xvi. 3), that have not goodness in them, no, not common honesty; they

do not as they would be done by, which very heathens condemned.--_Trapp._

Surely he that weighs in a false balance is himself weighed by God in a balance of justice, and for the gain he gets he getteth to himself from the Lord His just abomination; not only His dislike or condemnation of it, but the _abomination_ because it is a theft cloaked with the colour of justice, even the exact justice of weighing. But a just balance is such a delight unto God as that He delighteth, as it were, to be a seller in that shop, and that He maketh others to delight to come and buy at it. Surely such a "perfect stone" (see Hebrew) is a perfect jewel, and a precious stone in the sight of God. But in a spiritual sense there is no such false balance as when man weigheth heavier than God, earth heavier than heaven, the pleasures of sin heavier than the crown of glory, a momentary contentment heavier than eternal blessedness. And justly are such false balances an abomination to the Lord. But that is a just weight whereby the light vanity of worldly things is rightly perceived, the levity of earthly greatness is truly discerned, the weightiness of God's promises is duly considered, the heaviness of God's threatenings is carefully apprehended. Such a weight is God's delight, doth overbalance all whatsoever the world delighteth in.--_Jermin._

That which is hurtful to our brother is hateful to God, and therefore can never be helpful to us. If He judge it unrighteous we shall find it unprofitable: if it be damnable in His sight, and therefore His soul doth hate it, it will at last be in our sense, and our souls shall rue it. Here is consolation to them that do constantly and conscionably addict themselves to the practice of equity. None hath truly learned this but such as have been apprentices to heaven, whom the Lord hath informed in the mysteries of that trade.--_Dod._

Weight and balance are judicial institutions of the Lord, and every weight is His work. But marriage compacts, also political confederacies, civil compacts, judgments, penalties, etc., are ordinances of Divine wisdom and justice, and are effectively superintended by God.--_Melanchthon._

This is repeated with varied language three times (xvi. 11; xx. 10, 23). The tendency of all commentators is to treat it as descriptive of _men._ It seems conspicuously to be asserted of the Almighty. Sentences like chap. x. 29 make the doctrine a very timely one, that God is in His very essence just; that He takes no liberties of an arbitrary nature; that He is the administrator, not at all of fate, for this is blind and unreasoning, but of eternal rectitude; that we need give ourselves no care of our government, for that He has no temptation to do us wrong, because "false balances" are an abomination to Jehovah. "_Delight_" is rather a strong version. It only means that the Almighty has the eternal _desire_ to be absolutely just. Omniscience, _omnipotence,_ and this _desire_ must make an immaculate administration. God will not, by a false balance, become an abomination to Himself.--_Miller._

Commerce is a providential appointment for our social intercourse and mutual helpfulness. It is grounded with men upon human faith, as with God upon Divine faith. Balance, weights, money are its necessary materials. Impositions, double dealings, the hard bargain struck with self-complacent shrewdness (chap. xx. 14)--this is the false balance forbidden alike of the law and of the Gospel (Matt. vii. 12; Phil. iv. 8).--_Bridges._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 2.

PRIDE AND HUMILITY.

+I. Pride comes to the human spirit.+ "When pride _cometh._" There are certain weeds that come at certain seasons of the year without being sent for or desired. They tarry not for the will of man, but appear in the most well-kept gardens and in the most carefully tilled field. The only will that the proprietor has in the matter is whether they shall be allowed to stay. If they stay, they will assuredly spread and increase in strength. Self-sown plants are the first to spring up in the ground, and will be the last to disappear. Nothing will kill them but uprooting and consuming the entire plant by fire. So pride will spring up in the human heart. The seeds are there, and the soul is congenial to their germination and growth. According to the highest authority on the subject, pride is its natural outgrowth. "For from within, out of the heart of man proceed evil thoughts . . . pride" etc. (Mark vii. 21, 22). The question for every man to settle when pride comes up in the blade, is whether it shall be allowed to go on to the full ear--whether the feeling shall be allowed to remain until it is manifested in action, or whether the fire of the Holy Ghost shall be called in to consume the very root. "Pride," says Adams, "is like the heart, the first thing that lives and the last thing that dies in us."

+II. When pride is permitted to remain, shame will follow.+ 1. _Because it tends to ingratitude._ If a man permits a wrong estimate of himself to grow up and strengthen within him, growing daily in a sense of his own importance and his own deserts, he will soon be ungrateful to men for their acts of goodwill, and to God for the position in which He has placed him in the world. Ingratitude is a high road to shame before God and before men, because it prevents men from taking advantage of present opportunities. 2. _Because it keeps men ignorant._ There is a shame arising from ignorance, when men have had no opportunities of acquiring knowledge. But pride leads men to refuse instruction when it is offered to them, and thus it leads to wilful ignorance, which, being _wilful,_ is doubly _shameful._ 3. _Because it makes men useless._ If a man has received many gifts from the Divine hand and yet lacks that spiritual-mindedness and humility which is the salt to season them and make them acceptable to the hearts and consciences of mankind, he will be to them like a fountain of beautiful and polished marble without any water, and will only vex the thirsty traveller by reflecting the rays of light from the basin which he hoped to find filled with water. He is a cloud without water, lovely to the eye, but not refreshing to the thirsty land. And men will turn from and despise _gifts_ without _graces,_ especially the grace of humility.

+III. Lowly men are wise men, and are in the way of becoming wiser.+ 1. _This we know from the Divine promise._ "I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit" (Isa. lvii. 15). From the nature of things, those who are alike in character will seek to dwell together. The good and the bad each go "to their own company" in this world, and must do so in every world. There is no pride in the Divine character: "He humbleth Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and in the earth" (Psa. cxiii. 6). Because He can rightly estimate everything and every person, pride cannot dwell with Him. Therefore He dwells with those who are like Himself, and the man with whom God dwells, and who is "taught of the Lord" (Isa. liv. 13), must be ever increasing in wisdom. 2. _This we know from experience._ The wisest men in the world, the men who are most able to teach others, are those who have been willing first to stoop to learn: those who have been willing to their own ignorance and need, and so have been willing to sit at the feet of those who knew more than they did. Wise men are always lowly in estimating their present acquirements, whether of intellect or character, and this keeps them in the way of ever becoming wiser.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Trite as the words now are, the appearance in many languages of the same maxim points to the delight with which men have in all ages welcomed this statement of a fact of general experience, in which they saw also a proof of a Divine government. A Rabbinic paraphrase of the latter clause is worth quoting: "Lowly souls become full of wisdom as the low place becomes full of water."--_Plumptre._

Where pride is in the saddle, shame is on the crupper. He is a "proud fool" saith our English proverb. But "God gives grace to the humble" (Jas. iv. 6); that is, as some sense it, good repute and report among men. Who am I? saith Moses; and yet who fitter than he to go to Pharaoh? He refused to be called Pharaoh's daughter's son; he was afterwards called to be Pharaoh's god. (Exod. vii. 1.)--_Trapp._

When Nebuchadnezzar was bragging of his Babel which he had built for his glory, he was banished from all habitation, not having so much as a cottage, and like a beast made to lie among the beasts of the field, with ignominy. When Haman thought to ride on horseback and to be baited on like a king, he was driven to lackey on foot, and to wait attendance like a page, and purposing to hang Mordecai on high to honour himself, he prepared a high gallows to be hanged on himself. When Herod thought himself good enough to take on him the state and honour of a god, the Lord declared him to be bad enough to be devoured of contemptible vermin. . . . Whereas the humble are always in the way of preferment, either to come to honour in a great place, or for honour to come to them in a mean place.--_Dod._

It is the prayer of David, _Let not the foot of pride come against me, or unto me:_ for pride and shame ride in one chariot, they come both together; he that entertaineth the one, must entertain the other. And howbeit pride set open her bravery, and shame awhile be masked, yet shame at length shall open itself, and pride shall not be seen. For how can shame choose but be joined with pride, which, says St. Ambrose, knows not how to stand, and when it is fallen, is ignorant how to rise. On the other side, although lowliness goes on foot, yet wisdom is her companion, which not only preserveth the lowly from shame, but highly advanceth them in the esteem of God and man. And indeed what greater wisdom is there than humility, which, says St. Ambrose again, by desiring nothing, obtaineth all that is despised by it.--_Jermin._

The folly and wickedness of pride--1. _Of station._ "Man will not long abide in honour, seeing he may be compared to the beast that perisheth" (Psa. xlix. 12). In the sight of God, the greatest and proudest of men are but dust and ashes. 2. _Of birth._ Even an ancient heathen could see its absurdity and say, "As to family and ancestors, and what we have not done ourselves, can scarcely be called ours." We certainly had no hand in producing these distinctions. 3. _Of riches._ They cannot give dignity of character, superiority of intellect, vigour of body, peace of conscience, or any one of those advantages which form the chief blessings of life. 4. _Of talent or learning._ A disease, an accident, may overset the mind, and turn all our light into utter darkness, and even should our abilities and learning continue with us till the end of our days here below, they must then vanish and be extinguished. It was the consciousness of their uncertain and transient endurance, as well as their imperfection, that made the wise Agur say, "Surely I am more brutish than any man, and have not the understanding of a man;" and which drew from Solomon the confession, "In much wisdom there is much grief; and he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow" (Eccles. i. 18). 4. _Of beauty._ "All flesh is grass, and the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field." 5. _Of spiritual pride._ Of all description of guilt this appears to be the most odious to God and unbecoming to man, and as such is denounced throughout the Scriptures. Everlasting shame is made the portion of every one "that exalteth himself."--_Warner._

Gabriel is the prince. He is solely from the Spirit. It is because God gave him the Spirit that he remained in grace; and it was because God took the Spirit that Satan fell into apostasy. _Pride,_ therefore, is a mad vanity. If "false balances" are an abomination to God, He would not be apt to let "pride" flourish. And yet pride does flourish in worldly things. The "shame" here must mean that spiritual contempt which looks to the whole eternity. It is only (1) out of contempt for him that God lets a man be proud; and it is only (2) contempt and shame that can follow upon the proud thought. Pride itself is an evidence of God's contempt. And being "humble" not only (1) invites "Wisdom," and makes her feel at home; not only (2) flows from Wisdom because she is at home, but (3) actually "_is_ Wisdom." It would not do to say, Has humility entered? There also enters Wisdom; for humility _is_ wisdom, and could not exist unless Wisdom had entered already.--_Miller._

Perhaps the reference in the words before us may especially be to the influence of pride in our intercourse with men. In this view of them they are verified in different ways. For example--the manifestation of pride,--of supercilious loftiness and self-sufficiency--strongly tempts others to spy out defects, and to bring down the haughty man from his imaginary elevation. Everyone takes a pleasure in plucking at him, and leaving the laurel-wreath which he has twined for his own brow as bare of leaves as possible; and thus to cover him with "shame." Another way in which it tends to "shame" is, that it leads him who is the subject of it to undertake, in the plenitude of his confident self-sufficiency, to fill stations for which he is incompetent; by which means he, ere long, exposes himself to the derision or the pity of his fellows. He shortly finds himself in the position of those described in our Lord's parable, who "choose for themselves the highest seats," but in the end, abashed and crest-fallen, "begin with shame to take the lowest rooms." That parable (Luke xiv. 7-11) is a graphic commentary on the words before us.--_Wardlaw._

Pride was the principle of the fall (Gen. iii. 5), and, therefore, the native principle of fallen man (Mark vii. 22). When pride had stripped us of our honour, then--not till then--_cometh shame_ (Gen. iii. 7, with ii. 25). This is the wise discipline of our God to scourge the one by the other. . . . What a splendour of wisdom shone in the lowly child "sitting at the doctors' feet, astonishing them at His understanding and His answers" (Luke ii. 47). And will not this Spirit be to us the path of Wisdom? For the Divine Teacher "reveals to the babes what He hides from the wise and prudent."--_Bridges._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 3.

THE INFALLIBLE GUIDE.

+I. The upright man is in danger.+ To say that a man needs a guide is to say that he is exposed to some kind of danger--that the path which he has to tread is one in which it is possible to sustain loss of some kind. A man does not need a guide when he is walking in a road where he knows every step of the way, where his path lies straight before him, beset with no danger. An upright man hath much to lose. He can lose much in losing _one_ thing, he can, indeed, lose _all_ in one thing, his all for time and eternity, viz., his _moral character._ If his uprightness of character sustains any loss, if any stain is permitted to fall upon _that,_ it will only regain its erectness and purity at the cost of much pain and time. What was gained with difficulty at first will be harder to regain. It is up-hill work to redeem a lost character, and if it is not redeemed, existence is cast away and the man is said to be _lost. And the very fact that a man is godly places him in danger._ The thief is never found measuring the height of the wall or testing the security of the locks of the house where poverty reigns. He does not haunt such a dwelling, and reckon up the opposition he would be likely to meet with _there._ Such a house has no attraction for him, and is safe from all danger so far as he is concerned, because there is no silver or gold there. But the house filled with plate and jewels is the one around which he paces with stealthy steps, and whose means of defence and unguarded doors or windows he takes note of. Such a house draws him towards it as the magnet draws the needle. So the godless man has little or no attraction for the enemy of souls. The very poverty of his moral nature renders him an unattractive object to the great thief of character. But an upright man he considers a foeman worthy of his steel, and the rich graces that dwell within the heart of such a one have a magnetic power for him who was "a murderer from the beginning" (John viii. 44), and for all his emissaries and agents, whether they be devils or men.

+II. The infallible guide for the godly or upright man: Integrity.+ What is integrity? Dr. Bushnell says: "As an integer is a whole, in distinction from a fraction, which is only a part, so a man of integrity is a man whose aim in the right is a whole aim, in distinction from one whose aim is divided, partial, or unstable. It does not mean that he has never been a sinner, or that he is not one now, but simply that the intent of his soul is to do and to be wholly right with God and man." Old Simeon was such a man. It is said of him that he was _just,_ that is, he was single in his purpose in relation to man, and that he was _devout,_ which expresses his _wholeness_ of his aim in relation to God. Paul was such a man. "What shall I do, Lord?"--"This one thing I do" was the key note of his life. (Acts xxii. 10; Phil. iii. 13.) 1. _This guide is one whose voice is not easily mistaken._ If a man sets his own interest before him as the guide of his life, he is very likely to be mistaken as to what his own interest really is even so far as regards the present life. We are so short-sighted as to be unable to foretell what may be the issue of any act of life in relation to our own personal and present well-being looked at from a material point of view. If we are more unselfish and adopt the famous principle of "the good of the greatest number," we involve ourselves in a still greater perplexity. This problem is one which can be solved by God alone. But every man whose conscience is not wholly depraved can determine as to the right and wrong of his actions, and thus possesses a clue to guide him step by step through every intricate path of life. Darkness of soul and circumstances may at times surround him, but here is a pole-star which will shine through the gloom. "In the darkest hour through which a human soul can pass," says Robertson, of Brighton, speaking of the doubts and perplexities to which the most sincere men are often the most liable, "whatever else is doubtful this is certain, that it is better to be generous than selfish, better to be chaste than licentious, better to be true than false, better to be brave than a coward. Blessed beyond all earthly blessedness is the man who, in the tempestuous darkness of the soul, had dared to hold fast to these venerable landmarks. Thrice blessed is he, who, when all is drear and cheerless within and without, has obstinately clung to moral good. Thrice blessed because his night shall pass into bright, clear day." Thus "the integrity of the upright shall guide them." This virtue is a guide as recognisable as sunlight. The eye of every man, in every nation, recognises the sun as the light which is the guide of his life; and integrity, honesty, and _complete dealing_ between man and man is recognisable by every man whose conscience is not wholly blinded by long-continued persistence in wickedness (see Luke xii. 57). 2. _It shall guide a man to happiness._ We have seen that happiness or self-interest cannot be the guide of life, either in relation to the one man or to the many. The happiness of one man, in this narrow and low sense of the word, may mean misery to another; but right-doing is the high road to the happiness of the individual, and the promoter of the happiness of all to whom he is related. Though happiness is not the aim of the upright man, yea, _because_ it is _not_ the aim of his life, he will be guided into it. The man who does right simply because it is right, and without hope of reward, will have a reward. Integrity must lead to the happiness of the upright man. The approbation of conscience is a large element of blessed happiness, and the certainty that right-doing can wrong none of his fellow-creatures, but may add much to their well-being, is another element in the reward. There is also happiness in the possession of a single aim, an undivided purpose in life. The concentration of all a man's powers to one point increases his power to accomplish the task to which he has set himself. He is like a man steering for the harbour, with his eye upon the compass and his hand upon the wheel; he is conscious of a power to carry out his purpose, and the certainty of success is in itself a reward. 3. _It must guide a man to heaven._ All the "rendering unto God the things that are God's"--loyal obedience to His conditions of salvation, and then, as a necessary result, rendering unto their fellow-men that which is their due.

ILLUSTRATION OF THE SECOND CLAUSE OF VERSE_ 3.

"The perverseness of transgressors shall destroy them." _A Grecian legend._--An old diver was wont to boast of his skill to bring up treasures from the sea. To test his power the people threw many a golden coin and silver cup into deep water, all of which he brought to the surface with triumph. But one day a disguised fiend threw a tinsel crown into a whirlpool, and challenged the confident diver to bring it up, promising him, if he succeeded, the power to wear it, and to transmit it to his children. Down he sprung after the bauble, but the Nereids of the sea, hearing the clangour of the crown when it fell upon their grottos, closed around him as he was grasping his prize and held him fast till he perished. The most daring may dare once too often; folly, though long successful, will plunge its victim into ruin at last.--_Biblical Treasury._

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

All obliquity and trick in the intercourse of men is a libel on Providence. Every recourse to falsehood is a direct distrust of God. Truth is both the shortest and the surest road in every difficulty. How much labour is lost by adopting tortuous paths? A great part of life's labour consists in following a crooked course, and then trying to make it appear a straight one. The crooked line is far more difficult at the first, and the defence of it afterwards doubles the labour.--_Arnot._

"I will walk in mine integrity," was David's staff, and in doing anything there is no such guide to do it well as the integrity of the heart. Knowledge is requisite, and is a good director: counsel may be needful, and is a good conductor; but the master pilot is the sincerity of the heart. If that be wanting the others will not be following, if that be present the others will not be wanting.--_Jermin._

Everyone that is truly godly hath a faithful guide and an upright counsellor in his own breast. A sound heart is the stern of the soul, and a good conscience is the pilot to govern it.--_Dod._

A man, to be led, must have a way; and, to have a way, he must have an end at which he is aiming. The end of the "upright" man is righteousness itself. If the great joy of heaven is uprightness, and the price of wisdom is above rubies, of course "integrity" is the best guide in the world, because of course righteousness is the best guide to righteousness; and, poor or rich, the righteous man is always advancing in his treasure. Righteousness is also the best guide to happiness, for no good thing shall be withholden from them that walk uprightly. Sin, on the other hand, by increasing itself, is itself its own seducer.--_Miller._

Sincerity is one eminent branch of the good man's character. Nathaniel was a man without guile. We accordingly find that, though prejudiced against Jesus of Nazareth, his sincerity appeared in the means which he employed to arrive at a knowledge of the truth, and he was led by it in the right way. Christ's enemies were men of perverse spirits. They crucified Him with a view to maintain their honour and preserve their nation; but by their perverse conduct both were destroyed.--_Lawson._

Every man who comes into a state of _right intent,_ will forthwith also be a Christian. Whoever is willing to be carried just where it will carry him, cost him what it may, in that man the spirit of all sin is broken, and his mind is in a state to lay hold of Christ and to be laid hold of by Him. . . . "For the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to show Himself strong in the behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward Him" (2 Chron. xvi. 9). God is on the lookout always for an honest man--him to help, and with him, and for him, to be strong. And if there be one, God will not miss him; for His desiring, all-searching eyes are running the world through always to find him.--_Bushnell._

I. The guidance of integrity is the _safest_ under which we can be placed. Perfect immunity from danger is not to be expected in this life. But let us inquire who the persons are that, in all the different lines of life, have gone through the world with most success, and we shall find that the men of probity and honour form by far the most considerable part of the list; that men of plain understanding, acting upon fair and direct views, have much oftener prospered than men of the deepest policy, who were devoid of principle. II. It is unquestionably the most _honourable._ Other qualities may add splendour to character; but if this essential requisite be wanting, all its lustre fades. He who rests upon an internal principle of virtue and honour, will act with a dignity and boldness of which they are incapable who are wholly guided by interest. He is above those timid, suspicious, and cautious restraints which fetter and embarrass their conduct. III. This plan of conduct is the most _comfortable._ Amidst the various and perplexing events of life, it is of singular advantage to be kept free from doubt as to the part most proper to be chosen. The man of principle is a stranger to those inward troubles which beset men who consult nothing but worldly interest. His time is not lost, nor his temper fretted, by long and anxious consultations. One light always shines upon him from above. One path always opens clear and distinct upon his view. He is also delivered from all inward upbraidings, from all alarms founded on the dread of discovery and disgrace. The man of virtue has _committed his way to the Lord._ He co-operates with the Divine purpose. The power which sways the universe is engaged on his side. By natural consequence, he has ground to expect that any seeming disappointments which he may now incur shall be over-ruled in the end to some salutary result. IV. He has always in view the prospect of _immortal rewards._ That surely is the wisest direction of conduct, which is most amply recompensed at last.--_Blair._

For Homiletics of verse 4 see chapter x. 2. The thought of the first clause of verses 5 and 6 is the same as that treated in verse 3.

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE LATTER CLAUSES OF VERSES_ 5 _and_ 6.

MADE OR MARRED BY DESIRES.

The word translated "naughtiness" should be rendered "lust" or "desires." (See Critical Notes.)

+I. Sin is compliance with desires that do not harmonise with moral righteousness.+ A traveller on a lonely and dangerous road may have two guides offered to him by the opposite promptings of his own mind. He may have a strong desire to explore a path which looks most pleasant and attractive but which he knows does not lead to his destination, and is beset with many perils although its aspect is inviting. On the other hand, his good sense tells him it is unwise to run the risk of injury by thus turning aside from the road that he knows leads to the goal which he desires to reach, although the path may be rough and toilsome. If he yields to his first desire and pursues the dangerous path until it is too late to retrace his steps, he may lose his life by a false step over a precipice and so be destroyed by his own desires. All men are under the dominion of desires, and if their desires after God and righteousness have the rule they will be guided by them into the ways of deliverance and safety, as we saw in considering verse 3. But if they yield themselves up to the guidance of desires which run counter to the law of God and right, as they are made known both by conscience and revelation, they sink lower and lower in the scale of moral being and become slaves when they might have been free men. "Whosoever committeth sin is the servant of sin." "Know ye not, that to whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to whom ye obey; whether of sin unto death, or of obedience unto righteousness" (John vii. 34; Rom. vi. 16).

+II. The sinner is the forger of his own fetters.+ If a man labours in his field, his garden, or his vineyard, in harmony with the known laws which God has ordained to be observed, he may reasonably expect a good crop--an abundant harvest. But if he sets at naught these laws--if he yields to desires of self-indulgence--or in any other way acts contrary to the conditions which are indispensable to success--he has no one to blame but himself if he find himself a beggar when he might have had plenty. The law of God's moral universe is written in revelation, upon conscience, in the history of men, that "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap," that "The wages of sin is death" (Gal. vi. 7; Rom. vi. 23). If men are "taken," are first enslaved by sin and then suffer the penalty of sinning, they have themselves digged the pit of their own destruction--have forged the chains by which they are bound.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Verse 4. How badly led those are who are not righteous, appears in this: that while _righteousness_ does everything for a man in journeying to his end, _wealth_ does nothing for him. "Wealth," which seems to be the great guide of the human family, not only cannot _deliver,_ but cannot _profit_ in the crisis of fate. While "_righteousness,_" all covered with stains, lets no day go to waste; lets no mile be utterly lost; lets no fear ever be realised; still grapples a man's hand; and still guides a man's tread, till he steps at last into the regions of safety.--_Miller._

It were no bad comparison to liken mere rich men to camels and mules; for they often pursue their devious way, over hills and mountains, laden with India purple, with gems, aromas, and generous wines upon their backs, attended, too, by a long line of servants as a safeguard on their way. Soon, however, they come to their evening halting-place, and forthwith their precious burdens are taken from their backs; and they, now wearied, and stripped of their lading and their retinue of slaves, show nothing but livid marks of stripes. So, also, those who glitter in gold and purple raiment, when the evening of life comes rushing on them, have nought to show but marks and wounds of sin impressed upon them by the evil use of riches.--_St. Augustine._

Riches will not even obtain "a drop of water to cool the tormented tongue" (Luke xvi. 19-24). In vain will "the rich men of the earth" seek a shelter "from the wrath of the Lamb" (Rev. vi. 15-17).--_Bridges._

While the words are true in their highest sense of the great _dies iræ_ of the future, they speak, in the first instance, as do the like words in Zeph. i. 15-18, of _any_ "day of the Lord," any time of judgment, when men or nations receive the chastisement of their sins.--_Plumptre._

"Wherefore should I die, being so rich?" said that wretched Cardinal, Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, in Henry VI.'s time. "Fie," quoth he, "will not death be lured? Will money do nothing?"--_Trapp._

If righteousness delivereth not from the day, yet it delivereth from the wrath of the day: if it deliver not from death, yet it delivereth from the death of the wicked.--_Jermin._

Verse 5. "The righteousness of the man of integrity," is perfect only in heaven, and how it "_directs_" or "_levels_" his way appears best by the perfect facility of walking in that bright abode. It will be no trouble there to travel forward. While more work will be done in heaven than here, yet there it is done so easily that it is called a "Rest." The paths of this world are not only difficult, but deadly. "_The wicked_" will not only struggle, but "_fall_" in them; and the roughnesses at which he stumbles are not ever in the paths themselves, but really his "_own wickedness._"--_Miller._

_Greedy desire_ (see Critical Notes) will strongly tempt men to sin, and so they will be ensnared.--_Stuart._

The first part of this text may be taken--I. As declaring _a fact_. A real Christian takes, for direction in his way, the rule of righteousness. The question that he continually puts to himself is--"What ought I to do?" This is the character of a believer in the abstract; and though none may lay claim to perfection, yet none can be justly called believers, unless their lives in the main answer to this description. II. As propounding a _promise_. It is nowhere promised that the righteous shall not come into trouble, but the strait road goes _through_ them. The other statement of the text may also be regarded--I. As an _assertion_ proved by experience. The drunkard ruins his health and shortens his life by excesses. The spendthrift brings himself to beggary. The contentious man brings himself to mischief. They often dig a pit for others and fall into it themselves. II. As a _threat._ It does not always happen that men are visited for their sins in this life. Still it may be said to every ungodly man, "Be sure your sin will find you out."--_B. W. Dibdin._

Verse 6. Godliness hath many troubles, and as many helps against trouble. As Moses' hand, it turns the serpent into a rod; and as the tree that Moses cast into the waters of Marah, it sweeteneth the bitter waters of affliction. Well may it be called the Divine nature, for as God doth bring light out of darkness, so doth grace.--_Trapp._

There need no blocks to be laid in the way of the wicked, no enemies need to thrust him down, for his own _wickedness_ being his way, by _that_ he shall fall. . . . Wickedness is fastened, by the devil, like a cord about the wicked; by that he pulls them after him: by that he makes them fall, first into shame and misery here, and into hell when they are gone hence.--_Jermin._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 7.

THE DEATH OF THE WICKED.

+I. An inevitable event in relation to a wicked man.+ "When a wicked man dieth." He must die. "It is appointed unto men,"--to the good and to the bad--"once to die" (Heb. ix. 27). 1. This inevitable event is most undesired by the wicked man. The certainty of any coming event will make it to be dreaded in proportion as it is felt that its advent must be followed by unpleasant consequences. The man who knows that on a certain day of reckoning he will be unable to meet his liabilities, and that the day will as surely arrive as the planets will hold on their way in the heavens, can only look forward to the future with the most gloomy apprehensions. That coming day is ever hanging over his present, and imparting a sting to every hour in which he allows his thoughts to dwell upon it. The certainty of death is a most painful subject of contemplation for a wicked man. Conscience tells him that he has no resources wherewith to meet the demands of that day--he knows that he is unfit to face that most ruthless of all creditors, and the knowledge that nothing can turn aside his footsteps is often a bitter drop in the cup of his present apparent prosperity and security. 2. The wicked man takes refuge from the thought of the _certainty_ of the _event_ in the _uncertainty_ of the _time_ when it will take place. He indulges in "hopes," and "expectations," concerning the present life, because of the indefiniteness of its length. Although he knows that death must come one day, he hopes that it may be many years hence. The rich fool in our Lord's parable knew that he must die some day--he admitted that certainty. But he made the uncertainty of the time an excuse for taking present ease. He refused to take into account the possibility that the summons had gone forth: "This night thy soul shall be required of thee." 3. The certainty of the death of the wicked is a most painful subject of thought to good men. They look at the present condition of the ungodly, and, knowing the indispensable and intimate connection between present character and future happiness or misery, the certainty of the death of the wicked man is often a more saddening thought to them than to the man himself. The contemplation of such an event must give pain to the soul in harmony with God and goodness. 4. Yet, looked at with regard to his relation with others, the certainty of the death of the wicked is most desirable. If one portion of the body has become so diseased that the whole body is likely to suffer from it, a severance between the diseased part and the sound body must take place, however painful the operation may be. The loss of the part is indispensable to the salvation of the rest. There have been, and there are, men who are so morally diseased that their removal from the world is to be desired for the sake of others. It must be regarded as a blessing for the world that the death of the wicked is certain. The death of one wicked man is sometimes the means of bringing peace to many to whom his existence was a curse. There are men who do the best thing for the world when they leave it--their exit from it is the greatest benefit they have ever conferred upon it.

+II. The wicked man is in his worst condition when he has the most need of being in his best.+ It is at _death_ that his expectation and hope perish. The time when we approach a crisis in our history is a time when we need to be most furnished with all the resources that will be demanded to meet it. It was more necessary that David should be filled with faith and courage when he went forth to meet Goliath than when he was keeping his sheep in his father's fields. When a youthful candidate for academical honour comes to the day of his examination, he needs to concentrate all his past days of study into one focus. If on that day all his mental powers are not at their very best, he is likely to be overwhelmed with disappointment instead of to be crowned with honour. It is sad indeed to be dragged down by fear and despair at the moment when we need all the inspiration of confidence and hope to bear us up. The day of death is the great crisis to which all human life is tending--it is the day when a man needs every possible support to enable him to meet the solemn fact with which he stands face to face. Hope of a blessed immortality should then bear us up. We ought to be able to say, "I know in whom I have believed;" "I am now ready to be offered and the time of my departure is at hand" (2 Tim. iv. 6). But this is the hour when a wicked man's hope takes wing and flies away. He is at his worst when he needs to be at his best.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Men derive almost the whole of their happiness from hope. The wicked man laughs at the righteous because he lives by hope; but the wicked man himself does the same with this difference, that whilst the hopes of the one are coeval with eternity, those of the other are bounded by time. The present situation of the wicked man never yields him the pleasure which he wishes and expects . . . if his hope is deferred, his heart is sick; if it is accomplished, he is still unsatisfied; but he comforts himself with some other hope, like a child who sees a rainbow on the top of a neighbouring hill, and runs to take hold of it, but sees it as far removed from him as before. Thus the life of a wicked man is spent in vain wishes, and toils, and hopes till death kills at once his body, his hope, and his happiness.--_Lawson._

It is sad to be drawn into ruin by "desire" (see last verse); because it breeds only "hope," and that is sure to perish. "The world passes away, and the desire of it" (1 John ii. 17).--_Miller._

There have been some who have questioned whether the doctrine of a future state was understood under the former dispensation. They have regarded that economy as to such an extent carnal, worldly, and temporary, as to have excluded from it all reference to that subject. I might show, from many passages, the falsity of such a sentiment. In this verse we have _one_ of them. Nothing can be clearer than that, were there not such a future state, the expectation and hope of righteous and wicked alike must perish together, and that the very distinction so evidently made here between the one and the other proceeds upon the assumption of a state beyond the present.--_Wardlaw._

He died, perhaps, in strong hopes of heaven, as those seem to have done that came rapping and bouncing at heaven's gates, with "Lord, Lord, open to us," but were sent away with a "Depart, I know you not" (Matt. vii. 22). His most strong hope shall come to nothing. He made a bridge of his own shadow and thought to go over it, but is fallen into the brook. He thought he had taken hold of God; but it is but with him as with a child that catcheth at the shadow on the wall, which he things he holds fast. But he only _thinks_ so.--_Trapp._

He never had any good by any hope, which hath not the fruition of his hope at death. Though a man should never obtain his desire in any earthly thing during his life, yet, if he enjoy salvation after this life, he hath failed of nothing. Though a man should miss of nothing that his heart could wish for, while breath is in his body, yet if he be damned, when the soul goeth out of his body, he hath never gained anything.--_Dod._

Hope and expectation are long-lived things; though weak, and sick, and blind, yet they hold out. They live with the longest liver, and seldom die in any, until they die themselves in whom they are. But the hope of the wicked doth not only die, but _perish_, that is, is lost in some unlooked-for, unthought-of manner.--_Jermin._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 8.

THE WICKED COMING IN THE STEAD OF THE RIGHTEOUS.

+I. This proverb must be fulfilled from the nature of the case.+ If a vessel is being steered straight for the rocks nothing can prevent her from being dashed upon them except a change of course. Nothing else can avert the catastrophe, unless a supernatural power removes the rock out of the way. This last cannot be; the first alternative rests with the will of the commander. If another vessel is going in an opposite direction she must as necessarily escape the doom to which the other is hastening. There is nothing of fate about their different destinies, they are the outcome of a choice of opposite courses. So with the opposite ends of the righteous and the wicked. Deliverance for the first, an inheritance of trouble for the latter, are the result of no arbitrary fate but the outcome of their pursuing opposite courses. Unless God will remove His everlasting laws out of the universe it must be so, and to expect Him to do that is to expect Him to change His nature, which would be a much more dire calamity than the trouble which comes upon the wicked from his course of wilful opposition to righteousness. For in this life it is always open to a man to turn round, to change his course, and so to escape the shipwreck of his existence upon the rocks of perdition. "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon" (Isa. lv. 7). God will not remove His righteous laws out of the sinner's way, but He holds out every inducement and encouragement to the transgressor to come into harmony with them.

+II. The proverb has received abundant illustrations in the history of our race.+ Pharaoh designed to drive the Israelitish nation into the Red Sea and so to destroy them. God delivered them, and their oppressors "came in their stead." Daniel's persecutors planned to take his life, "the righteous man was delivered out of trouble," and his wicked slanderers met with the death to which they had hoped to bring him. Instances might be multiplied in which this truth has been illustrated both in Scripture history and in more modern times.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

It is a "righteous thing" with God (2 Thess. i. 6, 7), though to men it seems an incredible paradox, and a news far more wonderful than acceptable, that there should be such a transmutation of conditions on both sides, to contraries.--_Trapp._

Though the afflictions of good men seem sharp and grievous, yet they are not perpetual. Before ever God bring His into troubles, He appointeth how they shall be preserved in them, and pass through them, and get out of them. He doth as well see their arrival, as their launching forth, and the end of the boisterous storms which they must endure as well as the beginning and entrance thereof.--_Dod._

In this world trouble is a common place, as the world is, both to the righteous and the wicked, and it beseems them both. The one has his proper and due place, the other has his place of honour. For, as St. Basil saith, He that saith that tribulation doth not beseem a righteous man, saith nothing else but that an adversary doth not beseem a valiant champion. Sometimes God Himself doth put the righteous into trouble, and then as the place belongeth to them, so St. Chrysostom tells us, God doth it rather by the trouble to bring us to Himself. Sometimes the injustice or malice of men doth thrust them into it, and then, God delivering them, puts the wicked in their place. For this world is full of misplacings, the wicked being seated where the godly should be, the godly seated where the wicked should be. God Almighty is pleased sometimes to put things in order, and, showing mercy to the righteous, doth give the wicked their due place.--_Jermin._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 9.

THE JUST MAN DELIVERED FROM THE MOUTH OF THE HYPOCRITE.

+I. We have here+--1. _A character most difficult to maintain._ The actor cannot always be playing his part, he must have times when his own individuality asserts itself--when he appears the man he really is. The man most in love with the dramatic art finds a few hours' practice at a time enough for him, and feels it a relief to throw off his stage character and be himself again. He cannot, if he would, be ever trying to live in an experience that does not belong to him--be ever assuming an individuality which is not his own property. It would be an intolerable burden to be always endeavouring to sustain a part. A hypocrite has set himself a hard task. He has undertaken to pretend to be living a life which he knows does not belong to him, and which he never can possess unless his whole nature is regenerated. Now to keep up the deportment and to use the language that belongs to a true nature must be as difficult as for a professional actor always to be playing the part of a king. The hypocrite must sometimes feel that his life is a sort of treadmill, and must sometimes be overcome by his real self in spite of all efforts to prevent nature from asserting her rights. No hypocrite can be always in his stage dress. The character is difficult to sustain. 2. _A character most injurious to mankind and most miserable for the man who owns it._ The actor plays his part by assuming the character of another man, but he does this without necessarily injuring himself or any of his fellow-creatures. But it is not so with the hypocrite. If a bad man assumes the garb of a good man he tends to lessen the estimation of real goodness in the minds of men. The existence of false coin makes us suspicious of genuine gold. The hypocrite must be conscious that he is a _living lie,_ and so a living curse to his fellow-creatures, and this consciousness can but make him miserable. 3. _A character in danger of becoming irreclaimable._ A man who tries to pass for a scholar when he is utterly ignorant is the most difficult person to change into a scholar. The man who desires to be always first among his fellows is the least likely to become a qualified leader of men. We have it on the best authority that whatever such a man may desire, that "whosoever will be chief shall be a servant" (Matt. xx. 27). He is only fit for a low position who is ever straining every nerve after a high one. The hypocrite is ever desiring to pass for what he is not--he is ever desiring to fill a place for which he is utterly unfit. He is less likely than the most openly vicious man ever to become in reality that which he is ever seeming to be. This was the judgment of the Son of God concerning the hypocrites of His day: "Verily I say unto you that the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you" (Matt. xxi. 31). 4. _A character most hateful to God and to man._ A hypocrite must be disliked by those whose character he endeavours to personify. The good must hate hypocrisy because, as we said before, it lessens the power of goodness in the world by making men suspect the really good. A hypocrite is hated by other hypocrites. If a man wants to utter false coin himself, he prefers to enjoy a monopoly of the business. The more of it there is in circulation the less likely people are to be deceived by it. A hypocrite is hateful to God. No sin is so denounced under both the old and new dispensations as the sin of hypocrisy. "Incense is an _abomination unto Me;_ the new moons and the calling of assemblies, _I cannot away with it._ . . . Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth" (Isaiah i. 13, 14). The God of Israel reserves these burning words for His own people, who were drawing near to Him with their lips, while their hearts were far from Him. The most terrible denunciations of the Son of God were uttered against those who were guilty of this sin. "Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites," is repeated again and again in one discourse (Matt. xxiii).

+II. The chief instrument used by the hypocrite. "The mouth."+ The power of speech is a most precious gift of God, and is intended by Him to be an instrument of blessing to the human race. It is the most precious instrument of good that the hypocrite is here represented as turning into an all-devouring weapon of destruction. He is like a man who gives potent poison for healing medicine. He may have disguised its deadly nature under an unknown and high-sounding name, but this will not lessen its deadly effects. The hypocrite is the man who above all others is skilful in making words the means of concealing thoughts--who speaks so plausibly that men believe they are drinking a healthful draught when they are imbibing a deadly poison. The tongue of the hypocrite destroys his neighbour because he makes him believe that he has his welfare at heart when he is really plotting his destruction. He makes him believe that some utterly worthless commercial speculation is sound and profitable, and so involves him in material destruction. Or he persuades him that a certain course of dishonest conduct is without moral danger, and so brings him into spiritual destruction. His neighbour's destruction is certain in proportion to the strength of his confidence in the words of the hypocrite.

+III. The means of deliverance from the hypocrite's mouth.+ "Through knowledge shall the just be delivered." The just man possesses a knowledge of God, and thus has a correct standard of character by which to judge men. If a man walks in the light of the sun he will be able to avoid pitfalls and open graves. A just man has an acquaintance with the character and the laws of God. He "walks in the light" (1 John i. 7). And this gives him an insight into character--this furnishes him with a test to "try the spirits whether they are of God" (1 John iv. 1). The more men come into contact with reality the more quick will they be to detect unreality. The more men know God the more correct will be the estimate they form of their fellow-men. The Spirit of wisdom is a Spirit of "enlightenment" on this point as on all others (Eph. i. 18). The scripture which is the "inspiration of God" "furnishes the man of God" with a means of escape from the snare of the hypocrite's mouth (2 Tim. iii. 16). The knowledge which is derived from its study is a foil for the attacks of the most subtle seducer.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Haman, under the pretence of loyalty, would have _destroyed_ a whole nation (Esther iii. 8, 13). Ziba, under the same false cover, would have _destroyed his neighbour_ (2 Sam. xvi. 1, 4). The lying prophet, from mere wilfulness, ruined his brother (1 Kings xiii).

Then look at the hypocrite in the church--"a ravening wolf in sheep's clothing," devouring the flock (Matt. vii. 15); "making merchandise with feigned words" (2 Pet. ii. 1, 3); an "apostle of Satan," so diligent is he in his master's work of destruction (2 Cor. xi. 3, 13). "These false Christs," we are warned, "deceive many," if it _were possible the very elect_ (Matt. xxiv. 24). . . . Learn the value of solid knowledge. Feeling, excitement, imagination, expose us to an unsteady profession. (Such as Eph. iv. 14.) _Knowledge_ supplies principle and steadfast. "Add to your faith _knowledge_" (2 Pet. i. 5).--_Bridges._

Hypocrites are awful stumbling blocks. Full many has the detection of their true character hardened in sin and worldliness, and established in infidelity. Full many have they thus destroyed.--_Wardlaw._

When God converts a soul, He gives it light. That light makes it invulnerable. All things afterward help it. "Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt." Satan is one of the blessings of a Christian.--_Miller._

It was an ordinary prayer of King Antigonus, "Deliver me from the hands of my friends." When asked why he did not rather pray for preservation from his enemies, he answered, "That he guarded against his enemies, but could not guard against false friends."--_Lawson._

_How to detect a hypocrite._ To make a man a good man all parts of goodness must concur, but any one way of wickedness is sufficient to denominate a bad man.--_Tillotson._

A hypocrite is hated of the world for seeming to be a Christian, and hated of God for not being one.--_Mason._

The meaning of the verse as a whole is, "By the protective power of that knowledge that serves righteousness, they are delivered who were endangered by the artifices of that shrewdness which is the instrument of wickedness."--_Elster._

The just man is too wise to be flattered, and too knowing to be plucked away with the error of the wicked (1 Pet. iii. 17, 18).--_Trapp._

Beware of carrying deadly weapons. An untrue man is a moral murderer, his mouth the lethal weapon, and his neighbour the victim.--_Arnot._

"Neither man nor angels can discern Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks Invisible, except to God alone, By His permissive will, thro' heaven and earth; And oft though Wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps At Wisdom's gate, and to simplicity Resigns her charge, while goodness Thinks no ill Where no ill seems."--_Paradise Lost._ Book iii.

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 10 _and_ 11.

THE REWARD OF THE RIGHTEOUS CITIZEN OR RULER. THE FATE OF THE UNRIGHTEOUS ONE.

+I. The words imply that it does not always go with the righteous.+ "_When_ it goeth well," etc. A good man's plans and efforts for the good of his fellow-citizens or fellow-countrymen are not always successful. They may need more resources to make them effectual than he has at his command. The men whom he desired to benefit may not themselves be willing to exercise the self-denial for their own welfare that he is willing to undergo for them. They would be willing to reap the harvest of joy, but they do not like to sow the seed of suffering. It often happens that a righteous man is in the midst of a generation who cannot appreciate his moral worth and his intellectual wisdom. It has been said that the intellectual struggles of one age are the intuitions of the next, and men that are now regarded as grand and noble were perhaps looked upon as of little worth in the generation in which they lived. Or a man may not live long enough to complete his plans for the public benefit--the best things are often slow in coming to maturity, and many a righteous man has been called away before he has perfected his designs of blessing for his race. Although the good and faithful servant will always have the "Well-done" of his master, his plans and purposes are often seemingly frustrated by the shortness of this life, the scantiness of his resources, or the misconception of his fellows. History abounds with illustrations of this truth.

+II. That there must come a time when it will go well with the righteous.+ It is an ordination of God's providence that the righteous man should pass through both experiences. The soldier needs defeat as well as victory to develop all his latent talent, to make manifest all the heroism that is within him. The mariner must pass through storms as well as fair weather if he is to learn the true art of navigation. And so the righteous man must have the experience of apparent failure and defeat to develop faith, and patience, and courage, which would otherwise remain hidden or dwarfed. But when this has been accomplished, a "set time to favour him will come." "He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall _doubtless_ come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him" (Psalm cxxvi. 6). The worth of his character and his work will be recognised freely and generously by many, and must be acknowledged, although it may be with reluctance, even by his opponents. Joseph passed many years in servitude and imprisonment, but by and by his worth was freely acknowledged. "Can we find such a one as this is, a man in whom the Spirit of God is?" (Gen. xli. 38.) Both king and people decided that it ought to go well with him, and it did go well with him now that his ability and character were known.

+III. The blessing and consequent joy that comes to others when the time has come for it to "go well with the righteous."+ By the blessing of the righteous the city is exalted--"the city" as a consequence "rejoiceth." Even the bad in a kingdom have cause for joy when the righteous have the pre-eminence in a community, whatever be their condition they would be much worse off under the rule of unrighteousness. The lost in hell and those who are being lost on earth are in a better condition from having the Righteous God upon the throne of the universe. The greatest criminals in our prisons find it better to have a just and righteous gaoler than an unrighteous one. So the whole city has reason to rejoice in the pre-eminence--in the success of the righteous. Such men exalt a city--1. _By forming a basis for commercial enterprise._ The role of the unrighteous in a city will, in time, prevent commercial prosperity by destroying public confidence. 2. _By promoting the just rights of all._ That community is blessed where each citizen enjoys freedom to live his life and do the best for himself and others without trampling on the rights of his fellows. Tyranny on the one hand provokes rebellion on the other, and misery to both parties is the issue. The head is intended to think and plan for the rest of the body, the limbs are intended to carry out the designs of the head; if either the one or the other fails to perform its work, suffering comes to the whole frame. So in the body politic. Righteous men strive for the union of all classes for the good of all, and this unity exalts a city--gives peace at home, and is the surest defence against foes without. Righteousness is a stronger wall than any material defence. This is the safeguard of the ideal city of Isaiah's prophecy. "I will make thine officers peace, and thine exactors righteousness. Violence shall no more be heard in thy land, wasting nor destruction within thy borders; but thou shalt call thy walls Salvation, and thy gates Praise" (Isa. lx. 17-18). 3. _By averting Divine judgments._ Sodom would have been spared if there had been _ten_ righteous within the city. Unrighteousness in a nation must bring national calamity, but a minority of good men delays the visitation. "Except the Lord of Hosts had left unto us a very small remnant, we would have been as Sodom, and we would have been like unto Gomorrah" (Isa. i. 9). "For the elect's sake, those days shall be shortened" (Matt. xxiv. 22).

+IV. That as the character and services of the righteous man shall meet with public and grateful recognition, so the man who by his wicked influence has brought misery upon his fellow-creatures shall meet with public execration.+ Just as the righteous man often seems defeated by untoward circumstances, and all his unselfish and patriotic plans seem nipped in the bud for a time, yet success comes to him in the end, or, if not so, yet at his death his real worth is seen and acknowledged; so a wicked and selfish man may seem to carry all before him for a time, and may even succeed in blinding men to his real character, yet the time comes when his worthlessness and self-seeking meet with their terrible yet just reward. There is a tendency generally in human nature to condone a man's sins after he is dead, but instances are not few in the history of the world when this humane tendency has been stifled by the exceeding curse that some men have been to the world.

_ILLUSTRATIONS OF VERSES_ 10 _and_ 11.

A more vivid illustration of what has been said here concerning a righteous man cannot be found than in the life and labours of William the Silent, Prince of Holland. This noble man gave his all to the liberation of the Netherlands from Spanish tyranny. For many years he bore the whole weight of a struggle which Motley designates "as unequal as men have ever undertaken." "To exclude the Inquisition," he continues, "to maintain the ancient liberties of his country, was the task which he appointed to himself when a youth of three and twenty. He accomplished the task, through danger, amid toils, and with sacrifices such as few men have ever been able to lay upon their country's altar; for the disinterestedness of the man was as prominent as his fortitude. A prince of high rank and with royal revenues, he stripped himself of station, wealth, almost at times of the common necessaries of life, and became, in his country's cause, nearly a beggar as well as an outlaw." At times it seemed as if the cause to which he had thus devoted himself was lost, even this disinterested man did not escape the envy and suspicion of those whom he was trying to serve. But he lived to see his work accomplished, and when he fell at last by the hand of an assassin, he was "entombed," to quote again from his biographer, "amid the tears of a whole nation." "The people were grateful and affectionate, for they trusted the character of their 'Father William,' and not all the clouds which calumny could collect ever dimmed to their eyes the radiance of that lofty mind to which they were accustomed, in their darkest calamities, to look for light. As long as he lived, he was the guiding star of a whole brave nation, and when he died, the little children cried in the streets."--_Motley's Rise of the Dutch Republic._

Illustrations of the latter clause of verse 10 abound in history. "Memorable in the prison experiences of Herod Agrippa was the arrival of news that the tyrant of Capreæ was dead. Immediately on the death of Tiberius, Marsyas, Agrippa's faithful bondslave, hastened to his master's dungeon, and communicated the joyful intelligence, saying, in the Hebrew language, "The lion is dead." The centurion on guard heard the rejoicing, inquired as to the cause, ordered the royal prisoner's chains to be struck off, and invited him to supper. But more memorable was the exultation, widely felt and cruelly expressed, at Agrippa's own death--that loathsome death, so strange in its surroundings, of which a tale is told in the Acts of the Apostles. The inhabitants of Sebaste and Cæsarea, as we learn from Josephus, and particularly Herod's own soldiers, indulged in the most brutal rejoicings at his death,--heaping his memory with reproaches. . . . In his account of the death of the Emperor Maximin, Gibbon says, "It is easier to conceive than to describe the universal joy of the Roman world on the fall of the tyrant." The death of Richelieu is said to have been felt by France like the relief from a nightmare; from the king to the lowest rhymster, all joined in the burden of the couplets that proclaimed it--_Il est parti, il a plié bagage, ce cardinal._--_Jacox._

+Judge Jeffreys.+ A disposition to triumph over the fallen has never been one of the besetting sins of Englishmen; but the hatred of which Jeffreys was the object was without a parallel in our history, and partook but too largely of the savageness of his own nature. The people, where he was concerned, were as cruel as himself, and exulted in his misery as he had been accustomed to exult in the misery of convicts listening to the sentence of death, and of families clad in mourning. The rabble congregated before his deserted mansion in Duke Street, and read on the door, with shouts of laughter, the bills which announced the sale of his property. Even delicate women, who had tears for highwaymen and housebreakers, breathed nothing but vengeance against him. The lampoons which were hawked about the town were distinguished by an atrocity rare even in those days. Hanging would be too mild a death for him: a grave under the gibbet would be too respectable a resting place: he ought to be whipt to death at the cart's tail: he ought to be tortured like an Indian: he ought to be devoured alive. . . . Disease, assisted by strong drink and by misery, did its work fast. He dwindled in a few weeks from a portly and even corpulent man to a skeleton, and died in the forty-first year of his age. He had been Chief Justice of the King's Bench at thirty-five, and Lord Chancellor at thirty-seven. In the whole history of the English bar there is no other instance of so rapid an elevation or so terrible a fall.--_Macaulay._

+Foulon, a French Official in the time of the great Revolution.+ This is that same Foulon named _âme damnée_ (Familiar demon) _du Parlement;_ a man grown gray in treachery, in griping, projecting, intriguing and iniquity: who once, when it was objected, to some finance-scheme of his, "What will the people do?" made answer, in the fire of discussion, "The people may eat grass:" hasty words, which fly abroad irrevocable, and will send back tidings. . . . We are but at the 22nd of the month, hardly above a week since the Bastile fell, when it suddenly appears that old Foulon is alive; nay, that he is here, in early morning, in the streets of Paris: the extortioner, the plotter, who would make the people eat grass, and was a liar from the beginning! It is even so. The deceptive "sumptuous funeral" (of some domestic that died); the hiding-place at Vitry towards Fountainebleau, have not availed that wretched old man. Some living domestic or dependent, for none loves old Foulon, has betrayed him to the village. Merciless boors of Vitry unearth him, pounce upon him, like hell-hounds. Westward, old Infamy! to Paris, to be judged at the Hôtel-de-Ville! His old head, which seventy-four years had bleached, is bare; they have tied an emblematic bundle of grass upon his back; a garland of nettles and thistles is round his neck: in this manner, led with ropes, goaded on with curses and menaces, must he, with his old limbs, sprawl forward; the pitiablest, most unpitied of all old men. Sooty Saint-Antoine, and every street, musters its crowds as he passes; the Hell of the Hôtel-de-Ville, the Place de Grève itself, will scarcely hold his escort and him. Foulon must not only be judged righteously, but judged there where he stands without delay. Appoint seven judges, ye Municipals, or seventy and seven; name them yourselves, or we will name them, but judge him. Electoral rhetoric, eloquence of Mayor Bailly, is wasted for hours, explaining the beauty of the law's delay. Delay, and still delay! . . . the morning has worn itself into noon, and he is still unjudged. . . . "Friends," said a person, stepping forward, "what is the use of judging this man? Has he not been judged these thirty years?" With wild yells Sans-culottism clutches him in its hundred hands: he is whirled across the Place de Grève to the _Lanterne_ (lamp-iron), which there is at the corner of the _Rue de la Vannerie,_ pleading bitterly for life--to the deaf winds. Only with the third rope--for two ropes broke, and the quavering voice still pleaded--can he be so much as got hanged. His body is dragged through the streets; his head goes aloft upon a pike, the mouth filled with grass: amid sounds as of Tophet, from a grass-eating people.--_Carlyle's French Revolution._

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Two things, as herein is showed, do move the righteous unto joy. The one is, the honouring and good success of the just. When it is well with them that do well, the well-disposed multitude cannot but be inwardly glad, and outwardly justify this inward joy by signs and tokens of mirth. The other thing that moveth the well-disposed to rejoice, and even to sing (or shout) is the destruction of the wicked. There is great cause why the people of God should rejoice at the vengeance that is executed on the ungodly; for they persecute the Church, or infect many with their evil counsel and example, or draw God's punishments on the places wherein they live. Thus did the ancient Israelites rejoice in old time, when the enemies of God were overthrown; and thus did we of late sing and triumph when the proud Popish Spaniards were drowned and confounded. . . . A kingdom is overthrown by the flattery, heresy, foolish counsel, and conspiracy of mischievous and ungodly persons. Thus a tongue can even build and overthrow a city.--_Muffet._

The world, in despite of the native enmity of the heart, bears its testimony to consistent godliness (ch. xvi. 7; Mark vi. 20). . . . The people of God unite in the shouting occasioned by the overthrow of the wicked; not from any selfish feeling of revenge; much less from unfeeling hardness towards their fellow-sinners. But when a hindrance to the good cause is removed (ch. xxviii. 28; Eccles. ix. 18); when the justice of God is against sin (2 Sam. xviii. 14-28), and his faithful preservation of His Church (Exod. xv. 21; Judges v. 31) are displayed, ought not every feeling to be absorbed in a supreme interest in His glory? Ought they not to shout? (Psa. lii. 6, 7, lviii. 10; Rev. xviii. 20). The "Alleluia" of heaven is an exalting testimony to the righteous judgments of the Lord our God, hastening forward His glorious kingdom (Rev. xix. 1, 2).--_Bridges._

_By the good of the righteous;_ not "in the good" or "when it goeth well." "_By the perishing of the wicked,_" not when the wicked perish. A city is very far from exulting in the good of the righteous, or in the destruction of the wicked. But "by," or "by means of," as the unacknowledged cause there comes the exulting and shouting. That is, a city is blest by the prosperity of righteous men. "_Good._" This word cannot be properly translated. It means both _good_ and _goodness_. If we say "good," the "_good_ of the righteous" will mean their _welfare._ If we say "goodness" it will mean their piety. The word in the Hebrew means both. The text to be complete must confine itself to neither. The city is not only blessed by the good that characterises the righteous, but by the good that happens to them. How glorious this becomes when "the righteous" means the Church! The wilderness and the solitary place have been glad for her. It is true of all the universe. As the history of heaven and hell, the "good of the righteous," and "the perishing of the wicked" will breed universal benefit. It was such texts as these that moved the Papists to realise the good by actually slaughtering the wicked out of the land. . . . Piety is in proportion to usefulness. If a Christian does not bless his city, it is a mark against him. "_Bless_" means to _invoke good_. "The mouth of the wicked" pulls down a neighbourhood by every form of teaching. The righteous builds it, and especially by prayer.--_Miller._

"The mouth of the wicked." Whether he be a seedsman of sedition or a seducer of the people, a Sheba or a Shebna, a carnal gospeller or a godless politician, whose drift is to formalise and enervate the power of the truth, till at length they leave us a heartless and sapless religion. "One of these sinners may destroy much good" (Eccles. ix. 18).--_Trapp._

Good men have not only God's hand to give them good things, but godly men's hearts to be joyful for them. When Mordecai was advanced, the city of Shushan rejoiced and was glad. When the Lord showed His great mercy on Zacharias and Elizabeth in giving them a son, their kinsfolk and neighbours came and rejoiced with them. . . . It is well known that righteous men will make their brothers commoners with them in their prosperity; when they are advanced, others shall not be disgraced thereby: when they are enriched, others shall not be impoverished thereby: when they are made mighty, others shall not be weakened thereby; And so it is said concerning Mordecai, that when the royal apparel was on his back, and the crown of gold on his head, that unto the Jews was come light, and joy, and gladness and honour (Esth. viii. 16). . . . Here is instruction to them that be desirous to gain the hearts of honest men. . . . Many men desire to be popular, but few to be righteous. . . . Good liking is not gotten by pomp and power, and favour is not gained by wealth and riches, and love is not commanded by authority and dignity. These may be allured with goodness, but never compelled by violence.--_Dod._

Such is the nature of righteousness, that though it cannot make all to love it, yet it maketh all to love the welfare of the righteous. Origen therefore saith, that the few righteous which were in Jerusalem were not carried into captivity for their own offences, but that the captive people might rejoice in their welfare. For, saith he, had the wicked only been carried away, and the righteous remained, the wicked had never had the comfort of returning. On the other side, such is the nature of wickedness, that though many embrace it themselves, yet they are pleased to see it destroyed in others.--_Jermin._

The exultant shout of relief at a man's death might almost wake the dead man. It is hideous to think of a choral symphony of voices, jubilant at a dead march, making the welkin ring with huzzas at death's last fest, and welcoming it to the echo. For those tumultuous pæans have a vengeful curse in every note. They mean malediction; and they say what they mean. The bad man dead and gone is such a good riddance. The multitude account it for themselves, not for him, such a happy release. The greatest of the greater prophets of the Old Testament indites the "triumphant insultation," of his country and his countrymen against the dead and gone king of Babylon, when that oppressor ceased. . . . (Isa. xiv. 4). When Alexander Jannæus, desirous of a reconcilement with his people, asked them what he should do to make them quite content;--"Die!" was the response. It was the only way. The death of Ethwald, in Joanna Baillie's tragedy, points the moral to the same bitter tale. Here are the closing lines of the drama:--

"Through all the vexed land Let every heart bound at the joyful tidings, Thus from his frowning height the tyrant falls Like a dark mountain, whose interior fires, Raging in ceaseless tumult, have devoured Its own foundations. Sunk in sudden ruin To the tremendous gulf, in the vast void No friendly rock rears its opposing head To stay the dreadful crash. . . . The joyful hinds Point to the traveller the hollow vale Where once it stood."

--_Jacox._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 12, 13.

CONTEMPT AND TALE-BEARING.

+I. He who lacks moral worth will be indifferent to the worth of others.+ He will despise the character that he does not possess. In the minds of some men who have no learning there is a disposition to undervalue the attainments of others. They do not value it because they do not possess it. In order to esteem it rightly they must come to the possession of it. Some men pretend to despise wealth and call gold sordid dust, but most, if not all people of this kind have very little of what they despise in their own possession. Some translate here "a heartless man despiseth his neighbour." A man without moral wisdom is a man without a kind heart, and he despises his neighbour because he lacks the heart which is probably possessed by the man whom he despises. A man must have something good in himself to enable him to see what is worthy of honour in his brother. There must be light in the eye if we are to appreciate the light of the sun. A man must have something of a musical nature to be able to appreciate the musical gifts of another. A man shows that he is void of wisdom if he despises the meanest of his fellow creatures.

+II. A special form in which contempt for others is often manifested.+ "A tale-bearer revealeth secrets." If a man holds his neighbour in contempt, he is not careful of that neighbour's reputation. Being himself without moral worth he has nothing to lose, and therefore esteems lightly what is most valued by his brother man. Men who by their own folly are always poor are ever anxious to bring others down to their own level, and so men without reputation are very often disposed to rob others of their good name. This they attempt to do by revealing what they ought to conceal. There are times when we ought faithfully to keep within our own bosoms what we know about another, even although what we know is in the highest degree honourable to him. In the plan which Christ had marked out for Himself there were times when He desired that even His deeds of benevolence should not be made known. To some whom He healed He charged "that they should not make it known" (Matt. xii. 16). If it is good sometimes to conceal what is only honourable and praiseworthy, how much more should a man be careful not to reveal any real or seeming inconsistency in a good man--anything which may in any way lower him in the estimation of others--any painful secret which might be mis-construed to his dishonour or lessen his influence for good in the world.

+III. The contrast exhibited in the conduct of a man of moral worth.+ He, "being a man of understanding," knows the value of every human soul. He may _pity_ his degraded fellow-man, but never _despises_ them. He sets too high an estimate upon his neighbour to hold in contempt even those who are far beneath him in moral excellence, how much less will it be possible for him to despise those who are his equals or superiors. Around the imperfections of all he throws the robe of that charity which even "thinketh no evil" (1 Cor. xiii. 5), much less _speaks_ a word that could be interpreted to his neighbour's disadvantage. He holds the good name of others as a sacred trust. He guards it as a man of a "faithful spirit" would guard any precious possession belonging to another.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Verse 12. "_A heartless man._" All such are titles of the unsaved man. The same negative state, _i.e._, a want of the Spirit, and hence a want of benevolence, not only keeps men from blessing their city (ver. 11), but makes them contemptuous. Others' interests do not weigh a feather. See a fine description of this in 1 Cor. xiii., where men are supposed even to "behave unseemly" from this high theologic fact. They do not care for their neighbours, and, therefore, do not care to behave well. If a neighbour is disgraced, they are too contemptuous to care for its effect. They are reckless in their talk of his disgrace, while a "man of understanding" is silent.--_Miller._

No human creature is to be despised, for he is our neighbour. He is our own flesh, our brother, sprung from our common father Adam. Honour all men. Men were made in the image of God; and though that image is now lost, it is still a sufficient evidence of the sinfulness of despising, as well as of murdering, our neighbour, that in the image of God man was made, and that we cannot say whether the persons who we are tempted to despise are not in that happy number of the chosen of God for whose sakes the Son of God hath dignified our nature by assuming it, and whom He will again beautify with that glorious image which was effaced by the fall. Do you allege that your neighbour is worthy of contempt, on account of his poverty or meanness, or some remarkable weakness, by which he is rendered ridiculous? I ask you whether he is a fool. You say, No. Then confess that your contempt ought to rest upon yourself; for Solomon says you are one, and want of wisdom is far worse than the want of riches, of beauty, or polite accomplishments.--_Trapp._

Not remembering that he is his neighbour, cut out of the same cloth, the shears only going between, and as capable of heaven as himself, though never so poor, mean, deformed, or otherwise despicable. The man of understanding refraineth his tongue even if he be slighted or reviled. He knows it is to no purpose to wash off dirt with dirt.--_Trapp._

Verse 13. The difference is a sharply drawn one, the distinction a distinctly defined one, between fidelity and unfaithfulness, between the treacherous and the loyal. There is a Danish proverb, quoted in the Archbishop of Dublin's book, which warns us well against relying too much on other men's silence, since there is no rarer gift than the capacity of keeping a secret: "Tell nothing to thy friend which thy enemy may not know." One should be careful not to entrust another unnecessarily with a secret which it may be a hard matter to keep; nor should one's desire for aid or sympathy be indulged by dragging other people into one's misfortunes. "There is as much responsibility in imparting your own secrets, as in keeping those of your neighbour," says Helps.--_Jacox._

This expression comes from trading. He who gads about to indulge in gossiping, will gratify his taste by scandals that he did not intend to divulge. "Secrets" or "secret counsels," that formal divan, where purest privacy is the thing that has been expected. It is these slight lusts, as we call them, that divulge character. The man that is born again will be of a "faithful spirit," and will scorn to gratify scandal at a neighbour's expense.--_Miller._

A note to know a talker by, is that he is a walker from place to place (see Critical Notes), hearing and spying what he can, that he may have whereof to prattle to this body and that body. Thus carrying of tales the Lord forbiddeth in his law, where he saith, "Thou shalt not go up and down as a tale-bearer among thy people" (Lev. xix. 16).--_Muffet._

Here we see that a well-governed spirit will govern the tongue. An unrestrained tongue is an evidence of levity, or of some worse quality in the heart. And if the spirit be faithful, the tongue will be cautious and friendly. The communication between the spirit and the tongue is so easy, that the one will certainly discover the quality of the other, for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.--_Lawson._

There are various ways of acting the "tale-bearer." There is that of _open blabbing._ And this, as it is the simplest, is, in truth, the least dangerous. The character becomes immediately known; and all who have secrets which they _really wish kept_ will take care to withhold them from him. There is the next that of _confidential communication._ The secret-holder affects to look this way and that, to ascertain that no one is within hearing; and then with many whispered _doubts_ whether he is doing right, and whispered _no doubts_ that he is perfectly safe with the dear friend to whom he speaks, imparts it in a breath that enters only his solitary ear, as a thing received in the profoundest secrecy, and not, on any account whatever, to go further--thus setting the example of broken confidence as the encouragement and inducement to keep it. There is that also of _sly insinuation._ The person who has the secret neither openly blabs it nor confidentially whispers it, but throws out hints of his having it--allusions more or less remote as to its nature--by which curiosity is awakened, inquiry stimulated, and the thing ultimately brought to light; while he who threw out the leading notices plumes himself on having escaped the imputation of a tale-bearer. Now these and whatever others there may be, _are all bad;_ and the greater the amount of pretension and hypocrisy, so much the worse.--_Wardlaw._

Reticence is commended from another point of view. The man who comes to us with tales about others will reveal our secrets also. Faithfulness is shown, not only in doing what a man has been commissioned to do, but in doing it quietly and without garrulity.--_Plumptre._

He is a rare friend that can both give counsel and keep counsel.--_Trapp._

The Holy Ghost, here and elsewhere, compareth busybodies and such as delight to deal in other men's matters, to petty chapmen and pedlars, which carry wares about, selling in one place and buying in another. A slanderous tongue trafficketh altogether by exchange, it will deliver nothing to you, but upon condition to receive somewhat from you. It will never bear an empty pack, but desireth, where aught is uttered and taken out, there to take somewhat to put in, that it may have choice for other places.--_Dod._

We must regard every matter as an entrusted secret, which we believe the person concerned would wish to be considered such. Nay, further still, we must consider all circumstances as secrets entrusted, which would bring scandal upon another if told, and which it is not our certain duty to discuss, and that in our own persons and to his face.--_Leigh Hunt._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 14.

HELMSMANSHIP.

+I. The many (the people) are dependent upon the few for guidance.+ The word counsel is literally "pilotage," "helmsmanship." The many passengers in the vessel are dependent upon the few who guide it. The dependence of the many upon the few for guidance runs through every phase of human life. The dependence of the children upon their natural head is but prophetic of all the periods of after life, which very much consists in the dependence of the many upon the few. The child's life at home and at school is a preparation for the rough handling of circumstance in this matter in the time of manhood. Although the man's ability to guide his own life is far greater than that of the child, yet his need of counsel and guidance has increased with his years and responsibilities. This need of guidance springs from men's unequal gifts. The physical, mental, and moral inequalities of men create and supply the demand for leaders--for counsellors for the many. This inequality is an ordination of the Divine Ruler of the universe--God is the Author of the inequalities. In nature we see that the strong give shelter to the weak. The mighty oak protects the tiny plant at its roots. Counsellors are the giant trees which give shelter by giving guidance to those who are in some respects inferior to them. Men may be born _free,_ but they are nowhere born _equal_ in mental and physical qualities. Hence some must _counsel,_ others must _be counselled._ Guidance is felt to be a necessity, and men make a virtue of the necessity. The passengers on board a vessel submit to the direction of the pilot because they feel that their safety depends upon submission, and so do the members of a nation--the citizens of a city. They know from experience that the way out of a difficulty is not found by those who follow, but by those who lead--that if they would enjoy the advantages of civil peace and safety, they must submit to the guidance and direction.

+II. That "no counsel" in a nation will end in their being no nation to counsel.+ "Where there is no counsel the people fall." The passengers in a ship who have no one to steer the vessel will soon cease to have need of a helmsman. So the nation which has no head--no government--will cease to be a nation. Its national existence will be ruined by the anarchy that must follow.

+III. Many men to give counsel are as a rule better than one.+ When the sea is heavy and breakers are ahead, one man at the wheel of a vessel would not be able to hold her on her course, many hands at once must be at work--the united strength of the many is indispensable. "In the multitude" there is "safety." So it is generally in the case of the ship of the State. As a rule, there is more wisdom and ability in the union of many men than in one--there is likewise less danger of despotic rule. But there have been many exceptions to this rule. Joseph knew how to provide for the safety of Egypt when all the rest of Pharaoh's counsellors were at their wits' end. Before the battle of Plassey--which laid the foundation of British rule in India--Clive called a council of war to decide whether or not the battle should be fought. The majority pronounced against fighting. But it is now generally allowed that if the advice of that council had been followed the British would have never been in possession of India. Clive decided to act in opposition to the opinion of the majority, and the day was won for England. (_See Macaulay's Essay on Lord Clive._) Sometimes in the multitude of counsellors there has been national ruin. "All the council" of the Jews sought to put Jesus to death (Matt. xxvi. 59), and so brought about the destruction of their nation. But these are exceptions to a rule.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

The case supposed, appears to be that of a self-willed, self-sufficient, headstrong ruler who glories in his power; who determines to wield the rod of that power in his own way, and who plays the hasty, jealous, resolute, sensitive and vindictive tyrant; who disdains to call in counsel, or who does it only for the pleasure or showing his superiority to it by setting it at nought. I conceive the phrase, "Where no counsel is," to be intended to convey not a little of the character of him by whom it is declined or disregarded. We have an example of such a character in Solomon's own successor _Rehoboam._ And yet, at the same time, in his case we are taught the necessity of understanding all such maxims as admitting of exceptions. Rehoboam _did_ take counsel; and his counsellors were not few. Had they been _fewer,_ there would in that instance been _more safety._ Had he stopped with the "_old men_ who had stood before Solomon his father," all would have been well. . . . How much better would it have been for Ahab, had he taken for his sole counsellor Micaiah the son of Imlah than it was when he preferred the four hundred prophets of Baal! The maxim, therefore, is _general._ It affirms the danger of solitary self-sufficiency, and the safety of deliberate and, in proportion to the complexity and difficulty of each case, and the nature and amount of its consequences, of extensive and diversified consultation.--_Wardlaw._

It is a penalty inflicted by God on a sinful state to give it princes void of counsel (Isa. iii. 4; chap. xv. 22).--_Fausset._

Care seems to be taken after a proverb lauding silence, always to put in a eulogy of speech. (See chap. x 20, 21.) Secrets are not to be hid until the whole community is one covered over wickedness. The same faithfulness that conceals a secret, intrudes counsel, and grasps control, and saves the people by that leadership that the pious alone are intended to achieve. The word _counsel_ or "helmsmanship" is from a root meaning a _cord;_ hence the tacking of the helm; and, now, that princely guidance, which piety in the world (though the world does not think so) does actually bestow. "_Safety_"--or "_salvation._" The inspired sentence-maker is always managing what the music men would call a _crescendo,_ for the second clause. The first clause speaks of the people as _falling,_ the second as not only "_not falling,_" but though fallen, as actually raised.--_Miller._

Tyranny is better than anarchy. And yet "Woe also to thee, O land, whose king is a child"; that is, wilful and uncounsellable. . . . One special thing the primitive Christians prayed for the emperor was, that God would send him a faithful council.--_Trapp._

It is not said that in the multitude of counsellors there is safety, but in the _largeness_ or _muchness_ of a counsellor, that is, such a counsellor as is furnished with a variety of counsels, and can look many ways for direction. For such a one is indeed of many, nay, often far better; because he can sooner resolve what is best, than many will or can. And therefore, though it be good to have many, and when they agree perhaps to follow them, yet it may be better to have one of many counsels, on whom to rely.--_Jermin._

Probably one is more struck, on reflection and in reading, with the exceptions to the rule, than with confirmatory examples of it, that in the multitude of counsellors there is safety. . . . A modern historian finds in the unlicensed discretion reposed by the Roman Senate in the general, the most efficient aid to the extent of Rome's early conquests, and he points by way of contrast, to the modern republics of Italy, as denying themselves scope for larger conquests by their extreme jealousy of their commanders. Anarchy in Antwerp is the heading of one of Mr. Morley's graphic pages, and a lively picture it offers us of the confusion that ensued when the hydra heads of the multitudinous government were laid together. In Drake's expedition of 1585, there were too many in command; and after losing time in debate which Sir Francis, if alone, would have spent in action, they were obliged to give up the attempt on the Canaries, with some loss. The otherwise unaccountable action of De Witt in 1671 is explained at once when the anarchical constitution of the Dutch republic is remembered--its want of a central authority, and the fact that, to raise money or troops, the consent of a number of petty councils was necessary, in the multitude of whose counsellors was anything but safety. "In the multitude of counsellors there may be safety," says Alison, "it is in general safety to the counsellors, not to the counselled." The quality of the counsel, and the ability of the counsellors, are elements of main import in the maxim of the king.--_Jacox._

For Homiletics on verse 15, see on chap. vi. 1-5.

_ILLUSTRATION OF VERSE_ 15.

The melancholy instances of ruin, in consequence of becoming surety for others, are exceedingly numerous in the East. Against this they have many proverbs and fearful examples; but nothing seems to impart wisdom. Nearly all the Government monopolies, both among native and European rulers, are let to the highest bidders, and as the whole of the money cannot be advanced till a part of the produce be sold, sureties have to be accountable for the amount. But as men generally enter into these speculations in order to better a reduced fortune, an extravagant price is often paid, and ruin is the consequence both to the principal and his surety. This practice of suretyship, however, is also common in the most trifling affairs of life. "Sign your name," is a request preferred by every one who is desirous of obtaining additional security to a petty agreement. In every legal court or magistrate's office may be seen, now and then, a trio entering, thus to become responsible for the engagements of the other. The cause of all this is probably the bad faith which prevails amongst the heathen.--_Roberts._

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

The traffic of ancient times was small, in comparison with the vast system of exchange which now compasses the whole world like network; but the same vices that we lament marred it, and the same righteousnesses that we desiderate would have healed its ailments. Neither the law of gravitation nor the law of righteousness has changed since the times of Solomon; both are as powerful as they then were, and as pervasive. . . . In those primitive times, it seems, as in our own, some men desired to get faster forward in the world than their circumstances legitimately permitted. They will throw for a fortune at another's risk. . . . The warning does not of course discourage considerate kindnesses in bearing a deserving man over temporary pressure. . . . The Bible permits and requires more of kindness to our brother than we have ever done him yet; but it does not allow us to do a certain substantial evil, for the sake of distant, shadowy good.--_Arnot._

The heart and mind of every one is a stranger to every one except to God alone. He therefore that is a surety for another, is surety for a _stranger_.--_Jermin._

. . . be not surety, if thou be a father, Love is a personal debt. I cannot give My children's right, nor ought he to take it: rather Both friends should die, than hinder them to live. Fathers first enter bonds to nature's ends; And are her sureties, ere they are a friend's.--_Herbert._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 16.

A GRACIOUS WOMAN.

+I. What is a gracious woman?+ 1. She is one who stands in right relations to God. Every thing depends upon right relationship. Upon the right relationship of the earth to the great centre of the solar system depends all that makes the earth of worth to us--all its glorious fruitfulness and beauty. If there was not this adjustment of relationship between the earth and the sun, our planet would not only be an unfit abode for man, but would be a positive blot upon God's universe. This is true also of man's relations to each other, and is specially so in respect to our relationship to God. Nothing but a right relationship to Him can develop these moral beauties which alone make a true woman. She is accepted or "justified" by God's most gracious favour on God's own conditions. She lives in the eternal sunlight of His gracious influence, and is held to the most Blessed Being in the universe, by the sweet persuasiveness which flows from His blessed character. The thoughts of the Eternal God are the food of her spirit, and from this relationship to Him comes all the grace of her character. Is there any other relationship which can make such a woman? There is none, not only so, the absence of it may end in making even a woman a blot, a positive evil, in the moral universe. There can be no true graciousness where there is no union with Him whose most attractive attribute is His graciousness, who makes Himself known, as "the Lord God, merciful and gracious." (Exod. xxxiv. 6). A gracious woman must be in right relationship with a gracious God. 2. In consequence of this, a gracious woman is right in her human relationships. Being right in the greater matter, she must be in that which is less. The earth, because she preserves her right relation to the sun, is right in her relationship to the other planets, that is, her path in the heavens is just that which is best for the whole planetary system--that which enables them also to keep their orbits, and prevents one of them from exercising a baleful influence over another. A woman whose spirit is under the influence of a gracious God will be a gracious daughter, a gracious wife, a gracious mother, a gracious friend and neighbour--that is, all her doings and sayings will be irradiated and warmed by that holiness and love which is the essence of the character of God Himself. In the summing up of the Divine law, Christ makes the right human relation depend upon a right Divine relation. "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself." (Luke