unless we carefully test it, and try\nit, and accept it with the greatest caution, for only a small part of\nit is pure metal, most of it is mere dross;[387] and praise that is\nnot deserved is the most dangerous and deleterious of delights. But\nrebuke and criticism cannot do us much harm. Many great and noble men\nhave been ruined by admiration and popularity, who might have\nthriven, growing greater and nobler, in the fiercest and most\nrelentless criticism. Donatello, the great Florentine sculptor, went\nat one time of his life to Padua, where he was received with the\nutmost enthusiasm, and loaded with approbation and honours. But soon\nhe declared his intention of returning to Florence, on the ground that\nthe sharp assaults and the cutting criticisms which always assailed\nhim in his native city were much more favourable to his art than the\natmosphere of admiration and eulogy. In this way he thought that he\nwould be stimulated to greater efforts, and ultimately attain to a\nsurer reputation. In the same spirit the greatest of modern art\ncritics has told us how valuable to him were the criticisms which his\nhumble Italian servant made on his drawings. Certainly, \"with those\nwho allow themselves to be advised is wisdom.\"[388] \"He that trusteth\nin his own heart,\" and cannot receive the advice of others, \"is a\nfool; but whoso walketh wisely he shall be delivered,\" sometimes\nperhaps by the humble suggestions of very simple people.[389]\n\nYes, \"with the lowly is wisdom:\"[390] they \"hearken to counsel,\"[391]\nand in doing so they get the advantage of many other wits, while the\nproud man is confined strictly to his own, and however great his\ncapacity may be, it is hardly probable that he will sum up all human\nwisdom in himself. The lowly gives heed to the word, no matter who\nspeaks it, and finds good;[392] he abides among the wise, because he is\nalways ready to learn; consequently, he becomes wise, and eventually he\ngets the honour which he deserves.[393] It is in this way that people\nof lowly station and very moderate abilities often come to the front. \"A\nservant that deals wisely has rule over a son that causes shame, and has\npart in the inheritance among the brethren.\"[394] To a crafty son no\ngood shall be, but to a servant who is wise his actions shall prosper\nand his way be made straight.[395] The consciousness of not being\nclever, and a wise diffidence in our own judgment, will often make us\nvery thankful to learn from others and save us from the follies of\nwilfulness; and thus very much to their own astonishment the humble find\nthat they have outdistanced their more brilliant competitors in the\nrace, and, walking in their humility, unexpectedly light upon\nrecognition and admiration, honour and love.\n\nThis first point, then, becomes very clear in the light of experience.\nOne of the most injurious effects of Pride is to cut off its miserable\nvictim from all the vast help and service which rebuke and criticism\ncan render to the humble. One of the sweetest results of a genuine\nhumility is that it brings us to the feet of all wise teachers; it\nmultiplies lessons for us in all the objects which surround us; it\nenables us to learn even from those who seem to be too captious to\nteach, or too malevolent to be even wise. The humble mind has all the\nwisdom of the ages as its possession, and all the folly of fools as an\ninvaluable warning.\n\n_Secondly_, by pride comes nothing but strife,[396] and he loveth\ntransgression that loveth strife; he that raiseth high his gate,\n_i.e._, builds a lofty house, seeketh destruction.[397] It is the\npride of monarchs and nations which produces war; the sense of\npersonal dignity which is always sudden and quick in quarrel; the\nfeeling of swollen self-importance which is afraid to make peace lest\nit should suffer in the eyes of men. And in the affairs of private\nlife our pride, rather than our sense of right, usually creates,\nfosters, and embitters divisions, alienations, and quarrels. \"I am\nperfectly innocent,\" says Pride; \"I bear no resentment, but it would\nbe absurd for me to make the first advances; when those advances are\nmade, I am willing to forgive and to forget.\" \"I think I am innocent,\"\nsays Humility, \"but then I may have been very provoking, and I may\nhave given offence without knowing it; in any case, I may as well make\nan offer of apology; if I fail, I fail.\"\n\nNor is this the only way in which strife grows out of pride, for \"by\npride comes _nothing but_ strife.\" All the foolish extravagances of\nsocial competition are to be traced to the same source. One man\n\"raises high his gate,\" builds a fine house, and furnishes it in the\nbest way. He flatters himself that his \"little place\" is tolerably\ncomfortable, and he speaks with some contemptuous pity of all his\nneighbours' houses. Immediately all his neighbours enviously strive to\nexcel him, and pride vies with pride, heartburnings are many and\nbitter. Then there comes on the scene one who in wealth and\nostentation of wealth exceeds them all, and the first man is now\nracked with envy, strains every nerve to outdo the insolent intruder,\nsuffers his debts to far exceed his assets, and soon incurs the\ninevitable crash. That is how pride works in one very obvious\ndepartment of social life. But it is the same in every other\ndepartment. Who can calculate the miseries which are produced by the\ngrotesque assumptions of poor mortals to be superior to their\nfellow-mortals? Parents will mar their children's lives by refusing\ntheir consent to marriages with those who, for some perfectly\nartificial reason, are held to be beneath them; or will still more\nfatally ruin their children's happiness by insisting on alliances with\nthose who are held to be above them. Those who prosper in the world\nwill heartlessly turn their backs on relations who have not prospered.\nMen who earn their living in one particular way, or in no particular\nway, will loftily contemn those who earn their living in another\nparticular way. Those who dress in the fashion will look in another\ndirection when they pass people who do not dress in the fashion,\nthough they may be under deep obligations to these slighted friends.\nThis is all the work of pride. Then there are the sneers, the taunts,\nthe sarcasms, the proud man's scorn, like \"a rod in the mouth\"\nindeed,[398] which falls with cutting cruelty on many tender backs and\ngentle faces. The overbearing temper of one who \"bears himself\ninsolently and is confident\"[399] will sometimes take all the\nsweetness out of life for some delicate woman, or shrinking child, or\nhumble dependent, bruising the poor spirit, rending the terrified\nheart, unnerving and paralysing the weaker and more helpless nature.\n\nFrom first to last this haughty spirit is a curse and a torment to\neveryone, and not least to itself. It is like a cold and biting wind.\nIt is like an erosive acid. It produces more sorrows than the north\nwind produces icicles. It mars more lives than anyone but God is able\nto count. It breaks the hearts of the humble, it excites the passions\nof the wrathful, it corrupts the conduct of the weak. It ruins\nchildren, it poisons social life, it inflames differences, and plunges\ngreat nations into war.\n\nIf it were permitted to enter heaven, it would turn heaven into hell, it\nwould range the hosts of heaven in envious cliques and mutually scornful\ncastes, it would make the meek spirit sigh for earth, where there was at\nleast the hope of death, and would turn the very presence and power of\nGod into a constant object of envy and an incentive to rebellion. It is\nobvious, then, that pride cannot enter heaven, and the proud man, if he\nis to enter, must humble himself as a little child.\n\n_Third_--and this leads us to contemplate the worst result of Pride\nand the loveliest outcome of Humility--\"Every one that is proud of\nheart is an abomination to the Lord; though hand join in hand he shall\nnot be unpunished.\"[400] \"The Lord will root up the house of the\nproud; but He will establish the border of the widow.\"[401] In a word,\nPride is hateful to God, who resists the proud and gives grace to the\nhumble. The proud man, whether he knows it or not, comes into direct\nconflict with God: he may not intend it, but he is pitting himself\nagainst the Omnipotent. That hardening of the face is a sign of evil,\njust as the patient humble ordering of the way is a sign of\nrighteousness.[402] In that high look and proud heart there seems to\nbe something dignified, flashing, and luminous; it is undoubtedly\nmuch admired by men. By God it is not admired; it is regarded merely\nas the lamp of the wicked, and as sin.[403] The light, such as it is,\ncomes from hell; it is the same light that burned on the faces of the\napostate angels \"o'erwhelmed with floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous\nfire.\" The proud man dares the thunderbolts of God. He scorns men whom\nhe sees, and in doing so he scorns God whom he has not seen; the men\nwhom he consciously scorns cannot, but the God whom he unwittingly\nscorns will, take vengeance upon him. He has hardened his heart, he\nhas grown great in his own eyes, he has despised the creatures made in\nGod's image; he will suddenly be cut off, and that without remedy.\n\nOn the other hand, by humility men learn to know and to fear the\nLord.[404] God reveals Himself to the humble heart, not as a King of\nTerrors, but kind and good, with healing in His wings, leading the\ncontrite spirit to implicit trust in Himself, and \"whoso trusteth in\nthe Lord, happy is he.\"[405] When we realize this we cannot wonder\nthat so few people seem to know God; men are too proud; they think of\nthemselves more highly than they ought to think, and consequently they\ndo not think at all of Him; they receive honour one of another, and\neagerly desire such honour, and consequently they cannot believe in\nHim, for to believe in Him implies the desire of no honour except such\nas comes from Him.\n\nIt is a strange truth that God should dwell in a human heart at all,\nbut it is almost self-evident that if He is to dwell in any human\nheart it must be in one which has been emptied of all pride, one which\nhas, as it were, thrown down all the barriers of self-importance, and\nlaid itself open to the incoming Spirit. If we cling to ever so little\nof our natural egotism; if we dwell on any imagined excellence,\npurity, or power of our own; if we are conscious of any elation, any\nspringing sense of merit, which would set us, in our own judgment, on\nsome equality with God,--how could the High and Lofty One that\ninhabiteth Eternity enter in? That thought of vanity would seek to\ndivide our nature with Him, would enter into negotiations for a joint\noccupation, and the insulted Spirit of God would depart.\n\nIf in ordinary human affairs \"before destruction the heart of man is\nhaughty, and before honour goeth humility;\"[406] if even in our\ndealings with one another happiness and success and prosperity depend\non the cultivation of a modest spirit, how much more when we come to\ndeal with God must haughtiness appear the presage of destruction, and\nhumility the only way of approach to Him!\n\nIt is not possible to think too humbly of yourself, it is not possible\nto be too lowly, you cannot abase yourself too much in His Holy\nPresence. Your only attitude is that of Moses when he took off his shoes\nbecause the place he stood on was holy ground; or that of Isaiah when he\ncried out that he was \"a man of unclean lips.\" To those who know you\nyour humiliations may sound excessive,--as we are told the disciples of\nSt. Francis remonstrated with him for his self-depreciation[407]--but\nnot to God or to your own heart. And He, if He has set His love upon\nyou, and purposes to make you a temple for His indwelling, will use\nmethod after method of humbling you to prepare for His entrance. Again\nand again you will say, Surely now I am low enough, am I not humbled in\nthe dust? But His hand will still be upon you, and He will show you\nheads of pride which have yet to be levelled down. In the last humbling\nyou will find that there is rising within you a certain pride in the\nhumility itself. That also will He subdue. And some day, if you are\nwilling, you shall be lowly enough for the Most High to dwell in, humble\nenough to offer a perpetual incense of praise.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[369] Prov. xxi. 10.\n\n[370] Prov. xxv. 14.\n\n[371] Prov. xvi. 18, 19.\n\n[372] Prov. xviii. 12.\n\n[373] Prov. xxvii. 2.\n\n[374] Prov. xxi. 24.\n\n[375] Prov. xxix. 23.\n\n[376] Prov. xxvi. 12.\n\n[377] Prov. xiii. 1; xv. 20.\n\n[378] Prov. x. 17.\n\n[379] Prov. xii. 1.\n\n[380] Prov. xv. 8.\n\n[381] Prov. xv. 32.\n\n[382] Prov. xiii. 13 should be translated: \"Whoso despiseth the word\n(_sc._ of warning and rebuke) shall be under a pledge to it (_i.e._ he\nhas contracted an obligation to the word by hearing it, and in case of\ndisobedience will have to redeem this implicit pledge by suffering and\nremorse), but he that feareth the commandment shall be rewarded.\"\n\n[383] Prov. xiii. 17.\n\n[384] Prov. xvii. 10.\n\n[385] Prov. xxvii. 5.\n\n[386] Prov. xxviii. 23.\n\n[387] Prov. xxvii. 21: \"The fining pot is for silver and the furnace for\ngold, and a man for the mouth of his praise.\" This somewhat obscure\naphorism is most simply explained thus:--A man should make his\nconscience a kind of furnace, in which he tries all the laudatory things\nwhich are said of him, accepting only the refined and pure metal which\nresults from such a test, and rejecting the dross. This is simpler than,\nwith Delitzsch, to explain, \"a man is tested by the praise which is\nbestowed upon him as silver and gold are tested in the fire.\"\n\n[388] Prov. xiii. 10.\n\n[389] Prov. xxviii. 26.\n\n[390] Prov. xi. 2.\n\n[391] Prov. xii. 15_b_.\n\n[392] Prov. xvi. 20.\n\n[393] Prov. xv. 31, 33.\n\n[394] Prov. xvii. 2.\n\n[395] This is an addition of the LXX. to xiii. 13, and may represent\nan original Hebrew text. For the idea cp. Eccles. x. 25, \"Unto the\nservant that is wise shall they that are free do service.\"\n\n[396] Prov. xiii. 10.\n\n[397] Prov. xvii. 19.\n\n[398] Prov. xiv. 3.\n\n[399] Prov. xiv. 16.\n\n[400] Prov. xvi. 5.\n\n[401] Prov. xv. 25.\n\n[402] Prov. xxi. 29.\n\n[403] Prov. xxi. 4.\n\n[404] Prov. xxii. 4. The probable rendering is, \"The outcome of\nhumility is the fear of the Lord, riches, honour, and life.\"\n\n[405] Prov. xvi. 20.\n\n[406] Prov. xviii. 12.\n\n[407] The answer of the saint was very characteristic. Could he really\nbelieve that he was so vile as he said, when he compared himself with\nothers who were obviously worse? \"Ah,\" he said, \"it is when I recount\nall God's exceptional mercies to me that I seem to myself the worst of\nmen, for others have not had such favours at His hands.\"\n\n\n\n\n XIV.\n\n _THE INWARD UNAPPROACHABLE LIFE._\n\n \"The heart knoweth its own bitterness, and a stranger doth not\n intermeddle with its joy.\"--PROV. xiv. 10.\n\n \"Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful, and the end of mirth is\n heaviness.\"--PROV. xiv. 13.\n\n \"Yes! in the sea of life enisled,\n With echoing straits between us thrown,\n Dotting the shoreless watery wild,\n We mortal millions live _alone_.\n The islands feel the enclasping flow,\n And then their endless bounds they know.\"\n MATTHEW ARNOLD.\n\n\nWe know each other's appearance, it is true, but there for the most part\nour mutual knowledge ceases. Some of us unveil nothing of ourselves to\nanyone; some of us unveil a little to all; some a good deal to a few;\nbut none of us can unveil all even to the most intimate friend. It is\npossible to live on terms of complete confidence and even close intimacy\nwith a person for many years, to become thoroughly acquainted with his\nhabits, his turns of expression, his modes of thought, to be able to say\nwith a certain infallibility what course he will take in such and such\ncircumstances--and yet to find by some chance uplifting of a curtain in\nhis life that he cherished feelings which you never even suspected,\nsuffered pains of which you had seen no trace, and enjoyed pleasures\nwhich never came to any outward expression.\n\nHow true this is we realize at once if we turn inwards and review all\nthe thoughts which chase each other through our brain, and all the\nemotions which throb in our heart for a single day, and then deduct\nthose which are known to any human being, known or even suspected; the\nsum total we find is hardly affected at all. We are quite startled to\ndiscover how absolutely alone we live, how impossible it is for a\nstranger, or even for an intimate friend, to meddle with more than a\nfragment of our inner life. This is not because we have any wish to\nconceal, but rather because we are not able to reveal, our silent\nunseen selves; it is not because others would not like to know, but\nbecause they have not the instruments to investigate, that within us\nwhich we on our part are quite helpless to express.\n\nFor instance, \"the desire accomplished is sweet to the soul,\"[408] yet\nno one can know how sweet but he who cherished the desire. When a man\nhas laboured for many years to secure an adequate maintenance for his\nfamily, and at length finds himself in easy circumstances, with his\nchildren growing up around him well and happy, no one besides himself\ncan in the least gauge the sense of satisfaction, contentment, and\ngratitude which animates his heart, because no one can realize without\nactual experience the long and anxious days, the sickening fears, the\nblighted hopes, the rigorous sacrifices, through which he passed to\nattain his end. Or, when an artist has been toiling for many years to\nrealize upon canvas a vision of beauty which floats before the inward\neye, and at last succeeds, by some happy combination of colours, or by\nsome dexterous sweep of the brush, or by some half-inspired harmony of\nform and composition, in actually bodying forth to the senses that\nwhich has haunted his imagination, it is hopeless for any one else to\nunderstand the thrilling joy, the light-hearted ecstasy, which are\nhidden rather than expressed by the quiet flush on the cheek and the\nsparkling glance of the eye.\n\nThe mystical joy of a love which has just won an answering love; the\ndeep-toned joy of the mother in the dawning life of her child; the joy\nof the poet who feels all the beauty of the earth and the sky pulsing\nthrough his nerves and raising his heart to quick intuitions and\nmelodious numbers; the joy of the student, when the luminous outlines\nof truth begin to shape themselves before his mind in connected form\nand startling beauty; the joy of one who has toiled for the\nrestoration of lost souls, and sees the fallen and degraded awaking to\na new life, cleansed, radiant and strong; the joy of the martyr of\nhumanity, whose dying moments are lit with visions, and who hears\nthrough the mysterious silences of death the voices of those who will\none day call him blessed,--joys like these may be described in words,\nbut they who experience them know that the words are, relatively\nspeaking, meaningless, and they who do not experience them can form no\nconception of them. \"When the desire cometh it is a tree of\nlife,\"[409] which suddenly springs up in the garden of the heart, puts\nforth its jubilant leaves of healing, flashes with white wings of\nscented blossom, and droops with its full offering of golden fruit, as\nif by magic, and we are surprised ourselves that those around us do\nnot see the wonder, do not smell the perfume, do not taste the fruit:\nwe alone can sit under its branches, we alone can catch the murmur of\nthe wind, the music of achievement, in its leaves.\n\nBut this thought becomes very pathetic when we think of the heart's\nbitterness, which the heart alone can know,--the hope deferred which\nmakes it sick,[410] the broken spirit which dries up the bones,[411] the\nspirit which for so long bore a man's infirmity, and then at last broke\nbecause it could bear no more, and became itself intolerable.[412] The\ncircumstances of a man's life do not give us any clue to his sorrows;\nthe rich have troubles which to the poor would seem incredible, and the\npoor have troubles which their poverty does not explain. There are\nlittle constitutional ailments, defects in the blood, slight\ndeformities, unobserved disabilities, which fill the heart with a\nbitterness untold and unimaginable. There are crosses of the affections,\ndisappointments of the ambitions; there are frets of the family, worries\nof business; there are the haunting Furies of past indiscretions, the\npitiless reminders of half-forgotten pledges. There are weary doubts and\nmisgivings, suspicions and fears, which poison all inward peace, and\ntake light out of the eye and elasticity out of the step. These things\nthe heart knows, but no one else knows.\n\nWhat adds to the pathos is that these sorrows are often covered with\nlaughter as with a veil, and no one suspects that the end of all this\napparently spontaneous mirth is to be heaviness.[413] The bright talker,\nthe merry jester, the singer of the gay song, goes home when the party\nseparates, and on his threshold he meets the veiled sorrow of his life,\nand plunges into the chilly shadow in which his days are spent.\n\nThe bitterness which surges in our brother's heart would probably be\nunintelligible to us if he revealed it; but he will not reveal it, he\ncannot. He will tell us some of his troubles, many of them, but the\nbitterness he must keep to himself.\n\nHow strange it seems! Here are men and women around us who are\nunfathomable; the heart is a kind of infinite; we skim the surface, we\ncannot sound the depths. Here is a merry heart which makes a cheerful\ncountenance, but here is a countenance unclouded and smiling which\ncovers a spirit quite broken.[414] Here is a cheerful heart which enjoys\na continual feast,[415] and finds in its own merriment a medicine for\nits troubles;[416] but we cannot find the secret of the cheerfulness, or\ncatch the tone of the merriment, any more than we can comprehend what it\nis which is making all the days of the afflicted evil.[417]\n\nWe are confined as it were to the superficial effects, the lights and\nshadows which cross the face, and the feelings which express themselves\nin the tones of the voice. We can guess a little of what lies\nunderneath, but our guesses are as often wrong as right. The index is\ndisconnected, perhaps purposely, from the reality. Sometimes we know\nthat a heart is bitter, but do not even surmise the cause; more often\nit is bitter and we do not know it. We are veiled to one another; we\nknow our own troubles, we feel our own joys, that is all we can say.\n\nAnd yet the strangest thing of all is that we hunger for sympathy; we\nall want to see that light in the eyes of our friends which rejoices\nthe heart, and to hear those good things which make the bones\nfat.[418] Our joy is eager to disclose itself, and often shrinks back\nappalled to find that our companions did not understand it, but\nmistook it for an affectation or an illusion. Our sorrow yearns for\ncomprehension, and is constantly doubled in quantity and intensity by\nfinding that it cannot explain itself or become intelligible to\nothers. This rigid and necessary isolation of the human heart, along\nwith such a deep-rooted desire for sympathy, is one of the most\nperplexing paradoxes of our nature; and though we know well that it is\na fact, we are constantly re-discovering it with a fresh surprise.\nForgetting it, we assume that every one will know how we need\nsympathy, though we have never hung out the signals of distress, and\nhave even presented a most repellent front to all advances; forgetting\nit, we give expression to our joy, singing songs to heavy hearts, and\ndisturbing others by unseasonable mirth, as if no icy channels\nseparated us from our neighbours' hearts, making our gladness seem\nfrigid and our merriment discordant before it reaches their ears. Yes\nthe paradox forces itself on our attention again; human hearts are\nisolated, alone, without adequate communication, and essentially\nuncommunicative, yet all of them eagerly desiring to be understood,\nto be searched, to be fused. Is it a paradox which admits of any\nexplanation? Let us see.\n\nIt has been very truly said, \"Man is only partially understood, or\npitied, or loved by man; but for the fulness of these things he must go\nto some far-off country.\" In proportion as we are conscious of being\nmisunderstood, and of being quite unable to satisfy our longing for\nsympathy and comprehension at human fountains, we are impelled by a\nspiritual instinct to ask for God; the thought arises in us that He,\nthough He be very far off, must, as our Creator, understand us; and as\nthis thought takes possession of the heart a tremulous hope awakes that\nperhaps He is not very far off. There lie before us now some beautiful\nsayings which are partly the expression of this human conviction, and\nseem partly to be inspired by the Divine response to it. \"If thou\nsayest, Behold, we knew not this man; doth not He that weigheth the\nheart consider, and he that keepeth the soul, doth not He know?\"[419]\n\"The hearing ear, and the seeing eye, the Lord hath made even both of\nthem.\"[420] How obvious is the inference that the Maker of the ear and\nthe eye hears those silent things which escape the ear itself, and sees\nthose recesses of the human heart which the human eye is never able to\nsearch! \"The eyes of the Lord are in every place, keeping watch upon the\nevil and the good.\"[421] \"Sheol and Abaddon are before the Lord: how\nmuch more then the hearts of the children of men.\"[422] He sees in the\nheart what the heart itself does not see. \"All the ways of a man are\nclean in his own eyes, but the Lord weigheth the spirits.\"[423] In fact,\nthe spirit of man itself, the consciousness which clears into\nself-consciousness, and becomes in moral matters conscience, this\n\"spirit, is the lamp of the Lord, searching all the innermost parts of\nthe belly,\"[424] so that a \"man's goings are of the Lord;\" and he is\noften moved by this indwelling spirit and guided by this mysterious lamp\nin a way which \"he can hardly understand.\"[425]\n\nThis intimacy of knowledge is not without its most solemn, and even\nterrible, side. It means of course that the Lord knows \"the thoughts\nof the righteous which are just, and the counsels of the wicked which\nare deceit.\"[426] It means that out of His minute and infallible\nknowledge He will render to every man according to his works, judging\nwith faultless accuracy according to that \"desire of a man which is\nthe measure of his kindness,\" recognizing the \"wish of the poor man,\"\nwhich, though he has not power to perform it, is more valuable than\nthe boasted performances of those who never act up to their power of\nservice.[427] It means that \"the Lord trieth the hearts just as the\nfining pot tries the silver, and the furnace the gold.\"[428] It means\nthat in thought of such a searching eye, such a comprehensive\nunderstanding on the part of the Holy One, none of us can ever say, \"I\nhave made my heart clean, I am pure from my sin.\"[429]\n\nAll this it means, and there must be some terror in the thought; but\nthe terror, as we begin to understand, becomes our greatest comfort; for\nHe who thus understands us is the Holy One. Terrible would it be to be\nsearched and known in this minute way by one who was not holy, by one\nwho was morally indifferent, by one who took a curious interest in\nstudying the pathology of the conscience, or by one who had a malignant\ndelight in cherishing vices and rewarding evil thoughts. Though we\nsometimes desire human sympathy in our corrupt passions and unhallowed\ndesires, and are eager for our confederates in sin to understand our\npleasures and our pains,--and out of this desire, it may be observed,\ncomes much of our base literature, and all of our joining with a company\nto do evil,--yet after all we only desire this confederacy on the\nunderstanding that we can reveal as little, and conceal as much, as we\nlike; we should no longer be eager to share our feelings if we\nunderstood that in the first contact our whole heart would be laid bare,\nand all the intricacies of our mind would be explored. We must desire\nthat He who is to search us through and through should be holy, and even\nthough He be strict to mark iniquity, should be one who tries the heart\nin order to purify it. And when we are awakened and understand, we learn\nto rejoice exceedingly that He who comes with His lamp to search the\ninmost recesses of our nature is He who can by no means tolerate\niniquity, or pass over transgression, but must burn as a mighty fire\nwherever He finds the fuel of sin to burn.\n\nHave we not found a solution of the paradox? The human heart is\nisolated; it longs for sympathy, but cannot obtain it; it seems to\ndepend for its happiness on being comprehended, but no fellow-creature\ncan comprehend it; it knows its own bitterness, which no one else can\nknow; it broods over its own joys, but no one can share them. Then it\nmakes discovery of the truth that God can give it what it requires, that\nHe fully understands, that He can enter into all these silent thoughts\nand unobserved emotions, that He can offer an unfailing sympathy and a\nfaultless comprehension. In its need the lonely heart takes refuge in\nHim, and makes no murmur that His coming requires the searching, the\nchastisement, and the purging of sin.\n\nNo human being needs to be misunderstood or to suffer under the sense\nof misunderstanding. Let him turn at once to God. It is childish to\nmurmur against our fellows, who only treat us as we treat them; they\ndo not comprehend us, neither do we comprehend them; they do not give\nus, as we think, our due, neither do we give them theirs; but God\ncomprehends both them and us, and He gives to them and to us\naccurately what is due.\n\nNo human being is compelled to bear his bitterness alone, for though\nhe cannot tell it or explain to his fellows, he can tell it, and he\nneed not explain it, to God. Is the bitterness an outcome of sin, as\nmost of our bitterness is? Is it the bitterness of a wounded egotism,\nor of a remorseful conscience, or of spiritual despondency? Or is it\nthe bitterness which springs from the cravings of an unsatisfied\nheart, the thirst for self-completeness, the longing for a perfect\nlove? In either case God is perfectly able and willing to meet the\nneed. He delights to turn His knowledge of our nature to the purpose\nof cleansing and transforming the sinful heart: \"By His knowledge\nshall My righteous servant justify many,\" He says. He is ready, too,\nto shed abroad His own rich love in our hearts, leaving no room for\nthe hankering desire, and creating the peace of a complete fulfilment.\n\nNo human being need imagine that he is unappreciated; his fellow-men\nmay not want him, but God does. \"The Lord hath made every thing for\nHis own purpose, yea, even the wicked for the day of evil.\"[430] He\napprehends all that is good in your heart, and will not suffer a grain\nof pure gold to be lost; while He sees too every particle of evil, and\nwill not suffer it to continue. He knows where the will is set upon\nrighteousness, where the desire is turned towards Him, and will\ndelicately encourage the will, and bountifully satisfy the desire. He\nsees, too, when the will is hardened against Him, and the desire is\nset upon iniquity, and He is mercifully resolved to visit the corrupt\nwill and the evil desire with \"eternal destruction from the face of\nthe Lord, and from the glory of His might,\"--mercifully, I say, for no\ntorture could be more terrible and hopeless than for the evil man to\nlive eternally in the presence of God.\n\nFinally, no human being need be without a sharer of his joy: and that\nis a great consideration, for joy unshared quickly dies, and is from\nthe beginning haunted by a vague sense of a shadow that is falling\nupon it. In the heart of the Eternal dwells eternal joy. All\nloveliness, all sweetness, all goodness, all truth, are the objects of\nHis happy contemplation; therefore every really joyful heart has an\nimmediate sympathiser in God; and prayer is quite as much the means by\nwhich we share our gladness as the vehicle by which we convey our\nsorrows to the Divine heart. Is it not beautiful to think of all those\ntimid and retiring human spirits, who cherish sweet ecstasies, and\nfeel glowing exultations, and are frequently caught up in heavenly\nraptures, which the shy countenance and stammering tongue never could\nrecord? They feel their hearts melt with joy in the prospect of broad\nskies and sunlit fields, in the sound of morning birds and rushing\nstreams; they hear great choirs of happy spirits chanting perpetually\nin heaven and in earth, and on every side of their obscure way open\nvistas of inspired vision. No stranger meddles with their joy, or even\nknows of it. God is not a stranger; to Him they tell it all, with Him\nthey share it, and their joy is part of the joy of the Eternal.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[408] Prov. xiii. 19.\n\n[409] Prov. xiii. 12.\n\n[410] Prov. xiii. 12.\n\n[411] Prov. xvii. 22.\n\n[412] Prov. xviii. 14.\n\n[413] Prov. xiv. 13.\n\n[414] Prov. xv. 13.\n\n[415] Prov. xv. 15_b_.\n\n[416] Prov. xvii. 22.\n\n[417] Prov. xv. 15.\n\n[418] Prov. xv. 30.\n\n[419] Prov. xxiv. 12, marginal reading.\n\n[420] Prov. xx. 12.\n\n[421] Prov. xv. 3.\n\n[422] Prov. xv. 11.\n\n[423] Prov. xvi. 2, rep. xxi. 2.\n\n[424] Prov. xx. 27.\n\n[425] Prov. xx. 24.\n\n[426] Prov. xii. 5.\n\n[427] Prov. xix. 22.\n\n[428] Prov. xvii. 3.\n\n[429] Prov. xx. 9.\n\n[430] Prov. xvi. 4. This strange saying, interpreted in the light of\nthe Gospel, cannot mean that wicked people are actually made in order\nto exhibit the righteousness and judgment of God in their punishment\non the day of wrath, though that was probably the thought in the mind\nof the writer. But it reminds us of the truth that every human being\nis a direct concern of the Maker, who has His own wise purpose to\nfulfil in even the most inconsiderable and apparently abortive life.\n\n\n\n\n XV.\n\n _A PASSIONATE DISPOSITION._\n\n \"A soft answer turneth away wrath: but a grievous word stirreth up\n anger.\" In the LXX. there is another clause inserted at the\n beginning, \u1f48\u03c1\u03b3\u1f74 \u1f00\u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03af\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2, \u1f00\u03c0\u03cc\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03c0\u03af\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\n \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03ad\u03c6\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b8\u03c5\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd, \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bb\u03c5\u03c0\u03b7\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f10\u03b3\u03b5\u03af\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f40\u03c1\u03b3\u03ac\u03c2.\"--PROV. xv. 1.\n\n \"A meek tongue is a tree of life: but perverseness therein is a\n breaking of the spirit.\"--PROV. xv. 4.\n\n \"A wrathful man stirreth up contention: but he that is slow to\n anger appeaseth strife.\"--PROV. xv. 18.\n\n\nBad temper causes more suffering than the modified severity with which\nwe judge it would imply. It is in a home what toothache is in the\nbody: the pain is insufferable and yet it is not treated as serious. A\npassionate man or woman spreads a pervading sense of irritation in the\nhouse or in the workshop, and all the other occupants of the place are\nas if they dwelt in a country subject to earthquakes; life for them is\ndivided between anxiety to avoid the explosion and a painful effort to\nrepair its devastations. We are not severe enough on these faults of\ntemper in ourselves or in others; we are too prone to excuse them on\nthe ground of temperament, as if we were no more responsible for\noutbreaks of passion than for the colour of our hair or the tone of\nour complexion. It will, therefore, do us good to see what the Wise\nMan says on the subject.\n\nFirst of all, we have several proverbs which remind us how irritating\nan angry disposition is: it is the constant occasion of strife; it grows\nitself by each fresh annoyance that it gives, so that it quickly becomes\nungovernable, and thus \"the wrathful man aboundeth in\ntransgression.\"[431] A fierce ungovernable temper will set a whole city\nin a flame,[432] and lead to disasters of national and even world-wide\nextent. However peaceful and happy a community may be, if a choleric man\nenters it, signs of combustion will soon begin to appear. There are\nalways hot embers which wise men are earnestly trying to damp down,[432]\nthere are trivial irritations, petty annoyances, incipient envies, which\nare only too easily inflamed; the cool spirit and the conciliatory word\nand the ingenious diversion of thought will keep the embers choked until\nthe heat dies away, but \"as coals to hot embers, and wood to fire, so is\na contentious man to inflame strife.\"[433]\n\nWe may well be cautioned to give such an inflammatory character a wide\nberth; \"Make no friendship with a man that is given to anger; and with\na wrathful man thou shalt not go: lest thou learn his ways, and get a\nsnare to thy soul.\"[434] Even a sweet temper may be chafed into\npeevishness by constant irritations; with passionate people the\ngentlest become passionate in self-defence. When this unbridled,\nill-disciplined nature approaches, we should avoid it as if it were a\nbear robbed of her whelps, for such is this fool in his folly.[435]\n\nThis leads us to notice that anger and folly are very closely allied.\nThe passionate nature is constantly betrayed into actions which sober\nwisdom must condemn,--\"He that is soon angry will deal foolishly.... He\nthat is slow to anger is of great understanding: but he that is hasty of\nspirit exalteth folly.\"[436] Any one with a grain of sense will put a\ncheck upon his rising temper; his discretion makes him slow to anger,\nand he never feels to have won such true glory as when he bridles his\nwrath and passes by an offence without a sign of annoyance or\nresentment.[437] You may almost be sure that a man is wise if you find\nthat he has a cool spirit.[438] When you see a person who cautiously\navoids the ground where strife is apt to be excited, and builds his\nhouse on a spot where contention is impossible, you instinctively\nrespect him, for you know it betokens wisdom; but when you see a man\nalways getting involved in quarrels, always showing his teeth,[439] you\nrightly conclude that he is a fool.[440] \"A fool uttereth all his anger:\nbut a wise man keepeth it back and stilleth it.\"[441] If we are\nnaturally irritable or splenetic, wisdom will incline us to avoid\noccasions which excite us, and to keep a watchful guard over our spirits\nwhere the occasions are inevitable. If we neglect such precautions we\nshall justly be counted fools, and the consequent outbreaks of passion\nwill lead us into fresh exhibitions of folly, and more completely\njustify the harsh judgment which has been passed upon us.\n\nBut not the least sign of the folly which is inherent in passion is\nthe shocking effect which it has upon those who give way to it. As the\nLXX. version says at the beginning of this chapter, \"Anger destroys\neven the wise.\" And one whose spirit is without restraint is forcibly\ncompared to a city that is broken down and has no wall;[442] every foe\ncan go up and possess it, every thoughtless child can fling a\nfirebrand into it; the barest word, hint, smirk, shrug of the\nshoulders, any unintentional slight or reflection, nay, even silence\nitself, will suddenly set the powder-train on fire, and the consequent\nexplosion will be more destructive to the city itself than to those\nwho are outside. \"A man of great wrath shall bear the penalty,\" and,\npoor fellow, perhaps it is best that he should, for if you deliver him\nfrom the consequence of his passion, that will only encourage him in\nfurther outbreaks, and so he will become worse, and your deliverance\nwill be an endless task.[443]\n\nOur great King Henry II. was subject to fits of uncontrollable\npassion, in which he would roll on the floor and bite the dust,\nimpotent with rage; and all the sorrows of his life and reign, falling\nheavily upon him in his later years, were occasioned by this unhappy\ntemper. At the present time we are told that the Chinese frequently\nindulge in fits of passionate wrath, which react terribly upon their\nhealth and make them physically ill. The wrathful man does mischief to\nmany, but his wrath is like an old arquebus, which, when it is fired,\nhurts the bearer almost as much as the enemy. It may fail to hit the\nmark, but it is sure to knock down the marksman.\n\nProbably here the plea will be urged that we cannot help our temper,\nand it may be said, the suffering which it brings upon us is the best\nproof that it is an infirmity rather than a vice. Now this excuse\ncannot be allowed to pass; a certain good bishop on one occasion\nhearing it urged, in extenuation of a man's conduct, that he had such\nan unfortunate temper, exclaimed, \"Temper, why temper is nine-tenths\nof Christianity!\" If we are not to be blamed for bad temper, then\nthere is no fault or defect or vice which we cannot shift off our own\nshoulders and lay to the charge of our constitution. But our\nconstitution is no excuse for sin; the most that can be urged is that\nif we are constitutionally inclined to any particular sin we must seek\nfor a special strength to fortify us against it. If in building a city\nan ancient engineer had one side more exposed than the rest, protected\nby no natural escarpments of rock or bends of the river, there he\nwould concentrate all his skill to make the wall impregnable. If you\nfind that one of your bodily organs betrays a tendency to disease, you\nare careful to avoid the exposure, or the strain, or the derangement,\nwhich would unfavourably affect it. If your lungs are delicate you\nshun fogs and chills; if your heart is feeble you are careful to\navoid any sudden excitement; if your eyes are weak you notice very\nparticularly by what light you read, and are sensitive to the least\nweariness in those delicate instruments. In the same way, if your\nspecial infirmity lies in the temper; if you are easily provoked, or\napt to fall into sullenness; if a sudden annoyance excites an\nuncontrollable passion in your mind, or drops into your heart seeds of\nbitterness which rapidly grow and become ineradicable; you have your\nwork cut out for you; your daily task will be to avoid the things\nwhich produce such ill effects, and to cultivate the habits which\nlessen the virulent action of these irritant poisons. Few of us\nrealize how wonderfully our constitution is subjected to our own\ncontrol, and how much we ourselves have to do with the making of it.\n\nYou know, we will suppose, that you are easily entangled in a quarrel;\nyou must then prepare yourself before you go out into the business of\nthe day,--\"Go not forth hastily to strive, lest.... What wilt thou do\nin the end, when thy neighbour hath put thee to shame?\"[444] This\nrealization of what will probably result from your hasty temper will\nact as a check upon it, and you will be inclined, if you have any\nground of offence against your neighbour, to go quietly and debate it\nwith him alone.[445] Or if the contention has been sprung upon you\nunawares, take care that over the floodgates of your passion has been\nwritten this wholesome warning, \"The beginning of strife is as when\none letteth out water: therefore leave off contention, before there be\nany setting of the teeth.\"[446] Knowing your danger you must summon to\nyour aid all the heroism of your nature, and remember that this is\nthe time and the occasion to exercise it. Others have to win their\nspurs on the battlefield; this is your battlefield, and here your\nspurs are to be won. Others have to win kingdoms or capture cities;\nhere is the kingdom where you are to reign, this is the city which you\nare to take. \"He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and\nhe that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city.\"[447]\n\nGet at some grand root principle like this: \"Hatred stirreth up\nstrifes: but love covereth all transgressions.\"[448] Ah, yes, if you\nare disposed to be angry with men, fill your spirit with love to them;\nthat will soothe your irritable nerves, and will flow over their\ntransgressions so that they cease to annoy you because you cease to\nsee them; when we are fervent in love to one another, the love covers\na multitude of sins.[449] Where love comes into the soul we are more\nanxious to convert those who offend us than to be angry with\nthem.[450] Love saves us from the self-vaunting which exposes us to\nthe annoyances, and provokes the attacks, of the malignant;[451] and\nit enables us to bear all things, almost without a ruffle or a\nperturbation. Strange to say, passionate temperaments are often very\naffectionate; let them cultivate the love in themselves, and it will\nbe the destruction of the evil temper. And where the evil passion\ncomes from a true moroseness, then the fruit can only be destroyed\nwith the root, and the root can only be destroyed when love is shed\nabroad in the heart.\n\nOr possibly your anger is not of the passionate kind, but rather stern\nand resentful, arising from an exaggerated sense of self-importance. A\nmeek[452] heart is not wrathful, and it is the life of the flesh; but\nwhere meekness fails, envy enters as rottenness of the bones, and with\nenvy, hatred and malice.[453] A meek[452] tongue not only checks wrath\nin itself, but soothes it in others; it is a tree of life, just as\nperverseness in it is a breaking of the spirit.[454] If you thought less\nof yourself, you would not so frequently feel your dignity offended; you\nwould not require this weapon of wrath always at hand to leap forth and\navenge your outraged pride. From the meek heart vengeance dies away.\n\"Say not thou, I will recompense evil: wait on the Lord, and He shall\nsave thee.\"[455] You are sudden and quick in quarrel, because you think\nof yourself more highly than you ought to think; and because others do\nnot share your opinion of yourself, you must summon all your artillery\nof wrath to make them bend the stubborn knee and offer you the due\ntribute of deference or admiration. For if bad temper comes often from\nconstitutional infirmities which must be carefully watched and\ncontrolled, it comes just as frequently from that subtle enemy of our\nsouls, Pride.\n\nBut now we come to the important question, How are our evil passions\nto be cured? And we must frankly admit that our book has no\nsuggestions to offer. Its tendency is to regard our disposition as\nfixed, our temperament as irreversible, our character as\nunchangeable. It points out with crystalline clearness the mischief of\nwrath and the merit of meekness, but it never so much as entertains\nthe possibility that the wrathful man might become meek, the\npassionate man patient and gentle.\n\nWe have in our analysis of the evil observed that in order to avoid it\nwe must be vigilant to mark and control the first risings of passion;\nwe have noted too that if we were truly loving, anger would die away,\nand if we were truly humble, the resentments which stir our anger\nwould have nothing to feed upon. But the main difficulty is, how are\nwe to become watchful, since it is the special characteristic of a\nhasty temper that it overpowers our sentinels before it assaults the\ncity? And how are we to become loving and humble? It is only throwing\nthe difficulty back a step or two, and showing us how insuperable it\nis, to say that we must become good in one direction in order to\nescape the evil which lies in another direction. It does not help the\nEthiopian to become a European to tell him that Europeans have white\nskins instead of black; nor can a leopard change his kind because he\nlearns that his spots are his distinctive mark.\n\nThere must be a deeper message than that of the Proverbs to solve this\npractical difficulty; though we may well feel that the book is\ninvaluable in setting before us how greatly we need a deeper message.\nNo infirmity of human nature proves more forcibly than the one with\nwhich we are dealing that \"some thing out of Nature\" must come in if a\nchange is to be effected. \"We must be born again;\" it is only a\nregenerate heart which will have the impulse and the ability to watch\nagainst the eruption of a passionate disposition. It is only a\nregenerate heart which can love in such a way that irritations cease\nto fret, or that can be humble enough to escape the exasperations of\nwounded pride. Many of us think lightly of these particular faults,\nand scarcely designate ill-temper a sin at all; but however we may\nregard it, the wrathful disposition requires nothing less than Christ,\nand Him crucified, to cure it, and God deemed it worth while to send\nHis only-begotten Son in order to effect the cure. In Christ Jesus are\nforces, moral and spiritual, strong enough to control the most\nuncontrollable rage and to soothe the most irritable temper; and as we\ncan point to no other power which is sufficient for such a change, so\nfew things manifest so strikingly the blessed presence of Christ in\nthe heart as the softened and gentle temper, the removal of all those\nexplosive elements which before He entered were constantly causing\ntrouble and suffering and alarm.\n\nHere is an example taken from a country where the knowledge of the\nGospel is comparatively recent. A Japanese gentleman living at\nFujioka, who was much addicted to the use of _s\u00e1ke_, a strong\nintoxicant, which produced the worst results on his temper, was led\nthrough reading a tract on the subject to renounce the evil habit, and\nto accept Jesus Christ as his Saviour. In proportion as the Divine\npower mastered him he became a new creature. One day his wife had been\ncareless about some silkworms' eggs, which had become partially\ndestroyed, and she trembled with fear that he would become enraged\nwhen he discovered it, and punish her severely, as he had done before.\nBut to her great astonishment, when he found out what had happened he\nremained perfectly calm, and then said, \"We can distribute them among\nour poor neighbours, and so they will have a larger crop. Thus it will\nperhaps be better than if we had sold them and taken all the money\nourselves.\" His wife was so impressed with this change of character\nthat she said, \"This is the result of Christianity; I want to become a\nChristian too.\" She sought and found, and her whole family sought and\nfound. And not only so, but the neighbours were struck by this \"living\nepistle,\" and shortly afterwards when the missionary went to Fujioka\nthere were ten persons awaiting baptism. At the present time a good\nChristian Church is growing up in the place.[456]\n\nWhere the Lord Jesus Christ reigns evil passions subside and die away.\n\"Learn of Me: for I am meek and lowly of heart.\" \"Blessed are the\nmeek: for they shall inherit the earth.\" One who is born again, one\nwhose life is hidden with Christ in God, is necessarily meek, meek as\nthe Lord Himself: not, as we well know, devoid of noble anger or fiery\nindignation, for indeed it is only the meek heart from which all\npersonal pretensions have been eradicated, and to which no personal\nfeeling can be attributed, that is able to pour out vials of wrath,\nundeterred and unquenchable, upon all that is base and mean, impure\nand false, corrupt and cruel; but meek in this beautiful sense, that\nit never takes offence, never suspects evil, never resents any wrong\nexcept moral wrong that is done to others, or spiritual wrong done to\nGod. All the tinder on which angry passions feed has been removed by\nthe Cross of Christ, and therefore the only wrath which can be\nentertained is such wrath as God feels,--the deep intense glow of\nconsuming indignation against sin.\n\nFor our evil tempers, then, our passion, our wrath, our sullen pride,\nour fretful irritability, our outbreaks of sarcasm, our malignant\nsneers, there is only one possible cure; we must bring the heart, out\nof which all the evil comes, to Jesus Christ, that He may create it\nanew; we must accept our failures as evidence of an imperfect\nsurrender, and come afresh with a more insistent cry, and a more\nperfect faith, that He may reign in our hearts as undisputed Lord,\nchecking, subduing, warring down, every evil motion there.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[431] Prov. xxix. 22.\n\n[432] Prov. xxix. 8.\n\n[433] Prov. xxvi. 21.\n\n[434] Prov. xxii. 24.\n\n[435] Prov. xvii. 12.\n\n[436] Prov. xiv. 17, 29.\n\n[437] Prov. xix. 11. \"When Lanfranc was prior of Bec he ventured to\noppose Duke William's Flemish marriage. In a wild burst of wrath\nWilliam bade his men burn a manor house of Bec and drive out Lanfranc\nfrom Norman ground. He came to see the work done, and found Lanfranc\nhobbling on a lame horse towards the frontier. He angrily bad him\nhasten, and Lanfranc replied by a cool promise to go faster out of his\nland if he would give him a better steed. 'You are the first criminal\nthat ever asked gifts from his judge,' retorted William, but a burst\nof laughter told that the wrath had gone, and William and Lanfranc\ndrew together again.\"--Green's _Conquest of England_, p. 551.\n\n[438] Prov. xvii. 27.\n\n[439] This word \u05d4\u05b4\u05ea\u05b0\u05e0\u05b7\u05bc\u05dc\u05b8\u05bc\u05e2, which only occurs here (xx. 3) and in\nxvii. 14 and xviii. 1, would seem from the cognate root in Arab. and\nSyr. to mean \"setting the teeth together,\" which is a much more vivid\nand specific idea than quarrelling.\n\n[440] Prov. xx. 3.\n\n[441] Prov. xxix. 11.\n\n[442] Prov. xxv. 28.\n\n[443] Prov. xix. 19.\n\n[444] Prov. xxv. 8.\n\n[445] Prov. xxv. 9.\n\n[446] Prov. xvii. 14. _See_ note 4, p. 205.\n\n[447] Prov. xvi. 32.\n\n[448] Prov. x. 12.\n\n[449] 1 Peter iv. 8.\n\n[450] James v. 20.\n\n[451] 1 Cor. xiii. 4.\n\n[452] This meaning of \u05de\u05b7\u05e8\u05b0\u05e4\u05b6\u05bc\u05d0, as was observed in Lecture XII., p.\n172, seems to yield the best sense in these two passages (cp. xii. 18;\nxiii. 17), as in Eccl. x. 4, \"gentleness allayeth great offences,\"\nwhich is a good commentary on our text.\n\n[453] Prov. xiv. 30.\n\n[454] Prov. xv. 4.\n\n[455] Prov. xx. 22.\n\n[456] _Missionary Review of the World_, Feb. 1889, p. 143.\n\n\n\n\n XVI.\n\n _A JUST BALANCE._\n\n \"A just balance and scales are the Lord's: all the weights of the\n bag are His work.\"--PROV. xvi. 11.\n\n \"A false balance is an abomination to the Lord: but a just weight\n is His delight.\"--PROV. xi. 1.\n\n \"Divers weights, and divers measures, both of them alike are an\n abomination to the Lord.\"--PROV. xx. 10.\n\n \"Divers weights are an abomination to the Lord; and a false\n balance is not good.\"--PROV. xx. 23.\n\n\nThe sixteenth chapter opens--and we may annex to it the last verse of\nchap. xv.--with a series of sayings which are grouped together on the\nprinciple that the name of the Lord occurs in each. There is no\nobvious connection between the successive verses, and some of them\nhave been already touched on in previous lectures, but it will be\nworth while to glance at the series as a whole.\n\nThe Lord's presence must be recognised and reverenced before we can\nmake any progress in wisdom, and in His presence we must humble\nourselves before we can expect any honour.[457] We are entirely\ndependent upon Him; although our hearts may form plans, we cannot\nutter anything aright unless He controls our tongue.[458] However\nself-satisfied we may be with our own ways, however convinced we may\nbe of our own innocence, He weighs our spirit, and will often find a\nguilt which our conceit ignores, an impurity which our vanity would\nhide.[459] We should do well, therefore, to commit all our works to\nHim, in order that He may revise and correct our purposes and\nestablish those which are good.[460] We cannot think too much of His\nall-inclusive wisdom and knowledge; everything lies in His hands and\nis designed for His ends; even the wicked who rebel against Him--men\nlike Pharaoh, Nebuchadnezzar, Judas, Elymas--must in their inevitable\npunishment glorify His righteousness and truth.[461] For punishment is\nabsolutely sure; the proud are an abomination to Him, and though they\ncombine to oppose His will and to escape the penalty, it will be quite\nin vain.[462] On the other hand, where He sees mercy and truth He will\npurge iniquity, and when men fear Him they will depart from evil.[463]\nWhen His smile is upon them and He approves their ways, He will make\ntheir path plain, pacifying their enemies, and making their hearts\nglad.[464] He will guide them, even directing their steps, in such a\nmanner that their own imperfect counsels shall turn to a happy and\nsuccessful issue.[465] \"Whoso trusteth in the Lord, happy is he.\"[466]\nIndeed we cannot exaggerate the minute observation of the Lord; no\ndetail escapes His eye, no event is beyond His control; even what is\ngenerally called Chance is but another name for His unmarked and\nunknown direction; the very lot--that lot which settles contentions\nand separates the strong[467]--cast into the lap is actually disposed\nby Him;[468] much more, therefore, are the deliberate transactions of\ncommerce--those subtle bonds of the cash nexus which twine man to man\nand nation to nation--under His constant inspection and a subject of\nHis most interested concern,--\"a just balance and scales are the\nLord's: all the weights of the bag are His work.\"\n\nIt is, then, as part of the Lord's watchful activity and direct,\ndetailed connection with all the affairs of human life, that He is\ninterested in our business and trade. We may notice at once that this\nis very characteristic of the Old Testament religion. In the\nDeuteronomic Law it was written: \"Thou shalt not have in thy bag\ndivers weights, a great and a small. Thou shalt not have in thine\nhouse divers measures, a great and a small. A perfect and a just\nweight shalt thou have; a perfect and just measure shalt thou have:\nthat thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth\nthee. For all that do such things, even all that do unrighteously, are\nan abomination unto the Lord thy God.\"[469] Again, in the Levitical\nLaw we find: \"Ye shall do no unrighteousness in judgment, in\nmeteyard, in weight, or in measure. Just balances, just weights, a\njust ephah, and a just hin, shall ye have: I am the Lord your God,\nwhich brought you out of the land of Egypt.\"[470]\n\nThe Israelite was encouraged to think that all the work in which he\nengaged was ordained by, and therefore under the observation of, his\nGod. \"Hate not laborious work, neither husbandry which the Most High\nhath ordained,\" says Ecclesiasticus.[471] And there is a striking\npassage in Isaiah where the operations of agriculture are described in\ndetail, and all are attributed to God, who instructs the husbandman\naright and teaches him. It all comes from the \"Lord of hosts, which is\nwonderful in counsel, and excellent in wisdom.\"[472]\n\nBut at present we are concerned only with trade as a department of\nindustrial life, and especially with the actual chaffering of exchange,\nthe barter of goods for goods, the weights and measures which settle the\nquantities, and the rules which must govern all such transactions. We\nshould gather that the commercial fraud of those primitive times took\nthis comparatively simple form: the merchant would have, let us say, a\nhalf shekel which came a little short of the regulation weight; or he\nwould have a cubit measure (1 ft. 9 in.) half an inch under a cubit; or\nhe would have a vessel professing to hold a _hin_ (_i.e._ a little more\nthan a gallon), but actually holding a little less than a gallon; or he\nwould have a dry measure, marked as an _ephah_ (_i.e._ about three\npecks), but incapable of holding the ostensible quantity. In an ordinary\nway he would use these inadequate measures, and thus nibble a little\nfrom every article which he sold to a customer. But in the event of a\npurchaser presenting himself who had a fuller knowledge or might\nconceivably act as an inspector and report the fraud to the judge, there\nwould be a just half shekel weight in the bag, a full cubit rule hidden\nbehind the counter, a _hin_ or an _ephah_ measure of legal dimensions\nwithin easy reach. You may smile at such primitive methods of deception,\nbut it requires many generations for a civilized society to elaborate\ncommercial fraud on the large scale.\n\nNow passing at once to our own times and bringing the truth of our\ntext to illuminate them, I should like to say a little to people\nengaged in business, whether as employers or employed, whether the\nbusiness is wholesale or retail. And let me assure you that I am not\ngoing to attempt a detailed examination and criticism of your business\nconcerns. Such an attempt would be grossly impertinent, and might well\nexpose me, not only to your indignation, but to your ridicule. No, I\ndo not believe that it is the part of the preacher to meddle with\nmatters which he does not understand; he only discredits his message\nby affecting an omniscience which he cannot possibly possess. I have\nno doubt that the youth who has been in a warehouse or behind the\ncounter for six months already knows more of commercial habits, of\ntrade practices, of the temptations and difficulties which practically\npress upon people in business, than I know, or am likely to know if I\nlive to twice my present age. I shall not therefore insult you by\nattempting to point out evils and expose abuses, to denounce\nparticular frauds, and to hold up any special people or classes of\npeople to moral reprobation. My task is quite different; it is\nthis:--I am to remind you, first, that God possesses that omniscience\nto which I can lay no claim, and therefore is intimately acquainted\nwith all the transactions of your bank, your warehouse, your office,\nyour counter, your workshop; and, secondly, that He regards with\nintense satisfaction all fair dealing, and with vindictive indignation\nevery fraud, and trick, and lie. And on the strength of this I am to\nask you very earnestly to review your lives and your practices in the\nlight of His judgment, and to consider how you may bring all your\ndoings in business into conformity with His will.\n\nPerhaps you will let me, as a man speaking to his fellow-men, as a\nChristian, I hope, speaking to his fellow-Christians, expand these\nthree points a little.\n\n_First._ We are all of us tempted to think that a considerable\nproportion of our life is too insignificant to attract the particular\nattention of God. We can understand that He takes notice of our\nentrance into, and our exit from, the world, but we think that between\nthe two limits He leaves us to \"devise our own ways.\" Or possibly we\ncan recognise His interest in the crises of our life, but are inclined\nto question His minute care of the common and monotonous routine. He\nmarks what business we enter, but, when we are in it, lets us alone.\nHe is interested in our marriage, but, when we are married, leaves\nhusband and wife to adjust their own relations. Or He marks a large\nbusiness transaction in which there is room for a really gigantic\nfraud, but cannot pay any attention to a minute sale over the counter,\nthe trivial adulteration of a common article, the ingenious subterfuge\nfor disposing of a damaged or useless stock. Is not this our unspoken\nbut implicit mode of reasoning? And could anything be more illogical?\nThe Divine Power which could create this infinitely diversified\nuniverse must be able to mark every tiniest detail of the tiniest\nobject in it. Great and small are relative terms, and have no\nsignificance to Him. Naturalists tell us that in the scale of living\ncreatures, arranged according to size, the common beetle occupies the\nmiddle point, the smallest living creature being as much smaller as\nthe largest is larger than it. And yet the microscope, so far from\nshowing that God takes less care with the infinitesimal creations of\nHis hand, rather inclines us to say that the smaller the creature is,\nthe more delicate adjustment, the more exquisite proportions, the more\nbrilliant hues, does it display. Our Lord brought home to us this\nminuteness of the Divine Mind, this infinite power of embracing the\nveriest trifles of the creation in His thought and care, by assuring\nus that not a sparrow falls without His notice and that the hairs of\nour heads are all numbered.\n\nThere is then no logical resting-place, when we are thinking of the\nMind of God. If He knows us at all, He knows all about us. If He marks\nwhat we consider the important things in our life, He marks equally\nwhat we consider the unimportant things. The whole life, with every\ndetail from birth to death, is accurately photographed in the light of\nHis omniscience; and as the exposed plate of the camera receives many\ndetails which escape the observation of our eyes, so the smallest and\nleast observed transaction in the daily business, every figure entered\ntruly or falsely in the ledger, every coin dropped justly or\ndishonestly into the till, every bale, every packet, every thread,\nevery pin, which changes hands in the market, passes at once into the\nobservant and comprehending mind of God.[473]\n\n_Second._ But in this exhaustive and detailed knowledge of the way in\nwhich you are conducting your business, His warm approval follows\neverything that is honest and just, His vehement censure lights on all\nthat is dishonest or unjust. It may come as a great comfort to you to\nknow that a little business matter which cost you a considerable\nstruggle the other day was duly noted and recorded by the Lord. I was\nnot present at the time, nor did any one who was near you in the least\nsurmise what was passing. But you suddenly recognised the possibility\nof making a large profit by simply adopting a very slight subterfuge;\nwhat made the case peculiarly difficult was that neighbouring and\nrival firms to your certain knowledge did the like every day; the\ninnocent faces of wife and children at home seem to urge you, for what\na difference would this sum of money make to their comfort and welfare\nin the coming year! you weighed the little trick over and over again,\nand set it now in this light, now in that, until at last the black\nbegan to seem grey, and the grey almost white. After all, was it a\nsubterfuge? was it not merely a quite legitimate reserve, an even\nlaudable commercial prudence? And then, as you wavered, some clear\nlight of truth fell upon your mind; you saw distinctly what was the\nright course, and very quietly you took it; the prospect of gain was\nsurrendered, you saw the advantage pass over to your rival; he availed\nhimself of it, and went to church next Sunday just the same. Sometimes\nyou have wondered whether after all you were not too scrupulous.\n\nNow all _that_ God knows; it is His delight; He has recorded it\nalready in His Book, and also in your own moral nature, which is the\nstronger and the better for it.\n\nOn the other hand, it must be a subject of some concern to many that the\nsame all-observing, all-recording Mind regards with hatred all the sharp\npractices by which in business we deceive and defraud one another. I\nsuppose there is a way of making up books which would pass any\naccountant in London, and yet would not pass the audit of God. I suppose\nthere are gains which to the average commercial conscience of to-day\nappear fair enough, and yet to the One who weighs the spirits of men\nseem to be quite illicit. There must be men who made their money long\nago in certain ways best known to themselves, and are now living in\ngreat comfort; but all the time in the books of God a terrible record\nstands against them, and as the eye of God falls upon those pages, the\nmoan of the ruined, the cry of the fatherless and the widow, and the\nhorrified entreaties of the helpless come up into His ear.\n\nWe have no reason for thinking that the unjust balance has become any\nless abominable to the Lord because the eager and relentless\ncompetition of modern industrial life has multiplied, while it has\nrefined, the methods of fraud, and has created a condition of things\nin which, as so many people urge, questionable practices have become\nactually necessary for one who would keep his head above water. We\nhave no reason to think that God regards it as at all essential that\nany of us should keep his head above water. The warm and honourable\nreception given to Lazarus in heaven, when his head had gone under the\nwaters on earth, might lead us to think that what we call failures\nhere may possibly be regarded as grand successes there. But we have\nevery reason to think that double dealing, no matter what may be the\nplea, is abominable in the sight of the Lord.\n\nIt is in vain to point to the great prosperity which has fallen to the\nlot of some whose dishonourable practices have been notorious. It is\nbeyond a doubt that knavery may be successful in its way and a clever\nrogue may outdistance an honest dullard. The proverb \"Honesty is the\nbest policy\" is not, as some people seem to think, in the Bible;\nhonesty may or may not be the best policy, according to the object\nwhich you have in view. If your object is simply to amass wealth, the\nsaying will read, \"Honesty is the best policy; and where it is not, be\ndishonest.\" God does not judge in the least by worldly prosperity.\nFrom the parable just alluded to one would conclude that it is, in\nheaven, a certain presumption against a man; there may yet prove to be\ntruth in the hard saying, \"He that dies rich is damned.\" If God hates\nthese questionable practices which are said to exist in modern trade,\nand if He enters them all in His black books, they who prosper by\nemploying them are none the less failures: their ruin is sure; their\nremorse will be as inevitable as their recovery will be impossible.\n\n_Third._ I come therefore now to urge upon all of you that you should\norder all your business ways as in the sight of God, and concern\nyourselves chiefly with the thought how they may be in conformity with\nHis holy Will. Do not be content with estimating your conduct by the\njudgment which other men would pass upon it. While such an estimate\nmight reveal many things which would not pass muster, it is doubtful\nwhether their problematical censure will afford an adequate motive for\nreform, and it is sure to overlook many of the evils which they are\nbound to wink at, because their own hands are not clean. Do not be\ncontent even with estimating your conduct by the standard of your own\nunaided conscience. Your conscience may at any given time be in a\ndegraded state; in order to keep it quiet you may have brought it down\nto the level of your conduct. A thief's conscience seldom troubles him\nunless his theft is unsuccessful, in which case it reproaches him for\nnot being more careful and more skilful. You may, like St. Paul, know\nnothing against yourself and yet not be thereby justified. For\ndoubtless most of the evil practices of our time represent a\nconscience that has been stupefied with sophistry and deadened with\nselfishness, so that the worst culprits are the first to put on an air\nof injured innocence, and those who are least guilty suffer most just\nbecause the conscience is still sensitive and has not yet been seared\nwith the usual hot iron.\n\nNo, the only safe and effectual method is to bring all your business\nhabits, all the practices of the counter and the counting-house, under\nthe searching eye of the All-seeing One. Unless you realize that He\nsees and knows, and unless you humbly submit everything to His\njudgment, you are sure to go wrong; your standard will insensibly\nfall, and you will insensibly fall away even from the fallen standard.\nIt is said that peculiar difficulties beset you in the present day; it\nis said that it was never so hard to be straightforward and aboveboard\nin commercial dealings; it is said that the insane Moloch of\ncompetition imperatively demands the blood of our youth, and even\nmakes assaults on the established virtues of maturity. It may be so,\nthough we are generally inclined to exaggerate the peculiar\ntemptations of our own time in comparison with those of a former age;\nbut if it is so, then there is all the more urgent a necessity that\nyou should bring your affairs to God's judgment, seek diligently to\nunderstand His will, and then ask Him for a peculiar strength to\nenable you to overcome these peculiar temptations. You will not alter\nHis judgment of your conduct by attempting to ignore it. But by\nseeking to understand it, and by laying your heart open to be\ninfluenced by it, you will find that your conduct is perceptibly\naltered and apparent impossibilities are overcome, because \"by the\nfear of the Lord men depart from evil.\"[474]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[457] Prov. xv. 33.\n\n[458] Prov. xvi. 1.\n\n[459] Prov. xvi. 2.\n\n[460] Prov. xvi. 3.\n\n[461] Prov. xvi. 4. _See_ note, p. 201.\n\n[462] Prov. xvi. 5.\n\n[463] Prov. xvi. 6.\n\n[464] Prov. xvi. 7.\n\n[465] Prov. xvi. 9. _Cf._ Prov. xix. 21: \"There are many devices in a\nman's heart; but the counsel of the Lord, that shall stand.\"\n\n[466] Prov. xvi. 20.\n\n[467] Prov. xviii. 18. John Paton, the missionary to the New Hebrides,\nuncertain whether to go back to Scotland and plead for more\nmissionaries, and receiving no light from human counsel, says, \"After\nmany prayers and wrestlings and tears, I went alone before the Lord,\nand on my knees cast lots with a solemn appeal to God, and the answer\ncame 'Go home.' In my heart I believe that ... the Lord condescended\nto decide for me the path of duty, otherwise unknown; and I believe it\nthe more truly now, in view of the aftercome of thirty years of\nservice to Christ that flowed out of the steps then deliberately and\ndevoutly taken.\" See the _Autobiography_, Second Part (Hodder and\nStoughton, 1889).\n\n[468] Prov. xvi. 33.\n\n[469] Deut. xxv. 13-16.\n\n[470] Lev. xix. 33, 36.\n\n[471] Eccles. vii. 15.\n\n[472] Isa. xxviii. 23-29.\n\n[473] It seems impossible that a general and perfect morality in\nbusiness can ever be attained apart from this apprehension of an\nOmniscient Mind weighing and judging, as well as accurately observing,\neverything done even in secret. In medi\u00e6val Europe, when this faith\nwas practically unquestioned, there was a certain honesty and\nsincerity in handicrafts and in general dealing, until the Church made\nthe fatal blunder of granting indulgences for men's peccadilloes, and\nprofessing to exonerate them from the consequences of the truth which\nshe herself in theory held.\n\n[474] Prov. xvi. 6.\n\n\n\n\n XVII.\n\n _FRIENDSHIP._\n\n \"A friend loveth at all times, and as a brother is born for\n adversity.\"--PROV. xvii. 17. (This rendering, based upon the\n margin of the R.V., yields a much better sense than the loosely\n connected, \"And a brother is born for adversity.\")\n\n\nOne of the most striking contrasts between the ancient and the modern\nworld is in the place which is given to Friendship by moralists and\nreligious teachers. In Aristotle's famous treatise on Ethics two books\nout of nine are devoted to the moral bearings of Friendship, and these\nbooks form the climax of the work, and are the natural transition to the\nwork on Politics, or the science of the State. This central position\ngiven to the subject by the greatest and most systematic teacher of\nantiquity, compared with the very subordinate part which friendship\nplays in Christian ethics, is calculated to make us reflect and enquire.\nIs not the explanation probably this? Our Lord gave a great new\ncommandment to His disciples, that they should love one another; and\nthough Christian men have as yet but imperfectly understood what He\nmeant, or carried out what they have understood, an ideal was created\nwhich far transcended that lower relationship of antiquity. Greek\nfriendship was to be merged in Christian love. The meaning of such a\nchange will appear if we remember two characteristics of mere\nfriendship, on which Aristotle dwells. One is that it is necessarily\nbased upon selfishness; springing from a wish to realize oneself in the\nlife of another, fed by the benefit or pleasure derived from the mutual\nintercourse, it lies under the necessary limitation that we shall not\nwish for our friend a good which would remove him from us, or an\nimprovement which would raise him too far above us. For the second point\nis that friendship can only exist between equals, and the best\nfriendship is that between good men who stand upon the same level of\nvirtue. Christian love, on the other hand, springs from a complete\nabnegation of Self. It seeks nothing: it gives all. So far from laying\nstress upon the equality of conditions, it is never better pleased than\nwhen it can raise another to a position of excellence far surpassing its\nown, and instead of seeking its highest satisfaction in intercourse with\nits spiritual peers,--the good, the great, the saintly,--it attains its\napotheosis when it is allowed to embrace the weak, the sinful, the\nfallen, and to lavish all its Divine resources upon those who may never\nbe able to repay it even with gratitude.\n\nIt is obvious, then, that friendship is on a lower plane than\nChristian love, and it marks a great advance in ideal ethics when the\nlesser star pales in presence of the greater; but it may be urged with\ntruth that friendship still has its place in life, and deserves a more\ncareful attention than it receives. In the individual, as in the race,\nfriendship may be a prelude and a practice of the nobler and wider\nrelation. And there is this further reason for trying to understand\nthe nature of friendship, that it is more than once in the Bible used\nas a type and a figure of the relationship which may exist between the\nsoul and its God.\n\nWe will proceed then to examine some of the characteristics of\nfriendship referred to in the book of Proverbs.\n\nFriends, according to the original sense of the Hebrew word, are those\nwho delight in one another's companionship; either they are useful to\none another because each possesses gifts which the other has not, or\nthey are agreeable to one another because they have certain tastes in\ncommon. Thus there may of course be a friendship in evil, in vice, in\ndestructive practices; thieves may enter into a league to carry out\ntheir antisocial designs, and may be very true to one another; vicious\nmen may find a bond of friendship in the common indulgence of their\nvices; and in this way friendship, so called, may be a means of ruining\nthe friends. \"There are friends for mutual shattering,\" just as \"there\nis a lover that cleaves more than a brother.\"[475] There may also be an\ninterested comradeship which is entirely hypocritical; such a friendship\nis usually marked by a loud and ostentatious demonstration: \"He that\nblesseth his friend with a loud voice, rising early in the morning, it\nshall be counted a curse to him.\"[476] But, in the main, friendship\nimplies a certain amount of goodness; for it is in itself a virtue. The\nsuspicious, malignant nature of evil men speedily snaps the ties which\nbind them together for a time; and where honour exists among thieves it\naffords a strong presumption that the thieves are the product of a\nwrong social state, rather than of a naturally evil disposition.\n\nWe may then practically, in thinking of friendship, confine our\nattention to that which exists between well-meaning people, and tends on\nthe whole to bless, to strengthen, and to improve them. We may come to\nlook at some of the uses and the delights of friendship. \"As in water\nface answers to face, so in the heart man answers to man.\"[477] In the\nheart of our friend we see our own character reflected just as gazing\ninto a still pool we see the reflection of our own face. It is in the\nfrank and sympathetic intercourse of friendship that we really get to\nknow ourselves, and to realize what is in us. We unfold to one another,\nwe discover our similarities and mark our differences. Points which\nremained unobserved in our own hearts are immediately detected and\nunderstood when we see them also in our friends; faculties which\nremained unused are brought into play to supplement the discovered\ndefects in our friend's nature. We hardly guess what a fund of happy\nhumour is in us until we are encouraged to display it by observing how\nits flashes light up the face we love. Our capacities of sympathy and\ntenderness remain undeveloped until we wish eagerly to comfort our\nfriend in a sudden sorrow. In a true friendship we find that we are\nliving a life which is doubled in all its faculties of enjoyment and of\nservice;[478] we quite shudder to think what cold, apathetic,\nundeveloped creatures we should have been but for that genial touch\nwhich unfolded us, and warmed our hearts into genuine feeling while it\nbrought our minds into active play. This intellectual value of\nfriendship is brought out in the happy saying: \"Iron sharpeneth iron; so\na man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.\"[479] A friendless\nperson has a lack-lustre face; his talk has a dull edge; his emotions a\npoor and feeble flow. That delightful readiness of thought and\nexpression which makes all the charm of social intercourse, the easy\ntact which rubs off the angles and smooths all the relations of life,\nthe bright coruscations which seem like sunlight playing over summer\nseas, are usually the result of close and intimate communion with\ncongenial friends. Reading may make a learned man, and without hard\nstudy few people can accomplish much permanent good in the world, but\nreading does not necessarily make a really social man, one who brings\nhis fellow-creatures together in happy and helpful relationships; that\nbeautiful faculty is only acquired by the fostering and stimulating\ninfluences of heart companionships. When we have real friends, though\nthey be only a few, we diffuse a friendly feeling amongst others,\nwherever we go. Possibly also in the simile of the iron lies a reminder\nof the discipline which friendship gives to character, a discipline\nwhich is not always unaccompanied by pain. Friends \"rub each other's\nangles down,\" and sometimes the friction is a little distressing to both\nsides. The blades are sharpened, by a few imperceptible filings being\nground off each of their edges. The use of friendship depends very\nlargely on its frankness, just as its sweetness depends upon mutual\nconsideration. When the frankness hurts we have to remind ourselves of\nthe wholesome truth that the soft speaking is not always a token of\nlove, and the hard sayings of our friend may be uttered at a great\npersonal cost, for our good rather than his. \"Faithful are the wounds of\na friend: but the kisses of an enemy are profuse.\"[480]\n\nIf, however, friendship ripens through many years of kindly growth, or\nif a swift elective affinity forestalls at once the fruit of years,\nall the pain of mutual counsel and correction disappears, and may be\nchanged into a joy very sweet to the soul. \"Ointment and perfume\nrejoice the heart: so doth the sweetness of a man's friend that cometh\nof soul counsel.\"[481] It is a very beautiful condition of things\nwhich is referred to in this proverb. Two people have learnt\nthoroughly to understand one another, and have become in a certain\nsense one. Each recognises the service that the other renders, and\nwelcomes the advice or even the rebuke which is made possible by their\nrelationship. The interchange of affection is naturally sweet, but as\nsweet, or even sometimes sweeter, is the delicate aroma which arises\nwhen one sees a fault in the other, and with a tenderness begotten of\naffection, and a humility which trembles to presume, speaks gently but\nfrankly to his friend. Never do the eyes more eagerly respond to one\nanother, never is the hand-clasp so firm and hearty, as after such a\npassage between true friends.\n\nBut the decisive test and the most beautiful proof of real friendship\nwill be found in the day of adversity. A friend is never known till\nneeded.[482] When calamity falls upon us, false friends make excuses\nand go; lip-friends relapse into silence; but we begin then for the\nfirst time to find out who is a friend indeed. Then it appears that the\ntrue friend is entirely unchanged by the changed aspect of affairs; it\nseems as if he had been born into a brotherhood with us for this express\noccasion. There is no wish to cry off; he seems even to press the\nbrotherly tie in a way which we should not have presumed to expect, and\nthus he contrives to lighten the oppressive burden of obligation for the\nfavour that he confers on us, by making it appear that he was bound to\nact as he does by a necessity of kinship. This seems to be the meaning\nof our text. Such a friend, if he be near at hand and in constant\ncontact with us, is of more service than our own brother;[483] and when\nthrough his timely aid or effectual comfort we have come out of the\nfurnace, and our tears are dried, we say constantly to ourselves that we\ndoubt whether our own brother would have clung to us so faithfully,\nwould have borne with our querulous murmurs so patiently, or relieved\nour necessities so delicately and so liberally.[484]\n\nIf you have such a friend as this, your own or your father's, take\ncare to retain him; do not alienate him by negligence or a deficient\nconsideration. Put yourself out of the way to show that you appreciate\nand value him; do not allow a false reserve or a foolish shyness to\ncheck your expression of gratitude. A friendship is a delicate growth;\nand even when it has become robust, it can easily be blighted. The\nresults of years may be lost in a few days. And if a root of\nbitterness springs up, if a division occurs, it may be quite\nimpossible by every effort in your power to heal the breach or to\npluck up that obstinate root. \"A brother offended is harder to be won\nthan a strong city: and such contentions are like the bars of a\ncastle.\"[485] The closer the intimacy had been, the tenderer the\nfriendship, so much the sterner will be these bars, so much the more\ninexpugnable the castle. For it will be felt, if such protestations,\nsuch interchange of affection, such mutual delights, could have been\ndeceptive, mere hypocrisies or delusions, what hope can there be that\nthe same things broken and patched up again can be of any worth? A\ndifference with a chance acquaintance is easily removed; further\nknowledge may improve our opinion of one another, and even if we\nseparate we have no deep resentment. But a difference between true\nfriends may quickly become irreparable. They feel that there is no\nmore to know; they have seen the best and that has proved\ndisappointing. The resentment springs from a sense of abused\nconfidence and injured love.\n\nIf you have real friends then, take pains to keep them. Watch carefully\nfor the small beginnings of a rupture and hasten to heal it. Think no\neffort is wasted, and no apology or explanation is too humiliating,\nwhich may avert that great calamity,--the loss of a true soul-comrade;\none whom you have learnt to honour with the name and dignity of friend.\n\n \"The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,\"\n\nsays our wise poet,\n\n \"Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel.\"\n\n\nSuch a friendship as we have been considering, rare and beautiful as\nit is, forms a noble stepping-stone to the loftier relationship of\nChristian love. In tone and quality it is almost the same; it differs\nonly in its range and in its motive. What one man feels to another in\nan ideal friendship, the Christian is called upon, according to his\ncapacity and opportunity, to feel to man as man, to all his\nfellow-creatures. We cannot of course fulfil all the offices of\nfriendship to every one, and we are not as Christians required to\nabate one jot of our love to those who are our friends by affinity and\nby choice. But where the heart is truly Christian it will become more\nexpansive, and it will be conscious of the powerful claims which\nweakness, misery, solitude, or even moral failings, make upon its\nfriendship; it will shrink from the selfishness inherent in all\naffections which are merely selective and exclusive; it will earnestly\ndesire to feel an affection which is inclusive and quite unselfish.\nWhere is to be found the motive for such an enlarged spirit of\nfriendship? Whence is to come the impulse to such a self-surrender?\n\nSurely such a motive and such an impulse are to be discovered only in\nthat relation of friendship which God Himself deigns to sustain\ntowards the human soul. Jehoshaphat in his prayer appeals to God on\nthe ground that He had given the land to \"Abraham His friend for\never.\"[486] And we read of Moses that \"the Lord spake unto him face to\nface, as a man speaketh unto his friend.\"[487] But in this position of\none who is called the father of the faithful, and of one who was the\nleader of his people, we cannot but recognise a promise and a\nforeshadowing of a relation with God which was meant to become more\ngeneral. The whole tendency of the Gospel is to put every believer in\nour Lord Jesus Christ on a spiritual level with the most favoured and\nrichly endowed of a former dispensation. And since the Incarnate Son\nlived on earth, and called the simple peasants of Galilee to be, not\nHis servants, but His friends, if they did whatsoever He commanded\nthem,[488] we may without presumption--nay, we must if we would not\ngrieve Him by unbelief--accept the mysteriously dignified position of\nGod's friends. The feeblest and the poorest, as well as the strongest\nand most gifted, believing in Jesus Christ, in proportion as he\nheartily accepts the authority and obeys the commandment of his Lord,\nis a friend of God. It is a very unequal friendship, as we must all\nfeel. He has all the strength, all the wisdom, all the goodness, all\nthe gifts; but the sense of inequality is removed by His own gracious\nfriendliness: He attaches such importance to a heartfelt love that He\nis willing to accept that as the fair equivalent of all that He does\nand gives to us; and He remedies the terrible inferiority of His\nfriends by realizing His own life in them and merging their\nimperfection in His perfectness, their limitations in His infinity.\n\nNow, shall we venture to assume that you and God are friends; that the\nbeautiful relation which we have examined, the delight in mutual\ncompanionship, the interchange of thought and feeling, the quick and\nquickening response of love and comprehension, exist between you and\nHim? Come and read some of these sayings again and apply them to Him.\nYou may gaze into the heart of God, and as face answers to face in a\nquiet pool, you may find yourself in Him,--a larger self, a truer\nself, a holier self, than you could ever find in any human fellowship,\nor than you had ever dared to imagine. This familiar intercourse with\nGod, which has its roots in a profound reverence and its fruits in an\nunutterable joy, is the new creation of a human soul. A man will be\nknown by his friends, and most assuredly he will be known, if his\nFriend and most constant Companion is God. He will regard that status\nas his highest title and distinction, just as Lord Brooks was so proud\nof knowing Sir Philip Sydney that he wished his epitaph to be \"Here\nlies Sir Philip Sydney's friend.\"\n\nAgain, in this close fellowship with God, in His warnings and\nencouragements and chastisements, even in the \"faithful wounds\" that\nHe inflicts, does not the heart perceive His sweetness as an ointment\nand perfume? Does not the quiet place where these passages of tender\nfriendship between your soul and God occur become redolent with a\nprecious fragrance, as of incense or of fresh flowers?\n\nAnd then the deep meaning which the friendship of God brings into our\ntext, \"A friend loveth at all times, and as a brother\"--yes, our\nDivine Brother, the Lord Jesus Christ--\"is born for adversity;\" or\ninto that other saying, \"There is a lover that cleaves more than a\nbrother\"! Let us have no loud pharisaical ways in blessing our\nFriend,[489] but let no effort seem too exacting to retain unbroken\nthis priceless blessing of the Divine Communion!\n\nNow, where the soul counts God its nearest and dearest Friend,--the\nFriend of whom nothing in life or death can rob it,--this effect\nfollows by a beautiful necessity: the chief and all-inclusive\nfriendship being secured, we are at leisure from ourselves to soothe\nand sympathise, we are able to extend our thoughts and our ministries\nof love to all around us, and to reflect in our relations with men\nthat exquisite relation which God has deigned to establish with us.\nOur own private friendships then produce no exclusiveness, but rather\nthey become the types of our feelings to others, and the\never-springing fountainhead of friendly thoughts and courteous deeds;\nwhile these private friendships and our wider relations alike are all\nbrought up into the lofty and purifying friendship which we hold with\nour God and He with us.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[475] Prov. xviii. 24. This sense is obtained by what appears a\nnecessary change in the text; we must read \u05d9\u05b5\u05e9\u05c1 for \u05d0\u05b4\u05d9\u05e9\u05c1. A similar\nerror occurs 2 Sam. xiv. 19 and Micah vi. 10.\n\n[476] Prov. xxvii. 14.\n\n[477] Prov. xxvii. 19.\n\n[478] \"Sorrows by being communicated grow less and joys\ngreater.\"--BACON.\n\n[479] Prov. xxvii. 17.\n\n[480] Prov. xxvii. 6.\n\n[481] Prov. xxvii. 9.\n\n[482] \"Amicus certus in re incerta cernitur.\"--CICERO.\n\n[483] Prov. xxvii. 10.\n\n[484] Prov. xviii. 24.\n\n[485] Prov. xviii. 19.\n\n[486] 2 Chron. xx. 7.\n\n[487] Exod. xxxiii. 11.\n\n[488] John xv. 14.\n\n[489] Prov. xxvii. 14.\n\n\n\n\n XVIII.\n\n _THE EVIL OF ISOLATION._\n\n \"He that separates himself follows after his own desire, but\n against all sound wisdom he shows his teeth.\"--PROV. xviii. 1.\n\n\nFrom the value of friendship there is a natural and easy transition to\nthe evil of isolation. We must try to fathom the profound meaning\nwhich is hidden under this simple but striking proverb. To begin with,\nwhat are we to understand by \"one that separates himself\"? This same\nword occurs in 2 Sam. i. 23 concerning Saul and Jonathan, that \"in\ntheir death they were not separated.\" Theirs was a togetherness which\naccompanied them to the grave. On the other hand, there are people who\nshun all togetherness in their lives,--they are voluntarily,\ndeliberately separated from their kind, and they seem for the first\ntime to blend with their fellows when their undistinguished dust mixes\nwith the dust of others in the common grave. We are to think of a\nperson who has no ties with any of his fellow-creatures, who has\nbroken such ties as bound him to them, or is of that morbid and\nunnatural humour that makes all intercourse with others distasteful.\nWe are to think more especially of one who chooses this life of\nsolitariness in order to follow out his own desire rather than from\nany necessity of circumstance or disposition; one who finds his\npleasure in ignoring mankind, and wishes for intercourse with them\nonly that he may vent his spleen against them; in a word, we are to\nthink of a Misanthrope.\n\nWe must be careful in catching the precise idea, because there are men\nwho shut themselves off from their kind, rightly or wrongly, in order\nto seek the common welfare. A student or an inventor, sometimes even a\nteacher or a preacher, will find the solitude of the study or the\nlaboratory the only condition on which he can accomplish the work to\nwhich he is called. The loss of domestic life or of social pleasures,\nthe withdrawal from all the \"kindly ways of men,\" may be a positive\npain to him, a cross which he bears for the direct good of those whose\ncompany he forswears, or for the cause of Truth, in whose service\nalone it is possible to permanently benefit his fellows. Such a\n\"separation\" as this--painful, difficult, unrewarded--we must exclude\nfrom the intention of our text, although possibly our text might\nconvey a warning even to these benevolent eremites, that unless the\nheart is kept warm by human sympathies, unless the mind is kept in\ntouch with the common cares and joys of our kind, the value of even\nintellectual work will be considerably diminished, while the worker\nhimself must inevitably and perhaps needlessly suffer. But, on the\nwhole, we must except these nobler instances of isolation, if we would\nfeel the full force of the judgment which is pronounced in the text.\n\nThe misanthrope is one who has no faith in his fellows, and shrinks\ninto himself to escape them; who pursues his own private ends,\navoiding all unnecessary speech with those who are around him, living\nalone, dying unobserved, except for the mischief which consciously or\nunconsciously he does to those who survive him. Such an one is aptly\ndescribed as showing his teeth[490] in an angry snarl against all the\napproaches of a true wisdom.\n\nShakespeare might have had this proverb before him in that grim\ndelineation of Richard the Third, who boasts that he has neither pity,\nlove, nor fear. He was, he had been told, born with teeth in his mouth.\n\n \"And so I was,\" he exclaims; \"which plainly signified\n That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog.\"\n\nAnd then he explains his terrible character in these significant\nlines:--\n\n \"I have no brother, I am like no brother:\n And this word Love, which greybeards call divine,\n Be resident in _men like one another_,\n And not in me; _I am myself alone_.\"[491]\n\nYes, Love can only exist among men who are like one another; and no\nmore damning indictment can be brought against a human being than\nthis, that he is _himself alone_.\n\nThe truth is that every man is not only a \"self,\" a personality, but\nhe is a very complex being made up of many relations with other men.\nHe is a son, a brother, a friend, a father, a citizen. Suppose him to\nbe stripped of all sonship, brotherhood, friendship, fatherhood, and\ncitizenship; there is left, not a _man_, but a mere _self_, and that\nis his hideous condemnation. In the same way, a woman that is neither\ndaughter, nor sister, nor wife, nor friend, nor ministrant, does not\ndeserve the grand name of woman; she is a mere _self_, a point of\nexigent and querulous desires. The most appalling discovery in a great\ncity is that multitudes have become mere _selves_,--hungry, hollow,\nravening, thirsty, shrivelled selves. The father and mother are dead,\nor left far away, probably never known; no one is brother to them,\nthey are brothers to no one. Friend has no significance to their\nunderstanding, or means only one who, from most interested motives,\nministers to their craving appetites; they are not citizens of London,\nnor of any other city; they are not Englishmen, though they were born\nin England, nor have they any other nationality,--hideous, clamorous,\nesurient selves, nothing more. An old Greek saying declared that one\nwho lives alone is either a god or a wild beast;[492] while, as we\nhave already seen, there are a few of the isolated ones who are\nisolated from noble and even Divine motives, the vast majority are in\nthis condition because they have fallen from the level of humanity\ninto the roving and predatory state of wild animals, that seek their\nmeat by night and lurk in a lonely lair by day.\n\nThe \"sound wisdom\" against which the isolated rage is nothing less\nthan the kindly law which makes us men, and ordains that we should not\nlive to ourselves alone, but should fulfil our noble part as members\none of another. The Social Instinct is one of two or three striking\ncharacteristics which mark us out as human: a man by himself is only\nan animal, and a very poor animal too; in size he is far beneath the\ngreatest of the creatures that inhabit land and sea; he is not as\nswift as the winged denizens of the air; his strength in proportion to\nhis bulk is debility compared with that of the tiniest insects. His\ndistinction in the creation, and his excelling dignity, are derived\nfrom the social relations which make him in combination strong, in the\nintercourse of speech and thought, wise, and in the loving response of\nheart to heart, noble. If by some unhappy accident a human being\nwanders early from his place into the forests, is suckled by wild\nbeasts, and grows up among them, the result is an animal inconceivably\nrepulsive, fierce, cunning, and ugly; vulpine, but without the wolf's\nagile grace; bearish, but without the bear's slow-pacing dignity.\n\nThe \"sound wisdom\" is the wisdom of the Creator, who from the beginning\ndetermined that it is not good for men to live alone, and marked His\nconception of the unity which should bind them together by the gift of\nthe woman to the man, to be bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh.\n\nIt becomes therefore a necessity to every wise human being to\nrecognise, to maintain, and to cultivate all those wholesome\nrelationships which make us truly human. \"As a bird that wandereth\nfrom her nest, so is a man that wandereth from his place.\"[493]\nSometimes when a great ship is far off in mid-ocean, a tired land-bird\nwill fall panting and exhausted upon the deck: the wings can beat no\nlonger; the eyes glaze; and the eager wanderer fails and dies. The\ntrue bird-life is the life of the woods, of the toilsomely-woven\nnest, of the mate and the brood and the fledglings. In the same way on\nthose ocean steamers--ay, and in many a weary bye-path and lonely\ndesert of the earth--may be found men who have broken away from the\nties which formed their strength and their truer being, and now fall,\nfaint and purposeless, to languish and to die. For true human life is\nthe life of our fellows, of the diligent laborious housebuilding, of\nthe home, of the young, of the rising nestlings which are to form the\nnext link in the long chain of the generations.\n\nNeighbourliness is the larger part of life; we are not to go to our\ndistant \"brother's house in the day of our calamity, for better is a\nneighbour that is near than a brother far off.\"[494] Our life is rich\nand true and helpful just in proportion as we are entwined with those\nwho live around us in bonds of mutual respect and consideration, of\nreciprocal helpfulness and service, of intimate and intelligent\nfriendship.\n\nIt is hardly necessary to say that there is neighbourliness _and_\nneighbourliness. Our relation to our neighbours may be that of mere\nbusybodies, tattlers, and whisperers; it may be devoid of tact and\nconsideration: there is need therefore of a warning to \"hold back thy\nfoot from thy neighbour's house; lest he be sated with thee, and hate\nthee.\"[495] But this possible abuse does not affect the broad and\nsalutary principle: we are meant to live in one another; our nature can\nrealize itself, and accomplish its mission, only in generous and noble\nrelations with those who are about us. The home is at the foundation of\nall; a good son or daughter will generally make a good man or woman;\ngood brothers will prove good citizens, good sisters good ministrants\nand teachers to the poor and the ignorant; good fathers will be the best\nrulers in Church and State. The home will be the preparation for the\nlarger life of the town, or the social circle, or the state. And thus\nfrom the cradle to the grave no man should live alone, but every one\nshould be a member of a larger body, holding a definite place in a\nsystem or organism, depending on others, with others depending on him.\nNerves should run through the body politic, motor nerves and sensory\nnerves; the joys and pains of a community should be shared, the\nactivities of a community should be united. No one should live to\nhimself; all should live, and rejoice to live, in the great co-operative\nsociety of the world, in which personal interests are mutual interests\nand the gains of each are the gains of all.\n\nBut we can hardly probe to the depths of this Proverbial Philosophy\nwithout becoming aware that we are touching on an idea which is the\nmainspring of Christianity on its earthly and visible side. We seem to\nhave detected in all the preceding discussion echoes, however faint,\nof the Apostolic teaching which gave practical shape and body to the\nwork of our Lord Jesus Christ.\n\nThe relation of Christ, as the Son of God, to the human race as a whole,\nimmediately opened up the possibility of a world-wide society in which\nall nations, all classes, all castes, all degrees, all individualities,\nshould be not so much merged as distinctly articulated and recognised in\na complete and complex whole. The kingdom of heaven, while borrowing\nits terminology from earthly kingdoms, was unlike any one of them\nbecause it was to include them all. Into that kingdom all the peoples,\nnations, and languages should pass.\n\nThe Catholic Church, as the first attempt to realize this grand idea,\npresented for a time a certain faint and wavering reflection of the\nimage in the heavens. The fault of seeking the unity of the race in a\npriesthood instead of in the people was of course a fatal one to its\nown ultimate success, but at least one great service was rendered to\nhumanity; the idea became familiar of a Unity, in which the narrower\nunities of the family, the social circle, and the nation were to find\ntheir completion. And when the intelligence and the faith of men broke\nwith the Catholic Church, it was not a breach with the Catholic idea,\nbut merely a transition to a nobler and a more living realization of\nthe idea. At present the idea is daily clearing and assuming vaster\nproportions; humanity is seen to be one; the Great Father presides\nover a family which may be sundered, but cannot be really parted; over\na race which is divided, but not actually separated.\n\nStrange and rapturous have been the emotions of men as they have\nentered into the realization of this idea, and the thrill of their\nvast fellowship has passed through their hearts. Sometimes they have\nturned away in bitterness of revolt from the Christian Church, which\nwith harsh dogmatisms and fierce anathemas, with cruel exclusiveness\nand sectarian narrowness, seems rather to check than to further the\nsublime thought of the One Father, of whom all the family is named in\nheaven and in earth. But whatever justification there may be for\ncomplaint against the Church, we cannot afford to turn our thoughts\nfrom the Son of Man, who has redeemed the race to which we belong, and\nwho, as the Divine Power, is alone able to carry out in effect the\ngreat conception which He has given us in thought.\n\nAnd now I am going to ask you for a moment to consider how the text\nreads in the light of the work and the presence and the person of\nJesus Christ, who has come to gather together in one those that are\nscattered abroad.\n\nThe person of Christ is the link which binds all men together; the\npresence of Christ is the guarantee of the union; the work of Christ,\nwhich consists in the removal of sin, is the main condition of a\nheart-unity for all mankind. When therefore you put your trust in Christ\nand your sinful nature is subdued, you are incorporated into a body of\nwhich He is the head, and you must pass out of the narrow self-life into\nthe broad Christ-life; you can no longer live for yourself alone,\nbecause as the member of a body you exist only in relation to all the\nother members. \"But,\" it is said, \"am I not to seek my own salvation,\nand then to work it out with fear and trembling? am I not to withdraw\nfrom the world, and to labour hard to make my calling and election\nsure?\" In a certain sense, the answer to that question is, Yes. But then\nit is only in a certain sense; for you make sure of your own salvation\nprecisely in proportion as you are really incorporated into Christ, and\nare made a genuine member of the body: as St. John says, \"We know that\nwe are passed from death unto life _because we love the brethren_,\" and\n\"if we walk in the light we _have fellowship one with another_, and the\nblood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin.\" We work out our\nsalvation therefore only by losing the self in others; we withdraw from\nthe world and make our calling sure, just as our thoughts become\nidentified with God's thoughts, and as our lives are passed in cheerful\nand victorious service.\n\nIf, then, on the ground of our humanity we are cautioned against\nseparating ourselves, because by so doing we set our teeth against all\nsound wisdom, on the ground of our Christianity we must be warned not\nto separate ourselves, because that means to harden our hearts against\nthe faith itself. When we say to ourselves, \"We will live our\nChristian life alone,\" that is equivalent to saying, \"We will not live\nthe Christian life at all.\" We do not know what the life in heaven may\nbe,--though from the casual glimpses we obtain of it, we should say\nthat it is a great social gathering, at which we shall sit down with\nAbraham and all the saints of God, a kind of marriage festivity to\ncelebrate the union of the Lord with His bride,--but it is plain that\nthe Christian life, as it is revealed to us here, _must be the life of\na community_, for it is likened to a vine, from which all dead\nbranches are cut off, and plainly all cut-off branches are dead.\n\n\"But,\" say many people amongst us, \"we put our faith in the Lord Jesus\nChrist; we trust to Him; why should you impose any further\nconditions?\" Do they put their faith in Him? Does not faith imply\nobedience? Did He not require His disciples to be united in a\nfellowship, and did He not give His body and His blood as a symbol of\nthis fellowship, and command them to take the symbols in remembrance\nof Him until He comes? Are these isolated believers obeying Him, or\nare they not cutting at the root of His glorious purpose of human\nfellowship in the Divine Head? And if they are thus breaking His\nexpressed commandment, has He not warned them that He will say, \"I\nnever knew you, depart from Me,\" although they have taught in His\nname, and even cast out devils and done many wonderful works?\n\nAnd in thus reminding you of our Lord's thought, I am not speaking\nonly of what we call the fellowship of the Church; for there are many\nwho are merely nominal members of the Church, and though their names\nare enrolled they \"separate themselves\" and live the life of\nunhallowed isolation, just as they did before they professedly entered\ninto the Christian society. This is a larger question than that of\nChurch membership; Church membership derives its vast importance from\nbeing a part of this larger question. Will you, therefore, let me\nclose with a personal appeal addressed to each one of you?\n\nYou know that the Son of Man would make men one; you know that He\ncalls His disciples into a holy family of mutual love and service, so\nthat men may know that they are His, and may recognise Him because\nthey love one another. Are you venturing to disregard His commandment\nand to frustrate His will by separating yourself for your own desire?\nhave you fallen out of all relations with His family, so that the\nsonship, the brotherhood, the friendship, the fatherhood, the\ncitizenship, of the heavenly kingdom are as good as meaningless to\nyou? If so, may I say in the words of the text, you are setting \"your\nteeth against all sound wisdom\"?\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[490] See note on \u05d4\u05b4\u05ea\u05b0\u05bc\u05e0\u05b7\u05bc\u05dc\u05b8\u05bc\u05e2 in Lecture XV., p. 205.\n\n[491] _III. King Henry VI._, Act v., Sc. 6.\n\n[492] \u1f22 \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f22 \u03b8\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[493] Prov. xxvii. 8.\n\n[494] Prov. xxvii. 10.\n\n[495] Prov. xxv. 17.\n\n\n\n\n XIX.\n\n _HUMAN FREEDOM._\n\n \"The foolishness of man subverteth his way;\n And his heart fretteth against the Lord.\"--PROV. xix. 3.\n\n\nThere is such a valuable expansion and commentary on this proverb in\nthe book of Ecclesiasticus that it seems worth while to quote it in\nfull: \"Say not, it is through the Lord that I fell away, for the\nthings He hates thou shalt not do. Say not, it is He that caused me to\nerr, for He has no use for a sinful man. Every abomination the Lord\nhates, neither is it lovely to those that fear Him. He Himself at the\noutset made Man, and left him in the power of his own control, that,\nif thou wilt, thou shouldst keep His commandments, and to do\nfaithfully what is pleasing to Him. He set fire and water before thee,\nthat thou shouldst stretch out thy hand to which thou wilt. In front\nof men is life and death, and whichever a man pleases shall be given\nto him. Because wide is the wisdom of the Lord; He is mighty in power,\nbeholding all things; and His eyes are upon them that fear Him, and He\nHimself will take note of every work of man. He never enjoined any one\nto do wickedly, and He never gave to any one licence to sin.\"[496]\n\nIt is our constant tendency to claim whatever good we do as our own\ndoing, and to charge whatever evil we do on causes which are beyond our\ncontrol,--on heredity, on circumstances of our birth and upbringing, or\neven on God. The Scriptures, on the other hand, regard all our good\ndeeds as the work which God works within us, when our will is given to\nHim, while all our evil is ascribed to our own foolish and corrupt will,\nfor which we are, and shall be, held responsible. This is certainly a\nvery remarkable contrast, and we shall do well to take account of it. It\nis not necessary to run into any extreme statement, to deny the effects\neither of taints in the blood which we receive from our parents, or of\nearly surroundings and education, or even the enormous influence which\nother people exercise over us in later life; but when all allowance is\nmade for these recognised facts, the contention of the text is that what\nreally subverts our lives is our own folly,--and not uncontrollable\ncircumstances,--and our folly is due, not to our misfortune, but to our\nfault.\n\nNow we will not attempt to deal with all the modifications and\nreservations and refinements which ingenuity might offer to this\ndoctrine; however charity may require us to make allowance for others\non the ground of disadvantages, it is questionable whether we help\nthem, and it is certain that we weaken ourselves, by turning attention\nconstantly from the central fact to the surrounding circumstances; we\nwill therefore try to steadily look at this truth of Individual\nResponsibility, and lay it to heart. When we have acquitted ourselves\nof blame, and have obtained a discharge in the forum of our own\nconscience, it will be time to seek other causes of our guilt, and to\n\"fret against the Lord.\"\n\nBut before we turn inwards and appeal to our own consciousness, may we\nnot observe how absurd it is that the Lord should be charged with\nresponsibility for our sins? What do we know of the Lord except that\nHe hates and abominates sin? It is as the Hater of sin that He is\nrevealed to us in ever-clearer forms from the first page of revelation\nto the last. But more, the most powerful proof that we possess of His\nexistence is to be found in the voice of conscience within us; we\ninstinctively identify Him with that stern monitor that denounces so\nvigorously and unsparingly all our offences against holiness. The God\nof revelation is from the first declared to be \"He who will by no\nmeans clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the\nchildren.\" The God of conscience is by the very nature of the case\nidentified with the uncompromising sentence against evil; is it not\nthen obviously inconsistent to lay our sins to the charge of God? We\nare more assured of His Holiness than of His omnipotence; we cannot\ntherefore bring His omnipotence to impeach His holiness. We see Him as\nthe Avenger of sin before we see Him in any other capacity; we cannot\ntherefore bring any subsequent vision of Him to discredit the first.\nIt is surely the dictate of plain common sense, as St. James says,\nthat \"God cannot be tempted with evil, and He Himself tempteth no man:\nbut each man is tempted, when he is drawn away by his own lust, and\nenticed. Then the lust, when it hath conceived, beareth sin: and the\nsin, when it is full grown, bringeth forth death.\"[497]\n\nNow our actual responsibility for our own sins, and the troubles\nwhich result from them, will perhaps come out in the clear light of\nconscience, if we regard our conduct in the following way. We must\nmake an appeal to consciousness. There are actions which,\nconsciousness tells us, rest entirely on our own choice, and\nconcerning which no sophistry, however ingenious, can furnish an\nadequate exculpation. There was in these cases, as we well remember,\nthe plain offer of an alternative \"Fire or Water, Life or Death.\" We\nknew at the time that we were equally able to take either of them; we\nfelt no compulsion; there was, it is true, a great tumult of\nconflicting motives, but when the motives were balanced and the\nresulting verdict was declared, we were perfectly conscious that we\ncould, if we chose, reverse the verdict and give our judgment against\nit. Our first deviations from truth, from purity, from charity, come\nup before us as we reflect; the struggle which went on survives\nvividly in memory; and when we yielded to the evil power we were\nconscious at the time, as we remember still, that our will was to\nblame. As the lie glided from the lips, as the unhallowed thought was\nallowed to pass into act, as the rein was thrown on the neck of the\nevil passion, we knew that we were doing wrong, we felt that by an\nadequate exercise of the will we could do right. Cast your eye back on\nthe steps by which your character was formed, on the gradual\ndestruction of your finer feelings, on the steady decline of your\nspiritual instincts, on the slow deadening and searing of your moral\nsense. Do you not remember how deliberately you submitted to the\nfascinations of that dangerous friend, whom your conscience entirely\ndisapproved? how wilfully you opened and perused the pages of that\nfoul book, which swept over your soul like a mud-torrent and left its\nslimy sediment there ever after? how you consciously avoided the\ninfluence of good people, made every excuse to escape the prayer, the\nreading, the sermon, which was to you a conscience-stirring influence,\nan appeal of God to the soul?\n\nAs you retrace those fatal steps, you will be surprised to discover how\nentirely your own master you were at the time, although the evil deeds\ndone then have forged a chain which limits your freedom now. If at any\nof those critical moments some one had said to you, Are you free to do\njust which of the two things you please? you would have replied at once,\nWhy, of course I am. Indeed, if there had been any compulsion to evil,\nyou would have rebelled against it and resisted it. It was really the\ncomplete liberty, the sense of power, the delight in following your own\ndesire, that determined your choice. The evil companion persuaded, your\nconscience dissuaded, neither compelled; when the balance hung even you\nthrew the weight of your will into the scale. The book lay open;\ncuriosity, prurience, impurity, bade you read; your best conviction\nshamed you and called you away: when the two forces pulled even, you\ndeliberately gave _your_ support to the evil force. The solemn voice of\nprayer and worship called you, moving you with mystical power, waking\nstrange desires and hopes and aspirations; the half-mocking voice of the\nearth was also in your ear, tempting, luring, exciting, and when the\nsounds were about balanced, you raised up your own voice for the one and\ngave it the predominance.\n\nOr if now in the bondage of evil you can no longer realize that you\nwere once free, you can look at others who are now where you were\nthen; notice even when you try to tempt your younger companions into\nevil, how the blush of shame, the furtive glance, the sudden collapse\nof resistance, plainly proves that the action is one consciously\ndetermined by an evil choice; notice how your first blasphemies, your\nfirst devil-born doubts, suggestions, and innuendoes, bring the pained\nexpression to the face, and raise a conflict which the will has to\ndecide. In this appeal to consciousness or to observation we must be\nscrupulously honest with ourselves; we must take infinite pains not to\ngarble the evidence to suit a foregone conclusion or to excuse an\naccomplished fall. I think we may say that when men are honest with\nthemselves, and in proportion as they are pure and innocent, and not\nyet bound hand and foot by the bondage of their own sins, they know\nthat they have been free, that in the face of all circumstances they\nstill stood uncommitted; that if they yielded to temptation it was\ntheir own \"foolishness that subverted their way.\"\n\nBut now we may pass from these inward moral decisions which have\ndetermined our character and made us what we are, to the ordinary\nactions which form the greater part of our everyday conduct. Here again\nwe are generally inclined to take credit for every course which has a\nhappy issue, and for every unfortunate decision to cast the blame on\nothers. We are reminded, however, that our misfortunes are generally the\nresult of our own folly; we are too impatient, too hasty, too impetuous,\ntoo self-willed. \"Desire without knowledge is not good, and he that\nhasteth with his feet misseth the way.\"[498] If we look back upon our\nmistakes in life, it is surprising to see how many were due to our own\nheadstrong determination to follow our own way, and our complete\ndisregard of the prudent counsels which our wiser friends ventured to\noffer us. \"The way of the foolish is right in his own eyes: but he that\nis wise hearkeneth unto counsel.\"[499] \"Where there is no counsel,\npurposes are disappointed: but in the multitude of counsellors they are\nestablished.\"[500] \"Hear counsel,\" is the command of this chapter, \"and\nreceive instruction, that thou mayest be wise in thy latter end.\"[501]\n\"Every purpose is established by counsel,\"--affairs of state, whether\ncivil[502] or military,[503]--and so by counsel a man is made strong and\nis able to carry out the warfare of his own personal life.[504] It is\nwell for us therefore not only to accept counsel which is proffered to\nus, but to be at pains to get it, for it often lies, like the waters of\na well, deep down in a man's mind, and requires some patience and skill\nin order to elicit it.[505]\n\nOur false steps are due to a rash precipitancy which prevents us from\nlooking at the question on all its sides, and learning the views of\nthose who have had experience and know. The calamities which befell us\nwere foreseen by many onlookers, and were even foretold by our friends,\nbut we could accept no advice, no warning. And while therefore it is\nperfectly true that our own judgment was not sufficient to ward off the\nevil or prevent the _faux pas_, we are none the less to blame, our own\nfoolishness has none the less subverted our way, for it was our own\nfault that we refused to be advised, it was our own incredible folly\nthat made us form so wrong an idea of our wisdom.\n\nSuppose then that in our retrospect of life and in the estimation of our\nerrors, we mark off all those sins for which our conscience duly charges\nus with direct responsibility, and all those blunders which might have\nbeen avoided if we had wisely submitted to more prudent judgments than\nour own, what is there that remains? Can we point out any group of\nactions or any kind of errors which are yet unaccounted for, and may\npossibly be charged on some other person or thing than ourselves? Is\nthere yet some opening by which we may escape responsibility? Are there\nany effectual and valid excuses that we can successfully urge?\n\nNow it appears that all these possible excuses are netted and\ncompletely removed--and every avenue of escape is finally blocked--by\nthis broad consideration; God is at hand as the wisest of Counsellors,\nand we might by simple appeal to Him, and by reverently obeying His\ncommandments, avoid all the evils and the dangers to which we are\nexposed. So far from being able to excuse ourselves and to lay the\nblame on God, it is our chief and all-inclusive fault, it is the\nclearest mark of our foolishness, that we do not resort to Him for\nhelp, but constantly follow our own devices; that we do not rely upon\nHis goodness, but idly fret against Him and all His ordinances. \"There\nare many devices in a man's heart,\" but over against these feeble,\nfluctuating, and inconsistent ideas of ours is \"the counsel of the\nLord, which shall stand.\"[506] \"The fear of the Lord tendeth to life:\nand he that hath it shall abide satisfied; he shall not be visited\nwith evil.\"[507] There is a way of life, there is a plain commandment,\na law of God's appointing: \"He that keepeth the commandment keepeth\nhis soul: but he that is careless of his ways shall die.\"[508] It is\nsimply our own carelessness that is our ruin; if we would pay the\nslightest heed, if there were one grain of seriousness in us, we\nshould be wise, we should get understanding, and so find good in the\nsalvation of the soul;[509] we should not, as we so often do, \"hear\ninstruction, only to err from the words of knowledge.\"[510]\n\nWe may wonder at the strong conviction with which this truth was urged\neven under the Jewish law; it may seem to us that the requirements\nthen were so great, and the details so numerous, and the revelation so\nuncertain, that a man could scarcely be held responsible if he missed\nthe way of life through inadvertence or defective knowledge. Yet even\nthen the path was plain, and if a man missed it he had but himself and\nhis own folly to blame. But how much more plain and sure is everything\nmade for us! Our Lord has not only declared the way, but He is the\nWay; He has not only given us a commandment to keep, but He has\nHimself kept it, and offers to the believing soul the powers of an\ninward life, by which the yoke of obedience becomes easy, and the\nburden of service is made light. He has become \"the end of the law to\nevery one that believeth.\" He has made His offer of Himself not only\ngeneral, but universal, so that no human being can say that he is\nexcluded, or murmur that he is not able to \"keep his soul.\" His word\nis gone out into all the world, and while they who have not heard it,\nbeing without a law are yet a law unto themselves, and are responsible\nby virtue of that self-witness which God has given everywhere in\nNature, in Society, and in the conscience of man, how can we\nsufficiently emphasize our own responsibility, to whom God has spoken\nin the latter days by His own Son! Surely \"whoso despiseth the word\nbringeth destruction on himself.\"[511]\n\nIf even in that old and darker dispensation the light was so clear\nthat it was chargeable to a man's own folly when he disobeyed,--and\n\"judgments were prepared for scorners, and stripes for the backs of\nfools,\"[512]--what must come upon us who have the clearer light if we\nwilfully and foolishly disobey? The counsel of the Lord stands sure:\n\"There is no wisdom nor understanding nor counsel against the\nLord.\"[513] No authority of wise men, no sneers of wits, no devices of\nthe clever, can in the least avail to set aside His mighty ordinance\nor to excuse us for disregarding it. \"The horse is prepared against\nthe day of battle: but victory is of the Lord.\"[514] There can be no\nevasion, no escape. He Himself, by His own invincible power, will\nbring home to the hearts of the rebellious the evil of their\nrebellion, and will send the cruel messenger against them.[515]\n\nDoes it not behove us to remember and to consider? to remember our\noffences, to consider our guilt and the Lord's power? Here is a way of\nlife marked out before you, and there is the way of death; here is the\nwater held out to you, and there is the fire; and you may choose. The\nway of life is in the Gospel of God's dear Son; you know that its\nprecepts are perfect, converting the soul, and that Christ Himself is\nholy, such an one as the earth never bore before or since; you know too\nthat this Holy One came to give His life a ransom for many, that He\ninvited all to come unto Him, and promised to all who came everlasting\nlife. You know that He did give His life a ransom,--as the Good Shepherd\nHe gave Himself for the sheep, and then took again the life which He\nlaid down. You know that He ever liveth to make intercession for us, and\nthat His saving power was not exercised for the last time years and\nyears ago, but this very day, probably just at the moment that I am now\nspeaking to you. The way is plain, and the choice is free; the truth\nshines, and you can open your eyes to it; the life is offered, and you\ncan accept it. What pretext can you give for not choosing Christ, for\nnot coming to the truth, for not accepting the life?\n\nIs it not clear to you that if you refuse Him that speaketh, and your\nway is thus subverted,--as indeed it must be,--it is your own folly\nthat is to blame? You fret against the Lord now, and you charge Him\nfoolishly, but some day you will see clearly that this is all a blind\nand a subterfuge; you will admit that the choice was open to you, and\nyou chose amiss; that life and death were offered to you, and you\npreferred death.\n\nIf any question might be entertained about those who have only the light\nof conscience to guide them, and have not heard of the direct relation\nof succour and support which God is ready to give to those who depend\nupon Him, there can be no doubt of the complete freedom of every human\nbeing, who hears the message of the Gospel, to accept it. You may put\nit aside, you may decline to accept it on the ground of disinclination,\nor because you consider the historical evidence insufficient, but you\nwill be the first to admit that in doing so you exercise your discretion\nand consciously choose the course which you take.\n\nNay, leaving all metaphysical discussion about the freedom of the will,\nI put it to you simply, Can you not, if you choose, come to Christ now?\n\nOh, hear counsel and receive instruction: is not the Spirit pleading\nwith you, counselling, teaching, warning you? Do not harden your\nheart, do not turn away. Attend to Christ now, admit Him now, that you\nmay be wise in your latter end.[516]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[496] Eccles. xv. 11-20.\n\n[497] James i. 13-15.\n\n[498] Prov. xix. 2.\n\n[499] Prov. xii. 15.\n\n[500] Prov. xv. 22.\n\n[501] Prov. xix. 20.\n\n[502] Prov. xi. 14.\n\n[503] Prov. xx. 18.\n\n[504] Prov. xxiv. 5, 6.\n\n[505] Prov. xx. 5.\n\n[506] Prov. xix. 21.\n\n[507] Prov. xix. 23.\n\n[508] Prov. xix. 16.\n\n[509] Prov. xix. 8.\n\n[510] Prov. xix. 27.\n\n[511] Prov. xiii. 13.\n\n[512] Prov. xix. 29.\n\n[513] Prov. xxi. 30.\n\n[514] Prov. xxi. 31.\n\n[515] Prov. xvii. 11.\n\n[516] Prov. xix. 20.\n\n\n\n\n XX.\n\n _IDLENESS._\n\n \"After the autumn gathering the slothful does not plough; he asks\n in the harvest, and there is nothing.\"--PROV. xx. 4.\n\n\nWe have already in the sixth lecture caught a glimpse of the sluggard,\nand in the ninth we have seen in passing that diligence in work is\nenjoined by the teacher; but we must give a more concentrated attention\nto this subject if we would realize the stress which this book of Wisdom\nlays on work as the grand condition of life in this earnest world. They\nwho will not work have no place in an order of things which is\nmaintained by work, and in which the toil itself is the great discipline\nof character and the preparation of joy. It is no churlish or envious\nspirit which pronounces a doom on the idle, but it is the very necessity\nof the case; that idleness which in moments of excessive strain we so\neagerly covet is, if it is accepted as the regular and continuous state\nof the soul, a more ruinous and miserable curse than the hardest labour.\nBy a law which we all break at our peril, we are required to have an\nhonest end and a strenuous occupation in our life; and we are further\nrequired to labour diligently for the end, and to spare no pains to\nachieve it. We have many faculties lying dormant, and we must wake them\ninto activity; we have many gifts half used or not used at all; we must\nturn them all to account, if we would be wholesome, happy, and in the\ntrue sense successful.\n\nFirst of all, let us look at the portrait of the sluggard as it is\ndelineated in some of these proverbial sayings. We see him in bed, at\nthe board, in the house, out of doors. He will not get up in the\nmorning; he turns from side to side, just like a door which swings\nbackwards and forwards on its hinges, but of course never gets any\nfurther.[517] \"Yet a little sleep,\" he says, \"a little slumber, a\nlittle folding of the hands in sleep.\"[518] Or when at last he has\nbrought himself to get up and to sit down to table, he is too\nlethargic even to eat: \"He buries his hand in the dish, and will not\nso much as bring it to his mouth again;\"[519] or if he raises the\nmorsel to his lips, he does it with an air of indescribable languor\nand weariness.[520] Then the time comes for him to go out to his daily\nduties. But he has a number of ingenious, though utterly absurd,\nexcuses why he should not leave the house: \"There is a lion in the\nstreets,\" he says, \"a lion in the way;\"[521] \"There is a lion without;\nI shall be murdered in the streets.\"[522] When he is told that this is\na delusion, he is prepared to argue the matter, and to show that his\nfear is well grounded; he is quite scornful of all the people who\nassure him to the contrary, because they have been out and seen for\nthemselves: \"The sluggard is wiser in his own eyes than seven men that\ncan render a reason.\"[523] And when at length he is launched on the\nbusiness of the day, arriving late, his wits gone wool-gathering, his\nwill as inactive as his mind is inattentive, he drags through every\nduty with the air of one who is walking \"through a hedge of\nthorns.\"[524] Where another person would proceed with easy alacrity,\nhe seems held back by invisible obstacles; his garments are always\ngetting caught in the briars; there is not impetus enough to carry him\nover the slightest difficulty; and after frequent and somnolent\npauses, the end of the day finds him more weary than the busiest,\nthough he has nothing to show but futile efforts and abortive results.\n\nThat is a complete picture of the sluggard. We do not of course see\nhim fully developed very often; but we recognise at once the several\ntendencies in our own characters--the slothfulness, the listlessness,\nthe idle procrastination, the inertia--which may, if unresisted and\nunconquered, gradually bring us nearer to this finished portrait.\n\nThe result of this sluggishness must now be sketched. \"Love not\nsleep,\" we are told, \"lest thou come to poverty; open thine eyes, and\nthou shalt be satisfied with bread.\"[525] The means of subsistence in\nthis world are the result of labour; toilers win them from the\nreluctant earth and sea; the only condition on which we can partake in\nthem is that we should toil, either directly in producing the means of\nsubsistence, or indirectly in doing for the producers helpful service\nfor which they are willing to exchange the fruits of their labour. One\nwho sleeps away the golden hours of work, cast by slothfulness into a\ndeep sleep, has no claim whatever on the earth or the community for\ndaily food; he shall suffer hunger.[526] And if by craft or chance he\nis able to get his bread without any service rendered to the workers,\nhe shall suffer from a soul-hunger more terrible than starvation--the\nunutterable ennui, weariness, disgust, and self-loathing which an idle\nand useless life inevitably produces.\n\nAs the text reminds us, there is an alternation of seasons. There is a\ntime to plough, when the earth has yielded her full autumn fruits;\nthere is a time to sow; there is a harvest. If a man is too lazy to\nplough at the right time and to sow at the right time, his fields will\nof course give him no crops: \"Slothfulness catcheth not his\nprey.\"[527] Nor must we think that God in any grudging spirit has\nordered this law of the seasons. The appetite which forces us to\nlabour, because \"our mouth craves it of us,\"[528] the apparent rigour\nwith which nature requires us to be up betimes and not to let the\nopportunity slip, and the threat of poverty which hangs over our heads\nif we neglect her requirements, are all parts of a beneficent\nlaw,--the law that by work itself our life is sweetened and our spirit\nis developed. They are not to be congratulated who, escaping the spur\nof appetite, and liberated by the toil of others from the rigorous\nedicts of nature which require the laborious ploughing and sowing, are\nenabled to eat the bread of idleness. The hardest worker, worn to the\nbone and ill-remunerated, is really more enviable than they. The\nabundance of food is a poor equivalent for the loss of discipline\nwhich the desire of food was designed to exact through honest and\nearnest work. Men come to us and say in effect, \"Behold after the\nautumn gathering we did not plough, and we asked in harvest, and got\nall that our hearts desired,\" and we are constrained to pity rather\nthan to congratulate them. It is not good for men to slip through the\nlaws of God and nature thus, for their chastisement is heavier in the\nend than in the beginning.\n\nThe truth of this appears when we remember that a worse result of\nslothfulness than poverty is the spiritual rust, decay, and degradation\nwhich slothfulness itself implies: \"The desire of the slothful killeth\nhim, for his hands refuse to labour;\"[529] \"He also that is slack in his\nwork is brother to him that is a destroyer.\"[530] It is indeed a strange\nillusion which makes man desire idleness. Idleness is ruin; the soul\nrusts away like the sword in _Hudibras_, which--\n\n \"... ate into itself, for lack\n Of something else to hew and hack.\"\n\nIt is death, it is deadly; the idle soul slowly dies, and spreads\ndestruction around it. It is the same with a country. Idleness is its\nruin: whether it be that the generosity of nature removes the\nnecessity of work, as in the South Seas, where the missionaries find\none of their chief difficulties in the absolute laziness resulting\nfrom the softness of the climate and the fertility of the soil; or\nthat the vast accumulations of wealth procure idleness for its\npossessors, and enforce idleness on thousands of the unfortunate\nunemployed,--the melancholy result ensues in the enervation of\nmanhood and the corruption of womanhood. On the other hand, as\nThucydides observed in the case of Attica, a rigorous climate and a\nniggardly soil, eliciting all the energies of the people in order to\nimprove their condition or even to live, have been found favourable to\nthe development of a noble nationality. Slackness of work, from\nwhatever cause it may arise, brings its victims into this sorrowful\nkinship with the destroyer.\n\nIt may be noted that the idle, whether they be rich or poor, are\ndenominated \"vain persons,\" and sensible people are cautioned solemnly\nto avoid their society, as their emptiness is contagious, and the\nhabits which are quickly acquired in their company lead straight to\nruin: \"He that tilleth his land shall have plenty of bread, but he\nthat followeth after vain persons is void of understanding;\"[531] \"He\nthat followeth after vain persons shall have poverty enough.\"[532]\n\nThe truth which is here enforced receives ample illustration in our own\nsociety. Two centuries ago Daniel Defoe defined the English as the \"most\nlazy diligent nation\" in the world. Hard work is common; idleness is\nequally common. Our people are on the whole highly gifted, and produce\nrapidly when they give their attention to their work; but we seem to\nhave a strange vein of dissoluteness and laziness running through us,\nand consequently the worst and most shameful idleness is often found\namongst the best workmen, who through their own bad habits have missed\ntheir opportunities, and become a burden to themselves and to the\ncommunity. In no country is the leisured class, of those who do nothing\nat all, or pass their aimless days in a round of engagements which are\nonly strenuous idleness, so large; in no country is the unemployed or\nthe pauper class so ruinously great in proportion to the population.\nHence this curious paradox: the foreigner hears that England is the\nrichest and the most industrious country in the world; he comes to our\nshores expecting to see cities of gold and fields teeming with produce.\nOn his arrival he becomes aware of a degrading poverty such as cannot be\nmatched in the poorest country on earth; he finds a vast population of\nthe unemployed rich lounging in the streets and the parks, and of the\nunemployed poor hanging about the doors of the innumerable drink-shops,\nand infesting every highway and byway of the country. He finds the land\nof the agricultural districts often lying idle and unproductive; those\nwho till it untaught, ill-fed, and discontented; those who possess it\ndiscontented, though well fed and instructed. Our subject does not lead\nus to inquire into the deeper causes of these anomalies, but it leads us\nto this observation: we are a \"lazy diligent nation\" because we have not\nyet learned, or have forgotten, that the thing most to be dreaded is not\npoverty, but idleness; and the thing most to be desired is not wealth,\nbut strenuous, earnest, and useful toil. Our desperate and eager work is\nnot for the work's sake, but in order to get rich; our ambition is to be\nidle rather than to be employed, to be raised above the necessity of\nlabour which is our health by the possession of wealth which is our\nruin. We have cherished the fatal and foolish error that work was\ndegrading, and have ranked those highest who did the least. \"Where no\noxen are,\" we have said in our fastidious way, \"the crib is clean,\"\nforgetting the other side of the matter, that \"much increase is by the\nstrength of the ox.\"[533] Thus we have ignorantly despised the workers\nwho make us rich, looking down upon trade, upon business, and more than\nall upon manual labour; and have with strange fatuity admired most those\nwho were most useless, whose peculiar boast would be that they never did\na day's work in their lives.\n\nHappily now there are signs of a revolution in our thought. We are\nbeginning to see that work is good, not for what it earns, but for the\noccupation and the training which it gives to the body and the mind;\nand that idleness is an evil, not only where work is a necessity, and\nthe appetite craves it of us, but everywhere and under all\ncircumstances. In useful employment we find our life; in the\nsluggard's life we see our death.\n\nWe must observe then the good effects which result from honest and\nearnest toil. But, first, we cannot help noticing what an important\nplace is here given to agriculture. This is not accidental to the time\nin which the book was written. It is an eternal principle. Out of the\nsoil comes our wealth; by the soil therefore we live; and accordingly\nGod has ordained that in the tilling of the ground man shall find his\nwholesomest, sweetest, and most strengthening employment--that no\ncommunity shall inwardly flourish when its agricultural life declines;\nand that therefore the happiest and soundest society will be that in\nwhich the largest proportional number are engaged in producing the\nfruits of the earth, and are directly and vitally attached to their\nmother soil. \"He that tilleth his land shall have plenty of\nbread.\"[534] When a nation is in the case of the sluggard, when you\npass by its fields and its vineyards and see them grown over with\nthorns and nettles and its stone walls broken down, you will find\nPauperism coming as a robber, and Want, gaunt and hideous, stalking\nthrough the land like an armed man.[535] \"Be thou diligent,\" therefore\nwe are told, \"to know the state of thy flocks, and look well to thy\nherds\"--(take care that no foolish pride or negligence prevent you\nfrom seeing that the agricultural life is properly maintained, for it\nis the only sure basis of prosperity); \"riches are not for ever, and\neven the government of kings does not endure to all generations.\" But\nin the sweet ordinances of nature the great Giver provides His\nunfailing wealth: \"The hay is carried, and immediately the tender\ngrass begins to grow again, and even the barren mountains yield their\nherbs for ingathering. The lambs appear every spring with their wool\nfor our clothing, and the field will maintain goats equal in value to\nits own price. And from these miraculous sources of eternal\nreproduction our food and our maintenance are to be drawn.\"[536]\n\nThus at the foundation of all industries is the agricultural industry.\nAt the root of all social and economical questions is the land question.\nWhen you wish to commend diligence and to discourage idleness in a\nnation that is \"lazy diligent,\" the first thing is to inquire into the\ncondition or the use of the land. The land is God's gift to a people.\nEnglish land is God's gift to the English people. If it is misapplied,\nill-used, neglected; if it does not produce its full tale of wealth; if\nit does not support its full burden of living creatures, and give\nemployment to its full number of hands, we are flying in the face of\nGod's ordinances; we must not expect to prosper; His gracious will is\nfrustrated, and we must have the shame and sorrow of seeing our million\nof paupers, and our second million of enforced idlers, and our myriads\nof lazy cumberers of the ground, and our whole population disorganized\nand unsettled, torn with the frenzy of insane work, or gangrened with\nthe corruption of destroying idleness. For the gifts of God are without\nrepentance, and the abuse of His gifts is without remedy.\n\nBut turning now to the good effects which result from honest and earnest\ntoil, we are taught to distinguish three more particularly--plenty,\npower, and personal worth.\n\n_First_, Plenty. \"The soul of the sluggard desireth and hath nothing,\nbut the soul of the diligent shall be made fat.\"[537] Nor must we\nthink that diligence is only manual; it is also mental. It implies\nthought, forethought, planning, arranging. We have a contrast drawn\nbetween the really diligent man, whose prudence foresees, and whose\nreflection orders his work for the best ends, and the fussy,\nunreflecting activity of one who is always busy, but never\naccomplishes anything. It is only the diligence of the first kind that\nleads to the desired end; the diligence of mere restlessness is not\nmuch better than idleness. We learn that \"the thoughts of the diligent\ntend only to plenteousness, but every one that is hasty hasteth only\nto want.\"[538] Effectual labour implies thought; only a wise man, with\nall his faculties brought into full and harmonious play, can work with\nany good result, or can thriftily use the fruits of his labour; a\nfoolish, thoughtless, witless person may work hard and earn a good\ndeal of money, but it is gone even faster than it came. Thus \"there is\nprecious treasure and oil in the dwelling of _the wise_, but a foolish\nman swalloweth it up.\"[539] There are exceptions, no doubt; but the\ngeneral rule is borne out by experience, that they who honestly and\nearnestly use the gifts of mind and body which God has given them,\nobtain the things which are needful in this life, if not to\noverflowing, yet in sufficiency; and where means fail we generally\nhave to admit that our own industry or prudence was at fault.\n\nThen, _secondly_, it is industry rather than genius which commends us to\nour fellow-men, and leads us to positions of influence and power: \"Seest\nthou a man diligent in his business? he shall stand before kings, he\nshall not stand before mean men;\"[540] \"The hand of the diligent shall\nbear rule, but the slothful shall be put under task-work.\"[541] It is\nthis golden faculty of persistence, concentration, diligence, which\nmakes every great ruler and leader of men, and raises even the very\nordinary person out of the drudgery of mere task-work into the dignity\nof large and noble and delightful toil.\n\nFor, _thirdly_, it is diligence, the capacity of taking pains, that\ngives to a man his actual worth, making him compact and strong and\nserviceable: \"The precious substance of men is to be diligent.\"[542]\nIt is the quality itself which is all important. The greatest gifts\nare of little worth, unless there is this guarantee of the\nconscientious and intelligent employment of them. While if the gifts\nwith which God has endowed us are of the simplest order, if we can\nonly use a spade or a saw or a broom effectively, that faculty\ndiligently exercised is our value to the world; and a great value it\nis--greater than the value of high genius which is erratic, unbridled,\nundirected, and uncertain. Of every man or woman in this world the\nhighest praise which can be uttered is that which underlies the\ncommendation of the good wife: \"She looketh well to the ways of her\nhousehold, and eateth not the bread of idleness.\"[543] There is the\nepitome of all trustworthy and honourable character.\n\nWe have been dwelling all this time on a simple virtue of a very\nmundane type. But all that has been said may be immediately raised to\na higher plane by one observation. Our Lord and Master was diligent\nabout His Father's business, and has left on record this saying: \"I\nmust work the works of Him that sent Me while it is called to-day; for\nthe night cometh, in which no one can work.\" As each one of us comes\nunder His influence and passes into His faith and obedience, the\njoyful seriousness of our life-work deepens; it is lit by the rich\nglow of a sunset glory. We want to do diligently what our hand finds\nto do--to do it earnestly as unto the Lord. By patient and industrious\nexercise of every faculty which He has given us, we wish to be\nprepared for any task which He may appoint here or hereafter. Some of\nus He only apprentices in this world; and according to the\nfaithfulness with which we discharge our humble and unnoticed duties\nwill be the service to which He will one day appoint us. Others are\ncalled out of apprenticeship into the rough and eager work of the\njourneyman, and His eye is always upon us as He tries us to find\nwhether we may ever be appointed over one, or five, or ten cities. A\nfew supreme souls have been called even on earth to shape, to create,\nto control; a Paul, an Augustine, a Luther, can work with an\nemancipated hand. But the law is one all through the workshops, the\nfields, the vineyards of our Lord. The diligent shall stand before\nHim, and the slothful shall be shamed. He that does not plough will\nnot reap. Wasted opportunities vanish for ever, and leave only their\ndoleful record in the emasculated and nerveless soul.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[517] Prov. xxvi. 14.\n\n[518] Prov. xxiv. 34.\n\n[519] Prov. xix. 24.\n\n[520] Prov. xxvi. 15.\n\n[521] Prov. xxvi. 13.\n\n[522] Prov. xxii. 13.\n\n[523] Prov. xxvi. 16.\n\n[524] Prov. xv. 19.\n\n[525] Prov. xx. 13.\n\n[526] Prov. xix. 15.\n\n[527] Prov. xii. 27.\n\n[528] Prov. xvi. 26.\n\n[529] Prov. xxi. 25.\n\n[530] Prov. xviii. 9.\n\n[531] Prov. xii. 11.\n\n[532] Prov. xxviii. 19.\n\n[533] Prov. xiv. 4.\n\n[534] Prov. xxviii. 19.\n\n[535] Prov. xxiv. 30-34.\n\n[536] Prov. xxvii. 23-27.\n\n[537] Prov. xiii. 4.\n\n[538] Prov. xxi. 5.\n\n[539] Prov. xxi. 20.\n\n[540] Prov. xxii. 29.\n\n[541] Prov. xii. 24.\n\n[542] Prov. xii. 27.\n\n[543] Prov. xxxi. 27.\n\n\n\n\n XXI.\n\n _WINE._\n\n \"He that loveth pleasure shall be a poor man:\n He that loveth wine and oil shall not be rich.\"\n PROV. xxi. 17.\n\n\nThe Septuagint translation has an interesting addition to the proverb in\nxii. 11. After \"He that tilleth his land shall have plenty of bread, but\nhe that followeth after vain persons is void of understanding,\" it adds,\n\"He who is sweet in pastimes of wine-drinking shall leave dishonour in\nhis strongholds.\" Drinking is the natural opposite of hard and honest\nwork. When the love of it takes possession of a man he is sure to become\na useless and unproductive member of society. A drunken people are in\nthe end an incapable people; their wealth declines, their industries\npass over to soberer rivals, their qualities of brain and muscle\ngradually disappear. This is partly owing to the deterioration of mind\nand body which results from the excessive use of stimulants; but it is\nstill more due to a wider cause: drinking in all its branches is\nindulged in as a pleasure. Why do we not admit it? why do we always try\nto present it in another light, saying that it is for health's sake, by\na doctor's orders; or for work's sake, by a proved necessity? Is it not\nthat we are secretly conscious of taking the drink because we like it?\nWe know it is a self-indulgence, and we are a little ashamed of it; and\nas self-indulgence is always fatal in the long run to all the habits and\nactivities which men very properly honour, we should dearly like to\nscreen it under a decent pretext which might preserve our self-respect.\nWe know quite well that \"he that loveth pleasure shall be a poor man; he\nthat loveth wine and oil shall not be rich.\"[544] Drinking is after all\nonly a pronounced symptom of a large vice--self-indulgence.\n\nA great step is taken when we have learnt to quietly and candidly face\nthis fact: we drink, as a society, as a nation,--each of us drinks in\npublic or in private,--simply because it is pleasant. It is a habit\ngoverned by one supreme and absolute law--_we like it_. We know quite\nwell that alcohol is not a food; that is proved by the most\nirrefragable scientific evidence; and if in alcoholic drinks there are\ncertain nutritive elements, we could if we chose secure the benefit of\nthem without any admixture of alcohol. We know that in many cases the\nalcohol is actually deleterious, that it produces specific and very\nterrible diseases, that it lowers the tone of the whole system and\nmakes us liable to all kinds of secondary troubles. We may urge that\nalcohol is a medicine, and a useful medicine; but it is not as a\nmedicine we use it. If a doctor prescribes castor-oil, or quinine, we\nthrow aside the medicine on the first opportunity, often before it has\ndone its work. Alcohol is the only medicine which we continue to take\nfor a lifetime because the doctor prescribed it for a month. Would it\nnot be better then to clear our minds of cant, and to set the whole\nmatter on its right basis? Intoxicants are drunk as a form, as the\nmost universal form, of self-indulgence. In some mysterious way, for\nsome mysterious reasons which we cannot fathom, they gratify an\ninstinctive appetite, they are naturally and generally attractive,\nthey exercise a spell over the physical system. If the taste is, as\nsome people say, acquired, it was acquired by mankind in prehistoric\ntimes, and is part of our inherited constitution as men. For instance,\nMr. Gaule, a police-court missionary in Birmingham, relates a recent\nexperience, one out of many in his fourteen years of labour. A young\nmarried woman, twenty-eight years of age, died a shocking death from\ndrinking. Up to the age of twenty-six she had been a teetotaller, and\ndid not know what the taste of drink was. She was a leading member of\nthe Gospel Temperance Mission, and sang the solos at the meetings.\nThen she was taken ill, the doctor ordered brandy, and it proved like\nthe first taste of blood to a tame tiger. She could never again be\nkept from it, and at last it killed her. The craving there must have\nbeen in the very blood.\n\nWe have a taste for these intoxicants, latent or realized. The\nstimulating influence is pleasant, the narcotic influence is pleasant.\nThe immediate effect on the body is pleasant, the immediate effect on\nthe mind is pleasant. Drink produces a sense of great self-satisfaction,\npromotes a flow of conversation and a feeling of good fellowship; it\nquickens at first several of our mental faculties; it excites the\nimagination, and carries its devotee far away from the actual, which is\npainful and harassing, into a kind of ideal world, which is cheerful\nand agreeable. So powerful is its temporary influence that in the \"words\nof King Lemuel\" there is positively a recommendation to \"give strong\ndrink unto him that is ready to perish, and wine unto the bitter in\nsoul; let him drink and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no\nmore.\"[545] An injunction which must not of course be mistaken for a\nDivine precept, but only for a reminder of the fact--a fact which may be\nobserved without any moral judgment being passed upon it--that while men\nwho require all their mental and moral faculties to be in full\nactivity[546] must eschew the use of intoxicating drinks, the dying, the\ndespairing, the very poor and miserable, may find a certain relief in\ndrinking. Men who are in the enjoyment of health, and wish to discharge\neffectively the day's duties, have no excuse for the employment of an\nagent which only serves to lull the mind into forgetfulness and to\nreduce the pain of consciousness to the lowest possible point.\n\nStrange to say, while men are thus naturally inclined to use\nintoxicants, nature has been most lavish in pandering to their tastes.\nThere are trees in tropical climates which have but to be gashed, and\nan intoxicating juice flows out ready at once for use. Almost every\nnatural juice ferments if it is left alone. The palm-tree, the\npotato-plant, the sugar-cane, beet-root, the cereals, as well as the\ngrape, yield readily these intoxicating drinks, at a surprisingly low\ncost. Very little human labour is needed, very simple apparatus will\nsuffice, so that a very few enterprising firms can deluge a whole\ncontinent with fiery intoxicants.\n\nWe drink because we like it,--not for our good, as we pretend, but\nfor our pleasure, as we are half ashamed to confess. The taste is\nnatural to us,--natural to savages, natural to civilised men, natural,\nso far as we know, to men of all climates and all races. And nature\nhas made it singularly easy to gratify the taste.\n\nNow one might almost suppose that the conclusion to be drawn would be,\n\"Let us drink, let us take this element as a good gift of God.\" And that\nwas the feeling of more primitive times. In the Vedas, for instance,\nIndra is praised as reeling with the intoxicating Soma which his\nworshippers have offered to him; drunkenness is regarded as a kind of\ninspiration. But no; as wisdom asserts herself, and demands a hearing,\nshe more and more decisively classes this taste for intoxicants with\ncertain other tastes which are natural to us, but none the less\ndangerous; and she treats the bountiful provision which nature has made\nfor the gratification of the taste as one of those innumerable\ntemptations with which men in this present life are surrounded,--in\nconflict with which they prove their manhood,--by victory over which\nthey acquire strength of moral principle and consistency in virtue.\n\nAs the reason within gathers power and authority, and as her clear\nlight is replenished by the revelation of Divine Wisdom, all the\nspurious attractions of drinking are weakened, the glamour is\ndestroyed, and the truth is recognised that \"wine is a mocker, strong\ndrink a brawler, and whosoever erreth thereby is not wise;\"[547] more\nand more it appears that the power of wine is the power of the animal\nwithin us, and that the widespread influence of it is a sign that the\nanimal within us dies slowly; we learn to measure the growth of reason\nby the degree of mastery which has been obtained over the low\nappetite; and we understand that striking antithesis of the New\nTestament religion, \"Be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess, but be\nfilled with the Spirit.\"\n\nThe way then in which we are brought to look at the drink question is\nthis: here is a powerful natural temptation, a seduction which nature\nherself offers to the body, a foe which always has a traitor in\ncollusion with it inside the assaulted citadel. This enemy is\ningenious in its argumentation: it approaches usually under the guise\nof a friend; it says--and not without truth--that it comes to give\npleasure to poor harassed and toilworn mortals; it persuades them that\nit is a wholesome food, and when that contention is shattered it would\nhave them believe that it is a medicine. When it has gained an\nentrance into the fortress, by fair means or foul, it at first\nproceeds very doucely, and seems to justify its presence by numberless\nobvious benefits. Sometimes it will successfully hide all the evil it\nis working, as if its purpose were to beguile new victims and to\nacquire a more unbounded sway over the old.\n\nAs religious men, as spiritual beings, whom God claims to become His\nchildren, we are called upon to face this subtle, powerful, and\nall-persuasive foe. We are to do our best to understand its ways--we\nlook to science to help us and to teach us. We are then to take every\nweapon within our reach to resist its approach,--argument, persuasion,\nentreaty; we are to lose no opportunity of unveiling the tactics of\nthe foe, and rousing those who are imperilled to a sense of their\ndanger; then as Christian citizens we are bound to use all the\ninfluence we possess to hold this terrible natural temptation within\nthe straitest limits, and to fortify all the powers of resistance in\nour fellow-men to the highest possible degree.\n\nIn such a crusade against the enemy of our race, few things are more\neffectual than a vivid and accurate delineation of the effects which\ndrink produces--such a delineation, for instance, as that which is\ngiven in chap. xxiii. 29-35. Let us proceed to examine this remarkable\npassage.\n\n\"Whose is Oh? whose is woe?\" asks the Teacher. Who is it whose\nconstant and appropriate language is that of lamentation--the piteous\ncry of pain, the agonised exclamation of remorse? \"Whose are\ncontentions?\" Who is it that lives in an atmosphere of perpetual\nstrife and loud quarrellings? \"Whose is groaning?\"--that sustained\nsigh of desponding and irremediable misery. \"Whose are causeless\nwounds?\"--not only the bruise and the gash which result from furious\nsparrings or unforeseen falls, but also wounds of the spirit,\nself-loathing, and shame, the thought of what might have been, the\nrealization of a ruined home, and of suffering wife and little ones,\nand the conviction that the evil can now never be undone. \"Whose is\nthe darkling of the eyes?\"[548] Who is it whose eyes have that\nhorrible inflamed, lack-lustre look, which is the exact opposite of\nthe light and clearness and sparkle proper to the human eye?\n\nThe answer to these questions is given in a sentence, \"Theirs who\ntarry over the wine, theirs who go to try the mixture.\" It is not of\ncourse suggested that all who drink wine, nor even all who take it\nhabitually, fall into the horrible condition which has just been\ndescribed; this condition is the result of lingering over the drink,\nspending hours in tippling, devoting time and thought to tasting\nvarious brands and samples, becoming a connoisseur of strong\nbeverages, allowing the subject to occupy an appreciable proportion of\none's time. It is not the use, but the abuse, of the thing which in\nthis passage is reprobated. But now we are reminded of the great\ndifficulty which occurs in distinguishing between the use and the\nabuse. There is no sharply-defined limit. There is no mechanical\nmonitor which at once reminds us, \"Here use ceases and abuse begins.\"\nAlmost the only rule that can be given is, that whenever the cup seems\nin the least degree attractive, then danger is near and it is\nnecessary to abstain. \"Look not on wine when it reddens, when it gives\nits gleam in the cup; it goes down so smoothly!\" It is the peculiarity\nof this substance that it can only be taken safely when it has\ncomparatively no attractions, when it is taken under orders, and as it\nwere against the grain. If it is really pleasant to us, we can never\ntell where the pleasantness melts into a dangerous fascination, where\nthe colour and the sparkle and the agreeable tingle which make it pass\nso easily down the throat have become the lure and the spell of a\npoisonous reptile. For this pleasant indulgence, which seems to be\nperfectly innocent, what is the issue of it? \"Its end--like a serpent\nit bites, and like a basilisk it stings.\" One evil result of it is\nthat it rouses into perilous activity the dormant passions; even pure\nmen and women under this potent influence become impure. The eyes\nwhich are excited with wine will turn readily to loose and degraded\nwomen.[549] The fall which might have been easily avoided in a state\nof sobriety will be inevitable when the reason is silenced, the will\nenfeebled, and the desire inflamed by this seductive poison.\n\nAnother evil effect is that the sense of truth entirely disappears.\nWhat a misleading maxim is that of the Romans, _In vino veritas!_\nWhile it is a fact that the intoxicated man will blab many things\nwhich were best kept concealed, there is nothing which deteriorates\ntruthfulness so rapidly as the use of alcohol. The drinker becomes\ncrafty and deceitful and untrustworthy. The miserable brain is haunted\nwith chim\u00e6ras, the imperious appetite suggests all kinds of\nsubterfuges and evasions, the very \"heart speaks frauds.\" Yes, nothing\ncould be more accurate than this: the effect of drink is not so much\nto make the lips lie, as to make the inner man essentially insincere\nand deceptive. No man admits that he is a drunkard, even to his own\nheart; long after all his friends know it, and are beginning to\ndespair of him, even when he has had several attacks of _delirium\ntremens_ and is a confirmed dipsomaniac, the most he will allow is\nthat he has sometimes taken a little more than is good for him, but so\nvery little seems to upset him. Ah, \"thine heart shall utter froward\nthings,\" _i.e._, frauds. Every one who has had any dealings with the\nmiserable victims of drink will sorrowfully confirm this statement.\n\nThe insecurity of the habit is incredible. It leads to the destruction\nof every faculty which God has mercifully given us to protect us from\ndanger and guide us through life. The ready perception of things is\nmarred, the quick rallying of the attention is delayed, the exercise\nof the understanding is prevented, the will is paralysed, the\nconscience dies. \"Thou shalt be as he who lieth down in the heart of\nthe sea,\"--as one in a calenture who strides into the merciless waves\nunder the impression that he is walking on flowery meadows. Thou shalt\nbe \"as he that goeth to bed on the mast's head,\"--where the position\nis precarious even if the sea be perfectly calm, but becomes sure\ndestruction if the winds awake and the ship begins to climb large\nbillows and to plunge down into their unquiet troughs.\n\nAnd then, worst of all, when there is a temporary recovery from this\nabominable state of drunkenness, and the feeble wails of repentance\nbegin to be heard, what can be more disconnected--more futile--more\nabject--more irrational than his words? \"They have smitten me,\" he\nsays; \"I have not been sick,\"--as if forsooth he were the victim of\nsome violence offered to him by others, instead of being the author of\nhis own stripes; as if he were quite right and well, and the disease\nwere not deep in his own passion-haunted heart. \"They have stricken\nme,\" he continues to whine, \"I have not known it.\" Footpads have\nattacked him, he would have us believe, and that is the explanation of\nhis begrimed and blood-smeared face, his torn clothes, and his empty\npockets. \"When shall I awake?\" he mutters, as the swimming sensation\nin the head, and the unsteady stagger in his step, remind him that he\nis not quite himself. And then--is it possible? Yes, his next remark\nis, \"I will seek it again.\" I will go and get another drink. His\nmiserable mind, the victim and the mint of lies, having persuaded him\nthat all the mischief came from some cause other than himself, and had\nnothing to do with the one degrading habit which really produced it,\nhe proposes at once to seek the very agent which is his undoing, to\nheal his intoxication by getting drunk again.[550]\n\nThis vivid and forcible picture of the miserable sufferings, the\ncontemptible vices, and the helpless bondage which result from\nintoxicating drinks, is all the more impressive because there is no\nattempt made to enforce total abstinence as a principle. If however it\nis duly considered and understood, it is very likely to produce total\nabstinence as a practice, just as the object lesson of the drunken\nhelot led every Spartan youth to turn with unspeakable loathing from\nthe embruting vice. Modest minds, observing how the mighty are\nfallen, how this one cause has ruined the strongest, the best, and\nthe most attractive of their fellow-creatures, insidiously leading\nthem on, mocking them, and luring them into dangerous and poisonous\nmarshes, will be inclined to say, as Daniel said, \"I will abstain; I\nmay be safe or I may not; if I am safe all I gain is a certain amount\nof animal pleasure; if I am not, what I lose is health, honour,\nwealth, even life itself,--not the body only, but the soul too.\" The\ngain from the use of these things is very measurable and\ninsignificant; the loss from their abuse is immeasurable, and the\npassage from use to abuse escapes at once our observation and control.\n\nBut, after all, wisdom urges temperance in drinking only as a part of\na much larger principle. If temperance in drinking stands alone and\nunconnected with this larger principle, it is a blessing of a very\ndoubtful kind, so doubtful indeed that the pharisaism, the\nintolerance, the dogmatism, which are able to subsist with\n\"Temperance\" in the limited sense, have often been the most serious\nhindrance to temperance in its larger and nobler meaning.\n\nIt is the desire of pleasure which is at the root of the mischief: \"He\nthat loveth pleasure shall be a poor man.\" Men are \"lovers of pleasure\nrather than lovers of God.\"[551] The appetites which are natural to us\nhold undisputed sway, they are fleshly; the great spiritual appetites,\nwhich are supernatural, are quite feeble and inoperative. Men ask for\nthat which is pleasant, and even when they become religious it is\nonly to obtain pleasure, a greater and a more lasting pleasure; thus\nthere is an intemperance, which we call fanaticism, even in religious\nbeliefs and in religious practices. But what men need is that the\ndesire of God, for His own sake, should be so inflamed in them as to\nburn up all other desires. And this desire can only be created by His\nHoly Spirit. The competing and manifold desires of pleasure can only\nbe mastered and expelled when that great, absorbing, and embracing\ndesire of God has been securely settled in the human heart by the Holy\nSpirit. True temperance is really one of the ninefold fruits of the\nSpirit, and is of little value, a mere spurious product, unless it is\naccompanied by love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness,\nfaithfulness, and meekness. Such passages as we have been considering\nin the book of Proverbs may give us a wholesome horror and hatred of\ndrunkenness, and may even lead us to a prudential temperance--they may\neven make us as sober as pious Mohammedans or Buddhists; but if we are\nto become really temperate a higher power must intervene, we must be\n\"born of the Spirit.\" Is it not remarkable how nothing short of the\nhighest remedy--the new birth--is effectual for curing even the\nslightest of human infirmities and sins?\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[544] Prov. xxi. 17.\n\n[545] Prov. xxxi. 6, 7.\n\n[546] Prov. xxxi. 4, 5.\n\n[547] Prov. xx. 1.\n\n[548] The difficulty of the word \u05d4\u05b7\u05db\u05b0\u05dc\u05b4\u05dc\u05d5\u05bc\u05ea, which means \"dimming,\" is\nthat in the only other place where it occurs (Gen. xlix. 12: \"His eyes\nshall be red with wine, and his teeth white with milk\") the redness is\nevidently regarded as an advantageous attribute. But perhaps the\nexplanation is to be sought in the fact that the immediate effect of\nwine upon the eye is to darken it in one sense, and the ultimate effect\nis to darken it in another. In the first moment of excitement the pupil\nof the drinker's eye dilates and flashes with a darkling fire; but it is\nnot long before the eye becomes heavy, dim, watery, and maudlin. It is\nin this last sense that we must understand the word here.\n\n[549] Prov. xxiii. 33. \u05d6\u05b8\u05e8\u05d5\u05ea must, as in xxii. 14, be rendered \"strange\nwomen\" (Bertheau). The alternative rendering, \"the strange, or the rare\"\n(Nowack) is logically inadmissible, because the verse is obviously\ndescribing the moral effects of drink, and no one can say that to see\nstrange or rare visions is a moral effect to be specially deprecated.\n\n[550] \"The primary discomforts of an act of drunkenness,\" says Dr. G.\nW. Balfour, \"are readily removed for the time by a repetition of the\ncause. Thus what has been an act may readily become a habit, all the\nmore readily that each repetition more and more enfeebles both the\nwill and the judgment.\"--Art. \"Drunkenness\" in _Encycl. Brit._\n\n[551] 2 Tim. iii. 4--\u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03ae\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bc\u1fb6\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u1f22 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03cc\u03b8\u03b5\u03bf\u03b9, pleasure-loving rather\nthan God-loving; which means, not that men place pleasure before them\nconsciously as a substitute for God, but only that the instinctive\ndesire of pleasure has not been mastered by the love of God.\n\n\n\n\n XXII.\n\n _THE TREATMENT OF THE POOR._\n\n \"The rich and the needy meet together; the Lord is the maker of\n them all.\"--PROV. xxii. 2.\n\n \"He that hath a bountiful eye shall be blessed, for he giveth of\n his bread to the poor.\"--PROV. xxii. 9.\n\n \"He that oppresseth the poor, it is for his increase; he that\n giveth to the rich, it is for want.\"--PROV. xxii. 16.\n\n \"Rob not the poor because he is poor, neither oppress the humble\n in the gate, for the Lord will plead their cause and despoil of\n life those that despoil them.\"--PROV. xxii. 22, 23.\n\n\nIf we would understand and lay to heart the very striking lessons of\nthis book on the treatment of the poor, it will be well for us to\nobserve that there are four words in the Hebrew original which are\nrendered by our English words \"poor\" or \"needy.\" These words we will try\nto discriminate and to use with more exactness in the present lecture,\nthat we may not miss any of the teaching by the blur and obscurity of\ncareless language. _First_, there is a word (\u05d3\u05b8\u05dc) for which we will\nreserve our English word \"poor\"; it signifies a person who is weak and\nuninfluential, but not necessarily destitute or even in want. The \"poor\"\nare those who form the vast majority of every society, and are sometimes\ndescribed by the word \"masses.\" _Secondly_, there is a word (\u05e8\u05b8\u05e9\u05c1) which\nmay be rendered \"needy.\" It covers those who are in actual want, people\nwho through bereavement, or infirmity, or unavoidable calamity are\nunable to secure a sufficiency of the necessaries of life. _Thirdly_,\nthere is a word (\u05e2\u05b8\u05e0\u05b4\u05d9) which we may perhaps render by \"humble,\" for\nthough it more literally describes the afflicted and sad, it contains\nwithin it a hint of moral commendation which suggests a transition from\nthe idea of simple weakness and helplessness to that of patient and\nhumble dependence on God. _Lastly_, there is a word (\u05d0\u05b6\u05db\u05b0\u05d9\u05d5\u05b9\u05df) which we\nwill render \"destitute.\" If we keep these notions--\"poor,\" \"needy,\"\n\"humble,\" \"destitute\"--distinct, and yet combined, to form one\nconception, we shall find that the proverbs before us refer to that\nlarge section of mankind who are in a worldly and material sense\nconsidered the least fortunate; those to whom it is a lifelong effort\nmerely to live; those who have no margin of security on which to fall\nback in case of disaster or sickness; those who are engaged in\nprecarious employments or in casual labour; those who may keep their\nheads above water by diligence and unremitting exertions, but may at any\ntime go under; those who owing to this constant pressure of the\nelementary needs have but little leisure to cultivate their faculties,\nand little opportunity to maintain their rights. We are to think of the\nlarge class of persons who in more primitive times are slaves, who in\nfeudal times are serfs, who in modern times are called the proletariate;\nthose in whose interest the laws of society have not hitherto been\nframed, because they have not until quite recently been admitted to any\nsubstantial share in the work of legislation; those who have always\nfound it peculiarly difficult to secure justice, because justice is a\ncostly commodity, and they have no means to spare, since \"the\ndestruction of the poor is precisely their poverty.\"[552] We are not to\nthink of the idle and the vicious, who are so often classed with the\npoor, because they, like the poor, are without means,--we must\nrigorously exclude these, for they are not in the mind of the writer\nwhen he gives us these golden precepts. We must remember that it is part\nof our peculiar English system, the result of our boasted Poor Law, to\ndiscredit the very word poverty, by refusing to discriminate between the\npoor in the scriptural sense, who are honourable and even noble, and the\npauper in the modern sense, who is almost always the scum of a corrupt\nsocial order, in four cases out of five a drunkard, and in the fifth\ncase the product of some one else's moral failings. It requires quite an\neffort for us to see and realize what the Scriptures mean by the poor.\nWe have to slip away from all the wretched associations of the Poor\nHouse, the Poor Law, and the Guardians. We have to bring before our\nminds a class which in a wholesome state of society would be a small,\nnumerable minority, but in our own unwholesome state of society are a\nlarge and well-nigh innumerable majority,--not only the destitute and\nthe actually needy, but all the people who have no land on which to\nlive, no house which they can call their own, no reserve fund, no\npossibility of a reserve fund, against the unavoidable calamities and\nchances of life, the people who are trodden down--who tread each other\ndown--in the race of competition; all those, too, who, according to the\ngodless dogma of the day, must go to the wall because they are weak, and\nmust give up the idea of surviving because only the fittest must expect\nto survive. There rise up before our imagination the toiling millions of\nEurope--of England--worn, pale, despondent, apathetic, and resigned; or\nbitter, desperate, and resentful; not destitute, though they include the\ndestitute; not needy, though they include the needy; but poor, without\nstrength except in combination, and often when combined without light or\nleading.\n\nI. Now the first thing we have to observe is that _the poor_, in the\nsense we have tried to define, are a special concern to the Lord. \"Rob\nnot the poor,\" says the text, \"because he is poor, neither oppress the\nhumble in the gate, for the Lord will plead their cause, and despoil\nof life those that despoil them.\" \"Remove not the ancient landmark,\nand enter not into the fields of the fatherless; for their Redeemer is\nstrong, He shall plead their cause against thee.\"[553] \"The Lord will\nestablish the border of the widow.\"[554] So intimate is the connection\nbetween the Lord and His poor creatures that \"he that oppresseth the\npoor reproacheth his Maker, but he that hath mercy on the destitute\nhonoureth Him.\"[555] \"Whoso mocketh the needy reproacheth his Maker,\nand he that is glad at calamity shall not be unpunished.\"[556] On the\nother hand, \"He that hath pity on the poor lendeth unto the Lord, and\nhis good deed will He pay him again.\"[557]\n\nNot, of course, that there is any favouritism with God, not that He\nhas an interest in a man because of his means or lack of means; but\njust because of His large and comprehensive impartiality. \"The needy\nman and the oppressor meet together; the Lord lighteneth the eyes of\nthem both.\"[558] \"The rich and the needy meet together, the Lord is\nthe Maker of them all.\"[559] His special interest in the poor arises\nonly from their special need, from the mute cry which goes up to Him,\nfrom the appeal to Him as their only friend, deliverer, and protector:\njust as His lesser interest in the rich arises from their\nself-satisfied independence of Him, from their infatuated trust in\nthemselves, and from their conviction that already all things belong\nto them. We should make a mistake if we supposed that the Lord\nrecognises any class distinctions, or that He valued a man because he\nis poor, just as we value a man because he is rich. The truth rather\nis that He absolutely ignores the class distinctions, regarding the\nmingled mass of human beings, rich and poor, oppressor and oppressed,\nas on a plane of dead equality, and then distinguishing between them\non a totally different principle,--on a moral, a spiritual principle;\nand, if there is any preference, it is on the ground of certain\nvaluable moral effects which poverty sometimes produces that He takes\nthe poor into His peculiar and tender care, honouring them with so\nclose a friendship that service to them becomes service to Him.\n\nThis is certainly good news to the masses. \"You are undistinguished,\nand unobserved,\"--the voice of wisdom seems to say,--\"In this world,\nwith its false distinctions and perverted ideals, you feel at a\nconstant disadvantage. You dare hardly claim the rights of your\nmanhood and your womanhood. This great personage, possessing half a\ncity, drawing as much unearned money every day as you can earn by\nunremitting toil in fifteen or twenty years, seems to overshadow and\nto dwarf you. And there are these multitudes of easy, comfortable,\nresplendent persons who live in large mansions and dress in costly\ngarments, while you and your family live in a couple of precarious\nrooms at a weekly rental, and find it all you can do to get clean and\ndecent clothes for your backs. These moneyed people are held in much\nestimation; you, so far as you know, are held in none. Their\ndoings--births, marriages, deaths--create quite a stir in the world;\nyou slip into the world, through it, and out of it, without attracting\nany attention. But be assured things wear a different appearance from\nthe standpoint of God. Realize how you and your fellow-men appear to\nHim, and you at once recover self-respect, and hold up your head in\nHis presence as a man. That simple truth which the Ayrshire peasant\nsang[560] you may take as God's truth, as His revelation; it is the\nway in which He habitually thinks of you.\"\n\nHow the scales seem to fall away from one's eyes directly we are\nenabled to see men and things as God sees them! The sacred worth of\nhumanity shines far brighter than any of its tinsel trappings. We\nlearn to estimate ourselves aright, undisturbed and unabashed by the\nfalse estimates which are current in the world. Our true distinction\nis that we are men, that we belong to a race which was made in the\nimage of God, was dear to His heart, and is redeemed by His love. The\nequality we claim for men is not a levelling down--it is quite the\nreverse; it is raising them up to the higher level which they have\ndeserted and forgotten; it is teaching them to live as men,\ndistinguished not by their accidental circumstances or possessions,\nbut by their manhood itself. It is giving men self-respect instead of\nself-esteem, teaching them not to vaunt themselves as one against\nanother, but to claim their high and honourable title, one and all, as\nthe sons of God.\n\nII. But now it follows that, if the Lord Himself espouses the cause of\nthe poor, and even identifies Himself with them, ill-treatment of\nthem, injustice to them, or even a wilful neglect of them and\ndisregard of their interests, must be a sin, and a very terrible sin.\n\"He that despiseth his neighbour sinneth; but he that hath pity on the\nhumble, happy is he.\"[561]\n\nIn the East to this day the proverb, \"He that withholdeth corn, the\npeople shall curse him; but blessing shall be upon the head of him\nthat selleth it,\"[562] has its full significance. But even in the\nWest, where the name of Christ is borne by the nations, it is a common\nthing for one or two greedy and selfish capitalists to form a\n\"corner\"--as the commercial slang of the day denominates it--in some\narticle of industry, _i.e._, to secure all the raw material in the\nmarket, and to hold it until a famine price can be demanded.\nMeanwhile, the mills are idle, the looms are silent, the workpeople\nare unemployed, and their families suffer. Our moral sense is not yet\nsufficiently cultivated to condemn this hideous selfishness as\nseverely as it deserves, and to regard the perpetrators of it as\nenemies of the human race. \"The people curse\" them, that is all. But\nas we have seen that the cause of the wage-earners is the cause of the\nLord, we may rest quite confident that He to whom vengeance belongs\nenters every action of the kind in His unerasable accounts, and\nreserves the inevitable punishment for these \"oppressors of the poor.\"\n\n\nThere is another evil of modern industrial life which is alluded to in\nthe Proverbs before us. No oppression of the poor is more terrible\nthan that which is exercised by those who themselves are needy. The\nsystem which results from necessity of this kind is termed \"sweating.\"\nThe hungry contractor undertakes the job at the lowest possible price,\nand secures his profit by getting hungrier and weaker creatures than\nhimself to do the work at a price lower than possible, literally at\nstarvation wages. What force, then, to modern ears is there in the\nsaying, \"A needy man that oppresseth the poor is like a sweeping rain\nwhich leaveth no food\"![563]\n\nThe Divine oversight of these industrial abuses is not, as we\nsometimes suppose, pretermitted. Wisdom and Justice and Love hold the\nreins, and though the rapacity and cupidity of men seem to have a wide\nrange, they are inevitably pulled up in the end, if not in this\npartial and transient life, yet in that long Eternity through which\nthe Eternal will work out His purposes. As He Himself sides with the\npoor and pities them, and turns with indignation against their\noppressors, it follows necessarily that \"he that augments his\nsubstance by usury and increase gathereth it for him that pities the\npoor.\"[564] In fact, the merciful and pitiful nature has all the\nforces that rule the universe on its side, notwithstanding appearances\nto the contrary: \"The merciful man doeth good to his own soul, but he\nthat is cruel troubleth his own flesh.\"[565]\n\nIt is the strange paradox of all selfishness that the selfish man is\nreally quite blind to his own true interests. He most conscientiously\nlives for himself, and seeks his own good, but the good he sought\nproves to be his evil, and of all his innumerable foes he finds at\nlast that he himself is the worst. The selfish man is always coming to\nwant, while the unselfish man whose whole thought has been for others\nis richly provided for. \"He that giveth unto the needy shall not\nlack, but he that hideth his eyes shall have many a curse.\"[566]\n\"There is that scattereth and increaseth yet more, and there is that\nwithholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth only to want.\"[567]\n\n\"He that hideth his eyes shall have many a curse!\" Yes, nothing is\nmore striking than this truth, that not only positive oppression of\nthe poor, but mere indifference to their state, mere neglect of their\nsufferings, involves us in sin. There are many who can honestly say\nthat they have not deliberately wronged their fellow-men, and will on\nthat ground plead innocent; but that is not enough. We are as members\none of another responsible in a degree for all the injustice and\ncruelty which are practised in the society to which we belong. If we\nare drawing an income from invested money, we are responsible for the\ncruel exactions of excessive work, for the heartless disregard of life\nand limb, and for the constant under-payment of the workers which\nmakes the dividends so princely.[568] Nay, when we buy and use the\ncheap goods, which are cheap because they have been made at the cost\nof health and happiness and life to our brothers and our sisters,\ntheir blood is upon our heads, though we choose to forget it. For\nlisten--\"Whoso stoppeth ears at the cry of the poor,\" whoso tries to\nignore that there is a labour question, and that the cry for increased\nor even regular wages, and for tolerable homes, and wholesome\nconditions of work, is a reality, and in form of unions, or strikes,\nor low wails of despair, is addressed to us all--\"he shall cry and\nshall not be heard.\"[569] Such is the inexorable law of God. And\nagain: \"Deliver those that are carried away unto death,\"--those who\nare sacrificing the sweetness of life, the sap of the bones, the\nhealth of the marrow, to the ruthless exigencies of the industrial\nmachine; \"and those tottering to slaughter see thou hold back,\"--not\nleaving them to \"dree their own sad weird,\" helpless and unregarded.\n\"If thou say, Behold we knew not this man,\"--how could we make\nourselves acquainted with all the toiling masses of the city by whose\nlabour we lived and were maintained in comfort?--\"Doth not He that\nweigheth the hearts consider it; and He that keepeth thy soul, doth\nnot He know it, and shall not He render to every man according to his\nwork?\"[570] That is to say, if we plead, \"When saw we Thee ahungred,\nor athirst, or sick and in prison, and came not to Thee?\" our Lord\nwill say, \"Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye\ndid it not to Me.\" And we \"shall go away\" into everlasting punishment,\nwhile the righteous go into life eternal.\n\nIII. For it follows, from the whole consideration of this subject,\nthat those who make their life a ministry to the poor obtain a\nblessing,--yes, the only true and permanent blessing that life is\ncapable of yielding. \"He that hath a bountiful eye shall be blessed;\nfor he giveth of his bread to the poor.\"[571] The very form of the\nsaying is significant. Does it not imply: \"It is obvious that to give\nour bread to the poor is a blessing to ourselves, so obvious that it\nneeds only to be stated to be admitted, and therefore, as the\nbountiful eye, the philanthropic observation, the readiness to see\nsuffering and to search out the sufferers, necessarily leads to this\ngenerous distribution, it must be a blessing to its possessor.\"\nIndeed, this is a true test of righteousness, as the Lord teaches in\nthe parable just quoted. It is \"the righteous that takes knowledge of\nthe cause of the poor, while the wicked understands not to know\nit.\"[572] A religion which takes no knowledge of the masses is a\nfalse religion; a Church and a Ministry which \"understand not to know\"\nthe condition of the people and the needs of the poor are not Christ's\nChurch and Christ's Ministry, but flagrantly apostate; and nothing is\nplainer than this--that from such a Church and Ministry He will accept\nno orthodoxy of belief or valiant defence of the creed in lieu of\nobedience to all His plain and unmistakable commandments.\n\nIf we look at governments, the test is practically the same. \"The king\nthat faithfully judgeth the poor, his throne shall be established for\never.\"[573] And it is because the Messianic King, alone of all\nsovereigns and governments, rightly and fully understands and\nmaintains the cause of the poor, that He alone of sovereigns shall be\nestablished for ever, and of the increase of His government there\nshall be no end. And for the flagrant neglect of this vital question\non the part of all governing persons and assemblies, that King will\ncall to account those pompous and wordy magnates who have borne the\nsword in vain, considering all interests rather than those of the\npoor, whom they were specially appointed to judge; and of the needy,\nto whose succour they were peculiarly bound to run.\n\nAnd what holds in the state holds in the family. The virtuous woman, and\nhead of the household--she whom God can approve and welcome into\neverlasting habitations--is emphatically not she who is always striving\nfor social aggrandisement, always seeking for her children wealthy\nsettlements and spurious honours; but is one who \"spreadeth out her hand\nto the poor, yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.\"[574]\n\nWell may we try to take God's view of this question, to understand what\nHe means by the poor, and how He regards them, and how He expects us to\ntreat them. For this, if it is not the secret and the centre of all true\nreligious life, is at least the infallible test of whether our religious\nlife is true or not. By our treatment of His poor, the Son of Man, who\nis to judge the world, declares that we shall be judged. \"By that we\nshall be condemned or by that we shall be acquitted.\"\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[552] Prov. x. 15.\n\n[553] Prov. xxiii. 10, 11.\n\n[554] Prov. xv. 25.\n\n[555] Prov. xiv. 31.\n\n[556] Prov. xvii. 5.\n\n[557] Prov. xix. 17.\n\n[558] Prov. xix. 13.\n\n[559] Prov. xxii. 2.\n\n[560]\n\n \"What though on hamely fare we dine,\n Wear hoddin-grey, and a' that;\n Gie fools their silks and knaves their wine,\n A man's a man for a' that.\n For a' that and a' that,\n Their tinsel show and a' that,\n The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor,\n Is king o' men for a' that.\"\n\n[561] Prov. xiv. 21.\n\n[562] Prov. xi. 26. The following description of Persia, in the\n_Missionary Review of the World_, October, 1889, p. 782, aptly\nillustrates the practices against which the text inveighs:--\"The sole\nend for which the Persian Government exists is the collection of the\nrevenue, the fleecing of the people. Large portions of the land,\nconfiscated from time to time, belong to the Sovereign, and are farmed\nout on terms well-nigh ruinous to the tenant. Even where property\nbelongs to the subject, it is taxed to the last degree as a\nstarting-point, while the successions of sub-rulers and collectors\nmake still further drains upon the moiety that must save the\nlabourer's family from absolute want. The whole burden of taxation\nthus comes really upon the labouring class. Added to this extortion is\nthe constant uncertainty as to whether the planter will be permitted\nto reap his crop at all. Downright robbery of fields or households by\nthe retainers of petty chiefs is of frequent occurrence, and the poor\nare liable any day to be deprived of their very last resource.\nAgriculture and other industries so discouraged and paralysed barely\nsustain the lives of the people at the best, and when drought is added\nthousands must perish.\" In times of scarcity, \"The king sets the\nexample--_locks up his granaries, and withholds every kernel of wheat\nexcept at famine prices_. Every nabob and landowner who has a stock on\nhand follows this example. Rapacity and cupidity rule; money is coined\nout of the sufferings of the poor.\"\n\n[563] Prov. xxviii. 3. Oddly enough the commentators, who seem never\nto have heard of \"sweating,\" propose to read for \u05e8\u05b8\u05e9\u05c1, either \u05e2\u05b8\u05e9\u05b4\u05c1\u05d9\u05e8\n= rich, or \u05e8\u05e9\u05c1 = \u05e8\u05b9\u05d0\u05e9 = head, for the head of the State; an example of\nconjectural emendation which may well make us cautious of the mere\nscholar's method of treating the sacred text.\n\n\"The cruellest landlords, receiving 10, 20, and 30 per cent. from\ndetestable habitations (in London), are nearly connected by birth and\ncircumstance to those they oppress\" (_Lecture delivered at Essex\nHall_, November 18th, 1889, _by Thomas Locke Worthington_).\n\n[564] Prov. xxviii. 8. The difficult verse Proverbs xxii. 16 should\nfind a place here, \"He that oppresses the poor to increase for him, he\nthat gives to the rich only for need,\" but it is impossible to\naccurately determine its meaning. If the rendering of the English\nBible is correct, we may interpret the proverb as a statement of the\nfolly of oppression which leads to want as inevitably as the more\nobvious folly of giving to the rich. But possibly Nowack is right in\nan interpretation which gives quite another turn to the saying, and\nmakes it not a condemnation of the oppressor, but a suggestion of the\nadvantage which may be gained from the oppression by the oppressed.\n\"He who oppresses the poor--it turns to his (viz., the poor man's)\ngain,\" because it calls out all his energy and endurance, \"while he\nwho gives to the rich--it turns only to want,\" because it still\nfurther enervates and unfits him for the duties of life. This is not\nvery satisfactory, and is decidedly far-fetched; but it is better than\nDelitzsch's suggestion, which strips the proverb of all moral\nsignificance, viz., \"He that oppresses the poor, it is at any rate for\nhis own gain; but he who gives to the rich, it is only to get want.\"\nThe conclusion from this would be, that it is better to oppress the\npoor than to give to the rich, a sentiment quite out of harmony with\nthe ethical teaching of the Proverbs. In a case like this we can only\nsuppose that the saying has reached us in a mutilated form.\n\n[565] Prov. xi. 17.\n\n[566] Prov. xxviii. 27.\n\n[567] Prov. xi. 24.\n\n[568] Can the shareholders of the G. W. R., for instance, hold\nthemselves free from responsibility in the case referred to in the\nfollowing paragraph from the _Journal of the People's Palace_? \"The\n_Saturday Review_, always trustworthy and read-worthy on subjects of\nlaw, calls attention to a case which concerns a great many. It is a\ncase in which the decision is most unfortunate to the interests of all\nworking men. One Membery was employed at Paddington to shunt trunks:\nhe was taken on by a contractor, but his real employers were the\nG.W.R. The trucks were drawn by a horse, and the horse ought to have\nhad a boy to hitch on or off at a moment's notice: but the contractor\nrefused to supply boys. Membery in vain asked for one, pointing out\nthe great dangers to which he was exposed. He complained on the very\nday of the accident by which he was knocked down and injured\nseriously. He sued the Company; he won his case with damages; the\nCompany, being a rich body, appealed. Now, considering the vexation,\nthe anxiety, and the expense of carrying on such a case, a Company\nwhich appeals ought in justice to have the damages doubled if it\nloses. The Company lost. They appealed to the Lords, still on the\nprinciple of being rich and their opponent poor. This time the Company\nwon. The Lords have ruled that the Company did not employ Membery, and\nthat he was not obliged to work without a boy: he might have refused\nto work at all. Indeed! Then, if he refused to work, what about the\nchildren at home? A more mischievous doctrine was never upheld. Why,\nthere are thousands and thousands of men and women who work daily\nunder ineffectual protest,--who work at trades unwholesome, for wages\ninefficient, and for excessive hours; yet they work because they\nmust--because they must. Membery worked without a boy, knowing that he\nwould some day be run over and perhaps killed, because he must: he had\nno choice. When all the Trade Unions are merged into one immense Trade\nUnion, it will not be the wages alone that will be determined, but the\ncases of such unfortunate men as Membery.\"\n\n[569] Prov. xxi. 13.\n\n[570] Prov. xxiv. 11, 12.\n\n[571] Prov. xxii. 9.\n\n[572] Prov. xxix. 7.\n\n[573] Prov. xxix. 14. Has William II. of Germany been considering this\ntext? If so, it is full of promise for the prosperity of Germany and\nof Europe? (International Labour Conference, March 1890.)\n\n[574] Prov. xxxi. 30.\n\n\n\n\n XXIII.\n\n _EDUCATION: THE PARENT'S THOUGHT OF THE\n CHILD._\n\n \"Train up a child according to his way, and even when he is old he\n will not depart from it.\"--PROV. xxii. 6.\n\n \"Withhold not correction from the child; if thou beat him with the\n rod he shall not die. Thou shalt beat him with the rod and shalt\n deliver his soul from Sheol.\"--PROV. xxiii. 13, 14.\n\n\nIn Lecture IV. we examined two of the main principles which should be\ninculcated on children in a Christian home. In the present lecture we\napproach the question of education again. It is necessary for us to\nexamine two features of parental training on which the book of\nProverbs lays repeated stress. First, the need of method in bringing\nup the young; and second, the way of punishing their delinquencies.\n\nIn the first we have an eternal principle, which applies and must\napply as long as human nature endures, a principle which is even\nemphasized by the demands of our Christian faith. In the second we\nhave a principle which is so modified and altered by the Christian\nspirit, that unless we make the largest allowance for the change, it\nmay be, as it often has been, misleading and hurtful in a high degree.\nIf we could trace out all the dark cruelties and injustice, the\nvindictiveness, the stupidity of parents, guardians, and teachers,\nwho have sheltered themselves under the authority of the text,\n\"Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of\ncorrection shall drive it far from him,\"[575] we might read with a new\napplication our Saviour's stern censure of accepting the letter of\nScripture in place of coming to Him and learning of Him who is meek\nand lowly of heart.[576]\n\nBut our first duty is to understand the wholesome and eternally valid\nteaching that is here given us about education. \"Train up a child in\nthe way he should go.\" We gain a good deal in vividness if we go back\nto the meaning of the word which is rendered \"train.\" Derived from a\nnoun which signifies the palate and the inner part of the mouth, its\nliteral meaning is \"to put into the mouth.\" The metaphor suggested is\nthat of feeding an infant. Every parent recognises the necessity of\ngiving to the helpless children suitable nourishment. At first the\nmother feeds the babe at the breast. After the weaning she still feeds\nit with food carefully chosen and prepared. As the child grows older\nshe changes the food, but she does not relax her care; and the father\nadmits the responsibility of procuring the necessary diet for his\nlittle one, a responsibility which does not cease until the child is\nfully grown, fully formed, and fully able to provide for himself. Here\nis the suitable analogy for mental, moral, and spiritual teaching. The\nparents must feed their child with morsels suitable to his age, with\nthe \"milk of the word\" at first, afterwards with strong meat. It all\nrequires infinite care and forethought and wisdom, for there is a\ncertain way of development, a certain ideal which the child must\nrealize, and if the training is to be on the lines of that\ndevelopment, according to that \"way,\" if it is to achieve that ideal,\nthe teaching must all be accurately adapted to the age or stage of\ndevelopment, and to the particular character and disposition of the\nchild. If the preliminary work of the parents is wisely done, if the\ninfluence exercised by them while their child is still entirely in\ntheir hands is exactly what it ought to be, there is no fear for the\nrest of life--\"when he is old he will not depart from it.\" A great\nmaster of modern literature, who wandered through many ways of thought\nfar from the opinions and faith of his parents, when in his old age he\nsat down to write the reminiscences of his life, discovered that the\noriginal bent given to his mind by his peasant parents had remained\nunexhausted to the end.[577] Many beliefs currently held had faded and\ngrown dim, much of the historical foundation of his religion had\ncrumbled away, but there was a truth which he had learned from his\nmother's lips and had seen exemplified in his father's life, and it\nreturned to him in its full force, and remained unsubmerged in the\ntides of doubt, unaffected by the breath of change, it even acquired a\nfresh hold upon him in the decline of his days:--The chief end of man\nis to glorify God and to enjoy Him for ever.\n\nIt is a good illustration of the unrivalled power of the parents over\na man's life. \"The Lord hath given the father honour over the\nchildren, and hath confirmed the authority of the mother over the\nsons,\" says Ecclesiasticus.[578] It is a rare opportunity which is\ngiven to parents. No sphere of influence which they may acquire can be\nlike it; it may be wider, but it can never be so intense or so\ndecisive. A father who abdicates the throne on which God has set him,\nwho foregoes the honour which God has given him, or turns it into\ndishonour, must one day answer for his base renunciation before the\nEternal Father. A mother who uses the authority over her sons which\nGod has given her, merely to gratify her own vanity and selfishness,\nand to retain a love which she has ceased to deserve; or one who\nwantonly throws away the authority because its exercise makes large\ndemands upon the spirit, has much to answer for at the Divine\njudgment-seat. Parental powers are so absolute, parental possibilities\nare so great, parental joys are so rare and wonderful, that they must\nof necessity be balanced by corresponding disadvantages in case of\nfailure. \"He that begetteth a fool doeth it to his sorrow, and the\nfather of a fool hath no joy.\"[579] \"A foolish son is a grief to his\nfather, and bitterness to her that bare him.\"[580] It must therefore\nconstantly press upon all wise parents, how are they to act, what\nmethods are they to adopt, in order to rightly discharge their duties,\nand to win that precious reward of \"a wise son\"?[581] \"My son, if thy\nheart be wise, my heart shall be glad, even mine, yea, my reins shall\nrejoice when thy lips speak right things.\" \"The father of the\nrighteous shall greatly rejoice, and he that begetteth a wise child\nshall have joy of him.\"[582]\n\nThe answer which is constantly suggested by the book of Proverbs, and\nespecially by our text, is this:--A successful parent will be one who\nmakes the training of the children a constant and religious study. It\nis the last subject in the world to be left to haphazard. From the\nfirst a clear aim must be kept in view. \"Is my great object that this\nboy shall be a true, a noble, a God-fearing man, serving his day and\ngeneration in the way God shall appoint? Is this object purged of all\nmeaner thought? Can I renounce the idea of worldly success for him,\nand be indifferent to wealth and reputation, to comfort and ease for\nhim?\" When this question is satisfactorily settled, then comes a\nsecond, How is the aim to be realized? Is not the parent at once\ndriven to God with the cry, \"Who is sufficient for these things?\" A\nmistake may be so fatal, and it is so hard to clearly see, to rightly\njudge, to firmly act, that nothing can avail but the direct teaching,\ninspiration, and power of the Spirit of God. Happy are the father and\nthe mother who have been forced in their helplessness to seek that\nDivine help from the very first!\n\nIf we only knew it, all education is useless apart from the Spirit of\nGod. \"Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.\" And liberty is\njust what is most needed. Mechanical schemes, cut-and-dried precepts,\nare quite insufficient. Moving in the liberty of the Spirit you have\ninsight and adaptiveness; at once you perceive that each child is a\nseparate study, and must be approached in a different way. One is\nsanguine and over-confident, and he must constantly be humbled; another\nis diffident and desponding, and must be encouraged with the bright word\nof sympathy, spoken at the right moment. \"I see it all, my child; I\nknow what a fight it is in which you are engaged.\"[583] One is a born\nsceptic, and would know the reason why; he must be met with patient and\ncomprehending arguments according to his mental powers. Another has no\nspeculative instincts, and questions have to be raised, doubts\nsuggested, in order to save him from drifting into the easy-going\nacceptance of everything which he is told. One seems naturally inclined\nto be religious, and must be carefully watched lest the sensitiveness\nshould become morbid, and a dominant thought should lead to mania,\nmelancholy, or a possible reaction. Another seems to have no religious\ninstinct, and the opportunity must be sought for awaking the sense of\nneed, rousing the conscience, opening the eyes to God.\n\nBut again, in proportion as parents are led by the Spirit, and make\ntheir sacred charge a matter of constant and beseeching prayer, they\nwill in their own person and conduct represent God to the children,\nand so supplement all the possible defects of the express training and\ndiscipline. If the command \"Be thou in the fear of the Lord all the\nday long\"[584] is to have any weight with a child, he must live with\nthose who themselves are in the fear of the Lord all the day long. A\nman must live near to God if he is to make God real to his children. A\nmother must hold very real converse with her Lord if His reality is to\nbecome obvious to her little ones. \"As a child,\" says one,[585] \"I\nalways had a feeling that God and Jesus were such particular friends\nof mamma's, and were honoured more than words could tell.\" If such an\nimpression is to be created, depend upon it God and Jesus must _be_\nparticular friends of yours. No talk, however pious, can create that\nimpression unless the hallowed friendship actually exists.\n\nAgain, led by the Spirit, we are filled with Divine love; and no\ntraining of children can have any valuable or permanent effect which\ndoes not issue from, which is not guided by, and does not result in,\nlove. For love is the Divine educator. It is this which accounts for the\nfrequently observed anomaly that children who seem to have inferior home\nadvantages and very inadequate education turn out better than others for\nwhom no labour or expense or care seems to be grudged. If love is not\nthere, all the efforts will fail. Love is the only atmosphere in which\nthe spirits of little children can grow. Without it the wisest precepts\nonly choke, and the best-prepared knowledge proves innutritious. It must\nbe a large love, a wise love, an inclusive love, such as God alone can\nshed abroad in the heart. Love of that kind is very frequently found in\n\"huts where poor men lie,\" and consequently the children issuing out of\nthem have been better trained than those whose parents have handed them\nover to loveless tutors or underlings.\n\nAnd this may perhaps fitly lead us to consider the other point which\nis before us--the prominence which is, in the Proverbs, given to\nchastisement. \"He that spareth his rod hateth his son, but he that\nloveth him, chasteneth him betimes.\"[586] \"Chasten thy son, seeing\nthere is hope, and set not thy heart on his destruction.\"[587]\n\"Stripes that wound are a cleansing of evil, strokes of the recesses\nof the belly.\"[588] \"Withhold not correction from the child; when thou\nbeatest him with a rod he shall not die. Thou shalt beat him with the\nrod, and shalt deliver his soul from Sheol.\"[589] \"The rod and reproof\ngive wisdom, but a child left to himself causeth shame to his\nmother.\"[590] \"Correct thy son and he shall give thee rest, yea, he\nshall give delight unto thy soul.\"[591]\n\nCorporal punishment seems to the Christian, and to the common sense of\na society which is the product of the Christian spirit, degrading,\nbrutalising, and essentially futile! It can only have even a modicum\nof good effect where it is inflicted by a loving hand, and in a loving\nspirit, without a trace of temper or cruelty, and obviously costing\nmore to inflict than to bear. But even with all these conditions\ngranted it is a most unsatisfactory method of punishment; it arouses\nvindictive feelings and savage passions. A whipped boy is almost sure\nto bully the next creature weaker than himself that he encounters; and\nacting only as a deterrent, it never reaches the conscience, or\ncreates a sense of revolt from the sin for the sin's sake, which is\nthe object of all wise, or at least of all paternal, punishment. We\ncan only, therefore, set aside the precept to use the rod as one which\nwas in harmony with darker and harder times before the Saviour of the\nworld had come to reveal the inner life and to teach us how we are to\ndeal with those mysterious and wonderful beings, our fellow-creatures.\n\nBut with this modification, and substituting \"wise and merciful\npunishments\" for \"rod and stripes,\" these teachings remain of\npermanent validity. Our Heavenly Father chastens His children; by most\ngracious punishments He brings home to them the sense of sin, and\nleads them to repentance and amendment.[592] And earthly parents, in\nproportion as they are led by the Spirit and filled with love, will\ncorrect their children, not for their own pleasure, but for their\nchildren's good. The truth which underlies these apparently harsh\ninjunctions is this: Love inflicts punishments, nor are any\npunishments so severe as those which Love inflicts; and only the\npunishments which Love inflicts are able to reform and to save the\ncharacter of the delinquent.\n\nWe all of us know that weak and sentimental nature--too common among\nmodern parents--which shrinks from inflicting pain under all\ncircumstances. Seizing on the ill-understood doctrine that Love is the\nsovereign power in life and in education, it pleads in the name of\nLove that the offender may be spared, that he may escape the due\npenalty of his fault. That is not a love like God's love: and if you\nare careful to observe, it has not the remedial or saving effect which\nthe love of God has. \"He that declines to punish his child hates him;\nhe that loveth him chasteneth him betimes.\" In the poor child's heart\nso much foolishness is bound up, so much wilfulness and temper, so\nmuch vanity and pride, so much sensuality and selfishness, so much\nunwholesome craving for amusement, it is so natural to the child to\nmake pleasure the be-all and the end-all of life, that, if all this\nfoolishness is to be driven away, there must be much sharp discipline\nand painful correction. The Divine method of punishment seems to be to\nlet men eat of the fruit of their doings until they loathe it. They\nrebelliously call out for meat in the wilderness, and it turns into a\nsatiety, a bitterness, and a plague, while it is between their teeth.\nIs it possible that parents too, under the guidance of the Spirit, may\nchasten their children in the same way, bringing home to the wilful\nthe painful effects of wilfulness, to the vain the ridiculous effects\nof vanity, to the selfish the disastrous issue of selfishness, to the\nsensual the ruin and the misery of sensuality? Might not the most\neffectual punishment for every fault be an enforced quiet in which the\nculprit is confronted with the inevitable outcome of the sin? Does not\neven the hardest heart begin to melt, does not the dullest conscience\nbegin to grow sensitive, when the sure results of evil are aptly\npourtrayed before the mind? What pride would have courage to grow if\nit had a glimpse of the hard, dry, loveless, unloved, heart which is\nits inevitable fruit? What young man would venture to take the first\ndownward steps in impurity if he had ever formed a conception of the\ndevastation of brain and heart and life which must ensue?\n\nThe rod cannot open the eyes; it can but set the cunning intellect to\nwork to find a way of enjoying the sin and escaping the rod. But the\nopening of the eyes--at which all true punishment must aim--reveals a\nrod which is bound up with the sin, sure as the sin itself. It is the\nparents' solemn task--and many an inward sorrow must it cost--to bring\nhome to his child's heart these truths of experience which the child\ncannot at present know. Wise penalties and \"reproof give wisdom, but\na child left to himself causeth shame to his mother.\"[593]\n\nThere is a voice, the voice of Divine Wisdom, which speaks continually\nto every parent, to every teacher of youth: \"Incline thine ear,\" it\nsays, \"and hear the words of the wise, and apply thy heart unto my\nknowledge\"--without attention and application this heavenly wisdom\ncannot be known. \"For it is a pleasant thing,\" so the voice continues,\n\"if thou keep these words within thee, if they be established together\nupon thy lips. That thy trust may be in the Lord,\"--without whom the\nbest-meant efforts will fail,--\"I have made them known to thee this day,\neven to thee. Have not I written to thee excellent things of counsels\nand knowledge, to make thee know the certainty of the words of truth,\nthat thou mayest carry back words of truth to them,\" those helpless and\nignorant children whose needs \"send thee\" to me for instruction?[594]\n\nThe failures are numerous, disastrous, heart-breaking, but they are\nunnecessary. Your children are holy; they belong to the Saviour in\nwhom you yourselves believe. Grasp that truth; go to Him in sublime\nfaith. \"Lord, it is not with Thee to save a part, to choose this one\nand save that. Thou wilt glorify Thyself in every one.\"[595] Surrender\nyourself to Him that He may use you to exhibit His Divine graces and\nsaving love to the children. Live with Him daily, that the glory of\nthe communion may not pass away from your face, or appear only by fits\nand starts--and so train up your child according to his way; and when\nhe is old he will not depart from it.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[575] Prov. xxii. 15.\n\n[576] John v. 39.\n\n[577] \"I am the eldest child, born in 1795, December 4th, and trace\ndeeply in myself the character of both parents, also the upbringing\nand example of both.\"--_Carlyle's Reminiscences_, vol. i., p. 54.\n\n[578] Eccles. xxx. 2.\n\n[579] Prov. xvii. 21.\n\n[580] Prov. xvii. 25, xix. 13, 26.\n\n[581] Prov. xv. 20. _Cf._ x. 1, xxvii. 11, xxix. 3.\n\n[582] Prov. xxiii. 15, 16, 24.\n\n[583] See that invaluable little book, \"The Education of a Christian\nHome,\" edited by Ella S. Armitage.\n\n[584] Prov. xxiii. 17.\n\n[585] \"The Education of a Christian Home.\"\n\n[586] Prov. xiii. 24.\n\n[587] Prov. xix. 18.\n\n[588] Prov. xx. 30.\n\n[589] Prov. xxiii. 13, 14.\n\n[590] Prov. xxix. 15.\n\n[591] Prov. xxix. 17.\n\n[592] Lev. xxvi. 41: \"If then their uncircumcised heart be humbled,\nand they then accept of the punishment of their iniquity, then will I\nremember My covenant with Jacob.\"\n\n[593] Prov. xxix. 15.\n\n[594] Prov. xxiii. 17-21.\n\n[595] \"The Education of a Christian Home.\"\n\n\n\n\n XXIV.\n\n _FORGIVING._\n\n \"Be not a witness against thy neighbour without cause, and deceive\n not with thy lips. Say not, I will do so to him as he hath done to\n me; I will render to the man according to his work.\"--PROV. xxiv.\n 28, 29.\n\n \"Rejoice not when thine enemy falleth, and let not thy heart be glad\n when he is overthrown, lest the Lord see it and it displease Him,\n and He turn away His wrath from him.\"--PROV. xxiv. 17, 18.\n\n \"He that is glad at calamity shall not be unpunished.\"--PROV. xvii.\n 5.\n\n \"If thine enemy be hungry, give him bread to eat, and if he be\n thirsty give him water to drink; for thou shalt heap coals of fire\n upon his head, and the Lord shall reward thee.\"--PROV. xxv. 21, 22.\n\n\nThere is no subject on which the teaching of the Proverbs more\nstrikingly anticipates the morality of the New Testament than that of\nforgiveness to our enemies. Our Lord Jesus Christ could take some of\nthese sayings and incorporate them unchanged into the law of His\nkingdom, for indeed it is not possible to surpass the power and beauty\nand truth of the command to feed those who have injured us if they are\nhungry, to give them drink when they are thirsty, and in this Divine way\nto kindle in them repentance for the injury which they have done. This\nis the high-water mark of moral excellence. No better state can be\ndesired. When a human spirit is habitually in this tender and forgiving\nmood, it is already united with the Father of spirits, and lives.\n\nIt is almost superfluous to point out that even the saints of the Old\nTestament fall very far short of the lofty standard which is here set\nbefore us. The Psalmist, for example, is thinking of coals of a quite\ndifferent sort when he exclaims: \"As for the head of those that\ncompass me about, let the mischief of their own lips cover them. Let\nburning coals fall upon them; let them be cast into the fire; into\ndeep pits that they rise not up again.\"[596] That is the old elemental\nhate of human nature, the passionate, indignant appeal to a righteous\nGod against those who have been guilty of a wrong or an injury. Even\nJeremiah, one of the latest, and certainly not the least holy, of the\nprophets could cry out concerning his enemies: \"Yet, Lord, Thou\nknowest all their counsel against me to slay me; forgive not their\niniquity, neither blot out their sin from Thy sight; but let them be\noverthrown before Thee; deal Thou with them in the time of Thine\nanger.\"[597] Words painfully natural, words echoed by many a\npersecuted man of God, but yet quite inconsistent with the teaching of\nthe Saviour in the Sermon on the Mount, the teaching already\nforeshadowed in this beautiful proverb.\n\nBut it may not be superfluous to notice that the Proverbs themselves,\neven those which stand at the head of this chapter, do not all touch\nthe high-water mark of xxv. 21. Thus, for example, the motive which is\nsuggested in xxiv. 18 for not rejoicing in the fall of an enemy is\nnone of the highest. The idea seems to be, if you see your enemy\nundergoing punishment, if calamity is falling upon him from the Lord,\nthen do not indulge in any insolent exultation, lest the Lord should\nbe offended with you, and, in order to chastise your malignity, should\ncease to plague and trouble him. In such a view of the question, God\nis still regarded as a Nemesis that will resent any unseemly rejoicing\nin the calamity of another;[598] in proportion therefore as you wish\nto see your enemy punished, you must abstain from that joy in his\npunishment which would lead to its diminution. From a precept of that\nkind there is a vast moral stride to the simple prohibition of\nretaliation, announced without any reason given or suggested in xxiv.\n29--\"Say not, I will do so to him as he hath done to me, I will render\nto the man according to his work.\" And from this again there is an\nincalculable stride to the positive spirit of love, which, not content\nwith simply abstaining from vindictiveness, actually turns the tables,\nand repays good for evil, looking with quiet assurance to the Lord,\nand the Lord alone, for recognition and reward. Our wonder is\noccasioned not because all the Proverbs do not reach the moral\naltitude of this one, but rather that this one should be so high. When\nan ideal is set up far in advance of the general practice and even of\nthe general thoughts of the time, we can ascribe it only to the\npromptings of the Holy Spirit.\n\nIt needs no proof that forgiveness is better than revenge. We all know\nthat--\n\n \"Revenge, at first though sweet,\n Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.\"[599]\n\nWe all know that the immediate effect of forgiving our enemy is a\nsweet flow of tenderness in the soul, which surpasses in delight all\nthe imagined joys of vindictiveness; and that the next effect is to\nsoften and win the foe himself; the scornful look relents, the tears\nof passion give place to those of penitence, the moved heart is eager\nto make amends. We all know that nothing more powerfully affects our\nfellow-men than the exhibition of this placable temper.[600] We all\nknow that in forgiving we share God's prerogative, and come into\nharmony with His Spirit.\n\nYet here is the melancholy fact that notwithstanding this proverbial\ntruth, taken up into the teaching of our Saviour, and echoed in the\nwritings of His Apostles,[601] even in a Christian society, forgiveness\nis almost as rare as it was in the days of King Solomon. Men are not\nashamed--even professing Christians are not ashamed--to say about their\nenemies, \"I will do so to him as he has done to me, I will render to the\nman according to his work.\" We even have a lurking admiration for such\nretaliatory conduct, calling it spirited, and we still are inclined to\ncontemn one who acts on the Christly principle as weak or visionary.\nStill the old bad delight in seeing evil fall on the head of our enemies\nglows in our hearts; still the act of vengeance is performed, the bitter\nretort is given, the abusive letter is written, with the old sense of\nunhallowed pride and triumph. How is this? Ah, the simple truth is that\nit is a small matter to get right principles recognised, the whole\ndifficulty lies in getting them practised. We need a power which can\nsuccessfully contend against the storm of passion and self-will, in\nthose terrible moments when all the calm lights of reason are quenched\nby the blinding surf of passion, and all the gentle voices of goodness\nare drowned by its roaring waves.\n\nSometimes we hear it said that the moral teaching of Christ is not\noriginal, but that all His precepts may be found in the words and\nwritings of ancient sages, just as His teaching about forgiveness is\nanticipated by the proverb. Yes, but His claim does not rest upon His\nteaching, but upon the Divine and supernatural power which He has at\nHis command to carry out His doctrines in the conduct of His\ndisciples. This is the point which we must realize if this sweet and\nbeautiful ideal is to be worked out in our lives. We have but touched\nthe fringe of the question when we have conned His words, or shaped\nconceptions of what a life would be passed in conformity to them. The\ncentre of Christian doctrine is _power_, the power of Christ, the\nfountain of living waters opened in the heart, the grafting of the\nwithering branches upon a living stock, the indwelling of Christ\nHimself, as the spring and principle of every holy action, and the\neffectual restraint on all our ungovernable passions.\n\nBut before looking more closely at this, we ought to pay some attention\nto the constant motive which our Lord, even in His teaching, presents\nfor the practice of a forgiving disposition. He always bases the duty of\nforgiveness on the need which we have of God's forgiveness; He teaches\nus to pray, \"Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that\ntrespass against us;\" and in the moving story of the unmerciful servant,\nwho demanded the full payment from his fellow-servant just when his lord\nhad pitifully remitted his own debt, He tells us that forgiveness of our\nenemies is an indispensable condition of our being forgiven by God. \"His\nlord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay\nall that was due. So shall also My Heavenly Father do unto you, if ye\nforgive not every one his brother from your hearts.\"[602] It is not\ntherefore only, as it is sometimes stated, that we ought to be moved to\npity by remembering what God has done for us. No, there is a much\nsterner thought in our Lord's mind; it is that if we do not forgive we\nshall not and cannot be forgiven. The forgiving spirit manifested to our\nfellow-men is that without which it is vain for us to come near and to\nask God for pardon. If we have come, and are just about to offer our\nprayer, and if we then remember that we have aught against a brother, we\nmust go first and be reconciled to him, before our prayer can be so much\nas heard.\n\nHere is certainly a motive of a very powerful kind. Which of us would\ndare to cherish the bitter thought, or proceed with our plan of\nvengeance, if we remembered and realized that our vindictiveness would\nmake our own pardon at the hands of God impossible? Which of the\ncountless deeds of retaliation that stain with blood the pages of\nhistory would have been perpetrated, and which of the perpetrators\nwould not have tremblingly relinquished all thought of reprisals, if\nthey had seen that in those savage acts of vengeance they were not,\nas they supposed, executing lawful justice, but actually cutting off\ntheir own hope of pardon before the throne of God?\n\nIf we avenge ourselves, if society is constantly torn by the quarrels\nand the mutual recriminations of hostile men whose one thought is to\ngive as good as they have got, it can only be because we do not\nbelieve, or do not realize, this solemn teaching of the Lord. He seems\na faint and doubtful voice compared with the loud tumult of passion\nwithin; His authority seems weak and ineffectual compared with the\nmighty domination of the evil disposition. Powerful, therefore, as the\nmotive is to which He constantly appeals, if He had left us nothing\nbut His teaching on the subject we should not be materially better off\nthan they who listened with attention to the teaching of the wise\nauthors of these ancient Proverbs. What more has He left us?\n\nIt is His prerogative to give to those who believe in Him a changed\nheart. How much is meant by that, which only the changed heart can\nknow! Outwardly we seem much alike; outwardly there is little sign of\nan inward transformation; but far as the east is from the west is the\nunregenerate heart from the regenerate, the Christless heart from one\nwhich He has taken in His hands, and by His great redemption created\nanew. Now without stopping to follow the processes of faith by which\nthis mighty change is effected, let us simply mark the characteristics\nof the change so far as it affects the matter in hand.\n\nThe first and most radical result of the New Birth is that God takes\nthe place which Self has occupied. All the thoughts which have\nclustered about your own being now turn to His Being, as stray\nfragments of iron turn to the magnet. Consequently, all the emotions\nand passions which are stimulated by self-love give place to those\nwhich are stimulated by the love of God. It is as if the pipes of your\naqueduct had been changed at the fountain head, disconnected from the\nmalarious waters of the marsh, and connected with the pure and\nsparkling water of the hills. God's ways of regarding men, God's\nfeelings towards men, His yearning over them, His pity for them, flow\ninto the changed heart, and so preoccupy it that resentment, hatred,\nand malice are washed out like the sour dregs in a cup which is rinsed\nin a running stream.\n\nThere is the man who did you the wrong--very cruel and unpardonable it\nwas!--but, as all personal elements are quite out of the question, you\nregard him just as if you were not the injured being. You see him only\nas God sees him; you trace all the malignant workings of his mind; you\nknow how the fire of his hate is a fire which burns the heart that\nentertains it. You see clearly how tormenting those revengeful passions\nare, how the poor soul mastered by them is diseased, how the very action\nin which it is triumphing now must become one day a source of bitter\nregret and implacable self-reproach; you soon begin to regard the ill\ndeed as a shocking wound inflicted on the doer of it, and the wells of\npity are opened. As if this enemy of yours had been quite innocent of\nall ill-will, and had been overtaken by some terrible calamity, your one\ninstinctive thought is to help him and relieve him. Out of the fulness\nof your heart, without any sense of being magnanimous, or any thought of\na further end,--simply for the pity of it,--you come to proffer him\nbread in his hunger and water in his thirst.\n\nYes, it is in the atmosphere of pity that personal resentment dies\naway, and it is only by the power of the Son of Man that the heart can\nbe filled with a pity large enough to pardon all the sins of our kind.\n\nIt is this thought--though without any definite statement of the means\nby which it is produced--that finds expression in Whittier's touching\nlines:--\n\n \"My heart was heavy, for its trust had been\n Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong;\n So turning gloomily from my fellow-men,\n One summer Sabbath day I strolled among\n The green mounds of the village burying-place;\n Where pondering how all human love and hate\n Find one sad level; and how, soon or late,\n Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened face,\n And cold hands folded over a still heart,\n Pass the green threshold of a common grave,\n Whither all footsteps tend, whence none depart,\n Awed for myself, and pitying my race,\n Our common sorrow, like a mighty wave,\n Swept all my pride away, and, trembling, I forgave.\"\n\nYes, one who is touched by the spirit of the Son of Man finds too much\nto pity in the great sorrowing world, and in its fleeting and\nuncertain life, to cherish vengeful feelings. Himself redeemed by the\nuntold love of His Father, by the undeserved and freely offered pardon\nin Christ Jesus his Lord, he can feel for his enemies nothing but\nforbearance and love; if they too are Christians, he longs to win them\nback to the peace and joy from which their evil passion must have\ndriven them; and if they are not, his eyes must fill with tears as he\nremembers how brief is their apparent triumph, how unsubstantial their\ngleam of joy. The desire to save them immediately masters the\ntransitory wish to punish them. The pity of men, for the sake of the\nSon of Man, wins the day.\n\nAnd now we may just glance at the effect which the Christly conduct\nhas upon the offender, and the reward which God has attached to its\nexercise.\n\nIt is one of the most beautiful traces of God's likeness in even bad\nmen, a characteristic to which there is no parallel in the animal\ncreation, that though passion awakes passion, wrath wrath, and\nvengeance revenge--so that savages pass their whole time in an\nunbroken series of blood feuds, the hideous retaliation bandied from\ntribe to tribe and from man to man, generation after generation--the\nspirit of meekness, proceeding not from cowardice, but from love,\ndisarms passion, soothes wrath, and changes vengeance into\nreconciliation. The gleam of forgiveness in the eye of the injured is\nso obviously the light of God that the wrongdoer is cowed and softened\nbefore it. It kindles a fire in his spirit, his heart melts, his\nuplifted hand falls, his angry voice grows tender. When men are so\ndehumanised as to be insensible to this softening effect, when they\ninterpret the gentleness as weakness, and are moved by the forgiving\nspirit simply to further injury and more shameless wrong, then we may\nknow that they are possessed,--they are no longer men,--they are\npassing into the category of the lost spirits, whom the forbearance of\nGod Himself leads not to repentance but only to added sin.\n\nBut if you have ever by the sweet spirit of Christ so mastered your\nnatural impulse as to return good for evil lovingly and\nwhole-heartedly, and if you have seen the regenerating effect in the\nbeautiful subjugation of your foe and his transformation into a\nfriend, it is not necessary to say much of the reward which God has\nin store for you. Do you not already possess it?\n\nYet the reward is certainly greater than you are able at once to\napprehend. For what a secret is this which you possess, the secret of\nturning even the malignity of foes into the sweetest affection, the\nsecret which lay in the heart of God as the spring and the means of\nman's redemption.[603] The highest reward that God can give to His\ncreatures is to make them partakers of His nature as He has made them\nin His own image. When we share in a Divine attribute we enter so far\ninto the Divine bliss; and in proportion as this attribute seems\nremoved from our common human nature, our spirit must exult to find\nthat it has been really appropriated. What further reward, then, can\nhe who avenges not himself desire? The pulse of the Divine heart beats\nin him; the tides of the Divine life flow through him. He is like\nGod--God who opposes to man's ingratitude the ocean of His pardoning\nlove; he is conscious of that which is the fountain of joy in the\nDivine Being; surely a man must be satisfied when he awakes in God's\nlikeness! And that satisfaction comes to every one who has heaped\ncoals of fire on his enemy's head by feeding him in his hunger, and\ngiving him water when athirst. Say not, \"I will do so to him as he has\ndone to me, I will render to the man according to his work.\" Love your\nenemies; pray for them which despitefully use you.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[596] Psalm cxl. 9, 10.\n\n[597] Jer. xviii. 23.\n\n[598] Prov. xvii. 5_b_.\n\n[599] _Paradise Lost_, ix., 171.\n\n[600] Burke said of Pitt after his fall, that the manner in which he\nmade his own justification, without impeaching the conduct of his\ncolleagues or taking any measure that might seem to arise from disgust\nor opposition, set a seal upon his character. (Lecky, \"England in the\nEighteenth Century,\" vol. iii., 61.)\n\n[601] See Rom. xii. 20.\n\n[602] Matt. xviii. 35.\n\n[603] _Cf._ the proverb, \"When a man's ways please the Lord He maketh\neven his enemies to be at peace with him\" (Prov. xvi. 7).\n\n\n\n\n XXV.\n\n _THE KING._\n\n \"It is the glory of God to conceal a thing, but the glory of\n _kings_ is to search out a matter.\n\n The heaven for height and the earth for depth, and the heart of\n _kings_ is unsearchable.\n\n Take away the dross from the silver, and there cometh forth a\n vessel for the finer;\n\n Take away the wicked from before the _king_, and his throne shall\n be established in righteousness.\n\n Put not thyself forward in the presence of the _king_, and stand\n not in the presence of great men:\n\n Far better is it that it be said unto thee, Come up hither, than\n that thou shouldest be put lower in the presence of the _prince_\n whom thine eyes have seen.\"--PROV. xxv. 2-7.\n\n\nIt will be remembered that in the book of Samuel there are two accounts\nof the monarchy and its origin lying side by side,--different, and to\nall appearance irreconcilable. One set of passages seems to imply that\nthe king was appointed by God's holy purpose to fulfil the objects of\nHis government. But another set of passages seems to represent the\noutcry for a king as a rebellion against the sovereignty of the Lord,\nand the appointment of a king as a punishment for the people's sin. It\nis in agreement with the first idea that provision is made in the Law\nfor a monarchical government; but it is in agreement with the second\nidea that the actual kings prove to be for the most part incompetent and\nfaithless rulers, \"who do evil in the sight of the Lord,\" and that even\nthe best of them fall into gross sins, or are at any rate guilty of\ngrave errors. Thus David stumbled into a miry pit; Jehoshaphat\nexperienced defeat in his alliance with Ahab; Josiah was slain at the\nbattle of Megiddo; Uzziah was smitten with leprosy; and Hezekiah\ncommitted an imprudence which incidentally brought the great calamity\nupon his country. So it is all through.\n\nNow the only satisfactory explanation that this twofold aspect of the\nkingship seems to admit of is one which goes deep down into the\nprophetic and inspired character of Israel and its history. The king\nin his ideal aspect is throughout a type and a foreshadowing of the\nAnointed One that was to come; and the actual failure of all the kings\nto realize the ideal, to govern wisely, to establish righteousness, or\neven to observe the moral law in their own persons, necessarily threw\nmen's thoughts forward to Him who should sit upon the throne of David,\nand carry out in ways not yet realized or even conceived the noble and\nexalted ideas which clustered round the theocratic throne. Many hasty\ncritics have been swift to see and to censure the ignoble failures of\nthe men who sat upon the thrones of Judah and Israel; some critics\nhave developed with sufficient clearness the noble ideal which always\nunderlay the monarchy even in the moments of its deepest decline. But\ncomparatively few have seen the significance of this contrast between\nthe ideal and the actual; and consequently only a few have perceived\nwith what a prolonged and emphatic voice the whole story of the Kings\nspoke of Christ.\n\nThe contrast just pointed out in the historic books appears with equal\ndistinctness in this book of Wisdom; the proverbial sayings about the\nking exhibit the twofold thought; and the reconciliation is only found\nwhen we have realized the Kingship of Christ and can bring that idea\nto explain the ancient forecast. Thus the study of the things\nconcerning the king is to the thoughtful reader of the Proverbs a\nstudy of the things concerning Christ. The ideal elements speak of\nHim; the actual shortcomings cry out for Him.\n\nFirst we will review what is said to the glory and honour of the king.\nHe comes before us as the embodiment of righteousness.[604] \"It is an\nabomination to kings to commit wickedness, for the throne is established\nby righteousness. Righteous lips are the delight of kings, and they love\nhim that speaketh right.\"[605] \"A king that sitteth on the throne of\njudgment winnoweth away all evil with his eyes.... A wise king winnoweth\nthe wicked and bringeth the threshing wheel over them.\"[606] As he\npurges the wicked, so he encourages the righteous: \"He that loveth\npureness of heart hath grace on his lips, the king shall be his\nfriend.\"[607] There is a great severity in his government: \"The wrath of\na king is as messengers of death; and a wise man will pacify it.\"[608]\n\"The king's wrath is as the roaring of a lion.\"[609] On the other hand,\nhis mercy is one with his severity: \"His favour is as dew upon the\ngrass.\"[609] \"In the light of the king's countenance is life, and his\nfavour is as a cloud of the latter rain.\"[610] \"Mercy and truth preserve\nthe king, and his throne is upholden by mercy.\"[611] The fact is that\nhis government is a viceroyalty. He is the human instrument of the\nDivine Will. \"The king's heart is in the hand of the Lord; as the\nwatercourses\"--which the farmer directs and leads over his fields\naccording to his purpose--\"he turneth it whithersoever he will.\"[612]\nThus the king expresses precisely \"the Lord's favour towards a servant\nthat dealeth wisely, and the Lord's wrath against him that causeth\nshame.\"[613] The king manifests the Lord's spirit in dealing with the\nsubject, judging the cause of the poor as the Lord does. \"The king that\njudgeth faithfully the poor, his throne shall be established for\never.\"[614] He is, in a word, a manifestation--a revelation--of God\nHimself. \"The glory of God is to conceal a thing,\" _i.e._, to be\nunsearchable and unknowable, \"and the glory of kings is to search a\nmatter out;\" the king, searching the deep things of God, and becoming\nthe interpreter of the Divine will to men, is Himself in the place of\nGod to us. \"The heaven for height and the earth for depth, and the heart\nof kings there is no searching.\" Reflecting the righteousness, the\nmercy, the power of God, his throne is bathed in the celestial light.\n\"Take away dross from the silver, and there cometh forth a vessel for\nthe finer; take away evil from before the king, and his throne shall be\nfixed in justice.\"[615]\n\nIn the presence of such a sovereign the subject may well abase\nhimself, even the greatest and wisest may count himself small.\n\"Glorify not thyself before a king, and in the place of the great do\nnot stand. For better is it that it be said to thee, Come up hither,\nthan that thou shouldest be put lower in the presence of a prince whom\nthine eyes have seen.\"[616]\n\nRebellion against such a sovereign is the merest infatuation. \"Against\nhim there is no rising up.\"[617] \"The terror of the king is as the\nroaring of a lion, he that provoketh him to anger sinneth against his\nown life.\"[618] \"My son, fear thou the Lord and the king, and meddle\nnot with them who are given to change; for their calamity shall rise\nsuddenly; and who knoweth the destruction of them both.\"[619]\n\nIt is evident that in all this we have an ideal picture. No king that\never sat on an earthly throne, no David or Hezekiah, no Antoninus or\nTrajan, no Charlemagne or St. Louis, no Alfred or Edward the First,\never in the faintest degree approached the fulfilment of the ideal.\nThe divinity which hedged them was of quite a different kind from this\nopen vision of God, this human mediatorship, this absolute subjection\nto the Divine will. And when we leave the select class of great and\ngood kings, and look at the ordinary type of the strong and capable\nruler, Saul or Ahab, Alexander or C\u00e6sar, Constantine or Diocletian,\nClovis or Rollo, William the Conqueror or Henry II., Louis XIV. or\nFrederick the Great, the Czar Peter or Napoleon, we see at once that\nwe have passed into a region of thought and action where the\ndescription of the Proverbs becomes unreal and visionary.\n\nThere is but one way of explaining the language before us. _It points to\nChrist._ In Him alone is it or can it be realized. He is the only\nsovereign that has any union with God which is at all like identity. He\nis the only Ruler who blends with absolute infallibility severity and\nmercy. Of what other king could it be said that \"purity of heart\"\nsecures His friendship? What other king has made it his first and\nsupreme object to judge faithfully the poor? What other government but\nHis has sought its security in that essential duty and its fulfilment?\nIt is Christ alone whose favour descends on the heart like dew on the\ngrass, or as a cloud of the latter rain. His is the only rule against\nwhich rebellion is more than a political crime, and becomes an actual\nsin. Of Him alone can it be said with any breadth of meaning or\ncertainty of fulfilment, \"Let no falsehood from the tongue be spoken to\nthe King, and no falsehood shall go out of his mouth. A sword is the\nking's tongue, and that not of flesh.\"[620] It is only a king absolutely\nrighteous and absolutely merciful that can ever bear down with effective\nforce upon lies and liars. It is only He that would see in lying the\nprime sin, the incurable disease, the unpardonable treason.\n\nThe King is Christ. Before He came there was in the line of His\nforeshadowing a typical Divine right of kings. But since His coming\nall such kingships have been anachronisms. The appeal which used to be\nmade to the Old Testament to support that famous political dogma was\nindeed its surest refutation and condemnation. For all that is said\nthere of the indefeasible prerogative, coupled as it is with an\ninfallibility of judgment, a perfect moral goodness, and an\nirresistible power, applied and could apply only to Christ. Where\nabsolute monarchy is not Christship it becomes, as so many familiar\npassages in the Old Testament show, a tyranny and an oppression, a\ncause of national corruption and decay.\n\nNow this leads us, in the second place, to notice how the actual\nfailure and consequent mischief of the kingship are reflected in the\nproverbs, and especially those later proverbs which date from the\ndecline and fall of the monarchy. We have only to glance over the\nbooks of Samuel and Kings to see what kind of men the occupants of the\nthrone were; few of them show any marked ability, most of them by\ntheir folly and stupidity lead their people with hurried strides\ntowards the threatened catastrophe. So far from acting as vicegerents\nof the Lord, it is their special characteristic that they are the\nauthors of the prevailing religious apostasy. Even the more favourable\nexceptions, the kings who in the main did what was right in the eyes\nof the Lord, had not spiritual energy enough to purify the worship and\nrestore the allegiance of their people to the Lord. Now it would be\nsome insolent and witless tyrant who would desolate the country and\ndrive his subjects into revolt. \"A raging lion, a ravening bear, a\nwicked ruler over a poor people. O prince, that lackest understanding\nand art a great oppressor, he that hateth rapine shall prolong his\ndays.\"[621] Now it would be a headstrong prince who would scorn all\ncounsel, and, refusing to be advised, would himself retire from the\nhelm of the state. \"Where no wise steering is, the people falleth; but\nin the multitude of counsellors there is safety.\"[622] Setting aside\nthe maxim, \"Every purpose is established by counsel, and by wise\nguidance make thou war,\"[623] his purposes would be disappointed.[624]\nNow the earth would be burdened and tremble with the portent of a\nservant as king,[625] one who as a servant might be excellent, but\nonce on the throne would reveal all the weaknesses and vices which are\nessentially servile.[626] Now a liar would occupy the throne, and\nlying lips ill become a prince.[627] And now, owing to the weakness\nand folly of the prince, the state would fall into pieces and be torn\nwith wildly contending factions: \"For the transgression of a land many\nare the princes thereof, but by a man of understanding and knowledge\nright will be prolonged.\"[628] Under the rule of the wicked,\npopulation disappears.[629] And while \"in the multitude of people is\nthe king's glory, in the want of people is the destruction of the\nprince.\"[630] Under the tyrant's sway \"the people sigh.\"[631] Their\npersons are insecure, and their property is taken from them in the\nform of forced gifts or benevolences.[632] And as the king, such are\nhis servants; his readiness to hearken to falsehood renders them all\nwicked.[633] The atmosphere of the court becomes corrupt: all truth,\nsincerity, purity disappear. The courtier is afraid to speak his mind,\nlest jealous listeners should report the words to the monarch's\nsuspicious ear. The very freedom of social life disappears, and the\ntable of the king becomes a trap to the unwary. \"When thou sittest to\neat with a ruler, consider diligently him that is before thee, and put\na knife to thy throat if thou be a man given to appetite; be not\ndesirous of his dainties, seeing they are deceitful meat.\"[634]\n\nHere is the complete and absolute corruption of the Divine royalty.\nThe description holds true age after age; suggested by the decline of\nthe monarchy in Israel, it applies accurately to the Imperial\ngovernment at Rome, and it might have been written to describe the\ncharacter and the government of the Stuarts in England. Strong in what\nthey supposed to be their Divine Right, they became liars and\nhearkened to falsehood; their servants became wicked; their government\nperished from its own inherent rottenness. The description holds too\nof the French monarchy from the time of Louis XIV. to its fall. And it\nwould seem, as indeed we may confidently believe, that the slow and\nimperceptible decay of the faith in the divine right of kings has\nbeen in God's hands a long preparation for the reign of Him whose\nright it is to reign, Jesus Christ, the true King of men.\n\nBut there is still one other characteristic cause of the perverted\nkingship, to which attention is drawn in xxxi. 2-8: \"Give not thy\nstrength unto women, nor thy ways to that which destroyeth kings. It\nis not for kings, O Lemuel, it is not for kings to drink wine, nor for\nprinces to say, Where is strong drink? Lest they drink and forget the\nlaw, and pervert the judgment of any that is afflicted.\" These fleshly\nvices are peculiarly common and peculiarly ruinous to kings,\npreventing them from pleading \"the cause of such as are left\ndesolate,\" and from \"ministering judgment to the poor and needy.\"[635]\nIt is in realizing the private life of kings, and in observing how\nseldom they have practised temperance, chastity, self-control, and how\nreadily their contemporaries and even posterity have dispensed them\nfrom these primary obligations, that we plainly recognise the broad\ndivergence between the facts of earthly monarchies and the description\nof the heavenly monarchy, and thus are prepared to recognise with\ngratitude and awe the sole sovereignty of Christ. The cry of the\nFlorentines under the temporary excitement created by Savonarola's\npreaching was, \"Jesus is our King, only Jesus.\" That is the constant\nand ever-swelling cry of human hearts. The types and shadows fall\naway; through the forms the spirit becomes apparent. It is Christ that\nclaims and wins and enchains our loyalty. We are His subjects, He is\nour absolute Lord; we have no king but Jesus.\n\nThere is in every human heart a loyalty which seeks for a fitting\nobject; if it finds no lawful king, it will attach itself to a\npretender. What pathos there is in the sacrifice which men have made,\nand in the deeds which they have dared, for Pretenders who have had no\nclaim upon their devotion or allegiance! \"Show me my rightful\nsovereign,\" seems to be the implicit demand of us all. And the answer\nhas been given, \"Behold, your king cometh unto you,\" in the lowly\nperson, but commanding majesty, of Jesus. Many have accepted this and\nhave cried, \"Blessed is the king that cometh in the name of the\nLord.\"[636]\n\nShall we not bring our loyalty to Him, recognising the One whom prophets\nand wise men foretold, and acknowledging in His sway the authority which\nall other governments, even the best of them, lack? Let no false shame\nor fear restrain our homage; let not the sneers of those over whom\n\"other lords have dominion\" keep our knees from bending, and our tongues\nfrom confessing, \"The fear of man bringeth a snare; but whoso putteth\nhis trust in the Lord shall be safe. Many seek the ruler's\nfavour,\"--their whole thought is to stand well with the powers that be,\nand to secure the recognition of the Pretender who happens at any given\nmoment to be directing the affairs of the world,--\"but a man's judgment\ncometh from the Lord,\" his rightful King,[637] and to stand right with\nHim is all that need concern us. How well the King of men understood\nthat because He came in humility--His birthplace a manger, His throne a\nfishing-boat or a wayside well, riding not in chariots of state, \"but on\nan ass, and the foal of an ass;\" because His appeal would be, not to\nthe eye, but to the heart; not to the outward, but the inward; not to\nthe temporal, but to the eternal,--men, with their perverted and\nmisapplied loyalties, would reject Him and be ashamed to confess Him.\nFalse kingships have dazzled our eyes, and hidden from us the grandeur\nof a Sovereign who is among us as one that serveth. From the touch of\nHis humiliation we shrink.\n\nBut if the heart recognises and owns its lawful Sovereign; if,\ncaptivated by His indescribable beauty and bowed before His\nindisputable authority, it seeks only in profound obeisance and\nabsolute surrender, to worship and adore and serve, how royal is His\ntreatment, how unstinted are His largesses. \"Come up hither,\" He says,\nbringing the soul higher and higher, into fuller vision, into more\nbuoyant life, into more effectual service. The evil ruler, we saw,\nmade all his servants wicked. Christ, as King, makes all His servants\nholy, dwelling in them, and subduing their hearts to Himself in ever\ntruer devotion; He through them carries out His vast designs of love\nin those portions of His dominion where rebels still rise up against\nHim, and where poor deluded hearts still fretfully cry, \"We will not\nhave this Man to rule over us.\" \"In the multitude of people is the\nking's glory.\" May God hasten the time when all peoples and tongues\nshall bow down to and worship our King!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[604] It will be observed that, speaking generally, the early proverbs\npresent the more favourable side of the kingship, and the later proverbs\nsuggest a period of decline (see Introduction). Possibly the same test\nmay serve to distinguish the passages in Deuteronomy and the book of\nSamuel; the brighter thought that the king was originally intended by\nGod may come from the early days when the kings still promised well, and\nthe darker thought which crosses the optimistic picture may emanate from\nthe period when their failure and decline were unmistakable.\n\n[605] Prov. xvi. 12, 13.\n\n[606] Prov. xx. 8, 26.\n\n[607] Prov. xxii. 11.\n\n[608] Prov. xvi. 14.\n\n[609] Prov. xix. 12.\n\n[610] Prov. xvi. 15.\n\n[611] Prov. xx. 28.\n\n[612] Prov. xxi. 1.\n\n[613] Prov. xiv. 35.\n\n[614] Prov. xxix. 14.\n\n[615] Prov. xxv. 2-5.\n\n[616] Prov. xxv. 6, 7.\n\n[617] Prov. xxx. 31.\n\n[618] Prov. xx. 2.\n\n[619] Prov. xxiv. 21, 22.\n\n[620] The LXX. of xxiv. 23, which adds a passage not appropriate to\nChrist, \"Whosoever is delivered up to him shall be crushed. For if his\ntemper be exasperated, he consumes men, sinews and all, and crunches\ntheir bones, and burns them up as a flame, so that they are uneatable\nto the young of eagles.\"\n\n[621] Prov. xxviii. 15, 16.\n\n[622] Prov. xi. 15. The image from steering survives in our own\ngovernor (gubernator).\n\n[623] Prov. xx. 18.\n\n[624] Prov. xv. 22.\n\n[625] See 1 Kings xvi. 7.\n\n[626] Prov. xxx. 22.\n\n[627] Prov. xvii. 7.\n\n[628] Prov. xxviii. 2.\n\n[629] Prov. xxviii. 12.\n\n[630] Prov. xiv. 28.\n\n[631] Prov. xxix. 2.\n\n[632] Prov. xxix. 4.\n\n[633] Prov. xxix. 12. _Cf._ Ecclesiasticus x. 2: \"As the judge of the\npeople is himself, so are his officers; and what manner of man the\nruler of the city is, such are they also that dwell therein.\"\n\n[634] Prov. xxiii. 1-3. _Cf._ the Eastern adage, \"Dainties of a king\nburn the lips.\" It was a common occurrence at the court of Pope\nAlexander VI. to invite an obnoxious person to the Papal table and\nthere dispose of him by means of poisoned food.\n\n[635] Prov. xxxi. 8, 9.\n\n[636] Luke xix. 38.\n\n[637] Prov. xxix. 25, 26.\n\n\n\n\n XXVI.\n\n _THE FOOL._\n\n \"As snow in summer, and as rain in harvest, so honour is not\n seemly for a fool....\n\n A whip for the horse, a bridle for the ass, and a rod for the back\n of fools.\n\n Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest thou also be like\n unto him.\n\n Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own\n conceit.\n\n He that sendeth a message by the hand of a fool cutteth off his\n own feet, and drinketh in damage.\n\n The legs of the lame hang loose: so is a parable in the mouth of\n fools.\n\n As a bag of gems in a heap of stones, so is he that giveth honour\n to a fool.\n\n As a thorn that goeth up into the hand of a drunkard, so is a\n parable in the mouth of fools.\n\n As an archer that woundeth all, so is he that hireth the fool and\n he that hireth them that pass by.\n\n As a dog that returneth to his vomit, so is a fool that repeateth\n his folly.\n\n Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit? there is more hope of a\n fool than of him.\"--PROV. xxvi. 1, 3-12.\n\n\nThis passage points out certain characteristics of the fool, a term\nwhich occurs so frequently in the book of Proverbs that we must try to\nconceive clearly what is to be understood by it. The difficulty of\nforming a distinct conception arises from the fact that there are\nthree different words, with different shades of meaning, all rendered\nby the one English expression, fool or folly. For want of carefully\ndistinguishing these delicate varieties of the original, some of the\nproverbs appear in English tautological and almost meaningless. We\nmust try then to separate and to understand these several terms.\n\nThe Hebrew word which most frequently occurs in the book to designate\nfool, \u05d0\u05b6\u05d5\u05b4\u05d9\u05dc, together with its derivative, which is the usual word\nfor folly, \u05d0\u05b4\u05d5\u05b6\u05bc\u05dc\u05b6\u05ea, signifies weakness. We are to think of that\nignorant, inconsiderate, sanguine, and self-confident temper which\neschews counsel, which will have its own way, which declines to be\ngoverned by reason, which forms fond expectations and baseless hopes,\nand which is always sure that everything will turn out according to\nits wish, though it takes no means to secure the desired result.\nPerhaps the simplest way of describing the habit of mind and the type\nof character intended by the Hebrew is to use the word _infatuation_.\nThis would not do as a translation in all the passages where it\noccurs, but it will serve to point out the underlying idea.\n\nThe word which comes next in frequency, \u05db\u05b0\u05bc\u05de\u05b4\u05d9\u05dc,--the word used\nuniformly throughout the particular passage before us,--has at its root\nthe notion of grossness, the dull and heavy habit of one whose heart has\nwaxed fat, whose ears are slow to hear, and whose higher perceptions and\nnobler aspirations have succumbed to the sensual and earthly nature. We\nhave to think of moral, as well as mental, stupidity, of insensibility\nto all that is true and good and pure. The fool in this sense is such a\ndullard that he commits wickedness without perceiving it,[638] and\nutters slanders almost unconsciously;[639] he does not know when to be\nsilent;[640] whatever is in him quickly appears,[641] but when it is\nknown it is very worthless;[642] nor has he the sense to get wisdom,\neven when the opportunity is in his hand;[643] his best advantages are\nquickly wasted and he is none the better.[644] Perhaps the English word\nwhich best fits the several suggestions of the Hebrew one is\n_senseless_.\n\nThe third term, \u05e0\u05b8\u05d1\u05b8\u05dc, occurs only four times in the book. It is derived\nfrom a verb signifying to fade and wither. It describes the inward\nshrinking and shrivelling of a depraved nature, the witlessness which\nresults from wickedness. It contains in itself a severer censure than\nthe other two. Thus \"He that begetteth a _senseless_ man (\u05db\u05b0\u05bc\u05de\u05b4\u05d9\u05dc) doeth\nit to his sorrow, but the father of the _bad fool_ (\u05e0\u05b8\u05d1\u05b8\u05dc) hath no\njoy.\"[645] In the one case there is trouble enough, in the other there\nis nothing but trouble. Thus it is one of the four things for which the\nearth trembles when a man of this kind is filled with meat.[646] This\nthird character is sketched for us in the person of Nabal, whose name,\nas Abigail says, is simply the Hebrew word for fool in its worst sense,\nwhich fits exactly to its bearer. But dismissing this type of folly\nwhich is almost synonymous with consummate wickedness, of which indeed\nit is the outcome, we may turn to the distinction we have drawn between\ninfatuation and senselessness in order to explain and understand some of\nthe Proverbs in which the words occur.\n\nFirst of all we may notice how difficult it is to get rid of the folly\nof infatuation: \"Though thou shouldest bray a person possessed of it in\na mortar with a pestle among bruised corn, yet will it not depart from\nhim.\"[647] \"It is bound up in the heart of a child,\"[648] and the whole\nobject of education is to get it out; but if childhood passes into\nmanhood, and the childish wilfulness, self-confidence, and irrationality\nare not expelled, the case is well-nigh hopeless. Correction is\npractically useless; \"He must be a thorough fool,\" it has been said,\n\"who can learn nothing from his own folly;\" but that is precisely the\ncondition of the infatuated people we are considering; the only\ncorrection of their infatuation is a further increase of it.[649] The\nreason is practically choked; the connection between cause and effect is\nlost: thus every ill consequence of the rash act or of the vicious habit\nis regarded as a misfortune instead of a fault. The wretched victim of\nhis own folly reviles fortune, nature, men, and even God, and will not\nrecognise that his worst enemy is himself. Thus, while the wise are\nalways learning and growing rich from experience, \"the infatuation of\nsenseless men is infatuation still.\"[650] It is this which makes them so\nhopeless to deal with; their vexation being quite irrational, and always\nrefusing to recognise the obvious facts, is worse than a heavy stone or\nthe piled-up overweight of sand for others to bear.[651] If a wise man\nhas a case with such a person, the ill-judged fury and the misplaced\nlaughter alike make it impossible to arrive at any sound\nsettlement.[652]\n\nThe untrained, undisciplined nature, which thus declines the guidance of\nreason and is unteachable because of its obstinate self-confidence, is\nconstantly falling into sin. Indeed, strictly speaking, its whole\nattitude is sinful, its every thought is sin.[653] For reason is God's\ngift, and to slight it is to slight Him. He requires of us a readiness\nto be taught, and an openness to the lessons which are forced upon us by\nNature, by experience, by our own human hearts. This flighty,\nfeather-brained, inconsequential mode of thinking and living, the wilful\nneglect of all the means by which we might grow wiser, and the confident\nassurance that, whatever happens, we are not accountable for it, are all\nan offence against God, a failure to be what we ought to be, a missing\nof the mark, a neglect of the law, which is, in a word, sin.\n\nBut now let us look at the fool in the _second_ signification, which\noccurs in this twenty-sixth chapter so frequently,--the man who has\nbecome spiritually gross and insensible, unaware of Divine truths and\nconsequently obtuse to human duties. We may take the proverbs in the\norder in which they occur. \"As snow in summer, and as rain in harvest,\nso honour is not seemly for a fool.\" It is a melancholy fact that the\nkind of person here referred to is too often found in positions of\nhonour among men. Men rise to distinction in an artificial order of\nsociety, not by wisdom, but by the accident of birth and opportunity;\nand not unfrequently the ill-placed honour itself leads to that\ninsensibility which is so severely censured. The crass dulness, the\nperversity of judgment, the unfeeling severity, often displayed by\nprominent and distinguished persons, are no matter of surprise, and will\nnot be, until human society learns to bring its honours only to the wise\nand the good. \"Delicate living is not seemly for such persons.\"[654] It\nis precisely the comfort, the dignity, the exaltation, which prove their\nruin. Now it is true that we cannot always trace the effects of this\nmisplaced honour, but we are reminded that it is out of the course of\nNature's eternal laws, incongruous as snow in summer, hurtful as rain in\nharvest. Consequently the due penalty must inevitably come. According to\none reading of ver. 2, this penalty which overtakes the exalted fool is\nthus described:[655] \"As the sparrow in her wandering, and the swallow\nin her flying, so a gratuitous curse shall come upon him.\" In any case\nver. 3 states clearly enough what will eventually happen: \"A whip for\nthe horse, a bridle for the ass, and a rod for the back of fools.\" It is\nnot, of course, that this penalty can be remedial, but Nature herself\nprepares a \"rod for the back of him that is void of understanding;\"[656]\n\"As judgments are prepared for scorners, so are stripes for the back of\nfools.\"[657] Nor must we only understand this of fools that attain to\nunnatural honour: there are many dullards and insensates who are not\nmade such by the stupidity of misdirected admiration, but by their own\nmoral delinquencies; and as surely as the sparrow after flitting about\nall day returns to her nest in the dusk, or as the swallow in the long\nsummer flight arrives at her appointed place, the punishment of folly\nwill find out the delinquent. It may be long delayed, but an awakening\ncomes at last; the man who hardened his heart, who turned away from the\npleadings of God and mocked at His judgments, who chose the vanishing\nthings of time and scorned the large fruition of eternity, discovers his\nincredible stupidity, and the lash of remorse falls all the more heavily\nbecause it is left in the hand of conscience alone.[658] We must never\nlose sight of the fact that by the fool is not meant the simple or the\nshort-witted; there is in this folly of the proverbs a moral cause and a\nmoral responsibility which involve a moral censure; the senseless of\nwhom we are speaking are they whose \"heart is waxed gross, and their\nears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed; lest haply\nthey should perceive with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and\nunderstand with their heart.\"[659]\n\nWe are in the main obliged to leave the insensate to God and their\nconscience, because it is well-nigh impossible for us to deal with\nthem. They are intractable and even savage as wild animals. \"Let a\nbear robbed of her whelps meet a man, rather than a fool in his\ninfatuation.\"[660] They are irritated with any suggestion of\nspiritual things, indignant with any hint of their own case and its\nresponsibilities. If, on the one hand, you try to approach them on\ntheir own ground, to realize their motives and work upon the base\nideas which alone influence such minds, you seem to lose all power\nover them by coming down to their level. \"Answer not a fool according\nto his infatuation, lest thou also be like him.\"[661] If, on the other\nhand, you feel bound to convict him of his folly, and to humble him to\na sense of his position, you are obliged to use the language which\nwill be intelligible to him. \"Answer a fool according to his\ninfatuation, lest he be wise in his own eyes.\"[662] I recollect one\nSunday afternoon passing by a large village public-house, and it\nchanced that a little group of street preachers were doing their best\nto make known the Gospel to the idlers who were sitting on the benches\noutside. Going up to interest the men in what was being said, I was\nconfronted by the landlord, who was in a state of almost frenzied\nindignation. He denounced the preachers as hypocrites and scoundrels,\nwho lived on the honest earnings of those whom he saw around him.\nEvery attempt to bring him to reason, to show that the men in question\nspent their money on drink and not on the preachers, to secure a\npatient hearing for the gracious message, was met only with violent\nabuse directed against myself. The man was precisely what is meant in\nthese verses by a fool, one in whom all spiritual vision was blinded\nby greed and sensuality, in whom the plainest dictates of common sense\nand human courtesy were silenced; to answer him in his own vein was\nthe only way of exposing his folly, and yet to answer him in such a\nway was to come down to his own level. What could be done except to\nleave him to the judgments which are prepared for scorners and to the\nstripes which await the back of fools? A fool uttereth all his anger,\nand facing the torrent of angry words it is impossible to effectually\ncarry home to him any wholesome truth.[663]\n\nWe have seen how the kind of man that we are describing is in an\nutterly false position when any dignity or honour is attributed to\nhim; indeed, to give such honour is much the same as binding a stone\nin a sling to be immediately slung out again, probably to some one's\ninjury;[664] but he is almost equally useless in a subordinate\nposition. If, for instance, he is employed as a messenger, he is too\ndull to rightly conceive or correctly report the message. He will\nalmost certainly colour it with his own fancies, if he does not\npervert it to his own ends. To receive and to deliver any message\naccurately requires a certain truthfulness in perception and in speech\nof which this unfortunate creature is entirely devoid. Thus any one\nwho employs him in this capacity might as well cut off his own feet,\nas he drinks damage to himself.[665]\n\nIt is the awful punishment which comes to us all, when we allow our\nheart to wax gross, that wisdom itself becomes folly in our lips, and\ntruth herself becomes error. Thus if we know a proverb, or a text, or a\ndoctrine, we are sure to give it a lame application, so that, instead of\nsupporting what we wish to enforce, it hangs down helpless like a\ncripple's legs.[666] In this way the insensate corruptness of the\nMedi\u00e6val Church tried to justify the abuse of giving great\necclesiastical preferments to young children by quoting the text, \"Out\nof the mouths of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise.\"\nSometimes the result of this culpable stupidity is far more disastrous;\nit is like \"a thorn which runs up into a drunkard's hand,\" visiting with\nterrible condemnation those who have misused and perverted the\ntruth,[667] as when Torquemada and the administrators of the Inquisition\nbased their diabolical conduct on the gracious words of the Lord,\n\"Compel them to come in.\" No, the fool's heart can give no wholesome\nmessage; it will turn the very message of the Gospel into a curse and a\nblight, and by its dull and revolting insensibility it will libel God to\nman, suggesting that the Infinite Father, the Eternal God, is altogether\nsuch an one as these who profess to speak in His name.\n\nThe offence of the fool then cannot be condoned on the ground that he\nis only an enemy to himself. It is his master that he wrongs. As the\nproverb says, \"A master produces all things, but a fool's wages and\nhirer too pass away.\"[668] The fool loses what he earns himself: that\nis true, but he undoes his employer also. One is our Master, even\nChrist; He hires us for service in His vineyard; when we suffer our\nheart to wax dull, when we grow unspiritual, unresponsive, and\ninsensate, it is not only that we lose our reward, but we crucify the\nSon of God afresh and put Him to an open shame.\n\nAnd the worst, the most mournful, feature about this fool's condition is\nthat it tends to a perpetual self-repetition: \"As a dog that returneth\nto his vomit, so a fool is always repeating his folly.\"[669] Every\nhardening of the heart prepares for a fresh hardening, every refusal of\ntruth will lead to another refusal. Last Sunday you managed to evade the\nmessage which God sent you: that makes it much easier to evade the\nmessage He sends you to-day. Next Sunday you will be almost totally\nindifferent. Soon you will get out of reach altogether of His word,\nsaying it does you no good. Then you will deny that it is His word or\nHis message. You pass from folly to folly, from infatuation to\ninfatuation, until at last you can with a grave face accept the\nmonstrous self-contradiction of materialism, or wallow unresisting in\nthe slime of a tormenting sensuality. \"As the dog returns to his vomit\"!\n\nIt must be owned that the condition of the fool seems sufficiently\nsad, and the gloom is deepened by the fact that our book knows nothing\nof a way by which the fool may become wise. The Proverbs uniformly\nregard the foolish and the wise as generically distinct; between the\ntwo classes there is a great gulf fixed. There is the fool, trusting\nin his own heart, incurring stripes, not profiting by them, always the\nsame incorrigible and hopeless creature; and there is the wise man,\nalways delivered, learning from experience, becoming better and\nbetter.[670] The only suggestion of hope is a comparative one: \"Seest\nthou a man wise in his own conceit? there is more hope of a fool than\nof him.\"[671] But there is no tone of confidence about this assurance,\nbecause, as we have repeatedly seen, the case of the proud or\nconceited man is regarded as practically desperate.\n\nNo, for comfort and hope in this matter we have to turn away from the\nAncient Wisdom to the revealed Wisdom, Christ Jesus. It is He and He\nalone who practically forbids us to be hopeless about any one. A noble\nRoman in the time of the Punic Wars received an honourable recognition\nfrom the Senate because he had not in the darkest times despaired of\nthe Republic. That is the kind of debt that we owe to the Saviour. He\nhas not despaired of any human being; He will not let us despair. It\nis His peculiar power, tried and proved again and again, to turn the\nfool into the wise man. Observing the threefold distinction which is\nhidden under the word we have been examining, Christ is able to arouse\nthe weak, fond, infatuated soul to a sense of its need. Could there be\na better instance than that of the woman at the well,--a foolish\ncreature living in conscious sin, yet full of specious religious talk?\nDid He not awake in her the thirst for the living water, and satisfy\nthe craving which He had excited? Christ is able to transform the dull\nand heavy soul, that has suffered itself to be mastered by greed and\npetrified by selfishness. Was not this what He did to Zaccheus the\npublican? And even with that worst kind of fool, whose heart is\nwithered up within him by reason of sin, and who has learnt to say in\nhis heart that there is no God,[672] the Lord is not helpless. We do\nnot see such an one in the pages of the New Testament, because the\nfolly of Atheism was not among the follies of those times. But in our\nown day it is an experience by no means uncommon; when an avowed\ninfidel comes under the power of the Gospel, Christ enters into him\nwith the overwhelming conviction that there is a God; Christ shows him\nhow it is sin which has thus obscured the elementary conviction of the\nhuman spirit; and, by the direct power of Christ, his heart comes to\nhim again as that of a little child, while in the rapturous joy of\nbelieving he lays aside the folly which made him doubt along with the\nsin which made him unwilling to believe.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[638] Prov. x. 23.\n\n[639] Prov. x. 18.\n\n[640] Prov. xii. 23.\n\n[641] Prov. xiv. 33.\n\n[642] Prov. xiv. 7.\n\n[643] Prov. xvii. 16.\n\n[644] Prov. xxi. 20.\n\n[645] Prov. xvii. 21.\n\n[646] Prov. xxx. 22.\n\n[647] Prov. xxvii. 22.\n\n[648] Prov. xxii. 15.\n\n[649] Prov. xvi. 22.\n\n[650] Prov. xiv. 24. This seems simpler than supposing that the clause\n\u05d0\u05b4\u05d5\u05b6\u05bc\u05dc\u05b6\u05ea \u05db\u05b0\u05bc\u05de\u05b4\u05d9\u05dc\u05b4\u05d9\u05dd \u05d0\u05b4\u05d5\u05b6\u05bc\u05dc\u05b6\u05ea contains a play upon the possible double\nmeaning of \u05d0\u05b4\u05d5\u05b6\u05bc\u05dc\u05b6\u05ea, which, though it yields an excellent sense,--\"the\npower of fools is only folly,\" _i.e._, when they have power they turn\nit only to a foolish account (_cf._ xxvi. 1),--must be regarded as\nvery obscure, especially seeing that we have no positive instance of\n\u05d0\u05b4\u05d5\u05b6\u05bc\u05dc\u05b6\u05ea as a derivative of \u05d0\u05d5\u05bc\u05dc in the sense of \"power.\"\n\n[651] Prov. xxvii. 3.\n\n[652] Prov. xxix. 9.\n\n[653] Prov. xxiv. 9.\n\n[654] Prov. xix. 10.\n\n[655] This is reading \u05dc\u05d5\u05b9 for \u05dc\u05b9\u05d0, a constant source of confusion and\ninterchange in Hebrew MSS.\n\n[656] Prov. x. 13.\n\n[657] Prov. xix. 29.\n\n[658]\n\n \"Quos divi conscia facti\n Mens habet attonitos et surdo verbere c\u00e6dit,\n Occultum quatiente animo tortore flagellum.\"\n --JUV., _Sat._, xiii., 193.\n\n[659] Matt. xiii. 15.\n\n[660] Prov. xvii. 12.\n\n[661] Prov. xxvi. 4.\n\n[662] Prov. xxvi. 5.\n\n[663] Prov. xxix. 11.\n\n[664] Prov. xxvi. 8.\n\n[665] Prov. xxvi. 6.\n\n[666] Prov. xxvi. 7.\n\n[667] Prov. xxvi. 9.\n\n[668] Prov. xxvi. 10. This rendering Delitzsch obtained by altering the\nvowel points in the first \u05e9\u05c2\u05db\u05b5\u05e8 into \u05e9\u05b0\u05c2\u05db\u05b7\u05e8, and the sense is good, if a\nlittle far-fetched. On the other hand, the received reading gives a\nplain though a somewhat insipid meaning: \"Much produces all,\"--whoever\nhas a little and uses it well quickly gets more,--\"but he that hires a\nfool is as he who hires passers by,\" _i.e._ the employment of a fool is\na barren undertaking which practically leads to nothing.\n\n[669] Prov. xxvi. 11.\n\n[670] Prov. xxviii. 26; _cf._ ix. 8 and xxiii. 9.\n\n[671] Prov. xxvi. 12.\n\n[672] \u05e0\u05b8\u05d1\u05b8\u05dc, Psalm xiv. 1.\n\n\n\n\n XXVII.\n\n _LIVING DAY BY DAY._\n\n \"Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day\n will bring forth.\"--PROV. xxvii. 1.\n\n \"The grave and destruction are never satisfied; and the eyes of\n men are never satisfied;\" and LXX. adds, \"An abomination to the\n Lord is he who sets his eye, and undisciplined men uncontrolled in\n tongue.\"--PROV. xxvii. 20.\n\n \"Whoso keepeth the fig tree shall eat the fruit thereof, so he\n that waits on his Lord eats of the honour.\"--PROV. xxvii. 18.\n\n\nHere is a wholesome lesson for us. We are to trust no future, however\npleasant; we are to dwell in no past, however honourable. Life consists\nof a present, given to us day by day; this is our whole wealth;\nsquandered, it cannot be recovered; neglected, it withers as a leaf.\nTitus, the Roman Emperor, would say in the evening, when he had omitted\nhis duties or failed in his purposes, _Perdidi diem_, \"I have lost a\nday;\"--yes, that lost day is lost for ever; other days may come, but not\nthat one; the duties of that day may be performed afterwards or by other\nhands, but still the day is lost, because it passed away empty. The\nthief which cheats us of our days, and beggars us of our wealth, is the\nspecious thought that to-morrow belongs to us. The illusion is as old as\nthe world, but is to-day as fresh and powerful as ever. We have to shake\nourselves free of a spell, and awake out of a dream, to see that when\nto-morrow comes it is already to-day.\n\nWe only begin to live in any true and satisfactory sense when we have\nlearnt to take each day by itself, and to use it as if it were our\nlast, and indeed as if it were our all; dismissing the thought of\nto-morrow as a mere phantom which for ever evades our grasp. Life is a\nmosaic, a large work shaping on the wall or in the dome of some vast\ncathedral which eye hath not yet seen; and it can only be effectually\nwrought if, with minute and concentrated care, the little piece of\ncoloured glass which we call To-day is duly fixed into its bedding and\nfitted exactly to its immediate neighbours. \"Why do you work with such\nintensity?\" the great artist was once asked; \"Because I work for\neternity,\" was the answer. And that is why each day is of such\nimportance; that is why each day demands all our thought and care:\neternity is made up of days, and the present day is all of eternity\nthat we can ever possess.\n\nIt is well for us then each morning to take the day fresh from God's\nhands, and at once to throw our whole soul into it, and to live it\nwith a pure intensity, a sense of solemn and joyful responsibility.\n\n \"Oh, Day, if I squander a wavelet of thee,\n A mite of my twelve-hours' treasure,\n The least of thy gazes or glances\n (Be they grants thou art bound to or gifts above measure),\n One of thy choices or one of thy chances\n (Be they tasks God imposed thee or freaks of thy pleasure),--\n My Day, if I squander such labour or leisure,\n Then shame fall on Asolo, mischief on me.\"[673]\n\nBut it may be said, Is not this the life of a mere butterfly? Is it\nnot the mark of a prudent man to work with his eye on the\nfuture,--\"Prepare thy work without, and make it ready for thee in the\nfield, and afterwards build thine house\"?[674] Is it not just what we\nhave to complain of in the foolish man that he ignores to-morrow,--\"A\nprudent man seeth the evil and hideth himself, but the simple pass on\nand suffer for it\"?[675]\n\nHere is an apparent contradiction which requires reflection. And the\ndifficulty increases when we remember that most worthy works are the\nlabour of years: an architect lays his plans for a great building\nwhich he can hardly hope to see finished in his own lifetime; an\nauthor spends days and months and years in the preparation of\nmaterials, and must depend on the uncertain future for a time to shape\nthem into a book; a statesman, in proportion as he is wise, avoids\nwhat is called a hand-to-mouth policy, and lays his plans with his eye\non distant possibilities, well knowing that his immediate actions are\nliable to misunderstanding, and may prove to be a complete failure\nunless the opportunity is accorded him of realizing his far-reaching\nschemes. And, in the same way, youth is spent in education which\nderives all its value from the expected years of manhood, and all the\ndays of a good life are necessarily a preparation for that which is to\ncome after: we must study in order that we may teach; we must train\nourselves for duties which will come upon us, as we may reasonably\nsuppose, in some distant future. Yet our to-morrow is unknown; we are\nnot to boast ourselves of it; we cannot tell what a day may bring\nforth, and must therefore live only in to-day.\n\nNow the solution of this difficulty leads us to one of the profoundest\nof all spiritual truths. It is this: No life can be worth anything at\nall apart from the Eternal God, and faith in Him. Life cannot be really\nlived if it is merely \"a measure of sliding sand\" taken \"from under the\nfeet of the years.\" Our swift days cannot be effectually and wisely used\nunless we are linked with Him who embraces in Himself the past, the\npresent, and the future. Our work, whatever it may be, cannot be rightly\ndone unless we are, and know ourselves to be, in the great Taskmaster's\nsight. The proper use of each day can only be made if we are confident\nthat our times are in His hands; only in this quiet assurance can we\nhave composure and detachment of spirit enough to give our whole\nstrength to the duty in hand. We must be sure that the Master-Artist\nknows the whole mosaic, and is ordering all the parts, before we can\nsurrender ourselves to the task of putting to-day's piece into its\nplace; we must have complete faith in the Architect who is designing the\nwhole structure, before we can have our mind at leisure from itself to\nchip our block of stone or to carve our tiny gurgoyle. We can only live\nin the present, making the most of that which is really ours, on\ncondition that we have God as our Future, relieving us of all anxious\ncare, and assuring to us just strength for to-day.\n\nThus our text has an implied contrast, which we may draw out in this\nway: \"Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day\nmay bring forth;\" but boast thyself in God all the day long,[676] for\nthou knowest that He will bring forth righteousness, wisdom, and love\ncontinually.\n\nNow let us follow out some of the consequences of this spiritual\nattitude. Examine the condition of these restless human hearts all\naround us without God. They are all toiling for to-morrow. Here is one\nmaking money, as it is called; he is looking forward to laying aside\nso many thousands this year; in a few more years he hopes to realize a\nround sum which will relieve him from the necessity of toil and of\nfurther money-making. His eye is set upon that goal. At last he\nreaches it. Now his desire should be satisfied, but no, \"Sheol and\nAbaddon are never satisfied, and the eyes of man are never\nsatisfied.\"[677] He does not stay a night at the desired goal; he is\noff before sunset; all the strain and the fret must be faced over\nagain. Or look at the boundless ambition which possesses godless men;\nhonours achieved only whet their appetite for more. We need not assume\nthat the ambition is unworthy; all we have to notice is its\ninsatiability; in politics, in literature, in art, in social\ndistinction, it is like Sheol and Abaddon,--a maw that ever opens; a\ngulf that can swallow anything and everything, yet never be filled.\nThe LXX. addition[678] seems to regard this uncontrolled desire as the\nmark of deficient culture; and, spiritually speaking, no doubt it is.\nMen without God are always uncultured; they have not found the centre\nof their being, they have not procured the key-stone to their\naccumulated knowledge, and it is in consequence, not an arch through\nwhich they can travel to any goal, but a confused pile which blocks\nthe way. These desperate strivings and loud-tongued, undisciplined\ndesires are an abomination to the Lord, because they mar His mighty\nplan and introduce disorder where He intended order, discord where He\nintended harmony, deformity where He intended beauty. They are the\nwork of egoism instead of theism.\n\nIt is needless to dwell upon the heart-sores and the disappointments\nwhich fall to the lot of the people whom we are thinking of. What\nghastly mockery the morrows on which they counted prove to be! In some\nlonely and rocky island, girdled by the moaning of the dreary seas,\nand cut off from all the interests which gave to life its excitement,\negotism ends its days. Or it is on some restless couch, surrounded by\nall the outward trappings of wealth and power, that the dying spirit\ncries, \"My kingdom for an inch of time!\" The man who by his brilliant\ngenius has drawn all his generation after him passes, bearing \"through\nEurope the pageant of his bleeding heart,\" to a hopeless grave. The\nwoman who has achieved the end of her ambition, ruling the courts of\nfashion, the acknowledged queen of salons, ends her days with a sense\nof frustration, cynical in her contempt for the world which was\nfoolish enough to follow and admire her.\n\nBut, on the other hand, here is one who boasts himself in God.\n\n \"Lord, it belongs not to my care,\"\n\nis the language of his spirit,\n\n \"Whether I die or live;\n To love and serve Thee is my share,\n And that Thy grace must give.\"\n\nThe first thing that strikes you in him in his perfect peace. His mind\nis stayed on God. The future has no terrors for him, nor has it any\njoys. God is all in all to him, and God is his now. His treasure is in\npossession, and moth and rust do not corrupt it, nor can thieves break\nthrough or steal. To say that he is contented seems too mild a term for\nso positive and joyous a calm. But in contrast with the discontent which\nprevails everywhere outside of God, it is worth while to dilate on this\npassive virtue of contentment. That endless worry about little things\nhas ceased: he is not annoyed because some one fails to recognise him;\nhe is not affected by the malicious or scandalous things which are said\nabout him; he is not anxious for human recognition, and is therefore\nnever distressed because others are more courted than he is; he knows\nnothing of that malignant passion of jealousy which is worse than the\ncruelty of wrath and the flooding of anger;[679] he does not want wealth\nand he does not dread poverty. He says:--\n\n \"Some have too much, yet still do crave;\n I little have, and seek no more:\n They are but poor though much they have,\n And I am rich with little store:\n They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;\n They lack, I leave; they pine, I live.\"[680]\n\nWhen we have entered into this Divine content and are made by our\nabsolute trust in God free from care for the future, it is wonderful\nhow quick we become to see good in apparent evils. To the world this\nis so incredible that it suspects insincerity, but there is nothing\nmore sincere and more real. A poor child who was blind found the\ngreatest blessing in the affliction, saying, \"You see, I can give more\nto the Missionary Society than the other children, because I can knit\nin the dark, and have not to spend money on candles.\" You go to one of\nGod's children expecting to find him broken down and rebellious under\nsome great and undeserved calamity, but you find that he has\ndiscovered a blessing in the loss before you get there, and is\nactually rejoicing, or at any rate he is replying to all provocations,\n\"The Lord gave and the Lord took away; blessed be the name of the\nLord.\" He is afflicted, but you cannot think of him as afflicted, for\n\"all the days of the afflicted are evil, but he that is of a cheerful\nspirit hath a continual feast.\"[681]\n\nYes, it is that illusive and imaginary morrow that robs us of our\npeace; it is the misgiving, the anxious care, the dark foreboding. But\nwhen we put God our Father in place of the morrow, and know that He\ncomprehends and sees all that we have need of, the peace which passes\nall understanding settles down upon our spirit, and steals into our\neyes, and breathes on our lips, and men perceive even in us why our\nFather is called \"the God of Peace.\"\n\nThe _second_ thing which strikes us in those who have learnt to make\ntheir boast in God rather than in the morrow is the service which they\nrender to their fellows. This is not only because they are able to\nturn their undivided attention to the duty which lies nearest, and to\ndo with all their heart what their hand finds to do, but the very\nspirit of serenity in which they live is a constant help and blessing\nto all who are around them. It may have been given to you to come into\ncontact with such a soul; in his presence your restlessness dies away,\nit seems as if your burning brow had been touched with a soothing\nhand; perhaps \"with half-open eyes you were treading the borderland\ndim 'twixt vice and virtue,\" and that quiet spirit seemed like a clear\nshaft of the dawn revealing where you trod; perhaps you were\nheart-broken with a great sorrow, and the restfulness and confidence\nof that strong soul gave you an indefinable consolation, hope broke\ninto your heart, and even joy. In receiving that help from what the\nman _was_ rather than from what he gave, you became aware that this\nwas the highest service that any human being can render to another. It\nis a great thing to succour the physical and material sufferings of\nmen; it is a greater to bring them clear truths and to give them some\nstimulus and guidance in the intellectual life; but it is greatest of\nall to communicate spiritual sustenance and power, for that means to\nbring souls into actual and conscious contact with God.\n\nOne of the noblest examples of this service to humanity is furnished\nin the life and the writings of St. Paul. His personal presence became\nthe new creation of that ancient heathen civilisation, and countless\nindividual souls were, through the inner life which he presented,\nbrought to a complete change and made new creatures in Christ. His\nwritings have been, ever since he died, a constant source of life and\nstrength to many generations of men. He has been misunderstood, \"the\nignorant and unstedfast have wrested\" what he wrote, but none the less\nhe has been to the Church a perpetual regenerator, and, as a great\nwriter[682] of our own day has declared, \"The doctrine of Paul will\narise out of the tomb where for centuries it has lain covered; it will\nedify the Church of the future; it will have the consent of happier\ngenerations, the applause of less superstitious ages.\" Now what is the\nsecret of this power? It is given in his own words, \"For to me to live\nis Christ, and to die is gain.\"[683] He was able to fling himself with\nthat passionate temerity into the present duty, he was able to preach\nthe word with that victorious vigour in season and out of season, just\nbecause the whole burden of the unknown future was rolled away from\nhim, and he, more than any man that ever lived, understood what it is\nto live just for to-day.\n\nEvery Christian may possess the same secret; it is the open secret of\nthe Sermon on the Mount; as our gracious Lord told us, we may be as\nthe lilies of the field and as the birds of the air, without anxiety\nor misgiving, knowing that our Heavenly Father cares for us. It is not\ngiven to us all to be great philanthropists, great reformers, great\npreachers, but it is put within the reach of all to render to others\nthe sweet service of abiding always in trustful and loving submission\nto God's will, and of shedding upon all the light of our peace.\n\nAnd this leads us to notice one _last feature_ of this true spiritual\nlife. It has an honour of its own, though it is not an earthly honour;\nit has a reward, though it is not a material reward. \"Whoso keepeth\nthe fig tree shall eat the fruit thereof, and he that waiteth on his\nmaster eats of the honour.\"[684] That is a saying which can only apply\nin a very modified degree to earthly service and human masters. How\nmany loyal servants of kings have been deserted by their lords at the\ncritical moment, and left to eat the fruit of disgrace and ignominy!\nBut the saying applies in its fulness to our Master Christ and His\nservice. Think of the Christian life under this simple figure; it is\nlike the careful cultivation of the fruit tree. He is the Vine. Our\nsole concern is to keep in touch with Him, to sit at His feet, to\nwatch for His fruit, to see that no other concern disturbs the quiet\nrelation of perfect loyalty and devotion to Him. Our aim is not to do\nour own business or seek our own ends, but to be sure that we are\nalways awake to His purposes and obedient to the demands which He\nmakes upon us. It is not ours to reason why, but it is ours to do at\nall costs whatsoever He bids us do to-day. We have nothing to do with\nto-morrow; we have no responsibility for the fruit, for no\nfruit-bearing power lies in us. All we have to do is to keep the fig\ntree. Now when we abide in this concentrated and whole-hearted\ndevotion to our Master,--when for us to live is Christ,--then honour\ncomes to us unsought, but not unwelcome. The fruit of service is to\nthe taste of the true servant the highest honour that he can imagine.\nWe need no apocalyptic vision to assure us. His word is enough,\nconfirmed as it is by a constant and growing experience. The servants\nof our Lord already stand before Him, holding in their hands the\ntalents which they have gained for Him; already they hear His gracious\n\"Well done,\" and the sound of it is more musical in their ears than\nall the acclamations of their fellow-creatures. This is their honour;\nwhat could they have more? they are counted one with Christ; they\nshared His travail, and now they share His satisfaction and His joy.\n\nAnd thus those who make their boast in God, and do not boast of the\nmorrow, find that the morrow itself becomes clear to them in the light\nof His countenance; they do in a sense know what it will bring forth:\nit will bring forth what they desire, for it will bring forth their\nFather's will; it will bring forth the victory and the glory of\nChrist. \"Henceforth ye shall see Him coming in the clouds of heaven.\"\nIs not that enough? When our hearts have learnt to hanker only after\nGod's will, to desire only Christ's victory, they may boast themselves\neven of to-morrow; for to-morrow holds in its bosom an assurance of\nblessing and joy.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[673] Browning, _Pippa Passes_.\n\n[674] Prov. xxiv. 27.\n\n[675] Prov. xxii. 3; xxvii. 12.\n\n[676] Psalm xliv. 8.\n\n[677] Prov. xxvii. 20.\n\n[678] See heading of chapter.\n\n[679] Prov. xxvii. 4.\n\n[680] Sir Edward Dyer (_b._ 1540).\n\n[681] Prov. xv. 15.\n\n[682] Matthew Arnold.\n\n[683] Phil. i. 21.\n\n[684] Prov. xxvii. 18.\n\n\n\n\n XXVIII.\n\n _AN ASPECT OF ATONEMENT._\n\n \"He that hideth (\u05de\u05b0\u05db\u05b7\u05e1\u05b6\u05bc\u05d4) his transgressions shall not prosper; but\n whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall obtain mercy.\"--PROV.\n xxviii. 13.\n\n \"Happy is the man that feareth alway; but he that hardeneth his\n heart shall fall into mischief.\"--PROV. xxviii. 14.\n\n \"The fear of the Lord tendeth to life, and he that hath it shall\n abide satisfied. He shall not be visited with evil.\"--PROV. xix. 23.\n\n \"By mercy and truth iniquity is atoned for, and by the fear of the\n Lord men depart from evil.\"--PROV. xvi. 6.\n\n\nThe Hebrew word (\u05db\u05b8\u05bc\u05e4\u05b7\u05e8) which is used for the idea of atonement is\none which originally signifies _to cover_. Sin is a hideous sore, a\nshocking deformity, which must be hidden from the eyes of men, and\nmuch more from the holy eyes of God. Thus the Old Testament speaks\nabout a Robe of Righteousness which is to be thrown over the ulcerated\nand leprous body of sin. Apart from this covering, the disease is seen\nworking out its sure and terrible results. \"A man that is laden with\nthe blood of any person shall flee unto the pit: let no man stay\nhim,\"[685] and though blood-guiltiness appears to us the worst of\nsins, all sin is alike in its issue; every sinner may be seen by\nseeing eyes \"fleeing unto the pit,\" and no man can stay him or\ndeliver him. Or, to vary the image, the sinful man is exposed to the\nviolence of justice, which beats like a storm upon all unprotected\nheads; he needs to be covered; he needs some shelter, some\nhiding-place, or he must be swept away.\n\nBut the objection which immediately occurs to us is this: what is the\nuse of covering sin if the sin itself remains? The disease is not cured\nbecause a decent garment is drawn over the suffering part; indeed, it is\nnot hard to conceive a case in which the covering might aggravate the\nmischief. If the idea of covering is to be of any service, it must be\ncleared from all misconception; there is a kind of hiding which may be\nruinous, a garment which may drive the disease inward and hasten its\ndeadly operation, a covert from the storm which may crush and stifle the\nperson whom it professes to protect. \"He that _covereth_ his\ntransgressions,\" in that way, \"shall not prosper.\" Every attempt to\nconceal from God or from man or from oneself that one is diseased with\nsin is ineffectual: every lame excuse which seeks to palliate the guilt;\nevery hypocritical pretence that the thing done has not been done, or\nthat it is not what men usually suppose it to be; every ingenious\nargumentation which seeks to represent sin as something other than sin,\nas a mere defect or taint in the blood, as a hereditary and unavoidable\nweakness, as an aberration of the mind for which one is not responsible,\nor as a merely conventional and artificial offence,--all such attempts\nat hiding must be failures, \"covering\" of that kind can be no atonement.\nQuite the reverse; this trifling with conscience, this deluded\nself-righteousness, is the worst possible aggravation of the sin. Hidden\nin that way, though it be, as it were, in the bowels of the earth, sin\nbecomes a poisonous gas, more noxious for confinement, and liable to\nbreak out in awful and devastating explosions.\n\nThe covering of sin[686] which is spoken of in xvi. 6 is of a very\ndifferent and of a quite particular kind. Combining this verse with\nthe others at the head of the chapter, we may observe that every\neffectual \"covering\" of sin in God's sight involves three\nelements,--confession, forsaking, and a changed practice.\n\n_First_, there is confession. This appears on the face of it to be a\nparadox: the only way of covering sin is to uncover it. But it is\nstrictly true. We must make a clean breast of it; we must acknowledge\nits full extent and enormity; we must spare the patient ear of God no\ndetail of our guilt. The foul, explosive gases must be let out into\nthe open, since every attempt to confine them increases their\ndestructive power. The running sore must be exposed to the Physician's\neye, since every rag put over it to hide it becomes steeped in its\ndefiling tides. It is true, confession is a painful and a weary task:\nit is like removing a heap of dust and refuse by spadefuls,--each bit\nas it is disturbed fills the atmosphere with choking particles and\nnoisome smells; worse and worse is revealed the farther we go. We came\nto confess a single fault, and we found that it was but a broken\nsherd lying on the foul and pestilential heap. Confession leads to\nconfession, discovery to discovery. It is terribly humiliating. \"Am I\nthen so bad as this?\" is the horrified cry as each candid admission\nshows only more and worse that must be admitted. True confession can\nnever be made into a priest's ear,--to men we can only confess the\nwrongs which we have done to men; but true confession is the awful\ntale of what we have done to God, against whom only we have sinned and\ndone evil in His sight. It is sometimes urged that confession to a\npriest gives the penitent relief: possibly, but it is a false relief;\nsince the eye of the priest is not omniscient, the sinner confesses\nonly what he chooses, brings the broken sherd, and receives absolution\nfor that in lieu of removing the whole heap of abominations that\nunderlie. When we have gone as far as we can in laying ourselves bare\nto man, there remain vast untraversed tracts of our life and our mind\nwhich are reserved; \"Private road\" is written on all the approaches,\nand trespassers are invariably prosecuted. It is only to God that a\nreal confession can be made, because we know that to Him all is\nnecessarily evident; with Him no subterfuges avail; He traverses those\nuntraversed tracts; there are no private roads from which He is\nexcluded; He knoweth our thoughts afar off.\n\nThe first step in the \"covering\" of sin is to realize this. If our sins\nare to be really covered they must first be laid bare; we must frankly\nown that all things are open to Him with whom we have to do; we must get\naway from the priests and into the hands of the High Priest; we must\nabjure the confessional and bring God Himself into the secret places of\nour hearts to search us and try us and see if there be any evil way in\nus. The reserve, and the veilings, which every individual cannot but\nmaintain between himself and all other individuals, must be torn away,\nin full and absolute confession to God Himself.\n\n_Secondly._ There is a confession, especially that fostered by the\nhabit of confessing to priests, which is unaccompanied by any\nforsaking of the evil, or any departing from iniquity in general. Many\ntimes have men gone to their priests to receive absolution beforehand\nfor the sin which they intended to commit; or they have postponed\ntheir confession to their deathbeds, when there will be, as they\nsuppose, no further sins to turn from. Confession of that kind is\ndevoid of all significance; it covers no sins, it really only\naggravates them. No confession is of the least avail--and indeed no\nreal confession can be made to God at all--unless the heart turns away\nfrom the evil which is confessed, and actually departs at once, so far\nas it knows and is able, from all iniquity.\n\nThe glib language of confession has been and is a deadly snare to\nmultitudes. How easy it is to say, or even to musically chant, \"We have\ndone that we ought not to have done; we have left undone that which we\nought to have done.\" There is no pain in such a confession if we once\ndistinctly admit that it is a normal and natural state of mind for us to\nbe in, and that as we say it to-day, so we shall say it to-morrow, and\nagain the next day to the end. But real confession is so painful, and\neven heart-rending, because it is only of value when we begin from that\nmoment onwards \"to do what we ought to do, and to leave undone what we\nought not to do.\" It is well for us, perhaps, to confess not so much\nsin in the abstract as our own particular transgressions. Sin is too\nshadowy a monster for us to definitely avoid and forsake; like death,\nits kinsman,--Death of whom Milton says:--\n\n \"What _seemed_ his head\n The _likeness_ of a kingly crown had on,\"--\n\nSin is formless, vague, impalpable. But our own individual\ntransgressions can be fixed and defined; bringing ourselves to the\ntest of the Law, we can say particularly, \"This practice of mine is\ncondemned, this habit of mine is sinful, this point of my character is\nevil, this reticence, this indolence, this reluctance, in confessing\nChrist and in serving His cause, is all wrong;\" and then we can\ndefinitely turn our back on the practice or the habit, we can\ndistinctly get rid of the blot in our character, we can fly this\nguilty silence, rouse ourselves from our selfish indolence. \"We live\nto grow less like what we have been;\" and it is this act of the will,\nthis resolute purpose, this loathing what once you loved, and turning\ntowards that which once you ignored,--it is, in a word, the twin\nprocess of repentance and conversion, that constitutes the second act\nin this \"covering\" of sin. Not, of course, that in a moment the\ntyranny of old habits can be broken, or the virtue of new activities\nacquired; but \"the forsaking\" and \"the departing from\" are\ninstantaneous exertions of the will. Zaccheus, directly the Lord\nspeaks to him, stands forth, and breaks with his sins, renounces his\nextortions, resolving to make amends for the past, and enters on a new\nline of conduct, promising to give the half of his goods to the poor.\nThat is the essential seal of every true confession: \"Whoso\nconfesseth and forsaketh\" his transgressions.\n\n_Thirdly._ This has led us to see that the confession of sins and the\nconversion from them must issue in a positive practice of mercy and\ntruth, in order to make the process of which we are speaking complete:\n\"By mercy and truth iniquity is atoned for.\"\n\nIt is this part of the \"covering\" which is so easily, so frequently,\nand so fatally overlooked. It is supposed that sins can be hidden\nwithout being removed, and that the covering of what is called imputed\nrighteousness will serve instead of the covering of actual\nrighteousness. To argue against this view theoretically is at the\npresent day happily quite superfluous; but it is still necessary to\ncontend against its subtle practical effects. There is no verity more\nwholesome and more needed than the one contained in this proverb. Sin\nmay be summed up in two clauses: it is the Want of Mercy and it is the\nWant of Truth. All our illconduct to our fellow-men comes from the\ncruelty and hardness of our selfish nature. Lust and greed and\nambition are the outcome of pitilessness; we injure the weak and ruin\nthe helpless, and trample on our competitors, and stamp out the poor;\nour eye does not pity. Again, all our offence against God is\ninsincerity or wilful lying. We are false to ourselves, we are false\nto one another, and so we become false to the unseen verities, and\nfalse to God. When a human spirit denies the spiritual world and the\nspiritual Cause which can alone account for it, is it not what Plato\nused to call \"a lie in the soul\"? It is the deep inward and vital\ncontradiction of consciousness; it is equivalent to saying, \"I am not\nI,\" or, \"That which is, is not.\"\n\nNow when we have lived in sin, without mercy or without truth, or\nwithout both; when our life up to a certain point has been a flagrant\nselfishness of absolute indifference to our fellows, or a flagrant lie\ndenying Him in whom we live and move and have our being; or when, as\nis so often the fact, the selfishness and the falseness have gone\ntogether, an inextricable and mutually dependent pair of evils, there\ncan be no real covering of the sin, unless selfishness gives place to\nmercy and falsehood to truth. No verbal confession can possibly avail,\nno turning from the past iniquities, however genuine for the time, can\nhave any permanent significance, unless the change is a reality, an\nobvious, living, and working fact. If a man supposes that he has\nbecome religious, but remains cruel and selfish, pitiless, unmerciful\nto his fellow-men, depend upon it that man's religion is vain; the\natonement in which he trusts is a fiction, and avails no more than the\nhecatombs which Carthage offered to Melcarth availed to gain a victory\nover Rome. If a man counts himself saved, but remains radically\nuntrue, false in his speech, insincere in his professions, careless in\nhis thought about God, unjust in his opinions about men and the world,\nhe is certainly under a lamentable delusion. Though he has, as he\nthinks, believed, he has not believed to the saving of his soul;\nthough he has undergone a change, he has changed from one lie to\nanother, and is in no way better off. It is by mercy and truth that\niniquity can be covered.\n\nNow it will be generally admitted that we do not take the course which\nhas just been described unless we have the fear of God before our\neyes. Nothing but the thought of His holiness and the awe which it\ninspires, and in some cases even, nothing but the absolute terror of\nHim who can by no means clear the guilty, moves the heart of man to\nconfession, turns him away from his sins, or inclines him to mercy and\ntruth. When the fear of God is removed from men's eyes they not only\ncontinue in sin, but they quickly come to believe that they have no\nsins to confess; for indeed when God is put out of the question that\nis in a certain sense true. It is a mere fact of observation,\nconfirmed now by many changing experiences of humanity, that it is \"by\nthe fear of the Lord men depart from iniquity;\" and it is very\nsignificant to notice how many of those who have entirely put away the\nfear of the Lord from their own eyes have strongly advocated keeping\nit before the eyes of others as the most convenient and economical\npolice resource.[687] Many fervent free-thinkers are thankful that\ntheir opinions are only held by a minority, and have no wish to see\nthe whole of society committed to the cult which they would have us\nbelieve is all that their own religious nature requires.\n\nBut supposing that any one of us is led into the position of\nconfession and conversion and amendment which is described in these\nProverbs: what follows? That person, says the text, \"shall obtain\nmercy.\" The gracious Father immediately, unconditionally, and\nabsolutely pardons. This is the burden of the Old Testament, and it is\ncertainly not repealed by the New. \"If we confess our sins, He is\nfaithful and just to forgive us our sins.\" \"Repent, and be\nconverted,\" said St. Peter to the crowd at Pentecost, \"that your sins\nmay be blotted out.\" The New Testament is indeed on this point the\nlouder and the clearer echo of the Old. The New Testament explains\nthat saying which sounds so strange in the mouth of a perfectly just\nand Holy God, \"I, even I, am He that blotteth out thy transgressions\nfor Mine own sake.\"[688] Human theologies have imagined obstacles in\nthe way, but God never admitted them for a moment. Clear as the truth\nthat the soul which sins should die, was the promise that the soul\nwhich turned from its sin, and did that which is righteous in the eyes\nof the Lord, should live. No earthly father, frankly and\nunconditionally forgiving his penitent, sobbing child, could be so\nprompt, so eager as God. While the prodigal is yet a great way off the\nFather runs to meet him, and hides all his broken confessions in the\nrush of His embrace.\n\nBut we hesitate to admit and rejoice in this grand truth because of an\nuneasy fear that it is ignoring what is called the Atonement of\nChrist. It is a very proper hesitation, so long as we settle it within\nourselves that these sweet and beautiful utterances of the Old\nTestament cannot possibly be limited or reversed by that Gospel which\ncame to give effect and fulfilment to them. Is not the solution of any\ndifficulty that has occurred to us to be found here? The sacrifice and\nthe work of Christ create in the human soul those conditions which we\nhave been considering. He came to give repentance unto Israel. It is\nHis patient love in bearing all our infirmities and sins, His\nmysterious self-offering on the Cross, that can effectually bring us\nto confession, conversion, and amendment. Our hearts may have been\nhard as the nether millstone, but at the Cross they are broken and\nmelted. No stern denunciation of sin has ever moved our stubbornness;\nbut as we realize what sin did to Him, when He became sin for us, the\nfear of the Lord falls upon us, we tremble, and cry, What shall we do\nto be saved? Then again, it is His perfect holiness, the beauty of\nthose \"stainless years He passed beneath the Syrian blue,\" which wakes\nin us the hankering desire for purity and goodness, and makes us turn\nwith a genuine disgust from the sins which must seem so loathsome in\nHis sight. His \"neither do I condemn thee; go, and sin no more,\" gives\nus a more burning hatred of sin than all the self-righteous censures\nand condemnations of the Pharisees. It is in the pages of the Gospels\nthat we have first understood what concrete goodness is; it has risen\nupon our night like a clear, liquid star, and the passion of it has\nentered into our souls. And then, finally, it is the Risen Lord, unto\nwhom all power is given in heaven and in earth, that can really\ntransform our nature, flood our heart with love, and fill our mind\nwith truth, so that, in the language of the proverb, mercy and truth\nmay atone for iniquity.\n\nIs it not because Christ by His coming, by His living, by His dying,\nby His risen power, produces in the believer repentance and confession\nof sins, conversion and departing from sin, regeneration and actual\nholiness, that we say He has covered our sins? What meaning can be\nattached to Atonement apart from its effects? And in what other way,\nwe may ask, could He really give us such a covering or atonement,\nthan by creating in us a clean heart and renewing a right spirit\nwithin us? Sometimes, by a not unnatural confusion of language, we\nspeak of the sacrificial death of our Lord as if it, apart from the\neffects produced in the believing heart, were in itself the Atonement.\nBut that is not the language of the New Testament, which employs the\nidea of reconciliation[689] where the Old Testament would employ the\nidea of atoning; and clearly there can be no reconciliation\naccomplished between man and God until, not only God is reconciled to\nman, but man also is reconciled to God. And it is when we come to\nobserve more accurately the language of the New Testament that this\nstatement of the Proverbs is seen to be no contradiction, but an\nanticipation, of it. Only the regenerate soul, that in which the\ngraces of the Christ-life, mercy and truth, have been implanted by\nChrist, is really reconciled with God, _i.e._, effectually atoned. And\nthough the framer of the proverb had but a dim conception of the way\nin which the Son of God would come to regenerate human hearts and make\nthem in harmony with the Father, yet he saw clearly what Christians\nhave too often overlooked, and expressed tersely what theology has too\noften obscured, that every effectual Atonement must include in itself\nthe actual, moral regeneration of the sinner. And further, whoever\nwrote the verse which stands at the head of our chapter understood\nwhat many preachers of the Gospel have left in perplexing obscurity,\nthat God would necessarily, from His very nature, provide the offering\nand the sacrifice on the ground of which every repentant soul that\nturns to Him could be immediately and freely forgiven.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[685] Prov. xxviii. 17.\n\n[686] It may be necessary to point out to the reader that in\napproaching the subject of atonement from the standpoint of the book\nof Proverbs, and merely in the expository treatment of the passages\nbefore us, the so-called objective ground of atonement in the\nsacrifice of Christ does not come into view, but its necessity becomes\nmanifest as each step in the exposition reveals how impossible it\nwould be for us, apart from the work of our Lord Jesus Christ, to\nrealize those conditions which are here laid down as indispensable to\npardon and acceptance with God.\n\n[687] Voltaire rose once from the table at Ferney, where some atheists\nwere discussing their views. He said he could not let his servants\nhear this talk, for they would rob and murder him if that was true.\n\n[688] Isa. xliii. 25.\n\n[689] See Rom. v. 11. This is the only place in the New Testament\nwhere even in the Authorised Version the word \"atonement\" occurs. But\nthe contention of the text is not one of words, but of facts. Whatever\nterms are used, the Gospels and the Epistles all agree in identifying\nthe salvation of God with an actual and practical righteousness\nwrought out by the Holy Spirit in the lives of those who believe in\nChrist as their Saviour.\n\n\n\n\n XXIX.\n\n _THE NEED OF REVELATION._\n\n \"Where no vision is, a people casts off restraint, but he that\n keepeth the law is happy.\"--PROV. xxix. 18.\n\n\nThe form of the proverb shows that we are not to treat the vision and\nthe law as opposite, but rather as complementary terms. Visions are,\nit is true, especially the mark of the prophets, and the law is often\nconfined in a special sense to the Pentateuch; but there is a much\nwider usage of the words, according to which the two together express,\nwith tolerable completeness, what we mean by _Revelation_. The vision\nmeans a perception of God and His ways, and is quite as applicable to\nMoses as to Isaiah; and, on the other hand, the law covers all the\ndistinct and articulate instruction which God gives to His people in\nany of His ways of self-communication. \"Come ye,\" says Isaiah,[690]\n\"and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God\nof Jacob; and He will teach us of His ways, and we will walk in His\npaths: for out of Zion shall go forth _the law_, and the word of the\nLord from Jerusalem;\" where the whole context shows that, not the\nMosaic Law, but rather a new and particular declaration of the Lord's\nwill, is referred to.\n\nBut while the vision and the law are not to be treated as opposites,\nit is possible to distinguish between them. The vision is the actual\ncontact between God and the human spirit, which is the necessary\ncondition of any direct revelation; the law is the recorded result of\nsuch a revelation, either passed from mouth to mouth by tradition, or\nwritten permanently in a book.\n\nWe may then a little amplify the proverb for the sake of exposition:\n\"Where there is no living revelation, no perceived contact between man\nand God, there the bonds which hold society together are relaxed or\nbroken; but he that holds by the revelation that has been given,\nobeying the law, so far as it has been presented to him, happy is he.\"\n\nMan has need of a revelation; that is the assertion. Society, as an\nordered and happy body of men in which each person is rightly\nsubordinated to the whole, and in which law, as distinct from\nindividual caprice, prevails, requires a revealed law. The light of\nnature is good, but it is not sufficient. The common sense of mankind\nis powerful, but not powerful enough. In the absence of a real and\nvalid declaration of God's will times must come when the elemental\npassions of human nature will break out with unrestrained violence,\nthe teachings of morality will be disputed, their authority will be\ndenied, and their yoke will be broken; the links which hold the state\nand the community together will snap, and the slow growths of ages may\ndisappear in a moment. It is not difficult to show the truth of this\nassertion from experience. Every people that emerges from barbarism\nhas a vision and a law; a certain revelation which forms the\nfoundation, the sanction, the bond of its corporate existence. When\nyou can point to a tribe or a group of tribes that know nothing of\nGod, and therefore have no idea of revelation, you at once assure us\nthat the people are sunk in a hopeless savagery. We are, it is true,\ninclined to deny the term revelation to those systems of religion\nwhich lie outside of the Bible, but it is difficult to justify such a\ncontraction of view. God has not left Himself anywhere without a\nwitness. The more closely we examine the multitudinous religions of\nthe earth, the more clearly does it appear that each of them had at\nits origin a definite, however limited, revelation. The idea of One\nall-powerful, good, and wise, God is found at the beginning of each\nfaith that can be traced back far enough, and the actual condition of\nheathen systems always suggests a decline from a higher and a purer\nreligion. We may say, then, with much plausibility, that no lasting\nand beneficial form of human society has ever existed apart from a\nvision and a law.\n\nBut leaving the wide field of comparative religions, do we not see an\nillustration of the truth of the text in the European countries which\nare more subject to our observation? In proportion as a people loses\nits faith in revelation it falls into decay. This was made manifest in\nthe experience of the French Revolution. When the Jacobins had\nemancipated themselves from the idea of God, and had come out into the\nclear light of reason, so terribly did they \"cast off restraint\" that\ntheir own leader, Robespierre, endeavoured with a feverish haste to\nrestore the recognition of God, assuming himself the position of high\npontiff to the Supreme Being. The nearest approach that the world has\nprobably ever seen to a government founded on Atheism was this\ngovernment of the French Revolution, and a more striking commentary\non this text could hardly be desired.\n\nBut the need of a revelation can be apprehended, apart from all\nappeals to history, by simply studying the nature of the spirit of\nman. Man must have an object of worship, and that object must be such\nas to command his worship. Auguste Comte thought to satisfy this need\nof the heart by suggesting Humanity as the _Grand \u00catre_, but Humanity\nwas and is nothing but an abstraction. Feeling this himself, he\nrecommended the worship of woman, and he prostrated his heart before\nClotilde de Vaux; but sacred and beautiful as a man's love of a woman\nmay be, it is no substitute for worship. We must have quite another\nthan ourselves and our own kind, if our hearts are to find their rest.\nWe must have an Almighty, an Infinite; we must have one who is Love.\nUntil his spirit is worshipping, man cannot realize himself, or attain\nthe height of his intended stature.\n\nAgain, man must have an assurance of his own immortality. While he\nbelieves himself to be mortal, a creature of a day, and that an\nuncertain day, it is impossible for him to rise much above the level\nof other ephemeral things. His pursuits must be limited, and his aims\nmust be confined. His affections must be chilled by the shadow of\ndeath, and in proportion as he has nobly striven and tenderly loved,\nhis later years must be plunged in hopeless gloom, because his efforts\nhave been ineffectual and his beloved have gone from him. No juggling\nwith terms; no half-poetic raptures about \"the choir invisible,\" can\nmeet the mighty craving of the human heart. Man must be immortal, or\nhe is not man. \"He thinks he was not made to die.\"\n\nBut to meet these demands of the spirit what, apart from revelation,\ncan avail? That metaphysics is futile practically all men are agreed.\nOnly the philosopher can follow the dialectics which are to prove the\nexistence of God and the immortality of the soul. And even the\nphilosopher seems to grow pale and wizened in the process of his\ndemonstration, and wins at last a vantage-ground of cold conviction,\nto find that there is no comfort there. But can science offer the\nassurance which philosophy was unable to give? Let us listen to the\nconclusion of a scientific writer on this subject, one who has lost\nhis hold on revelation and can realize a little of what he has lost.\n\n \"The highest and most consoling beliefs of the human mind,\" he says,\n \"are to a great extent bound up with the Christian religion. If we\n ask ourselves frankly how much, apart from this religion, would\n remain of faith in a God, and in a future state of existence, the\n answer must be, very little. Science traces everything back to\n primeval atoms and germs, and there it leaves us. How came these\n atoms and energies there, from which this wonderful universe of\n worlds has been evolved by inevitable laws? What are they in their\n essence, and what do they mean? The only answer is, It is\n unknowable. It is \"behind the veil,\" and may be anything. Spirit may\n be matter, matter may be spirit. We have no faculties by which we\n can even form a conception, from any discoveries of the telescope or\n microscope, from any experiments in the laboratory, or from any\n facts susceptible of real human knowledge, of what may be the first\n cause underlying all these phenomena.\n\n \"In like manner we can already, to a great extent, and probably in a\n short time shall be able to the fullest extent to trace the whole\n development of life from the lowest to the highest; from protoplasm,\n through monera, infusoria, mollusca, vertebrata, fish, reptile and\n mammal, up to man; and the individual man from the microscopic egg,\n through the various stages of its evolution up to birth, childhood,\n maturity, decline, and death. We can trace also the development of\n the human race through enormous periods of time, from the modest\n beginnings up to its present level of civilisation, and show how\n arts, languages, morals, and religions have been evolved gradually\n by human laws from primitive elements, many of which are common in\n their ultimate form to man and the animal creation.\n\n \"But here also science stops. Science can give no account of how\n these germs and nucleated cells, endowed with these marvellous\n capacities for evolution, came into existence, or got their\n intrinsic powers. Nor can science enable us to form the remotest\n conception of what will become of life, consciousness, and\n conscience, when the material conditions with which they are always\n associated, while within human experience, have been dissolved by\n death, and no longer exist. We know as little, in the way of\n accurate and demonstrable knowledge, of our condition after death as\n we do of our existence--if we had an existence--before birth.\"[691]\n\nScience frankly confesses that she can tell us nothing of the things\nwhich it most concerns us to know. On those things she is no farther\nadvanced than she was in the days of Aristotle. Never do we feel how\nmuch men need a revelation so vividly as when we have grasped the\nfirst principles of such a great scientific thinker as Mr. Herbert\nSpencer, and realize how far he is able to take us and how soon he has\nto leave us. How does it meet the craving of the soul for God to show\nus the slow stages by which man became a living soul? As well might\nyou try to satisfy the musician's ear by telling him how his art had\ngrown from the primitive tom-tom of the savage. How can it help the\nlife to be lived wisely, lovingly, and well, in the midst of the\nuncertainty of the world, and confronted by the certainty of death, to\nbe told that our physical structure is united by a thousand immediate\nlinks with that of other mammals. Such a fact is insignificant; the\nsupreme fact is that we are not like other mammals in the most\nimportant respects; we have hearts that long and yearn, minds which\nenquire and question--_they_ have not; we want God, our heart and our\nflesh crieth out for the living God, and we demand an eternal\nlife--_they_ do not.\n\nHow can science pretend that what she does not know is not knowledge,\nwhile she has to confess that she does not know precisely the things\nwhich it most concerns us as men to know? How can the spirit of man be\ncontent with the husks which she gives him to eat, when his whole\nnature craves the kernel? What probability is there that a man will\nclose his eyes to the sun because another person, very clever and\nindustrious, has shut himself up in a dark cellar, and tries to\npersuade him that his candle is all the light he may legitimately use,\nand what cannot be seen by his candle is not real?\n\nNo, science may not prove revelation, but she proves our need of it.\nShe does her utmost, she widens her borders, she is more earnest, more\naccurate, more informed, more efficacious than ever; but she shows\nthat what man most wants she cannot give,--she bids him go elsewhere.\n\nBut now it may be said: It is one thing to prove that man needs a\nrevelation, and another to show that a revelation has been given. That\nis perfectly true, and this is not the place to adduce all the\nevidence which might prove that revelation is a reality; but what an\nadvance we have made on the cold, self-satisfied deism of the\neighteenth century, which maintained that the light of nature was\nenough, and revelation was quite superfluous, when the truest and most\ncandid voices of science are declaring with such growing clearness\nthat for the knowledge which revelation professes to give, revelation,\nand revelation alone, will suffice!\n\nWe Christians believe that we have a revelation, and we find that it\nsuffices. It gives us precisely those assurances about God and about\nthe soul without which we falter, grow bewildered, and begin to\ndespond. We have a vision and a law. Our Bible is the record of the\never-widening, ever-clearing vision of God. The power and authority of\nthe vision seem to be the more convincing, just because we are\npermitted to see the process of its development. Here we are able to\nstand with the seer and see, not the long \u00e6onian stages of creation\nwhich science has been painfully tracking out in these later days, but\nthe supreme fact, which science professes herself unable to see, that\nGod was the Author of it all. Here we are able to see the first\nimperfect conception of God which came in vision and in thought to the\npatriarch or sheikh in the earliest dawn of civilisation. Here we can\nobserve the conceptions clearing, through Moses, through the\nPsalmists, through the Prophets, until at last we have a vision of God\nin the person of His Son, who is the brightness of the Father's\nglory, the express image of His countenance. We see that He, the\nunseen Creator, is Love.\n\nOur Bible, too, is the record of a law,--a law of human conduct, the\nwill of God as applied to earthly life. At first the law is confined\nto a few primitive practices and outward observances; then it grows in\nperplexity and multiplication of details; and only after a long course\nof discipline, of effort and apparent failure, of teaching and\ndeliberate disobedience, is the law laid bare to its very roots, and\npresented in the simplified and self-evidencing form of the Sermon on\nthe Mount and the apostolic precepts.\n\nIt is not necessary to start with any particular theory about the\nBible, any more than it is necessary to know the substance of the sun\nbefore we can warm ourselves in his beams. It is not necessary to look\nfor scientific accuracy in the histories and treatises through which\nthe vision and the law are communicated to us. We know that the\nvessels are earthen, and the presupposition all through is that the\nlight was only growing from the glimmer of the dawn up to the perfect\nday. But we know, we are persuaded, that here, to seeing eyes and\nhumble hearts, is the revelation of God and of His will.\n\nNor is it only in the Bible that God speaks to us. There have been times\nin the history of Christendom--such times as the middle of the\neighteenth century--when though the Bible was in men's hands, it seemed\nto be almost a dead letter. \"There was no vision, and the people cast\noff restraint.\" It is by living men and women to whom He grants visions\nand reveals truths, that God maintains the purity and power of His\nrevelation to us. He came in vision to Fox and the early Friends, to\nZinzendorf and the early Moravians, to Wesley and the early Methodists.\nSeldom does a generation pass but some seers are sent to make the Word\nof God a living influence to their age. The vision is not always unmixed\nwith human error, and when it ceases to be living it may become\nobstructive, a cause of paralysis rather than of progress. But Augustine\nand Jerome, Benedict and Leo, Francis and Dominic, Luther and Calvin,\nIgnatius Loyola and Xavier, F\u00e9n\u00e9lon and Madame Guyon, Jonathan Edwards\nand Channing, Robertson and Maurice, Erskine and MacLeod Campbell, are\nbut examples of God's method all down the Christian ages. The vision\ncomes pure and fresh as if straight from the presence of God.\nTraditionalism crumbles away. Doubt retreats like a phantom of the\nnight. Mighty moral revolutions and spiritual awakenings are\naccomplished by the means of His chosen ones. And it should be our\ndesire and our joy to recognise and welcome these seers of God.\n\n\"He that keepeth the law, happy is he.\" It is a mournful thing to be\nwithout a revelation, and to grope in darkness at midday; to hold\none's mind in melancholy suspense, uncertain about God, about His\nwill, about the life eternal. But it is better to have no revelation\nthan to have it and disregard it. Honest doubt is full of necessary\nsorrow, but to believe and not to obey is the road to inevitable\nruin.[692] \"He that keepeth\"--yes, he that looks into revelation, not\nfor curiosity, but for a law by which to live; who listens to the wise\nprecepts, not in order to exclaim, \"How wise they are!\" but in order\nto act on them.\n\nThere are many professing Christians who are constantly plunged in\ngloom. Unbelievers may point the finger at them, and say, \"They\nbelieve in God, in salvation, and in heaven, but see what an effect it\nhas on them. Do they really believe?\" Oh, yes, they really believe,\nbut they do not obey; and no amount of faith brings any lasting\nhappiness apart from obedience. The law requires us to love God, to\nlove men; it requires us to abstain from all appearance of evil, to\ntouch not the unclean thing; it bids us love not the world, it tells\nus how impossible the double service of God and mammon is. Now though\nwe believe it all it can give us nothing but pain unless we live up to\nit. If there is a vision and we shut our eyes to it, if there is a law\nand we turn away from it, woe unto us! But if we receive the vision,\nif we loyally and earnestly keep the law, the world cannot fathom the\ndepth of our peace, nor rise to the height of our joy.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[690] Isa. ii. 3.\n\n[691] \"Modern Science and Modern Thought\" (pp. 289, 290), by S. Laing.\nChapman & Hall: 1890.\n\n[692] _Cf._ Prov. xxviii. 4, 9:--\n\n \"They that forsake the law praise the wicked:\n But such as keep the law contend with them.\n He that turneth away his ear from hearing the law\n Even his prayer is an abomination.\"\n\n\n\n\n XXX.\n\n _THE WORDS OF AGUR._\n\n The rendering of the first verse of this chapter is very\n uncertain. Without attempting to discuss the many conjectural\n emendations, we must briefly indicate the view which is here\n taken. A slight alteration in the pointing (\u05d0\u05b5\u05dc \u05dc\u05b8\u05d0\u05b4\u05d9\u05ea\u05b4\u05d9 instead\n of the Masoretic reading \u05dc\u05b0\u05d0\u05b4\u05d9\u05ea\u05b4\u05d9\u05d0\u05b5\u05dc) changes the proper name\n Ithiel into a significant verb; and another slight change (\u05d5\u05b8\u05d0\u05b5\u05db\u05b6\u05dc\n for \u05d5\u05b0\u05d0\u05bb\u05db\u05b8\u05dc) gives us another verb in the place of Ucal. To remove\n the difficulty of the word \"oracle,\" a difficulty which arises\n from the fact that the chapter which follows is not a prophetic\n utterance of the kind to which that word might be applied, it is\n necessary, with Gr\u00e4tz, to make a more serious change, and to read\n \u05d4\u05b7\u05de\u05bc\u05e9\u05b5\u05c1\u05dc for \u05d4\u05b7\u05de\u05b7\u05bc\u05e9\u05b8\u05bc\u05c2\u05d0. And to explain the word \u05d4\u05b7\u05e0\u05b6\u05bc\u05d1\u05b6\u05e8, which\n occurs in a similar connection in Numb. xxiv. 3, 15, and 2 Sam.\n xxiii. 1, we must suppose that some relative clause defining the\n nature of \"the man\" has been dropped. The great uncertainty of the\n text is witnessed by the LXX., who place this passage after xxiv.\n 23, and give a rendering which has very little resemblance to our\n present Hebrew text. It is highly probable, both from the subject\n matter and from the numerical arrangements, which are thoroughly\n Rabbinical, that this chapter and chap. xxxi. are of late origin,\n and represent the last phase of the proverbial literature of\n Israel in the days after the return from the Exile. If this be so,\n the obscurity and uncertainty are characteristic of an artificial\n period of literature, and of a decay in literary taste. Adopting,\n then, the alterations which have been mentioned, we obtain the\n following result:--\n\n \"The words of Agur the son of Jakeh, the proverb-writer:\n\n The utterance of the man [who has questioned and thought]: I have\n wearied after God, I have wearied after God, and am faint, for I\n am too stupid for a man, and am without reason, and I have not\n learned wisdom, nor have I knowledge of the All Holy,\" etc.\n\n\nThis chapter is full of curious interest. It is a collection of\nsayings which are apparently connected only by the circumstance that\nthey were attributed to one person, Agur, the son of Jakeh. Whoever\nAgur was, he had a certain marked individuality; he combined\nmeditation on lofty questions of theology with a sound theory of\npractical life. He was able to give valuable admonitions about\nconduct. But his characteristic delight was to group together in\nquatrains visible illustrations of selected qualities or ideas.\n\nIt may be well for us to glance at these picturesque groups, and then\nto return to the more philosophical and religious sentiments with\nwhich the chapter opens.\n\n\"Slander not a servant to his master,\" says Agur, \"lest the servant\ncurse thee, and thou be held guilty.\" Even underlings have their\nrights; the Lord makes their cause His own, and a curse from them\nfalls with as much weight on a slanderer as the words of more\ninfluential people. It is one of the surest tests of a man's character\nto see how he treats servants; if he is uniformly courteous,\nconsiderate, just, and generous in his treatment of them, we may\nsafely infer that he is a noble character; if he is haughty,\ndomineering, revengeful, and malicious to them, we need not attach\nmuch importance to his pleasing manners and plausible services to\nthose whom he considers his equals.\n\nNow follow two of these singular quatrains. There are four kinds of\nmen pointed out, and held up, not to our abhorrence, that is\nunnecessary, but simply to our observation: the unfilial, the\nself-righteous, the haughty, and the rapacious who devour the poor and\nthe needy. It is not necessary to say anything about these persons.\nTheir doom is stamped on their brows; to name them is to condemn them;\nto describe them is to write out their sentence.\n\nAgain, there are four things which like the bloodsucking horse-leech\nare always insatiable. The vampire has her daughters in the earth; it\nis, as Professor Cheyne says, \"a quasi-mythical expression.\" These\ndaughters are two, nay, they are three, nay, they are four; and they\nare, as it were, the representatives of all creation:[693] Sheol, the\ninvisible world, which draws into itself the countless generations of\nthe dead; the generative principle, which never wearies of producing\nnew generations of the living; the earth, which is for ever absorbing\nthe cadent waters of heaven; and the fire, which will consume all the\nfuel that is given to it.\n\nNow follows a further comment upon unfilial conduct: the eye is regarded\nas the instrument by which a son shows his feelings to his parents; he\nhas not perhaps gone the length of uttering a curse against them, still\nless of raising his hand to ill-treat them, but his eye flashes derision\nupon his father, and by its haughty obstinacy declares that it will not\nobey his mother. The offending member shall be picked out by the\nclamorous ravens, and eaten by the young of the soaring eagle.\n\nNext we have four more quatrains. First, there are the four wonders\nwhich baffle Agur's understanding; wonders which are comprehensible\nonly to God, as the Vedic hymn says,--\n\n \"The path of ships across the sea,\n The soaring eagle's flight he knows.\"\n\nThe wonder seems to be in the reality and power of impalpable things.\nHow little of all that passes in the universe is open to observation,\nor leaves a track behind. The eagle mounts through the air as if he\nmarched on a solid beaten road; the serpent, without limbs, glides\nover the smooth rock where feet would slip, and leaves no trace\nbehind; the ship ploughs the deep, and over trackless waters follows\nher track which is invisible; a man and a maid meet, swift glances\npass, hearts blend, and that is done which can never be undone; or on\nthe evil side, the bad woman follows her illicit and hidden courses,\nwhile to all appearance she is a faithful wife and mother.\n\nSecondly, there are four human conditions which are intolerable to\nsociety, viz., an essentially servile spirit put into the place of\nauthority; a fool who, instead of being corrected, is confirmed in his\nfolly by prosperity; a marriage where the wife is hated; and a slave\ngirl in the position which Hagar occupied with relation to Sarah her\nmistress.\n\nThirdly, there are four kinds of animals which illustrate that size is\nnot necessarily greatness, and that it is possible to be insignificant\nand yet wise. The tiny ants are a model of intelligent mutual\ncooperation and prudent thrift. The little jerboas seem helpless enough,\nbut they are sensible in the choice of their homes, for they dwell\nsecurely in rocky fastnesses. The locusts seem as weak and inoffensive\nas insects can be, yet they form a mighty army, ordered in battle array;\n\"they run like mighty men; they climb the wall like men of war; and they\nmarch every one in his ways, and they break not their ranks.\"[694] The\nlizard seems but a plebeian creature; you can seize it with your hands;\nit is defenceless and devoid of natural capabilities; and yet with its\nswift crawlings and tireless dartings it will find its way into kings'\npalaces, where greater and stronger creatures cannot enter.\n\nLastly, there are four things which impress one with their stateliness\nof motion; the lion, the creature that is girt in the loins, whether a\nwar-horse or a greyhound, the he-goat, and--surely with a little touch\nof satire--the king when his army is with him.\n\nThen the collection of Agur's sayings ends with a wise and picturesque\nword of counsel to exercise a strong restraint over our rising\npassions.\n\nBut now we may turn back to the passage with which the chapter opens.\nHere is the cry of one who has sought to find out God. It is an old and\na mournful cry. Many have emitted it from the beginning; many utter it\nnow. But few have spoken with more pathetic humility, few have made us\nfeel with so much force the solemnity and the difficulty of the question\nas this unknown Agur. We see a brow wrinkled with thought, eyes dimmed\nwith long and close observation; it is not the boor or the sot that\nmakes this humiliating confession; it is the earnest thinker, the eager\nenquirer. He has meditated on the wonderful facts of the physical world;\nhe has watched the great trees sway under the touch of the invisible\nwind, and the waves rise up in their might, lashing the shores, but\nvainly essaying to pass their appointed boundaries; he has considered\nthe vast expanse of the earth, and enquired, on what foundations does it\nrest, and where are its limits? He cannot question the \"eternal power\nand divinity\" which can alone account for this ordered universe. He has\nnot, like many thinkers ancient and modern, \"dropped a plummet down the\nbroad deep universe, and cried, No God.\" He knows that there is a God;\nthere must be an Intelligence able to conceive, coupled with a power\nable to realize, this mighty mechanism. But who is it? What is His name\nor His Son's name? Here are the footsteps of the Creator, but where is\nthe Creator Himself? Here are the signs of His working on every hand.\nThere is an invisible power that ascends and descends on the earth by\nstaircases unseen. Who is He? These careering winds, before which we are\npowerless, obey some control; sometimes they are \"upgathered like\nsleeping flowers;\" who is it that holds them then? These great waters\nsway to and fro, or they pour in ceaseless currents from their\nfountains, or they gather in the quiet hollows of the hills; but who is\nit that appoints the ocean, and the river, and the lake? Who feeds them\nall, and restrains them all? Whose is the garment which holds them as a\nwoman carries a pitcher lashed to her back in the fold of her dress? The\nearth is no phantom, no mirage, it is solid and established; but who\ngave to matter its reality, and in the ceaseless flux of the atoms fixed\nthe abiding forms, and ordered the appropriate relations? Ah! what is\nHis name? Has He a son? Is man, for instance, His son? Or does the idea\nof the Eternal and Invisible God imply also an Eternal Son, a Being one\nwith Him, yet separable, the object of His love, the instrument of His\nworking, the beginning of His creation? Who is He? That He is holy seems\nan inevitable conclusion from the fact that we know what holiness is,\nand recognise its sovereignty. For how, in thinking of the mighty Being\nwho made all things, dare I give Him a lower attribute than that which I\ncan give to my fellow-men? How dare I withhold from Him that which I\nknow of the Highest and the Best? But though I know that He is holy, the\nAll Holy One I do not know. My weak and sinful nature has glimpses of\nHim, but no steady visions. I lose Him in the confused welter of things.\nI catch the gleam of His face in the hues of the rainbow and in the glow\nof the eternal hills; but I lose it when I strive to follow among the\nangry gatherings of the stormclouds, in the threatening crash of the\nthunder, the roar of the avalanche, and the rent ruins of the\nearthquake.\n\nAnd the man, considering all things, questioning, seeking, exclaims,\n\"I am weary and faint.\" The splendours of God haunt his imagination,\nthe sanctities of God fill his conscience with awe, the thoughts of\nGod lie as presuppositions behind all his thinking. But he has not\nunderstanding; baffled and foiled and helpless, he says that he is too\nbrutish to be a man. Surely a _man_ would know God; surely he must be\nbut one of the soulless creatures, dust of the dust, for he has not\nthe knowledge of the Holy One.\n\nTo this impetuous hail of questions an answer comes. For indeed in the\nfact that the questions are put already the answer lies. In the humble\ncry that he is too stupid to be a man is already the clearest proof\nthat he is raised incalculably above the brute.\n\nBut who is it that offers the answer in vv. 5-9? It would seem as if\nAgur himself has suggested the question--a question borrowed probably\nfrom some noble heathen thinker; and now he proceeds to meet the wild\nand despairing outcry with the results of his own reflection. He does\nnot attempt the answer on the lines of natural religion. His answer in\neffect is this: You cannot know God, you cannot by searching find Him\nunless He reveals Himself; His revelation must come as an articulate\nand intelligible word. As the Psalm says--for it seems to be a\nquotation from Psalm xviii. 30--\"Every word of God is tried: He is a\nshield unto them that trust in Him.\" Agur appeals to a written\nrevelation, a revelation which is complete and rounded, and to which\nno further addition may be made (ver. 6). It was probably the time\nwhen Ezra the scribe had gathered together the Law and the Psalms and\nthe Prophets, and had formed the first scriptural canon. Since then a\ngreat deal has been added to the canon, these words of Agur among the\nrest, but the assertion remains essentially true. Our knowledge of God\ndepends on His self-revelation, and the method of that revelation is\nto speak, through the lips of God-possessed men, words which are tried\nby experience and proved by the living faith of those who trust in\nGod. \"I am that I am\" has spoken to men, and to Him, the\nEternally-existent, have they ascribed the visible universe. \"The God\nof Israel\" has spoken to men, and they have learnt therefore to trace\nHis hand in history and in the development of human affairs. The Holy\nOne has in prophets and poets spoken to men, and they have become\naware that all goodness comes from Him, and all evil is hateful to\nHim. And lastly, His Son has spoken to men, and has declared Him in a\nway that never could have been dreamed, has shown them the Father, has\nrevealed that new unutterable Name.\n\nThe answer to the great cry of the human heart, the wearied, fainting\nhuman heart, is given only in revelation, in the tried word of God, and\ncompletely only in the Word of God that was made flesh. The proof of\nthat revelation is furnished to all those who trust in the God so\nrevealed, for He becomes a shield to them; they abide under the shadow\nof His realized presence. It is not possible to add unto the words of\nGod; our speculations lead us farther, but they only lead us into error;\nand by them we incur His reproof, and our fictions become disastrously\nexposed. The answer to philosophy is in revelation, and they who do not\naccept the revealed answer are left asking eternally the same weary and\nhopeless question, \"What is his name, and what is his son's name?\"\n\nAnd now, with a quaint and practical homeliness which is very\nsuggestive, Agur notices two conditions, which he has evidently\nobserved to be necessary if we are to find the answer which revelation\ngives to the enquiry of the human heart after God. First of all we\nmust be rid of vanity and lies. How true this is! We may hold the\nBible in our hands, but while our hearts are void of seriousness and\nsincerity we can find nothing in it, certainly no word of God. A vain\nperson and an untruthful person can receive no genuine revelation;\nthey may believe, or think that they believe, the current religious\ndogmas, and they may be able to give a verbal answer to the question\nwhich we have been considering, but they cannot have the knowledge of\nthe Holy One. More than half the godlessness of men is due simply to\nwant of earnestness; they are triflers on the earth, they are painted\nbubbles, which burst if any solid thing touches them; they are\ndrifting vapours and exhalations, which pass away and leave not a\nwrack behind. But there are many men who are serious enough in their\nsearch for knowledge, and yet are vitiated through and through by a\nradical want of truthfulness. They are prepared for facts, but only\nfacts of a certain sort. They want to know God, but only on condition\nthat He shall not be supernatural. They want to study the truths of\nthe spiritual world, but only on condition that the spiritual shall be\nmaterial. O remove far from me vanities and lies!\n\nThen there is a second condition desirable for the due appreciation of\nreligious truth, a social and economical condition. Agur might have\nknown our modern world with its terrible extremes of wealth and\npoverty. He perceived how hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom\nof heaven; and, on the other hand, how probable it is that hungry men\nwill be seduced into stealing and betrayed into blasphemy. That there\nis much truth in this view we may easily satisfy ourselves by\nconsidering the wealthy classes in England, whose question, urged\nthrough all their pomp and ceremonial of heartless worship, is\npractically, \"Who is the Lord?\" and by then looking at the eight\nhundred thousand paupers of England, amongst whom religion is\npractically unknown except as a device for securing food.\n\nAnd when we have duly weighed this saying of Agur's, we may come to\nsee that among all the pressing religious and spiritual problems of\nour day, this also must be entertained and solved, How to secure a\nmore equable distribution of wealth, so that the extremes of wealth\nand poverty should disappear, and all should be fed with the food that\nis needful for them.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[693] _Cf._ the Sanscrit Hitopadesa, \"Fire is never satisfied with fuel,\nnor the ocean with rivers, nor death with all creatures, nor bright-eyed\nwomen with men;\" also the Arabic proverb, \"Three things are of three\nnever full, women's womb of man, wood of fire, and earth of rain.\"\n\n[694] Joel ii. 7.\n\n\n\n\n XXXI.\n\n _A GOOD WOMAN._\n\n \"O woman-hearts, that keep the days of old\n In living memory, can _you_ stand back\n When Christ calls? Shall the heavenly Master lack\n The serving love, which is your life's fine gold?\n\n \"Do you forget the hand which placed the crown\n Of happy freedom on the woman's head,\n And took her from the dying and the dead,\n Lifting the wounded soul long trodden down?\n\n \"Do you forget who bade the morning break,\n And snapped the fetters of the iron years?\n The Saviour calls for service: from your fears\n Rise girt with faith, and work for His dear sake!\n\n \"And He will touch the trembling lips with fire,--\n O let us hasten, lest we come too late!\n And all shall work; if some must 'stand and wait,'\n Be theirs that wrestling prayer that will not tire.\"\n R. O.\n\n\nThe last chapter of the book of Proverbs consists of two distinct\ncompositions, and the only connection between them is to be found in\ntheir date. The words of King Lemuel, \"a saying which his mother taught\nhim,\"[695] and the description of a good woman,[696] must both be\nreferred to a very late epoch of Hebrew literature. The former contains\nseveral Aramaic words[697] and expressions which connect it with the\nperiod of the exile; and the latter is an alphabetical acrostic, _i.e._,\nthe verses begin with the successive letters of the alphabet; and this\nartificial mode of composition, which appears also in some of the\nPsalms, is sufficient of itself to indicate the last period of the\nliterature, when the Rabbinical methods were coming into use.\n\nAbout the words of Lemuel, of whom it may be observed we know nothing at\nall, enough has been said in previous lectures. We need here only notice\nthat the mother's influence in the education of her son, even though\nthat son is to be a king, comes very suitably as the introduction to the\nbeautiful description of the good woman with which the chapter closes.\nIt is said that the mother of George III. brought him up with the\nconstantly-repeated admonition, \"George, be a king,\" and that to this\nearly training was due that exalted notion of the prerogative and that\nobstinate assertion of his will which occasioned the calamities of his\nreign. Kings have usually been more ready to imbibe such lessons than\nmoral teaching from their mothers; but whatever may be the actual\nresult, we all feel that a woman is never more nobly occupied than in\nwarning her son against the seductions of pleasure, and in giving to him\na high sense of duty. It is from a mother's lips we should all learn to\nespouse the cause of the helpless and the miserable, and to bear an open\nheart for the poor and needy.[698]\n\nBut now before coming to examine in detail the poem of the virtuous\nwoman, let us briefly recall what the book hitherto has taught us on\nthe subject of womanhood. It began with solemn and oft-repeated\nwarnings against the \"strange woman,\" and echoes of that mournful\ntheme have accompanied us throughout: the strange woman is a deep\nditch, a narrow pit; he that is abhorred of the Lord shall fall\ntherein.[699] And even where the woman's nature is not corrupted by\nimpurity we are several times reminded how she may destroy the peace\nof man's life by certain faults of temper. If she is contentious and\nfretful she can make the house utterly unbearable; it will be better\nto live in a corner of the housetop or in a desert land, exposed to\nthe continual downpour of the autumn rains, than to be assailed by her\ntongue.[700] The attempt to restrain her is like trying to grasp the\nwind, or to seize an object which is smeared with oil.[701] We are\nreminded too how incongruously sometimes great beauty of person is\ncombined with inward faults. \"As a jewel of gold in a swine's snout,\nso is a fair woman which is without discretion.\"[702]\n\nBut we must distinctly understand that these severe strictures on\nwoman corrupted and woman imperfect are only so many witnesses to her\nvalue and importance. The place she fills in life is so supreme that\nif she fails in her duty human life as a whole is a failure. In her\nhands lie the issues of life for mankind. \"The wisdom of woman builds\nher house, and the folly of woman plucks it down with her hands.\"[703]\nWhat the homes of a nation are, the nation is; and it is woman's high\nand beautiful function to make the homes, and within her power lies\nthe terrible capacity for marring them. She, much more than the king,\nis the fountain of honour.[704] The honour she gives and the honour\nshe commands will decide the whole tone of society. Pure, true, and\nstrong, she makes men worship purity, truth, and strength. Corrupt,\nfalse, and vain, she blights and blasts the ideal of man, lowers all\nhis aspirations, excites his evil passions to a frenzy of iniquity,\ndegrades his soul to a level below the brutes.\n\nThe condition of woman is the touchstone of a civilised society.\n\nAgain, there is a sense in which woman is an interpreter and revealer of\nGod to the human race. She has religious intuitions and spiritual\nsusceptibilities in which the other sex is usually deficient. Most\nreligious systems in the world's history have overlooked her, and have\nsuffered accordingly. The religion of Jesus Christ recognised her,\nclaimed for her her rightful place, and to this day does much of its\nbest work in the world through her gracious ministrations, through her\nunquestioning faith, through her unquenchable love. It is as a\nforeshadowing of this religious significance which Christ was to give to\nwomanhood that the Proverbs recognise the beautiful direct relation\nbetween God and the possession of a good wife. \"Whoso findeth a wife\nfindeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord.\"[705] Wealth, as\nit is ordinarily understood, is of the earth,--it can be derived from\nancestors by inheritance, or it can be earned by toil of hand and\nbrain,--but every wife worthy of the name is far above all wealth: she\ncannot be earned or inherited; she comes, as the mother of mankind came,\ndirect from the hand of the Lord.[706] The marriage tie is a thought of\nGod's heart. He Himself has arranged the exquisite blending of life with\nlife and spirit with spirit; He has fitted man to woman and woman to\nman, so that the perfect man is not the man alone, the perfect woman is\nnot the woman alone, but the man and woman one flesh, mystically united,\nthe completeness each of the other; not two, but a single whole.\n\nWe may now examine in detail this connected description of the\nvirtuous woman, whose value is not to be measured by material wealth,\nand who yet, from a merely material point of view, is a source of\nwealth to those who are fortunate enough to call her theirs.\n\nShe is a wife. The modern conception of a woman as an independent\nperson, standing alone, engaged in her own business or profession, and\ncomplete in her isolated life, is not to be looked for in the book of\nProverbs. It is the creation of accidental circumstances. However\nnecessary it may be in a country where the women are largely in excess\nof the men, it cannot be regarded as final or satisfactory. In the\nbeginning it was not so, neither will it be so in the end. If men and\nwomen are to abide in strength and to develop the many sides of their\nnature, they must be united. It is not good for man to be alone; nor\nis it good for woman to be alone. There are some passages in the New\nTestament which seem to invalidate this truth. The advocates of\ncelibacy appeal to the example of Christ and to the express words of\nSt. Paul. But the New Testament, as our Lord Himself expressly\ndeclares, does not abrogate the eternal law which was from the\nbeginning. And if He Himself abstained from marriage, and if St. Paul\nseems to approve of such an abstention, we must seek for the\nexplanation in certain exceptional and temporary circumstances; for it\nis precisely to Christ Himself in the first instance, and to His great\nApostle in the second, that we owe our loftiest and grandest\nconceptions of marriage. There was no room for a personal marriage in\nthe life of Him who was to be the Bridegroom of His Church; and St.\nPaul distinctly implies that the pressing troubles and anxieties of\nhis own life, and the constant wearing labours which were required of\nthe Gentile Apostle, formed the reason why it was better for him, and\nfor such as he, to remain single.\n\nAt any rate the virtuous woman of the Proverbs is a wife: and the\nfirst thing to observe is the part she plays in relation to her\nhusband. She is his stay and confidence: \"The heart of her husband\ntrusteth in her.\" She is his natural confidante and counsellor; her\nadvice is more valuable than that of much cleverer people, because it\nis so absolutely disinterested; the hearts are in such vital contact\nthat the merely intellectual communications have a quality all their\nown. One may often observe in an ideal marriage, though the husband\nseems to be the stronger and the more self-reliant, the wife is really\nthe pillar of strength; if death removes her, he is forlorn and bereft\nand helpless; the gradual work of the years has led him to depend on\nher more and more, to draw from her his best inspirations, and to turn\ninstinctively to her for advice and direction.\n\n\"She doeth him good, and not evil, all the days of her life.\"[707] It is\nnot only when she comes as a young bride into his house, bright with\nyouth, encircled with the glamour of early love,--then, it is true, the\nthought of her nerves his endeavours and quickens his eager steps as he\nturns homeward in the evening,--it is not only while her fresh charms\nlast, and her womanly beauty acts as a spell on him, while the desire to\nretain her love disciplines and strengthens whatever is good in his\ncharacter; but right through to the end of her life, when she has grown\nold, when the golden hair is grey, and the blooming cheeks are wrinkled,\nand the upright form is bent,--when other people see nothing beautiful\nabout her except the beauty of old age and decay, he sees in her the\nsweet bride of earlier years, to him the eyes appear unchanged and the\nvoice thrills him with happy memories; she ministers to him still and\ndoes him good; not now with the swift alacrity of foot and the deft\nmovement of the hand, but with the dear, loyal heart, with the love\nwhich the years have mellowed and the trust which the changing\ncircumstances of life have tested and confirmed.\n\nIt is this strong, sweet core of life in the home which gives the man\ndignity and honour in public. She is a crown to her husband.[708] His\ninfluence in the life of his town or of his country is not always\ndirectly traced to its true source. But it is that woman's noble sway\nover him, it is the constant spur and chastening of her love, which\ngives him the weighty voice and the grave authority in the counsels of\nthe nation. \"Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among\nthe elders of the land.\"[709] He can make but a poor return to her for\nall her quiet unobtrusive and self-sacrificing help year after year\nand on to the end, but he can at least repay her with growing\nreverence and loyalty; he can tell her, as it were with the\nimpassioned lips of a lover, what he owes to her; when her children\nrise up and call her blessed, he can praise her, saying, \"Many\ndaughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.\"[710]\nIndeed it will be his growing conviction that of all the daughters of\nwoman there is none equal to his wife. Her charms have grown upon him,\nher character has ripened before his eyes, her love has become at once\nstronger and more precious every year. It is no flattery, no idle\ncompliment of courting-days, no soft word to win the coy heart of the\nmaiden, but it is his own deep and sincere feeling; it is said to her\nwho is his and has been his for years, and in whose assured possession\nhe finds his greatest peace: \"I do not question that other women are\ngood and true, but I am sure that you are better than all.\" And so she\nis. Every true wife is the best wife.\n\nThe next point in the virtuous woman to which our attention is drawn is\nher unflagging industry. Her husband \"shall have no lack of gain.\"[711]\nIn addition to all those treasures of mutual love and spiritual\nconverse, all those invaluable services of counsel and guidance, of\ncriticism and encouragement, she is a positive source of wealth to him.\nShe is the house-manager. If he earns the bread in the first instance,\nit is in her hands that it seems to be miraculously multiplied. If he\nbrings home the money which is enough for their wants, it is she who\nturns the silver into gold and makes the modest means appear great\nwealth. The fact is her hands are always busy. The spindle, the distaff,\nthe loom, are within her reach and are constantly plied. While she\nunravels the knotted cares of her husband in the evening with her bright\nand cheery talk, while she encourages him in all his plans and heartens\nhim for all his duties, her busy fingers are making clothes for the\nchildren, repairing, adapting, improving, or else are skilfully\nconstructing ornaments and decorations for the household, turning the\npoor room into a palace, making the walls beam with beauty and the\nhearts of all within laugh for joy.\n\nThere is something quite magical and impressive in woman's economy: \"She\nis like the merchant ships; she bringeth her food from afar.\"[712] No\none knows how it is done. The table is well spread, the food is daintily\nserved, on infinitesimal means. She finds out by the quick intuitions of\nlove how to get the things which the loved ones like, and by many a\nlittle sacrifice unperceived she produces effects which startle them\nall. She has a secret of doing and getting which no one knows but she.\nEarly passers-by have seen a light in the house long before the day\ndawns; she has been up preparing the breakfast for the household, and\nmapping out the work for all, so that no hours may be wasted and no one\nin the family may be idle.[713] Her boundless economies produce\nastonishing results. One morning she has to announce to the husband and\nthe children that she has managed to put together a little sum which\nwill purchase the freehold of their house and garden.[714] Her husband\nexclaims, Why, how has it been done? Where has the money come from out\nof our little income? She smiles significantly and will not tell; but\nthe tears moisten his eyes as he looks into her face and reads the story\nof self-denials, and managings, and toils, which have issued in this\nsurprise. And the children look up with a sense of awe and wonder. They\nfeel that there is something of the supernatural about mother; and\nperhaps they are right.\n\nShe has all the delicacy and even weakness of a woman, but the life of\nconstant activity and cheerful toil preserves her health and increases\nher strength. Idle women, who lounge their days away in constant\nmurmurings over their ailments, speak contemptuously about her,--\"She\nhas the strength of a horse,\" they say, \"and can bear anything.\" They\ndo not know, they do not wish to know, that she is the author of her\nown strength. It is her own indomitable will, her own loving heart,\nwhich girds her loins with strength and makes strong her arms.[715]\nThere are others who carp at her on different grounds; they do not\nunderstand how one with her husband's income can keep so comfortable a\nhousehold or dress her children as she does. Those cushions of\ntapestry, that clothing of fine linen and purple, are an offence to\nher critics. \"How she does it I am sure I don't know,\" says one,\nimplying that there is something quite uncanny and disreputable about\nit. \"She works like a slave,\" says another, with the tone of scorn\nthat one would employ for a slave. But that is the truth: \"She\nperceiveth that her merchandise is profitable: her lamp goeth not out\nby night.\"[716] She is indeed indefatigable. She actually makes\ngarments which she can sell, girdles for the merchants,[717] in\naddition to looking well to the ways of her household. Certainly she\ndoes not eat the bread of idleness.[718]\n\nShe can, however, very easily bear the contemptuous criticisms of\nothers. The practical results of her life are sufficiently satisfying\nto make her a little independent. She has secured herself and her\nhousehold against the contingencies which harass other housewives. The\napproach of winter has no alarms for her: all the children and\nservants are warmly and sufficiently clad.[719] The uncertain future\nhas no terrors for her: she has made ample provision for it, and can\nregard the unknown chances with a smile of confidence.[720] And\nindeed, whatever detractors may say behind her back, it is not easy\nfor any one to say anything severe in her presence. For the same\nloving, earnest, diligent ways which have made her household\ncomfortable and secure have clothed her with garments better than\nscarlet and linen. \"Strength and dignity are her clothing,\"--robes so\ngracious and beautiful that criticism is silenced in her presence,\nwhile the hearts of all good and honest people are drawn out to her.\n\nBut here is another characteristic of the virtuous woman. Economy and\ngenerosity go hand in hand. Frugal livers and hard workers are always\nthe largest givers. This woman, whose toil late at night and early in\nthe morning has enriched and blessed her own, is ready to help those\nwho are less fortunate. \"She spreadeth out her hand to the poor; yea,\nshe reacheth forth her hands to the needy.\"[721] Most women are\nnaturally pitiful and shrink from the sight of suffering; but while\nidle and self-indulgent women try to avoid the painful sight, and turn\ntheir flow of pity into the channels of vapid sentimentality, the good\nwoman trains her sense of pity by coming into contact with those who\ndeserve it, and only seeks to avoid the sight of suffering by trying\neverywhere and always to relieve it.\n\nAmong all the noble and Christlike offices of woman this is the one\nwhich most strikingly connects her with the human life of our Lord. It\nis her function to excite and to cherish the quality of compassion in\nthe human heart, and by her trained skill and intuitive tact to make\nthe ministrations of the community to the poor truly charitable\ninstead of dangerously demoralizing. Man is apt to relieve the poor by\nthe laws of political economy, without emotion and by measure: he\nmakes a Poor Law which produces the evil it pretends to relieve; he\ndegrades the lovely word Charity into a badge of shame and a wanton\ninsult to humanity. It is woman that \"spreads out her palm and\nreacheth forth her hand\" to the poor, bringing her heart into the\nwork, giving, not doles of money, but the helpfulness of a sister's\nlove, the tenderness of a mother's solicitude, the awakening touch of\na daughter's care. And the hand which is thus held out to the poor is\nprecisely the hand which has been laid on the distaff and the spindle;\nnot the lazy hand or the useless hand, but the hand which is supple\nwith toil, dexterous with acquired skill.\n\nThere are two reflections which must have occurred to us in following\nthis description of the good woman. Her portrait has risen before our\neyes, and we ask, Is she beautiful? We have watched her activities,\ntheir mode and their result, and we wonder whether she is religious.\n\"Favour is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman that feareth the\nLord she shall be praised.\"[722] That this woman has a beauty of her own\nseems clear, and that she fears the Lord is a fair inference to make. It\nis idle to declaim against the charms of personal beauty; we may call it\ndeceitful and vain, but it will not cease to be attractive. Men will not\nbe reasoned or ridiculed out of that instinctive homage which they pay\nto a lovely face; the witchery of bright eyes and arch looks, the\nwinsomeness of sweet contours and delicate hues, will last, we may\nsurmise, as long as the sun and moon endure; and why should we dishonour\nGod by supposing that He did not make the beauty which attracts and the\nattraction which the beauty excites? But it is not impossible to open\nmen's eyes to the beauty of a less transient and more satisfying kind\nwhich lies in the character and conduct of women. If mothers accustom\ntheir sons to see those sterling attractions which permanently secure\nthe affection and the devotion of a husband, the young men will not be\ncontent with superficial beauties and vanishing charms in the women whom\nthey choose.\n\nAnd is not the beauty of woman--such beauty as we have been\ncontemplating--the result of fearing the Lord? Is it possible, apart\nfrom a living faith in a living God, to maintain that lovely\nwifeliness, that self-sacrificing, diligent love, that overflow of\npity to the poor and needy, which constitute grace and loveliness of\ncharacter? Has any one succeeded in even depicting an imaginary woman\ndevoid of religion and yet complete and beautiful? We have already\nnoticed how suited the woman's nature is to receive religious\nimpressions and to communicate religious influences; we may now\nnotice, in concluding, that this very characteristic renders a woman\nwithout God even more imperfect and unsatisfying than a man without\nGod. She is naturally inclined to cling to a person rather than to an\nidea, to follow a person rather than a theory. The only Person to whom\nshe can cling with absolutely good and hallowing results is God; the\nonly Person whom she can follow and minister to without detriment to\nher womanhood and with gain to her spirit is Christ. A godless woman\nmakes a sore shipwreck of life, whether she becomes sensual and\ndepraved, or ambitious and domineering, or bitter and cynical, or vain\nand conventional. In her ruin there is always a power as of a fallen\nangel, and she can drag others with her in her fall.\n\nIf a man is wise then in choosing for himself a wife, the first thing he\nwill demand is that she shall be one that fears the Lord, one who shall\nbe able to lead him and help him in that which is his truest life, and\nto maintain for him a saving intercourse with the world of spiritual\nrealities. He may be assured that in her love to God he has the best\nguarantee of her love to him, and that if she does not fear and love God\nthe main sanction for their wedded happiness will be wanting.\n\nFinally, where the woman who has been described is actually found in\nreal life it is for us to recognise her and to reward her. Let society\ntake note of her: \"Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works\npraise her in the gates.\" The great Greek historian said that woman's\nhighest praise consisted in not being mentioned at all. That is not the\nteaching of Revelation. Woman's best work is often done in silence and\nwithout observation, but her highest praise is when the seeds sown in\nsilence have grown into flowers of loveliness and fruit that is sweet to\nthe taste, and the whole community is forced to yield her the honour\nwhich is her due, exalting, with heartfelt admiration and with deep\ngratitude to God, the Wife, the Mother, the Ministrant to the Poor.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[695] Prov. xxxi. 1-9.\n\n[696] Prov. xxxi. 10-31.\n\n[697] _E.g._, \u05d1\u05b7\u05bc\u05e8 ver. 2 and \u05de\u05b0\u05dc\u05b8\u05db\u05b4\u05d9\u05df ver. 3: _cf._ the strange\nexpressions \u05db\u05b8\u05bc\u05dc\u05be\u05d1\u05b0\u05bc\u05e0\u05b5\u05d9\u05be\u05e2\u05b9\u05e0\u05b4\u05d9 and \u05d7\u05b2\u05dc\u05d5\u05b9\u05e3 \u05db\u05b8\u05bc\u05dc\u05be\u05d1\u05b0\u05bc\u05e0\u05b5\u05d9 in vv. 5, 8.\n\n[698] Prov. xxxi. 8, 9.\n\n[699] Prov. xxii. 14, xxiii. 27.\n\n[700] Prov. xix. 13, xxi. 9, xxv. 24, xxi. 19, xxvii. 15.\n\n[701] Prov. xxvii. 16.\n\n[702] Prov. xi. 22.\n\n[703] Prov. xiv. 1.\n\n[704] Prov. xi. 16.\n\n[705] Prov. xviii. 22.\n\n[706] Prov. xix. 14. In the LXX. this clause is beautifully rendered\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03c5\u03c1\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u1f01\u03c1\u03bc\u03cc\u03b6\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u1f74 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03af. By the Lord's ordinance woman and\nman are dovetailed together in a complete harmony. The thought is well\nexpanded in Ecclesiasticus (xxvi. 1-3): \"Blessed is the man that has a\nvirtuous wife, for thereby his life is doubled. A woman made for a man\nrejoices her husband, and he shall fulfil the years of his life in\npeace. A virtuous wife is a good portion, in the portion of them that\nfear the Lord shall she be given.\"\n\n[707] Prov. xxxi. 12.\n\n[708] Prov. xii. 4.\n\n[709] Prov. xxxi. 23.\n\n[710] Prov. xxxi. 29.\n\n[711] Prov. xxxi. 11.\n\n[712] Prov. xxxi. 14.\n\n[713] Prov. xxxi. 15.\n\n[714] Prov. xxxi. 16.\n\n[715] Prov. xxxi. 17.\n\n[716] Prov. xxxi. 18.\n\n[717] Prov. xxxi. 24.\n\n[718] Prov. xxxi. 27.\n\n[719] Prov. xxxi. 21.\n\n[720] Prov. xxxi. 25.\n\n[721] Prov. xxxi. 20.\n\n[722] Prov. xxxi. 30.\n\n\n\n\n INDEX OF TEXTS IN PROVERBS QUOTED\n OR EXPOUNDED.\n\n\n VERSES PAGES\n\n CHAPTER I.\n\n i.-ix. 7\n 7 9, 15, etc.\n 11-14 26, 27\n 13 32\n 17 34\n 19 30, 33\n 24-31 35, 36\n 25 34\n 31 34, 37\n 32 25, 34\n\n\n CHAPTER II.\n\n 10 25\n 12 24\n 16 24\n 19 34\n 21 37\n 22 33, 37\n\n\n CHAPTER III.\n\n 1-10 37\n 6 46\n 8 39\n 12 50\n 13-15 48\n 16 50\n 18 49\n 27 43\n 28 43\n 29 41\n 31 50\n 33 41\n 35 51\n\n\n CHAPTER IV.\n\n 1-7 52\n 8, 9 55\n 12 64\n 14 56\n 16, 17 26, 63\n 18 63\n 19 62\n 20-23 57\n 24 59\n 25-27 61\n\n\n CHAPTER V.\n\n 3-20 27\n 8 66\n 9 72\n 10 72\n 11 72\n 12-14 28, 72\n 15-19 69\n 21 62, 72\n 22 29\n 23 73\n\n\n CHAPTER VI.\n\n 1-5 80\n 6-8 83\n 12-15 84\n 16-19 88\n 20-23 91\n 24-35 27\n 25 68\n 26 72, 75\n 27, 28 71\n 32 29\n 33 72\n 34 72\n 35 72\n\n\n CHAPTER VII.\n\n 1-5 93\n 4 94\n 5-27 27, 95, etc.\n 8 95\n 9 94\n 14 124\n 15 68\n 16, 17 68\n 22 99\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII.\n\n 1-6 107\n 7-9 108\n 10-16 109\n 15-16 4\n 17 110\n 18 109\n 20 108\n 22 110\n 22-31 112, etc.\n 26 110\n 29 111\n 30-36 120\n\n\n CHAPTER IX.\n\n 1-3 123-4\n 4 122\n 5 124\n 6 125\n 7 125\n 8 348\n 9 127\n 10 9, 127\n 12 37, 131\n 17 68\n\n\n CHAPTER X.\n\n 1 306\n 2 135, 141\n 4 139\n 12 209\n 13 342\n 14 164\n 15 138, 290\n 17 181\n 18 339\n 19 171\n 22 142\n 23 111, 156, 338\n 28 150\n 29 155\n 30 150\n\n\n CHAPTER XI.\n\n 1 215\n 2 183\n 3 151\n 4 142\n 5 150\n 6 149, 150\n 7 151\n 8 152\n 9 169, 176\n 10 154\n 11 154\n 12 177\n 13 169\n 14 256\n 15 80, 332\n 16 399\n 17 297\n 18 150\n 19 151\n 20 155\n 21 151\n 22 398\n 24 146, 298\n 25 146\n 26 294\n 27 152\n 28 140\n 30 152\n 31 154\n\n\n CHAPTER XII.\n\n 1 163, 181\n 2 155\n 4 4, 402\n 5 177, 198\n 6 163, 169, 176\n 7 150, 151\n 8 42\n 9 139\n 11 152, 267, 275\n 13 152, 163, 164\n 14 163\n 15 183, 256\n 16 163, 166\n 17 91, 163, 167\n 18 163, 164, 167, 172\n 19 89, 163, 168\n 21 152\n 22 163, 168\n 23 163, 339\n 24 272\n 25 163, 173\n 26 153, 154\n 27 265, 273\n\n\n CHAPTER XIII.\n\n 1 125, 179, 181\n 2 164\n 3 150, 171\n 4 271\n 5 108\n 6 152\n 8 138\n 9 151\n 10 179, 183, 184\n 11 141\n 12 193, 194\n 13 179, 181, 184, 259\n 16 171\n 17 182\n 18 140, 179\n 19 192\n 22 141, 153\n 24 309\n 25 152\n\n\n CHAPTER XIV.\n\n 1 398\n 3 165, 176, 186\n 4 269\n 5 91, 176\n 6 126\n 7 171, 339\n 9 156\n 10 191, _et seq._\n 11 150\n 12 65, 151\n 13 191, 195\n 14 152\n 15 177\n 16 186\n 17 205\n 19 153\n 20 138, 139\n 21 294\n 22 152\n 23 171\n 24 141, 340\n 25 91, 176\n 26 152\n 27 15\n 28 332\n 29 205\n 30 210\n 31 143, 291\n 32 153\n 33 171, 339\n 34 4, 154\n 35 328\n\n\n CHAPTER XV.\n\n 1 172, 203\n 2 171\n 3 197\n 4 172, 203, 210\n 6 141, 142, 216\n 7 175\n 8 156, 181\n 9 155\n 11 198\n 12 126\n 13 195\n 15 195, 357\n 16, 17 143\n 18 203\n 19 264\n 20 181, 306\n 22 256, 332\n 23 165, 173\n 25 187, 291\n 26 155, 172\n 27 145\n 28 151, 169, 176\n 29 156\n 30 196\n 31 184\n 32 181\n 33, etc. 4, 184, 215\n\n\n CHAPTER XVI.\n\n 1 178\n 1-7 4, 216\n 2 198\n 4 201\n 5 151, 187\n 6 226, 362\n 7 324\n 8 142\n 9 216\n 11 215\n 12 327\n 13 153, 327\n 14 328\n 15 328\n 16 142\n 17 152\n 18 180\n 19 180\n 20 4, 179, 183, 188, 216\n 21 175\n 22 340\n 23 175\n 24 173\n 25 151\n 26 265\n 27 154\n 28 169\n 29 27\n 30 85\n 32 209\n 33 4, 217\n\n\n CHAPTER XVII.\n\n 1 143\n 2 184\n 3 198\n 4 177\n 5 143, 291, 314, 316\n 6 53, 143\n 7 332\n 8 138\n 9 169\n 10 182\n 11 259\n 12 204, 343\n 14 205, 208\n 15 155\n 16 339\n 17 227\n 18 80\n 19 185\n 20 165\n 21 306, 339\n 22 194, 195\n 24 61\n 25 306\n 26 153, 155\n 27 177, 205\n 28 177\n\n\n CHAPTER XVIII.\n\n 1 205, 239, etc.\n 2 171\n 3 154\n 4 165\n 5 155\n 6 165\n 7 165\n 8 169\n 9 167, 266\n 11 138\n 12 180, 189\n 13 170\n 14 194\n 15 127\n 16 138\n 18 217\n 19 234\n 20 164\n 21 164\n 22 4, 399\n 23 139\n 24 229, 233\n\n\n CHAPTER XIX.\n\n 1 142, 165\n 2 256\n 4 138, 139\n 5 91, 167\n 6 138\n 7 3, 139, 166\n 8 258\n 9 91\n 10 342\n 11 205\n 12 328\n 13 292, 306, 398\n 14 4\n 15 265\n 16 152, 258\n 17 146, 291\n 18 309\n 19 206\n 20 256, 261\n 21 216, 257\n 22 165, 198\n 23 258, 362\n 24 263\n 25 126\n 26 306\n 27 258\n 28 167\n 29 258, 342\n\n\n CHAPTER XX.\n\n 1 279\n 2 329\n 3 205\n 4 262\n 5 256\n 7 153\n 8 327\n 9 198\n 10 215\n 11 153\n 12 197\n 13 204\n 14 86\n 15 142, 176\n 16 80\n 17 168\n 18 256, 332\n 19 169\n 21 145\n 22 210\n 23 215\n 24 198\n 26 327\n 27 198\n 28 328\n 30 310\n\n\n CHAPTER XXI.\n\n 1 4, 328\n 2 151, 198\n 3 156\n 4 188\n 5 272\n 6 141\n 7 150\n 8 151\n 9 398\n 10 151, 179\n 12 155\n 13 299\n 14 138\n 15 151, 152\n 17 276\n 18 152\n 19 398\n 20 140, 272, 339\n 21 152\n 23 165\n 24 180\n 25 266\n 26 145\n 27 156\n 28 165, 167\n 29 187\n 30 259\n 31 259\n\n\n CHAPTER XXII.\n\n 1 143\n 2 143, 288, 292\n 3 352\n 4 140, 188\n 6 303\n 7 139\n 8 151\n 9 146, 288, 300\n 10 126\n 11 153, 165, 327\n 12 155\n 13 263\n 14 283, 398\n 15 304, 340\n 16 141, 288, 297\n 17, etc. 4\n 18 165\n 22 4, 288\n 23 288\n 24 204\n 26, 27 80\n 29 272\n\n\n CHAPTER XXIII.\n\n 1-3 333\n 4 145\n 5 140\n 9 125, 170, 348\n 10 291\n 11 291\n 13-14 303-310\n 15 306\n 16 166, 306\n 17 151, 308\n 17-21 313\n 18 151\n 21 140\n 24 306\n 26-28 123\n 27 398\n 29-35 4, 76, 281\n\n\n CHAPTER XXIV.\n\n 1 151\n 5 256\n 6 256\n 7 177\n 9 126, 341\n 11, 12 5, 155, 197, 299\n 15 26, 151\n 16 151\n 17 314\n 18 314\n 19 151\n 20 151\n 21 5, 329\n 22 329\n 23 330\n 23-34 3, 5\n 24 154\n 25 154\n 26 176\n 27 352\n 28 314\n 29 314\n 30-34 82, 270\n 34 263\n\n\n CHAPTER XXV.\n\n xxv.-xxix. 5\n 2 169\n 6, 7 5\n 8 208\n 9 208\n 11 174\n 12 164, 175\n 14 180\n 17 244\n 18 167\n 20 174\n 21, 22 6, 314\n 23 169\n 24 398\n 26 153\n 28 206\n\n\n CHAPTER XXVI.\n\n 1 340\n 2 168\n 3-12 341-349\n 10 346\n 12 180\n 13 263\n 14 263\n 15 263\n 16 263\n 18 170\n 19 170\n 20 169\n 21 166, 204\n 22 169\n 23-28 168\n 24 151\n 26 151\n\n\n CHAPTER XXVII.\n\n 1 350\n 2 180\n 3 341\n 4 356\n 5 182\n 6 232\n 8 5, 243\n 9 232\n 10 233, 244\n 11 306\n 12 352\n 13 80\n 14 229, 237\n 15 398\n 16 398\n 17 231\n 18 350, 360\n 19 230\n 20 350, 354\n 21 182\n 22 340\n 23-27 5, 140, 270\n\n\n CHAPTER XXVIII.\n\n xxviiii. generally 5\n 1 155\n 2 332\n 3 296\n 4 154, 385\n 6 142\n 8 141, 297\n 9 156, 385\n 11 143\n 12 154, 332\n 13 362\n 14 362\n 15 332\n 16 332\n 18 152\n 19 267, 270\n 20 145\n 22 145\n 23 168, 175, 182\n 26 38, 183, 348\n 27 146, 298\n 28 154\n\n\n CHAPTER XXIX.\n\n 1 88\n 2 5, 154, 332\n 3 306\n 4 332\n 5 168\n 6 152\n 7 300\n 8 204\n 9 341\n 11 166, 205, 345\n 12 333\n 14 328\n 15 310\n 16 151\n 17 310\n 18 375\n 20 170\n 22 204\n 23 180\n 25 335\n 26 335\n 27 148\n\n\n CHAPTER XXX.\n\n xxx. generally 6, 386\n 1-4 390, 392\n 5-9 393\n 8 146\n 9 146\n 13 89\n 22 332, 339\n 25, 27 83\n 31 329\n 32, 33 167\n\n\n CHAPTER XXXI.\n\n xxxi. generally 6, 397\n 1 397\n 2-8 334\n 3 397\n 4 278\n 5 278\n 6 278\n 7 278\n 8 176\n 9 176\n 10-31 400, 410\n 27 273\n 30 302\n\n\n\n\n GENERAL INDEX.\n\n\n Agassiz, 144.\n\n Agriculture, 140, 269.\n\n Agur, 386.\n\n Anger, 205.\n\n Ant, the, 83.\n\n Atheism, unknown to Israel, 11, 18.\n\n Atonement, meaning of, 362, 371.\n\n\n Bacon, 16, 230.\n\n Bible, its character, 382.\n\n Buddha, his teaching quoted, 71.\n\n Burns, quoted, 293.\n\n\n Carlyle, 305.\n\n _Catholic_, the Catholic Church, 246.\n\n _Chastening_, 51.\n\n _Christ_, 93, 103, 107, 117, 120, 133, 148, 212, 227, 247, 258, 273,\n 318, 326, 330, 335, 348, 360, 383.\n\n ---- His use of the Proverbs, 124, 126, 127, 128, 130, 159, 314.\n\n Church, the, 247.\n\n Coleridge, 16.\n\n Commercial life, 41, 86, 218, 226.\n\n Competition, 31.\n\n Confession, 364.\n\n Conscience, 225, 252, 343.\n\n Contentment, 356.\n\n Conversion, 104, 212, 287, 320.\n\n \"Corners,\" 295.\n\n Covetousness, 30.\n\n Creation, the poem of, 112.\n\n Criticism, 181.\n\n\n Dandy, the, 95.\n\n Darwin, 16.\n\n Death, not terrible, 41.\n\n Diligence, 139, 262 _et seq._\n\n Distribution, economic, 136.\n\n Donatello, 183.\n\n Drink, 275 _et seq._\n\n Drunkard, the, 76, 277.\n\n\n Ecclesiastes, quoted, 10.\n\n Ecclesiasticus, 9, 12, 22, 81, 139, 144, 169, 184, 218, 250, 306, 400.\n\n Education, 52 _et seq._, 303 _et seq._\n\n Equality, 294.\n\n Evolution, 113.\n\n\n Faith, the life of, 356.\n\n Fanaticism, 287.\n\n Fitness, in speech, 170, 174.\n\n Flattery, 168.\n\n Folly, 67, 92, 122, 131, 205.\n\n Fool, the, 337 _et seq._\n\n Forgiveness, 314 _et seq._\n\n ---- God's, 370.\n\n Francis, St., 190.\n\n Friendship, 227 _et seq._\n\n\n Gambling, 32.\n\n God, His existence, 391.\n\n ---- men need Him, 43.\n\n ---- relation with human life, 47, 155, 197, 199, 217, 236, 252, 291,\n 353.\n\n Gregg, quoted, 73.\n\n\n Health, result of wisdom, 39.\n\n Heathenism, 158, 377.\n\n Heaven, 59, 162, 274.\n\n Hell, 59, 73.\n\n Henry II., 106.\n\n Home, 53.\n\n Honesty, 224.\n\n _Hudibras_, quoted, 266.\n\n Humility, 44, 127, 184, 189.\n\n\n Idleness, ruinous, 266.\n\n Immortality, 378.\n\n Impurity, 25, 27, 29.\n\n Indra, drunk, 279.\n\n Inspiration of the book of Proverbs, 157.\n\n Inwardness, 60.\n\n\n Jahveh, 15, 21.\n\n Jakeh, 6.\n\n Joy, 193.\n\n Justification, 161.\n\n\n King, the, 326 _et seq._\n\n ---- Divine right of, 331.\n\n\n Land, the land question, 270.\n\n Lanfranc, anecdote of, 205.\n\n Law, 113.\n\n Lemuel, 6, 396.\n\n Liberality, 43, 145.\n\n Lies, 89, 130, 167, 330.\n\n Livingstone, 59.\n\n Lot, the, use of, 217.\n\n Love, 209, 235, 311.\n\n\n Man, 114.\n\n Marriage, 69, 401.\n\n Massa, Gen. xxv. 14, 6.\n\n Meekness, 172, 210.\n\n Milton, quoted, 59, 69, 111, 133, 316, 367.\n\n Misanthrope, the, 240.\n\n Misapplication of Scripture, 346.\n\n Morality, relation to science, 116.\n\n Mother's influence, 397.\n\n ---- neglect, 53.\n\n Murder, 90.\n\n\n Nabal, 339.\n\n National righteousness, 154.\n\n Neighbourliness, 244.\n\n\n Obedience, 385.\n\n\n Parents, duties of, 306.\n\n Paton, John, 54, 217.\n\n Paul, St., 359.\n\n Pauperism, 290.\n\n Plain speaking, 65, 102.\n\n Pleasure, 276.\n\n Poor, the, 43, 141, 143, 176, 288 _et seq._\n\n Positivism, 378.\n\n Pride, 89, 179 _et seq._, 210.\n\n Proverbs, book of, its limitations, 22, 211, 316, 347.\n\n Punishment, 87, 309 _et seq._\n\n\n Quarrelling, 166.\n\n\n Rashness, 170.\n\n Realism, 66, 92.\n\n Reason, 341.\n\n Remorse, 77.\n\n Repetition of Proverbs, 2 (_note_).\n\n Reproof, 175.\n\n Revelation, necessary, 20, 375 _et seq._, 393.\n\n Revenge, 316.\n\n Robespierre, 377.\n\n Rubies, valley of, 49.\n\n\n Science, depends on theology, 113.\n\n ---- its limitations, 379, 380.\n\n Scorner, the, 125, 129.\n\n Servants, treatment of, 387.\n\n Shakespeare, quoted, 73, 86, 234, 241.\n\n Sin, its nature, 363, 367.\n\n ---- its results, 71, 74, 101.\n\n ---- its seductions, 68.\n\n Sister, 94.\n\n Sluggard, the, 82, 263.\n\n Socialism, 137, 147, 395.\n\n Solomon, not the author of the whole book, 2, 106.\n\n Speech, its power, 164.\n\n Suretiship, 80.\n\n Sweating, 31, 296.\n\n Sympathy, 196.\n\n\n Theism, necessary to knowledge, 19.\n\n Temper, 203, 207.\n\n Temperance, 280, 286.\n\n Tennyson, quoted, 67.\n\n Truth, injured by drink, 283.\n\n\n Wealth, 135 _et seq._\n\n ---- true, 356.\n\n Wife, the, 399 _et seq._\n\n Will, freedom of, 251 _et seq._\n\n Wisdom, meaning of, 10.\n\n ---- person of, 92, 108, 123.\n\n ---- rewards of, 37, 109.\n\n ---- the book of, 9, 10.\n\n ---- the book of, quoted, 118.\n\n Woman, 96, 132, 396.\n\n Work, its blessings, 268.\n\n Worthless man, the, 84.\n\n\n Youth, dangers of, 34.\n\n\n Zacch\u00e6us, 367.\n\n Zola, 67.\n\n\n _Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury._\n\n\n\n\n 27, PATERNOSTER ROW,\n LONDON.\n\n HODDER & STOUGHTON'S\n\n _NEW WORKS._\n\n\n =Mackay of Uganda.= A. M. MACKAY, Pioneer Missionary of the Church\n Missionary Society to Uganda. By HIS SISTER. With Etched\n Portrait by H. MANESSE. Fifth Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth, 7s.\n 6d.\n\n \"A very interesting biography of one of Africa's most devoted\n missionaries and martyrs.\"--_Times._\n\n \"Seldom have I read a more fascinating volume.\"--_Echo._\n\n \"A most valuable storehouse of facts and original documents about\n Mackay. Few more engrossing or impressive works have ever been\n issued than this simple account of a pioneer\n missionary.\"--_Record._\n\n =Sir George Burns, Bart.=, His Times and Friends. By EDWIN HODDER,\n Author of \"The Life and Work of the Seventh Earl of\n Shaftesbury, K.G.;\" \"The Life of Samuel Morley,\" etc. With\n Etched Portrait by MANESSE. 8vo, cloth, 14s.\n\n \"Mr. Hodder, who is well, and in many respects favourably, known\n by his biographies of Lord Shaftesbury and Mr. Samuel Morley, has\n found an equally congenial theme in the life of a man who had not\n a little in common with these two eminent\n philanthropists.\"--_Times._\n\n \"The volume abounds with racy anecdotes and interesting incidents\n relating to business men, literary men, ministers,\n philanthropists, scientists, soldiers, and statesmen with whom Sir\n George Burns was on terms of personal friendship, and is a\n charming and delightful record of a long and illustrious\n career.\"--_Scotsman._\n\n =The Life of Sir William McArthur.= By the Rev. THOMAS MCCULLAGH.\n With Etched Portrait by MANESSE. Crown 8vo, cloth, 7s. 6d.\n\n =The Living Christ and the Four Gospels.= By R. W. 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H. KENNEDY, B.D., Rector of Stillorgan. Crown 8vo,\n cloth.\n\n =Echoes of Two Little Voices.= By G. M. S. With an Introduction by\n the Rev. J. H. WILSON, D.D., Barclay Church, Edinburgh. Fcap.\n 8vo, cloth, 1s. 6d.\n\n =Veni Creator=: Thoughts on the Person and Work of the Holy Spirit\n of Promise. By the Rev. H. C. G. MOULE, M.A., Principal of\n Ridley Hall, Cambridge. Third Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s.\n\n \"Whatever the Principal of Ridley Hall writes is worth reading.\n There is in it always a spirit of devotion and practical religion\n which tends to communicate itself to his readers with a blessed\n contagion. He has the power to bring intense devotional piety into\n the common concerns of life; he helps us to see how to bring the\n supernatural into intimate relations with the\n natural.\"--_Guardian._\n\n \"In it we discover a firm grasp of Divine truth, marked expository\n skill, a deeply spiritual and reverent manner of approaching the\n subject.... It is impossible to read this book without rising with\n a clearer appreciation of the nature and extent of the Holy\n Spirit's operations.\"--_Record._\n\n =\"Until the Day Break,\" and other Hymns and Poems Left Behind.= By\n HORATIUS BONAR, D.D. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s.\n\n =Christian Theism=: A Brief and Popular Survey of the Evidence\n upon which it rests, and the Objections urged against it\n Considered and Refuted. By the Rev. C. A. ROW, M.A. (Oxon.),\n D.D., Prebendary of St. Paul's Cathedral. Second Edition. In\n crown 8vo, cloth, 5s.\n\n \"He writes clearly and forcibly, he reasons calmly and justly....\n He has certainly made out a good case of Christian theism, and put\n the arguments for it in a clear and telling way.\"--_Scotsman._\n\n\n\n\n _IMPORTANT TO ALL BIBLE STUDENTS._\n\n THE NEWBERRY BIBLE.\n\n Formerly known as \"THE ENGLISHMAN'S BIBLE,\" edited by\n _THOMAS NEWBERRY_.\n\n\nCOMPRISING: The English-Hebrew Bible and the English-Greek Testament,\ndesigned to give, as far as practicable, the Accuracy, Precision, and\nCertainty of the Original Hebrew and Greek Scriptures on the Page of\nthe Authorised Version. Adapted both for the Biblical Student and for\nthe Ordinary English Reader.\n\n Large Type Handy Reference Edition.\n\nThis Edition of \"The Englishman's Bible\" contains numerous additional\nreferences; the Hebrew and Greek words, also, with their English\nequivalents, having been greatly increased. It was formerly issued in\nsix vols., at 45_s._, and is now printed on a fine thin opaque India\npaper, specially made, and published at such a price as to place it\nwithin the reach of Bible Students.\n\n _Issued in four Bindings, round corners, gilt edges:--_\n\n Persian leather, bevelled boards 21_s._\n Persian yapp, leather lined 25_s._\n Levanted morocco, yapp, leather lined, silk sewn 35_s._\n A very superior edition, in best Levant yapp, kid lined,\n silk sewn 60_s._\n\n The Very Rev. the DEAN OF CANTERBURY says:--\"It will, I think,\n enable the English reader thoroughly to understand the original,\n and place him in a position as near as possible to that of a\n Hebrew scholar. I find it executed with the utmost accuracy.\"\n\n The late Dr. HORATIUS BONAR says:--\"It is beyond all price. Its\n minuteness of detail, its accuracy, its perspicuity, its\n scholar-like finish, are such as to make one of the most\n trustworthy and precious volumes in connection with critical study\n that have ever issued from the press.\"\n\n_The Supplement is issued separately, Royal 8vo, cloth, 10s., entitled_\n\n THE TABERNACLE AND TEMPLE.\n\n WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n\n\n THE EXPOSITOR'S BIBLE.\n\n Edited by Rev. W. R. NICOLL, M.A., LL.D.\n\n _All Volumes sold separately. Price 7s. 6d. each._\n\n\n =Genesis.= By the Rev. MARCUS DODS, D.D., Professor of New\n Testament Exegesis, New College, Edinburgh, Author of \"The\n Parables of Our Lord,\" etc. Fourth Edition.\n\n =Exodus.= By the Very Rev. G. A. CHADWICK, D.D., Dean of Armagh,\n Author of \"Christ Bearing Witness to Himself,\" etc.\n\n =The Book of Leviticus.= By the Rev. S. H. KELLOGG, D.D.\n\n =Judges and Ruth.= By the Rev. R. A. WATSON, M.A., Author of\n \"Gospels of Yesterday.\"\n\n =The First Book of Samuel.= By the Rev. Professor W. G. BLAIKIE,\n D.D., LL.D. Third Edition.\n\n =The Second Book of Samuel.= By the same Author. Third Edition.\n\n =The Book of Proverbs.= By the Rev. R. F. HORTON, M.A.\n\n =Ecclesiastes.= With a New Translation. By the Rev. SAMUEL COX,\n D.D.\n\n =Isaiah.= Chapters I.-XXXIX. By the Rev. GEORGE ADAM SMITH, M.A.,\n Aberdeen. Fifth Edition.\n\n =Isaiah.= Chapters XL.-LXVI. By the same Author. Fifth Thousand.\n\n =The Prophecies of Jeremiah.= With a Sketch of his Life and Times.\n By the Rev. C. J. BALL, M.A., Chaplain of Lincoln's Inn.\n\n =St. Matthew.= By the Rev. J. MONRO GIBSON, D.D., London, Author\n of \"The Ages before Moses,\" etc.\n\n =St. Mark.= By the Very Rev. G. A. CHADWICK, D.D., Dean of Armagh,\n Author of \"The Book of Exodus,\" etc. Third Edition.\n\n =St. Luke.= By the Rev. HENRY BURTON, M.A.\n\n =The Gospel of St. John.= Vol. I. By the Rev. Professor MARCUS\n DODS, D.D.\n\n =The Acts of the Apostles.= By the Rev. G. T. STOKES, D.D.\n\n =First Epistle to the Corinthians.= By the Rev. Professor MARCUS\n DODS, D.D., Author of \"Israel's Iron Age.\" Second Edition.\n\n =Galatians.= By the Rev. Professor G. G. FINDLAY, B.A., Headingley\n College, Leeds. Second Edition.\n\n =Colossians and Philemon.= By the Rev. ALEXANDER MACLAREN, D.D.,\n of Manchester. Fourth Edition.\n\n =The Pastoral Epistles.= By the Rev. ALFRED PLUMMER, D.D., Master\n of University College, Durham. Second Edition.\n\n =Hebrews.= By the Rev. Principal T. C. EDWARDS, D.D., Author of \"A\n Commentary on the First Epistle to the Corinthians.\" Fourth\n Edition.\n\n =The Epistles of St. John.= By the Right Rev. W. ALEXANDER, D.D.,\n D.C.L., Brasenose College, Oxford, Lord Bishop of Derry and\n Raphoe.\n\n =The Epistles of St. James and St. Jude.= By the Rev. ALFRED\n PLUMMER, D.D., Master of University College, Durham.\n\n =Revelation.= By the Rev. Professor W. MILLIGAN, D.D., of the\n University of Aberdeen.\n\n\n\n\n HODDER & STOUGHTON'S\n\n _RECENT PUBLICATIONS._\n\n BY THE LATE CHARLES LORING BRACE.\n\n\n I.\n\n =The Unknown God; or, Inspiration among Pre-Christian Races.= In\n 8vo, cloth, 12s.\n\n \"A most valuable and remarkable book.\"--_Church Bells._\n\n \"A singularly able contribution to the study of a fascinating\n subject, throughout characterised by that large-hearted tolerance\n which is a characteristic of the time.\"--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n II.\n\n =Gesta Christi=: A History of Human Progress under Christianity.\n Third Edition. Large crown 8vo, cloth, 7s. 6d.\n\n \"A really earnest and noble book.\"--_Academy._\n\n \"This really valuable book.\"--_Daily News._\n\n * * * * *\n\n =Nunnery Life in the Church of England; or, Seventeen Years with\n Father Ignatius.= By SISTER MARY AGNES, O.S.B. Introduction by\n the Rev. W. LANCELOT HOLLAND, M.A., Vicar of All Saints',\n Hatcham. With Portrait. Fourth Thousand. 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In crown\n 8vo, cloth, 7s. 6d.\n\n \"There is noticeable throughout them a sincerity, a strong\n affection, and sureness of faith; a tender-heartedness and\n sympathy for the lot of the poor and suffering which is real and\n often touching. His best sermons are his simplest, and his power\n shows itself most surely when he is dealing with matters of\n character and the conduct of life.\"--_Spectator._\n\n =The Growth of Church Institutions.= By Rev. EDWIN HATCH, D.D.\n Second Edition. In crown 8vo, 5s.\n\n \"Standing quite by itself as a solid result of individual search,\n a book stiff with significant facts and bursting with\n inferences.\"--_Expositor._\n\n =Towards Fields of Light. Sacred Poems.= By the Same Author.\n Cloth, gilt edges, crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.\n\n \"They are exquisitely beautiful.\"--_Church Review._\n\n \"These delicate and thoughtful poems breathe the very spirit of\n their author, broad, simple, and sincere.\"--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n =Personal and Family Glimpses of Remarkable People.= By the\n Venerable Archdeacon E. W. WHATELY, M.A., late Chancellor of\n St. Patrick's and Rector of Werberg, Dublin. In crown 8vo,\n cloth, 6s. 6d.\n\n \"Charming, and very readable.\"--_English Churchman._\n\n \"A bright and pleasant book of cultivated and well-informed\n gossip.\"--_Leeds Mercury._\n\n =Professor W. G. Elmslie, D.D. Memoir and Sermons.= With Portrait.\n Third Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth, 6s.\n\n Memoir by W. ROBERTSON NICOLL, M.A., LL.D. With Reminiscences by\n Professor MARCUS DODS, D.D., Professor HENRY DRUMMOND, Rev.\n JOHN SMITH, M.A., and Rev. JAMES STALKER, D.D.\n\n \"In more ways than one this volume is full of interest. Dr.\n Robertson Nicoll has outlined the personal career of the Professor\n of Hebrew for his pupils, and of the Presbyterian minister for his\n disciples, whether directly or indirectly under his charge; but,\n in supplying them with an admirable selection of memorable words,\n has given a wider public the opportunity of making acquaintance\n with the thoughtful life of an original religious mind. The value\n of the portrait--for it should be valuable to those working for\n and with others in the spiritual struggles of the age--lies in the\n inspiration it should give to young thinkers in the Christian\n Church. In these selections we have little that is not truly\n catholic in spirit. We do not mean that Professor Elmslie's papers\n are in any way of classic rank, but we do mean that they tell us\n of those serene depths over which roll the waves of this\n troublesome world, powerless to affect their calm. It is\n impossible by extracts to give an idea of the impression of\n strength made upon one by what are, after all, only popular\n sermons and surface-papers; but we think some will thank us for\n calling attention to what we point to as typical of a young\n teaching spirit of our own time in its sensitive perceptiveness\n and practical administrative activity.\"--_Spectator._\n\n =James Macdonell (of \"The Times\").= A Story of Self-Help. By W.\n ROBERTSON NICOLL, M.A., LL.D. With Etched Portrait by H.\n MANESSE. 8vo, 12s.\n\n \"An admirable portrait.\"--_Academy._\n\n \"Mr. W. Robertson Nicoll has enriched not only the literature of\n our day, but the lives of many of us by his sincere, sympathetic,\n loyal, and artistic rendering of what he fairly calls 'the only\n life of a journalist pure and simple ever written.' ... This\n masterly monograph.\"--_Daily Telegraph._\n\n =Imago Christi=: The Example of Jesus Christ. By the Rev. JAMES\n STALKER, D.D., M.A., Glasgow, Author of \"The Life of Jesus\n Christ,\" \"The Life of St. Paul,\" etc. Fifteenth Thousand. In\n crown 8vo, cloth, 5s.\n\n \"A delightful book upon a glorious subject, by one who is better\n qualified to write it than any other living man.... An immortal\n book.\"--_Sword and Trowel._\n\n SECOND EDITION, WITH NEW INDEX.\n\n =The Miracles of Our Lord.= Expository and Homiletic. By the Rev.\n JOHN LAIDLAW, D.D., Professor of Theology, New College,\n Edinburgh, Author of \"The Bible Doctrine of Man,\" etc. In\n crown 8vo, cloth, 7s. 6d.\n\n \"One of the most suggestive books we have seen lately on the study\n of the Gospels.\"--_Methodist Recorder._\n\n \"Marked by the competent scholarship, the sound and cautious\n exegesis, the homiletic tact, and the mastery of lucid and, at\n times, beautiful style which characterise his\n preaching.\"--_Theological Review._\n\n =Joints in Our Social Armour.= By JAMES RUNCIMAN, Author of \"A\n Dream of the North Sea,\" etc. In crown 8vo, cloth, 5s.\n\n \"Few sermons, one would fancy, could do more good than this book,\n honestly considered. It speaks plain sense on faults and follies\n that are usually gently satirised, and makes fine invigorating\n reading. The book warmly deserves success.\"--_Scotsman._\n\n \"Mr. Runciman expresses himself with a vigour which leaves nothing\n to be desired. He leaves no doubt of what he thinks,--and he\n thinks, anyhow, on the right side.... Altogether a very vigorous\n deliverance.\"--_Spectator._\n\n =The Makers of Modern English.= By W. J. DAWSON. In crown 8vo,\n cloth, 5s.\n\n\n BY THE SAME AUTHOR.\n\n =The Threshold of Manhood.= A Young Man's Words to Young Men.\n Second Edition. In crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.\n\n =John G. Paton, Missionary to the New Hebrides=: An Autobiography.\n Edited by his Brother, the Rev. JAMES PATON, B.A. With\n Portrait. Fifteenth Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth, 6s. First\n Part.\n\n Dr. T. L. CUYLER says:--\"I have just laid down the most robust and\n the most fascinating piece of autobiography that I have met with\n in many a day. It is the story of the wonderful work wrought by\n John G. Paton, the famous missionary to the New Hebrides; he is\n made of the same stuff with Livingstone. A book which is as\n thrilling as any romance.\"\n\n The REV. DR. PIERSON, author of \"The Crisis of Missions,\"\n says:--\"I consider it _unsurpassed_ in missionary biography. In\n the whole course of my extensive reading on these topics, a more\n stimulating, inspiring, and every way first-class book has not\n fallen into my hands. Everybody ought to read it.\"\n\n =John G. Paton, Missionary to the New Hebrides=: An Autobiography.\n With Frontispiece. Twelfth Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth, 6s.\n Second Part.\n\n \"That the present volume will be received with as much favour as\n its predecessor may be looked upon as a foregone conclusion.\n Together they form one of the most fascinating records of\n missionary work.\"--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n \"No modern missionary story is more thrilling, romantic, or in\n parts pathetic, than this; none furnishes more convincing proof of\n the power of the Gospel or the efficacy of prayer. The whole story\n is told without one word of self-exaltation, and in a style\n charming in its simplicity and tenderness.\"--_Methodist Times._\n\n\n\n\n THE THEOLOGICAL EDUCATOR.\n\n Edited by the Rev. W. ROBERTSON NICOLL, M.A., LL.D. Fcap.\n 8vo, 2s. 6d. each Vol.\n\n\n =The Language of the New Testament.= By the Rev. WILLIAM HENRY\n SIMCOX, M.A.\n\n \"The most living grammar of the New Testament we\n have.\"--_Expositor._\n\n =Outlines of Christian Doctrine.= By the Rev. H. C. G. MOULE,\n M.A., Principal of Ridley Hall, Cambridge. Third Edition.\n\n =An Introduction to the New Testament.= By Rev. MARCUS DODS, D.D.\n Third Edition.\n\n =An Introduction to the Textual Criticism of the New Testament.=\n By the Rev. Professor B. B. WARFIELD, D.D. Third Thousand.\n\n =A Manual of Church History.= By the Rev. A. C. JENNINGS, M.A. In\n Two Volumes.\n\n Vol. I.--From the First to the Tenth Century.\n\n Vol. II.--From the Eleventh to the Nineteenth Century.\n\n =A Manual of Christian Evidences.= By the Rev. Prebendary C. A.\n ROWE, M.A. Sixth Thousand.\n\n =A Manual of the Book of Common Prayer.= Showing its History and\n Contents. For the use of those studying for Holy Orders and\n others. By the Rev. CHARLES HOLE, B.A., King's College,\n London.\n\n =A Hebrew Grammar.= By the Rev. W. H. LOWE, M.A., Joint Author of\n \"A Commentary on the Psalms,\" etc., etc. Second Thousand.\n\n =An Exposition of the Apostles' Creed.= By the Rev. J. E. YONGE,\n M.A., late Fellow of King's College, Cambridge.\n\n\n\n\n \"A very complete guide to the sermon literature of the present day.\"\n --_Scotsman._\n\n THE SERMON BIBLE.\n\n Strongly Bound in Half-Buckram. 7s. 6d. each Volume.\n\n _Each containing some Hundreds of Sermon Outlines, and several\n Thousand References._\n\n\n=Vol. I.--Genesis to 2 Samuel.=\n\n \"We do not hesitate to pronounce this the most practically useful\n work of its kind at present extant. It is not a commentary, but a\n _Thesaurus_ of sermons on texts arranged consecutively, chapter\n after chapter and book after book.... We are bound to say that the\n object announced by the compilers is on the way to be realised,\n and here will be given the essence of the best homiletic\n literature of this generation.\"--_Literary Churchman._\n\n=Vol. II.--1 Kings to Psalm LXXVI.=\n\n \"Preachers anxious to discover the best books out of which they\n may collect golden thoughts on any particular text, for use in\n their sermons, will doubtless be glad of the volume before us,\n which aims at being a guide-book, pointing out where sermons and\n articles on those texts may be found. In addition to this,\n extracts from sermons are given in the book itself.\"--_English\n Churchman._\n\n \"The series, when completed, will form an excellent guide to the\n best English sermons of recent times, while it presents, as well,\n a selection of outlines upon the most important passages of\n Scripture by the best preachers of our time.\"--_Methodist\n Recorder._\n\n=Vol. III.--Psalm LXXVII. to Song of Solomon.=\n\n \"The preachers whose names appear in connection with this book are\n some of the most remarkable of the past and present generations.\n The Book of Ecclesiastes furnishes some beautiful texts, which are\n here handled admirably; and even the Song of Songs gives preachers\n of a more mystical turn exercise for their peculiar gifts. The\n volume is likely to be very serviceable to preachers.\"--_Church\n Bells._\n\n=Vol. IV.--Isaiah to Malachi.=\n\n \"There is, as in previous volumes, great diversity of thought, the\n homiletic matter being the product of minds widely differing in\n theological views. It is a model of neatness in its get-up, and\n cannot fail to be a valued, because valuable, addition to any\n clerical library.\"--_Rock._\n\n=Vol. V.--Matthew I. to XXI.=\n\n \"The plan has been carried out with such admirable impartiality\n and such excellent taste that the student who wishes to ascertain\n how a given text is handled by the ablest English-speaking pulpit\n expositors of the day can hardly fail to find here what he seeks\n presented in the briefest form possible, an elaborate sermon being\n usually condensed into two or three short\n paragraphs.\"--_Manchester Examiner._\n\n\n LONDON: HODDER AND STOUGHTON, 27, PATERNOSTER ROW.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Notes\n\n\nObvious punctuation and spelling errors have been fixed throughout.\n\nInconsistent hyphenation has been left as in the original text.\n\nFootnote 129: There is no anchor for this footnote, left as in the\noriginal text.\n\nFootnotes 163, 371, 432, 452 and 609: There are 2 anchors for the same\nfootnote, left as in the original text.","title":"The Expositor's Bible: The Book of Proverbs","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":126901}