CHAPTER XIV.
CRITICAL NOTES.--+1. Wise woman,+ or "woman's wisdom." +2. He that walketh,+ etc., or, "He walketh in his uprightness who feareth Jehovah, and perverse in his ways is he that despiseth Him" _(Delitzsch.)_ +3. Rod,+ or "sceptre." Zöckler reads, "In the mouth of a fool is a rod _for_ his pride." Stuart, "Haughtiness is a rod," etc. +5.+ Miller here translates, "He who witnesses things correctly, does not lie; but of a deceived witness the very breath is lies" (See his comments on the verse). +6.+ Rather, "The scorner has sought wisdom," etc. +7.+ Stuart translates the latter clause, "_for_ thou hast not discerned," etc.; Miller, "_and_ thou shalt not know," etc. +8. Deceit,+ or "deception." +9.+ Many translators read this verse, "The sacrifice," or "the sin-offering, makes a sport of," or "mocks fools." So Zöckler, Elster, Ewald, Stuart, Wordsworth, etc. Miller translates, "Sin makes a mock at fools." +Among,+ or "to." +10.+ Zöckler reads the latter clause, "Let no stranger," etc. Miller renders the whole verse, "A knowing heart is a bitterness to itself; but with its joy it does not hold intercourse as an enemy." +11. Tabernacle,+ "tent." +13. The heart is sorrowful,+ or "will be" (perchance). +14. Filled with,+ _i.e.,_ "satisfied with." Stuart translates the latter clause, "Away from him is the good man," _i.e.,_ he will keep aloof from the backslider. +16. Rageth,+ "is presumptuous," or "haughty." +21. Poor,+ or "suffering" _(Delitzsch)._ +24.+ Or, "It is a crown to the wise when they are rich, but the folly of fools remains folly" _(Delitzsch)._ +28.+ Miller translates, "In a _great_ people." +30. A sound heart,+ "a quiet heart." +Envy,+ "passion," "perturbation." +32. Driven forth,+ or "thrust lower" _(Miller)._ Delitzsch translates, "When misfortune befals him, the wicked is overthrown, but the righteous hath hope even in his death." +34.+ The Hebrew word for _reproach_ means also "mercy." Hence Gejer and Miller translate "Mercy for nations is the sin-offering," the word _sin_ being often used to express the sin-offering. +35.+ Miller reads, "The kindness of a king is a wise servant, but his wrath becomes one that bringeth shame" (See his comments).
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 1.
THE HOUSE BUILDER AND THE HOUSE DESTROYER.
+I. A woman's special sphere of work--her house.+ In this word is included all that in any way relates to the home life. Woman's relation to it is three-fold. 1. _The house--properly so-called--the interior of the building, is under her especial care._ It is her temple of service, she is its priestess. As the female priestess in the Roman temple and the Hebrew priest in the temple of God were responsible for the internal order of their temples, so is every woman responsible for the order, the cleanliness, and comfort of the house of which she is the social priestess. It is _her_ house, and in it she is expected to perform duties to which she is not called in any other house. Her oversight and presence, if not her actual labour, are indispensable to the proper arrangement of everything in it. 2. _The affairs or business of the house is her special care._ It is for her to preside over the domestic economy of the house--over that which we call _housekeeping._ All transactions of this nature seem naturally to fall within her jurisdiction, and it looks odd and out of place to see them in other hands. 3. _She is specially related to the life of the house._ If she is a mother, she, above all others, has the charge of the children, her opportunities for influencing them are greater than those possessed by the father. Her life is always before them. Her words are treasured up and repeated by them. If she is a mistress, the servants are under her special jurisdiction and guidance.
+II. The wise woman is a social architect.+ She "builds her house." 1. _Building implies a plan._ No man sets about building a house without first having a plan, which is well considered in proportion to the wisdom of the builder. No argument-builder, with any wisdom, enters into an argument without first considering what he is going to do, and how he is going to do it, in order, if possible, to arrive at an unanswerable conclusion. So, to build a house in the sense of the text, there must be a plan of action. Every wise woman has an end in view in the government of her household. She has plans in relation to each department. She knows what she purposes to do before she begins to do anything. 2. _Building implies personal exertion on the part of the architect._ All his work is not done when he has drawn the plan and issued his orders. He must see that they are executed. He must, if needful, show how they are to be carried out. In times of emergency the general of an army must--like Napoleon at the Bridge of Lodi--engage himself in a hand-to-hand fight with the enemy. So will a wise woman. She does not always say, "Go," but sometimes, "Come." She does not say, "_That_ is the way," when "_This_ is the way" is necessary. She never contents herself with saying, "Do this," without assuring herself that _it is_ done. 3. _Building implies a union of diverse materials to form a complete whole._ Many and diverse materials are brought together to build a house. It would be impossible to erect a building of usefulness and beauty of one material alone. So a wise woman brings together many different elements, and blends them in due proportion, in order to make the home-life true, and beautiful, and good. Her wisdom is shown in developing the abilities and capacities of each member of the household, so that each may contribute to the strength and comfort of the whole. Upon the female head of the house, more than upon anyone else, depends the unity, peace, and concord of this temple of living stones.
+III. An unwise woman, who is at the head of a house, caricatures her position by her conduct.+ Her position implies that she is a builder-up. Her conduct has the effect of pulling down. A clown upon a kingly throne is not more out of place than a foolish woman who bears the name of mistress, wife, and mother. The reins are in her hands, but she does not know how to guide the chariot; the materials are in her possession but she has no skill to use them. She is not only no centre of unity, she is a source of discord; she not only cannot build the house herself but she makes it impossible for anybody else to do anything towards it. She is not only no "crown to her husband," but she is "rottenness to his bones" (chap. xii. 4).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
A good wife is heaven's last best gift to a man; his angel of mercy; minister of graces innumerable; his gem of many virtues; his casket of jewels; her voice, his sweetest music; her smiles, his brightest day; her kiss, the guardian of his innocence; her arms, the pale of his safety; the balm of his health, the balsam of his life; her industry, his surest wealth; her economy, his safest steward; her lips, his faithful counsellors; her bosom, the softest pillow of his cares; and her prayers, the ablest advocates of heaven's blessings on his head.--_Jeremy Taylor._
The following is a translation of a Welsh Triad:--A good wife is modest, void of deceit, and obedient; pure of conscience, gracious of tongue, and true to her husband; her heart not proud, her manners affable, and her bosom full of compassion for the poor, labouring to be tidy, skilful of hand, and fond of praying to God; her conversation amiable, her dress decent, and her house orderly; quick of hand, quick of eye, and quick of understanding; her face benignant, her head intelligent, and provident, neighbourly, gentle, and of a liberal way of thinking; able in directing, providing what is wanting, and a good mother to her children; loving her husband, loving peace, and God.--_New Handbook of Illustration._
_"House"_ means _all interests._ "Has built" is preterite. If all interests are prosperous at present, it has been the work of the past. The second clause wisely returns to the future, which we commonly translate as the present, because the act is steadily running on, and includes both the present and the future. _Wisdom in woman_ has built _her house,_ beginning a long time ago; but _"folly"_ in woman is an affair of the present. If it had been at work long, it would have had no house to pull down. As entering upon the work of the wise, ungodly mothers tear down the house which generations of the righteous have been slowly building. The grand comment, however, is that this womanly wisdom or wise woman, like the woman of grace (chap. ix. 16), or woman of folly (chap. ix. 13) has an allegoric meaning. Women do much toward building up. But the text means more, that _"wisdom,"_ as personified, is the only builder of a _"house,"_ and _"folly,"_ as impenitence, all that can pull it down.--_Miller._
Only the characteristic wisdom of _woman_ (not that of the man) is able to "build itself a house," _i.e.,_ to make possible a household in the true sense of the word; for the woman alone has the capacity circumspectly to look through the multitude of individual household wants, and carefully to satisfy them; and also because the various activities of the members of a family can be combined in a harmonious unity only by the influence, partly regulative, and partly fostering, of a feminine character, gently but steadily efficient. But where there is wanting to the mistress of a house this wisdom attainable only by her, and appropriate only to her, then that is irrecoverably lost which first binds in a moral fellowship those connected by relationship of blood--that which makes the house, from a mere place of abode, to be the spiritual nursery of individuals organically associated.--_Elster._
The fullest recognition that has as yet met us of the importance of woman, for good or evil, in all human society.--_Plumptre._
With calm, clear eyes, deep insight, ready sympathy; active, without bustle; alert, without over-anxious vigilance; ignorant perchance of æsthetic rules, yet with subtle touches transforming into a fine picture the home-spun canvas, and with soft fairy music blending into harmony the noises of the day; apathetic about stocks and shares, and far-off millions; but with a keen appreciation of new sovereigns and no disdain for sixpences; a mere formalist, if professing interest in city improvements and parochial reforms, but as touching torn curtains and threadbare carpets much exercised in spirit; sure that the commotions of Europe will all come right, but shedding bitter tears at any outburst of juvenile waywardness, and praying earnestly, "Oh, that Ishmael may live before thee!" with small belief in the transcendental philosophy, and allowing that much may be said on both sides, but in the interpretation of the Ten Commandments positive, unreasoning, absolute; in theology hopelessly confounding the theology of the schools, and in an innocent way adopting half the heresies, but drinking direct from the fountain that living water which others prefer, chalybeate, through the iron pipe, or ærated from the filtering pond, and in a style which Calvin or Grotius might equally envy teaching the little ones the love of the Saviour; the angel of the house moulds a family for heaven, and by dint of holy example, and gentle control, her early and most efficacious ministry goes farther than any other to lay the foundations of future excellence, and train up sons and daughters for the Lord Almighty.--_Dr. Jas. Hamilton._
St. Ambrose noteth that when God asked Abraham, "Where is thy wife, Sarah?"--He was not ignorant where Sarah was; but that He asked the question that by Abraham's answer, "Behold, in the tent," He might teach women where they ought to be--namely, in the house, and not so much in the house as in the affairs of the house, making ready provision to entertain God as Sarah was.--_Jermin._
The modest virgin, the prudent wife, or the careful matron, are much more serviceable in life than petticoated philosophers, blustering heroines, or virago queens. She who makes her husband and her children happy, who reclaims the one from vice and trains the other to virtue, is a much greater character than ladies described in romance, whose whole occupation is to murder mankind with shafts from their quiver or their eyes.--_Goldsmith._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 2.
FEARING AND DESPISING THE LORD.
+I. A wholesome fear.+ "The fear of the Lord." When we fear to grieve or offend a person because of his or her goodness the fear does not spring from dread of their power, but from our high estimate of their character. It may exist where there is no power to injure. Strong men have sometimes had this fear for little children. There is also a fear which may spring from a conception of both goodness and power. It is the feeling which a child has for a good parent. There is a consciousness of the parent's goodness, and also a consciousness of his power to enforce his authority. In proportion as these elements are combined in relation to human creatures the fear which men have for them is wholesome--is salutary. Benevolence alone tends to weaken the fear--to lessen the reverence. Power alone is likely to produce hatred as well as fear. But when benevolence is linked with power it looks doubly attractive. The fear which a good man has for God arises from a conception of both the Infinite power and Infinite love of the Divine Father. If the first were wanting it would lack reverence; if the latter it would be a fear that "hath torment."
+II. The proof that a man possesses this wholesome fear.+ "He walks _uprightly._" Fear is a feeling of the mind. It can only be proved to exist when it brings forth action. Uprightness of life is an unanswerable proof that a man speaks truly when he says that he fears the Lord. God asks for no greater (Gen. xvii. 1, 2). This demonstration does not consist in a single act of integrity, but in a constant succession of acts, in a habit of life. It is a _walk._ (On "walking uprightly," see on chap. x. 9, 10, page 153.)
+III. The character of a perverse man--of a man whose walk is not upright.+ He is a "despiser of God." His life proves it, even if his words deny it. We despise that to which we do not attach a due value. All men who perversely refuse to accept God's plan of salvation _despise_ both the "riches of His goodness and forbearance and long-suffering," which are intended to "lead them to repentance" (Rom. ii. 4), and also that "power of His anger," of which no man can form an estimate (Psalm xc. 11).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
+I. Grace and sin in their true colours.+ Grace reigning is a reverence of God. Sin reigning is no less a contempt of God; in _this,_ more than in anything, sin appears exceeding sinful, that it despises God, whom angels adore. +II. Grace and sin in their true light.+ By this we know a man that has grace, and the fear of God, reigning in him, he makes conscience of his actions, is faithful to God and man. But on the contrary, he that wilfully follows his own way, is a wicked man, however he pretend to devotion.--_Henry._
A man walking over a field has a certain _level_ course (if there be such) that he naturally follows. If he walk not _level,_ or if he turn constantly out of his way, men think him either drunk or mad. It is this reasonable instinct of our nature that our text embodies. We do not say _uprightness,_ but _"levelness,"_ for it agrees with the idea of walking. Such meaning is, that folly is self-condemned; that if a man would put one foot before another, or mentally move as he himself thinks level and right, he would practically _"fear"_ God; but that he drops out of his own "way," and walks brokenly, and with change of gait. It is careless to define _fear_ as anything beside _fear_ itself. A holy _fear,_ however, is not terror; and yet a being afraid more really and more tremblingly often than the sinner. It is remarkable that when men have escaped wrath they begin most healthily to _fear_ it, and when men are faithless even to their own ways, they despise the most the law of the Almighty. This text, like many another, is pregnant. Pregnant texts are ambidextrous, and the alternative meanings, though distinct, are mutually embracing. Another sense is grammatical and equivalent in thought. It would read _"His"_ levelness, and _His_ ways, referring to Jehovah. It is only substituting capitals. It would mean, _"He that walks in God's level track fears Him; but he that is turned out of God's way,"_ that is, he that has got out of the line for which he was made, instead of _fearing,_ as he might, chooses that horrid moment for despising God. He would rank this higher than an ambiguity; for God's ways and man's ways, when they are _levelness_ and suited to our step, are the same blessed track, for we are created in the image of God.--_Miller._
He that walketh so that the sincerity of his heart maketh the uprightness to be _his,_ for a feigned uprightness is of the devil, not a man's own. God is feared where goodness is embraced. And, as St. Basil speaketh, the despising of the laws is the reproach of the lawmaker.--_Jermin._
Here is consolation to faithful men, though not void of infirmities, against the temptations of Satan, the calumniations of wicked men, and the fears of their own hearts. None are so much accused of contempt against God as those which are most religious. The devil seeketh to persuade them there is nothing in them but fraud. Sinful men, when they can charge against them no misdemeanours or lewdness of life, exclaim that they are hypocrites, and many doubts arise in their own souls by reason of the manifold imperfections of their lives. But are they desirous impartially to keep every commandment, if their power were answerable to their will? Do they endeavour to please God, though they cannot do it perfectly? Then they are upright in their ways, and walk in the law of the Lord; then God testifieth of them here, that they are of the number of them that fear Him, and elsewhere He testifieth that all those that fear Him they are blessed.--_Dod._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 3.
SPEECH A ROD.
+I. Speech is a rod because it is emblematic of power.+ A rod is an emblem of position and authority. It represents more than it is. Speech is a sign of man's superiority to animal creation. Words in themselves are not much, but they are mighty because of what they represent, viz., the soul of man. The sceptre of a king may not in itself be of much value, but it is of worth because of what it signifies.
+II. Speech will be man's destruction or salvation according to his character.+ The mouth of the fool represents the soul of the fool. We have before noted the unwisdom and danger of him who is too proud to receive instruction (see chap. xi. 1, page 192; xiii. 18, etc.). His proud boasting speech will by-and-by become the cause of his chastisement--a rod for his own back. And the godly wise speech of the wise will be the means of his preservation and honour (See on chap. xii. 5-8, page 255, vers. 17-19, page 274).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The fool's rod of pride is his _tongue,_ wherewith he assails and strikes others. But it recoils on himself. The instrument of punishment is called a rod, not a sword, to denote the contumely with which the proud shall be visited.--_Fausset._
The _rod in the mouth_ is often sharper than the rod in the hand (Jer. xviii. 18). Sometimes it strikes against God (Exod. v. 2; Psa. xii. 3, 4; 2 Kings xix. 10); sometimes it is "the rod of His anger against His people" (Isa. x. 5) permitted (Rev. xiii. 5) yet restrained (Psalm cxxv. 3). Always in the end it is _the rod_ for the _fool_ himself (Psa. lxiv. 8).--_Bridges._
The _"mouth"_ is the great word in the Proverbs for our whole earthly agency. The word translated _"rod"_ is the favourite emblem of sovereignty. A fool's life-work or energy is his sovereignty, by which he would carve his way. But it is a _"sceptre of pride."_ His kingship is a notion of pride. But the _"lips of the wise"_ do really win, and do really govern. They have a true sceptre which shall really guard them.--_Miller._
The lips of the wise preserve them. 1. _From doing wrong to others,_ in their loving mildness. 2. _From suffering wrong from others,_ by a wary heedfulness. 3. _From the rod of God's anger,_ in a humble craving pardon for their errors. The former part of this verse St. Gregory applieth unto arrogant preachers, who desire more sharply to reprove their afflicted hearers, than sweetly to comfort them, for they study more how they may condemn evil things by blaming of them, than how they may commend good things by praising them. They always desire those things which, by fierce chiding, they may beat upon.--_Jermin._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 4.
THE CLEAN CRIB.
+I. An empty and clean crib does not fulfil the end for which it was made.+ It was made for use; it was made to hold food for the ox, who earns, by his labour, the means of keeping it full. When God first created this world, and saw it lie before him in all its unsullied beauty, He said that it _was very good._ But, beautiful as it was, it was not to remain simply beautiful--it was to fulfil a higher purpose: it was to be a dwelling-place for man. And God gave it into the hands of men to build cities in it, to dig quarries in it, to mar in many respects its first beauty and order, but to make it of more real worth as man's dwelling, as his market, as his workshop. If man had never been compelled by hunger to put forth his hand and blacken its surface, and spoil some of its lovely landscapes, it would not have become what it now is, his training-school for a higher life. It would have been in perfect order and beauty, but it would not have fulfilled the purpose for which it was created. So with a large manufactory. No doubt it looks cleaner and fresher on the day that it comes from the hands of the builder than it does when its chimneys are pouring forth smoke and its floors are covered with grimy machinery, but if its owner were to build it simply to keep it clean by keeping it empty, he would be looked upon as a madman. So with the crib. So long as there are no oxen to use it, it can be kept empty and clean, but there is no use in having a crib unless it is put to its use.
+II. If men want wealth they must not mind the labour and trouble of getting it.+ This seems to be the idea of the proverb. A clean crib can be kept, if there are no oxen to use it; but without oxen, in Solomon's days (when wealth was chiefly gained by agriculture) there would be no increase. Many men would like to be rich, but they do not like the means by which alone they can obtain it. They would like to handle the golden coins, but they do not like to soil their fingers with honest toil to get it. They would like to gather in a harvest in the sunny autumn, but they do not like to plough and sow in the days of winter. They would like the increase which the ox would bring, but they do not like the trouble of cleaning his crib and caring for his wants. But this is not possible. The toil and the increase go together; the labour must come before the wealth, whether in relation to the body, the soul, or the spirit.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
In its liberal meaning a household proverb, "Labour has its rough unpleasant side, yet it ends in profit." But here, as elsewhere, there may be a meaning below the surface. The life of contemplation may seem purer, "cleaner," than the life of action. The outer business of the world brings its cares and disturbances, but also "much increase." There will be a sure reward of that activity in good works for him who goes, as with "the strength of the ox," to the task to which God calls him.--_Plumptre._
The literal sense of this verse seems to commend the care and pains of tillage. Or else we may take the words as shewing how the want of any needful instrument denieth the success of that which is desired, though other things be ready. But the words are more useful when taken by way of application. Wherefore, in God's tillage, for "we are God's husbandry" (1 Cor. iii. 9), the oxen are His ministers--they are, as Jerome speaketh, oxen that bear the yoke of the Lord after whose steps he that soweth seed is blessed; yea, God Himself is pleased to be joined in yoke with them, for they are labourers with God in His husbandry. They plough up the fallow ground by preaching and pressing repentance, they bring the corn into the barn by bringing home wandering sinners into the bosom of the Church; they tread out the grains from the chaff and straw by subduing the corruptions of nature, and separating it from the graces of God's Spirit. Now, where these oxen are wanting, there the room will be empty, swept and _clean_ for him to enter in, who quickly will fill it with the filth of the corruption of death. But, by the pains of the minister, much increase there is of corn in the field of the Lord--much increase is there of the seed of grace in the hearts of the people, and of the fruits of godliness in their lives.--_Jermin._
The ox is the most profitable of all the beasts used in husbandry. Except merely for _speed,_ he is almost in every respect superior to the horse. He is longer-lived, scarcely liable to disease, steady, lives, fattens, and maintains his strength on what a horse will not eat, and when he is worn out in labour his flesh is good for food, his horns useful, and his hide almost invaluable.--_A. Clarke._
For Homiletics on verse 5 see on chapter xii. 17, 19, page 274; also on verse 25 of this chapter.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The man not _walking in His levelness_ (see verse 2) shows by his staggering that he does not _"witness things correctly."_ (See Critical Notes for Miller's translation of this verse.) The grand truth is here broached that the man who _lies_ does not see correctly. This is a universal doctrine. Moreover, _lies_ stand for all sin. All sin, therefore, flows from being deceived. _A deep moral blindness is the source and measure of all possible transgression._ Several proverbs depend for their significance upon this meaning, a _"deceived"_ rather than a _deceiving "witness."--Miller._
He that for conscience sake doth speak the truth in common and small matters, he will also speak the truth in things of greater importance; and he that is not ashamed of a lie in his private dealing, he will also without shame bear false witness before a judge. Here, then, we be taught in the least things to ensure our tongues to speak the truth, so shall we be preserved from false-witness bearing, for the Lord would not have us daily with sin. . . . If we would not have Him punish our lesser frailties with greater sins--if we would not have Him punish our secret sins with open and notorious offences, then let us be afraid to tell a lie in the very lightest and most secret causes.--_Greenham._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 6.
SEEKING, BUT NOT FINDING.
+I. A contradictory character--a scorner in quest of wisdom.+ It would be strange to hear a man ask advice of a physician whose opinion he held in contempt, or to ask guidance of a traveller whose judgment and ability he despised. It would be obvious that the advice given or the rules laid down would not be followed. So a scorner, while he seeks wisdom, scorns the only method of becoming wise. He asks advice of those whom he despises, he inquires the way to wisdom, while he holds the road to it in utter contempt. The antithesis of the verse implies that he does not find wisdom because he lacks understanding--because he finds it above his comprehension. Two children may be equally ignorant of knowledge, but if one has the desire and the will to acquire it, and the other has not, what was hard to both at first will only continue hard to him who despises knowledge. So the scorner fails to find wisdom because he does not value it enough to make an effort to acquire it. The spirit in which he seeks is an effectual barrier against his finding.
+II. A man of teachable spirit is the only one who will ever find wisdom.+ The man of understanding knows its value, and therefore scorns neither it nor the means of attaining it. Therefore, to him "knowledge" becomes "easy." A clever man and a dull one may be pupils of the same master, but if the clever one thinks that he needs no instruction and the dull one feels his need, what was above the comprehension of both at first will become easy to the teachable scholar, while it will remain out of the reach of the self-sufficient one. Even a dull but willing pupil will learn faster than one who has intellectual ability, but lacks the docile spirit. A seeker of wisdom in any department of knowledge must become in relation to it as a child before his teacher; he must acknowledge his ignorance, and be willing to submit to the conditions of acquiring knowledge. The same spirit is indispensable for the attainment of moral wisdom. Those who would _learn_ of Christ must take his _yoke;_ those who would know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, must be willing to do His will (Matt. xi. 29; John vii. 17).
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
The Greeks sought after wisdom, but Christ crucified was foolishness to them. They were already too wise to admit of the preaching of the cross, and scorned a tent-maker who would inform them of new doctrines which had never entered into their own minds, and who would prove them by other methods than their favourite ones--eloquence and reasoning.--_Lawson._
There are two descriptions of scorners. There are "scorners" of _truth,_ from _pride of intellect;_ and there are "scorners" of _authority,_ from the _pride of self-will._ They are nearly allied, and they are frequently united. It is the former that is chiefly meant here, seeing the subject is _knowledge_ rather than _duty.--Wardlaw._
A page of Hebrew, what is it to a child? It is absolutely nothing. But the whole was easy to the Hebrew eye. _"A scorner has sought wisdom."_ Notice the past sense. Every scorner _has done_ it. Take any impenitent man. We may be sure some day or other he has sought spiritual intelligence. But he has done it selfishly. Moreover, he has done it fitfully and feebly. He has groped. He has made a sort of blind man's pass for knowledge, and has come back with the averment that there is no such thing. Light is _simple, "easy;"_ literally, _light_ as opposed to _heavy;_ light is obvious; nothing can be more so; but then, as the inspired man advises us, it is only _"easy"_ to the _"discerning,"_ or _"understanding,"_ man.--_Miller._
It is not by a one-sided action of the thinking power, but only by undivided consecration of the whole nature to God, which therefore involves, above all other things, a right relation of the spiritual nature to Him, that true knowledge in Divine things can be attained. The wise man, however, who has found the true beginning of wisdom, in bowing his inmost will before the Divine, not as something to be mastered by the understanding, but as something to be simply sought as a grace by the renunciation of the very self; he can easily on this ground, which God's own power makes productive, attain a rich development of the understanding.--_Elster._
Wisdom estrangeth herself from the scorner, as a gentlewoman hideth herself from a suitor whom she fancieth not. . . . As a loving spouse, when he cometh to the door, whom she affecteth, will show herself to him, and run to meet him, so the grace of God's spirit offereth itself, and draweth near unto the humble and modest.--_Muffet._
By knowledge we may understand, not the knowledge of the letter floating in the brain, and flowing even at the tongue's end (which, indeed, is not worth the name of knowledge); but the true understanding of the word taught by the Spirit, which entereth into the heart, and worketh on the affections, frameth to obedience, and assureth of everlasting life. This, indeed, is healthful knowledge, which the scorners, though they seek, shall never obtain. And hereunto doth our Saviour give witness, when He saith: _"Many shall seek to enter in, and cannot."--Greenham._
The finding of wisdom is that which needeth help from others. More eyes than the eyes of one are requisite unto it. And, therefore, a _scorner,_ who seeketh it with scorning of another's help; yea, who scorneth not only the help of man, but of God also, how can he ever find it? If it be offered to him by another, he will not accept it, and if he seek it never so much in his own ways he shall not obtain it. It is, says Clemens Alexandrinus, to draw out threads and to spin nothing; and, therefore, whensoever he shall stand in need of it, he shall not find it, for wisdom and a scorner shall never meet. But _to him that understandeth_ his own defects and infirmities, to him that understandeth how to make use of other men's abilities, and that in the seeking of wisdom, the assistance of God is chiefly to be sought, to him it is a short course to come to it; to him it is an easy matter to obtain it.--_Jermin._
It is the constant profession of those who read the Bible that they are seeking truth. Their likeness is taken here from life. They seek wisdom, but do not find it. They want the first qualification of a philosopher, a humble and teachable spirit. There is a race of men among us at the present day who scorn bitterly against faith's meek submission to God's revealed will. The divinity, they say, is in every man; which means that every man is a god unto himself. It is, in its essence, a reproduction of the oldest rebellion. A creature discontented with the place which his Maker has given him strives to make himself a god. If men really were independent beings, it would be right to assert and proclaim their independence; but as matters really stand, this desperate kicking against authority becomes the exposure of weakness, and the punishment of pride. We are not our own cause and our own end; we are not our own lords. We are in the hands of our Maker, and under the law of our Judge. Our only safety lies in the submission to the rightful authority and obedience to the true law. The problem for man is, not to reject all masters, but accept the rightful one. . . . In these days, when the pendulum is often seen swinging from scepticism over to superstition, and from superstition back to scepticism again, we would do well to remember that there is truth between these extremes, and that in truth alone lies safety for all the interests of men. . . . I see two men near each other prostrate on the ground and bleeding, while one man stands between them, with serenest aspect looking to the skies. Who and what are these? The two prostrate forms are superstition and unbelief. Superstition bowed down to worship his idol, and cut his flesh with stones to atone for his soul's sin. Unbelief scorned to be confined, like an inferior creature, to the earth, and was ever leaping up in the hope of standing on the stars. Exhausted by his efforts he fell, and the fall bruised him, so that he lay as low as the neighbour whom he despised. He who stands between them neither bowed himself to the ground, nor attempted to scale the heavens. He neither degraded himself beneath a man's place, nor attempted to raise himself above it. He abode on earth, but he stood erect there. He did not proudly profess to be, but meekly sought to find God. This man understands his place, and feels his need; to him, therefore, knowledge is easy. To him that hath shall be given. He has the beginning of wisdom, and he will reach in good time its glad consummation. "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom."--_Arnot._
There are _four_ things that particularly unfit a man for such a task (the finding of wisdom), viz., a very _proud,_ or a very _suspicious_ temper, _false wit_ or _sensuality._ The two last generally belong to the man whom we call a scorner, the first are essential to him and inseparable from him. . . . _Pride_ makes a man see sufficient in his own eyes for all manner of speculations and inquiries, and hence it comes that he, not being duly qualified for every search, is fain to take up with light and superficial accounts of things, and then, what he wants in true knowledge, to make up in downright assurance. By consequence it gives him just enough understanding to raise an objection, but not enough to lay it; which, as it is the most despicable, so it is also the most dangerous state of mind a man can be in. He that is but half a philosopher is in danger of being an atheist; a half physician is apt to turn empiric. In all matters of speculation or practice, he that knows but little of them, and is very confident of his own strength, is more out of the way of true knowledge than if he knows nothing at all. And in this character there is always a strange and unreasonable _suspicion,_ by which he doubts everything he hears, and distrusts every man he converses with. He is so afraid of having his understanding imposed upon in matters of faith that he stands aloof from all propositions of that kind, whether true or false. Which is, as if a man should refuse to receive any money because there is a great deal of counterfeit; or resolve not to make friendship with any man, because many are not to be trusted. A third part of a scorner's character is a _false wit,_ a way of ridiculing arguments instead of confuting them, and a _fourth_ is _sensuality._ That this, too, does for the most part accompany a contempt of religion, I appeal to the observation and experience of every man.--_Bp. Atterbury._
He seeks it as a coward seeks his adversary, with a hope that he shall not find him; or as a man seeks his false coin, which he hath no joy to look upon. "What is truth?" said Pilate in a jeer to Christ, but stayed not the answer. "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?" said the carnal Capernaites (John vi. 52), and away then went--who, if they had stayed out the sermon, might have been satisfied on the point. . . . He that comes to the fountain to fill his pitcher must first wash it, and then put the mouth of it downwards to take up water. So he that would have heavenly knowledge must first quit his heart of corrupt affections and high conceits, and then humble himself at God's feet, "everyone to receive His words" (Deut. xxxiii. 3).--_Trapp._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.--Verses_ 7-9.
THE FOOL AND THE PRUDENT MAN.
+I. How to know a fool.+ The dead carcase that is above ground is its own evidence. No one needs to inquire what it is, or where it is. The pestilential atmosphere which surrounds it tells its own tale. So a fool is a self-evidencing person. His words proclaim his character. He says nothing that is worth saying. Nothing that can enlighten a man's mind or better his nature is to be found in his conversation. "The lips of knowledge" are not with him. But there is not simply the absence of wisdom. He is not a negative character. No man's soul can remain like an empty house; if wisdom is absent sin comes in and takes up the abode. The _fool_ is also a _knave._ "The folly of fools is deceit," and in this also he will sooner or later be his own evidence. Like particles of poisonous matter, his _deceit,_ as well as his ignorance, will make its presence known. His words will sooner or later betray his untruthful character. He will also be known by his _profanity._ "Fools make a mock at sin." The most perfect beings in God's universe regard sin as a serious matter, knowing, as they do, the bitter fruits which spring from one sinful action. God Himself treats sin as a terrible and awful reality. Yet men are to be found who make light of it, and others so depraved as to laugh at that which God regards with abhorrence, and visits with retribution.
+II. How to treat a fool.+ "Go from the presence of a foolish man." There are three reasons why we go from the neighbourhood of a polluted and polluting carcase. First, its odour is offensive to us. Secondly, to linger near may generate disease in our bodies. Thirdly, being diseased ourselves, we may become an occasion of injury to others. So a man void of moral wisdom ought to be an offensive presence to every man. Our moral instincts ought to be strong enough without any outside voice to say, "Go from him." The "folly of a fool," being deceit, he is an incarnation of the devil; our own self-love should prompt us to quit his society. The man that mocks at sin is a generator of moral disease, we cannot be in his company without moral injury, and if we catch the pestilence ourselves we shall in turn infect others with the disease.
+III. What constitutes a prudent or morally wise man.+ He "understands his way." A fool cannot be said to have a _way_ or method of life any more than the leaf which is driven before the wind, or the timber that is floating down the rapid. Like them, he is the victim of circumstances; he is driven hither and thither by the currents of inclination or passion. He has no "way" to understand. He is as a cloud driven before the hurricane. He floats like a rudderless vessel upon the sea of life. But a prudent man has a _"way,"_ or method of life (see Homiletics on chap. xiii. 14), and the great business of his life is to "understand" it--to find the best means of bringing his life into conformity with that rule of righteousness which is his standard of life; to gather from the voice of God in revelation, in conscience, and in Providence what course he is to pursue, what at all times is the right thing to do, and what is the right way of doing it. This is the life-study of the man who is morally prudent, and the highest aim that a man can propose to himself is to attain to a right understanding of his way. (On the latter clause of verse 9 see Homiletics on chap. xiii. 14.)
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Verse 7. The path of sin is much more easily avoided than relinquished. We can far more easily keep out of the course of the stream than stem the torrent.--_Bridges._
Thou mayest tarry with a foolish man while he holdeth his peace, and while he is willing and patient to hear thee. For he may get knowledge by hearing, and thou mayest have comfort by speaking. But it is time to be gone when by his lips thou perceivest knowledge to be gone from them.--_Jermin._
In nature, some creatures are strong and bold, having both instincts and instruments for combat: other creatures are feeble but fleet. It is the intention of their Maker that they should seek safety, not in fighting, but in fleeing. It would be a fatal mistake if the hare, in a fit of bravery, should turn and face her pursuers. In the moral conflict of human life it is of great importance to judge rightly when we should fight and when we should flee. The weak might escape if they knew their own weakness, and kept out of harm's way. That courage is not a virtue which carries the feeble into the lion's jaws. I have known of some who ventured too far with the benevolent purpose of bringing a victim out, and were themselves sucked in and swallowed up. To go in among the foolish for the rescue of the sinking may be necessary, but it is dangerous work, and demands robust workmen. . . . The specific instruction recorded in Scripture for such a case is, "save with fear, pulling them out of the fire; hating even the garment spotted with the flesh" (Jude 23). He who would volunteer for this work must fear lest the victim perish ere he get him dragged out, and fear lest himself be scorched by the flame.--_Arnot._
Verse 8. We are not to infer, because _"wisdom"_ eludes the scorner, that it is, therefore, something mystic. It fits earth so closely, that it actually carves our _"way."_ Nay, more closely still, it is actually path-finding itself. She takes a man from her very gate, and tells him all that he must do. She not only discerns paths, but that is all of her; she does nothing else. "The wisdom of the subtle is the making discernible of his way," while, on the other hand, "the folly of the stupid is _(its own)_ delusion." All of us having a way, and all of us following it with the great energy of our lives, "The excellency and knowledge is, that wisdom giveth life to them that have it." Wisdom grasps its end; folly never. Wisdom is the great pathfinder; folly a "delusion."--_Miller._
Every man has a _final destination_ before him. The way of all is the way to the grave, and to eternity. But in that eternity are _two_ widely different states. To the opposite states there are _two_ ways--"the narrow," and "the broad." Oh the infinite value of true wisdom here,--the wisdom that understands both ways, and rightly chooses between! _The folly of fools is deceit_ may mean that the folly of fools proves to them deceit. Their confidence in it, and their expectations from it, are sheer delusion. Or the sense may be, "deceit is the folly of fools." "New stratagems," says Lord Bacon, "must be devised, the old failing and growing useless; and as soon as ever a man hath got the name of a cunning crafty companion, he hath deprived himself utterly of the principal instrument for the management of his affairs,--which is _trust._" Policy, therefore, on this as on other accounts, is _"the folly of fools."--Wardlaw._
When men are acquainted with everything but what they ought to know, they are only notable fools. If we had hearts large as the sands upon the sea-shore, and filled with a world of things, whilst we remained ignorant of the way of attaining true happiness, we should resemble that philosopher who was busied gazing at the moon till he fell into the ditch. . . . They are fools who know other people's business better than their own. Some people, if you will take their own word for it, could reign better than the king and preach better than the minister. They know, in short, how to manage in every condition but their own.--_Lawson._
Religion is an orderly thing, as wise as it is warm. Whatever be the excitement of an irregular course, more good is done by steady consistency. To break the ranks in disorder, to be eager to _understand_ our neighbour's way (John xxi. 21, 22), obscures the light upon our own. The true _wisdom is to understand_ what belongs to us personally and relatively (1 Kings iii. 6-9; Eccles. viii. 5). "As God hath distributed to every man, so let him walk, and abide with God" (1 Cor. viii. 17). Let the eye do the work of the eye, and the hand of the hand. If Moses prayed in the mount, and Joshua fought in the valley (Exod. xvii. 10, 11), it was not because one was deficient in courage, and the other in prayer; but because each had his appointed work, and _understood his own way.--Bridges._
Every one that goeth on in the right way doth not _understand_ his way. Hence it is that many so often wander out of it, hence that so easily they are drawn from it. But he that is prudent looketh into his way, considereth the dangers of it, provideth himself against the enemies that he shall or may meet with, and being well assured of the righteousness of the way, he goeth on with confidence and safety. And this is _the wisdom of the prudent,_ this proves him to be wise. . . . Again, the folly of fools, though it be folly in themselves, it is deceit to the devil, who maketh them to think that to be the right way, wherein they are clean out of the way.--_Jermin._
Verse 9. The word here used signifieth both the fault and the guilt of it, whereby the offender is liable unto wrath and punishment. For they being firmly joined together, the Hebrew joineth them in the same word. Notwithstanding fools not finding the scourge of sin tied immediately unto the act committed, as if they were mocked when they are told of punishment to come, they make a mock at it. The favour, therefore, which the righteous show them is quickly to make them feel the rod of justice. For while they punish the offence they show great love to the offender, not only in stopping the course of his sinning, which is the stopping the increase of his misery, but it may be also working his amendment, which is the salvation of his soul.--_Jermin._
The idea of sacrificial offering is that of expiation (see Critical Notes for the renderings of the word translated sin): it is a penitential work, it falls under the prevailing point of view of an ecclesiastical punishment, a _satisfaction_ in a church-disciplinary sense. The forgiveness of sin is conditioned by this, (1) that the sinner either abundantly makes good by restitution the injury inflicted on another, or in some other way bears temporal punishment for it, and (2) that he willingly presents the sacrifice of rams or of sheep, the value of which the priest has to determine in its relation to the offence. Fools fall from one offence to another, which they have to atone for by the presentation of sacrificial offerings; the sacrificial offering mocketh them, for it equally derides them on account of the self-inflicted loss, and on account of the errors with which they must make good the effects of their frivolity and madness; while on the contrary, among men of upright character, a relation of mutual favour prevails, which does not permit that the one give to the other an indemnity, and apply the trespass-offering.--_Delitzsch._
_"Sin makes a mock at fools; but between upright beings there is favour."_ Not makes sport, as a fool might, of engaging in his sins. A fool may _make sport_ of sin, but hardly could be said to make a mock at it. "Sin makes a mock at fools," but between "upright beings," or "among the righteous," we cannot conceive of any mockery. The upright God, and the upright saint; the upright saint and the upright Saviour; grace and judgment; faith, and the scenes of the last day; between these there must be _goodwill, i.e.,_ mutual delight and favour. So 1 John iv. 17, 18, "Herein does the love gain its end between us (that is, between God and us; see ver. 16), that we may have boldness in the day of judgment; _because as He is, so are we in this world,_" etc.--_Miller._
Among the righteous is favour; that is to say, the practice of virtue and uttering of gracious speeches, joined with such goodwill and sweet joy as their meeting is like the precious ointment that was poured on the head of Aaron.--_Muffet._
The conduct of the man who makes a mock at sin involves--1. _Impiety._ To mock at sin is to despise God's holiness, set at nought God's authority, to abuse God's goodness, to disregard and slight God's glory. 2. _Cruelty._ The scoffer may pretend to humanity, but there breathes not on earth a more iron-hearted monster. He may profess to feel for the miseries of mankind; for the ravages of disease and death over their bodies; of fire, and flood, and storm over their means of life and comfort; of melancholy, and idiocy, and madness over their minds. But he makes a mock at the prolific _cause_ of all. There is not an ill that man is called upon to suffer that does not owe its origin to sin. Like the "star called wormwood" in the Apocalyptic vision, it has fallen on very "fountain and river" of human joy, turning all their waters into bitterness. It is the sting of conscience. It is the venom and barb of the darts of the King of Terrors. It is the very life of the "worm that dieth not." Oh! the miserably-mistaken flattery that can speak of the kind-heartedness of the man who laughs at that which is the embryo-germ of all the sufferings of time, and all the woes of eternity. 3. _Infatuation._ Sin is the evil that is ruining the sinner himself--the disease that is preying upon his own vitals--the secret consuming fire that is wasting his eternal all. Yet the deluded victim of its power makes a jest of it!--_Wardlaw._
Some men are so like their father, the devil, that they will tempt men to sin that they may laugh at them.--_Lawson._
To complete the antithesis, the sense must be supplied, fools make a mock at sin (and so incur the wrath of God); but (the righteous regard sin as a serious offence), and therefore among the righteous there is the favour of God.--_Fausset._
_The fools' sport--sin._ 1. _Sin,_ which is so contrary to goodness that it is abhorred of those sparks and cinders which the rust of sin hath not quite eaten out of our nature as the creation left it. 2. _Sin,_ which sensibly brings on present judgments, or if not, is the more fearful. The less it receives here, the more is behind. 3. _Sin,_ that shall at last be laid heavy on the conscience: the lighter the burden was at first, it shall be at last the more ponderous. The wicked conscience may for awhile lie asleep, but this calm is the greatest storm. 4. _Sin,_ which provokes God to anger. 5. _Sin,_ which was punished even in heaven. 6. _Sin,_ which God so loathed that he could not save men because of it, except by the death of His own Son. Oh, think if ever man felt sorrow like Him, or if He felt any sorrow except for sin. Did the pressure of it lie so heavy upon the Son of God, and doth a son of man make light of it? Thou mocked at thy oppressions, oaths, frauds; for these He groaned. Thou scornest His gospel preached; He wept for thy scorn. Thou knowest not, O fool, the price of sin; thou must do, if thy Saviour did not for thee. If He suffered not this for thee, thou must suffer it for thyself.--_T. Adams._
They dance with the devil all day, and yet think to sup with Christ. Their sweet meat must have sour sauce, but among the righteous, though they sin of infirmity, yet forasmuch as they are sensible of and sorrowful for their failings, and see them to confession, God will never see them to their confusion.--_Trapp._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 10.
SECRETS OF THE HEART.
+I. Opposite dwellers in the same spirit.+ "Bitterness" and "joy." The world without us is a type of the world within us. In the world of matter the bitter cold, the desolations of winter, alternates with the brightness and joyous fruitfulness of summer. On the same globe we have at the same time the vine-clad regions of southern latitudes, and the dreary shores of arctic regions. Bitterness in the human spirit is a fact of human consciousness, and so is joy. There are few hearts that have not been at different times possessed by both. There are few in which there does not dwell at the same time a root of gladness and a root of sadness.
+II. A possession which its possessor may keep a profound secret.+ It is within the power of a human soul to keep his sorrow or his joy to himself if he so pleases, and under certain conditions this is a desirable thing to do. A man or woman often finds himself or herself surrounded by those who are entire strangers to the circumstances, or the persons, or the experiences which have given birth to the sorrow or the joy. To speak of it to such would be worse than useless. It is a comfort in such circumstances to be able to lock the secret within one's own breast. There is a consolation in sorrow, and a sense of increase of joy in not being compelled to lay open our feelings to the inspection of the unsympathetic. There are also sorrows of such a nature as to be entirely beyond the power of the tenderest human love to alleviate. To conceal such from all human ken is a kindness to those who love us. We should inflict sorrow upon them without lightening our own burden; and if we are unselfish, we are glad that it is possible in such a case to keep our bitterness within our own breast.
+III. There is One who possesses the secret even more truly than the human possessor, and who should always be invited to intermeddle with our sorrow or our joy.+ 1. _We should invite God to intermeddle, because we can do so in the strictest secrecy of the soul._ It may be impossible sometimes to put into words our joy or our sorrow, and therefore no human being, even the nearest and dearest, _can always_ "intermeddle" with our deep emotions. But the _thought_ is _speech_ to God. He "knoweth what is in the mind of the spirit." 2. _Because God's "intermeddling" will bring softening to our bitterness and refinement to our joy._ He "knew the sorrows" of Israel in their bitter bondage (Exod. iii. 7). He sent His Son to "bind up the broken-hearted" (Isa. lxi. 1). That Son Himself has known a bitterness that is unknowable by any creature. And as He can lighten sorrow so He can refine and increase joy.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Within the range of human experience there is, perhaps, no expression of the ultimate solitude of each man's soul at all times, and not merely (as in Pascal's _Je mourrai seul_) at the hour of death, so striking in its truth and depth as this. Something there is in every sorrow, and in every joy, which no one else can share. Beyond that range it is well to remember that there is a Divine sympathy, uniting perfect knowledge and perfect love.--_Plumptre._
The first half of this proverb treats of life experiences which are too complex a nature to be capable of being fully represented to others, and, as we are wont to say, of so delicate a nature that we shrink from uncovering them and making them known to others, and which, on this account, must be kept shut up in our own hearts, because no man is so near to us, or has so fully gained our confidence, that we have the desire and the courage to pour out our hearts to him from the very depths. If we were to interpret the second clause as _prohibitive_ (see Critical Notes), then this would stand in opposition, certainly not intended, to the exhortation (Rom.