ii. 17), and thus prove Himself to be pre-eminently the "Brother born
for adversity," and the "Friend that sticketh closer than a brother."
+IV. It is an evidence of great folly to treat men as bosom-friends before we know them.+ There are men who will trust in a comparative stranger to such an extent as to lend their credit and their good name to him without any reasonable security. Such a man Solomon here characterises as being "void of understanding." It is a mark of a fool to enter into any engagement without deliberation, and in nothing does lack of wisdom more plainly manifest itself than in the formation of hasty friendships, especially if the friendship involves a man in any kind of suretyship. From lack of prudence in this matter many a man has been "all his lifetime subject to bondage." It behoves all men in the matter of friendship to follow the advice of Polonius:--
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade.
_ILLUSTRATION OF TRUE FRIENDSHIP._
Damon was sentenced to die on a certain day, and sought permission of Dionysius of Syracuse to visit his family in the interim. It was granted on condition of securing a hostage for himself. Pythias heard of it, and volunteered to stand in his friend's place. The king visited him in prison, and conversed with him about the motive of his conduct, affirming his disbelief in the influence of friendship. Pythias expressed his wish to die, that his friend's honour might be vindicated. He prayed the gods to delay the return of Damon till after his own execution in his stead. The fatal day arrived. Dionysius sat on a moving throne drawn by six white horses. Pythias mounted the scaffold and thus addressed the spectators, "My prayer is heard; the gods are propitious, for the winds have been contrary till yesterday. Damon could not come, he could not conquer impossibilities; he will be here to-morrow, and the blood that is shed to-day shall have ransomed the life of my friend. Could I erase from your bosoms every mean suspicion of the honour of Damon, I should go to my death as I should to my bridal.". . . As he closed a voice in the distance cried, "Stop the execution!" and the cry was taken up and repeated by the whole assembly. A man rode up at full speed, mounted the scaffold, and embraced Pythias, crying, "You are safe now, my beloved friend! I have nothing but death to suffer, and am delivered from reproaches for having endangered a life so much dearer than my own." Pythias replied, "Fatal haste, cruel impatience! What envious powers have wrought impossibilities in your favour? But I will not be wholly disappointed. Since I cannot die to save you, I will not survive you." The king was moved to tears, and, ascending the scaffold, cried, "Live, live, ye incomparable pair! Ye have borne unquestionable testimony to the existence of virtue, and that virtue equally evinces the existence of a god to reward it. Live happy, live renowned, and oh! form me by your precepts, as ye have invited me by your example, to be worthy of the participation of so sacred a friendship."
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Verse 17. _"The Friend."_ We are to notice the article. It does not impair the proverb for its secular use. We have such an idiom: _"the friend," i.e., the true friend._ Even a worldly friend, to be worth anything, must be for all times; and what is a brother born for, but for distress? But spiritually, the article is just in its place. There is but One Only _"Friend,"_ and a _"Brother"_ who would not have been _"born"_ at all, but for the distress and straitness of His house.--_Miller._
Friendship contrasted with the wicked decreases from hour to hour, like the early shadow of the morning; but friendship formed with the virtuous will increase like the shadow of evening, till the sun of life shall set.--_Herder._
Extremity distinguisheth friends. Worldly pleasures, like physicians, give us over, when once we lie-a-dying; and yet the death-bed hath most need of comforts. Christ Jesus standeth by His in the pangs of death, and after death at the bar of judgment; not leaving them either in their bed or grave. I will use them, therefore, to my best advantage; not trust them. But for Thee, O my Lord, which in mercy and truth canst not fail me, who I have found ever faithful and present in all extremities, kill me, yet will I trust in Thee.--_Bp. Hall._
A friend shares my sorrow and makes it but a moiety; but He swells my joy and makes it double. For so two channels divide the river and lessen it into rivulets and make it fordable, and apt to drink up at the first revels of the Syrian star; but two torches do not divide, but increase the flame. And though my tears are the sooner dried up when they run on my friend's cheek in furrows of compassion; yet when my flame has kindled his lamp, we unite the glories, and make them radiant, like the golden candlesticks that burn before the throne of God; because they shine by numbers, by unions, and confederations of light and joy.--_Jeremy Taylor._
When a man blind from his birth was asked what he thought the sun was like, he replied, "Like friendship." He could not conceive of anything as more fitting as a similitude for what he had been taught to regard as the most glorious of material objects, and whose quickening and exhilarating influences he had rejoiced to feel.--_Morris._
A brother for adversity is one who will act the brother in a season of adversity. Of such an one it is said, _he must or shall be born,_ possibly, _he is born._ I do not understand this last clause unless the assertion is, that none but such as are _born brethren, i.e.,_ kindred by blood, will cleave to us in distress. Yet this is true only in a qualified sense. But another shade of meaning may be assigned to the passage, which is, that such a man as a friend in adversity _is yet to be born, i.e.,_ none such are now to be found; thus making it substantially equivalent in sense to the expression: "How few and rare are such faithful friends."--_Stuart._
As in the natural, so in the spiritual brotherhood, misery breeds unity. Ridley and Hooper, that when they were bishops, differed so much about ceremonies, could agree well enough, and be mutual comforts one to another when they were both prisoners. Esther concealed her kindred in hard times, but God's people cannot; Moses must rescue his beaten brother out of the hand of the Egyptian, though he venture his life by it.--_Trapp._
Man in his weakness needs a steady friend, and God in His wisdom has provided one in the constitution of nature. Not entrusting all to acquired friendship, He has given us some as a birthright inheritance. For the day of adversity a brother is born to many who would not have been able to win one. It is at once a glory to God in the highest, and a sweet solace to afflicted men, when a brother or a sister, under the secret and steady impulses of nature, bears and does for the distressed what no other friend, however loving, could be expected to bear or do. How foolish for themselves are those who lightly snap those bonds asunder, or touch them oft with the corrosive drops of contention! One who is born your brother is best fitted to be your friend in trouble, if unnatural strife has not rent asunder those whom their Maker intended to be one in spirit. . . . _"There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother."_ He must be a fast friend indeed, for a brother, if nature's affections have been cherished, lies close in, and keeps a steady hold. . . . Oh, when hindering things are taken out of the way of God's work, a brother lies very close to a brother. He who comes closer must be no common friend. . . . It is the idea of a friendship more perfect, fitting more kindly into our necessities, and bearing more patiently with our weaknesses, than the instinctive love of a brother by birth. From God's hand-work in nature a very tender and a very strong friendship proceeds: from His covenant of mercy comes a friendship tenderer and stronger still. Now, although the conception is embodied in the communion of saints, its full realisation is only found in the love wherewith Christ loves His own. . . . The precious germ which Solomon's words unfold, bore its ripened fruit only when He who is bone of our bone gave Himself the just for the unjust. Thus by a surer process than verbal criticism, we are conducted to the man Christ Jesus, as at once the Brother born for adversity, and the Friend that sticketh closer than a brother. . . . In the day of your deepest adversity even a born brother must let go his hold. That extremity is the opportunity of your best friend.--_Arnot._
Verse 18. It is good to try him whom we intend for a bosom friend before we trust him; as men prove their vessels with water before they fill them with wine. Many complain of the treachery of their friends, and say, with Queen Elizabeth, that in trust they have found treason; but most of these have greatest cause, if all things be duly weighed, to complain of themselves for making no better choice.--_Swinnock._
Seeing he hath not understanding to keep himself from hurt, it were good if he had not power in his hand to do himself hurt. . . . Surely such a fool may quickly wring his hands together in sorrow, who before did clap his hands in joy, and may strike himself in anger with the same hand, wherewith in the foolish kindness of surety he struck the hand of another. . . . For often this over-kind part of a friend is the breaking of friendship if it bring no further mischief.--_Jermin._
The evil effects of _strife_ and _pride,_ which form the subject of verse 19, have been treated before. See on verse 14, and on chaps. xi. 2, and xvi. 18. Some expositors attach a slight difference to the meaning of the latter clause. See below.
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
_"Sets high_ (exalteth) _his gate;"_ a figure that is probably misunderstood. It probably means _belligerence._ A moat over which issued armed bands, with banners and mounted spearmen, required high space to let them go forth. "Lift up your heads, O ye gates," etc. The soul that fixes itself that way against the Almighty, ready to march out upon Him on any occasion of quarrel, _"seeks"_ ruin.--_Miller._
The slothful man exposes himself to misery; but he waits for it till it comes upon him like a traveller. The aspiring man, that cannot be happy without a stately dwelling, and a splendid manner of living beyond what his estate will bear, _seeks_ for destruction, and sends a coach and six to bring it to him.--_Lawson._
_"And he that exalteth his gate seeketh destruction."_ Some take this for a comparison:--As surely as he that exalteth his gate (enlarging it out of due proportion) seeketh destruction to his house, by thus weakening its structure,--_so surely_ does he that loveth strife generate transgression. The phrase _"exalteth his gate,"_ however, instead of being thus understood literally, may, with more propriety, be interpreted of a man's _ambitiously affecting a style of living beyond his income_--disproportionate to the amount of his means of maintaining it. The _general character_ is described by one particular manifestation of it--the high style of the exterior of his mansion. The "exalting of the _gate_" applies to the entire style of his household establishment--not to his dwelling merely, but to his equipage, his table, his servants, his dress, and everything else. He who does this _"seeks destruction:"_ he courts his own downfall, as effectually as if it were his direct object to ruin himself. Matthew Henry, in his own quaint and pithy way, says--"He makes his gate so large, that his house and estate go out at it."--_Wardlaw._
There is none that loveth strife more than he that _exalteth his gate,_ either the gate of his ears to hear the tales of others, and the praises of himself, or else the gates of his eyes overlooking others with scorn and disdain, and his own worth by many degrees, or else the gate of his mouth, which is properly the gate of man, with big and swelling words, with high and lofty terms which usually are the sparks that kindle contention. But what doth such an one do, but ever _seek for destruction,_ which at his lifted-up gate, findeth easy passage to run in upon him.--_Jermin._
For Homiletics on the subjects of verses 20 and 21, see on chapter x. 1, 13, 14, etc., and on verse 24.
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 22.
THE MERRY HEART.
+I. The mind acts upon the body.+ It is a fact which no observant man would deny, that there is an intimate connection between sorrow of soul and sickness of body, and that cheerfulness of spirit tends to physical health. A physician always tries to keep his patient in good spirits, and when he discerns that he is weighed down by some mental burden, he wisely seeks to lighten that as well as to administer remedies to the body. And when a man is in health cheerfulness of disposition tends to keep him so; while a depressed condition of mind makes him a more easy prey to disease. That "a merry heart doeth good like a medicine, but a broken spirit drieth the bones," is a convincing proof of the mysterious sympathy that exists between the _man_ and his _earthly dwelling-place._
+II. What will conduce to cheerfulness of spirit--to what Solomon here calls "a merry heart?"+ 1. _A heart at peace with God._ Some poisons taken into the system produce for a time a calming and quieting influence upon the body, but it is a quiet and a calm which comes from deadening the capabilities of feeling. Opium may send a man to sleep, but it is a sleep which gives neither refreshment nor strength. A quiet conscience is the first and indispensable element of heart-cheerfulness, and there are other methods of getting free for a time from pain of conscience beside "that peace with God which comes from being justified by faith" (Rom. v. 1). But all other quiet of soul comes from opiates whose power is but for a time, while this peace comes from the consciousness of reconciliation with God--from a sense of standing in a right relation to all that is right and true in the universe. 2. _A vivid realisation of unseen realities._ Though a state of reconciliation with God will give freedom from the sense of guilt, it does not always give that active state of cheerfulness which can be called "a merry heart." A river sometimes glides along between its banks in a state of undisturbed calmness; but there are times when the volume of water is so great that it overflows its channels. Peace is like a calm river, but joy is like one whose waters cannot contain themselves within its boundaries, but must pour forth on the right hand and on the left. _Peace_ has been defined as "love resting," and joy as "love exulting." The one is a passive state of mind, while the other is active. But it is the latter, rather than the former, which makes that cheerful spirit which "doeth good like a medicine," and it is the fruit only of a vivid sense of "things not seen" (Heb. xi. 1). Those who live on high lands and breathe the pure mountain air, are conscious of an exuberance of animal life, of which even perfectly healthy people who live in the valleys know nothing. So, men who live in the higher regions of spiritual life know a "joy in God"--are sensible of an uplifting of spirit--to which ordinary and every-day Christians are strangers. They are not only _believers,_ but they are filled with "all joy and peace in believing;" they not only have "peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ," but they "rejoice in hope of the glory of God" (Rom. v. 1, 2). 3. _A life of active love._ A selfish man can never be a cheerful man--he who lives for himself alone can never know the healing power of "a merry heart." There can be no abiding cheerfulness of heart without joy in God, and there can be no abiding joy in God without love to man. "There is nothing," says _Dr. Maclaren,_ "more evanescent in its nature than the emotion of religious joy, faith, or the like, unless it be turned into a spring of action for God. Such emotions, like photographs, vanish from the heart unless they be fixed. Work for God is the way to fix them. Joy in God is the strength of work for God, but Work for God is the perpetuation of joy in God."
_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._
Mirth is short and transient, cheerfulness fixed and permanent. Those are often raised into the greatest transports of mirth who are subject to the greatest depressions of melancholy. On the contrary, cheerfulness, though it does not give the mind such an exquisite gladness, prevents us from falling into any depths of sorrow. Mirth is like a flash of lightning, that breaks through a gloom of clouds, and glitters for a moment; cheerfulness keeps up a kind of daylight in the mind. . . . Cheerfulness is the best promoter of health. Repinings and secret murmurs of heart give imperceptible strokes to those delicate fibres of which the vital parts are composed, and wear out the machine insensibly; not to mention those violent ferments which they stir upon the blood, and those irregular disturbed motions which they raise in the animal spirits. I scarce remember, in my own observation, to have met with many old men, or with such who (to use our English phrase) wear well, that had not at least a certain indolence in their humour, if not a more than ordinary gaiety and cheerfulness of heart. The truth is, health and cheerfulness mutually beget each other.--_Addison._
The verb means, _to cure,_ and, as far as we can fix it, the noun means, not a _medicine,_ but a final _"cure."_ In the world at large cheerfulness is an immense gift; but in religion the wise man wishes to say that hopefulness is strength (Neh. viii. 10); that it is better to look cheerfully upon God, than with complaints; that if we are to be _cured_ at all, a glad heart will help it.--_Miller._
All true mirth is from rectitude of the mind, from a right frame of soul. When faith hath once healed the conscience, and grace hath hushed the affections, and composed all within, so that there is a Sabbath of the spirit, and a blessed tranquility lodged in the soul, then the body also is vigorous and vegetous, for most part in very good plight and healthful constitution, which makes man's life very comfortable. . . . They that in the use of lawful means _wait on the Lord, shall renew their strength_ (Isa. ix. 31).--_Trapp._
_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 23.
BRIBERY.
+I. Its nature.+ An act of bribery may be committed without any monetary transaction taking place. It is not necessary that gold should pass from hand to hand to make a man guilty of bribery. It is not even necessary that there should be a distinct promise of any good either in the present or the future. A man bribes another if he merely implies by word or deed that he can make him suffer for speaking what he knows is the truth, and for acting according to the dictates of his conscience. And a man is guilty of accepting a bribe if he abstains from such speech or action from a fear of loss or from a hope of gain, although no distinct promise or threatening has been made by those whom he wishes to propitiate.
+II. Its cause.+ Want of integrity on the part of both the man who offers the bribe and him who accepts it. There are some men in the world to whom even a man who held their lives in his hand would not think of offering a bribe of any kind. He knows it would be as useless to attempt to make such men swerve from the path of right as to try to alter the course of the earth round the sun. There are many, we know, in this country, notwithstanding its many timeservers and place-hunters who, like Samuel of old can say, _"Whose ox have I taken, or whose ass have I taken, or who have I defrauded, who have I oppressed, or of whose hands have I received any bribe to blind mine eyes therewith?"_ (1 Sam. xii. 3). Only one thing is needed to destroy bribery--in its most impalpable and shadowy forms as well as in its more glaring and shameless manifestations--and that is universal honesty of character. When every man loves truth and right more than he loves material gain then bribery will cease, but not before. Men may be restrained by shame from being guilty of it openly, and will call it by some less obnoxious name, but the spirit of bribery will be at work so long as there are men upon the earth who love gain more than godliness.
+III. The universal testimony of the human conscience against it.+ "The wicked man taketh a gift _out of his bosom_"--it is a transaction of secrecy--there is a shame connected with the act which proves that conscience condemns it. The man who offers the bribe does not do it openly, which shows that he is fully conscious that he is transgressing the law of right; and the man who accepts it does not boast openly that he has done so for the same reason. Bribery is a sin which is repeatedly denounced by God (Isa. i. 23, 24; Ezra