chapter ii
. 21, 22, etc.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The wicked build houses on the earth; the earth is their home, where they desire to be, and they imagine to settle themselves in it. The upright do set up tabernacles only, seeking another country, and as knowing the uncertainty upon which the world standeth. For though the habitation of the wicked be a _house,_ and rooted in the earth, yet it shall not only be _shaken,_ but _overthrown,_ and though the abiding of the upright be but a _tabernacle_ pinned to the earth, yet shall it stand so safely that it shall _flourish_ like a rooted tree. Wherefore, when in the Revelation we read "Woe to the inhabitants of the earth" (chap. viii. 13), St. Jerome understands it of the wicked only. For a godly man is not an inhabiter of the earth, but a stranger and a sojourner. And his tabernacle doth so flourish, that it reacheth to heaven, for he hath his dwelling in heaven to whom the whole world is an inn.--_Jermin._
The "house of the wicked" may be a most prosperous one, and may seem to be full of peace; but it is doomed. It must become "desolate," literally _astonished;_ which is the eastern way of describing great downfalls. "But the tent of the upright" (another intensive clause) his slenderest possessions; like a sprout; like some poor tender plant, shall _bloom forth._ Such is the meaning of _"flourish."--Miller._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 12.
WHAT SEEMS TO BE, AND WHAT IS.
+I. Human nature needs more light than is found in the human conscience.+ The way which "seems right unto a man" may be "the way of death." A mariner who has insufficient light to observe correctly the needle in the compass, may think he is steering for the haven when he is taking the vessel straight upon the rocks. He may be very sincere in his conviction that he is going right, but his thinking so will not make it so. He needs more light than he has. So the light of conscience is not enough to guide a man with certainty in the true and right way. If conscientious sincerity was an infallible guide Paul would not have "delivered to prison" men and women for being followers of Jesus of Nazareth (Acts. xxii. 4). The way that in his ignorance seemed right to him, was felt by him to be a "way of death" when his conscience was enlightened. Conscience may be deadened by sin, or warped by prejudice or self-interest; it is not a reliable and certain guide. If it were, it was needless for the Son of God to visit the earth and make known the will of His Father--the revelation of God's will in the books of the Old and New Testaments is a superfluity. The existence of the Bible is explained by the fact which is found to be true by all God-taught men, that "the way of man is not in himself: it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps" (Jer. x. 23). God, by speaking unto men in "sundry times and in divers manners," and especially "in these last days by His Son" (Heb. i. 1) declares plainly that man needs something outside of himself to guide him into that path of righteousness which alone is a way of life. The history of the world confirms this truth. Observation of every-day life tells the same tale.
+II. The need of human nature has been fully met.+ All that the mariner needs in order to keep the vessel's head right is light to see the compass. God in Christ is a sufficient light to man. Paul says: _"God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ"_ (2 Cor. iv. 6). Christ Himself tells us that it is those only who "follow Him" who have the "light of life" (John viii. 12). That the way thus revealed is fully adapted to meet man's need is proved by the results which follow from walking in it. The progress which a sick man makes towards health is the most convincing proof of the efficacy of his physician's treatment. The light which is shed upon men by the revelation of God, and especially by the Gospel, has been proven by its result upon individuals and upon nations, to be all-powerful to turn men from "darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God" (Acts xxvi. 18). The way of sin is the way of death--death morally, socially, and physically. The way of holiness is the only way of spiritual life to the soul and to the community, and ensures victory over the penalty of bodily death.
_ILLUSTRATION._
THE LAST WORDS OF HILDEBRAND.--One of the greatest of the sons of earth (if we measure greatness either by posthumous fame or posthumous influence) lay on his death bed. Prelates, princes, priests, devoted adherents and attendants stood around. Anxious to catch the last accents of that once oracular voice, the mourners were bending over him, when, struggling in the very grasp of death, he collected, for one last effort, his failing powers, and breathed out his spirit with the indignant exclamation, "I have loved righteousness and hated iniquity, and therefore I die in exile." . . . That he went into the unseen world consciously and deliberately with a lie in his right hand, is a supposition utterly inadmissible. Passionate earnestness and intense conviction were stamped upon all his words and works. . . . He had climbed the slippery steps of intrigue to the Papal throne, and to set that throne above all thrones of the earth, and to cause everyone, "both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond," to bow down in the dust before it, was thenceforward his sole aim and object. . . . It was for this that he enforced that celibacy of the clergy which has ever since been the law of the Church. He found thousands of married priests ministering at her altars in innocence of heart, thinking no sin, and fearing no dishonour. . . . He commanded them to put away their wives on pain of excommunication, which meant deprivation of all rights, spiritual, social, and human. . . . One cry of indignation, one prolonged and bitter wail of agony, arose throughout Europe, from the Apennines to the Baltic Sea. . . . Wives were torn from their husbands, children from their fathers. Popular fanaticism allied itself with Papal tyranny. . . . There was no pity for worse than widowed wives, and worse than orphaned children flung out upon the cold world to starve. The Pontiff trod his stern, remorseless way over broken hearts. . . . But he had a dangerous antagonist to encounter. . . . The Holy Roman Empire and the Holy Roman Church were together to dominate the world. But which of them was to dominate the other? Hildebrand's long contest with Henry IV. may be said to have decided the question. But with what weapons was it fought? We see the gallant Saxons tempted by bribes and promises to revolt, and then, in their hour of distress, treacherously abandoned by him who was at once their ally and "spiritual father," and to whom they addressed in vain those noble and pathetic remonstrances which, even to this day, cannot be read without emotion. Thus Hildebrand "loved righteousness.". . . But the Pontiff, so stern to his antagonists, could be mild to his allies. Keen swords in strong hands were necessary to support his power, the heaviest swords in Europe were borne by Norman knights. Robert, the conqueror of Sicily, William, the conqueror of England, were the representative men of this fierce and fiery race. . . . They were bloody, avaricious and unscrupulous. No more cruel conquerors ever turned a fruitful land into a waste, howling wilderness. No more remorseless oppressors ever trod down the poor with a heel of iron. . . . But their crimes were unrebuked by Hildebrand. . . . William was "addressed in the blandest accents of esteem and tenderness," while Robert, the tyrant of Sicily, "was embraced and honoured as the faithful ally of Rome." Thus Hildebrand "hated iniquity." That "way" in which he walked all his life long with a consistency of purpose and intensity of energy that moves our admiration, seemed "right unto himself," nay, it seemed to be pre-eminently the way of righteousness, but what shall we say of "the end thereof."--_Etchings from History,_ by Miss Alcock. See _Sunday at Home,_ February 15th, 1879.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Souls perish always with surprise. . . . But yet the _seeing_ here noted must be taken _cum grano._ Deep in the lost heart of the knowledge of its _"end,"_ rather its "afterpart." The way lasts for ever, and its _afterward_ "is the ways of death!" Deep in the lost man's heart he knows all this, and this makes a dark ground for his gaieties. (See next verse.)--_Miller._
There are some ways which can hardly "seem right" to any man--the ways, namely, of open and flagrant wickedness. But there are many ways, which, under the biassing influence of pride and corruption, "_seem_ right," and yet their _"end"_ is _"death."_ +I. The way of the sober, well-behaved worldling.+ He thinks of the law as if it had been only one table, the first being entirely overlooked. He passes among his circle for a man of good character, and flatters himself, in proportion as he is flattered by others, that all is right. . . . But his way is not the way of life, for God is not in it. +II. The way of the formalist.+ He follows, strictly and punctually, the round of religious observance. . . . But his heart has not been given to God. The world still has it. He compromises the retention of its affections for the things of sense by giving God the pitiful and worthless offering of outward homage. But it will not do. Those services cannot _terminate in life,_ which _have no life in them._ +III. The way of the speculative religionist.+ From education, or as a matter of curiosity, he has made himself an adept in religious controversy. He holds by the creed of orthodoxy, and imagines that this kind of knowledge is religion. But speculative opinion is not saving knowledge--is not the faith which "worketh by love" and "overcomes the world."--_Wardlaw._
Good intentions are not a justification for wrong doing (2 Sam. vi. 6). Judges xvii. 6 gives an awful illustration of the end of "every man doing that which is right in his own eyes." (Cf. the prohibition of this, Deut. xii. 8.)--_Fausset._
This may be his _easily besetting sin,_ the _sin of his constitution,_ the _sin of his trade._ Or it may be _his own false views of religion:_ he may have an _imperfect repentance,_ a _false faith,_ a _very false creed._ Many of the Papists, when they were burning the saints of God in the flames of Smithfield, thought they were doing God service.--_A. Clarke._
The self-delusion of one ends in death by the sentence of the judge, that of another in self-murder; of one in loathsome disease, of another in slow decay under the agony of conscience, or in sorrow over a henceforth dishonoured and distracted life.--_Delitzsch._
Sin comes clothed with a show of reason (Exodus i. 10); and lust will so blear the understanding, that he shall think there is great sense in sinning. "Adam was not deceived" (1 Tim. ii. 14), that is, he was not so much deceived by his judgment--though also by that too--as by his affection to his wife, which at length blinded his judgment. The heart first deceives us with colours; and when we are once a-doting after sin, then we join and deceive our hearts (James i. 26), using fallacious and specious sophism, to make ourselves think that lawful to-day which we held unlawful yesterday. . . . But it falls out with us as with him that, lying upon a steep rock, and dreaming of good matters befallen him, starts suddenly for joy, and breaks his neck at the bottom. As he that makes a bridge of his own shadow cannot but fall into the water, so neither can he escape the pit of hell who lays his own presumption in the place of God's promise.--_Trapp._
Some say, surely God will not punish a man hereafter who conscientiously walks up to his convictions, although these convictions be in point of fact mistaken. They err, knowing neither the inspired Word of God nor natural laws. Do men imagine that God, who has established this world in such exquisite order, and rules it by regular laws, will abdicate, and leave the better world in anarchy? This world is blessed by an undeviating connection between cause and effect; will the next be abandoned to random impulses, or left to chaos? . . . It is not even conceivable that the direction of a man's course could not determine his landing-place. . . . Perhaps the secret reason why an expectation so contrary to all analogy is yet so fondly entertained, is a tacit disbelief in the reality of things spiritual and eternal. We see clearly the laws by which effects follow causes in time; but the matters upon which these laws operate are substantial realities. If there were a firm conviction that the world to come is a substance, and not merely a name, the expectation would naturally be generated, that the same principles which regulate the Divine administration of the world now, will stretch into the unseen, and rule it all. . . . Truth shines like light from heaven; but the mind and conscience within the man constitute the reflector that receives it. Thence we must read off the impression, as the astronomer reads the image from the reflector at the bottom of his tube. When that tablet is dimmed by the breath of evil spirits dwelling within, the truth is distorted and turned into a lie.--_Arnot._
There is no way which doth not seem right in his eyes who liketh to go in it. For man is led in all things by a seeming good; and such is the foulness of doing amiss, that it must put on the painted colours of doing right, or else it cannot draw the eyes of man's mind unto it. But it is the not seeing the end which causeth the seeming rightness of the way, and it is _to man_ that it seems so, who is so apt to be deceived. He that hath a long fight, and in the beginning can see the end, he maketh the shortest journey and speedeth the best in it. If the beginning be a due consideration of the end, the end will be a beginning of true joy and comfort. It is not so in the way which seemeth to be right. For being but _a way,_ it is passed and ended, and then begin _the ways of death,_ which are said to be many, because there is an endless going on in them.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 13.
TRUE AND FALSE MIRTH.
This proverb, as it stands in our English version, cannot be taken as universally true. The first clause is rendered by some translators--"Even in laughter the heart _may be_ sorrowful" (see Critical Notes), and experience and Bible teaching both necessitate our giving a limitation to the second clause also.
+I. Whether mirth will end in heaviness depends upon its character--therefore upon the character of the man who is mirthful.+ There is an innocent and right mirth, there is an ill-timed, guilty mirth. The end of lawful mirth is not heaviness. It is good for the _body._ A physician is glad to see his patient mirthful. He knows that it will act most beneficially, and assist his recovery to health. A mirthful man will not suffer so much physical injury from the wear and tear of life as one who is always sombre and melancholy. Lawful mirth is good for the _mind._ It is the unbending of the bow which breaks if it is kept always at its extreme tension. A man who is naturally mirthful--who is ever disposed to see men and things in their brightest colours, must be a creature of hope, and hope has power to surround those who possess her with a paradise of their own creation, which is very independent of outward circumstances. Natural, wholesome mirth will make a man much stronger to do and to bear all the duties and trials of life. But natural, lawful mirth is only proper to godly men. Christians are the only people in the world who have reason to be glad. All those who are worthy of the name ought to be able, amidst all the saddening influences of life, to hold fast such a confidence in God as shall leave room for the play even of mirth. But the man who is in a state of alienation from God has no reason to be mirthful, his mirth must be either feigned or the result of a thoughtless disregard of his own relations to God and eternity. The "end" of such mirth must be "heaviness."
+II. Laughter is not always an index of feeling.+ There is doubtless much that passes for mirth among the ungodly that is merely a blind to conceal intentions or feelings deeply hidden in the soul. The seducer laughs at the fears and misgivings of his victim, but his laugh is not the laugh of the light-hearted, God-fearing man. Its very ring tells any unprejudiced hearer that there is a flaw somewhere, and it is only assumed to enable him to effect his purpose. In such laughter there may not be present actual sorrow, but there is an entire absence of gladness of heart. But laughter often veils the deepest and most heartfelt misery. The poor drunkard will laugh at the debauchery of the past night while he feels a bitter consciousness of his degradation. Many a man laughs with his gay companions, and all the while sees a dread future rising up before him which he trembles to meet. The _character_ of him who laughs will afford the best clue by which to determine whether or not the laughter is the outcome of genuine mirth.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Already the wise king was beginning to experience what he more fully states in Eccles. ii. 2; vii. 6. Men's very pleasures turn into their opposites.--_Fausset._
Not of its own nature, of course; for a proverb has already said that there is a _"joy"_ which is not our foe. Not this is always the case; but there is such a case. Because the wicked get nothing really but their "ways" (verse 14).--_Miller._
The sun doth not ever shine: there is a time of setting. No day of jollity is without its evening of conclusion, if no cloud of disturbance prevent it with an overcasting. First God complains, men sing, dance, and are jovial and neglectful; at last man shall complain, and "God shall laugh at their calamity." Who should God be conjured to receive that spirit dying which would not receive God's Spirit living?--_T. Adams._
As soon might true joy be found in hell as in the carnal heart. As soon might the tempest-tossed ocean be at rest as the sinner's conscience (Isa. lvii. 20, 21). He may feast in his prison, or dance in his chains. . . . But if he has found a diversion from present trouble, has he found a cover from everlasting misery? It is far easier to drown conviction than to escape damnation. . . . But the end of that mirth implies another with a different end. Contrast the prodigal's mirth in the far country with his return to his father's house when "they began to be merry."--_Bridges._
Every human heart carries the feeling of disquiet and of separation from its true home, and of the nothingness, transitoriness of all that is earthly; and in addition to this, there is many a secret sorrow in everyone which grows out of his own corporeal and spiritual life, and from his relation to other men; and this sorrow, which from infancy onward is the lot of the human heart, and which more and more deepens and diversifies itself in the course of life, makes itself perceptible even in the midst of laughter, in spite of the mirth and merriment, without being able to be suppressed or expelled for the soul, returning always the more intensely, the more violently we may for a time have kept it under, and sunk it in unconsciousness. From the fact that sorrow is the fundamental condition of humanity, and forms the back-ground of laughter, it follows that it is not good for man to give himself up to joy, viz., sensual (worldly), for to it the issue is sorrow.--_Delitzsch._
There are two sorts of joys--the joy natural and the joy spiritual; the joy of vanity and the joy of verity; a joy in the creature and a joy in the Creator; a joy in a mutable thing and a joy in a matter immutable. The spiritual joys are the joys of the palace. The natural joys are the joys of prisoners. These are to worldlings that are without God seeming joys, because they know no better. They cannot get Penelope, they will be suitors to her maidens. . . . The godly are like the ant, they are first weary, then merry; but the ungodly are like the grasshopper, first they sing and then they sorrow.--_Bishop Abernethy,_ 1630.
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 14.
SATISFACTION AND DISSATISFACTION.
+I. The position and character of the backslider.+ The word suggests that there has been a time in the past when his moral standing was high. There must have once been a going forward, if there is now a sliding backward. Up to a certain time progress was made. Of many followers of our Lord it is written that from a certain period "they went back and walked no more with Him" (John vi. 66). They had walked with Him in outward discipleship at least, and it is probable that their hearts had been more or less influenced for good. Their "walking no more" was a going back probably in outward life, certainly in right disposition towards the Christ of God. The man of our text is "a backslider in heart." Then there must once have been a going forward of his soul towards God and goodness, and outward movement towards righteousness and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. But the forward movement has ceased--the retrograde movement has set in within the man, although it may not immediately be seen in his outward conduct. Solomon was himself a sad example of a backslider. In his early days his heart was turned towards his God, his desires after righteousness were strong, his moral progress a reality. No one can read his dedication prayer without feeling that the man who offered it stood in right relations with his God--that his aspirations were after righteousness of heart and life. He is himself a proof of the certain fact that a man can terribly deteriorate in character even after he has given evidence of a progression in the good and the right way.
+II. His portion.+ "He shall be filled with his own ways." Retribution will flow from both his past and present character. The remembrance of what he once was will embitter the present. To think of what _might have been_ is in itself a hell when a man feels that by his own act he is now far lower in the moral scale than he once was. How it must embitter the misery of the fallen angels to remember that they once stood sinless before God's throne, and, but for their own act, would stand there still. In one of the writings of Lucian, he represents the ghost of a man who has left the world coming up for judgment before the bar of Rhadamanthus. He had lived so depraved a live that his judge exclaims that a new punishment is needed that will be in some degree adequate to his unparalleled villany. A poor cobbler, standing by, suggests that it will be enough if the cup of Lethe, which was supposed to obliterate all remembrance of the past, and which each shade was permitted to drink as he passed from the dread tribunal, should, in this instance, be withheld. And the criminal was therefore condemned to remember for ever what he had done in life, and this was held to be retribution sufficient for the worst of crimes. And if this is true of every wicked man, surely to be filled with the remembrance of what he once was will be the bitterest cup that can be the portion of every backslider.
+III. The portion of the godly man.+ He, too, shall be filled with his own ways, but it will be the fulness of satisfaction. The foundation of real happiness is in character alone. The blessedness of the Eternal God comes from nothing outside of Himself. It has its foundation in His own perfect character. So nothing outside a man can yield him satisfaction. It must come from what he is--from his partaking of some degree of the character of the ever-blessed God. In proportion as he approaches that--in proportion as he brings forth the fruits of righteousness--will he be conscious of a well-spring of satisfaction which is quite independent of outward circumstances. This well-spring has the advantage of being always at hand. A man may often find himself shut out from external sources of joy, death may part him from those who have largely ministered to his happiness, but wherever he is--whether in this world or another--a "well of water" which is "within him" (John iv. 14) is always at hand. It is needless to remark that this well-spring does not originate with man, but is the outcome of relationship and communion with God.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
_Temporary_ backsliding may take place in the true children of God; but the "backslider" _here_ is evidently he who, in the language of the apostle, "goes back into perdition." Solomon alludes to such _perpetual_ backsliding on the part of those who thus prove themselves to have been no more than professors--"having the form of godliness, but denying the power thereof." Such characters, whatever appearances they present to the eye of men,--even of the people of God, with whom they associate, never were vitally and savingly one with Christ, and one with true believers in Him. This is as plainly affirmed as it is in the power of language to affirm it. _"They went out from us but they were not of us; for if they had been of us they would no doubt have continued with us; but they went out, that they might be made manifest that they were not all of us"_ (1 John ii. 19).--_Wardlaw._
Every spot is not the leprosy. Every mark of sin does not prove a backslider. "A man may be overtaken in a fault" (Gal. vi. 1); or it may be the sin of ignorance (Lev. iv. 2; Heb. v. 2) or sin abhorred, resisted, yet still cleaving (Rom. vii. 15-24). _Backsliding_ implies a _wilful_ step; not always open, but the more dangerous, because hidden. Here was no open apostasy, perhaps no tangible inconsistency. Nay, the man may be looked up to as an eminent saint, but he is a _backslider in heart.--Bridges._
The upright is satisfied from his own conscience, which though it be not the original spring, yet is the conduit at which he drinks peace, joy and encouragement.--_Flavel._
The wicked are travelling; and they seek an end; and they confidently expect it, but they never get it. What they do get, therefore is their journey. The old man has got about enough of travelling, but enough, if he be an impenitent man, of nothing else, in either world, whatever. The saint may have very little on the earth, but he has made more than his own journey. _"The backslider in heart."_ Not a Christian. A Christian never really backslides. Not, therefore, what our usage means, but a _heart sliding back,_ as every lost heart does. The writer has but written a fresh name for the impenitent. Such a sliding heart will just have its journey at last, and nothing for it.--_Miller._
What a world of sound theology lies in the deliverance of this verse--telling us much how the rewards and punishments of the Divine administration lie in the subjective state, apart from the objective circumstances.--_Chalmers._
Good men _know within themselves_ that they have in heaven a better and more enduring substance (Heb. x. 34); _within themselves,_ they know it not in others, not in books, but in their own experience and apprehension. They can feelingly say that "in doing God's will"--not only _for_ doing it, or _after_ it was now done, but even _while_ they were doing it--"there was great reward" (Psa. xix. 11). Righteousness is never without a double joy to be its strength: "Joy in hand and in hope, in present possession and in certain reversion" (Bernard).--_Trapp._
All engineering proceeds upon the principle of reaching great heights or depths by almost imperceptible inclines. The adversary of men works by this will. When you see a man who was once counted a Christian standing shameless on a mountain-top of impiety, or lying in the miry pit of vice, you may safely assume that he has long been worming his way in secret on the spiral slimy track by which the old serpent marks and smooths the way to death. . . . Whatever the enormity it may end in, backsliding begins in the heart. . . . There is a weighing beam exposed to public view, with one scale loaded and resting on the ground, while the other dangles high and empty in the air. Everybody is familiar with the object, and its aspect. One day curiosity is arrested by observing the low and loaded beam is swinging aloft, while the side which hung empty and light has sunk to the ground. Speculation is set on edge by the phenomenon, and at rest again by the discovery of its cause. For many days certain diminutive but busy insects had, for some object of their own, been transferring the material from the full to the empty scale. Day by day the sides approached an equilibrium, but no change took place in their position. At last a grain more removed from one side and laid in the other reversed the preponderance, and produced the change. There is a similar balancing of good and evil in the human heart. The sudden outward change proceeds from a gradual inward preparation.--_Arnot._
Every man, both good and bad, shall feel himself sufficiently recompensed for his service.--_Dod._
"A good man shall be satisfied from himself." +I. He can bear his own company, his own thoughts.+ What is it that makes solitude so irksome to mankind? They cannot bear reflection. . . . Generally, we know, all is not right. Men do not like to look steadily at themselves, because, like the bankrupt tradesman who dreads striking a balance, they have a secret suspicion that their lives will not bear a rigid scrutiny. . . . The good man does not fear to probe his wound to the bottom. +II. He is independent, as other men are not, of earthly vicissitudes.+ Men who have their portion here are never safe. The world is a disappointing world, but the good man's eyes are opened to the glories of a better. . . . It is a doomed world, but his treasure is safe. . . . Let other men be suddenly driven from the pleasures, occupations, and companions with which habit has made them familiar, and they are like shipwrecked voyagers whose wealth has all gone down in the vessel in which they sailed. He is like a man who has escaped to shore with a casket of jewels in which his whole fortune is invested. +III. He stands for judgment, not at the world's bar, but at the tribunal of his own conscience.+ "It is a small thing," said St. Paul, "that I should be judged of you, or of man's judgment." Was he, then, a morose man who cared nothing about his neighbours? No, but his conscience was ruled by God's law, and in the very act of submitting himself to Christ as the Lord of his life and soul, he became comparatively independent of all besides.--_J. H. Gurney._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.--Verses_ 15-18.
REVELATIONS OF CHARACTER.
+I. Four marks of a foolish man.+ When a piece of ground is left to itself--left in the hand of nature alone, without the intervention of the hand of man--there will be a variety in its productions, but there will be no wheat--no grain to give seed to the sower and bread to the eater. When human nature is left to itself there will of necessity be a variety in its productions, but, however unlike they may be in many respects, they are all alike in this, that they are equally unprofitable to God and injurious to man. We have here--1. _The man who believes too much in others._ "The simple believeth every word." It is possible to have too much faith. The blessedness of having it in abundance depends entirely upon the foundation upon which it rests--upon the object _in_ which a man trusts--in the person in whom he believes. Those who have faith in the words of men and women of worthless character--like the young man of chap. vii. 7--will find their ruin will be in proportion to the confidence. We stigmatise as a fool the man who shows his purse to any wayfarer whom he meets upon the high road; we know that his fellow-traveller may be only seeking a fitting time and place to rob him. In this world of fallen men and women we must withhold our faith until we have some knowledge. There are many now in the world whose foolish credulity has led to the other extreme of universal scepticism. From believing everybody and everything they have come to believe nothing, and to brand "all men" as "liars." He who begins by being a "simple one," and believeth every word, will most likely end in being a disbeliever and a scoffer. We are not required to believe in God without ground for our belief. He does not demand from us an unreasoning credulity, but an intelligent faith. 2. _The man who believes too much in himself._ He "rages," or is presumptuous, and is "confident." As the foolishness of the first man took the form of over-confidence in others, so this man shows his want of wisdom by undue confidence in himself. (On this character see Homiletics on chap. xii. 15, page 271.) 3. _The man who is easily offended._ Such a man reveals his folly by the insignificance of the matters which generally arouse his passion. The man who is "soon angry" is generally more angry about trifles than about things of importance. A parent who is easily vexed by his children's transgressions is generally more severe in punishing those that really least deserve punishment. Such a person does not take into account the amount of moral wrong done, but the amount of immediate and personal inconvenience which he suffers. For if a man is "soon angry" he has no time to put things in their right light--to weigh the offence in the balance of right and of reason. The man who is soon angry shows that his mind is not filled with high and noble aspirations; if it were, there would be no room for vexation at small offences. God is "slow to anger," because only things worthy of His notice can arouse it--because He is filled with high and holy purposes of good towards the human race. (See also on chap. xii. 16, page 272.) 4. _The man who, by wicked plots against his fellow-men, incurs their hatred._ This man possesses more mental activity than the others. But he uses it against himself, because he uses it against his fellow-men. "He is of wicked devices," and "is hated." A man cannot devise plans of evil any more than of good without mental labour. Probably Satan is the most active creature in the universe. He is ever "going to and fro in the earth, and walking up and down in it." And many of his human children imitate him in this respect. This man has not the simplicity of him who "believeth every word," nor of him who haughtily rejects the counsel of others, nor of him who allows his feelings to carry him away. He sets about his plans with cool deliberateness, but he is a fool for all that. He is a fool, because, as we have seen over and over again, his plans of wickedness will not only fail, but will overthrow himself (see chap. xii. 3, 5 and 7). But the special element of foolishness in the man of wicked devices which is here noted is that his way of life is sure to bring him the hatred of his fellow-creatures. No man can afford to set at nought the good-will of his fellow-men. To be an object of universal execration is only the lot of a man who lives to injure others, and it is a very poor investment of life to put it to a use which will only bring such interest.
+II. The marks of a wise man.+ 1. _He walks through life with caution._ To say that a man "looketh well to his going" is only saying that he acts like a rational and responsible creature. Even the animals, in obedience to the instinct of self-preservation, look to their goings, and avoid many dangers which beset them. The smaller birds, though apparently flying about without any care, have a quick eye for the hawk soaring above them, or for the cat crouching beneath. All creatures, whether brutes or men, instinctively look to their goings so far as regards their bodily life. The traveller on a dangerous road instinctively picks his way--does not set down his foot without looking to see where there is firm ground to tread upon. The man whose lot is cast in a city where a pestilence is raging naturally takes all possible precautions to avoid the infection. A mariner does his best to guide his vessel clear of rocks and quicksands. The prudent man extends this caution to every act of his life. As a merchant, he weighs probabilities before he embarks in any enterprise. He does not enter into speculations as men engage in a game of billiards. He considers the results of his actions in relation to others as well as to himself. Above all, he looks to his goings in relation to their morality; he frames his life, as we have before seen (chap. xiii. 14), according to the law of God within him in his conscience, and without him, in the revealed word. 2. _He walks thus cautiously because he recognises moral danger._ He _"fears."_ This makes all the difference in the lives of men. Some recognise the fact that they are in a world full of moral pit-falls and rocks which will be their ruin unless they take heed to their ways, and others do not. Some know the moral atmosphere is laden with moral pestilence, but others do not discern its impurity. The wise man "departs from evil" as he would involuntarily turn aside if he saw a deadly serpent lying in his path, or would parry a sword-thrust made at him by an adversary. His main business is, not to take care of his _life,_ but of his _character._
+III. The respective reward of the wise and foolish.+ The first are _crowned_ by an increase of knowledge, the second have an _inheritance;_ but it is only to be given over to their foolishness. The wise man's moral sense becomes more developed "by reason of use" it is more and more able "to discern good and evil" (Heb. v. 14). He is more and more removed from that simplicity which "believeth every word"--he can "try the spirits, whether they are of God" (1 John iv. 1), while the foolish man is more and more the dupe of his own credulity, or of his own self-conceit, and becomes more and more the slave of uncontrolled passion.
_ILLUSTRATION OF VERSE_ 17.
Socrates, meeting a gentleman of rank in the street, saluted him, but the gentleman took no notice of it. His friends, observing what passed, told the philosopher that they were so exasperated at the man's incivility that they had a good mind to resent it. But he calmly made answer, "If you meet any person in the road in a worse habit of body than yourself would you think you had reason to be enraged with him on that account. Pray, then, what greater reason can you have for being incensed at a man for a worse habit of mind than any of yourselves?"
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Verse 15. He who applies himself to wisdom takes heed of his own ways, foreseeing dangers, preparing remedies, employing the assistance of the good, guarding himself against the wicked, cautious in entering on a work, not unprepared for a retreat, watchful to seize opportunities, strenuous to remove impediments, and attending to many other things which concern the government of his own actions and proceedings. But the other kind of wisdom is entirely made up of deceits and cunning tricks, laying up all its hope in the circumventing of others, and moulding them to its pleasure, which kind verse 8 denounces as being not only dishonest, but also foolish.--_Lord Bacon._
"The simple believeth every word," whether true or false, useful or injurious. Charity, indeed, "believeth all things" (1 Cor. xiii. 7), but not things that are palpably _untrue._ It is the _truth_ which it readily believes. It believes all that it can with a good conscience to the credit of another, but not anything more. Epicharmus says, "The sinews and limbs of faith are not rashly to believe" (Acts xvii. 11). "The prudent man looketh well to his going"--whether it tends to grace and salvation, or to sin and perdition; he "believeth not every word"--as, for instance, the flattering words of seducers, who commend to him false doctrine or licentious practice (Eph. v. 15).--_Fausset._
We may apply the verse in all its emphasis of meaning to _eternal concerns._ The simple hear different persons on the subject of religion, and take for granted that all they hear is right. They are easily bewildered by sophistical arguments; led away by appeals to feeling; swayed and mastered by false eloquence; seduced by flattery. They are the sport of all that is novel--"tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine." On the contrary, when interests so vast are at stake the prudent man will feel his way, taking nothing upon trust. He first bends his earnest thought to the question of the Divine authority of the Bible--a question next in importance to that of the being of God; and having ascertained its authority, to learn its lessons. Having the map he will examine for himself the way to heaven. Having a Divine directory, he will trust no human guide.--_Wardlaw._
History is full of examples of men who have lost their lives by means of their credulity, amongst whom were those great men, Abner and Amasa. . . . Some have been betrayed into the worst of sins, by believing groundless reports of others, as Saul in the case of David, and we might also add, David himself in the case of Mephibosheth. The nation of the Jews was threatened with desolation by the easy temper of Ahasuerus, who believed without examination the malicious suggestions of the wicked Haman. . . . The whole world was ruined by the simplicity of Eve, and the easy credit she gave the serpent.--_Lawson._
To _believe every word_ of God is _faith._ To _believe every word_ of man is _credulity._ Admit only the one standard; like the noble Bereans, who would not believe even an apostle's word, except it was confirmed by the written testimony (Acts xvii. 11).--_Bridges._
We are not willing to be blindfolded at our meat, nor to eat our supper without a light, especially in strange places, where we neither know well the fidelity of our host, nor what dishes are set before us, and shall we be more provident for the outward man, than for the inward? Shall we keep out of our bodies such food as is not wholesome and savoury, and receive into our souls such food as will poison us? . . . No wrong is thus done to any man. We used to tell silver and weigh gold, and yet we prejudge not them at whose hands we receive them.--_Dod._
Trust is a lovely thing, but it cannot stand unless it get truth to lean on. . . . It is a well-known characteristic of the little child to believe implicitly whatever you tell him. . . . It remains a feature of the child until it is worn off by hard experience of the world. . . . In this world a man is obliged to be suspicious. Man suffers more from man than from the elements of nature or the beasts of the field. A time is coming when this species of prudence will be no longer needed. When the people shall be all righteous, there will be no deception on one side, and no distrust on the other.--_Arnot._
A prudent man looks forward to the consequences of things, and
## particularly to the consequences of his own conduct. O, how much
misery and mischief might be avoided or prevented by attending only to this single principle, for what are most of the calamities we see in the world owing to but this--that men will not look before them? To the want of this wise foresight Moses attributed all the rebellions and enormities of the Jewish people, and therefore breathed forth this ardent prayer on their behalf, "Oh, that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end" (Deut. xxxii. 29).--_Mason._
Verse 16. The "evil" from which the "wise man departeth" may mean either _suffering_ or _sin._ Both may with propriety be included, the one being the cause of the other.--_Wardlaw._
_Fear_ is sometimes thought to be an unmanly principle. But look at the terrible extent of _the evil_ dreaded. Without it is vanity and disappointment (Rom. vi. 21). Within it is the sting of guilt (1 Cor. xv. 56). Upward we see the frown of God (John iii. 36). Downward everlasting burnings (Mark ix. 44). . . . The _fool,_ however, never _fears_ till he falls. . . . Such a _fool_ was the _raging_ Assyrian, blindly _confident_ in his own might, till the God whom he despised turned him back to his destruction (2 Kings xix. 28-37).--_Bridges._
He (the good man) can never _trust in himself,_ though he is satisfied _from himself_ (verse 14). He knows that his sufficiency is of God; and the _fear_ that causes him to _depart from evil_ is a guardian to the _love_ he feels. Love renders him cautious; the other makes him feel confident. His _caution_ leads him _from sin,_ his _confidence_ leads him _to God._--_A. Clarke._
They which are in greatest safety are farthest from carnal security. The godly have not so many sins as the wicked, and yet they feel them more, and fear them more, and flee from them faster. And the wicked have not more valour than the godly nor so much freedom from punishment, and yet go beyond them in audacity and fleshly confidence. When David was dealt with by Nathan, he confessed his fault, he craved pardon, he set his heart to seek help from heaven against his sin; but when Ahab was spoken to by Macaiah, he persecuted the prophet, he proceeded in his purpose, he promised himself a safe return. Josiah, hearing the law of the Lord read by Shaphan, rent his clothes in grief and fear, but Jehoiakim hearing the words of God read by Baruch, in regard of the curses therein denounced, did tear the book and burn it in wrath and fury.--_Dod._
A wise man knows that the enemy is strong, and that his own defences are feeble. His policy therefore is, not to brave danger, but to keep out of harm's way. He seeks safety in flight. The fool's character is mainly made up of two features; he thinks little of danger and much of himself. He stumbles on both sides alike. That which is strong he despises, and that which is weak he trusts. The dangers that beset him are great, but he counts them as nothing; the strength that is in him is as nothing, but he counts it great. Thus he is on all hands out of his reckoning, and stumbles at every step.--_Arnot._
As a foolish fear is a betrayer of the strength of man, so a wise fear is the safety of him. Wherefore Cyprian saith, the Divine wisdom hath found out an excellent policy that by the help of fear we should be delivered. Great is the benefit of God's providence, that sometimes fear is made both a virtue and a victory. A wise man departeth from evil before he cometh to it, for then the parting, as most easily, so is most happily made.--_Jermin._
_Fear a religious principle._ The beginning of religion in the heart is a subject of curious inquiry and of great practical importance. There is no sufficient reason for supposing that it is in all men alike, we have no rule for saying that religion must either necessarily, or that it does usually proceed from the same cause. Different men are affected by different motives; and what sinks deep into the heart of one, makes little impression upon another. . . . Thus it is, that religion sometimes, not seldom indeed, has a _violent_ origin in the soul, and begins in terror: "A wise man _feareth_ and departeth from evil."--_Paley._
Verse 17. Some pettish spirits are like fine glasses, broken as soon as touched, and all on fire upon every slight and trifling occasion; when meek and grave spirits are like flints that do not send out a spark but after violent and great collision; _feeble_ minds have a _habit_ of wrath, and, like broken bones, are apt to roar with the least touch: it argues a very unsanctified spirit to be so soon moved. Let it be like the fire of thorns, quickly extinct.--_Salter._
As small letters hurt the sight, so do small matters him that is too much intent upon them; they vex and stir up anger, which begets an evil habit in him in reference to greater affairs.--_Plutarch._
A man who falls into a passion does indeed commit a folly, but yet is far preferable to the coldly and selfishly calculating villain.--_Von Gerlach._
"A man of wicked devices," one, who when offended, represses the indications of his anger, all the while meditating revenge, and waiting for the opportunity when he can wreak it. As "he that is soon angry dealeth foolishly" as regards himself, so he that wickedly deviseth revenge, while deferring the expression of his anger, bringeth on him the "hatred" of others. Thus there is danger on both sides, in hastiness, and in deferring anger through malice. The latter is the worst offence.--_Fausset._
The more hot-pulsed sinner may be lost; but the _deep-set_ fool excels him both in guilt and danger. Alas! for the well-complexioned, coolly-settled, morally-esteemed, and long-established hypocritical professor. It is not all thinking that this book applauds, but that which is discriminate, the watching of our feet.--_Miller._
Though religion alloweth to be angry, yet it forbiddeth to be _soon angry,_ because he that is soon angry is as soon dealing foolishly. The haste of his choler maketh him to outrun his understanding, and the smoke of his anger putteth out the light of his judgment.--_Jermin._
To be angry is to revenge the faults of others upon ourselves.--_Pope._
As fine gold doth suffer itself to be tried in the fire six or seven times, and yet the heat of the fire doth never change its nature or colour; or as good corn is first threshed with the flail, and then winnowed with the wind, and yet is neither broken with the one nor carried away with the other; even so we should suffer ourselves to be tried by injuries, and yet not by impatience, through anger, change our nature, nor yet our colour, nor be carried away with any inconvenience.--_Cawdray._
Verse 18. This proverb is especially instructive with respect to the deep inner connection that exists on the one hand between foolish notions, and a poor, unattractive, powerless earthly position, destitute of all influence,--and on the other hand between true wisdom and large ability in the department both of the material and the spiritual. Von Gerlach pointedly says, "There is a certain power of attraction, according as a man is wise or foolish; the possessions also which the one or the other attains are in accordance with his disposition."--_Lange's Commentary._
The child of Adam is born to folly (Job xi. 12). That is his _inheritance._ He received it from his first father (Gen. v. 3; Psa. li. 5). So long as he remains _simple,_ he confirms the title. Unlike an earthly _inheritance,_ he cannot relinquish it. He holds it in life, he still holds it firm in death, and reaps its bitter fruits throughout eternity.--_Bridges._
The prudent has not inherited much at this present date. He has not much of the world. He has not much of another. How shall we express his excellence? He has this poor thing that he calls piety. Where is its worth to him? Why, its worth to him is that it is a splendid _"crown." He makes a crown of knowledge._ That is, he takes his piety, which is a mean, weak beginning, and makes it the badge of a glorious sovereignty. The Christian is a king. And by this is meant, that, when he becomes pious, everything becomes subject to him (1 Cor. iii. 22).--_Miller._
The world says that none dies without an heir: Religion says that none dies without an inheritance. Everyone dying in this world is heir to himself in the next world.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 19.
A LEVELLING LAW.
+I. This law is now manifest to the inner life of the wicked.+ If a wicked man has any sense of right and wrong, he is conscious of the superiority of the good man. There is an inward bowing down of the evil to the good which is as real, although invisible, as any outward bending of the person of one man before another. Indeed it is far more real than much outward homage. There are many outward and visible bendings and bowings which are mere matters of form, which are only made to keep up appearances. But the involuntary bowing of the evil man's soul in the presence of the good man is a real act of homage, although there is in it an element of unwillingness. There is a compulsory consent, so to speak, of the man himself against himself. But this genuflexion of soul is no mere pretence.
+II. The good man is also conscious of it.+ He knows that it is so because in the constitution of the universe good is made to rule evil, because the head of the one kingdom--the kingdom of evil--is compelled to acknowledge the authority of the head of the kingdom of good. His own moral consciousness tells him that it must be so, and he has the declaration of God to confirm it. _"No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper, and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of Me, saith the Lord"_ (Isa. liv. 17).
+III. What has been occasionally manifested in the outward life, and what is always the inner experience, will one day be universally visible to all the universe.+ The revelation of God tells us that there will be a universally visible manifestation of the submission of the evil to the good. And our sense of justice demands that it should be so. A day will come when, at the name of Incarnate Goodness, "every knee shall bow" (Phil. ii. 10), and the servants will have a portion of like reverence. "The sons also of them that afflicted Thee shall come bending unto Thee; and all they that despised Thee shall bow themselves down at the soles of Thy feet" (Isa. lx. 14).--See also Rev. xx. 4. It is also revealed to us _when_ this visible manifestation shall take place. _"In the end of this world,"_ at the close of the present dispensation, _"the Son of Man shall send forth His angels, and they shall gather out of His kingdom all things that offend, and them which do iniquity. . . . Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father"_ (Matt. xiii. 40-43). "For this manifestation of the sons of God" they wait with "earnest expectation;" "creation groans" for it; Christ Himself awaits it at "the right hand of God" (Heb. x. 12, 13; Rom. viii. 19-22).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
At one time or another, in one respect or other, the ungodly serve and crouch to the godly. Sometimes they that fear the Lord are lifted up to honour, and then the evil men bow themselves before them. Sometimes, again, the righteous wax rich through God's blessing on their labours, and then come the wicked to their gates for alms and relief. Not only the poor ones, but the great ones, who yet are wicked ones, seek and sue now and then with all submission to the godly for their counsel and help. And I cannot tell how, but such a majesty there is in the godly oftentimes, that most desperately wicked men reverence their faces, and are silent or courteous in their presence.--_Muffet._
There is not the general rule in the present dispensation. Righteous Lazarus _bowed at the rich man's gate_ (Luke xvi. 20). . . . But "the upright shall have dominion over the wicked in the morning" (Psa. xlix. 14; Mal. iv. 1-3). "The saints shall judge the world" (1 Cor. vi. 2).--_Bridges._
There have been instances in which this proverb was verified in a very remarkable manner. The Egyptians bowed down before Joseph, and Moses, and the Israelites. The proud king of Babylon almost worshipped the captive Daniel, and Elisha's favour was solicited by three kings, one or two of whom were bad men.--_Lawson._
The wicked serve the righteous; and whether they do it knowingly, they do it wholly, and through eternal ages.--_Miller._
In times of worldly prosperity, and while the wicked flourish, there is none more lifted up in pride and bravery of outward shows than they are; there is none, then, less esteemed, and more despised, than the good and righteous are. They shall give long attendance before the gates give way to them, and when they are entered a proud eye shall mightily overlook them, a scornful language shall throw them down at their feet. Wherefore Augustine calleth riches wings, by which men in pride fly not only above others, but themselves also. But if the time alter, and either some storm of common calamity beat upon them, or else the hand of God privately seize on them, then none are more dejected than the wicked, none then more esteemed than the righteous are by them. Then their ways are to the gates of the righteous, and much bowing there is to entreat their prayers unto God, and to obtain help and comfort from them. Then Dives, but fearing hell only, already sees Lazarus in heaven, and fain would come unto him.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 20 _and_ 21.
AN AGGRAVATED CRIME, A QUESTIONABLE VIRTUE, AND A PRESENT BLESSING.
+I. A fourfold sin.+ A man who despises or hates his neighbour sins--1. _In the simple exercise of the feeling._ Hatred, or even the act of despising another, is in itself a sin. Here we must distinguish between hatred of the _person_ and hatred of his _practices_--between despising _a man himself_ and despising his _actions._ God Himself hates and abhors evil character, but He makes a distinction between a man's character and the man. To hate or to despise any human creature is devilish. 2. _By hating or despising him for his poverty._ Poverty is a calamity often--always a burden and a cross. It is that for which a man should be pitied, and on account of which he should receive the sympathy of his fellow-men. Poverty is a burden heavy enough in itself, to add to it in any way is diabolical. 3. _Because he hates and despises his fellow-sufferer._ It is not a man beneath him, of whose trials he is ignorant, but his _neighbour,_ one with whom he is on a level. The proverb speaks of one poor man hating another. Cases are not uncommon in which men who have risen from poverty to wealth hate and despise the class from which they have risen even more than those do who were born to rank and wealth. And sometimes men who have risen are hated by those whom they have left behind in the race. But for a poor man to dislike and to despise another poor man for his poverty, is a most unnatural and aggravated crime. A common calamity generally makes men feel a kinship for each other. Those who partake of a common lot generally feel a common sympathy. The poor do not generally hate and despise the poor. The poor man who does commit this sin against his neighbour commits a double sin against himself, for he knows himself the trials of his poor brother, and, therefore, does not sin through ignorance or inconsiderateness. 4. _Against God._ God "putteth down one, and setteth up another" (Psalm lxxv. 7). It is His ordination that "the poor shall never cease out of the land" (Deut. xv. 11). They are His especial care (Psalm xii. 5, etc.), and He will count any addition to their burden as a wrong to Himself.
+II. A questionable virtue.+ "The rich hath many friends." Friendship with a rich man may spring from _social equality._ There is a natural tendency in men who are equals in anything to form friendships with each other. Men of the same moral standing do so, men of the same intellectual attainments are attracted to each other, and men who are equals in social rank and in wealth are, by the force of circumstances, often thrown into each other's society, and so a friendship which is real _may_ be formed. But it is a more questionable bond than that which unites men in the two first-mentioned cases. It may be only a counterfeit of the genuine article, and it is nothing more if wealth is the only bond. Friendships formed upon similarity of intellectual and moral wealth have a far firmer foundation, because they rest upon what is inseparable from the man himself, while friendship founded upon riches has for its foundation what may at any time take to itself wings and fly away. Or the friendship may be one of _social inequality._ A poor man may attach himself to a wealthy man. This, too, _may_ be genuine. The friendship _may_ be built upon something which both value more than wealth; but if the friendship of the rich with the rich is regarded with doubt, and requires adversity to test it, much more does the friendship of the poor for the rich. The proof of the genuineness of the metal is the fire, the proof of the seaworthiness of the vessel is the storm, and it is an universally recognised truth that the proof of friendship is power to come uninjured through the fire and storm of adverse circumstances.
+III. A present blessedness.+ "He that hath mercy on the poor, happy is he." 1. Happy because "it is more blessed to give than to receive" (Acts xx. 35), because gladness always comes to the heart when an effort has been made to lighten another's burden. 2. Happy in possessing the gratitude and confidence of his poor brother. 3. Happy because he wins the favour of God. (See on verse 31.)
_ILLUSTRATION OF VERSE_ 20.
The bees were haunting the flowering trees in crowds, humming among the branches, and gathering honey in the flowers. Said Gotthold, "Here is an image of temporal prosperity. So long as there is blossom on the trees, and honey in the blossom, the bees will frequent them in crowds, and fill the place with their music; but when the blossom is over, and the honey gone, they too will disappear." Temporal gain is the world's honey, and the allurement with which you may entice it whithersoever you will; but where the gain terminates, there likewise do the love and friendship of the world stop.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Verse 20. Alas! it is a mystery of knowledge to discern friends: "Wealth maketh many friends" (chap. xix. 4); they are friends to the wealth, not to the wealthy. They regard not _qualis sis,_ but _quantas,_ not how good thou art, but how great. They admire thee to thy face, but inwardly consider thee only a necessary evil, yea, a necessary devil. . . . Worldly friends are like hot water, that when cold weather comes, are soonest frozen. Like cuckoos all summer they will sing to thee, but they are gone in July at furthest; sure enough before the fall. They flatter a rich man, as we feed beasts, and then feed on him.--_T. Adams._
How former friendship between two persons may be transformed into its opposite on account of the impoverishment of one of them, is impressively illustrated by our Lord's parable of the neighbour who a friend asks for three loaves (Luke xi. 5-8).--_Lange's Commentary._
The same word in the original which signifieth a friend signifieth a neighbour also, because a neighbour should be a friend. But though a rich man has friends far and near, a poor man is hated even of his neighbour. He that best knoweth his wants and should most of all pity them, doth least regard him and use him worst. He that is nearest at hand to help him is farthest off from helping him. Wherefore the neighbourhood of men being so bad, God becometh his neighbour, and as it is in the Psalms (cix. 31). _"He standeth at the right hand of the poor man to save him."--Jermin._
Verse 21. The impenitent is the _poorest_ among men; and he who neglects him, and lets him go on in his iniquity, of course, is a cruel sinner. "They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that lead many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever." He who despises his neighbour "sins," literally "misses," "blunders." He wastes a splendid opportunity, not only for his neighbour, but for himself. The appeal is to _self,_ and is made more intense where, instead of _"despising"_ our neighbour, we actually "devise evil" against him (See next verse).--_Miller._
1. _There is a sin against the arrangements of God's providence._ 2. _Against the frequent and express commands of His Word_ (Deut. xv. 7-11; Luke xii. 33; xiv. 12-14). 3. _Against the manifestations of His distinguishing love._ God has not only avowed Himself jealous for the poor, but "to the poor the gospel is preached," and of those who become the subjects of God's grace, and heirs of glory, a large proportion belong to this class. 4. _In the contempt of God's threatened vengeance against all who neglect them, and of His promised special favour to all who treat them with kindness.--Wardlaw._
We show our contempt of the poor, not only by trampling upon them, but by overlooking them, or by withholding that help for which their distress loudly calls. The Levite and the priest that declined giving assistance to the wounded traveller on the way to Jericho, were notorious breakers of the law of love in the judgment of our Lord. The Samaritan was the only one that performed the duty of a neighbour.--_Lawson._
Through the gate of beneficence doth the charitable man enter into the city of peace. . . . God makes some rich, to help the poor; and suffers some poor to try the rich. The loaden would be glad of ease: now charity lighteneth the rich man of his superfluous and wieldy carriage. When the poor find mercy they will be tractable; when the rich find quiet, they should be charitable. Would you have your goods kept in peace? First, lock them up by your prayers, then open them again with your thankful use, and trust them in the hands of Christ by your charity.--_T. Adams._
He that hath mercy on the poor maketh the other's misery to be his own happiness, and as the other is comforted by it, so is he blessed by it. Blessed he is by the poor and his prayers for him, blessed he is by God and His favours upon him. Tabitha had reached out her hand to give unto the poor, and Peter reached out his hand in delivering her from death. She had bestowed clothing on the poor, and life is bestowed upon her. Wherefore the exhortation of Chrysostom is, "those things which God hath given us, let us give Him again, that so with advantage they may be again made ours."--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 22.
A FATAL ERROR AND A CERTAIN GOOD.
+I. The mistake of devisers of evil.+ 1. _They err in relation to the success of their plans._ They think that their wicked devices will succeed, so they would not go to the labour and trouble of devising them. But they make a fatal mistake, because they ignore another plan, which embraces theirs. They forget that there may be a circle of action outside their circle, which may circumvent all their schemes. A man may look at the sea from the lower deck of a vessel and think he can see all that is to be seen. But his thinking so would only prove him to be a fool. The man at the masthead can see much further. A traveller on a plain may have an extensive view, but he who is on the mountaintop takes in all that he can see, and much besides. So it is with the man who devises evil. He can see a little way before him and around him, he thinks, therefore, that he can take in the whole situation at a glance, and can see what is needful for him to do and what can be accomplished to bring his plans to pass. But there is more beyond; God takes a higher position and has a wider outlook. He takes in not only all that the wicked man has seen, but much that he does not see. _"He taketh the wise in their own craftiness; and the counsel of the froward is carried headlong"_ (Job v. 13). The device of Haman was so well planned that it seemed to him certain of success. But Mordecai's God had a plan which embraced and out-flanked that of the murderer. The device of Joseph's brethren seemed to embrace all that was necessary to accomplish his ruin, but it was utilised by the righteous Ruler of the Universe to bring to pass his exaltation. The device of evil against the Divine Son of God is the most palpable instance that the universe has ever seen of the short-sighted error of wicked men. 2. _He errs because he will meet with retribution in his own person._ Human rulers are sometimes involved in much perplexity because, although they know that plots are being woven against their government, they are not only at a loss to find a plan by which to bring home the crime to the conspirators, but feel they have no force strong enough to punish them if they are convicted. But God is never at a loss either for means to defeat the purposes of those that devise evil, or to punish them for their devices. He is never driven, by want of power, to yield to those who oppose the good--who work iniquity. (See Homiletics on chap. xii. 12-14, page 268.)
+II. The reward of devisers of good.+ "Mercy and truth." 1. _Even a deviser of good needs mercy._ The very act of devising good sometimes brings a man to need mercy of his _fellow-man._ Daniel devised nothing but good to the king of Babylon, but his very uprightness made him an object of envy and brought him into a condition to need mercy. Or a deviser of good may err in judgment. The best intentioned man is liable to make mistakes. No human being, however benevolent his life, can claim to be exempt from moral infirmities which will sometimes mislead him. Every man therefore needs that his fellow creatures should mingle charity with their judgment of him and with their conduct towards him. And he always needs mercy from _God._ No saint of ancient or modern times has ever been beyond the need of God's mercy, although their very name implies that they are devisers of good. 2. _He equally needs truth._ He needs to be able to depend upon the _word_ of another, he needs a certainty of being justly dealt with. A man's success in business largely depends upon his being able to rest upon the fair dealing of others. He wants truth in others to meet his own truthfulness--as he strives to deal justly, and to love mercy, so he desires to be dealt with justly as well as mercifully. 3. _Both these needs shall be met. Sometimes_ by men, _always_ by God. Experience and history furnish us with many exceptions to the first. Those men of God who have been most eminent devisers of good have often met with anything but mercy and truth from those whom they have desired to benefit. Ignorance or envy has risen up against them, and so the missionary has been slain by the club of the savage abroad, and the reformer has been made the mark of slanderous tongues at home. But everyone has found the testimony of the inspired Word to be true in his own experience: _With the merciful Thou wilt show Thyself merciful. With an upright man Thou wilt show Thyself upright_ (Psa. xviii. 25).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
If wicked men employ their thoughts to contrive mischief, and show so much diligence in the service of sin, although they have such a miserable reward, let God's people exercise the same diligence in the service of righteousness, by seeking out and seizing opportunities of doing good, and their labour shall not be in vain in the Lord.--_Lawson._
Scripture traces actions to principles. Wicked as it is to _do evil,_ it is far more hateful to _devise it_ (see verse 17). _Devising evil,_ therefore, if it comes not to the act, shows the purpose (chap. xxiv. 8).--_Bridges._
To him who lays himself out in planning and executing designs of benefit to others, there shall be _"mercy and truth."_ From his fellow-men he shall experience universal love and esteem. He shall find sympathy in his distresses and reverses, faithfulness in dealing (for if anything will secure a man from being cheated and defrauded, it will be a character for disinterested kindness), and the general exercise of practical gratitude. And the Lord will make him to experience His love, and will fulfil to him faithfully all His "precious promises."--_Wardlaw._
Solomon here is no lawgiver, but an evangelist, leading us unto Jesus Christ. For we can obtain no mercy but in Him only. For "the promises of God are yea and amen in Him."--_Cope._
Can any one see any flaw in _"Mercy"_ and _"Truth?"_ _Mercy_ is pure benevolence; and _truth_ is that other quality of the good, which is commanded in the first table of the law, and answers to a love of holiness. Is there anything right, outside of _"Mercy and Truth?"_ Is there anything wrong that the vilest rebel can detect in either one of them? Must "they not err that devise evil," if for no other cause than that _"Mercy and Truth"_ stand on the opposite side, and, through eternal ages, are busy in _devising good?--Miller._
Aristotle relateth of Socrates that he affirmed all virtues to be sciences, all sins to be ignorances. And Aquinas saith of it, that therein he judged in some sort rightly because the will never would incline to evil, unless it were with some ignorance and error of reason. The question, therefore, is not here asked of him that deviseth evil, for he thinketh himself to be right, he doth not think that to be evil which he doth, nor himself to err in doing of it. He attaineth to the end at which he aimeth, and that persuadeth him that he aimeth aright. But so to be in the right way, is quite to wander from the right way; and howsoever such an one may not err in his plans and plots, yet doubtless he erreth from the ways of life.--_Jermin._
Mercy and truth were the best that David could wish for his fast friend Ittai (2 Sam. xv. 20). These two attributes of God shall cause that good devices shall not miscarry. His mercy moves Him to promise, His truth binds Him to perform. "For Thy word's sake, and according to Thine own heart Thou hast done all these things" (2 Sam. vii. 18-21). "According to Thine own heart," that is out of pure and unexcited love, Thou didst give Thy Word and promise, and "for Thy Word's sake," Thou hast performed it.--_Trapp._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 23.
THE PROFIT OF LABOUR.
1. _The profit of social honour._ It is both natural and right that a man should desire the respect and good-will of those around him. Nothing is more certain than that he who lives without working in some form or another, either for himself or for others, will not receive this reward. Those who are poor, and do nothing, sink into beggary and consequent dishonour; those who are rich, and have nothing to do--or rather, who do nothing--are not held in honour, either in life or after death. "Pray, sir, of what disease did your brother die?" said the Marquis Spinola one day to Sir Horace Vere. "He died, sir," was the answer, "of having nothing to do." "Alas!" said Spinola, "that is enough to kill any general of us all." Honour cannot come from idleness, but labour brings not only honour while living, but gives us a title to be regarded with respect after we have left the world. Of no man who has lived to any purpose can it ever be said that _he died of having nothing to do._ 2. _The profit of bodily health._ A body which does not labour, either with brain or hand, is an easy prey to disease. The brain if used becomes strengthened for further use. The whole bodily frame is kept in health by wholesome work. 3. _Profit to the moral nature._ Labour calls for some form of self-sacrifice. It develops habits of painstaking and diligence which are helpful to a man's moral nature. It helps the spiritual part of the man by helping the bodily, inasmuch as a strong and healthy body is the best instrument for a morally healthy soul. 4. _The profit of material gain._ In all free countries a man gets some wages for work. It may not be a fair remuneration, but there is some profit of this kind attached to it. There are, of course, exceptions to this proverb, as for instance, the labour of the man who devises evil in the former verse, or that of those whose poverty compels them to work, even to the injury of soul and body, for a miserable pittance which is not worthy the name of wages. Such, alas, is the lot of many even in our own country. The antithesis of this proverb, simply states that talk will not do instead of work. When men do nothing but talk, their talk is certain to be of that worthless kind condemned in