" -A-- 

 
 POSTHUMOUS WORKS 
 
 KEY. RALPH WARDLAW, D.D. 
 
 KDITED BY HIS SON, 
 
 THE REV. J. S. WARDLAW, A.M. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 A. FULLART05 & CO.: 
 
 44 .SOUTH BRIDGE, EDINBURGH: 
 
 AND 115 NEWGATE STREET, LONDON. 
 
 UDCCCLXI.
 
 LEG T ORES 
 
 THE BOOK OF PROVERBS 
 
 KEY. RALPH WARPLAW, D.D. 
 
 EDITED BY HIS SON, 
 
 THE REV. J. S. WARDLAW, A.M. 
 
 A. FULLARTOX & CO.: 
 
 4-1, SOOTH BRIDGE, EDINBURGH; 
 ASD 115 NEWGATE STREET, LONi>O>.
 
 KULLAKTON AND MACNAH. l'HISTKR.3, LEITH TVALK.
 
 LECTURE XXXV, 
 
 PKOV. xiv. 25 31. 
 
 " A true witness delivereth souls: but a deceitful witness speaketh lies. In 
 the fear of the Lord is strong confidence; and his children shall have a place of 
 refuge. The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, to depart from the snares of 
 death. In the multitude of people is the king's honour : hut in the want of 
 people is the 'destruction of the prince. He that is slow to wrath is of great 
 understanding- but he that is hasty of spirit exalteth folly. A sound heart is 
 the life of the flesh : but envy the rottenness of the bones. He that oppresseth 
 the poor reproacheth his Maker: but he that honoureth him hath mercy on the 
 poor." 
 
 " A TRUE witness delivereth souls" The words might be 
 rendered with greater propriety, and wider comprehensive- 
 ness " a true witness saveth lives." But it may be said, 
 and said justly, that a faithful testimony does not always 
 save life. Such a testimony may evidently condemn a man 
 as well as acquit him. It depends entirely, not on the 
 fidelity of the witness, but on the facts of the case. If 
 the facts are criminatory, a true witness must tell them as 
 they are " the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the 
 truth," and the fault rests not with him that his testimony 
 warrants a sentence of condemnation. The duty of giving 
 such evidence may often be most painful; but the "true 
 witness" must submit to this: the truth must be told. And 
 while true testimony may condemn, false testimony may 
 acquit; while the former may destroy life, the latter may 
 save it. Many a time has a false and perjured witness 
 brought off a pannel that was guilty and deserved the pun- 
 ishment pronounced by the law against the offence charged. 
 
 II. A
 
 2 LECTURE XXXV. 
 
 It is probable, therefore, that the intended antithesis re- 
 lates, not so much to the actual fact of truth saving and 
 falsehood condemning, as to the dispositions and intentions 
 of the faithful witness on the one hand, and the lying wit- 
 ness on the other. The faithful witness delights in giving 
 testimony that will save life that will be salutary and 
 beneficial to his fellow-creatures. The lying witness will, in 
 general, be found actuated by a malevolent and wicked pur- 
 pose, having pleasure in giving testimony that will go to 
 condemn the object of his malice. The sentiment will thus 
 be, that truth is most generally found in union with Idnd- 
 ness of heart, and falsehood with malevolence. And this is 
 natural ; the former being both good, the latter both evil ; 
 falsehood more naturally akin to malice, and truth to love. 
 "A deceitful witness" is evidently not intended to be under- 
 stood of a witness who deceives for the good of others. 
 A man may occasionally deceive for such a purpose; but 
 this is the exception, not the rule. The deceitful man de- 
 ceives for his own advantage: while the man of truth 
 regards not the results, whether to others or to himself; 
 but, be they painful or pleasant, considers only what fidelity 
 and veracity demand of him : not things as he may wish 
 them, but things as they are* 
 
 Verse 26. "In the fear of the Lord is strong confidence: 
 and his children shall have a place of refuge." 
 
 He who fears God, according to the revelation He has 
 given of himself, may well have " strong confidence." That 
 in. which he confides is all infinite : the truth, the love, 
 the wisdom, the power of his covenant God! What con- 
 fidence shall be strong, if this is not strong? The God 
 whom he fears and loves (for in the Scripture sense he can- 
 not fear without loving) has given, in the name of his Son, 
 " exceeding great and precious promises ; " precious in 
 themselves, in the fulness of blessing, for time and for eter- 
 nity, which they contain; precious, as given by divine 
 fidelity; precious, as pledged and made sure of fulfilment 
 
 * Comp. chap. vi. 19; xii. 17; xiii. 5.
 
 PROVERBS XIV. 2531. 3 
 
 by all the resources of divine wisdom and divine power. 
 Whatever the love of God has induced Him graciously to 
 promise, no power or combination of powers in existence 
 can stay from being done. 
 
 The psalms abound with expressions of confidence, corre- 
 sponding with the phraseology of the latter part of the verse 
 " And his" (the Lord's) "children shall have a place of 
 refuge." This does not mean merely that God in His pro- 
 vidence will see to their protection and preservation in sea- 
 sons of danger and calamity true though that is, but that, 
 to them, as His children, HE HIMSELF will be "as a hiding- 
 place from the storm, and a covert from the tempest;" so 
 that they shall fully realize the security; and, in the enjoy- 
 ment of " perfect peace," say with the prophet, " The LORD 
 is good, a strong hold in the day of trouble; and he know- 
 eth them that trust in HIM," Nah. i. 7. 
 
 "What is before said (chap. xiii. 14.) of " the law of the 
 wise" is in next verse said of " the fear of the Lord." " The 
 fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, to depart from the 
 snares of death." 
 
 There is a perfect and beautiful harmony between the two. 
 " The law of the wise," is the great practical principle by 
 which their whole character is formed and their whole con- 
 duct regulated, and that principle is "the fear of the Lord." 
 And if the "law of the wise" be interpreted in the former 
 passage, more generally, of the divine word, which the 
 wise take as the " light of their feet and the lamp of their 
 path," the authoritative guide of all their ways, what, we 
 still ask anew, is the leading lesson of that very word ? Is it 
 not that the fear of the Lord is wisdom, and the beginning 
 of wisdom? Is not the very purpose of God's word to reveal 
 Him to guilty men in the appropriate character of the God 
 of their salvation? And is not the very purpose of the 
 manifestation of God's mercy to rectify the state of the 
 heart toward Him? Is there not "forgiveness with Him that 
 He may be feared ? " 
 
 Tow " this fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, to depart 
 from the snares of death." From these it effectually pre-
 
 4 LECTURE XXXV. 
 
 serves ; while they who have it not are " broken and 
 snared and taken" led astray to their destruction "en- 
 tangled and overcome." All the streams that flow from 
 this fear are streams of life waters of joy. And when the 
 principle is perfected above when every foreign and bitter 
 ingredient is separated from the fountain when all that is 
 impure is filtered out how sweet will be the waters! 
 The untainted fountain of holiness will then indeed prove 
 itself " a fountain of life" a spring of eternal and unmingled 
 blessedness. ! is not true religion, AVC again ask, 
 is not the "fear of the Lord" true wisdom? Would you 
 be wise prudently and practically wise wise as it respects 
 your own happiness? choose it for your law ; disown every 
 other; resist every interfering and counteracting influence, 
 every temptation to throw off its salutary dominion, and 
 say, with full determination of spirit " I FEAR GOD, AND 
 
 KNOW NO OTHER FEAJl!" 
 
 Verse 28. " In the multitude of people is the king's hon- 
 our: but in the want of people is the destruction of the 
 prince." 
 
 There is a natural tendency in the population of a country 
 to increase ; and, according to the estimates of some political 
 economists, (into the discussion of which it would be inconsis- 
 tent both with place and time to enter) to increase in a more 
 rapid ratio than the means of subsistence. When, therefore, 
 population, instead of thus increasing, diminishes, there must 
 be some cause or causes countencorking nature. The sub- 
 jects of the country may be wasted in destructive and de- 
 populating wars; they may be driven by oppression to 
 quit their native land, and to seek a refuge in other and dis- 
 tant regions; they may be starved and reduced by mea- 
 sures that are injurious and ruinous to trade, and especially 
 to the industry and comfort of the artisan measures that 
 keep up the price of bread, and depress the wages of labour ; 
 and may thus be necessitated to seek an easier and a more 
 abundant subsistence for themselves and their families, 
 elsewhere. 
 
 There may be circumstances in providence, let it bo
 
 PROVERBS XIV. 2531. 5 
 
 granted, over which no Government can exercise any control, 
 which may contribute to the production of similar results. 
 But no Government that is desirous of its only real stability 
 a thriving, vigorous, well-educated, happy, and loyal popu- 
 lation, will trifle with those laws which manifestly and 
 essentially tend either to its production on the one hand or 
 to its diminution and extermination on the other. Such a 
 population, as Solomon here teaches, is the glory and the 
 strength of every Government. Its existence is a mark of 
 freedom, of wise and impartial legislation, of paternal care; 
 and it is the palladium of all that is desirable in the re- 
 sults of human rule. It is the honour and the security of a 
 country. Such a population will be jealous of the liberties 
 and the blessings they enjoy, and will maintain, with una- 
 nimity of resolution and vigour, the throne and the laws 
 under which they are enjoyed. 
 
 On the contrary, in a thin, diminishing, scattered, dis- 
 couraged, and heartless people, whence is the power of pro- 
 tection and defence to come ? They can feel no interest and 
 no energy in repelling aggression, and protecting from injury 
 and hazard, that from which they derive so very little good. 
 Go where they will, they naturally think, the change cannot 
 be materially for the worse. There may, however, be circum- 
 stances, which, even in a free, thriving, and happy country, 
 may at times render the emigration of individuals and fami- 
 lies desirable ; and when those who take leave of their coun- 
 try itself go to the colonies, more or less distant, of that 
 country, they may still be regarded as belonging to "the 
 multitude of the people" the "king's honour." They re- 
 main among his subjects, and may contribute more to the 
 prosperity of the land they leave than they would have done 
 by remaining at home ; just as a man may do better for him- 
 self and family, and better contribute his little quota to the 
 prosperity of the community, by shifting his place and chang- 
 ing his occupation, within the country itself. 
 
 The prince who reigns over a numerous, thriving, con- 
 tented, and attached people, may be likened to the proprietor 
 of a vineyard where all is rich, flourishing, fruitful, produc-
 
 6 LECTURE XXXV. 
 
 tive ; thus fully rewarding his expense, time, and care, 
 bringing him at once credit and profit. Whereas the prince 
 who sways his sceptre over a draining, exhausted, and 
 dispirited people, is like the proprietor whose vineyard, for 
 want of cultivation and judicious management, becomes, in 
 its vines, stunted and sapless, and, in its soil, weedy, poor, 
 and sterile, at once his disgrace and his ruin. 
 
 The sentiment of the following verse is a kindred one to 
 that in verse seventeenth " He that is slow to wrath is of 
 great understanding : but he that is hasty of spirit exalteth 
 folly." The man whose resentments, instead of quickly 
 kindling are slow of excitement, may, by the men of the 
 world, be censured and despised, as tame and spiritless. But 
 after all, this self-command is true greatness of mind, 
 one of the marks of a powerful intellect. Hasty and violent 
 tempers make their subjects often both to say and do things 
 that cause subsequent regret and shame. Thus "he that is 
 hasty of spirit exalteth folly." He gives folly for the time 
 being the throne and sceptre of his mind, and fulfils her pre- 
 posterous and mischievous dictates. And when reason, for 
 the time deposed, resumes her vacated seat, she finds no easy 
 task before her to repair the evils which have been done 
 in the brief but stormy reign of passion. But the subject 
 has been already more than once before us. I dwell not on it. 
 
 Verse 30. "A sound heart is the life of the flesh: but 
 envy the rottenness of the bones." 
 
 The word sound signifies healthful; free from moral dis- 
 tempers the distempers of " the inner man : " such distem- 
 pers as discontent, malice, and envy. And here "a sound 
 heart" stands in constrast with a heart under the power of 
 the last of these. And the influence of each on the general 
 constitution, and even on the welfare of the body, is strongly 
 set forth. 
 
 Strictly speaking, "a sound heart" a heart entirely free 
 from the evil passions that belong to fallen nature is not 
 to be found. But in Scripture " a sound heart," and even " a 
 perfect heart," are phrases used to signify the real sincerity 
 and predominant rule of right principles and affections. Of
 
 PROVERBS XIV. 2531. 7 
 
 the corruption of human nature, to which I have referred, 
 the passions noticed are parts and modifications ; and of all 
 the malignant influences of which the heart can be the sub- 
 ject, that of "envy" is perhaps the most odious in itself, and 
 the most corroding, torturing, and wasting to the spirit of 
 which it takes possession. It is here called " the rottenness 
 of the bones" not a mere surface sore, but a deep-seated 
 disease ; like caries or inflammation, in the substance of the 
 bone itself. It burns and destroys inwardly. Its poor ago- 
 nized victim writhes in misery at every report that reaches 
 his ear of the success or prosperity of the object of liis mal- 
 evolence ; or even of the elevation and progress of others in 
 general. And the connexion is intimate between mind and 
 body, between the spirit and the tabernacle in which it 
 resides. They mutually affect each other. When such a 
 passion preys upon the heart, the body will sicken, pine, 
 and consume the appetite failing, and the flesh wasting 
 away. On the contrary, there is not a more effectual pre- 
 servative of the health and vigour of the physical frame, 
 than a contented and cheerful spirit, a spirit that shares 
 the happiness of all around, and makes every stream of en- 
 joyment that gladdens the heart of others tributary to the 
 river of its own pleasures. This, instead of rottenness, is 
 marrow to the bones. 
 
 Verse 31. "He that oppresseth the poor reproacheth his 
 Maker : but he that honoureth him hath mercy on the poor." 
 We had a similar sentiment before us in last lecture. I 
 then mentioned, amongst other views of the sin, that scorn 
 of the poor was contempt of the appointments of divine 
 providence. The idea here corresponds with this. 
 
 " Oppression" however, is something more than contempt 
 or neglect. It is the using of superiority and power with 
 rigour and severity; taking advantage of the dependence of 
 the poor to "grind their faces;" exacting their hard toil for 
 an inadequate compensation; adding to their work, and 
 screwing down their wages ; making necessity on their part 
 the reason, not for treating them gently, but for dealing 
 hardly and cruelly by them.
 
 8 LECTURE XXXV. 
 
 He who acts such a part to the poor, " reproacheth his 
 Maker." For first, he acts as if the poor were of another 
 species an inferior order of beings; whereas they have all 
 the attributes of the same manhood with him by whom they 
 are contemned. It is kindred blood that flows in the 
 veins of both; their constitution of soul and body is the 
 same; their sensibilities are the same; the sources of their 
 joys and sorrows, their pains and pleasures are the same ; 
 their eternal destinies are the same ; their ruin by sin is a 
 common ruin, the salvation provided for them by Christ 
 a common salvation. And further, because he acts as if 
 the circumstances in which the poor had been placed by 
 his Maker were a warrant for him to imitate the divine 
 conduct, and to depress them still further; which is a re- 
 proach of God, as if He dealt with the poor in the spirit of 
 unkindiiess and partiality, and meant His own dealings as a 
 signal for fellow-creatures to withhold good and to inflict 
 evil, instead of intending to present occasions for the exer- 
 cise of the very opposite dispositions and conduct. 
 
 On the contrary "he that honoureth him" that is, 
 God, " hath mercy on the poor" The inverse of course holds 
 that he who " hath mercy on the poor honoureth God." 
 And yet, perhaps, this may be questioned, unless duly ex- 
 plained and guarded. A man may have mercy on the poor 
 who does not "honour God." Humanity may, and often 
 does, exist without godliness. But godliness cannot exist 
 without humanity. No man can honour God without " hav- 
 ing mercy on the poor : " and it will be well for both de- 
 scriptions of persons to examine themselves. The humane 
 and merciful man should examine, whether he has any con- 
 sideration of the glory of God in what he is doing; 
 whether his benevolence springs at all from, or has any 
 connexion with, piety: and the professedly pious and 
 godly, those who say they have the glory of God at heart, 
 do well to reflect whether this be one of the ways in which 
 their regard for God's glory manifests itself. 
 
 Jesus who of all that ever lived on earth honoured God 
 most, showed most of mercy to the poor. This was prophe-
 
 PROVERBS XIV. 2531. & 
 
 sied of him;* and the prophecy was amply verified in his 
 entire life on earth. The poor were ever around him. He 
 was ever dispensing to them temporal good, and ever vouch- 
 safing to them his gracious and saving instructions.. It was 
 at once the delight of his heart, and one of the proofs of his 
 Messiahship, to be able to say, in connexion with the enu- 
 meration of his miraculous works " And to the poor the 
 gospel is preached." He, therefore, who most imitates Mm, 
 most honours God; for him God "delighteth to honour," 
 and delighteth to see honoured ; and those who most resemble 
 him will have most of God's blessing. 
 
 Let me close by remarking that they do not imitate aright 
 either Jesus or the Father that sent him, who confine their 
 imitation to mere outward, present, temporal good. Vast 
 was the amount of such good scattered around him by Jesus 
 when on earth ; but riot for that purpose did he come from 
 heaven. He had a higher errand. That errand was salva- 
 tion. Men were spiritually poor destitute for eternity ; and 
 herein is the signal " grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, 
 though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, that we 
 through his poverty might be rich," not rich in the wealth 
 of this world, but rich in spiritual blessings, rich in the 
 divine favour, rich in the promises of God's covenant, rich as 
 heirs of " the better country, even the heavenly," rich in GOD 
 HIMSELF. Do you pity, then, the spiritual destitution of man- 
 kind?- Do you seek to relieve and supply their wants? 
 Otherwise you honour not God. You cfehonour Him. You 
 are not of one ruind either with Him or with his Son. It was 
 to provide for the wants and woes spiritual and eternal of 
 mankind, that the whole scheme of the mediation of Christ 
 was devised and carried out. And if, professing to pity the 
 poor, you confine your mercy to their temporal condition, you 
 are really "reproaching their Maker" reproaching Him as 
 having done a needless thing, as having expended an im- 
 mense amount of the most marvellous means, for accom- 
 plishing an end which you do not think it worth your while 
 
 * Coinp. Psal. Ixxii. 4, 1214.
 
 10 LECTURE XXXV. 
 
 to mind, either for yourselves or for others. Your benevo- 
 lence is spurious. It is not the benevolence of GOD. It is 
 not the benevolence of CHRIST. It is not the benevolence of 
 wisdom or prudence. It is the benevolence of the physician, 
 who should expend all his care and skill on the binding up 
 of a bruised finger, while he left a deadly malignant distem- 
 per preying unheeded on the very vitals. If you honour 
 God, you will act as God acts. The souls and eternal inter- 
 ests of men will be highest in your estimate, and first in 
 your attention. To make men "rich toward God" will be 
 your chief concern. And to those who mind their temporal 
 interests, while they overlook those that are spiritual and 
 eternal, we would say, in the terms of Jesus on another sub- 
 ject " This ought ye to have done, and not to leave the 
 other undone." If you would honour God, you must seek 
 to fill this impoverished world with " the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ."
 
 LECTURE XXXVI 
 
 Puov. xiv. 32 35. 
 
 "The wicked is driven away in his wickedness: but the righteous hath hope 
 in his death. Wisdom resteth in the heart of him that hath understanding: 
 hut that which is in the midst of fools is made known. Righteousness exalteth 
 a nation : but sin is a reproach to any people. The king's favour is toward a 
 wise servant: but his wrath is against him that causeth shame." 
 
 THE first of these verses might be specially applied to the 
 characters in the verse preceding on the one hand, the 
 unmerciful oppressor who has for a time succeeded in his 
 schemes of rapacity and iron-hearted avarice, and the mer- 
 ciful man on the other, who, under the influence of the prin- 
 ciples of faith and love, has honoured the Lord in the 
 exercise of compassionate kindness. 
 
 We take the verse, however, in application to the righ- 
 teous and the wicked generally. When it is said of the 
 latter " The wicked is driven away in his wickedness," the 
 contrast in the close of the verse shows to what period the 
 words refer. It is to the time of death. And the con- 
 trast, though briefly stated, is very striking. The two char- 
 acters are brought, as it were, to the verge of eternity. Of 
 one the whole heart, in all its affections and desires, has be- 
 longed to the present world. He has lived in the pleasures 
 of sin, " without God," neglecting the salvation of his soul, 
 and in utter destitution of any well-founded hope for futurity. 
 His heart fails him. Conscience sets his sins in dread array 
 before him. Imagination, stimulated by conscience, anticipates 
 the terrors of a coming judgment the vengeance of a holy
 
 !> LECTURE XXXVI. 
 
 God. Yet his heart is still carnal, hard, unyielding; his 
 iniquities are unreperited; his evil lusts and habits remain 
 in their full force. How he clings to life ! what a death- 
 grasp he keeps of this world ! Unprepared for the world be- 
 yond, he shrinks back from it ; he dares not look into it. 
 what would he give what would he not give for a little 
 longer lease of time ! for but a year, a month, a week, a day ! 
 But go he must. It is anything but willingly. He goes by 
 force. He is "driven away in his wickedness" compelled 
 to quit his hold of the world, and hurried into eternity. 
 
 " But the righteous hath hope in his death." He is not 
 driven away. The world that is before him, and on which 
 he is about to enter, has been anticipated by him. It is not 
 strange to his mind. It is his country; it is his home. 
 The present world he has not regarded as his world, the 
 world to which he belongs. The next is properly his the 
 place of his future and eternal settlement. While here, he 
 is a stranger and foreigner, staying only for a short season, 
 and journeying towards his destined abode. The world to 
 which his hope looks forward has attractions far superior 
 to that in which he now dwells. Not that he is insen- 
 sible to tender and strong attachments drawing and bind- 
 ing him to the scene he is about to leave. He loves 
 his friends ; his wife and children are dear to his heart ; and 
 so are father and mother, brothers and sisters; and fel- 
 low-Christians, one with him in the communion of saints; 
 with whom he has "taken sweet counsel," "walking with 
 them to the house of God in company:" and he feels at the 
 thought of leaving them. But he has friends in heaven too 
 earthly friends who have gone thither before him patri- 
 archs, prophets, apostles, martyrs all the saints of God from 
 Abel to himself; and above all, his best, his divine friend. 
 And there too are better, and higher, and purer blessings 
 the sinless perfection of those which he has tasted and 
 learned to relish here below. And then, with regard to all 
 in whom he is interested on earth, he has a covenant God in 
 whose hands he can leave them with firm and steadfast 
 faith, the Living faith of a dying hour, and sing
 
 PROVERBS XIV. 3235. 13 
 
 " Ye fleeting charms of earth, farewell, 
 
 Your springs of joy are dry: 
 My soul now seeks another home, 
 A brighter world on high. 
 
 Farewell, ye friends, whose tender care 
 
 Has long engaged my love : 
 Your fond embrace I now exchange 
 
 For better friends above! 
 
 Cheerful I leave this vale of tears, 
 
 Where pains and sorrows grow; 
 Welcome the day that ends my toil, 
 
 And every scene of woe ! " 
 
 Many now present can bear testimony to the fact that "the 
 righteous hath hope in his death;" and amongst them 
 some who have been recently called to mourn the departure 
 of one of the oldest members of the Church one dear to 
 a large circle of affectionate relatives; a Christian of long 
 standing, and approved character; and one whose sun, 
 though it went down somewhat suddenly, yet set without a 
 cloud. " Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my 
 last end be like his ! " Is this your wish, my hearers 1 Then 
 you must live the life of the righteous, under the influence 
 of the faith of the righteous. 
 
 Verse 33. " Wisdom resteth in the heart of him that hath 
 understanding: but that which is in the midst of fools is 
 made known." The meaning is not, of course, that the 
 man of "understanding" makes no use of his "wisdom" for 
 the benefit of others, keeping it all to himself all locked 
 up in his own mind ; but that he uses it discreetly. He 
 chooses his time and his company, unfolding his mental 
 treasures at appropriate seasons, to appropriate persons, in 
 appropriate circumstances. The fool has little, and that 
 little he is anxious to show, ever seeking to be thought as 
 wise as possible ; and he exhausts perpetually, over and over 
 again, his little stock of common-places, and of such extra- 
 ordinaries as he has chanced to pick up and remember. The 
 folly of the one is "made known" to all. The wisdom of 
 the other "rests in the heart" of him who possesses it, dis-
 
 14 LECTURE XXX VI. 
 
 covered only by degrees, and by the few with whom he 
 comes into intimate contact.* 
 
 Ver. 34. "Righteousness exalteth a nation: but sin is a 
 reproach to any people." 
 
 The sentiment may be applied to rulers and to people. 
 Righteousness in the rulers "exalteth a nation;" and the 
 general prevalence of righteousness in the community " exalt- 
 eth a nation." The true honour of a nation, like that of an 
 individual, lies in character ; -and even as to what is too often 
 placed by the thoughtless first even as to national wealth 
 and temporal prosperity, and the extension of possessions 
 and dependencies, it is character that tends most effectually 
 to their attainment; and it is character, in a special manner, 
 that alone secures their permanence. How often, in the his- 
 tory of nations, has character procured wealth and aggran- 
 dizement; and then the wealth and aggrandizement, by 
 their seductive and corrupting influence, gradually, but with 
 accelerating progress, destroyed character! And again, as 
 the final step, how often has the destruction of character 
 proved the decline and fall of the empire even in its temporal 
 and secular greatness, and hastened its complete extinction ! 
 
 When there is, in any community, the prevalence of true 
 religion, with its inseparable attendants and proportionals, 
 the personal and social virtues, sobriety, justice, mutual in- 
 tegrity and honour, industry, and practical benevolence, 
 there are in that community the elements of national great- 
 ness, of true, internal, independent happiness, as well as 
 of advancing prosperity and elevation. The tendenpy of 
 these to promote such results is manifest. They produce 
 peace, union, stability, and concentration of energies; with 
 personal and social, civil and religious liberty. They are, 
 moreover, the means of bringing down the divine blessing on 
 a country, without which, what is there that can prosper? 
 Without which all will be failure, all blight and barrenness, 
 all disappointment and discomfiture, all declension and 
 penury, and slow or rapid consumption. The prevalence of 
 
 * For further illustration see chap. xii. 23; xiii. 16.
 
 PROVERBS XIV. 3235. 15 
 
 impiety, with its accompanying vices, tends, in the very 
 natxire of things, to ruin, to ruin both personal and na- 
 tional : and the tendency is aggravated by its withdrawing 
 the protection and smile of the Almighty, the "righteous 
 Lord, who loveth righteousness." 
 
 We find the great general principle of divine providence, 
 in regard to nations, thus laid down by Jehovah himself to the 
 prophet Jeremiah " At what instant I shall speak concern- 
 ing a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and to 
 pull down, and to destroy it; if that nation against whom I 
 have pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent of the evil 
 that I thought to do unto them. And at what instant I shall 
 speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to 
 build and to plant it ; if it do evil in my sight, that it obey 
 not my voice, then I will repent of the good wherewith 1 
 said I would benefit them," Jer. xviii. 7 10. This was a 
 principle, not applicable to Israel exclusively : for we find 
 it expressly applied to the Amorites, the Canaanites, and the 
 inhabitants of Sodom and of Nineveh. And, the Old Testa- 
 ment bringing before us specimens of the divine administra- 
 tion, the Spirit of God letting us so far into the secrets of 
 its principles and laws, we have every reason to believe 
 that in the government of God over the world, the same 
 principle is still in operation, though we may not be able 
 to trace it, that, had we only an inspired record of what 
 takes place now, we should see it clearly in all cases; and, 
 even without such a record, there are cases in which it would 
 be equal impiety and blindness not to discern and own it. 
 
 Let us all be assured, then, that we do most efiiciently 
 promote the security and prosperity the true glory and the 
 true happiness of our country, in proportion as we contri- 
 bute, in any way, to the advancement of the interests ol 
 religion amongst its inhabitants. Of the contrary, alas ! 
 there is a vast and growing amount in the British Isles; 
 and it is aggravated by the greatness and abundance 
 of our privileges, of the light of divine knowledge and the 
 varied means of piety and virtue. There are systems in ope- 
 ration, of which the tendency is to the deterioration of all
 
 16 LECTURE XXXYI. 
 
 that is good, and the introduction of all that is evil. By 
 every legitimate means we should seek their counterac- 
 tion. But by legitimate means, I am. not to be understood 
 as intending the interference of the strong arm of law, the 
 staying even of irreligion and immorality themselves by pro- 
 hibitory statutes and penal enactments, unless in cases 
 where injury is done to person or property, or to the peace 
 and safety of individuals, neighbourhoods, or the country at 
 large. I mean, the personal and the combined activity of 
 the friends of the truth, and of true religion, to diffuse right 
 principles, and thus to counterwork the spread and influence 
 of wrong ones. In proportion to the zeal and efforts of the 
 abettors of error, let the adherents of truth bestir themselves. 
 If the agents of the enemy of souls be busy, let the agents of 
 the Eedeemer of souls be busy too. Let all moral means, 
 especially, be put diligently into operation for circulating the 
 knowledge, impressing the importance, urging the obligation, 
 and promoting the influence of principles in accordance with 
 the word of God ; in suppressing intemperance ; in checking 
 all descriptions of vicious indulgence ; in diffusing education ; 
 in promoting, by Sabbath-schools, by Bible and Tract distri- 
 bution, by visits of mercy to the poor, the knowledge and 
 the leavening influence of religious truth; by town missions 
 and country missions, circulating light and dissipating dark- 
 ness ; and, at the same time, it should be added, by such 
 measures of private philanthropy, and by countenance and 
 aid to such measures of legislative authority, as are fitted 
 to augment the independence and comfort of the inferior 
 classes of society, and thus to repress the spirit of discontent 
 and turbulence, and to encourage that of satisfaction, quiet- 
 ness, and peaceful industry, and to engender a disposition of 
 greater willingness to attend to those means which may be 
 used for their higher and better interests. 
 
 And let it be our prayer, that the " righteousness which 
 exalteth a nation" may ever be found in the administration 
 of its government ; that its great men may be good men- 
 men " fearing God and hating covetousness" not actuated 
 by selfish but by truly patriotic and disinterested principles :
 
 PROVERBS XIV. 3235. 17 
 
 of which, though there are honourable exceptions, we have 
 always so much reason to lament that the amount to be 
 found on any side of political partisanship, should be so 
 sadly small ! Let it be our prayer, that " the throne may be 
 established in righteousness," and that, from the throne 
 downward, righteousness, in principle and practice, may per- 
 vade the nation. While we bewail the amount of varied 
 wickedness in our own land, let us not be unmindful of the 
 good, nor unthankful for it. There is much. There is 
 much of true religion. There are many renewed and praying 
 souls ; many who are the salt of the earth ; many objects of 
 divine love; many who imitate that love in active benevo- 
 lence, and who benefit the community, both by example, 
 activity, and prayer. By this salt is Britain preserved from 
 universally pervading corruption. By this shield of prayer 
 is Britain protected from divine vengeance. This is Britain's 
 glory; this Britain's security. 
 
 There is a close connexion between this and the following 
 verse, as nothing has a better tendency to diffuse righteous- 
 ness in a community, and to maintain and perpetuate it, than 
 the character of the reigning prince : " The king's favour is 
 toward a wise servant : but his wrath is against him that 
 causeth shame." These words state what ought to be. No 
 one ought to be the king's or the queen's servant who is not 
 wise; and toward every such wise servant the royal favour 
 should be specially extended. And who is a wise servant i 
 Not a servant who natters royal vanity ; accommodates itself 
 to royal foibles; indulges royal prejudices; chimes in with 
 royal caprices ; tolerates and connives at royal vices, whether 
 personal or official. No. A wise servant must be a servant of 
 conscientious principle, and of bland but unflinching fidelity. 
 He is one who gives prudent and faithful counsel; who 
 "speaks truth as he thinks it in his heart;" whose counsels 
 are dictated by a right understanding of the times and know- 
 ledge of what such times require, not by a wish to ingra- 
 tiate the minister with the prince, and so to promote his 
 own personal advantage, but by the principles of genuine 
 patriotism as well as loyalty. Such a public servant is a 
 
 IL B
 
 18 LECTURE XXXVI. 
 
 blessing to the throne, and through the throne to the coun- 
 try. Such a servant will, unquestionably, on the supposi- 
 tion of his being under its influence himself, do all that lies 
 legitimately in his power to promote the interests of true 
 religion; and he will avail himself, for this purpose, of the 
 augmented influence which his high station gives him. This 
 is quite a distinct tiling from exerting official authority in 
 religion. I have spoken of what may be legitimately in his 
 power. But the exercise of such authority is not legitimate. 
 The principles and laws of true religion are in the Bible; 
 and in the Bible alone is their authority ; and in the Bible 
 alone are the gracious rewards and the penal sanctions, by which 
 obedience to them is encouraged and the infraction of them 
 restrained. Every interference of human authority in such 
 matters is an interference with, the exclusive prerogatives of 
 the Most High. But influence may be more than legiti- 
 mate : it may be incumbent. On every man, in every station, 
 who knows the truths of religion and feels their power, it is 
 incumbent. He will use it in every way that is in harmony 
 with freedom of conscience, and with the independence and 
 spiritual character of the kingdom of Christ. 
 
 The expression "causeth shame" corresponds perhaps to 
 the word " reproach" in the verse preceding. That servant 
 " causeth shame," by whom that is encouraged from which 
 reproach arises; that is who encourages sin. Against a 
 minister of this description the king's wrath ought to be 
 directed : he should frown him from his presence. That ser- 
 vant too " causeth shame," who, from whatever motive, gives 
 counsels to his prince which, he has reason to believe, must 
 prove either prejudicial or abortive ; such as can hardly fail 
 to render him unpopular with his people, and expose him, by 
 their failure, to the derision of foreign states a derision in 
 which the kingdom as well as the throne the people as well 
 as the monarch, are involved. That servant too "causeth 
 shame " who is the enticer and tempter of his royal master to 
 evil, to vicious and licentious indulgences, from which, ulti- 
 mately, he rinds himself involved in personal infamy, and in 
 official disgrace and embarrassment. He then awakes, but
 
 PROVERBS XIV. 3235. 19 
 
 too late, to a sense of his folly in allowing himself to be thus 
 seduced and duped; and then his bitter reflections awaken 
 his wrath against the unprincipled and faithless servant who 
 has brought him to shame. 
 
 The example of the Court necessarily spreads downward 
 to the very lowest, through all the intermediate grades of 
 society. We find this strikingly exemplified in the recorded 
 history of the kings of Israel and Judah. According to the 
 character of the prince was, to a great extent, the character 
 of the people. And indeed, we might select many hardly 
 less striking exemplifications of the same thing from the his- 
 tory of our own country. So that, in every view, it is of 
 eminent consequence, that the throne should be based on 
 righteousness; and that those around it should be men of 
 righteous principle wise, faithful, upright, fearing God. Let 
 Christians, then, comply with the apostolic admonition " I 
 exhort, therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, in- 
 tercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men; for 
 kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a 
 quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty. For 
 this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour; 
 who will have all men to be saved and to come unto the 
 knowledge of the truth," 1 Tim. ii. 1 4. 
 
 If the character of the reigning monarch thus affects and 
 moulds the character of his people, let the subjects of the 
 King of Zion consider the character of their Prince. Let 
 them set that character, in all its perfect beauty and glorious 
 excellences, ever before them. The more closely they imitate 
 it, the more complete will be their own personal honour and 
 happiness; and the more complete too will be the honour 
 and happiness of the collective spiritual community. When 
 that community is finally assembled in the heavenly city, all 
 shall be fully conformed in character to their King and Head, 
 and the glory and blessedness of the community shall thus 
 be perfected. my brethren, let us show that our hope of 
 likeness to Him then is no delusion, by a growing earnest- 
 ness of desire to be hive him now.
 
 LECTURE XXXVII. 
 
 PROV. xv. 1 6. 
 
 " A soft answer turnetb away wratli : but grievous words stir up anger. The 
 tongue of the wise useth knowledge aright: but the mouth of fools poureth out 
 foolishness. The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the 
 good. A wholesome tongue is a tree of life: but perverseness therein is a breach 
 in the spirit. A fool despiseth his father's instruction : but he that regardeth 
 reproof is prudent. In the house of the righteous is much treasure: but in the 
 revenues of the wicked is trouble." 
 
 IN the words "a soft answer turneth away wrath" anger 
 is supposed to have been already kindled, and to have ex- 
 pressed itself in terms of passionate irritation. In such cir- 
 cumstances, the oifended pride of our nature prompts us to 
 return an answer in the same strain, not " soft " but high 
 and harsh. We wish to show, especially if others are pres- 
 ent, that we are not afraid, and that we are not the persons 
 to be provoked and abused with impunity ! The answer 
 which natural feeling would thus dictate, would be one in 
 " grievous words," adding to irritation, and further "stirring 
 up anger" one which would be only as fresh fuel to a burn- 
 ing and blazing fire, or as a fresh gust of wind on the 
 already raging deep. In this there would be double wrong : 
 it would be giving indulgence to an evil temper in our- 
 selves, as well as stimulating and increasing it in others. 
 
 Our incumbent duty, when so situated, is self-restraint. 
 Such restraint, though often regarded as mean-spiritedness, 
 and want of becoming and manly pride (accustomed as 
 we are to give gentle names to ungentle tilings) is true
 
 PROVERBS XV. 16. 21 
 
 greatness of mind true dignity.* But how much soever 
 our judgments are convinced of this, how entire soever our 
 concurrence in the abstract sentiment, we feel how im- 
 potent too often such conviction is in the moment of temp- 
 tation, when exposed to the angry menaces, or the scornful 
 and defying words, and looks, and gestures of an adversary ! 
 And yet that is just the moment for the exercise of self-re- 
 straint. At other times there is no trial of it and no need 
 for it. It is easy to be calm, and sweet, and gentle, when 
 there is nothing to provoke. Tempers are only known when 
 brought into contact with some antagonistic element: as 
 ;ertain chemical substances when apart remain still, cool, and 
 motionless; but when brought together, discover the heat 
 .ind fume and noise of violent effervescence. 
 
 Christian brethren, let us look to our great pattern : 
 '' When he was reviled, he reviled not again, when he suf- 
 fered, he threatened not." Yet never surely was there such 
 true dignity of character the sublimity of composure, the 
 majesty of meekness ! 
 
 The verse before us states a fact : " A soft answer turn- 
 eth away wrath." In some instances, indeed, a soft answer 
 is the surest way to irritate, to stir up wrath even to the 
 highest pitch. There are persons of so peculiar a temper, 
 that they will be provoked by our very calmness, roused to 
 perfect fury, because they cannot get us into a passion like 
 themselves. The failure of their attempts to provoke us in- 
 creases their own rage, and the very contrast between our 
 self-command and their want of it, adds to the madness. 
 Generally, however, the effect will be as here represented. 
 And even in the cases referred to of apparent exception, 
 the exception, after all, relates only to the period of excite- 
 ment, the moments of actual irritation. On subsequent 
 reflection, the remembrance of the " soft answer ; " of the man- 
 ner in which their passion was met, of the contrast between 
 their own undue heat and our coolness, will produce the 
 relentiugs of shame, and lead to acknowledgment of error.
 
 '2 LECTURE XXXVII. 
 
 The sentiment is and it holds to reason as well as accords 
 Avith fact that meekness will allay the fury of the flames 
 of passion. By pouring on oil we may calm the wave, which 
 we should lash and rehuke in vain. 
 
 I might illustrate the proverb by Scripture instances. 
 Look at the eifect of the quiet and dignified reply of Gi- 
 deon to the exasperated "men of Ephraim" by which "their 
 auger toward him was abated." Look again at the case of 
 Abigail and David the calm prudence of the former turning 
 away the wrath which had been excited by the surly and 
 ungrateful churlishness of the besotted Nabal, and which had 
 armed David and his men for vengeance. And as an exem- 
 plification of the effects of an opposite style of answer, you may 
 be reminded of the contention between the men of Israel and 
 the men of Judah, at the time of David's restoration after 
 the death of Absalom, when the fierce words of the latter 
 drove off the former under the rebellious standard of Sheba 
 the son of Bichri ; and of the case of Eehoboam, who by re- 
 fusing the counsel to give "a soft answer" to the people 
 who came petitioning for a mitigation of their biirdens, and 
 adopting one harsh and repulsive, deprived the house of 
 David of the subjection of the ten tribes, wliich attached 
 themselves to " Jeroboam the son of Xebat who made Israel 
 to sin." 
 
 Verse 2. "The tongue of the wise useth knowledge 
 aright : but the mouth of fools poureth out foolishness." 
 
 Similar sentiments have come repeatedly before us;* but 
 though similar, not the same. "Knowledge" is the pos- 
 session of information, and we have here the correct idea of 
 wisdom; which, practically considered, is the right use oj 
 knowledge, and, in regard to character, the ability so to use 
 it. The wise man makes a right use of knowledge in 
 the mode of communicating it "the tongue of the wise 
 useth knowledge aright" as regards times, persons, places, 
 company, and the spirit in which it is used : and in propor- 
 tion to the degree of knowledge, both wisdom and principle 
 
 * See chap. xii. 23; xiii. 16; xiv. 33.
 
 PROVERBS XV. 16. 23 
 
 become desirable, to enable and to dispose its possessors to 
 u?e and to improve it. " But the mouth of fools pours out 
 foolishness." Their words are uttered without discrimination 
 while the character of the words corresponds with the char- 
 acter of their minds. If we take wisdom and folly in their 
 higher sense, as meaning religious principle on the one hand, 
 and the want of it on the other, then " using knowledge 
 aright," will be using it for the glory of God and the best in- 
 terests of men ; and " the pouring out of foolishness," the 
 presumptuous utterance of what is worse than light, and 
 frothy, and improfitable, even the sentiments and words of 
 irreligion and profanity. 
 
 Verse 3. " The eyes of the Lord are in every place, be- 
 holding the evil and the good." 
 
 I need hardly say that all such language is figurative. 
 " GOD is A SPIRIT." The ascription to Him of corporeal 
 organs must be understood in harmony with this declaration. 
 By "the eyes" of Jehovah, we are to understand His capa- 
 city of discernment. By us, the manner of that discernment 
 is altogether incomprehensible. From this, indeed, arises 
 the necessity for the use of such figures. Were language 
 used directly expressing the functions and operations of spi- 
 rit simply as such, we should be utterly incapable of under- 
 standing it. How God, the eternal Mind, is present every 
 moment in every place, in the exercise of all His infinite 
 perfections, is a matter which involves mysteries far beyond 
 our powers of comprehension, far deeper than the short 
 line of our intellect is sufficient to fathom. The attempt to 
 understand them will ever force from us the devout exclama- 
 tion " Such knowledge is too wonderful for me ; it is high, 
 I cannot attain unto it!" 
 
 " The eyes of the Lord are in every place" expresses the 
 unceasing inspection, on the part of the divine Being, of 
 all creatures in the universe at the same moment; there 
 being no person or object ; nothing whatever that exists 
 alive or dead spirit or matter intelligent or unintelli- 
 gent active or inert that is ever, even for a single instant, 
 from under His gaze.
 
 24 LECTURE XXXVII. 
 
 Without expatiating on the attribute of omniscience gen- 
 erally, I would confine myself to the light in which it is 
 here brought before us, the light most immediately and 
 practically useful to us the divine acquaintance with the 
 ways of men. 
 
 This is indispensable to God's either governing or judging 
 the world. His administration could not go on without it. 
 There would be immediate and inextricable confusion. 
 Equally essential is it to enlightened and impartial judg- 
 ment. God must know that He may judge. He must know 
 all that he may judge all; and He cannot know all other- 
 wise than by a constant, universal, unintermitting supervi- 
 sion, and the most perfectly intimate acquaintance with the 
 minds and hearts, as well as the words and actions of men.* 
 
 The knowledge of God, arising from His universal presence 
 and inspection, extends, we are here reminded, to both "the 
 evil and the good." Nor is the difference between the two 
 ever overlooked by Him. It may at times appear as if it 
 were. He does not always mark it in the distribution of 
 temporal blessings, or crosses and trials. But " the evil " are 
 not at all the more the objects of His favour that at times 
 they prosper; nor are "the good" the less so that at times 
 they suffer. His eyes still look with favour upon the one, 
 and with displeasure upon the other. On the one He smiles, 
 when to their unbelieving minds He may seem to frown ; 
 on the other He frowns, when to their self-flattering but 
 deluded fancy He may seem to smile. The days of darkness 
 through which the one are called to pass shall all terminate in. 
 the light of that "blessed day that knows no morrow;" 
 while the light of the other's temporary prosperity shall end 
 in " the blackness of darkness for ever."t 
 
 What a solemn thought, then, to " the evil," to them 
 who are living " without God " that from HIM nothing can 
 be concealed ! When successfully hiding their misdeeds from 
 the view of men, they forget this. How often realized is 
 the description of Job " The murderer rising with the 
 
 * Comp. Jer. xxxii. 19. and Heb. iv. 13. f Psal. xi. 4 7.
 
 PROVERBS XV. 16. 25 
 
 light killeth the poor and needy, and in the night is as a 
 thief. The eye also of the adulterer waiteth for the twilight, 
 saying, Xo eye shall see me : and disguiseth his face. In the 
 dark they dig through houses, which they had marked for 
 themselves in the daytime : they know not the light. For the 
 morning is to them even as the shadow of death : if one know 
 them, they are in the terrors of the shadow of death ! " Ah ! 
 sad and fatal mistake ! " Xo eye shall see me !" There is an 
 eye that seeth him; an eye that is of incomparably greater 
 consequence to him, did he but think of it, than the collective 
 eyes of a peopled universe. Yes ; and there is one morning 
 coming, that shall be infinitely more alarming to him than 
 any that ever dawned upon him in the prosecution of his 
 wicked courses here : a morning when he shall indeed be 
 " in the terrors of the shadow of death ;" that eventful 
 morning when the trump of God shall sound the summons to 
 His bar ; " when all that are in their graves shall hear the 
 voice of the Son of God, and shall come forth; they that 
 have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that 
 have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation;" when 
 " God shall bring every work into judgment, with every 
 secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil." 
 
 The truth stated in this verse is, at the same time, a 
 source of joy unspeakable to the "good" to the people of 
 GooL Is it not, Christian friends, a delightful thought, that 
 the eA'er-watchful eye of your heavenly Father is over all 
 your concerns? that His graciotis and all- wise providence 
 superintends unceasingly everything relating to your present 
 and your future well-being? In the strong terms used by 
 your divine Lord and Master, the strongest in the Bible, 
 to express the minute particularity of the divine regard to 
 his people's interests, " The very hairs of your head are all 
 numbered." God's eyes, when on His children, are the eyes 
 of faithful love and vigilant care ; not the eyes of keen 
 scrutiny, in order to detect guilt, but the eyes of tender kind- 
 ness, in order to afford supply in need, guidance in per- 
 plexity, and protection in danger. " The eyes of the Lord 
 are upon the righteous, and his ears are oy>en to their cry."
 
 26 LECTURE XXXVII. 
 
 Is not tliis a comfort] You feel sympathy with the crying 
 and tears of a strayed child, and with the joy of that child 
 when it comes again under the parental eye. But no child 
 of God can ever, in reality, be from under His eye, whatever 
 the unbelieving doubts and suspicions of that child may 
 tempt him to fear. When a cliild of God wanders, it is not 
 from God's ceasing to see him, but from his, for a time, ceas- 
 ing to see God. It is our duty to maintain a firm faith in 
 the constant superintendence of our heavenly Father, and to 
 "delight ourselves in God." Yet while there is reason for 
 rejoicing, there is reason, at the same time, for solemn awe. 
 0, the thought, of having God's eye unceasingly upon us the 
 eye of Him who is the " high and lofty one, that inhabiteth 
 eternity," who is " of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, and 
 cannot look upon sin," who " is light, and in whom is no 
 darkness at all ! " 
 
 Verse 4. " The wholesome tongue," or literally, as on the 
 margin the healing of the tongue, " is a tree of life : but per- 
 verseness therein is a breach in the spirit." The verse may 
 be compared with the second. The tongue which " useth 
 knowledge aright " has a morally and spiritually healing in- 
 fluence. It imparts instruction to the ignorant. It speaks 
 peace to the troubled conscience. It soothes the anguish 
 of the afflicted. It subdues the swellings of passion. It 
 allays the self-inflicted tortures of envy. It heals divisions 
 and animosities, conciliating to each other the discordant 
 and alienated, and converting enemies into friends. These 
 and other blessed fruits of " the wholesome tongue " the 
 " tongue of health " entitle it to the designation, " a tree 
 of life;" productive as it is of genuine, varied, valuable 
 jnys to all within the reach of its influence. And when the 
 tongue makes known God's " saving health," the salvation 
 revealed by Him in the gospel, it then gives " life" in the 
 highest and most important of all senses ; bringing the out- 
 cast and undone sinner to " eat of the tree of life which is 
 in the midst of the paradise of God !" 
 
 " But perverseness therein is a breach in the spirit." Its 
 being, or producing, " a breach in the spirit " may be vari-
 
 PBBVEKBS XV. 16. 27 
 
 ously understood. It disturbs and irritates the spirit. It 
 destroys tranquillity and peace of mind. It brings guilt 
 upon the conscience, and distress in various ways upon the 
 heart. The continued unkindness and bitterness of the 
 tongue may so wear out the ever pained and pining heart as 
 to sink it at length prematurely to the grave, especially 
 when, from the nearness and tenderness of any relation, 
 there ought to be in the tongue "the law of kindness" a 
 sanatory, cheering, soothing, healthful influence. 
 
 Verse 5. " A fool despiseth his father's instruction : but 
 he that regardeth reproof is prudent."'"" 
 
 how signal the folly, how flagrant the imprudence 
 apart from all consideration of its wickedness and guilt 
 of "despising the instruction" and scorning the counsel, 
 whether of a father or a friend, that would lead to the at- 
 tainment of eternal happiness, for the sake of a good infi- 
 nitely inferior, and that lasts but for a moment ! " Eternity 
 for bubbles " the light, empty, airy, glittering bubbles that 
 are blown by the breath of this world's vanity " proves at 
 last a senseless bargain." 
 
 Verse 6. " In the house of the righteous is much trea- 
 sure : but in the revenues of the wicked is trouble."t 
 
 The " treasure in the house of the righteous," as here con- 
 trasted with the " revenues of the wicked," may be under- 
 stood, not of mere wealth, but of whatever is possessed with 
 contentment and cheerfulness, with gratitude to God with 
 confidence in His wisdom, faithfulness, and love, with an 
 assurance of His fatherly regard, with the peace that pass- 
 eth all understanding, with resignation of spirit to the 
 divine will, with the present enjoyment of spiritual bless- 
 ings, and the well-founded " hope of glory, and honour, and 
 immortality." Even the good things of time, how moderate 
 soever in their amount, when enjoyed thus, become " trea- 
 sures" indeed of inestimable preciousness ; realizing the say- 
 ing of the psalmist, "A little that a righteous man hath ia 
 better than the riches of many wicked." 
 
 * Comp. chap. i. 23: vi. 20, with 23; x. ] ; xiii 1, 18. 
 f Comp. chap. xiii. 22, 23; xiv. 11.
 
 28 LECTURE XXXVII. 
 
 It is added accordingly " But in the revenues of the 
 wicked there is trouble." These revenues we may suppose 
 to be acquired wickedly, and enjoyed wickedly. But what- 
 ever the means of their acquisition, and although in the 
 manner of their enjoyment and use there may be no direct 
 injury to men, yet if possessed and expended without the 
 fear of God, and if the means themselves of banishing that 
 fear, and preventing the choice of a better portion, it may 
 truly be affirmed that in them " there is trouble" How often 
 do they engender fears and jealousies, anxieties and appre- 
 hensions, that drive sleep from the eyes, and slumber from the 
 eyelids ! How often do they inspire and nurture pride and 
 passion, impatience of spirit, selfishness, and temptation to 
 thoughtless and sinful indulgence, such indulgence produc- 
 ing even at the time, and especially in the end, remorse of con- 
 science and the fearful looking-for of judgment ! How often 
 do they thus, without imparting real happiness while they last, 
 aggravate condemnation at the close ! How often, too, do they 
 render their possessor the object of envy, and of malicious 
 detraction and slander, by which, he is wronged even beyond 
 what, on the part of fellow-men, he deserves, how deep 
 soever his guilt before Heaven! When "the revenues of the 
 wicked" have such effects upon their possessor, tempting him 
 to live and die without God inserting stings in his con- 
 science, and awakening forebodings in his heart well may 
 the saying of Samuel Johnson to the celebrated Garrick be 
 applied to them " These are the things that make a death- 
 bed terrible." It is terrible to leave them, for to the wicked 
 worldling it is leaving his all; and it is more terrible still 
 to enter on the dread unknown on a world for which no 
 provision has been made, and over the entrance hang 
 " shadows, clouds, and darkness." When he dieth he can 
 " carry nothing away ; " and he has nothing in hope beyond 
 no "bright reversion in the skies," to compensate for the 
 loss of all he is obliged to leave ! His glory descends not 
 after him. He has "trouble" with his revenues; trouble in 
 leaving them ; and trouble for ever in the fatal consequences 
 of their seductive influence over him.
 
 LECTURE XXXVIII 
 
 PROV. xv. 7 12. 
 
 "The lips of the wise disperse knowledge: but the heart of the foolish doeth 
 not so. The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord: but the 
 prayer of the upright is his delight. The way of the wicked is an abominatior 
 unto the Lord: but he loveth him that followeth after righteousness. Correc 
 tion is grievous unto him that forsaketh the way: and he that hateth reproo- 
 shall die. Hell and destruction are before the Lord: how much more then tin- 
 hearts of the children of men ? A scorner loveth not one that reproveth him : 
 neither will he go unto the wise." 
 
 OF " knowledge," as of wealth, the true value depends upon 
 its use. Laid up, under lock and key, in the coffers of the 
 miser, the largest amount of riches, in bags of rusting gold 
 and silver, serves no good end. Its owner may please him- 
 self with the thought of having it, and of being known to 
 have it. He may take delight in opening his chests and 
 gloating his eyes, from time to time, on his accumulating 
 heaps; but how mean and pitiful such a gratification even 
 to a reasonable, and how much more to a morally respon- 
 sible being ! Yet, in a similar way a man may plume him- 
 self on the extent and variety of his " knowledge." He may 
 feed his vanity in enumerating to himself its subjects and 
 the amount of it on each. And the gratification arising from 
 the possession of it apart from the thoughts of vanity 
 may be of a far higher and more rational kind than that of 
 the former; but if its possessor keeps it all hidden in the 
 depths of his own mind, shut up in the coffers of his 
 memory, uncommunicated, unapplied to any useful purpose. 
 he bears the character of an intellectual miser.
 
 30 LECTURE X 
 
 " The lips of the wise disperse knowledge." The lesson 
 was finely exemplified by Solomon himself " Moreover, be- 
 cause the preacher was wise, he still taught the people know- 
 ledge; yea, he gave good heed, and sought out, and set in 
 order many proverbs. The preacher sought to find out ac- 
 ceptable words : and that which was written was upright, 
 even words of truth," EccL xii. 9, 10. Solomon's wisdom, 
 we know, related to science, as well as to what are more pro- 
 perly called " the things of God." We need not doubt that 
 he "taught the people knowledge" in various departments; 
 but from the special mention here made of his proverbs, we 
 are warranted in considering his teaching as having special 
 reference to the truths most essential for their present and 
 eternal well-being. Thus too it was with all the prophets 
 and apostles. The treasure was put into these "earthen 
 vessels," not to be kept there, as a personal and private de- 
 posit, but as one to be imparted to be extensively diffused 
 among mankind. " Their lips dispersed knowledge." And 
 it is the incumbent duty of all whom God has made "wise 
 unto salvation," with all zeal for God and compassion for 
 fellow-creatures, to communicate the knowledge which may 
 make others thus spiritually, substantially, eternally wise. 
 
 The antithesis in the verse " but the heart of the foolish 
 doth not so" where we should naturally have expected the 
 lips or the mouth corresponds with that in the 20th verse of 
 the tenth chapter, and the principle of explanation is the 
 same. The knowledge dispersed by the lips of the wise, 
 comes forth from "the treasures" that are in "the heart." 
 But in the heart of "the foolish" the "knowledge" is not to 
 be found : and that which is not in the heart, cannot of 
 course be "dispersed by the lips." If his lips disperse any 
 thing, it must be foil//. 
 
 Verses 8, 9. "The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomina- 
 tion to the Lord : but the prayer of the upright is his de- 
 light. The way of the wicked is an abomination unto the 
 Lord : but he loveth him that followeth after righteousness." 
 
 Between these two verses there is a very close and im- 
 portant connexion. The latter of the two may be considered
 
 PROyERBS XV. 712. 31 
 
 
 
 as containing the reason of the former. It is said of Jeho- 
 vah " Thou art not a God that hath pleasure in wicked- 
 ness : neither shall evil dwell with thee. The foolish shall 
 not stand in thy sight : thou hatest all workers of iniquity," 
 PsaL v. 4, 5. It is not their persons God hates; for He 
 swears hy himself " I have no pleasure in the death of the 
 wicked." He hates their doings; hates their evil courses. 
 These, as the second of the two verses states, are " an abo- 
 mination" to Him; and so, therefore, are their religious ser- 
 vices. Their persons are not accepted ; and while they them- 
 selves are rejected, their offerings cannot be graciously re- 
 ceived. This, brethren, is the true order of things. The 
 sinner himself, believing the glad tidings of the gospel, is 
 first " accepted in the Beloved ; " and then, his person being 
 accepted, and, on Christ's account, in. favour with God, hia 
 services are accepted also on the same ground. 
 
 Intimations such as this, it has been said, might indicate 
 to the then existing generation the approach of another eco- 
 nomy, more pure and spiritual than the introductory and 
 comparatively carnal one under which they lived. But this 
 idea of the difference between the two dispensations has, at 
 times, been pushed to an untenable and mischievous extreme. 
 Why should such intimations be considered as only indicat- 
 ing a spiritual dispensation to come? Why not as indicat- 
 ing, or rather directly and pointedly expressing the necessity 
 of spiritual worship of heart-religion even then ? I appre- 
 hend there never was a period, never a dispensation, when 
 this was not required ; or when any thing short of this was 
 acceptable. What is the reason assigned by the Saviour 
 himself for the necessity of spiritual worship 1 " The hour 
 cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall wor- 
 ship the Father in spirit and in truth : for the Father seek- 
 eth such to worship him. God is a Spirit : and they that 
 worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth," 
 John iv. 23, 24. The first of these two verses must not 
 be understood as meaning that before that time the Father 
 did not " seek such to worship him." Against any such in- 
 terpretation tve might plead the verse immediately before it
 
 32 LECTURE XXXVIII. 
 
 " Ye worship ye know not what : we know what we wor- 
 ship : for salvation is of the Jews." That the Jews, as dis- 
 tinguished by their special revelation, "knew whom they 
 worshipped," can mean nothing less than that Jehovah had 
 been revealed to them in the character in which Jesus speaks 
 of him, namely as a Spirit in the essential spirituality of 
 His nature. God was always a Spirit. The same reason, 
 therefore, always existed for the necessity of spiritual wor- 
 ship. He was always the Searcher of hearts; and always 
 required, and could not but require, the devotion of the 
 heart. Bodily service the religion of posture the religion 
 of the lips the religion of mere outward act, irrespective 
 altogether of the character or the state of the heart, never 
 could be well-pleasing in His sight. The Psalmist surely 
 understood this, when he said " If I regard iniquity in my 
 heart, the Lord will not hear me." The service presented 
 by one man and by another may be, in all that meets 
 the view of fellow-creatures, undistinguishable. But if, in 
 the all-perfect knowledge of God, the characters of the par- 
 ties are different, the services will be regarded accordingly 
 the one accepted, the other refused. It is the wickedness of 
 the wicked that renders the "sacrifice of the wicked an abo- 
 mination." The bullock or the lamb might be the same. 
 The rites observed in the offering of it might be the same ; 
 and all might be attended to with the same rigidly scrupulous 
 exactness. Yet in the one case, it might be a sweet savour 
 unto the Lord, and in the other " a trouble unto him which 
 he was weary to bear." That such was the case then as well 
 as now, we are not left to infer from such premises as those 
 given us by our Lord in the passage referred to. It is 
 plainly and explicitly declared.* And the sentiment sug- 
 gested by the connexion between the two verses before 
 us, is no other than that which is stated with greater ex- 
 pansion in the divine expostulation with Israel in the 
 opening chapter of Isaiah's prophecy, t where in striking lan- 
 guage the connexion between approved character and accept- 
 
 * See Deut x. 1216. t Isa. i. 1018.
 
 PROVERBS XV. 712. 33 
 
 able worship is expressed with the utmost plainness, and 
 with divine force. And the same is the sentiment, uttered, 
 if possible, with even greater emphasis, in the language 
 " He that killeth an ox is as if he slew a man ; he that sa- 
 crificeth a lamb, as if he cut off a dog's neck; M he that offer- 
 eth an oblation, as if he offered swine's blood; he that 
 burneth incense, as if he blessed an idol."* I am aware 
 that these expressions have been interpreted as meaning, that 
 under the future dispensation all the existing and prescribed 
 offerings would be abolished, and that it would be as 
 much a sin to offer them as it was then a sin to withhold 
 them. But I can see no sound reason for not interpreting 
 the language as relating to the time then being. The con- 
 nexion of the third and fourth verses brings out the same 
 sentiment with that before us, that "the sacrifice of the 
 wicked is an abomination to the Lord." Why was the slay- 
 ing of an ox in sacrifice as unacceptable to Jehovah as the 
 murder of a man? the offering of a lamb as the slaughter 
 of an unclean dog? the presenting a prescribed oblation as 
 a libation of swine's blood 1 the burning of the sweet in- 
 cense, compounded according to divine prescription, as the 
 blessing of an idol 1 ? The reason follows : " Yea, they have 
 chosen their own ways, and their soul delighteth in their 
 abominations." Thus the different passages speak the same 
 language. They remind Israel, not merely of a coining time 
 when worship of a more purely spiritual character should be 
 required by Jehovah from His people, but of the then exist- 
 ing obligation to give Him the homage of a devoted heart, 
 and of a life of obedience in harmony with nominal and 
 ceremonial distinction, and of the aversion of Jehovah, the 
 heart-searching God, to worship of a different description, 
 to worship " coming out of feigned lips," or unaccredited by 
 a consistent life that God has always looked, and could not 
 but look to the principle within, and never would regard 
 otherwise than with loathing " the sacrifice of the wicked." 
 I state these things strongly, because I am persuaded that 
 
 * See Isa. Ixvi. 3. 
 II. C
 
 34 LECTURE XXXVIII. 
 
 very false conceptions prevail about the difference, in this 
 and in some other respects, between both the worship and 
 the morality of the old and the new dispensations. 
 
 Let us remember that the sentiment before us is appli- 
 cable now, in its full force, to all merely external acts and 
 forms of worship. They can never be pleasing to the Lord. 
 How should they? The principle of His dissatisfaction with 
 them we feel in ourselves. If any of us were to receive a 
 present, accompanied with many verbal professions of attach- 
 ment, and we were afterwards to discover that the person from 
 whom it came had been acting a part utterly at variance with 
 all his professions, indicative of a heart that hated instead of 
 loving us, and that the present with its accompaniments, was 
 sent with no other view than to answer some selfish end 
 of his own, would not that which had at first gratified us 
 be instantly loathed and cast away? Thus it is with God. 
 No oblations, no acts of worship, no alms, can be acceptable 
 in His sight, when He knows them to come from one whoso 
 heart, instead of being " right with Him," is in a state of 
 alienation and enmity, in hostility to His authority and 
 grace. They are either offered without principle or consi- 
 deration at all; or for the purpose of covering sin, or of 
 compensating for past transgressions, or of obtaining indul- 
 gence to conscience for the future as a kind of bribe to 
 the supreme Judge. They can be regarded by Him in no 
 other light than as an awful insult to His holiness and justice 
 and truth ! 
 
 Are ungodly men, then, some may be ready to ask, to be 
 forbidden to pray? Forbidden to pray! Who and where 
 is the man that will be presumptuous enough to lay such an 
 interdict ] Forbidden to pray ! The very thought is shock- 
 ing. Who will come with such a prohibition between even 
 the chief of sinners the veriest wretch on earth and his 
 God? Prayer, if the duty of one, is the duty of all. Ab- 
 stinence from prayer is positive sin. At the same time, it 
 ought to be equally plain, that every duty presupposes, in 
 the injunction of it, whatever is necessary to its right and 
 acceptable performance. If the act of prayer cannot be
 
 PROVERBS XV. 712. 3o 
 
 acceptable without the spirit of prayer, then, when we 
 affirm it every man's duty to pray, we affirm it every 
 man's duty to have the spirit of prayer. If, in order to 
 acceptable prayer on the part of a sinner, it behoves to 
 be presented in the name of a Mediator, and in the exer- 
 cise of faith in that name, then, when we call upon a sin- 
 ner to pray, meaning, as we must, that he should pray 
 acceptably, we call upon him to exercise that faith which is 
 necessary to acceptable prayer. This is clear. In calling a 
 man to the discharge of any duty, we call him, of course, to 
 whatever is included in the right discharge of that duty; 
 and among other things, to the motive or principle from which 
 the lawgiver requires it to be done. When an ungodly 
 man prays, it is not the act of prayer that constitutes the 
 sin ; it is the want of a praying heart. The sin is in him, 
 not in his prayer. The prayer in itself may be very good ; 
 but, as coming from him, it may be worse than worthless. 
 
 "We might apply the same principle more generally, ex- 
 tending it to all duties whatever. They ought all, without 
 exception, to be done from the principle of love to God the 
 elementary and pervading principle of the whole law. An 
 ungodly man is rightly called upon to the fulfilment of the 
 personal and the relative duties which the divine law incul- 
 cates. But it is, at the same time, right and necessary to re- 
 mind him, that, so long as his heart continues in a state of 
 enmity against God, there is not one of them that can be 
 fulfilled acceptably to Him. The principle of all acceptable 
 obedience is wanting. It is in some such sense as this that 
 it is said " The ploughing of the wicked is sin" And it is 
 one of the most affecting circumstances in their condition, 
 that there is nothing they can do that has the approval and 
 acceptance of God! Are they therefore to be forbidden to 
 perform these duties? No, assuredly. But they are to be 
 faithfully reminded that the right discharge of them in- 
 volves and requires the exercise of the right principle; and 
 to be urged by this, and every other consideration fitted to 
 excite a salutary alarm, to turn unto God. Such is the use 
 we would make of the sentiment before us. Is it not an
 
 36 LECTURE XXXVIII. 
 
 affecting thought to you, fellow -sinners, that while you 
 continue impenitent and unbelieving, all your duties toge- 
 ther those even on the strict performance of which you 
 may be most pluming yourselves your very prayers are 
 "an abomination" to God? He invites you to come to 
 Him, but not to come continuing in your evil ways. That 
 is not coming to God; for coming to God is forsaking evil. 
 To come to God, and to cleave to sin, is a contradiction in 
 terms. The sinner who comes to God comes in prayer ; 
 and the sinner who comes in prayer must come in faith 
 and in the renunciation of self and sin, to serve God 
 thenceforward " in newness of life," with " Ms body and 
 with his spirit which are God's." 
 
 Verse 1 0. " Correction is grievous unto him that forsak- 
 eth the way: and he that hateth reproof shall die." 
 
 The word rendered correction is, on the margin, translated 
 instruction; but the principle and spirit of the statement 
 remain the same. Retaining the former translation there 
 are two interpretations given of it. 
 
 1. The word "is" being supplementary, the rendering 
 may be "Severe correction to him that forsaketh the 
 way;" that is, shall be to him that forsaketh the way. 
 This again is capable of two meanings. It may either, on 
 the principle of parallelism, be understood as of similar im- 
 port with the second clause of the verse, and explained of 
 the punishment of the impenitently wicked : or it may be 
 understood in reference to present suffering or chastisement, 
 as a means of bringing back from error to a right course. 
 Then the second clause will mean, that if any who has appeared 
 walking in the right way, and has, through temptation, gone 
 astray from it, shall, notwithstanding correction, persist in 
 hating reproof and spurning the admonitions of Heaven, he 
 shall die, and his blood shall be upon his own head. God 
 has said " The just shall live by faith ; " but " if he draw 
 back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him." 
 
 2. Understanding the word "grievous" in a sense quite fa- 
 miliar to OUT ear, the verse has been rendered " Correction 
 is irksome tp him that forsaketh the way." The child that
 
 PROVERBS XV. 7 12. 37 
 
 loves instruction, and is really attached to the ways of God, 
 may err, and need correction. But to such a child it will 
 not be irksome or "grievous." It will melt, and shame, 
 and humble, and restore him. But if a child has submitted 
 to instruction and to the ways of virtue by constraint rather 
 than from principle and with a willing mind, when for a 
 time he has " run well," but has tired of the right course, 
 and wilfully forsaken it, for ways of his own, more congenial 
 with the real likings of his heart, to that child correction 
 will be irksome ; it will fret and provoke, instead of reclaim- 
 ing him; will render him sullen, stubborn, and passionate, 
 instead of bringing him in tears of penitence and submission 
 to the feet of the parent whose counsel he has for the time 
 been disregarding. It will have such effects, just in pro- 
 portion as conscience tells him he is in the wrong, while yet 
 his heart continues to hate the right; his inclinations re- 
 sisting conscience, and cleaving to sin and the world. 
 
 And what has place in the family of a pious earthly 
 parent has place among the professed children of God. In 
 the heart of a true spiritual child, the heavy but kind correc- 
 tive visitations of his heavenly Father will produce contri- 
 tion, and all the meltings of penitential sorrow; and they 
 will lay him prostrate before the footstool of the divine 
 throne, with the humble prayer " Hide thy face from my 
 sins, and blot out all mine iniquities. Create in me a clean 
 heart, God; and renew a right spirit within me. Cast 
 me not away from thy presence ; and take not thy Holy Spi- 
 rit from me. Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation ; and 
 uphold me with thy free Spirit," Psal. li. 9 12. 
 
 But in him whose "heart departeth from the Lord," hav- 
 ing never in the fulness of sincerity and truth, been given to 
 Him, the effect will be very different. They will irritate 
 and gall his spirit; drawing out the evil that is in the heart 
 more and more, and occasioning the further and further 
 spurning of the divine yoke, the yoke of God's authority. 
 The consequence of any one's " hating reproof" and spurn- 
 ing the correction that is designed and fitted for his restora- 
 tion, is death: "he shall die." He shall suffer his due
 
 38 LECTURE XXXVIII. 
 
 punishment, in that "second death" which is "the wages of 
 sin."* 
 
 In connexion with such truths as we have been consider- 
 ing from these verses, it is of importance for us ever to re- 
 member, that there is no imposing upon God by outward 
 professions and appearances. Such is the lesson of the ele- 
 venth verse : " Hell and destruction are before the Lord ; 
 how much more then the hearts of the children of men ? " 
 
 Sheol, the word here rendered "hell" may sometimes, as 
 well as its corresponding term Hades in Greek, signify the 
 place of woe. Its general signification, however, is tlie un- 
 seen world the state of the dead. The secrets of that in- 
 visible state, and especially of the prison house of despair 
 itself, are all "before the Lord," though hidden from the 
 eye of man. 
 
 The original word for " destruction" here is Abaddon. The 
 designation is given to the wicked one, as the destroyed 
 " The verse may denote," says Mr. Scott, " that the deepest 
 machinations of the prince of hell, and of all his legions of 
 fallen angels, are open to the Lord's inspection, and must end 
 in their disappointment and deeper torment: how, then, 
 can man, who is so inferior in sagacity and subtlety, expect 
 to hide his counsels from God, or to prosper in rebellion 
 against him?" 
 
 Verse 1 2. " A scorner loveth not one that reproveth 
 him; neither will he go unto the wi^e." 
 
 The " scorner" the despiser of God and divine things, can- 
 not bear reproof; winces, with rising resentment, at every 
 thing that touches and wakes his conscience; dislikes his 
 faithful monitor receiving him with sullen coldness, with 
 disdainful smile, or with abusive contumely, spurning his 
 salutary advice, and possibly traducing and calumniating his 
 character. He " will not go to tlie wise" the truly wise who 
 "fear God" either through proud contempt, or the con- 
 sciousness of being wrong, and inability to bear having tho 
 
 * See chap. i. 30, 31 ; x. 17. t See Rev. ix. 1 1.
 
 PROVERBS XV. 7-12. 39 
 
 wrong exposed and condemned.* Alas ! that this principle 
 should be in our fallen nature so strong and inveterate! 
 
 Careless sinners, your aversion to the word of God, which 
 you secretly feel to be living, powerful, penetrating; your 
 dislike of sermons that are too searching, that come too close 
 to the conscience, that lay open the secrets of the heart, that 
 press upon you the spirituality and damnatory character of 
 the divine law; and your disposition to pick faults, wher- 
 ever you can find them, in the characters of the godly, be- 
 cause you are sensible that their example condemns you 
 are all traceable to this principle. beware of it. It will 
 ruin you. It will be death to you in the end. Listen to 
 conscience. Listen to God. He speaks to you here in the 
 Bible. You may try to throw it aside, and to parry for the 
 time its piercing thrusts. But in your conscience you know 
 and feel that it is divine. comply with its invitations, 
 that you may escape the execiition of its fearful threaten- 
 ings. " BELIEVE AND LIVE." 
 
 * Comp. 2 Cliron. xviii. 7: Isa. xxx. 811 : Amos v. 10: John iii. 
 18; vii. 7.
 
 LECTURE XXXIX. 
 
 PROV. xv. 1320. 
 
 "A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance: but by sorrow of the heart 
 the spirit is broken. The heart of him that hath understanding seeketh know- 
 ledge : but the mouth of fools feedeth on foolishness. All the days of the afflicted 
 are evil: but he that is of a merry heart hath a continual feast. Better is little 
 with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and trouble therewith. Better is 
 a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith. A 
 wrathful man stirreth up strife : but he that is slow to anger appeaseth strife. 
 The way of the slothful man is as an hedge of thorns: but the way of the right- 
 eous is made plain. A wise son maketh a glad father: but a foolish man 
 despiseth his mother." 
 
 THE countenance is the natural index of the mind. Each 
 passion and emotion has its appropriate expression there. It 
 can never be natural for a man to smile when angry, or to 
 weep and frown when happy. The tear is appropriated to 
 sorrow; the frown to anger; the smile to satisfaction and 
 pleasiire. He is the most accomplished hypocrite, who has 
 most successfully learned the art of substituting the one for 
 the other, and so disguising the real state of his feelings : the 
 most unenviable of all accomplishments. 
 
 Yet true it is, that " a cheerful countenance " is not always 
 (and that in other cases than criminal dissimulation) the in- 
 dication of a " merry heart " a really happy spirit ; for, as 
 we have seen, " Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful ; and 
 the end of that mirth is heaviness." 
 
 " A merry heart" in this verse does not mean the false, 
 boisterous, temporary merriment, so frequently alluded to in
 
 PROVERBS XV. 1320. 41 
 
 Scripture, arising from worldly company, intemperance, and 
 dissipation. Neither is it mere light - heartedness mere 
 thoughtless vacant good humour. It is something far higher 
 and better than either. It is the inward peace and joy im- 
 parted by the light of true religion in the soul the happiness 
 expressed by Solomon in similar terms elsewhere, " Go thy 
 way, eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy wine with a merry 
 heart; for God now accepteth thy works," Eccl. ix. 7. Such 
 was the happiness so delightfully exemplified in the primi- 
 tive church when they " did eat their meat with gladness 
 and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favour with 
 all the people." And what imparted this personal and social 
 cheerfulness then is sufficient to impart it now and to the 
 end. True religion, as we have alredy said, but cannot say 
 too often, is the only spring of substantial and satisfactory joy. 
 It is fitted to give it ; it is designed to give it. It is light 
 sun-light, gladdening every heart into which it finds ad- 
 mission. 
 
 And this joy, this inward cheerfulness, this " sunshine of 
 the soul," ought to appear. It should be manifest in the 
 religious man's looks and behaviour. It should smile on 
 his lip, and beam in his eye. It should characterize his 
 whole conversation and course of life. It ought to be so, 
 for the credit of religion. That professor gives not a fair 
 and faithful representation of it, who wraps his profession in 
 the mantle of melancholy. It shoxild be the aim of every 
 believer of God's truth to show that the faith of it has made 
 him happy : not inspiring a mirth that is either frivolous 
 or boisterous ; that expresses itself in the song of the intem- 
 perate, the sportive gaiety of the vain, or the " laughter of the 
 fool ;" but shedding over the soul the light of heaven, a light 
 which " makes the face to shine " and throws the radiance 
 of joy on even the darkest steps of the Christian's path 
 through life. 
 
 By "sorrow of heart" in the latter part of the verse, I 
 would not understand mere grief on account of the bereave- 
 ments, disappointments, and various trials of life, to which 
 the truly godly as well as others are subject. No doubt the
 
 42 LECTURE XXXIX. 
 
 tendency of these, especially when long continued and acccp- 
 mulated, is to "break the spirit" to unnerve it, to deprive it 
 of its tone and vigour, and to unfit for active exertion. Still, 
 it is the excellence and recommendation of true religion, that 
 it gives light even in darkness ; that the joy which it imparts 
 remains even in sorrow, and cheers the spirit when other- 
 wise it would sink and break. " The sorrow of heart " here 
 spoken of, we may consider as that which arises from an evil 
 conscience, from envy, discontent, and other similar sources. 
 Or, if the distresses of life are to be considered as among the 
 causes of the sorrow that " breaks the spirit," we must regard 
 the language as spoken of those who have the sorrow with- 
 out the sustaining and cheering consolation. And in this 
 we may be countenanced by the terms of the fifteenth verse, 
 which, for the sake of connexion of subject and sentiment, 
 we take in here : " All the days of tne afflicted are evil : 
 but he that is of a merry heart hath a continual feast." 
 " Tlic afflicted" are evidently the afflicted in situation, irith- 
 out the cheerful spirit or " merry heart " to support them. To 
 such the days are indeed " evil" They pass away very 
 drearily. There is no relief; no light in the gloom; nothing 
 to counteract or counterbalance the woe. " Eut he that is 
 of a merry heart hath a continual feast" The spirit of 
 cheerful piety bestows a feast richer and better than royal 
 dainties. These will not procure true happiness. There 
 may be perfect wretchedness at the best-furnished table. 
 The " rich man clothed in purple and fine linen, and faring 
 sumptuously every day," may be too often has been dis- 
 contented, envious, anxious, gloomy, melancholy; his feasts 
 not enjoyed; his wines, and his delicate and costly viands 
 not relished. Even in poverty, with all its attendant ills, a 
 spirit such as that we have before described will be " a con- 
 tinual feast." A crust of bread and a mouthful of water, with 
 a contented and cheerful heart especially a heart sustained 
 and gladdened by the " joys of God's salvation," a heart in 
 which the fountains of peace and delight have been opened 
 by the Spirit of God -will be partaken with incomparably 
 more enjoyment than all the luxuries that wealth can procure.
 
 PROVERBS XV. 1320. 43 
 
 '' All the days of the afflicted are evil ; " for affliction is 
 not in itself "joyous but grievous." But the feast of him 
 who is of " a merry heart," who has within himself the 
 sources of true joy, is not terminated, is not even suspended 
 in the season of affliction. His feast is independent of 
 changing condition. He often relishes it most, when other 
 sweets are embittered. Often is his inward spiritual festivity 
 the richest, when the supply of his outward and earthly 
 comforts is scantiest. Yes; and to those who enjoy this 
 " continual feast " on earth, it is but the prelude and the fore- 
 taste of the everlasting feast of heaven. 
 
 We may fairly consider the next verse as indicating the 
 nature of the feast the mental, the spiritual feast of which 
 the verses we have been expounding affirm the excellence : 
 " The heart of him that hath understanding seeketh know- 
 ledge ; but the momth of fools feedeth on foolishness." 
 It is the feast of " knowledge " above all, of divine know- 
 ledge. He who has " understanding " who is enlight- 
 ened of God, and discerns the excellence and glory of divine 
 truth " seeJceth " such knowledge. From experience of 
 the enjoyment already imparted by it, he seeks more, and 
 still more the appetite growing by gratification, delighted 
 with every neAv discovery, yet never tiring of the old.* And 
 that in " seeking knowledge " the idea of "feasting " on it is 
 included, is evident from the terms of the antithesis : " but 
 the mouth of fools feedeth on foolishness." That is what 
 they like; that is, therefore, what they seek, and from 
 which they have their own poor and pitiful enjoyment. 
 What feasts the very soul of the wise and good, to him is 
 tasteless and even nauseous. In regard to religion itself, they 
 " feed on foolishness.'' They are taken with everything, how 
 absurd soever it may be, that serves the present purpose 
 of keeping all quiet within ; that lets conscience alone ; 
 that dispenses with serious thought, and, preventing inward 
 disturbance, allows them to go on easily and comfortably in 
 " the sight of their eyes and the imagination of their hearts." 
 
 * 1 Peter ii. 13.
 
 44 LECTURE XXXIX. 
 
 They have a relish for all doctrines of this easy tin-annoying 
 description, that " prick not their hearts " that embitter 
 not present sweets by any forebodings of the future that 
 " prophesy smooth things, and cause the Holy One of Israel 
 to cease from before them " the scarer of their thoughtless 
 mirth and sinful gratification. They have an appetite for 
 everything of that kind, and cry up to the skies the preachers 
 who dispense it. But it is indeed " feeding on foolishness ;" 
 and the folly shall be manifest at last, when that on which 
 they have fed " shall be turned to the gall of asps within 
 them." 
 
 The idea of a feast is evidently in Solomon's mind through 
 the whole passage : and that, in the fifteenth verse, he de- 
 signs a contrast between the godly and contented poor man 
 enduring the afflictions of a state of prjvatioii and want, and 
 the ungodly and discontented rich man, in the enjoyment of 
 all the world's fulness, is the more probable from what 
 follows : " Better is little with the fear of the Lord than 
 great treasure and trouble therewith." Here we have the 
 source and character of the mirth intended. It is, as we 
 have been assuming, the happy serenity and cheerfulness 
 springing from true religion from " the fear of the Lord.'' 
 And this too is the "understanding " meant in the fourteenth 
 verse, as this fear is " the beginning of wisdom." 
 
 " Trouble" in the latter part of the sixteenth verse, may 
 be understood in various senses, either of which yields a 
 meaning to the verse in harmony with truth. It may signify 
 bodily affliction : in which case, the explanation of the verse 
 will be, that poverty with health and cheerfulness is better 
 than wealth with such corporeal trouble as incapacitates for 
 its enjoyment. It may signify trouble of-uvnA an/1 conscience: 
 and then the sentiment will be, that poverty with peace 
 of mind is far preferable to riches with the disquietude of 
 conscious guilt and self-dissatisfaction ; poverty with a good 
 conscience better than wealth with an accusing and evil con- 
 science; poverty with a conscience pacified by the blood of 
 sprinkling, better than abundance with a conscience to which 
 tiiat peace-speaking blood has never been applied. Or it may
 
 PROVERBS XV. 1320. 45 
 
 signify, the trouble of domestic discord and broils: and 
 then the lesson will be that poverty with domestic union 
 and peace, springing from and hallowed by the influence 
 of true religion, is incomparably superior to riches the most 
 profuse connected with the absence of such love and har- 
 mony, with alienation, hostility, and strife. What a 
 wretched compensation are " thousands of gold and silver " 
 for the want of affection and peace the absence of what the 
 poet calls " that only happiness which has survived the fall " 
 domestic happiness! 
 
 This last view of the sixteenth verse is specified in that 
 which follows : " Better is a dinner of herbs where love 
 is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith." Some, indeed, 
 would explain this verse in reference to the entertainer 
 and his company the "master of the feast and his guests," 
 and to the company and guests among themselves ; mak- 
 ing the meaning (and it is a true one) to be, that slender 
 cheer, with a cordial welcome, is sweeter far than the costliest 
 profusion with a manifest grudge, or with sentiments of 
 mutual distrust and strife among those who partake of it. 
 But the sentiment is applicable, with a special force of em- 
 phasis, to domestic life. In proportion to the delightful 
 sweetness of the concord in which the fond affections of 
 nature and grace bind the members of a family in one happy 
 social circle all being of one heart and one sold dividing 
 the cares, and more than doubling the enjoyments of life by 
 mutual participation and sympathy, all bosoms throbbing 
 with a common pulsation, all lips Avearing a common smile, 
 and all eyes filled from a common fountain of tears in pro- 
 portion to the delightful SAveetness of such a scene, is the 
 wretchedness of its reA-erse : and there is no one who has 
 experienced either the sweetness or the wretchedness espe- 
 cially the former that will not subscribe to the sentiment 
 so simply yet in effect so strongly expressed in the verse 
 before us. 
 
 There is much in the Bible that bears most kindly on the 
 condition of the poor. Throughout it, the Lord is ever 
 expressing towards them His special sympathy and care. Is
 
 46 LECTURE XXXIX. 
 
 not tliis the case here? Are not the sentiments of these 
 verses deserving of their special attention and interest? If 
 you have not the wealth of this world, but are doomed to 
 toil and to comparative penury think of what is here so 
 truthfully affirmed. If you have in you the fear of the Lord ; 
 if you have a sense of His love, and the assurance that that 
 love orders every particular in your lot; if you have the 
 contented and happy spirit which the conviction of this is 
 fitted to inspire ; and if to you the domestic scene is one of 
 affectionate and delightful harmony, all hallowed and blessed 
 by the same holy and heavenly principle of "pure religion 
 and undefiled " why should you be " envious at the 
 foolish, when you see the prosperity of the wicked ? " If the 
 abundance of the man of this world is associated with trouble, 
 or with discord, or with hatred and above all with His dis- 
 pleasure who " hateth all the workers of iniquity " would 
 you exchange conditions with such 1 ? ISTo, my " brethren of low 
 degree, you would not." Never was there a spirit that enjoyed 
 such perfect peace as His who said " Foxes have holes, and 
 birds of the air have nests ; but the Son of Man hath not where 
 to lay his head." And HE says to every one of his followers 
 " Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you : not 
 as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be 
 troubled, neither let it be afraid." That peace may be found 
 in the bosom and at the board of the poorest among you ; and, 
 possessing it, you will let the man of earth enjoy his " stalled 
 ox," and sit doAvn in contented cheerfulness to your " dinner of 
 herbs" your scanty but divinely provided and blessed feast of 
 love. And well were it if the minds of the young were early and 
 deeply imbued with the spirit and sentiment of these verses ; 
 if they had early instilled into them just conceptions of the 
 nature and sources of true happiness, lest they fall into the 
 fatal but sadly prevalent delusion that wealth insures it ; and 
 thus make wealth their leading star their first and unceas- 
 ing aim! My young friends, these verses contain truth 
 divine truth truth authenticated by the recorded experience 
 of ages truth that cannot fail, so obvious is it, to come home 
 fully to the convictions of your judgments. It is the same
 
 PROVERBS XV. 1320. 47 
 
 truth as that so forcibly stated and illustrated by "the 
 faithful witness" the Lord Jesus himself.* And with 
 what self-evidencing simplicity is the sentiment expressed 
 by the apostle, when he says, " Godliness with contentment 
 is great gain. For we brought nothing into this world, and 
 it is certain we can carry nothing out. And having food and 
 raiment, let us be therewith content," 1 Tim. vi. 6 8. 
 They who have " godliness with contentment," " have all 
 and abound." They have a treasure in the heart a trea- 
 sure in the house and a treasure in heaven; a treasure 
 for time, and a treasure for eternity ! 
 
 Verse 1 8. " A wrathful man stirreth up strife : but he 
 that is slow to anger appeaseth wrath." Some would con- 
 nect this verse with the preceding; and, according to this 
 supposed connection, the meaning is, that a passionate man 
 is a disturber of the peace and enjoyment of the quietest 
 and happiest company. It may, however, be understood 
 more generally, as depicting the hasty, hot, resentful spirit, 
 which startles touchily at every word or look ; finds meanings 
 in them that have no existence but in a perverted fancy ; 
 catches fire in a moment ; breathes vengeance ; and by high 
 words stirs up the spirits of others, and kindles the flames 
 of discord. In contrast with which is the spirit that is 
 " slow to anger" and appeaseth wrath the meek and quiet 
 spirit which " is in the sight of God of great price." 
 
 Verse 19. "The way of the slothful man is as an hedge 
 of thorns; but the way of the righteous is made plain." 
 
 The meaning is sufficiently obvious. " The slothful" fan- 
 cies, as apologies for lazy inaction, innumerable obstacles 
 and difficulties anything as a reason for sitting stilL And 
 not merely does he anticipate obstacles to beginning, he is 
 ever discovering them as reasons for desisting; finding out 
 that further exertion is vain, that there is no getting on, 
 that all is " a hedge of thorns" at once annoying and im- 
 practicable, that the expectation of ever accomplishing his 
 end is quite Utopian, that he must give up at any rate 
 
 * Luke xii. 1320.
 
 43 LECTURE XXXIX. 
 
 some time or other, and therefore better now, seeing if the 
 thing cannot be satisfactorily carried out, it is wise not to 
 expend more useless toil And he will argue this with no 
 little plausibility; for "the sluggard is wiser in his own con- 
 ceit than seven men that can render a reason." 
 
 On the contrary, " the way of the righteous" of him 
 whose heart, under the influence of right principles, is set 
 on the right discharge of duty " is made plain." It is cast 
 up; it is paved. God whom he serves, makes obstacles di- 
 minish and disappear before him. Those he feared might 
 prove insuperable, lessen and vanish as he nears them. He 
 is surprised to find how they give way. When obstacles 
 are previously seen, he sets his heart to them ; looks at them 
 in all their discouraging magnitude, and looks at the same 
 time to GOD to Him "who giveth power to the faint, and 
 to them that have no might iiicreaseth strength;" and in 
 this strength "the strength of the Lord God," he goes on 
 and perseveres unto the end. Difficulties are thus sur- 
 mounted. The way becomes increasingly "plain." The 
 "hedge of thorns" is cleared away. "Darkness is made 
 light before him, and crooked things straight." 
 
 In the whole of your spiritual warfare, brethren, put your 
 trust in God in the divine " Captain of your salvation." 
 He leads you to victory. Shrink not to follow Him. He will 
 never leave you; let no unworthy and dastardly fears tempt 
 you to leave Him. Let no indolence embrace your loins. 
 Let no difficulties or dangers in the way daunt you. Press 
 after His banner. Through HIM you shall do valiantly. 
 Let your encouragement be " In Jehovah have I righteous- 
 ness and strength." With His righteousness to justify you, 
 and his strength to protect and save you, you shall be more 
 than conquerors ! 
 
 Sinners, beware of indolent supineness in " the tilings 
 that belong unto your peace," in the concerns of your soul's 
 salvation. I call not upon you to be "up and doing," that 
 you may work out that salvation for yourselves. That 
 is a work of which the honour belongs to another. The 
 Son of God is the only Saviour. You are not to save your-
 
 PROVERBS XV. 1320. 49 
 
 
 
 selves, but to come to Christ for salvation. Defer not this 
 under any false impression of difficulties and intercepting 
 obstacles in your path, frightening you from the attempt. 
 There is no such thing. It is all illusion. If there are ob- 
 stacles in the path, they must be put there by yourselves ; 
 for there are none no not one of God's interposing. He 
 has cleared all away. There is no "hedge of thorns" be- 
 tween you and Christ. On the ground of his finished work 
 the work that justifies the ungodly he stands ready to 
 receive you; and God stands ready to receive you for his 
 sake. Believe what this divine Book testifies of him as 
 divinely true ; and, in the spirit of felt necessity, of simpli- 
 city, of confidence, of self-renouncing humility, of grateful 
 joy, cast yourselves, without fear or misgiving, on the riches 
 of his grace : " for the same Lord over all is rich unto all 
 that call upon him." 
 
 ii.
 
 LECTURE XL. 
 
 PROV. xv. 2133. 
 
 ' Folly is joy to him that is destitute of wisdom: but a man of understanding 
 walketh uprightly. Without counsel purposes are disappointed: but in the 
 multitude of counsellors they are established. A man hath joy by the answer 
 of his mouth; and a word spoken in due season, how good is it! The way of 
 life is above to the wise, that he may depart from hell beneath. The Lord will 
 destroy the house of the proud: but he will establish the border of the widow. 
 The thoughts of the wicked are an abomination to the Lord: but the words of 
 the pure are pleasant words. He that is greedy of gain trouhleth his own house; 
 but lie that hateth gifts shall live. The heart of the righteous studieth to an- 
 swer: but the mouth of the wicked poureth out evil things. The Lord is far 
 from the wicked: but he heareth the prayer of the righteous. The light of the 
 eyes rejoiceth the heart ; and a good report maketh the bones fat. The ear that 
 hearetli the reproof of life abideth among the wise. He that refuseth instruc- 
 tion despiseth liis own soul : but lie that heareth reproof getteth understanding. 
 The fear of the Lord is the instruction of wisdom ; and before honour is 
 humility." 
 
 "Jor" in "folly!" in the frivolous and wicked pursuits of 
 a frivolous and wicked world ! the miserable pleasure ! 
 the sorrow-breeding joy ! Who seeks such joy is emphati- 
 cally " destitute of wisdom." The truly wise " the man of 
 understanding, walketh uprightly ; " adheres closely and steadily 
 to the dictates of divine authority, with a single eye, a 
 "heart right with God." He has no delight in folly; no joy 
 in seeing, or hearing, or doing, or uttering it. He " abhors 
 that which is evil, and cleaves to that which is good." 
 When witnessing folly in others, he feels with the Psalmist 
 " Rivers of waters run down mine eyes because they keep 
 not thy law."
 
 PROVERBS XV. 2133. 51 
 
 Verse 22. "Without counsel purposes are disappointed: 
 but in the multitude of counsellors they are established."* 
 This verse has been rendered, according to its true spirit 
 "Designs not well weighed shall miscarry; but when 
 many have well deliberated, they shall succeed." 
 
 In these words there is still a connexion with folly. 
 Hasty schemes projects of crude and rash formation, and 
 precipitate execution bid fair to prove abortive. Such 
 projects and schemes characterise the fooL They are the 
 product of his self-sufficient conceit, and contempt of coun- 
 sel. The miscarriage of them, anticipated by all but him- 
 self, covers him with confusion, and involves himself and 
 others in difficulty and distress. Self-diffidence is always 
 becoming. Even when we must rely on our own judgment, 
 from a calm conviction of our better acquaintance with the 
 principles, and facts, and likelihoods of any case still it 
 ought to be with humility. 
 
 The word translated " counsel" is by some rendered secrecy. 
 And, on very many occasions, few things are of more conse- 
 quence to success; secrecy of consultation as to the best 
 means of accomplishing important purposes, and secrecy 
 among those concerned in their actual prosecution. For want 
 of this, how many designs of the utmost moment have been 
 doomed to frustration ! But when there is faithful fellowship 
 in consultation and execution, and no one left ^consulted 
 whose knowledge might be turned to good account, and whose 
 advice might preclude one or other of the possibilities of 
 disappointment tin's is what, by the blessing of God, is 
 most likely to ensure success. I say by the Ilex/ting of God. 
 O let it never be forgotten, that without that all is fruitless 
 even the union of the soundest judgments, and the best 
 concerted and best adjusted plans. The two words of the 
 lute lamented and martyred Williams must never be sepa- 
 rated, TRY and TRUST. 
 
 Verse 23. "A man hath joy by the answer of his mouth; 
 and a word spoken in due season, how good is it ! " 
 
 * Coin p. chap. xi. 14.
 
 52 LECTURE XL. 
 
 Some would connect this verso with the preceding. He 
 who, among "a multitude of counsellors," suggests a happy 
 thought a wise, prudent, sure, and safe expedient that had 
 not occurred to the rest that man " hath joy hy the answer 
 of his mouth:" he has the joy of gaining the approbation 
 and thanks of others, and of seeing happy results from his 
 advice being followed. 
 
 More generally : when a wise, prudent, and pious man is 
 enabled to give a salutary advice, in a matter of moment, at 
 a seasonable time, in a manner at once convincing and per- 
 suasive, intelligent and winning, so as to conduce to the 
 desired effect, in preventing the adoption or arresting the 
 prosecution of mischievous measures, in keeping back or 
 reclaiming from error and sin, in supporting the distressed, 
 in supplying the destitute, in confirming the irresolute, 
 in turning and strengthening the tempted, in directing 
 the rash and improvident, in promoting, in whatever way, 
 the benefit of others immense good may be effected; 
 and this, having sprung from his suggestion, will give joy to 
 his heart.* 
 
 We are reminded afresh, that "the word spoken" must 
 be not only "good," but "in due season" when circum- 
 stances are such as, instead of hindering the desired effect, 
 will second and help on the advice. To be really " f/ood" 
 indeed, an advice must be good in the time and the manner, 
 as well as in the matter of it. Persons who overlook this, 
 wonder that they should fail ; '-they can't understand it. 
 Yet they might. If they would only look within and re- 
 flect whether, were the same counsel given to them at such 
 a time, in such a manner, and in such circumstances, it would 
 not equally fail 
 
 The remark as to " due season," holds with special force 
 in regard to admonitions to the men of the world bearing 
 on religion of all subjects the most unpalatable, and re- 
 specting which they are most jealous and sensitive. How 
 
 * \V<; have an apt illustration in the case of David and Abie/ail 
 tjaiu. xxv. 32, 33.
 
 PROVERBS XV. 2133. 53 
 
 often do well-meaning but injudicious Christians do mis- 
 chief, by obtruding their sentiments and their counsels, with- 
 out in the least considering when or how! 
 
 Yet, let us again be warned against covering ourselves from 
 the reprehensions of conscience under the convenient shield 
 of necessary prudence, and thus lose, as alas ! we too often do, 
 many an opportunity of which, without the violation of any 
 rule of propriety or delicacy, we might avail ourselves for the 
 good of others. Let us be jealous of ourselves on the side 
 on which we are most in hazard of erring the side, gener- 
 ally, of undue reserve and dastardly timidity. 
 
 The word in the following verse translated "above" may, 
 without any material alteration of its meaning, be rendered 
 upwards : " The way of life is upwards for the wise, that he 
 may depart from hell beneath." 
 
 There is a way of life, and a way of death, an upward and 
 a downward way. "The way of life" it is the great purpose 
 of the Bible to reveal That way has been the same from the 
 hour when " sin entered into the world." Then God made 
 it known. Whatever was required, in vindication of the 
 divine character in human forgiveness and salvation, must 
 have been required from the first. "Whatever was required 
 at "the fulness of time" must have been equally required 
 at the expulsion from paradise. The character of God was 
 at both periods the same. The principles of His govern- 
 ment, and the demands of His law were the same. The 
 way of life for sinners, therefore, must have been the same. 
 Though the atonement was not immediately made it was 
 immediately needed, and it was immediately announced and 
 promised. It was quite competent for that God who " know- 
 eth the end from the beginning," to proceed immediately 
 upon the credit of what was afterwards to be done. The 
 words of Jesus " / am the way," were true not only when 
 he uttered them, but for all past and all future ages. That 
 way, announced in the first promise, and " witnessed by the 
 law and the prophets, " was, at the " fulness of time," clearly 
 made known as a way open for sinners, and to remain open 
 to the end. " Righteous Abel" went to heaven by this
 
 54 LECTURE XL. 
 
 way, as aged iSimeon did, as Stephen did, as every dying 
 believer has since done, and as the last sinner, saved from the 
 earth must do. This "way of life" the way of faith and 
 holiness is upwards. It leads to heaven to the celestial 
 world, with all its " fulness of joy and pleasures for evermore." 
 
 It is "for the wise." The foolish are not found there. 
 They despise the way, and refuse to walk in, or to enter it. 
 They shut their ear. They turn away their foot. They 
 choose counsels of their own. But all who are " wise," 
 all who do not, in the spirit of infatuation, "forsake their 
 own mercies," are found in this way. And they are wise ; 
 for it is set before them, " that they may depart from hell 
 beneath." Fools take the downward road. It is easily 
 found, and easily kept. It is full of company. It is 
 full of allurements bewitching, fascinating allurements, 
 whose true nature is concealed under all that is tempting in 
 appearance and promise. It is in accordance, alas ! with the 
 inclinations and tendencies of corrupt nature. The "up- 
 ward" road is to that nature unattractive. It presents obsta- 
 cles, privations, and hardships. It seems, as in the Pilgrim's 
 Progress it is designated " the hill of difficulty." But 
 the truly wise will disregard the hindrances by which the 
 way is ever, on the part of Satan, most artfully beset. He 
 will press into it ; he will deny himself ; he will " go in the 
 strength of the Lord God." He knows it to be the way of 
 life; that were there nothing else in it to the end than 
 hardships, toils, and trials, still it leads "upwards" away 
 from the pit beneath to the paradise above, from hell to 
 heaven. And he finds, by sweet experience, that in this 
 way there are present compensations, far more than sufficient 
 to counterbalance all with which he is required to part; 
 blessings, and joys, and hopes, incomparably better than 
 aught the downward way offers to its deluded frequenters. 
 It is " the way of life " even now the way of present plea- 
 santness, the path of present peace ! 
 
 Verse 25. " The Lord will destroy the house of the proud : 
 but he will establish the border of the widow." 
 
 From the style of the antithesis, between the proud and
 
 PROVERBS XV. 2133. 55 
 
 the rci low, we are naturally led to conceive a special allusion 
 to the haughty oppressor of the desolate and unprotected 
 to the overbearing worldling who insolently abuses his 
 power, in lording it over his poor dependents. Jehovah 
 gives ample warning to all of the interest He takes in the 
 cause of " the widow and the fatherless," and of his deep dis- 
 pleasure against all their oppressors.* We may well tremble 
 tu think of promoting our own advantage, in any way, or in 
 any degree, at their expense. Woe to the man who does 
 so ! GOD will see to it. What is so acquired cannot be en- 
 joyed with either a quiet conscience or the smile of heaven. 
 It is an accursed thing. It is the wedge of gold and the 
 Babylonish garment, by which the blessing of righteousness 
 and mercy is turned away. 
 
 " The proud," just alluded to, are but one description of the 
 more general character in the next verse " The thoughts of 
 the wicked are an abomination to the Lord : but the words 
 of the pure are pleasant words." Or thus, " Hateful to the 
 Lord are the thoughts of the wicked; but pleasant are the 
 words of the pure" pleasant, that is, to the Lord. It is 
 said, "The Lord is a God of knowledge; by him actions are 
 weighed." But His knowledge goes further than to actions. 
 ' The Lord searcheth all hearts, and understandeth ,all the 
 imaginations of the thoughts." Not one thought, sinner, 
 passes through your mind, though fleetly as the " arrows of 
 light," that escapes His notice. Your most secret imagin- 
 ings; your most momentary wishes and purposes; ideas 
 never uttered; designs never executed "all are naked to 
 His view." That circumstances have prevented the execu- 
 tion of any purpose, does not in the least interfere with or 
 mitigate the criminality of the intention. Of the good that 
 David intended to do, God said, " It was well that it was 
 in thy heart : " and so the evil that is in the heart of the 
 sinner brings upon him guilt, rebuke, and condemnation. 
 " The law is spiritual : " " Whoso looketh on a woman to 
 
 * See Deut. x. 17, 18. "et loc. al. Psal. Ixviii. 5, 6; cxlvi. 9: Jam. 
 i. 27.
 
 56 LECTURE XL. 
 
 lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in 
 his heart;" and that unchaste thought is "an abomination 
 to the Lord." " He that hateth his brother in liis heart is 
 a murderer;" and that thought of malice and envy, the em- 
 bryo of murder, is "an abomination to the Lord." The 
 heart may thus be steeped in impurity, and indictable for 
 a brother's blood, while no overt act has discovered its hid- 
 den secrets to men. 
 
 "But pleasant are the words of the pure." The pure 
 stand in contrast with the wicked. They have been the 
 acceptable worshippers of Jehovah in every age.* In 
 them the promise of the Xew Covenant has been fulfilled 
 Jehovah having "written his laws in their hearts," having 
 " taken away the stony heart out of their flesh, and given 
 them a heart of flesh," having "given them a new heart and 
 put within them a right spirit." They have " purified their 
 souls in obeying the truth." They have been " washed and 
 sanctified.". The "words" of such, evidently supposed to be 
 in harmony with their character pure words, are "pleasant" 
 to the Lord. The child of God may have little else in his 
 power than holy discourse. Other means of usefulness may 
 not, in providence, have been conferred on him. He may have 
 little wealth, little authority, little influence. The very at- 
 tempts which, by the only means in his power, he makes at 
 doing good, may fail But even the attempt is "pleasant," being 
 made with an eye to the divine glory, and a benevolent wish 
 to advance the happiness of fellow-creatures. What he speaks 
 for God, however humble the manner of it, and however 
 lowly the company amongst whom it is uttered, God ap- 
 proves and records. " A book of remembrance is written be- 
 fore him for them that fear him and think on his name." 
 Their words may not be uttered in the society and in the 
 ears of the great; but if they are pure words, proceeding 
 from a pure heart, they are more acceptable to God than 
 the words of the mighty and the noble coming from hearts 
 not "right with Him." As "the filthy conversation of the 
 
 * See Psal. xxiv. 4; Ixxiii. 1: Matth. v. 8.
 
 PROVERBS XV. 2133. 57 
 
 wicked" is not the loss offensive and hateful to God, because 
 it comes from the lips of high-born nobility, so the conver- 
 sation of his sanctified children sounds not less pleasing to 
 his ears for the meanness of their birth or the poverty of 
 their condition. See to it, rich and poor alike, that all your 
 words are words of purity. " Let your speech be always 
 with grace, seasoned with salt." " Let no corrupt communi- 
 cation proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good, 
 to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the 
 hearers." 
 
 Verse 27. "He that is greedy of gain troubleth his 
 own house; but he that hateth gifts shall live." 
 
 A man may be " greedy of gain" for two opposite purposes 
 to hoard or to spend. He who hoards " troubleth his own 
 house." He pinches both himself and them. He allows 
 them to starve in the midst of plenty. He frets at every 
 outlay. He grudges every comfort. Even necessary food 
 and clothing are furnished in the scantiest measure, and of 
 the meanest kind. He is hardly reconciled to the constitu- 
 tion of nature, which makes these requisite. He would fain 
 make out living without them; but since this cannot be, 
 his next best is to find out the minimum the least on 
 which nature can subsist. A poor, famished, troubled house- 
 hold truly, is the household of him whose great aim is to gripe 
 and to keep ! 
 
 Then, many a time, the man who, in his " greed of gain," 
 " hastes to be rich" is one who " troubles his own house.". 
 He plunges into rash and hazardous speculations incessantly 
 varying and precipitately executed schemes anything that 
 holds out a promise, although ever so precarious, of a quick 
 and large return. It -is luck or ruin. Hence perpetual ap- 
 prehension, inordinate anxiety, carking care care often too 
 well founded, and ending in sudden loss, and wreck of fortune. 
 
 The " greed of gain" may lead a man to worse still to the 
 use of questionable, and even of flagrantly dishonest and ini- 
 quitous methods of acquiring it : which, when detected, (and 
 how rarely do they escape detection !) bring on him utter 
 disgrace, disgrace too often unjustly and cruelly attaching
 
 53 LECTURE XL. 
 
 to his family ; while they must endure the distress to manj 
 sensitive miuds amounting to agony of witnessing his expo- 
 sure and dishonour. Often, alas ! has the man of avarice 
 been the "troubler of his house" by plans and courses of un 
 righteousness, meanness, falsehood, cruelty, oppression, and 
 even murder! 
 
 The last clause of the verse implies that in the first there 
 is a special, though not an exclusive, reference to the taking 
 of gifts or bribes; for the antithesis is between him that is 
 " greedy of gain " and him that " hateth gifts." The receiving of 
 bribes by men in situations of responsible influence, is one of 
 the evils that is often produced by greed of gain. But "he 
 that hateth gifts shall live:" that iSj shall enjoy life shall 
 live in comfort, in domestic harmony, in social happiness, in 
 the secure possession of a good conscience, a good name, and 
 the blessing of GOD. 
 
 Verse 28. "The heart of the righteous studieth to an- 
 swer: but the mouth of the wicked poureth out evil things." 
 
 What is before said* of the wise and the foolish is said 
 here of the righteous and the wicked: and what is before 
 said of the utterance of wisdom and folly, is here said of the 
 utterance of good and evil. We have repeatedly seen how 
 Solomon identifies these in his statements. Wickedness 
 is folly ; goodness is wisdom. There is, in this verse, a very 
 important feature in the working of right principle. " The 
 heart" that is, the mind or inward part generally, not the 
 affections merely, as we are wont to use the word heart, but 
 the judgment also " the heart of the righteous studieth to 
 answer." He considers what he should say, as well as what 
 he should do; knowing what an amount of evil or of good 
 often depends on words. The fear of -God, and the love of 
 his neighbour combine to dictate this. 
 
 What is, in the latter part of the verse, affirmed of " the 
 wicked" they "pour out evil things," implies recklessness 
 alike as to the evil of what they say in itself, and the effects, 
 often serious, which it may produce ; as if they gloried in 
 
 * Verse 2. and chap. xii. 23.
 
 PROVERBS XV. 2133. 59 
 
 the freedom of their tongue to utter what they please; say- 
 ing, " Our lips are our own; who is Lord over us?" They 
 even get into tlie habit of thus " pouring out evil things/' 
 as in the case of the profane swearer, and then derive their 
 plea in extenuation, from the very consideration that proves 
 the evil to have attained its greatest height that they have 
 got so much accustomed to it that they can't help II ! And, 
 while they are wounding the sensibilities of all who hear 
 them, they wonder what they can have said that should be 
 so f itfensive ! 
 
 Verse 29. "The Lord is far from the wicked: but he 
 heareth the prayer of the righteous." 
 
 In an important sense the Lord is near alike near, to 
 all,-* and none can ever "go from his presence or flee from 
 his Spirit." But such phraseology as that in the former 
 part of this verse is often used to express, not actual, or phy- 
 sical, nearness or distance, but states of mind. And the 
 words, on this principle, may mean, either the state of mind 
 of the wicked towards God, or the state of God's mind to- 
 wards the wicked. 
 
 Here the words relate to the latter, as is clearly indicated 
 by the antithesis in the second clause of the verse. The 
 meaning is, that the Lord has no complacency in the wicked. 
 There is an infinitude of distance between His purity and 
 their evil principles and courses. These He holds in abhor- 
 rence ; and they who follow them are not, and cannot be the 
 objects of his love and care ; of those whom He guides by 
 his counsel, shields by his power, cheers by his smile, and 
 ''receives to glory." He "knoweth them afar off;" keeps 
 aloof from them ; sets his face against them ; admits them 
 not into his presence; and at last banishes them from him 
 for ever! 
 
 But " He heareth the prayer of the righteous"-^ What a 
 delightful assurance is this ! What a blessing to know that 
 Jehovah is near; with an open car, a loving heart, and a 
 
 * Psal. cxxxix. 35: Prov. xv. :): Acts xvii. 27. 
 Comp. Psal. xxxiv. 15, lo; Ixvl. 18, 19; cxlv. 1720.
 
 60 LECTURE XL. 
 
 strong hand !* The LORD is his people's friend in need. He 
 listens to all their requests; places all He has to their ac- 
 count, for the supply of their every want ; and maintains an 
 endearing intimacy with them.t His people never need "go 
 forward but he is not there; or backward but they cannot 
 perceive him." Never-need they suppose him " hiding him- 
 self that they cannot see him." The supposition is " their 
 infirmity T It is baseless. He withdraws not from them; 
 but they from him. He is " ever near to them that call upon 
 him, to them that call upon him in truth." "In six 
 troubles he is with them ; in seven he does not forsake them." 
 " His ear is never heavy that it cannot hear, nor his arm 
 shortened that it cannot save." " He is nigh to them that 
 be of a broken heart, and saveth such as be of a contrite 
 spirit." 
 
 Verse 30. "The light of the eyes rejoiceth the heart, 
 and a good report maketh the bones fat." 
 
 Light is, as formerly noticed, the natural emblem of joy. 
 What joy, when light springs up in the midst of darkness, 
 bringing into view all the glories and beauties of nature ! 
 What new, strange, thrilling ecstacy of emotion, when light 
 is let in upon the eyes of the blind ! As light is thus joy- 
 ous, so is a "good report" or good reputation to the heart of 
 him who enjoys it. It "maketh the bones fat." 'J The bones 
 may be called the foundation of the corporeal structure, on 
 which its strength and stability depend. The cavities and 
 cellular parts of the bones are filled with the marrow; of 
 which the fine oil, by one of the beautiful processes of the 
 animal physiology, pervades their substance, and, incorpo- 
 rating with the earthy and siliceous material, gives them 
 their cohesive tenacity; a provision without which they 
 would be brittle and easily fractured. " Making the bones 
 fat" means supplying them with plenty of marrow, and thus 
 strengthening the entire system. Hence " marrow to the 
 bones," is a Bible figure for anything eminently gratifying 
 
 * 1 John v. 14, 15. f See Luke xi. 913; John xiv. 2123. 
 
 J Coinp. Isa. Iviii. 1 1.
 
 PROVERBS XV. 2133. 61 
 
 and beneficial. The idea is strongly brought out in the 
 words " And when ye see this, your heart shall rejoice, and 
 your bones shall flourish like an herb : and the hand of the 
 Lord shall be known toward his servants, and his indigna- 
 tion toward his enemies," Isa. Ixvi. 14. The bones "flour- 
 ishing like the green herb" like an herb copiously sup 
 plied with moisture evidently means the firm, healthy, 
 lively action of the whole system. The import, then, of 
 the expression, "a good report maketh the bones fat," is, 
 that a good reputation contributes eminently to enjoyment, 
 to comfort, health, active vigour, spirit, life, and happiness. 
 
 By some, however, "a good report" is understood of good 
 tidings; and they conceive "the light of the eyes," to re- 
 fer to the happy, glancing looks of the messenger of such 
 tidings. The eyes of a friend glisten with gladness when he 
 comes as the bearer of pleasant news. And, as " the light of 
 his eyes rejoices the heart," so the "good report" itself 
 which he brings, makes " fat the bones." It cheers and ani- 
 mates the spirit, and thus contributes to the liveliness and 
 vigour of the body itself. 
 
 Verse 31." The ear that heareth the reproof of life abid- 
 eth among the wise." The "reproof of life" evidently sig- 
 nifies the admonition of which the tendency and the inten- 
 tion are life the life of him to whom it is addressed his 
 present and future happiness. And this verse may mean 
 that the disposition to listen to the "reproof of life" is to be 
 found among the wise. That is its appropriate place. It 
 belongs to the wise, is a feature of their character. The 
 contrary the rejection and disregard of that reproof is dis- 
 tinctive of the fool.* 
 
 The words may also intimate that he who has once re- 
 ceived aright, in sincerity and truth, " the reproof of life," will 
 thenceforward abide among the wise. He will fix his lot 
 with them. He will permanently abandon the company of 
 the foolish and the wicked. He will not return whence he 
 came, but from his experience of the happiness found through 
 
 * For furthur illustration of the general sentiment, see chap. i. 5, 6; 
 ix. 7 y.
 
 62 LECTURE XL. 
 
 the heavenly life introduced into his soul will cleave to the 
 Lord and to his people. 
 
 That "the reproof of life" is here to be understood in the 
 highest sense, is clear from what follows " He that refuseth 
 instruction despiseth his own soul: but he that heareth re- 
 proof getteth understanding." 
 
 "Despising tlie soul" is acting as if it were a matter of 
 no concern that the soul should be saved ; or as if there 
 were no reality in its alleged danger. that none of you 
 may come to discover the danger, or be brought to the con- 
 viction of the preciousness of the soul's life, only when it is 
 too late to escape the one, or to obtain the other ! God grant 
 that you may "hear reproof" in time, attending to and 
 obeying Hi a faithful admonitions as to your sinfulness and 
 guilt, and the only way of deliverance and peace and thus 
 "get understanding," securing the knowledge which alone is 
 " life eternal." 
 
 The same general lesson is followed out in the closing 
 words of the chapter " The fear of the Lord is the instruc- 
 tion of wisdom ; and before honour is humility." 
 
 Here is again the grand lesson of practical wisdom taught 
 throughout the inspired volume " Let us hear the conclu- 
 sion of the whole matter : Fear God, and keep his command- 
 ments: for this is the whole duty of man." Tlie fear of 
 the Lord is the sum of Wisdom's lessons. There is not a 
 lesson superior to this in importance to man, among all the 
 infinite stores of divine knowledge. There cannot be. 
 Among all the objects of that knowledge HE HIMSELF is in- 
 linitely the first and highest. 
 
 The former part of the verse sustains an important connex- 
 ion with the latter : " And before Jionour is humility." The 
 humility is here connected with "the fear of the Lord," 
 which, when genuine, is utterly incompatible with pride. The 
 two sentiments cannot exist in the same bosom. They are 
 mutually destructive of each other. There is nothing in any 
 human bosom which God can regard as true humility, till 
 the sinner comes down to his true condition that is, till, in 
 the spirit of entire self-renunciation, giving up, as dishonour-
 
 PROVERBS XV. 2133. C3 
 
 ing to God, all his previous confidences, he comes before the 
 footstool of the divine throne as a suppliant for uncondi- 
 tional mercy. That sinner assuredly does the very reverse 
 of honouring God, who stands out against the overtures of 
 his mercy through a Mediator. Nothing can be more di$- 
 honouring. It is dishonouring to the Avisdom of God, by 
 imputing to him the adoption of a needless device. It is 
 dishonouring to the law of God, as denying the justice of its 
 sentence. It is dishonouring to God's righteousness, as set- 
 ting aside the necessity of its claims being fully recognized 
 and maintained. It is dishonouring to God's mercy, as it 
 restricts its freeness, and declines being a debtor to it but 
 on certain conditions of its own. It is dishonouring to 
 God, as being dishonouring to his Son, by presuming to divide 
 the glory of salvation with Him, or even to take the credit 
 to itself alone. Humility is the way to " honour." The path 
 to the glory of the celestial city must be through the valley 
 of humiliation. The very first sentence the Saviour uttered, 
 when describing the character of the subjects of his reign, 
 was "Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the king- 
 dom of heaven." 
 
 Thus have we again had before us, under different as- 
 pects, the contrast between the wise and the foolish, the 
 righteous and the wicked. Alas ! how many there are, who 
 are prudent for time, but who take no thought themselves, 
 and no counsel from others, for eternity! let such be 
 again reminded, that what is their joy now, will, in the end, be 
 sorrow and bitterness. Death will silence your boastings, and 
 judgment will expose and condemn them. Even now (you 
 know in your inmost souls that I speak the truth) your plea- 
 sure in sin is subject to many misgivings of heart you, 
 especially, who have had the instructions and example of the 
 godly. It has secret stings you do not own. The feast, 
 and the dance, and the theatre, and all the higher or lower 
 revelry of life, leaving an aching void which nothing on 
 earth can fill, you will sigh in vain after substantial hap- 
 piness, just as Solomon did in what he emphatically calls 
 "the days of his vanity" until, Like him, you return to
 
 r,4 LECTURE XL. 
 
 God. Nothing whatsoever to which yon can have re- 
 course for happiness without God, can ever yield it. That 
 is the law of His rational creation; and vain will be all 
 your attempts so set it aside. HE has fixed it. It is His 
 absolute and irreversible decree that no intelligent creature 
 shall enjoy true happiness independently of Himself. And 
 is it not right it should be so ? Is it not right, that, when 
 GOD offers himself to you, in the fulness of his love, and of 
 his power to bless you, as " the portion of your inheritance 
 and cup," and you refuse the offer your punishment should 
 be the fearfully and eternally felt experience that every other 
 is vain? that every other sweet should turn to bitterness 
 and all other fulness to emptiness? that forsaking Him who 
 is the only " fountain of living water," and hewing out for 
 yourselves other cisterns, you should be condemned to find them 
 all, in the end, "broken cisterns that can hold no water?" 
 that, even if they should hold it during life, and you 
 should drink to satiety, and say, " Stolen waters are sweet," 
 you should at last see them shattered to pieces by the hand 
 of Death, and your souls left empty empty for ever the 
 fountain from which you might have found true, and pure, 
 and permanent joy being then eternally sealed. come 
 come now to that fountain, while it remains open. Come to 
 God. Make HIM your chief joy. And when you have 
 given Him his proper place, all other things will yield their 
 sweetness to you, according to their nature and their mea- 
 sure. Your happiness will then be and there is no other 
 
 "GrOD IN ALL THINGS, AND ALL THINGS IN GOD!"
 
 LECTUKE XL1. 
 
 PROV. xvi. 1 5. 
 
 " The preparations of the heart in man, and the answer of the tongue, is from 
 the Lord. All the ways of a man are clean in his own eyes; but the Lord 
 weigheth the spirits. Commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy thoughts shall 
 be established. The Lord hath made all things for himself: yea, even the 
 wicked for the day of evil. Every one that is proud in heart is an abomination 
 to the Lord: though hand join in hand, he shall not be unpunished." 
 
 THE sentiment expressed in the first of these verses, accord- 
 ing to the received translation, is this : That it belongs to 
 God, to furnish the heart with all wisdom and grace, by 
 which it is prepared to dictate to the tongue the utterance of 
 whatever is truly good and profitable. 
 
 Critics are agreed that the terms in the original will hardly 
 bear this sense. The words are, literally, "To man the 
 orderings of the heart ; but from Jehovah the answer of the 
 tongue." They have accordingly been rendered by one* 
 " Man indeed forms his designs ; but from Jehovah is the an- 
 swer of the tongue:" and by anothert " Man may prepare 
 his thoughts ; but the utterance of the tongue is from the 
 Lord." 
 
 The meaning appears to be, that whatever thoughts and 
 purposes are in a man's mind, whatever sentiments it may 
 be his intention to utter; if they are such as are likely to 
 have any influence, or to produce effects of any consequence, 
 
 * Schulzius " Homo quidem capit consilia, sed a Deo responsio 
 linguae." 
 f Hodgson. 
 II. K
 
 60 LECTURE XLI. 
 
 they are all under supreme control We have an exem- 
 plification of the fact in the case of Balaam. The prepara- 
 tion of his mind and heart was his oicn. He left his coun- 
 try on the invitation of Balak, with a certain purpose ; de- 
 signing to utter what was in harmony with his " love of tin- 
 wages of unrighteousness." But " the Lord God turned the 
 curse into a blessing." He made the infatuated false pro- 
 phet, to feel his dependence; so that, bent as his heart was 
 t<> utter one thing, his tongtie was constrained to utter an- 
 til' /:* Thus it often is in ways for which the speakers and 
 agents themselves cannot at the time account. One of these 
 ways is, that, by imperative, unanticipated circumstances, men 
 are brought to say the very contrary of what they intended. 
 They have previously made up their minds. But either 
 their memory fails them, in a manner they are at a loss to 
 understand, and that which they had with pains prepared 
 forsakes them in the time of need ; or something different 
 occurs suddenly to the mind, just at the necessary juncture, 
 whirh all their previous study had not suggested; or some 
 incident something it may be said or done by another, 
 changes, in a moment, the current of their thoughts and the 
 tenor of their words. 
 
 I have heard well-authenticated cases from ministers who 
 were as far as possible from being canters or enthusiasts, of 
 what they had prepared with much study unaccountably 
 losing its hold of their minds, and another subject, they could 
 not tell by what association, for they were sensible of none, 
 so forcing itself upon their thoughts as to constrain them to 
 speak upon it; when subsequent results, in benefit to in- 
 dividuals who, in peculiar states of mind, were at the time 
 among the number of their auditors, have shown the pro- 
 vidential cause, and have rendered the occurrence a practical 
 exemplification of the sentiment in the verse before us. In 
 every case, there is complete divine control. A man may 
 revolve in his mind or heart thoughts without number, but 
 
 The expression of this in the history is very uoiiited and Strom'. 
 Bee Nun., xxii. 18, 38; xxiii. 26; xxiv. J2, 13
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 15. 67 
 
 he cannot so much as lisp or whisper one of them without 
 : " the answer of t lie tony HZ is from the Lord." 
 
 Verse 2. "All the ways of a man are clean in his own 
 eyes : but the Lord weigheth the spirits." 
 
 The general truth stated in the former part of this 
 has its source in another the depravity of our nature. 
 That depravity has an effect upon the conscience, perverting 
 its dictates. We have this exemplified in the whole history 
 of persecution. Our Lord, in warning his disciples of what 
 they might anticipate, says, " They shall put you out of the 
 synagogues : yea, the time cometh, that whosoever killeth 
 you will think that he doeth God service."* But did this 
 false conviction absolve the actors from guilt? Far from 
 it. The reason assigned in the very next verse shows this : 
 " These things shall they do unto you, because they have 
 not known the Father nor me."t The ignorance was thus 
 without excuse, from which the conduct originated : could the 
 conduct itself, then, be innocent? Look at a particular case 
 that of Saul of Tarsus. His own words accord with the 
 words of Christ, respecting the dictates of conscience "I 
 verily thought with myself, that I ought to da many things 
 contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth," Acts xxvi. 9. 
 Did Paul mean to acquit himself of criminality when he said 
 this ( His whole manner of speaking of himself afterwards 
 strikingly shows the contrary. Let one passage decid^ : "I 
 thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who hath enabled me, for 
 that he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry : 
 who was before a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and inju- 
 rious : but I obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly in 
 unbelief And the grace of our Lord was exceeding abun- 
 dant with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus,'' 1 Tim. L 
 12 14. He here represents himself as having been "the 
 chief of sinners" in the course he had before pursued; and 
 the grace that had saved him as specially wonderful He cannot 
 mean, therefore, his having acted " ignorantly in unbelief 
 
 * gee John xvi 1. 2. 
 f Compare this verse with John xv. 21 25.
 
 LECTURE XLI. 
 
 as an apology or palliation ; seeing, otherwise than in unbe- 
 lief he could not act, and seeing unbelief is ever represented 
 ;i.s itself involving the most heinous guilt, on account of the 
 principles of moral pravity to which it is invariably imputed. 
 The probability is that the words " for I acted ignorantly in 
 unbelief" are introduced parenthetically, rather as account- 
 ing for his conduct than apologizing for it. 
 
 Again : how very often does self-partiality prevent us from 
 seeing the turpitude of particular actions or courses, which 
 even to fellow-men to neutral observers and judges is fla- 
 grantly apparent! And further, whence comes it that men 
 see themselves so very differently from the description given 
 of them in the word of God? How come they to appear 
 so right in their own eyes, when that word declares them 
 "all gone astray" "desperately wicked" " hopeless "- 
 "lost?" Comes it not from their applying to themselves 
 and to their ways false standards of estimate false weights 
 and measures: not the all-perfect, spiritual, heart-searching 
 law of the Holy God, the God of light and love but the 
 current opinions of the world, the theories of human philo- 
 sophy, the general average of character around them, the 
 laws and usages of human governments, or the second table 
 of God's law (and that very erroneously understood) to the 
 exclusion of the first? Or comes it not from their looking 
 to words and actions, without due regard to the principles 
 and motives by which they are influenced and dictated? 
 
 This last deception may be considered as specially meant 
 here, from the antithesis in the verse "But the Lord weigheth 
 the spirits." His " weighing" signifies his perfectly ascer- 
 taining, by intuitive and unerring discernment, and exposing, 
 to universal satisfaction, the good and the evil, with the precise 
 relative proportions of each. His "weighing the spirits" 
 implies that here the moral good or the moral evil really lies. 
 The mere action is, in itself, incapable of either, indepen- 
 dently of what it indicates in the agent. When we speak of 
 a moral action, we mean the action of a moral agent. A 
 dog or a man may do the same action, may carry off, for 
 instance, for their own use respectively, what is the property
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 15. 69 
 
 o another. We never think of calling it a moral action in 
 the dog; but we condemn the man for the commission of 
 a crime against his neighbour, and a sin against his God. 
 An action may even in its effects be beneficial, which, in 
 regard to the doer of it, is inexcusably bad: it may be 
 good in its results, but bad in its principle. It is the latter 
 alone that constitutes its moral or immoral character. And 
 oh ! it is well for us to be constantly impressed with the 
 solemn truth before us that " the Lord weigheth the spi- 
 rits" It gives us a lesson in the duty of self-examination. 
 We should weigh our own spirits. In the remembrance that 
 our hearts are " deceitful above all things," we should, in 
 that duty, go carefully and faithfully to work; not satisfied 
 with a mere surface-look; not regarding the word and the 
 action merely, but jealously tracing each, as in the sight of 
 God, to its secret source within ; testing that source by 
 the application of Bible criterions; desiring to detect not 
 merely motives that are unmixedly evil, but every secret 
 adulteration of motives that are in the main good every 
 alloy every deteriorating ingredient; "keeping our heaits 
 with all diligence;" and looking forward to that day, when 
 the equal balances of heaven shall try both in deed, and in 
 principle and motive " every man's work of what sort it is." 
 That will be the great day of the "weighing of the spirits." 
 What a day of strange revelations ! when all hearts shall be 
 laid open as they are in " the eyes of Him with whom we have 
 to do ! " How much that here appears genuine shall then be 
 found "reprobate silver!" How much that by its superfi- 
 cial appearance deceived the eyes of men, shall be shown to 
 have been but the gilding and lackering of corruption! 
 How much that passed for virtue, but the counterfeit of 
 vice! How much that seemed sterling, when "weighed in 
 the balances" shall be " found wanting !" How many masks of 
 imposing comeliness shall be torn from concealed deformity ! 
 Of how many "whited sepulchres" shall the "dead men's 
 bones and all uncleanness" be thrown out to view! Let us 
 anticipate that day of coming disclosure, when the Lord the 
 Judge shall "bring to light the hidden things of darkness,
 
 70 LECTURE XLI. 
 
 and make manifest the counsels of the hearts;" and let us 
 faithfully "judge ourselves" that "we may not be judged." 
 
 And for the same reason which should make us faithful 
 and severe in judging ourselves, we should feel it incumbent 
 upon us to be charitable and cautious in our judgments of 
 others. We cannot " weigh the spirits." Of actions and of 
 words, in their nature and in their tendency, we are entitled 
 to form our opinion, according to the principles and precepts 
 of God's law. But there is often a great deal more freedom 
 used, than there ought to be, with the motives and inten- 
 jinnii of those by whom the actions are done and the words 
 are spoken. We are apt to talk with as much confidence of 
 the motives of others as if we had the divine prerogative of 
 "searching the heart." Frequently, for instance, we con- 
 clude at once, from the actual result of what another has 
 done, that such result was in his intention, that the pro- 
 duction of it was even the chief or only motive by which he 
 was influenced. Whereas He who " weigheth the spirits" 
 may know that the motive has been the very reverse; and 
 that the actual result has arisen from an error in judgment, 
 and may be grieving the well-intentioned agent even more 
 than it does ourselves. Let us then while we search our own 
 hearts to the very bottom, beware of usurping the divine 
 right of pronouncing on the secrets of other hearts. To 
 this, as to every thing else, the great law of Christian equity 
 and charity clearly and fully applies " Whatsoever ye would 
 that men should do to you, do ye even so to them." 
 
 Verse 3. "Commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy 
 thoughts shall be established." The counsel here given im- 
 plies the following things : 
 
 1. That all our purposes and all our doings should be ac- 
 cording to Gods will. How is it possible for us to commit 
 them to God otherwise? How can we look to God for a 
 blessing on that which we know to be contrary to His mind, 
 and displeasing in His sight] We ought not to form or to 
 pursue any purpose, regarding which we are sensible that we 
 cannot, without a consciousness of inconsistency and impiety, 
 acknowledge GOD. We ought not, unless we can even do so '
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 15. 71 
 
 with confidence. The maxini by which, as Christians, we 
 should be regulated, is to be found in the words "Whatso- 
 ever is not of faith" whatsoever does not proceed, that is, 
 from a full conviction of right " is sin." 
 
 2. That none of our works can prosper without God. His 
 providential blessing and superintendence are indispensable 
 to success in any one of them. When His own counsels re- 
 quire it, God can bring to nothing the best, and crown with 
 success the worst devised of human plans. This is a lesson 
 of which the divine word is full.* 
 
 3. That it is, therefore, the obvious and imperative duty 
 of intelligent creatures to own their dependence, and to seek, 
 on all occasions, the divine countenance and blessing: a 
 counsel we have had more than once before us : one which 
 pervades the Bible; and to which, despite of all the specious- 
 ness which a sophistical infidelity may give to its theories 
 and speculations, natural conscience gives its sanction har 
 monizing with the dictates of unsophisticated reason. 
 
 4. That what is our duty is, at the same time, our interest. 
 The act of committing all things into the hands of God to 
 be regulated as He may see fit, preserves the spirit from cor- 
 roding anxiety; from carefulness, and sleeplessness, and tor- 
 turing apprehensions about the result. It " keeps the soul in 
 peace." t 
 
 5. As before, a general truth is expressed, namely, that 
 God will graciously smile on the efforts, and accomplish the 
 purposes and wishes of him who, in all that he does, 
 piously and humbly acknowledges Him, and seeks His 
 blessing. God will " establish his thoughts" will second and 
 prosper, and fulfil the purposes he forms, and the desires he 
 cherishes, crowning his endeavours with success. 
 
 Verse 4. " The Lord hath made all things for himself : 
 yea, even the wicked for -the day of evil" This verse has 
 occasioned no small difficulty to interpreters; and without 
 doubt it -is difficult. 
 
 * ^ee Psal. cxxvii. 1; Dan. v. 23; Jam iv. 1316. 
 t Psal. cxxvii. 2; Isa. xxvi. 3. 4; Phil. iv. 6, 7.
 
 72 LECTURE XLL 
 
 The former part of it, indeed, regarded as a general 
 truth, is involved in no perplexity. The perplexity lies in 
 the latter. We can be at no loss to admit the proposition, 
 that both in creation and in providence, all things must ulti- 
 mately prove for the glory of the Maker and Kuler of the 
 universe. And this, in reality, appears to be the great truth 
 conveyed; a truth which it would be as unreasonable to 
 question, as it would be impious. There is, there can be 
 nothing which God makes, and nothing which God either 
 does, or permits to be done, which will not ultimately, in one 
 way or another, be rendered instrumental to the furtherance of 
 His glory. It is a truth, that all God's works praise him ; and 
 in the end, all God's ways shall praise him. He will bring a 
 revenue of honour and adoration to himself from the whole, 
 and from every part. The words have been rendered, " God 
 hath made every thing for his purpose or for its purpose." 
 If we render them " for his purpose," the sense will be much 
 the same as in our own translation. If we render them " for 
 its purpose," the sense will be, (a very manifest truth) that 
 every thing in nature is designed and adapted for some spe- 
 cial purpose to its appropriate end. And then there will 
 be intended a comparison: that as God hath made every- 
 thing for its purpose, so also has He made even " the wicked 
 for the day of evil" Still here lies the difficulty the per- 
 plexing knot. "What is the sense, in which the Lord, who has 
 " made everything for Himself," is said to have made the wicked 
 for the day of evil ? There are two things which it cannot 
 mean. The first is, that God ever made a wicked creature; 
 that any rational creature ever came from His forming hand, 
 imbued with the principles of eviL That God has made crea- 
 tures who have subsequently fallen and become wicked, is a 
 matter of fact. But God never either made a wicked crea- 
 ture, or made a creature wicked; never created a mind in a 
 state of depravity ; and never into a mind that was created 
 pure, infused the principles of depravity. These things as 
 they are far from God, be far from all our conceptions of 
 Hun ! The second is, that God ever made an intelligent crea- 
 ture for the purpose of rendering that creature miserable ;
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 15. 73 
 
 or, to use the common phrase, that God ever made any man, 
 to damn him ! The first end of God in creation is his own 
 glory. It must be so, unless we can conceive anything to 
 which that glory should give way as being of inferior conse- 
 quence : and the second is the gratification of his benevo- 
 lence in the production of happiness. Why this benevolent 
 God has permitted evil to enter into his creation, is an in- 
 quiry too high for us. The fact is certain ; and we cannot 
 hesitate in believing, that in the long-run, God will make 
 this part of his providential scheme to produce the largest 
 amount of both glory to his name and benefit to the uni- 
 versal frame of being. But that God's end, in bringing any 
 intelligent creature into existence, was that creature's misery, 
 it is blasphemy, and to every mind that desires to cherish 
 veneration and love towards the divine Being it is agony 
 to imagine. 
 
 Setting such ideas aside, I would remark, that much of 
 the meaning of the whole clause depends on the sense we 
 affix to " the day of evil" 
 
 1. It is generally understood, and I have myself been 
 accustomed so to explain it, of the day of final visitation and 
 suffering to the wicked themselves. Supposing this to be the 
 meaning, the sentiment expressed will be, that Jehovah, hav- 
 ing made and destined all tilings for Himself, will cause 
 even wicked men, who for the time may seem to be excep- 
 tions to that truth, and to be counteracting the purpose of 
 promoting his glory, to subserve that end at last, in " the day 
 of evil" by their righteous punishment- 'their final over- 
 throw and destruction : and that there is the same fitness in 
 His thus " reserving the unjust unto the day of judgment to 
 be punished," as there is in any adaptation in nature or in 
 providence. The words, in this view of them, have been 
 finely rendered by Archbishop Tillotson " God hath or- 
 dained everything to that which is fit to it; and the wicked 
 He hath ordained for the day of evil : that is, the wisdom 
 of God hath fitted one thing to another, punishment to sin, 
 the evil day to the evil-doer." And thus, we may add, God 
 AVill provide for the honour of his name and government
 
 74 LECTURE XL I. 
 
 "What," says Paul, "if God, willing to shew wrath, ana 
 to make his power known, endured with much long-suffering 
 the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction : and that he might 
 make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, 
 which he had afore prepared unto glory?" Rom. ix. 22, 23. 
 Those, observe, who are "fitted to destruction" are not said 
 to be so fitted by God, as it is said of the " vessels of mercy ^' 
 that " he before prepared them to glory." No. The ungodly 
 fit themselves for destruction ; and God forbears the imme- 
 diate infliction of their punishment, allowing them to take 
 their course, and to work out their principles of evil, with 
 mad infatuation, to the uttermost, that in that punishment 
 when it w inflicted, He may the more surely and effectually 
 make His righteousness apparent. 
 
 2. But I am now inclined to doubt whether " the day of 
 evil" has here this meaning at all. There is another, of which 
 it is alike susceptible, and which, in the Scriptures, it fre- 
 quently bears namely, the day of punitive visitation, in the 
 infliction of judicial vengeance, in the course of God's providen- 
 tial administration. I question if the suffering of the wicked 
 be intended, and am disposed to refer the phrase to the in- 
 strumental agency of the wicked. The expression, " The 
 LORD hath made all things for himself," will thus mean, that 
 He employs all as instruments in effecting his pur- 
 poses; and that thus He makes the wicked as a part of his 
 agency ; employing them, without at all interfering with their 
 freedom and their responsibility, as the executioners of 
 wrath, " when He cometh out of his place to punish the in- 
 habitants of the earth for their iniquity ; " 'tlius rendering 
 their very passions the means of accomplishing his designs ; 
 making " the wrath of man to praise him, and restraining 
 the remainder of wrath." 
 
 Verse 5. " Every one that is proud in heart is an abomi- 
 nation to the Lord : though hand join in hand, he shall not 
 be unpunished." It is of vast importance that we bear in 
 mind what is the " pride of heart that is abomination to the 
 Lord." 
 
 1. There is a gentleness and condescending affability, that
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 15. 75 
 
 springs from mere natural disposition; and which may exist 
 while pride, in the sight of God, is cherished and indulged 
 in all its ungodly loftiness. While possessing such a dispo- 
 sition in the highest degree, a man may hate with his whole 
 heart the humbling representations of the gospel, and the 
 unconditional grace which it reveals. He may disdain the 
 lowly, self-abasing language of the "broken and contrite 
 heart," as language not at all befitting his lips. He may as 
 sume the portly self-justifying attitude of the Pharisee, and 
 cast the side-long look of scorn at the penitent publican. 
 But a man of this stamp, whatever his fellow-men may 
 think of him, is of "the proud in heart whom the Lord 
 abhorretli." 
 
 2. There are some, again, who are full of the language of 
 the deepest self-condemnation : no terms are strong enough 
 to express their sense of their own vileness and unworthi- 
 ness. Yet they are of " the proud in heart," after all They 
 are lowly in words but high in spirit. Pride dictates their 
 very humiliation. They wish to be commended for their 
 lowliness, and to be assured that they think worse of them- 
 selves than others do ; that they are by no means the worth- 
 less wretches they make themselves; that they possess ex- 
 cellencies to which their humility makes them blind. Then, 
 again, when thus nattered, they shake their heads and pro- 
 test against it in terms of still stronger self-loathing; while 
 all the time they are pleased with it, and only wish to draw 
 out a little more of what falls so sweetly upon the ear of 
 their vanity, and feasts their imvard self-elation. They 
 want a character for humility, while yet they are the very 
 opposite of humble. They will show this at once, if you 
 only agree with the ill they say of themselves; and come to 
 close quarters with them as to actual bond fide faults. And 
 not a few, moreover, who are all lowliness before God, are 
 high and irritable, touchy and resentful in their intercourse 
 with men. 
 
 I must then afresh urge on you the truth, that the first 
 ingredient in true humility before God, is a heart-breaking 
 conviction of sin, and exposure to wrath, with the deep
 
 76 LECTURE XLI. 
 
 feeling and the lowly confession of entire dependence on God's 
 mercy, and of owing all to the riches of His grace. Every 
 other feature and modification of Christian humility must ger- 
 minate from this. And from such a truly humble state of heart 
 many are the descriptions of pride that keep sinners of man- 
 kind : the pride of self-righteousness ; the pride of wisdom ; 
 the pride of station ; and what appears to be especially alluded 
 to in the verse the pride of rebellion obstinate daring 
 rebellion, in which men combine and encourage one another : 
 " Though hand join in hand, he shall not be unpunished." 
 The proud of all sorts may encourage one another in such 
 rebellion in holding out against all terms of submission 
 not in accordance with what they affect to think due to 
 themselves! the mad presumption ! Due to themselves! 
 What is it that is due to them? Is it not just what is due 
 to all, as having "sinned, and come short of the glory of 
 God?" Yes ; and where shall their pride be, in he day when 
 God riseth up? There shall be a vast assembly on the left 
 hand of the Judge. Will they then unite against him? 
 Will they then join hand in hand to resist the execution of 
 His sentence? the felt impotence the trembling help- 
 lessness of that multitude ! Every heart shall quail before 
 those eyes that, " as a flame of fire," shall search their inmost 
 souls; before the purity and the power of Him whose 
 mercy they have despised till it was too late to find it ; the 
 purity and the power of Him whom they refused as their 
 Saviour, but who, having exchanged the cross for the throne, 
 shall then, as Judge, vindicate, in the destruction of his 
 enemies, the righteousness of the divine government, and the 
 insulted honour of the divine name. 
 
 " be no longer mockers, lest your bands be made strong." 
 "Humble yourselves." Come to God as sinners, and as 
 suppliants for mercy. He will " in no wise cast you out." 
 Come in pride you perish. Come in your own name you 
 perish. But come with a broken and contrite, heart, in "the 
 name of Jesus, and as sure as He is the true God and the 
 God of truth, he will stretch forth his arms to welcome you !
 
 LECTURE XLII. 
 
 PKDV. xvi. 6 15. 
 
 " By mercy and truth iniquity is purged; and by the fear of the Lord men 
 depart from evil. When a man's ways please the Lord, he maketh even his 
 enemies to be at peace with him. Better is a little with righteousness than 
 great revenues without right. A man's heart deviseth his way : but the Lord 
 directeth his steps. A divine sentence is in the lips of the king; his mouth 
 transgresseth not in judgment. A just weight and balance are the Lord's; all 
 the weights of the bag are his work. It is an abomination to kings to commit 
 wickedness: for the throne is established by righteousness. Righteous lips are 
 the delight of kings; and they love him that speaketh right. The wrath of the 
 king is as messengers of death; but a wise man will pacify it. In the light of 
 the king's countenance is life; and his favour is as the cloud of the latter rain." 
 
 Two things are necessary to be noticed in regard to the lan- 
 guage of the first of these verses, in order to our arriving at 
 the true interpretation of it, and the principle of harmony 
 between it and other parts of Scripture : 
 
 1. The word here translated "purged" is the same with 
 that so rendered in other places, and is the word which 
 strictly and properly signifies expiation or atonement : and 
 
 2. Mercy and truth, being here put generally, may mean 
 mercy and truth either as exercised on the part of God or as 
 practised by men. 
 
 Xow, as we have already said, there is not a sentiment 
 more directly in the face of the entire tenor of the word of God, 
 than the sentiment, that the practice of " mercy and truth," 
 MII the part of men, can operate as an atonement or expiation 
 for the guilt of their sins. It is a very favourite sentiment ; 
 but one which no man can hold, and, with any consistency,
 
 78 LECTURE XLII. 
 
 profess to believe the Bible. I do not deny, that the aban- 
 donment of unrighteousness and oppression, and the adop- 
 tion of the principles and the practice of truth, justice, 
 and mercy, may be a means of averting temporal cala- 
 mities suspending the execution of them for a time, or 
 even removing them altogether; as when Daniel said to 
 king Nebuchadnezzar, "Wherefore, king, let my counsel 
 be acceptable unto thee, and break off thy sins by righteous- 
 ness, and thy iniquities by shewing mercy to the poor; if it 
 may be a lengthening of thy tranquillity," Dan. iv. 27. 
 And were it not for the use of the proper word for expiation, 
 and the general unqualified form in which the statement in 
 this verse is made, such an interpretation might have been 
 admissible. We might have restricted the application of 
 the words to the manner in which the God of mercy and 
 truth the God who himself " delighteth in mercy," and who 
 "requireth truth in the inward parts" manifests his rt-- 
 gard to the practice of these virtues by his creatures. There 
 is a scriptural sense too, in which mercy and truth, and the 
 kindred graces, impart confidence towards God : but it is 
 only as evidential of interest in the salvation by grace which 
 the divine word reveals ; it is neither as meritorious, nor as 
 fj'iiiutory. It is obviously in this way that we are to inter- 
 pret the language of James, " He shall have judgment with- 
 out mercy, that hath shewed no mercy ; and mercy rejoiceth 
 against judgment," Jam. ii 13. The best commentary on 
 "mercy rejoicing against judgment" that is, imparting 
 peace, security, and joy to the soul before God the Judge 
 is the Saviour's own description of the solemn transactions 
 of the judgment-day.* The works of mercy He describes, 
 as done to "his brethren "for hi$ sake, were done from love 
 to hi m, and consequently bom faith in him. They are thus 
 graciously stamped with his approval, and, as evidence of 
 those who did them being his, are interposed between them 
 and condemnation. But in this there is nothing of expia- 
 tion or atonement. 
 
 * Mat. xxv. 3436, 40.
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 615. 79 
 
 The purging away, or expiation of sin, is invariably, in the 
 Scriptures, put upon a different ground. There is but ONE 
 EXPIATION typified by all the ancient sacrifices, and offered 
 up, in the fulness of time, on Calvary. To suppose the faith- 
 fulness and kindness of one man to another to expiate 
 guilt, is to set aside the entire scheme of the divine Saviour's 
 mediation. 
 
 I regard "mercy and truth" here as having reference 
 to God, to the exercise and manifestation of these perfec- 
 tions of his character, in the scheme of human redemption. 
 This view is strongly supported by such passages as these. 
 " Mercy and truth are met together ; righteousness and peace 
 have kissed each other." " Who is a God like unto thee, 
 that pardoneth iniquity, and passeth by the transgression of 
 the remnant of his heritage ? he retaineth not his anger for- 
 ever, because he delighteth in mercy. He will turn again, 
 he will have compassion upon us; he will subdue our ini- 
 quities ; and thou wilt cast all their sins .into the depths of 
 the sea. Thou wilt perform, the truth to Jacob, and the 
 mercy to Abraham, which thou hast sworn unto our fathers 
 from the days of old." " The law was given by Moses, but 
 grace and truth came by Jesus Christ."* 
 
 I cannot but consider the entire verse, when the two parts of 
 it are taken together, as briefly expressing what God has done 
 for the salvation of man for expiating his guilt and restor- 
 ing him to favour; and the character, in principle and prac- 
 tice, which arises out of an interest by faith in this atone- 
 ment and salvation. By "mercy and truth," on the part of 
 God, men's sins are expiated and forgiven; and, in conse- 
 quence, "by the fear of the Lord," springing from the faith 
 that introduces to this forgiveness, " men depart from eA r iL" 
 Thus, in the language of the Psalmist "There is forgive- 
 ness with God, that he may be feared" And when by the 
 faith of the atonement sinners are brought to the fear of 
 God, they "walk in newness of life." 
 
 Then we have, in the next adage, one of the many happy 
 
 * Ps;il. Ixxxv. 10: Mic. vii. 1820: John i. 17.
 
 SO LECTURE XLII. 
 
 effects which result to those who so walk : " When a man's 
 ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to be at 
 peace with him."* 
 
 Not that a good man shall never have any enemies. The 
 contrary, alas! we see and know; and the contrary the word 
 of God, both by the views it gives us of human nature, 
 and by many express declarations, teaches us to expect. 
 Indeed, the very verse itself implies the contrary. Enemies 
 are expressly supposed to exist. And it is of these enemies 
 that it is here said, God "maketh them to be at peace 
 with him." The meaning evidently is, that often -when the 
 fears of God's people are excited in regard to those enemies, 
 when they are trembling for the consequences of their 
 hostility, thinking all over with them the wrath is 
 averted the enemy's power broken, or his feelings changed, 
 and rendered, for the time at least, friendly. Thus it was 
 in the case of Jacob with Esau; and, in different instances 
 in that of Saul with David. And thus it was in the case 
 of another Saul, in New Testament days, who, from " breath- 
 ing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of 
 the Lord," and "being exceedingly mad against them," be- 
 came one of the warmest, and most devoted friends 
 of Christ and his cause. God gave promise by Jeremiah 
 to his ancient people "Verily I will cause the enemy 
 to entreat thee well in the time of evil and in the time of 
 affliction," Jer. xv. 11. The divine Saviour also makes a 
 similar promise, by the Apostle John, to one of his churches, 
 and thus, in like circumstances, to them alLt It has been 
 briefly and tersely said " The best way to have enemies re- 
 umcOed to us, is for us to be reconciled to God." When we 
 <>rt thus reconciled, even when enemies are permitted to 
 rise up against us, and " such as breathe out cruelty," yet may 
 we say with confidence, "If God be for us, who can be 
 against us]" and to our brethren so situated, "Who is he 
 that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good?" 
 
 There may be in the language more especial reference to 
 
 . Job v 23. f R ev . iii. 0.
 
 PEOVERBS XVI. 615. 81 
 
 those parts of the good man's conduct which have raised up 
 enemies against him, springing from his resolute adherence 
 to what God commands and conscience approves, in spite of 
 all remonstrance, threatening, persuasion, and even tears; 
 and in the full knowledge of the painful result, that those 
 whom he would fain number still amongst his friends must 
 be rendered hostile, and assume the attitude of alienation 
 and resentment. When a child of God acts thus decidedly, 
 and makes himself enemies from " conscience toward God," 
 by following out the principle " We must obey God rather 
 than men;" that God whom he obeys, and for whom he 
 suffers, will stand by him. He will disappoint his fears, 
 (how often has He done it !) and make the very admiration 
 of his firm yet mild and dignified consistency to work, 
 through conscience, on the hearts of his foes, and convert 
 them, into his friends sometimes his warmest and most valu- 
 able friends : and not only into his friends, but through hi.s 
 instrumentality, and through the very consistency which at 
 first provoked them, into friends of God. All this has not. 
 unfrequently happened in regard to the godly man's un- 
 godly relatives. An instance of it occurred in my reading 
 the other day. The Rev. Edwin Sidney, in his Memoir 
 of the Rev. Rowland Hill, gives the following incident. 
 " At the close of his life, he was walking on the terrace at 
 Hawkstone" (the residence of one of his brothers) "when he 
 remarked to a lady who was with him, and who had wit 
 nessed the affectionate attentions which were paid him by 
 Sir John Hill and his family, ' You have seen how I am. 
 now received here ; but in my youth I have often paced 
 this spot, bitterly weeping, while by most of the inhabitants 
 of yonder house I was considered as a disgrace to my family. 
 But,' he added, whilst the tears ran down. his cheeks 'it 
 was for the cause of God,' " And this instance is only one 
 of thousands. Even in cases where affection has not been 
 won, the Lord has many a time, by providential incidents 
 and by -secret influences, direct or indirect, upon the mind, 
 kept His servants in peace, preventing the wrath from 
 breaking out laying an unseen and unaccountable restraint 
 IT. F
 
 82 LECTURE XLII. 
 
 upon it, and giving peace even in the midst of cherished 
 an- 1 strong enmity. Daniel has been in peace, in the lions' 
 den. God has " shut the lions' mouths, that they have not 
 hurt him." When He has sent forth his sen-ants on his 
 embassies, " as sheep among wolves," the savage passions of 
 their infuriated opponents have been restrained, and have 
 even been, by divine grace, Darned into gentleness, so that 
 the " wolf has dwelt with the lamb, and the leopard lain 
 down with the kid." 
 
 Yes, my friends; and, without going far astray from the 
 spirit of the words, I may add, that there is one enemy the 
 most dreaded of all by guilty nature whom God " makes to 
 be at peace" with "those whose ways please Him;" Death, 
 " the last enemy the king of terrors." The believer fears 
 him not. He hails him as a friend. To him the spectral 
 form of the monarch of the grave brings no alarm. He 
 comes " a messenger of peace, to call his soul to heaven." 
 
 And "when a man's ways please the Lord," it matters 
 not what may be his situation in life. " There is no re- 
 spect of persons with God." With the man who is " hum- 
 ble and of a contrite heart, and trembleth at his word," 
 He delights to " dwell," whether in the palace or in the cot- 
 tage ; and from the palace He retires, when it is the abode 
 of sin, to take up his abode in the cottage " wherein dwelleth 
 righteousness." 
 
 Thus it follows verse 8. " Better is a little with righte- 
 ousness than great revenues without right." 
 
 Taking the words in their general acceptation, without 
 entering into the shades of difference between the term used 
 i'< >r rigkteoumea, and that for right we may remark, that 
 the "little with righteousness" is better than the "great re- 
 venues without right" in many respects. 1. They who have 
 the "little with righteousness" righteousness in the acquisi- 
 tion and righteousness in the use, have it with a good con- 
 >; which they whose abundance is without right can 
 never enjoy. 2. It produces less distraction and temptation 
 to worldlineas and forgetfulness of God, the great curse of 
 wealth; and exerts less of an absorbing influence on the
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 615. 83 
 
 affections and desires. 3. It is received as a blessing from a 
 Father's hand, and is enjoyed with a blessing from a Father's 
 heart; whereas "revenues without right" can neither be re- 
 garded as divinely bestowed nor as divinely blessed. 4. 
 The "little with righteousness" meets the wants and the 
 bounded desires of its possessor. Righteous before God, and 
 cherishing towards God the spirit of confidence which He 
 requires, he has " learned, in whatsoever state he is, there- 
 with to be content" which is the great secret of true 
 enjoyment, and which all the revenues of earth without 
 the grace of God must fail to impart. 5. He who has 
 "little with righteousness," uses the little better; whereas he 
 who gets without principle cannot be expected to put much 
 principle into his spending. And for the encouragement 
 of the poorest it is written, in regard to the employment 
 of earthly means, " It is accepted according to what a 
 man hath, and not according to what he hath not." 6. He 
 who has little has 110 fears disturbing him of change for the 
 worse; and having his little with right, and as one 
 under the power of principles which God approves, the 
 principles of true religion, he has the prospect before him, 
 beyond all the privations and trials of his present poor and 
 pinching condition, of something infinitely better and more 
 lasting than all the revenues, with right or without it, that 
 this world can ever furnish to its most devoted worshippers 
 the blessed prospect of "the inheritance of the saints in 
 light;" where, having on earth "received his evil things," 
 he shall be eternally " filled with all the fulness of God ! " 
 
 Verse 9. "A man's heart," that is his mind, his inward 
 powers, of reflection, anticipation, skill, prudence, " deviseth 
 his way" a term implying the application of all possible 
 consideration, invention, and precaution but "the Lord di- 
 recteth his steps." The words express and expose the folly 
 and presumption, on man's part, of self-confidence of his thus 
 assuring himself of success, as if he had the future under his 
 eye and at his bidding ; regardless of that hidden but ever-- 
 present, ever-busy superintending Power, that has all under 
 complete command; that can at once arrest his progress in
 
 84 LECTURE XLIF. 
 
 the very midst and at the very height of his boasting, and 
 "turn to foolishness" all his devices. The sacred Ora- 
 cles are full of the sentiment and of the most striking 
 exemplifications of its truth.* And what is the sentiment 
 of revelation cannot fail to command the concurrence of en- 
 licrhtened reason. It must he so. If there is a God at all it 
 cannot he otherwise. It were the height of irrationality as 
 well as impiety for a moment to question it to imagine the 
 contrary possible. How otherwise could God govern the 
 world? Were not all human schemes under supreme and 
 irresistible control, what would become of the certainty of 
 the divine? All must of necessity fulfil the plans of Infinite 
 Wisdom in the administration of God's universal govern- 
 ment. God "will work, and who shall let it?" 
 
 Verse 10. "A divine sentence is in the lips of , the king: 
 his mouth transgr<jsseth not in judgment." 
 
 Solomon being himself a king, it is no matter of surprise 
 that he should occasionally touch on the duties of royalty. 
 His object here is to set forth what kings ought to be, and 
 what good kings always are. Such is the character of hu- 
 man government, as ordained of God a divine institute for 
 the well-being of men. 
 
 The terms of this verse might be considered as having 
 in them a truth specially applicable to the kings of Israel 
 and Judah. They reigned under a theocracy. Jehovah 
 himself had given laws to his chosen people. It was the 
 duty of the kings to have these laws before them, and to 
 , r ivt-rn in all things according to them. Anticipating the 
 exercise of the kingly authority, God had expressly given 
 command to this effect by Moses. t A sentence, therefore, 
 which was according to this law, was, in the strictest sense, 
 " a divine sentence." It was of God's express dictation. 
 But the words may be understood of kings more generally. 
 
 "A divine sentence" may be understood ' either as to its 
 cluiracter, or as to its authoritative effect. If taken in the 
 former sense, it means a sentence according to perfect 
 
 * See chap. xix. 21; xx. 24; xxi. 30. f Deut. xvii. 1820.
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 615. 85 
 
 equity in harmony with the character of Him of- whom 
 it is said " He is the Eock, his work is perfect : for all his 
 ways are judgment : a God of truth, and without iniquity ; 
 just and right is He." If in the latter sense, the idea is, 
 that as every judgment or "sentence" of God is decisive and 
 effectual, so that the execution of it cannot be evaded or re- 
 sisted, such, in measure, is the case with the sentences of 
 kings among men : and in the general idea of a divine sen 
 tence may fairly be included both character and efficiency 
 both equity and power. When understood of equity, the 
 latter part of the verse, according to the principle of Hebrew 
 parallelisms, will be a kind of counterpart or echo to the 
 former "A divine sentence is in the lips of the king; his 
 mouth transgresseth not in judgment." When understood of 
 power, the verse might be rendered " A divine sentence is 
 in the lips of the king: let not his mouth trangress in 
 judgment:" in proportion to the authoritative and effica- 
 cious nature of his sentence, ought he to see to it that the 
 sentence be right : he should weigh well his decision ere lie 
 pronounces it, seeing it involves consequences so certain, 
 immediate, and important. And the principle of this lesson 
 applies to all in situations of authority and influence, whether 
 more private or more public. As does also the lesson of 
 equity from the character of God, as a just God " the righ- 
 teous Lord who loveth righteousness." 
 
 The principle, is, in the spirit of it, repeated in next verse 
 "A just weight and balance are the Lord's.; all the 
 weights of the bag are his work." 
 
 The laAvs of Moses were adverted to in our comment on this 
 subject on a former occasion.* They are most pointed and 
 strict, and heavy the denunciations against the violators of 
 them. The Jews are said to have kept their standard 
 weights and measures in the sanctuary. The fact might arise 
 from the particularity of the law; and might operate as a 
 remembrancer of the righteousness of Him by whom the law 
 was given and the weights and measures fixed. And it fur- 
 
 * Chap. xi. 1.
 
 86 LECTURE XLII. 
 
 nishes, at the same time, an interesting commentary on the 
 words in this verse. They are " the Lords" they are " his 
 icork." All adulteration of them was a kind of sacrilege. 
 It was not cheating men merely, but defrauding Jehovah, 
 changing what He had fixed. The general idea is, that the 
 weights and measures should be held sacred, like all else that 
 belongs to God, so that encroachment upon them should 
 be considered as profanation, which God himself would 
 avenge. And, from the connexion in which the words are 
 here introduced, they lead us to observe, that while kings 
 are called upon to "do justly" themselves in their whole ad- 
 ministration, and in every department of it, it is, at the 
 same time, a most important part of their official duty to 
 promote among their subjects, to the utmost extent of their 
 power, the principles and the practice of equity between man 
 and man. The prevalence, indeed, of mutual confidence is 
 indispensable to the comfort and prosperity of society, 
 nay to the very existence of a community that, to any ex- 
 tent, depends on trade and commerce. Destroy such con- 
 fidence, and all the intercourse of business is at once anni- 
 hilated cut up by the very roots. 
 
 Verse 1 2. " It is an abomination to kings to commit wick- 
 edness : for the throne is established by righteousness." This 
 verse is susceptible of various interpretations, as 1. "For 
 klinj* to commit wickedness is abomination ; for the throne 
 is established by righteousness." This view presents a sen- 
 timent to which none can possibly refuse their assent. For 
 any man to "commit wickedness" is an abomination an 
 abomination to God and to all holy creatures, and it is pecu- 
 liarly so for those who hold stations of authority and influ- 
 ence. It is theirs to give the tone to public morals and 
 manners. This invests them with a special responsibility. 
 
 2. The verse may be read "Let it be an abomination to 
 kings to commit wickedness : for the throne is established 
 by righteousness:" that is, kings ought to hold wickedness 
 in abhorrence in their own conduct; and that, whether per- 
 sonal or official. A distinction is at times made between 
 the man and his office; or between the man personally and
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 6-15. 87 
 
 the man officially ; which, if pushed far, may be very preju- 
 dicial. It goes to this that a .man may be a very good 
 magistrate, though he is a very bad man ; that private char- 
 acter has little or no connexion with the discharge of pub- 
 lic functions. This is surely a pernicious mistake. The two 
 should, as far as possible, be in union. The best security for 
 upright and correct official conduct is uprightness of private 
 character. There never can be full confidence in a govern- 
 ment, of which the conductors, supreme and subordinate, are, 
 in their private deportment, destitute of principle. Principle 
 in the personal character will alone resist temptation to mal- 
 versation in public office. We have no certain hold of a 
 man otherwise. 
 
 3. The third view is probably the right one that "wicked- 
 ness" in general "is an abomination to kings;" that is, ought 
 to be, and in regard to every good king will be "for the 
 throne is established by righteousness." That such is the 
 true meaning is likely frem the verse that follows, which 
 presents an evident contrast to this. A virtuous, nourish- 
 ing, comfortable, and happy population will scare away from 
 the throne all apprehensions of seditious and revolutionary 
 movements. Such a people will wish for no change; and 
 against any enemy that would introduce change will defend 
 with their heart's blood the government under which they 
 enjoy such prosperity. On the contrary, the extensive pre- 
 valence of opposite principles, very often the result of mis- 
 government, will prevent prosperity, will produce poverty 
 and discomfort, will cherish discontent, will foment insubor- 
 dination, and excite wishes for change, and render the coun- 
 try a mass of combustible materials which requires but the 
 striking of a spark to ensure a universal explosion. Then 
 the throne is in incessant insecurity. It stands amongst 
 gunpowder. It is surrounded with terrors. Its occupant 
 can be in peace only from ignorance. Let it be laid down 
 as a settled maxim, that the best security of "the throne" is in 
 the virtue of its subjects ; that the diffusion of knowledge 
 and of religious and moral principle, is the best means of 
 ensuring the loyal, peaceable, happy submission of the peo-
 
 88 LECTURE XLII. 
 
 pie. Equal laws, equal rights, equal privileges, equal favour 
 to all in their respective departments of occupation, a fair 
 field for every one, and no partiality in either immunities 
 or restrictions, in trade, in science, or in religion, will do 
 much to produce this desirable condition of things. And 
 "the righteousness which exalteth the nation" will place its 
 throne on a firm basis, and surround it with the truest glory.* 
 Verse 13. "Righteous lips are the delight of kings; and 
 they love him that speaketh right." Ah ! would that this 
 could be truly predicated as matter of universal fact ! "Well 
 had it been, and well would it be, both for princes and for 
 people! But history tells another tale; and we must 
 again regard the words as the statement of what ought 
 to be, rather than of what is, of the character, not of all 
 kings, but of the truly good king. The flatteries, the wiles, 
 the falsehoods, the treacherous smiles and selfish heartlessness 
 of courtiership, have been proverbial from the beginning. It 
 has been in every age a complaint, and one alas ! too well found- 
 ed, that princes do not hear truth, that, from fear or from 
 favour, it does not reach their ears. There have been, and 
 there are, honourable exceptions ; but a courtier has long been 
 a term almost synonymous with a man versed in all the arts 
 of simulation and chicane. Of how many princes, in ancient 
 or more modern times, has this been (though, perchance, a 
 present gratification to them) the ultimate wretchedness and 
 ruin! Falsehood and flattery are often for the time more 
 palatable than faithfulness and truth. When the lying lips 
 of the parasite pour into the open ear of royalty the false 
 and delusive maxim that the people are made for the 
 prince, not the prince for the people; when they place 
 the ruler above the law, and pronounce the ruler's pleasure 
 the criterion of the ruler's duty, and his will what should 
 bind all, and be itself unbound : when a profligate minister 
 recommends measures according to what he knows to be the 
 caprice of his royal master, or his unhappily obstinate preju- 
 dices, rather than according to what he knows just and libe- 
 
 * See chap. xiv. 34-
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 615. 89 
 
 ral views of the public good to require ; the deceived prince 
 becomes the dupe of treachery; and his throne may be tot- 
 tering to its base when he is fancying it most secure. Hap- 
 py is it for the prince who feels and acts as this verse 
 describes ; who desires honest and faithful counsel ; who pre- 
 fers wwpalatable truth to palatable falsehood; who rejects 
 with dignity and scorn, the advisers whom he detects putting 
 a bandage over his eyes, and who places those proportionally 
 near to him and in the light of his favour, who assist him 
 to see clearly things as they actually are, and suggest, with 
 the fidelity of conscientious conviction, the measures that 
 will make things as they ought to be ! The best commen- 
 tary on the verse before us, as descriptive of the character 
 of a good king, may be found in the resolutions of the father 
 of Solomon Psa. ci. 1 8. 
 
 Verses 14, 15. "The wrath of the king is as messengers 
 of death : but a wise man will pacify it. In the light of 
 the king's countenance is life; and his favour is as a cloud 
 of the latter rain." These verses contain a striking contrast 
 between the effects of royal displeasure, and of royal fa- 
 vour. The sentiment of the former verse was strikingly 
 true then of the capricious fury of Eastern despots; and 
 in all arbitrary governments it is so still. Human nature 
 remains the same; and hence the tendencies of absolute 
 power remain the same. It has been truly said, that ab- 
 solute power is safe in no hands but those of God. Many 
 a time have those Eastern despots, whose will was law, and 
 their frown death to their trembling vassals, when any 
 one had done them a displeasure, given " the messengers of 
 death" their secret and summary commission, consigning the 
 victim of their resentment, without trial and without warn- 
 ing, to the dungeon, and giving him his choice of the bowl 
 or the bowstring. On the contrary, "in the light, of the 
 king's coiintenance is life ; and his favour is as a cloud 
 of the latter rain." "Life" here, as in other places, means 
 prosperity and joy happy life. And "a cloud of the lat- 
 ter rain" may be regarded as the emblem at once of plea- 
 sure and of benefit. The shower which it pours down to
 
 90 LECTURE XLII. 
 
 water the earth is at once refreshing and fructifying. Thus 
 to Hainan the wrath of Ahasuerus was as " messengers of 
 <leath," wliile to Mordecai his favour was " as a cloud of the 
 latter rain." Thus to Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, the 
 wrath of the incensed Nebuchadnezzar was the "messenger of 
 death;" but when their God had preserved them in the 
 sevenfold heated furnace, and turned the wrath of the king 
 into astonishment and repentance, his favour returned to 
 them like "the cloud of latter rain." Thus to the enemies of 
 Daniel was the wrath of Darius ; and thus to Daniel himself 
 was his favour. 
 
 The prudence of every "wise man" will seek to avert "the 
 wrath" and to secure "the favour" of one who has so much 
 in his power, not, if he be a man of principle as well as 
 prudence, in any way inconsistent with honour and integ- 
 r it,y ; but by all means which do not compromise these; 
 as by every becoming, though by no undignified and syco- 
 phantish, concession.* Of such wisdom the wisdom of 
 "the children of this world," we have an example in the 
 conduct of the men of Tyre and Sidon to the ambitious and 
 vindictive Herod.t Theirs was carnal policy, the unprin- 
 cipled prudence of selfishness, escaping evil to itself by ful- 
 some, impious, and as it proved, destructive adulation to the 
 aspiring pride of another. Let us be thankful that we live 
 in a land of liberty, where the law is above the royal will, 
 where, without the law, " the wrath of the king" is impotent ; 
 where, (and, though in some respects it may be question- 
 able, yet is it a beautiful provision of the Constitution) 
 though the supreme power has the privilege of remitting a 
 sentence of death by -showing mercy, there is no right of 
 reversing at will a sentence of acquittal, and consigning to 
 death when the law has awarded life. It is the characteris r 
 tic prerogative of the ruler of a free country of a law-con- 
 trolled prince in opposition to a prince-controlled law. 
 
 Suffer a few closing reflections. 
 
 1. What was said, in the course of exposition, on the im- 
 
 * Comp. Eccl. x. 4. f Soe Acts xii. 20 2-i.
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 613. 91 
 
 portance of deliberation in giving judgment, may be said 
 in regard to the publication of opinions. No man should 
 form his sentiments hastily; and far less should he hastily 
 enunciate them ; especially when he has reason to know that 
 his opinion will go far with any considerable, portion of the 
 community. He should, in that case, be solicitous that every 
 sentence to which he gives utterance on any subject should 
 be a " divine sentence " one in harmony with the mind of 
 God. Men are at times tempted, by the very circumstance 
 of their having got the public ear, to give forth their opi- 
 nions more crudely, pluming themselves on their intuitive 
 quickness, and trusting to their oracular authority. But con- 
 duct the very reverse should be the result of the confidence 
 placed in their judgment ; the greater should be the anxiety 
 not to do harm by presuming on that confidence, but to 
 be all the surer of their ground. 
 
 2. He is the truest patriot, the best friend of his country, 
 who contributes most to the extension of the knowledge, the 
 virtue, and the religion of the people. That man more ef- 
 fectually advances its true interests, its solid greatness, its 
 prosperity, its happiness, and the safety and stability of its 
 government, than he who augments its resources of wealth and 
 power and territory, and means of hostile aggression. The 
 best educated, and the most moral people; and above all, 
 the people among whom there is the most extensive preva- 
 lence of the principles of true religion, will invariably be, 
 as they are the best, the happiest people ; and the throne 
 of such a nation the most secure and well-established. 
 The surest way to provide for the political and commercial 
 prosperity of BRITAIN is to seek the advancement in her of 
 knowledge, religion, and sound morality, in the train of 
 which all else that is good will securely follow. And this 
 implies, that we use such influence as we have, in a legiti- 
 mate form, to avert such measures as might tend to the de- 
 terioration of the country, directly or indirectly, in her most 
 important interests, by multiplying temptations to crime, 
 and, through the abridgment of the resources for obtaining 
 education to the rising generation, ensuring ignorance, with
 
 92 LECTURE XLII. 
 
 all its wretched results, as the future character of the com- 
 munity. 
 
 Finally, whatever, in the form of good, is true of the best 
 princes on earth, is all true, without the slightest alloy or 
 drawback, of the Kang of Zion. His abhorrence of evil is in- 
 finite. The authority and the certain efficacy of His word 
 are absolute. Every sentence of His is truly " a divine 
 sentence" worthy of being executed, and as sure as it is 
 worthy. Fearful and fatal are the eifects of His displeasure, 
 and the excellence of His favour is above all price. ! if 
 you would deprecate the anger, and desire the favour of a 
 fellow-creature who had it even in his power to kill the 
 body, or to ruin your interests for time ; how can' you think 
 of living for another day, another hour, another moment, 
 under the frown of God, and in a state of exposure to His 
 wrath? Truly may it be said of this wrath, "a wise man 
 will pacify it." But there is no way which human wisdom 
 could ever have devised to " pacify it.". It can be pacified 
 Cowards you not by any means of your own devising, but 
 only by your acquiescing in that which God has devised. 
 The Lord Jesus Christ is your peace. In HIM Jehovah is 
 well pleased. In Him- he waits to be gracious. ' He has 
 no pleasure in sending against you the messengers of death, 
 but rather delights in waiting over your souls as a cloud of 
 the latter rain, ready to discharge its shower of blessing !
 
 LECTURE XLTII. 
 
 PROV. xvi. 1626. 
 
 " How much better is it to get wisdom than gold ? and to get understand- 
 ing rather to. be chosen than silver? The highway of the upright is to 
 depart from evil: he that keepeth his way preserveth his soul. Pride goeth 
 before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall. Better is it to be of an 
 humble spirit with the lowly, than to divide the spoil with the proud. He that 
 handleth a matter wisely shall find good ; and whoso trusteth in the Lord, hap- 
 py is he. The wise in heart shall be called prudent; and the sweetness of the 
 lips increased) learning. Understanding is a well-spring of life unto him that 
 hath it: but the instruction of fools is folly. The heart of the wise teacheth his 
 mouth, and addeth learning to his lips. Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, 
 sweet to the soul, and health to the bones. There is a way that seemeth right 
 unto a man ; but the end thereof are the ways of death. He that laboured], 
 laboured! for himself; fer his month cmveth it of him." 
 
 THE first of these verses might be taken in connexion with 
 what immediately precedes. In the fourteenth verse, one of 
 the benefits of wisdom is mentioned; namely, its suggest- 
 ing to its possessor the desirableness, and the most eligible 
 means, of evading impending danger from the displeasure 
 of those in authority : " The wrath of the king is as mes- 
 sengers of death: but a wise man will pacify it." In 'this 
 respect, then, " How much better is it to get wisdom than 
 gold *? and to get understanding rather to be chosen than 
 silver?" What wisdom thus effects, riches cannot. Wealth, 
 and its attendant influence, may even lead to the opposite 
 result exciting the prince's jealousy; and where they are 
 possessed without wisdom, they are the more likely to pro- 
 duce this evil And if ordinary wisdom is,- on such accounts.
 
 94 LECTURE XLIII. 
 
 preferable to riches how strongly does the sentiment ap- 
 ply to true, heavenly, divine wisdom, as delivering from the 
 wrath not of any mere earthly monarch, but of the " King of 
 kings," the Euler of the universe!* 
 
 The same lesson, under another form, is conveyed by the 
 next verse, " The highway of the upright is to depart from 
 evil: he that keepeth his way preserveth his soul"- -"The 
 highway" is the way which Jehovah, the God of heaven, 
 has "cast up." It is the way of the "upright" the way of 
 God's people; and it is "to depart from evil." As the man 
 who has turned his back upon a place, taking the road that 
 leads most directly from it, and anxiously pressing on in 
 that road, to get as fast and as far from it as possible, so 
 is "the upright" man in regard to sin. He has turned his 
 back upon it. He has, with decided step, taken God's "high- 
 way" and will not be tempted into any of sin's devious 
 paths: for well he knows that he, and he only, "that keep- 
 eth his way" the way of faith and obedience; the faith of 
 God's truth, and the obedience of God's precepts, "preserveth 
 his soul" 
 
 Verse 18. "Pride goeth before destruction, and an haugh- 
 ty spirit before a fall" t Many are the exemplifications of 
 this left on record in God's word. It was when Nebuchad- 
 nezzar's heart was lifted up with pride when in a spirit of 
 self-elation he said, " Is not this great Babylon, that I have 
 built for the house of the kingdom by the might of my 
 power, and for the honour of my majesty?" that he was 
 visited with the most humiliating of heaven's chastisements ; 
 until he was constrained to acknowledge Jehovah's supremacy, 
 and to publish the lesson " Them that walk in pride He 
 is able to abase." It was when his son Belshazzar "humbled 
 not himself, though he knew this, but lifted himself up against 
 the Lord of heaven," and "praised the gods of silver and 
 gold," and profaned the sacred vessels of Jehovah, bringing 
 upon himself the charge "The God in whose hand thy 
 
 * On the general sentiment, in regard to wisdom, see chap. iii. 15 
 18: iv. 7: viii. 10. 11, 1821. 
 t See chap. xi. 2 : xv. 25, 33, &c.
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 1626. 95 
 
 breath is, and whose are all thy ways, hast thou not glori- 
 fied" that his doom was written on his palace- Avail by the 
 hand of mystery and dread; and that night the terrible 
 doom fulfilled. And in the experience of his people God 
 has often checked and punished the obnoxious priiiciple. 
 David suffered for it when he numbered the people; and 
 Hezekiah suffered for it when he made his ostentatious dis- 
 play to the ambassadors of Babylon, 
 
 Verse 1 9. " Better it is to be of an humble spirit with the 
 lowly, than to divide the spoil with the proud." In many 
 respects "it is better." The spirit of the humble is contented, 
 unaspiring, cheerful, submissive ; and happier by far is this 
 spirit than that of "the proud:" who may indeed have the 
 temporary advantage may "divide the spoil" may obtain 
 and exult over the plunder of their fallen rivals may revel 
 in the attainment of their property and their honour : but, 
 after all, their riches and their glory are no more than 
 
 meteors in the midnight sky, 
 
 That glitter for a while and die." 
 
 They " flash, and fade." The higher their elevation, -the 
 deeper their fall. The brighter their splendour, the gloomier 
 the darkness by which it is succeeded! 
 
 The connexion is sufficiently natural between this verse and 
 what follows. Pride renders him who is the subject of it 
 hasty and rash. Impatient precipitation is one of its dis- 
 tinctive features. Humble -mindedness is necessary to steady, 
 cautious, discreet Action. Hence, " he that handleth a matter 
 wisely shall find good." The obvious sense is that thorough 
 understanding of business and prudent management of it, tend 
 to ensure a prosperous issue. And if the business is another's, 
 the intelligent, cautious, successful conducting of it, will pro- 
 cure benefit by the favour it conciliates, and the character it 
 establishes. One business well conducted brings a man another. 
 This is the way to get forward in the world. And in pro- 
 portion as the intrusted transaction is difficult and delicate, 
 will the "handling of.it wisely" prove advantageous. Still 
 there is no amount of human understanding and discretion
 
 % LECTURE XLIII. 
 
 that can render success in any transaction certain. The re- 
 sult rests with God. Hence a very natural connexion of the 
 latter clause of the verse with the former : " And," or but, 
 "whoso trusteth in the Lord, happy is he." Here is the 
 true secret of happiness the union, in all things, of pru- 
 dence and diligence, with trust in God. Trust must be asso- 
 ciated with effort. And when it pleases God, after all has 
 been done within the limits of human power, to withhold 
 the blessing, our happiness lies in the faith that all is well; 
 
 that GOD sees it to be so, and that, had we the eye of 
 
 God the eye that "seeth the end from the beginning," 
 we should be fully satisfied of this; and discover that 
 any change, such as would have conformed the result more 
 to our anticipations and wishes, would have been "for the 
 worse." It is also a comfort and satisfaction, when we are 
 disappointed, to feel that we have "done what we could." 
 Disappointment is thus resolved into the will of God; whose 
 will, while sovereign, is ever determined by a wisdom incap- 
 able of error, a faithfulness incapable of failure, and a love 
 incapable of any step really and ultimately injurious to its 
 objects, and thus the heart is at rest in the Lord. 
 
 Let it be further observed, that " handling a matter wise- 
 ly" does not mean handling it cunningly, with artifice and 
 what the apostle calls "fleshly wisdom" the policy of tliis 
 world ; but with a wisdom and prudence in harmony with the 
 most rigid and straightforward integrity. Double-dealing 
 may be misnamed wisdom ; the arts of a tortuous cunning 
 may be dignified with the designation of prudence ; but when 
 such wisdom, such prudence, has been- employed, even the 
 greatest amount of success can impart little that deserves the 
 name of happiness. There can be none, where conscience in- 
 terferes, and inserts its secret envenoming sting. And no 
 man who is using the arts of a crooked policy can exercise 
 trust in God. The two things are incompatible. Who can 
 unite disobedience and confidence ] What ! act in opposition 
 to the precepts of Him who " desireth truth in the inward 
 parts," and yet profess to trust in him for success! Look for 
 God's blessing on the violation of God's will ! That were
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 1626. 97 
 
 infatuation indeed ! How could David trust in God for the 
 success of his plan against Uriah the Hittite a plan to ac- 
 complish adultery by murder? There was art in it; but 
 there was not wisdom. The art was the art of hell; and 
 success left a barb rankling in the soul 
 
 Verse 21. "The wise in heart shall be called prudent; 
 and the sweetness of the lips increaseth learning." Some 
 translators invert the first part of the verse " The prudent 
 shall be called wise in heart." There is no need for any 
 such change. "The wise in heart" are those who, under 
 the influence of sound principles, know how to "order 
 their affairs with discretion." Men of the most splen- 
 did powers and attainments are not always the most remark- 
 able for practical good sense. Better, therefore, in many 
 respects, is the man whose wisdom regulates his temper and 
 affections, his words and actions, aright. Tliat is far more 
 important, for the production of personal and social happi- 
 ness, than the most brilliant genius without it. He "shall 
 be called prudent," means his having a character for it 
 his being looked up to, respected, consulted, confided in, 
 chosen as an adviser. Such a man is more truly valuable 
 and useful, than the man of mere learning, who has not dis- 
 cretion and common sense to guide the use of it. We see 
 the effect of the manifestation of "wisdom of heart" in procur- 
 ing reputation and inspiring confidence, in the case of Solo- 
 mon in his first recorded act of judgment 1 Kings iii. 28. 
 
 It is, at the same time, of great moment, that along with 
 the possession of wisdom and prudence, there be " the sweet- 
 ness of the Ujjs" or honeyed lips gentleness and persua- 
 siveness of counsel impressive eloquence of speech : which 
 gives vast advantage in the application of wisdom for the 
 benefit of others. It " increaseth learning " effectually spread- 
 ing it rendering others wise as well as the possessor himself. 
 
 If the "wise in heart" be understood of the truly, spir- 
 itually, divinely wise, then the phrase "shall be called pru- 
 dent" must be interpreted, according to a common Hebrew 
 idiom, as meani:i t '' i* prudent" deserves to be so called. The 
 sentiment will thus be the oft-repeated one, that tnit religion 
 
 II. G
 
 no LECTURE XLIII. 
 
 *7O 
 
 is the only genuine prudence. And is it not so? we ask anew. 
 Take as a standard the ordinary maxims of prudence among 
 men. Is it the part of prudence to be considerate 1 ? to look 
 forward? to anticipate, as far as possible, the contingencies 
 of the future? to provide against evil? to make sure of 
 ;,i-tMig good? Then is true religion the very perfection of 
 prudence. It secures the happiness of both worlds; the 
 most substantial enjoyment in this, and eternal life in the 
 uext. These ordinary maxims of prudence would more 
 than justify no small sacrifices in the present life nay even 
 the endurance of continued privation and suffering during 
 the entire course of it, were the result to be, insiiring the 
 blessedness of a never-ending existence. It is capable of 
 more than demonstration it is intuitively manifest that if 
 life were prolonged to an antediluvian continuance, it would 
 be the part of wisdom cheerfully to submit to have Methu- 
 selah's nine hundred and sixty-nine years rilled up every 
 moment with the most intense and varied of torments, were 
 these to secure the happiness of eternity of which nine 
 hundred and sixty-nine times that period does not so much 
 as form a part ! It would, beyond all controversy, be a bar- 
 gain of prudence. But, blessed be God ! there is no call to 
 any such purchase. "Godliness has promise of the life that 
 now is, as well as of that wluch is to come." The ways of 
 true religion are even here "ways of pleasantness and peace." 
 Verse 22. " Understanding is a well-spring of life unto 
 liirn that hath it: but the instruction of fools is folly."* 
 "Understanding" must here be taken in its highest accepta- 
 tion, as synonymous with spiritual illumination the divine- 
 ly imparted discernment of the truth and excellence of divine 
 discoveries. For, although even the ordinary exercise of in- 
 U'lleet, in the acquisition and use of general knowledge, is, 
 without doubt, a source of real, enjoyment, and may, in 
 ar interior sense, be called a "well-spring of life" one of 
 the fountains from which the happiness of life is drawn ; 
 yet the expression, as it occurs in Scripture, means something 
 
 * Compare chap. xiii. 16: and chap. xiv. 27.
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 1626. 99 
 
 more even a spring from which life itself is obtained a 
 life-giving spring; and the life that is yielded is the happy 
 life that lies in God's favour. The spiritual understanding 
 of divine truth is' "a well-spring of life" to the person himself 
 who possesses it, and it is a fountain from which streams 
 of life-giving influence flow forth to others. Let me refer you 
 to two passages for illustration. Our Lord says " This is 
 life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, 
 and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent."* The words ex- 
 press two things, first, that the thing known is the ground 
 of eternal life ; and secondly, that the knowledge of it is the 
 principle of eternal life. He who, by the illumination of 
 the Spirit, possesses this knowledge, has, in his mind and 
 heart, the essential element of the life the germ from which 
 it springs its " incorruptible seed." Jesus further says, " Who- 
 soever drinketh of this water shall thirst again : but who- 
 soever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall 
 never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be 
 in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life."t 
 It matters little whether the water that Christ gives be in- 
 terpreted of the water of divine instruction, or of the Holy 
 Spirit's influence; for the two are inseparable. It is the 
 Spirit imparting divine knowledge, or it is divine know- 
 ledge imparted by the Spirit, that becomes, in him who 
 enjoys it, this "well of water" "the water of life." 
 
 And, as I have remarked, it sends forth streams for the 
 benefit of others; becomes not only a living but a life-<7/V- 
 ing fountain. Thus Jesus says of the Spirit " He that 
 believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly 
 shall flow rivers of living water." J The instructions of the 
 spiritually enlightened man are life-giving instructions. 
 
 "But the instruction of fools is folly" These words are 
 capable of two senses. 1. They may mean that the instruc- 
 tion imparted to fools is like themselves: what can come 
 out of a fool but folly? 2. They may mean that the in- 
 
 * John xvii. 3. f J lin iv - 13, 14. 
 
 J Sec John vii. 3739.
 
 100 LECTURE XLIIL 
 
 struction imparted to fools is labour lost, the attempt to 
 teach them,/0%. From the antithesis in the verse, the for- 
 mer seems the more likely sense. What comes from the 
 mouth must correspond with what is within: and this is 
 true, both as to temporal and as to spiritual things. 
 
 The next verse proceeds on the same general principle, and 
 may serve for the further illustration of this " The heart of 
 the wise teacheth his mouth, and addeth learning to his lips." 
 
 1. That which the wise man utters is in itself good in- 
 structive, edifying, "profitable to direct." The streams bear 
 analogy to the fountain. 
 
 2. The wise man uses the understanding, the wisdom and 
 knowledge, imparted to him, for the benefit of others. The 
 wisdom that is in his heart passes to his lips. All that he 
 knows, he seeks to turn to use, as "a good steward of the 
 manifold grace of God." 
 
 3. His self-knowledge his experience of his own heart 
 his incessant self-inspection his intimate acquaintance with 
 the secret tendencies and workings of his own mind, in the 
 various scenes and circumstances of life his knowledge both 
 of " the old man " and of " the new man " in their respective prin- 
 ciples and influences, as they exist and contend within him- 
 self all qualify him for wisely and judiciously counselling 
 others, according to their characters and situations : for "as in 
 water face answereth to face ; so the heart of man to man." 
 There may be, there are, many varieties of peculiar char- 
 acter; but the great general features both of corruption and 
 of grace are the same in all ; and an intimate experimental 
 acquaintance with them in their diversified and conflicting 
 operations in the soul, is a most important qualification of 
 a spiritual teacher and counsellor rendering him at once 
 discerning and humble ; the discernment dictating the appro- 
 priate counsel, and the humility imparting to it its appropri- 
 ate tone. Which leads me to notice 
 
 4. The truly wise man will, in his wisdom, accommodate 
 the manner of his instructions and counsels to the varying 
 characters and tempers of his fellow-men. A vast deaf de- 
 pends on this. The end is often lost, not for want of wis-
 
 -PEOVERBS XVI. 1626. 101 
 
 dom in the lesson itself but for lack of discretion in the 
 mode of imparting it. 
 
 A thorough knowledge of anatomy is necessary to a judi- 
 cious and successful practice in the operations of surgery. 
 Ere he venture to make his incision, the surgeon ought 
 to understand all about the region where it is to be 
 made, what arteries, veins, glands, nerves, lie in the way 
 of his instrument; and should be fully aware of the 
 peculiarities of the case under his treatment. In like man- 
 ner an intimate acquaintance with the anatomy of the heart 
 is necessary to discriminative and successful dealing with 
 moral cases to the suitable communication of instruction 
 and advice. "Without the surgical knowledge mentioned, 
 a practitioner may inflict a worse evil than the one he means 
 to cure. And so, through ignorance of moral anatomy, 
 may the injudicious adviser, who treats all cases alike, and 
 makes no account of the peculiarities of character and situ- 
 ation with which he has to do. 
 
 Verse 24. " Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet 
 to the soul, and health to the bones." Honey was prized by 
 those of old time, not only as a luxury to the palate, but on 
 account of its medicinal and salutary properties. To this 
 there is an allusion here. The words express the twofold 
 idea of pleasantness and of benefit. Many things have the 
 one quality, which have not the other. Many a poison is 
 like honey, sweet to the taste; but, instead of being "health 
 to the bones," is laden with death. So may it be in regard to 
 their present effect and their ultimate influence, with words. 
 
 Harshness and severity never afford pleasure, and seldom 
 yield profit. If they were, in any case, requisite to the lat- 
 ter, we should be under the necessity of giving it the prefer- 
 ence, for profit must ever take precedence of mere pleasure. 
 But it will usually be found that both are united. Pleasant 
 words, however, must be distinguished from flattering words. 
 The latter may at the time be palatable, but they can never 
 be otherwise than injurious ; for they are not words of truth. 
 
 " Pleasant words" may be understood of \vords of sooth- 
 ing sympathy and comfort in the season of trouble. These
 
 102 
 
 LECTURE XLIII. 
 
 are indeed "sweet to the soul" of the disconsolate mourner; 
 and they are strength to all the principles of rectitude 
 within him. For in regard to consolation, as in regard to 
 everything else, the pleasant words must be true words. If 
 not, the consolation cannot be true consolation, and will 
 prove bitterness in the latter end. 
 
 "Pleasant words" again may be understood of the gentle 
 though firm language of needful and salutary reproof. Such 
 reproof must be administered in faithfulness and love; as 
 little in the terms of angry severity as affectionate fidelity will 
 allow. " A soft tongue breaketh the bone." Faithfulness 
 may be maintained in perfect harmony with gentleness. He 
 is in a mighty mistake, who fancies he cannot be faithful 
 otherwise than by being high, and violent, and dictatorial 
 There are varieties of temper, no doubt, to be dealt with ; 
 but, in general, one word of manifestly sincere affection will 
 go further towards our object "the gaining of our brother," 
 than a hundred of intemperate invective. If we have a 
 bitter or otherwise disagreeable medicine to administer, we 
 are desirous, in proportion to its own nauseousness, to con- 
 vey it in a pleasant vehicle. Thus should we do with re- 
 proof. It is itself .bitter in some cases most unpalatable. 
 Let it be administered in honey the honey of "pleasant 
 words." It will thus be the better taken ; and indeed in 
 this case in the case of moral distemper and moral influ- 
 ence the sweetness of the accents will contribute to the 
 efficacy of the medicine of reproof that is conveyed in them. 
 The more distasteful we know any advice to be, while we 
 know it at the same time to be salutary, the more reason is 
 there for the words in which it is communicated to be "plea- 
 sant words." In the case of the body, we must not sacrifice 
 the health to the mere gratification of the palate; but, on 
 the other hand, it would be untender and harsh, to make the 
 potion on purpose bitter and nauseous, when the health does 
 not at all require our doing so, but would be equally the 
 better for it, if taken in a pleasant as if taken in an unplea- 
 sant vehicle, in honey as in gall 
 
 The same observation may be applied to all controversy.
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 1626. 103 
 
 If our object be to convince and to reclaim, to disabuse the 
 mind of error and to recommend truth, we do what lies in 
 our power to frustrate that object when we make use of irri- 
 tating words, words of contempt and of anger, words of 
 personality and violence. The maxim ought ever to be 
 "Soft words and hard arguments." Soft words are not 
 weak and tame words. In proportion to the importance and 
 certainty of our position must our words be decided and 
 strong. But they may be both, and yet words of love ; both 
 as to our subject, while they are gentle and pleasant to our 
 adversary's person. The two should ever be kept distinct. 
 And the more important our subject, and the more solicitous 
 we are to make a favourable impression in regard to our view 
 of it, the more solicitous should we be to shun all that might 
 prove repulsive and provoking. 
 
 For the illustration of the twenty-fifth verse the reader 
 is referred to chap. xiv. 1 2, where the same sentiment occurs. 
 
 Verse 26. "He that laboureth, laboureth for himself; for 
 his mouth craveth it of him." A rendering considerably 
 different, and conveying quite a different sentiment, has by 
 some critics been given of this verse ; and the sense in which 
 they understand it is supported by the authority of the Sep- 
 tuagint: "The troublesome person troubleth himself; for 
 his mouth turneth upon "him." The sentiment thus extract- 
 ed from the words is one of which the truth is many a time 
 realized; namely, that the evil which the troublesome man 
 utters, and by which he vexes, disquiets, and injures others, 
 shall ultimately return in damage to himself. It does so 
 amongst men, by his becoming the object of universal sus- 
 picion, distrust, and resentment hated and shunned; and 
 in his misfortunes unpitied. And from God he receives his 
 due recompense. He makes his evil dispositions his tor- 
 mentors and punishers ; causes his words to betray and injure 
 himself; and in the end requites him according to his ill- 
 deserts. 
 
 While this is a truth, I am inclined to regard it as somewhat 
 a forced and unnatural interpretation of the original words, 
 and our own received translation as simpler and preferable :
 
 1()4 LECTURE XLIII. 
 
 "He that laboureth, laboureth for himself; for his mouth 
 craveth it of him" or presseih on him or urgeth it on 
 him.* The sentiment is,' that hunger is the incentive to la- 
 bour. Man must have sustenance, and to obtain it he must 
 work . He who will not work must starve. In " the 
 sweat of his face" must man eat his bread. In civilized 
 life, no doubt, there are many artificial wants. Various lux- 
 uries are desired, in addition to the means of subsistence and 
 even the comforts of life. But the original, the primary and 
 proper impulse to labour is, the necessity and the "craving" 
 for food. This is first. Other things are superinduced upon it. t 
 Let not the sentiment before us, however, be misinter- 
 preted and abused, as if it savoured of selfishness, or was 
 meant to give it any countenance. It does not mean that 
 the labour of man ought to be, or even that it may law- 
 fully be, solely for himself for his own mouth alone. There 
 are other and ulterior objects of labour. There is nothing 
 selfish in the pervading spirit, or in any one precept, of the 
 word of God. A noble and exalted motive to labour is laid 
 down by the Apostle Paul " Let him that stole steal no 
 more: but rather let him labour, working with his hands 
 the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him 
 that needeth," Eph. iv. 28. There is thus infused into the 
 toils even of the humblest sphere the principle and spirit of 
 benevolence. A man must, in the first instance, labour for 
 himself and for his family: his own mouth and theirs 
 " crave it of him." But when he has a little how little soever 
 to spare, he is to indulge the sympathies of his heart for 
 others, who may be still worse off than himself. And let 
 it not by any be forgotten, especially in these times of 
 hardship, how distressing it is, when a man is disposed to 
 labour, and, with all his anxiety and pains, cannot find 
 work to do ! Such industrious poor ought to be pitied and 
 relieved ; and everything done that can be done, to open for 
 
 * " The appetite of him who toil*, is toilsome to him. (i. e. makes 
 him strenuously exert himself) /or his mouth uryeth him on (i. e. tor 
 appetite is urgent)." Stuart. 
 
 f liccl. vi. 7.
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 1626. 105 
 
 them permanent sources of employment and comfort, both 
 by individuals and by the government of the country. 
 
 Alas ! that the craving of the mouth for " the meat that 
 perisheth" should be so universal, and should keep the whole 
 world ever astir, while there is so little desire after "the 
 meat which endureth unto everlasting life !" Alas, that 
 there should be so little labouring for it for "the bread that 
 came down from heaven to give life unto the world ! " that 
 the prayer of felt necessity and earnest desire should come 
 from, so few lips " Lord, evermore give us that bread ! " 
 Why is it so? Simply because the wants of the body are 
 felt, and not those of the soul; the necessity of providing 
 for the present life, and not that of providing for the life to 
 come. that men were wise! that they would attend to 
 the gracious and faithful admonition and counsel of the 
 " Friend of sinners " " Labour not for the meat which per- 
 isheth, but for that meat Avhich endureth unto everlasting 
 life, which the Son of man shall give unto you ! " Mark well 
 his solemn words "I am the living bread which came down 
 from heaven : if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for 
 ever: and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I 
 will give for the life of the world. Verily, verily, I say unto 
 you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man', and drink 
 his blood, ye have no life in you." Labouring implies some 
 impression of the value of that for which we make the exer- 
 tion. the preciousness of life eternal ! and consequently 
 of the means of obtaining it the " living bread the bread 
 of life ! " There is no labour that would be too much for 
 this. But it is offered to sinners as God's free gift, "without 
 money and without price." When a sinner, however, has be- 
 Heved the gospel, has felt his destitution and his need, 
 and the value of the life which the gospel reveals, what toil, 
 what self-denial, what sacrifices, will he not submit to, with 
 cheerfulness, for its final and full attainment ! * 
 
 In conclusion 1. If it be a truth that "happy is he who 
 trusteth in the Lord," then " he not against the truth," by 
 
 * Compare 2 Cor. v. 9: Phil. iii. 810.
 
 I 06 LECTURE XLIII. 
 
 professing to trust, and yet showing none of the peace and 
 joy which such trust should inspire. If you betray the same 
 anxiety and carefulness, the same trepidation, the same fret- 
 ful disquietude in disappointment, which are shown by the 
 men of the world, well may they ask, Where is your reli- 
 gion? and throw the further question in your teeth, " What 
 do ye more than others?" manifest its happy tendency; 
 doing your duty with active cheerfulness, blessing God if 
 you succeed, and bowing, and still blessing Him if you fail 
 
 2. Study to ascertain your respective talents, and with- 
 out " thinking of yourselves more highly than you ought to 
 think, but thinking soberly," use them for the glory of your 
 Master, and for the benefit of your fellow-men. Know- 
 ledge of business and of the world; knowledge of divine 
 truth and of the things of God ; wisdom and experience in 
 the affairs of life, or in spiritual concerns; the power of 
 speech and persuasive address ; all descriptions of authority 
 and influence, whatever it be by the use of which you 
 may be useful, employ it with this view : whether it be in 
 instructing the ignorant, in counselling the heedless, in estab- 
 lishing the unsettled, in comforting the cast down, in direct- 
 ing the perplexed, in pleading the cause of the injured, in 
 warning and strengthening the tempted, in reclaiming the 
 wandering, in cheering the pilgrims on their way to Zion. 
 
 3. We have been speaking of the importance of accom- 
 modating instruction and counsel to character and situation : 
 there is one character and one situation that is common to 
 ALL all differing, yet all alike. Sinner is the general char- 
 acter of mankind, without one exception; guilty and lost 
 their universal condition. And for this common character 
 and common condition, there is a common counsel and 
 there is but one: "BELIEVE ox THE LORD JESUS CHRIST, 
 
 AND THOC SHALT BE SAVED."
 
 LECTURE XLIY. 
 
 PROV. xvi. 27 33. 
 
 "An ungodly man diggeth up evil; and in his lips there is as a burning fire. 
 A froward man soweth strife; and a whisperer separateth chief friends. A vio- 
 lent man enticeth his neighbour, and leadeth him into the way that is not good. 
 He shutteth his eyes to devise froward things; moving his lips he bringeth evil 
 to pass. The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righ- 
 teousness. He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty ; and he that 
 ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city. The lot is cast into the lap; but the 
 whole disposing thereof is of the Lord." 
 
 IN the first of these verses, "an ungodly man" is, in the ori- 
 ginal, "A son of Belial;" a frequent designation of the 
 wicked of those who "have no fear of God before their 
 eyes." In the expression " diggeth up evil" two ideas may 
 be included : 
 
 1. Taking pains to devise it. We dig and search for 
 treasure in a mine, or where we fancy it lies concealed : 
 thus the wicked man, the " son of Belial," does in regard to 
 " evil" It is his treasure that on which he sets his heart ; 
 and for it, as for treasure, he "digs" and searches, ay, 
 often deep and long. His very happiness seems to depend 
 on his reaching and finding it. He is specially laborious 
 and persevering, when any one chances to have become the 
 object of his pique or malice. Marvellous is the assiduity 
 with which he then strains every nerve to produce mis- 
 chief, plodding and plotting for it, mining and under- 
 mining, exploring in every direction, often where no one 
 could think of but himself, and, with savage delight, exult-
 
 108 LEOTUKE XL1V. 
 
 ing in the discovery of aught that can be made available for 
 his diabolical purpose. 
 
 2. Taking pains to revive it, after it has been buried 
 and 'forgotten. He goes down into the very graves of old 
 quarrels; brings them up afresh; puts new life into them; 
 wakes up grudges that had long slept; and sets people by 
 the ears again, who had abandoned their enmities, and had 
 for years been living in reconciliation and peace. 
 
 As to "evil," whether old or new, "the son of Belial" is 
 like one in quest of some mine of coal or of precious metal 
 He examines his ground; and wherever he discovers any 
 hopeful symptoms on the surface, he proceeds to drill, and 
 bore, and excavate. The slightest probability of success will 
 be enough for his encouragement to toil f and harass himself 
 night and day until he can make something of it. The per- 
 severing pains of such men would be incredible were they 
 not sadly attested by facts: "They search out iniquities; 
 they accomplish a diligent search : both the inward thought 
 of every one of them, and the heart, is deep." * 
 
 The latter part of the verse corresponds well with the 
 former " And in his lips there is as a burning fire." This 
 is a contrast to the "pleasant words" of the 24th verse. 
 The " burning fire" is the fire of pride, of passion, or of lust : 
 perhaps, from the immediate connexion, words such as serve 
 for kindling the flames of contention and discord, whether in 
 families, or in the circles of intimacy and friendship, to which 
 his malignant influence finds access. The heart burns with 
 envy and malice; and the words of the lips get their fire 
 from within ; both, in the strong terms of the Apostle James, 
 being " set on fire of hell." The three following verses con- 
 tinue the description of these " sons of BeliaL"t 
 
 "Verse 28. "A froward man soweth strife: and a whis- 
 perer separateth chief friends." They try, wherever they can 
 find any even the smallest room for them, to insert the seeds 
 
 * Comp. Psal. Ixiv. 16. 
 
 f They bear a close resemblance, in the spirit of the character they 
 describe, to previous passages chap. i. 1014; ii. 10 15; vi. 12 
 
 14.
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 2733. 109 
 
 of animosity ; and, with a devilish interest, they watch their 
 secret germination and their gradual growth. They suit 
 their practice to the particular case : more open and direct 
 in the means they use in one case ; more covert and cunning 
 in another. 
 
 " Whispering" is one of their favourite resources. This 
 whispering is carried on with both parties, while each is 
 kept in careful ignorance of what is said of him to the other. 
 Insinuations, intended to engender suspicion and jealousy, 
 are thrown out to the one and to the other respecting his 
 friend. Mutual coolness ensues, and neither can understand 
 why; each wonders what can possibly be the cause. And 
 thus the firmest, the longest, the warmest, and most confiding 
 attachments the sources of life's sweetest joys are broken 
 up, perhaps for ever. 
 
 These sons of Belial are also tempters of others : Verse 
 29. "A violent manenticeth his neighbour, and leadeth him 
 into the way that is not good." 
 
 A fearful employment a fearful delight ! Yet the em- 
 ployment would not be followed, were there not pleasure in 
 it. The pleasure is fiendish laying plans, and putting 
 every vile art into practice, to seduce the virtuous and 
 especially virtuous and unsuspecting youth from the way 
 of rectitude ! Not the young only entice one another ; but 
 men of gray hairs, the veterans of infidelity and vice, may 
 be found weaving their nets for the feet of virtue, and spread- 
 ing them with all subtlety and care. There is not on earth 
 a more perfect impersonation of Satanic malignity than such 
 a hoary-headed seducer. 
 
 As " there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repent- 
 eth," so is there a malicious joy in hell when such tempters 
 succeed in turning any from the right to the wrong, from the 
 narrow to the broad, way. This is the joy of fiends ; the 
 other of angels : the one the joy of Satan; the other of Jesus 
 and of God. 
 
 The character is completed in verse 30 " He shutteth his 
 eyes to devise froward things : moving his lips he bringeth 
 evil to pass."
 
 HO LECTURE XLIV. 
 
 A man " shuts Ms eyes" when he wishes to think closely 
 and undistractedly. "The ungodly man" does it for the 
 purpose of planning and maturing "mischievous devices." 
 When he "shuts his eyes" even in bed, while others sleep, 
 it is to meditate on schemes of evil And then, having 
 digested his schemes inwardly, he employs his "lips" in 
 their artful accomplishment. Thus mind and mouth are 
 in concert for evil the latter the agent and servant of the 
 former.* 
 
 The connexion of suggestion is abundantly manifest be- 
 tween the description in these verses and the verse which 
 follows : " The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found 
 in the way of righteousness." The little word if is a sup- 
 plement. The verse may be read without it. " The hoary 
 head is a crown of glory ; it shall be found in the way of 
 righteousness." Two things are implied: the conducive- 
 ness of righteousness to the attainment of old age, and its 
 conduciveness to the respectability and honour of old age. 
 The fwmer sentiment we have noticed, under other forms, 
 before: it expresses rather a natural tendency than any- 
 thing like an invariable fact.\ The latter is the same with 
 that expressed when the if is retained. 
 
 Eespect and honour, as due to age, are enjoined by the 
 Mosaic law : " Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and 
 honour the face of the old man, and fear thy God : I am 
 Jehovah/' Lev. xix. 32. As there is a respect dxie to office 
 independently of character, so is there to old age to gray 
 hairs. But as, in the former case, our very veneration for the 
 office makes us the more indignantly sensible of its desecration, 
 by the intrusion and occupancy of characters whose incongruity 
 with it is marked and notorious, so is it with our feelings as 
 to age. The more we venerate " the hoary head," the more are 
 we shocked by its association with meanness and vileness of 
 character, with impiety and vice. A wicked old man a* 
 man silvered with age who has come to the "threescore 
 years and ten," or even the " fourscore years," but on whom 
 
 * Comp. Psal. xxxvi. \ 4. f See chap. iii. 1, 2; ix. 10, 1 1.
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 2733. Ill 
 
 long and varied experience, warnings and entreaties, blessings 
 and corrections, kindness and severity, promises to allure and 
 threatenings to alarm, the smiles of a gracious and the frowns 
 of an angry God, the terrors of the law and the mercies of 
 the gospel, have all been equally thrown away; whose ad- 
 vancing years have only ripened him in profanity and sin, 
 - who has become only more and more "wise to do evil," 
 "but to do good" continues to have "no knowledge," and 
 who, while "even to hoar hairs" providential goodness has 
 spared him, has still " no fear of God before his eyes : " 
 shall I say of such a man he is a contemptible character? I 
 might say it with truth. "Shame and everlasting contempt" 
 are before him as his portion. Yet scorn is too light a feel- 
 ing for the case. He is a character on which we do not so 
 much look with contempt, as with loathing and with pity. 
 "We shrink back from the hoary profligate with a shudder. 
 Venerable in appearance, he is in reality odious. The aspect 
 and the character are at variance. We are struck with ad- 
 miration, when we only see what he looks: we are disap- 
 pointed and overwhelmed with horror, when we know what 
 he is. There is no glory ; nothing to admire. " The hoary 
 head" becomes a crown of shame. In proportion to the grace 
 and dignity, it may be, of the outward appearance, by which 
 our eye is captivated and our favour bespoke, is the emotion 
 of disgust, detestation, and grief, with which we hear the 
 disclosures of the character. It is the most affecting sight 
 on earth. We cannot smile; we can hardly scorn. We 
 abhor, and we compassionate abhor the character com- 
 passionate the man. 
 
 On the contrary " the crown of glory is found in the 
 way of righteousness." With what peculiar heartfelt de- 
 light do we regard the good old man, who during a long 
 pilgrimage has "walked with God;" whom length of days 
 has matured in wisdom and in all the lovely virtues of the 
 Christian character; who by the exercise of all the kindred 
 affections, and by the habitual practice of all that is " true, and 
 just, and pure, and honest, and lovely, and of good report," 
 under the dominant influence of the spring of all piety to-
 
 112 LECTURE XLIV. 
 
 God, has recommended himself to the reverence and 
 love of a grateful and admiring community, at the same 
 time that he has endeared himself to the entire circle of his 
 family and kindred ! how we cling to him ! how we es- 
 teem and honour him ! He has the complacent and affec- 
 tionate veneration of all the good; and in the consciences 
 of an ungodly world he has a testimony they cannot set aside, 
 They are constrained to approve and to admire; even while 
 their hearts retain their unhappy disinclination to imitate, 
 their infatuated attachment to the world and to sin. 
 
 Look at old Jacoh, the devout patriarch of " a hundred 
 and seven and thirty years," before the monarch of Egypt. 
 Look at Abraham bowing himself to the children of Heth, 
 while the hearts of all around him bowed in affectionate 
 veneration to himself! Look at the aged Simeon, with 
 the infant Redeemer in his arms ; with earth under his feet 
 and heaven in his eye ; and with the glory of God, and the 
 salvation of the world, Jew and Gentile, in his devout and 
 benevolent heart ! And look at others, many, both men and 
 women, in Old and Xew Testament times, to whom age has 
 been honour, " the hoary head, the crown of glory, being 
 found in the way of righteousness." 
 
 Ye aged pilgrims, mark this. Ye have been kept by the 
 grace of God to advanced years in the faith and holiness of 
 his people, beware of whatever would sully your " crown of 
 glory." See to it, that to the end you keep in " the way of 
 righteousness." It is when the life has been passed in that 
 way, and a consistent character has throughout been main- 
 tained, that the glory of this crown is the greatest. But even 
 to those who have spent a long lifetime without God, in the 
 ways of sin and the world, we have the full warrant of God's 
 word for saying, It is not yet too late. " While the lamp 
 holds on to burn, " the oldest as well as "the vilest sinner" 
 ay, though he be the oldest and the vilest in one " may 
 return." It is not too late for you even now, to cover your 
 hoar hairs with " the honour that cometh from God." God 
 will honour all, of whatever age and the saints of God will 
 honour them, and the angels of God will honour them, and
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 2733. 113 
 
 rejoice over them too, who turn unto Him, by Jesus Christ, 
 as penitent and believing suppliants for mercy, confessing 
 and forsaking their sins, and avowing and practising the de- 
 termination " no longer to live the rest of their time in the 
 nesh to the lusts of men, but to the will of God." 
 
 And let the young mark this. You wish to live to old 
 age ; and you wish, in old age, to have respect and honour. 
 Behold the way. follow those aged pilgrims who are now 
 wearing " the crown of glory." They have foun*d it in " the 
 way of righteousness;" and that way you must pursue, if 
 you would ever wear it. And the earlier you enter on it, and 
 the more steadfastly and consistently you keep it, the more 
 lovely and the more venerable will be your crown. Let all, 
 in youth, in manhood, or in age, remember the words of Jesus 
 " If any man serve me, let him follow me ; and where I 
 am, there shall also my servant be : if any man serve me, him 
 will my Father honour" John xii. 26. And then even if 
 men should " cast out your name as evil," blessed are ye ! 
 blessed now blessed for ever! The "crown of glory" shall 
 be yours, " that fadeth not away." 
 
 " The mighty" the conquering heroes and warriors of 
 successive ages, have ever stood high in honour and fame 
 amongst mankind. To such has been attached the appella- 
 tive surname of the great. They have been celebrated in 
 history and in song. Their names have become the watch- 
 words of excitement to deeds of valorous achievement, and 
 have been enrolled in the archives of a nation's glory. But 
 according to the wise man, speaking by the Spirit of God, 
 the best of all conquests is the conquest of one's self; and 
 self-command the most truly excellent and desirable of all 
 supremacy : " He that is slow to anger is better than the 
 mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a 
 city."* (v. 32.) In the first place, he accomplishes a more 
 difficult task. To indulge passion is easy; because it is na- 
 tural, all being, according to the tendencies of fallen nature, 
 prone to it. The poet expresses the sentiment and feeling 
 
 * Comp. chap. xiv. 28; xv. 18. 
 II. H
 
 114 % LECTURE XLIV. 
 
 of that nature, when he says "But oh! revenge is sweet!" 
 To follow, therefore, the bent and tendency of our nature, re- 
 quires no struggle, and, being common to all, involves no 
 distinction. But to keep the passions in check, to bridle 
 aud to deny them ; instead of letting loose our rage against 
 an enemy, to subdue him by kindness, " when he hungers 
 to feed him, when he thirsts to give him drink ; " this is 
 one of the severest efforts of virtuous or of gracious principle. 
 The most contemptible fool on earth may send a challenge, 
 and draw a trigger ; and, indeed, Ms readiness to do so Avill be 
 in proportion to his imbecility of mind, the littleness of 
 self-importance. It requires no great amount of brains to 
 quarrel and fight. But to lay passion under restraint, to 
 keep down the risings of pride, not to be " overcome of 
 evil, but to overcome evil with good," demands a vigour of 
 mind, and decision of character, far more difficult of acqui- 
 sition than the thoughtless courage that can stand the fire 
 of an adversary. Then further, he does a greatly better and 
 more useful thing. Universal self-government universal 
 command of temper, would surely make an incomparably 
 happier world, than universal pride, .universal resentment, 
 universal courage, and universal strength ! 
 
 How widely different the maxims prevalent in the world 
 and those sanctioned by the "Word of God ! According to 
 the latter he is the truly great man, not who destroys and 
 lays waste cities, and desolates kingdoms, and wades through 
 fields of bloody carnage to the utmost point of his ambitious 
 aspiring; but who succeeds in subjugating his passions; who, 
 by meekness and gentleness, diffuses peace and happiness 
 around him; who "loves his enemies, does good to them 
 that hate him, and prays for them who despitefully use him 
 and persecute him," thus imitating the universal Father, who 
 '' makes his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and 
 sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.' In reference 
 to one of the warriors, or wholesale murderers and robbers of 
 ancient days, who obtained the title of " THE GREAT," it has 
 been truly and happily said, " To subdue one's self is more
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 2733. 115 
 
 than to conquer the world; for he icho conquered the world 
 could not subdue himself." 
 
 Let us aim then at this mastery, the mastery of the 
 passions, the government of SELF; and, in order to its at- 
 tainment, keep in mind at once the need of divine grace, 
 and the sufficiency of it for every one ; the need of it, that 
 we may not fail through se(/-sufficiency, and the sufficiency 
 of it, that we may not find an apology in the strength of our 
 passions and the quickness and excitability of our natural 
 temperament, for our failing to gain the ascendency. There 
 are no passions so strong no temperaments so excitable, 
 as to be beyond the power of divine grace to overcome ; and 
 that grace is promised, in unqualified terms, and, therefore, 
 in every case, to the full extent in which, it can be re- 
 quired, to all who ask it. At the same time, let those of 
 more phlegmatic temperament, and less violent passions than 
 others, guard against two things, mistaking in themselves the 
 mere gentleness of constitutional temper for the operation of 
 God's Spirit; and being uncharitably severe on those whose 
 temperament may be the opposite of their own, and, instead 
 of having been restrained and subdued by early training, 
 may have been only further cherished in its touchiness and 
 fiery violence, by education and circumstances ; and who may 
 have actually overcome in themselves more than they have, 
 although much remains to be subdued. 
 
 Verse 33. "The lot is qast into the lap; but the whole 
 disposing thereof is of the Lord." 
 
 The lot is anything, whether drawn or cast, for the purpose 
 of determining any matter in question. The instances of its 
 use mentioned in Scripture are considerably various : 
 
 1. In finding out a guilty person when there was no di- 
 rect and satisfactory evidence : (1 Sam. xiv. 38 42; Jonah 
 i.7). 
 
 2. In dividing and apportioning land: (Num. xxvi. 52 
 56.) 
 
 3. In the choice of an official functionary: (Acts i. 26.) 
 
 4. In assigning departments of duty: (1 Chron. xxiv. -, 
 5 ; xxv. 8.)
 
 116 LECTURE XLIV. 
 
 5. In deciding controversies: (Prov. xviii. 18; Psal. xxii. 
 18. with John xix. 23, 24.) 
 
 There are no particular laws, either enjoining or prohibit- 
 ing the use of the lot ; specifying any occasions on which it 
 must or must not be employed. The direction to use it, 
 however, on certain special occasions, gave it a divine sanc- 
 tion. At the same time, from the fact of God's commanding 
 a particular mode of proceeding in a particular case, it would 
 be rather a presumptuous and hazardous thing for any one to 
 take upon him to determine in what other cases recourse may 
 be had to the same practice. Even such texts as the one be- 
 fore us, are capable of being interpreted without inferring a 
 certain divine approval of the frequent or ordinary appeal to 
 this mode of decision : inasmuch as, whether the " casting of 
 the lot into the lap" was of divine authority or not, it would 
 be equally true that " the disposing thereof was of the Lord." 
 It is very plain, that when it was had recourse to by Jews or 
 Christians, it involved an appeal to the omniscient God. 
 And one general principle regarding the employment of it 
 is sufficiently manifest, namely, that it should never be in- 
 troduced except in cases where reason and evidence are in- 
 competent to decide. And we may, I think, safely go so far as 
 to affirm, that in cases of importance and of extremity, that 
 is, where other means of arriving at a satisfactory conclusion 
 or a harmonious agreement have failed, there does not appear 
 to be anything in the Scriptures by which such an appeal 
 can be considered as interdicted. There does not appear to 
 be anything in it at all repugnant to the general character, 
 or to any of the principles or provisions of evangelical or 
 New Testament worship. Still, if there is nothing inter- 
 dictory of the use of it, there is nothing that makes it obli- 
 gatory in any specified circumstances ; and it is clear that, if 
 used at all, it should be seriously and sparingly. 
 
 It is very wrong, and the very reverse of truth, to speak 
 of any matter whatever as being in this way referred to 
 h'lrire. There is no such thing. Chance is nothing an 
 absolute non-entity. It is a mere term for expressing our 
 Every turn of the dice in the box is regulated
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 2733. 117 
 
 by certain physical laws; so that if we knew all the turns, 
 we would infallibly tell what number would cast up. And 
 so it is in every thing. Besides, in no case is there a more 
 thorough disavowal of chance than in the use of the lot. It 
 is the strongest and most direct recognition that can be made 
 of a particular providence, of the constant and minute 
 superintendence of an omniscient overruling Mind. While 
 it assumes our own ignorance, it equally assumes divine 
 knowledge. " The whole disposing" or determining, " of it it; 
 of the Lord:" or, as some understand it, "the entire judi- 
 cial decision by it is of the Lard." Whatever be the kind 
 of lot employed, all is under His control, who has every law 
 of nature, and every movement, whether of the hand or 
 mind of man, under perfect and unceasing control This is, 
 or ought to be, the acknowledgment of the parties in every 
 instance of recourse to this mode of settlement. 
 
 The section of the Christian community among Avhom the 
 use of the lot is most frequently resorted to is the Mora- 
 vians or United Brethren; among whom, indeed, the use of 
 it is held as one of their distinguishing principles. It is 
 employed in the selection of their bishops, according to the 
 example of the choice of an apostle in the room of Judas, in 
 the beginning of the Acts of the Apostles; as well as on 
 various other occasions. 
 
 By many pious persons the condemnation of all games 
 that pass under the designation of games of chance has been 
 rested on this text and others of the same description. I 
 cannot but think, injudiciously. It is pushing the applica- 
 tion of the principle of such texts to an extreme; and plac- 
 ing the objection to such games on a ground which, with 
 many, can never prove convincing or satisfactory. The ob- 
 jection should not, I humbly conceive, be rested solely or 
 chiefly on the consideration of these games being chance 
 games. I have already said that there is no such thing as 
 chance; and, when no such thing as an appeal to provi- 
 dence is at all thought of by the mind of the player, there 
 is no more of impiety in this case than in others without 
 number, where there is nothing bearing even the name of
 
 LECTURE XLIV. 
 
 1 lo 
 
 chance yet in which providence is not thought of. Ami 
 Hi is alleged that the lot has been rendered sacred by 
 
 use 
 
 se of it on sacred occasions, the objection does not seem 
 te force in it; inasmuch as it would lead to our drmk- 
 
 , no water, and to our relinquishing the use of bread and 
 of wine, because they too are all made use of in sacred insti- 
 tutions I cannot -help thinking that the objection against 
 ,uch games is more satisfactorily derived from their eml ten- 
 denL when indulged in, than from any mere abstract prin- 
 ciple such as the one just mentioned. They involve a temp- 
 tation to waste precious time; they tend to unsettle and un- 
 duly excite the mind; they are fitted to engender a liking 
 to gambling; they serve, in many cases, especially when 
 stakes are introduced, to foment the worst passions. Yet 
 even here discretion is required; for some of these evil ten-^ 
 -lencies attach equally to other pursuits which few think of 
 sweeping within a verdict of universal and unqualified con- 
 demnation. We may safely say that, in the amusements of 
 youth, the less of such games the better; and that in all 
 cases they require to be under very judicious regulation and 
 
 control. 
 
 In some instances, they have become, from particular as- 
 
 sociations, no matter how, marks of a worldly character. 
 
 In such cases, Christians will feel it their imperative duty to 
 
 shun them. They will be shunned too, in cases where the 
 
 introduction of them would give offence I do not say to 
 
 weak minds, because they are by no means all weak minds 
 
 that object to them but to scrupulous minds, that cannot 
 
 see things in the same light with ourselves. And in one 
 
 case more they ought to be shunned when from our at all, 
 
 however moderately, practising them, others are likely to 
 
 plead our example in excuse for themselves, in going a 
 
 length far beyond what we should regard as legitimate. 
 
 This is not seldom, the use made by worldly men of the 
 
 example of Christians ; and it should render Christians spe- 
 
 cially careful of the example they set. 
 
 Allow me to illustrate and confirm this last remark by an 
 instance. It is taken from the Life of the celebrated com-
 
 PROVERBS XVI. 2733. 119 
 
 mentator THOMAS SCOTT. Before the happy change in his 
 views of divine truth, he himself informs us, he was parti- 
 cularly fond of cards. And although afterwards he had lost 
 all his relish for them and other things of a like nature, he 
 adds : " I however occasionally joined in a game, from an 
 idea that too great preciseness might prejudice my neigh- 
 bours ; and I was then of opinion that there was no harm 
 in the practice, though it seemed a frivolous way of spending 
 time. I felt it also a very awkward transition to remove 
 the card table and introduce the Bible and family worship ; 
 though I never omitted this service at home, and commonly 
 performed it on my visits. My' fetters were, however, 
 broken effectually and at once, in the following manner. 
 Being on a visit to one of my parishioners, I walked out 
 after dinner, as was my common practice, to visit some of 
 my poor people, when one of them (the first person, so far 
 as I know, to whom my ministry had been decidedly useful) 
 said to me ' I have something which I wish to say to you ; 
 but I am afraid you may be offended.' ' I answered that I 
 could not promise, but I hoped I should not.' She then 
 said ' You know A. B. ; he has lately appeared attentive 
 to religion ; and has spoken to me concerning the sacrament : 
 but last night, he, with C. D. and some others, met to 
 keep Christmas; and they played at cards, drank too much, 
 and in the end quarrelled, and raised a sort of riot. And 
 when I remonstrated with him on his conduct, as inconsis- 
 tent with his professed attention to religion, his answer was 
 ' There is no harm in cards ; Mr. Scott plays at cards.' ' 
 This smote me to the heart. I saw that if I played at cards, 
 however soberly and quietly, the people would be encouraged 
 by my example to go further. That very evening," he adds, 
 " I related the whole matter to the company, -and declared 
 my fixed resolution, never to play at cards again. I ex- 
 pected that I should be harassed with solicitations ; but I 
 was never asked to play afterwards. Let me therefore from 
 my own experience, as well as from the reason of the case, 
 urge persons, from their first entrance upon a religious course, 
 when asked to do any tiling which they disapprove, fairly to
 
 120 LECTURE XLIV. 
 
 state their disapprobation as a point of conscience. For not 
 only is this most becoming those in whom there is no guile, 
 but it is also by for the most prudent proceeding."* 
 
 Lay to heart, brethren, this counsel, and, in like circum- 
 stances, follow the example of this " man of God." " Avoid 
 all appearance of evil," and give no advantage to the ene- 
 mies of the truth. Act boldly and faithfully for Christ, 
 whose you are, and whom you profess to serve, and you will 
 have an ample reward in peace of mind, and the approving 
 smile of your exalted Lord. 
 
 * In the Life of tlie same eminent Commentator, another instance 
 occurs of a similar kind: "When I first attended seriously to reli- 
 gion, I used sometimes, when I had a journey to perform on the next 
 day, to ride a stage in the evening, after the services of the Sabbath ; 
 and I trust my time on horseback was not spent unprofitably. But I 
 soon found that this furnished an excuse to some of my parishioners, 
 for employing a considerable part of the Lord's day in journeys of 
 business or convenience. I may scarcely add. that I immediately 
 abandoned the practice, on the same ground on which I resolved never 
 more to play at cards, even before I thought so unfavourably of them 
 as I now do."
 
 
 LECTURE XLY. 
 
 PROV. xvn. 1 7. 
 
 " Better is a dry morsel, and quietness therewith, than an house full of sacri- 
 fices with strife. A wise servant shall have rule over a son that causeth shame, 
 and shall have part of the inheritance among the brethren. The fining pot is 
 for silver, and the furnace for gold : but the Lord trieth the hearts. A wicked 
 doer giveth heed to false lips; and a liar giveth ear to a naughty tongue. Who- 
 so mocketh the poor reproacheth his Maker; and he that is glad at calamities 
 shall not be unpunished. Children's children are the crown of old men ; and 
 the glory of children are their fathers. Excellent speech becometh not a fool ; 
 much less do lying lips a prince." 
 
 THIS chapter, you perceive, commences with a proverb much 
 the same as others that have been already under our no- 
 tice : * " Better is a dry morsel, and quietness therewith, 
 than an house full of sacrifices with strife." The word 
 " sacrifices" has reference to the practice of feasting on the 
 flesh of the slain victims, when they were not holocausts 
 to be entirely consumed on the altar.t The preposition 
 " with" is supplementary. The words have been rendered 
 " sacrifices of strife ; " that is, such as, in the appropriation 
 and consumption of them, occasion contention and brawls. 
 On the margin the proper sense of the word, in such a con- 
 nexion, is evidently given "a house full of good cheer with 
 strife." I do not dwell now on the sentiment the supe- 
 riority of the feast of love the feast of souls, to the banquet 
 of royal dainties, where there is no heart. But let all feel 
 its truth. Let the poor especially feel it, when called to par- 
 
 * See chap. xv. 16, 17. f Compare 1 Sam. ix. 12, 13, 2224.
 
 122 LECTURE XLV. 
 
 take of their frugal and necessarily stinted nieals. If they 
 sit down to these in the smiling cordiality of domestic love, 
 and with the supplicated blessing of Him who "feeds the 
 ravens" and "clothes the lilies of the field," they are hap- 
 pier far than those 'whose houses are full of good cheer; 
 but full, along with it, of the bitterness of contention. Love 
 sweetens the stinted portion ; hatred embitters the full one. 
 
 Verse 2. " A wise servant shall have rule over a son that 
 causeth shame, and shall have part of the inheritance among 
 the brethren." The general maxim here is, that wisdom 
 true godly discretion the exercise of genuine principle in 
 steady fidelity, prudence, diligence, and general propriety of 
 conduct, tends to advancement to elevate to higher sta- 
 tion, and to secure approbation and reward. A servant 
 whose character has been long tried and proved, will be 
 highly respected and valued, and will obtain the most im- 
 portant trusts. Even the care of a refractory and wayward 
 child may be committed to such a domestic, as one in whose 
 fidelity and prudence the most entire confidence can be re- 
 posed. Or the phrase, "shall Jiave rule over the son who 
 causeth shame" may only signify his becoming the superior 
 of such a son and heir, in the amount of his influence and 
 weight in all domestic arrangements. Such a servant is a 
 treasure in the family to which he or she belongs. And in 
 many instances, with great propriety, have such servants 
 found a place among the legatees of their masters; obtain- 
 ing, as their reward, and their testimonial of grateful appro- 
 bation, a portion of the family patrimony. This was the 
 case of old, in a special manner, with servants who had been 
 born and brought up in the family, or on the estate, and had 
 worn out the vigour of their youth and' manhood in the 
 faithful service of the one or of the other. Such a servant 
 to the patriarch Abraham was Eliezer of Damascus. 
 
 Let me say, then, to servants, that there is hardly any 
 other class in society who have more in their power, in either 
 promoting or preventing domestic ' comfort and happiness. 
 By faithfulness, industry, good temper, and respectful de- 
 meanour, by putting your hearts into the interests of the
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 17. 123 
 
 household with which providence has associated you, and 
 identifying yourselves with its well-heing, you effect the 
 former; you make yourselves happy, and you contribute no 
 unimportant share to the happiness of all around you. It is 
 thus too that you render both your station and yourselves 
 respectable and honourable. It is the man that adorns the 
 station; not the station the man. The very highest station 
 can never secure respect to the occupant who acts unworthily 
 of it, who disgraces it. On the contrary, the very contrast 
 between the station and the character will serve to deepen 
 the dark shades of the latter, and aggravate both private and 
 public disrepute. The dutiful servant is incomparably the 
 more honourable and entitled to respect when set in compar- 
 ison with the mean, the unjust, or the profligate master. 
 No station will detract from you, if you adorn the station. 
 And then while you gain and fix affectionate and grateful 
 regard, and secure from every generous master and mistress 
 an earthly recompense; if you act under the influence of 
 gospel principles, and, in serving your earthly masters, "serve 
 the Lord Christ," you will enjoy the smile of divine approval, 
 and, in the end, obtain "the reward of the inheritance."* 
 
 Verse 3. " The fining pot is for silver, and the furnace for 
 gold : but the Lord trieth the hearts." There are two things 
 effected on the silver and the gold when subjected to the 
 process of the fining-pot, or crucible, and the furnace. These 
 are trial and purification; the first with a view to the sec- 
 ond. Trial detects the proportion of extraneous matter in 
 the ore, or of alloy in the metal; and the process which 
 detects, at the same time, and as the designed result, sepa- 
 rates the extraneous matter, or the alloy, and by separation, 
 purifies, and so renders the remainder the more precious. 
 
 " But the Lord trieth the hearts." It is obvious that a 
 comparison is intended: "As the fining-pot is for silver, and 
 the furnace for gold ; so the Lord trieth the hearts." Try- 
 ing is more than simply discerning. The Lord does not 
 need to try, in order to make any discovery for himself. He 
 
 * See Col. iii. 2224.
 
 12 4 LECTURE XLV. 
 
 " knoweth what is in man." But He "tries," in order to bring 
 to light what may lie concealed from men, and especially 
 from the individual himself. And this He does in order to 
 the person's conviction and benefit, and that He may be 
 vindicated in his final judgments. 
 
 He "tries," in different respects, both " the wicked and the 
 righteous." By the dispensations of his providence, He often 
 elicits the latent evils that are in the hearts of the ungodly 
 and the worldly. He brings out their hidden abominations. 
 He manifests the deceitfulness, the hypocrisy, the " desperate 
 wickedness," of their "inward parts," their rebellious and un- 
 subdued dispositions. He exposes the simulation of dissem- 
 blers ; and of those whose religion only seems to thrive when 
 their profession of it brings no suffering and demands no 
 sacrifice. How many has God thus tried and exhibited in 
 their true characters ! how many has He thus " weighed in 
 the balances, and found wanting ! " In the same manner too 
 does God try, and bring out to view the inward graces and 
 virtues of his children. And, while disclosing, He refines and 
 purifies them, He detects and removes the alloy the dross 
 and tin of self and the world; separating "the vile" from "the 
 precious," and so rendering the precious the more excellent ; 
 purging away the earthly from the heavenly, and bringing the 
 heavenly out of the furnace more spiritual and divine.* 
 
 Let the Lord's people, then, in every season of affliction, seek 
 above all things its refining virtue. Seek that, when " tried" 
 you may "come forth as gold." how sad to suffer, and 
 not to profit ! Pray that the gracious end of your heavenly 
 Father may be answered in you; that you may be made 
 more like himself, more "holy as he is holy," more meet 
 for heaven, while sojourning on earth : that so you may not 
 bear the heat of the furnace without acquiring the purity 
 which the heat is meant to impart. 
 
 Verse 4. " A wicked doer giveth heed to false lips ; and 
 a liar giveth ear to a naughty tongue." These words are 
 capable of two meanings. They may mean, first, that the 
 
 * See Mai. Hi. 3, 4: Zecli. xiii. 9: Isa. xxvii. 9: 1 Pet. i. 7.
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 17. 125 
 
 man is wicked who lends his ear to calumny and slander; 
 who takes up, with easy and malicious credit, all injurious 
 reports : and that he is deceitful and not to be trusted, who 
 listens to and encourages the tongue of detraction and envy 
 and inventive malignity ,-^-gathering up evil, and making 
 what he can of it for the stirring up of mischief. Or rather, 
 secondly, that the wiclced and untruthful are prone to give 
 heed to flattery of themselves, and calumny against others. 
 The more ill they can hear of others, the better. They are 
 supported and comforted by the knowledge that their neigh- 
 bours are as bad as themselves or worse. They delight in 
 "false lips" and in a "naughty tongue." They keep them in 
 countenance. They furnish them with the means of evil, on 
 wliich they can proceed in their own tale of falsehood and 
 scandal grafting one lie upon another, and forging all man- 
 ner of calumnies. It is their highest gratification to get a 
 good story, which they can turn to accmint in their own 
 way. "A wicked doer," too, "giveth heed to false lips;" 
 because they are lips of which he can avail himself in time 
 of exigency for his own safety. "A liar" is of essential 
 use to the evil-doer. He can suborn him. He can get him 
 to bear witness in his favour to perjure himself to get him 
 off, when in danger of being convicted. 
 
 Such characters too, it may be noticed, are fond of the lies 
 of false teachers. They keep their ear greedily open to these. 
 They are soothed and flattered and encouraged by them in 
 their evil courses. They cannot but Like the doctrine that 
 allays their fears; that palliates sin; that makes light of 
 future punishment; that tells them of a G-od all mercy; 
 that assures them of ultimate universal salvation. Thus it 
 was of old ; and thus it is still* 
 
 let thoughtless sinners beware of this wretched delu- 
 sion! Lies may serve a present purpose; they may keep 
 the mind easy for the time :- but their detection must come ; 
 and then the emphatic application of the prophet's question 
 " What will ye do in the end thereof 1 " It is strange 
 
 * See for example Isa. xxx. 9 11 : Jer. v. 31.
 
 ]26 LECTURE XLV. 
 
 how men should wish to be deceived; should be satisfied if 
 they can but keep themselves in present quietness, though 
 at the risk, or with the certainty, of everlasting disappoint- 
 ment, regret, and anguish. 
 
 Be assured, my friends, they 'are not your enemies who 
 " tell you the truth." The truth may agitate for the time 
 may give present pain; but it is salutary; it tends to ever- 
 lasting benefit. They are not your enemies who warn you 
 that "the wages of sin is death;" when they add with the 
 same breath, that " the gift of God is eternal life through 
 Jesus Christ our Lord." They are not your enemies who 
 sound in your ears the terrors of a broken law, when they 
 sound along with them the gracious promises of a divinely 
 accredited gospel They are not your enemies who tell you 
 of the "wrath of God revealed from heaven against all un- 
 righteousness and ungodliness of men," when they tell you, at 
 the same time, of *e love of God revealed to " the chief of 
 sinners" in the cross; of God's delighting in mercy; of 
 "God in Christ reconciling the world unto himself, not im- 
 puting their trespasses unto them." 
 
 Verse 5. "Whoso mocketh the poor reproacheth his 
 Maker; and he that is glad at calamities shall not be un- 
 punished." TJie poor are of two descriptions the industri- 
 ous and virtuous; the idle and profligate; the one, poor, 
 not by their own misconduct, but in consequence of cir- 
 cumstances over which they could exercise no control ; the 
 other, poor through indolence and vice. Mockery is not the 
 sentiment for either. We do, indeed, regard the one and 
 the other with feelings widely dissimilar. In the' one case 
 we approve, in the other we condemn ; on the one we smile 
 with complacency ; on the other we frown with indignation ; 
 to the one we cheerfully stretch the hand of our bounty ; 
 from the other we hold it back, through a hesitating sense of 
 duty, lest our beneficence should be abused, and bad made 
 worse. We may see it right to allow them to feel the effects 
 of their folly and sin, in order to their future -good. 
 
 The words before us have manifestly reference to the for- 
 mer to those whom divine providence has placed in pover-
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 17. 127 
 
 ty and prevented from rising, or has been pleased, by what we 
 are accustomed to call misfortunes, to reduce to poverty from 
 a better condition. To "mock'" at such is to "reproach their 
 Maker." That Maker has assigned them their lot, and to 
 mock them is to mock Him, to mock the wisdom and the 
 kindness of his administration. He who is the Maker of 
 the poor is the Maker of the rich, the Maker and Ruler of 
 the mocker as well as of the object of his scorn. It is a sad 
 thing when one "potsherd of the earth," because it happens to 
 have got from the hand of the potter a little gilding and 
 superficial decoration, mocks at another "potsherd of the earth" 
 which chances to be somewhat more homely in its outward" 
 appearance, or perhaps formed of a little coarser material, 
 than the other; both the work of the same hands, and both 
 alike frail, brittle, and perishable. 
 
 It is one of the features of the divine greatness to re- 
 gard the poor; and one of the features" of human littleness 
 to despise them. what are all the distinctions of earthly 
 condition in His eyes, who is "the high and lofty One that 
 inhabiteth eternity!" That "high and lofty One" regards 
 the man of low degree who " treinbleth at Ms word," while 
 the proud scorner of the poor he " knoweth afar oif." Vast 
 is the multitude of poor amongst us at this moment. let 
 there be anything but "mockery" anything but making 
 light of their lamentable privations and sufferings! May 
 God keep all, whether in private or public station, from 
 thus reproaching their Maker, and provoking his wrath ! * 
 
 Verse 6. "Children's children are the crown of old men; 
 and the glory of children are their fathers." "We have had 
 one crown of old age before.t Here we have another. A 
 numerous progeny was, among the Hebrews, an object of 
 high estimation and earnest desire. In the Scriptures, Ave 
 find the number of a man's children frequently specified : 
 and at times it is represented as a token of divine faA'our 
 and blessing. J As an example of one who enjoyed this crown, 
 look at Joseph. "When we read the narrative of him, as 
 
 * See on chap', xiv. 20, 21, 31. f Chap. xvi. 31. 
 
 | See Psalm cxxviii. 6. g See Gen. 1. 23.
 
 128 LECTURE XLV. 
 
 the envied and persecuted stripling of seventeen, -we feel 
 towards him a warm and sympathising affection. But when 
 we have followed him through all the intensely interesting 
 steps of his history, and come to the touching close, we 
 feel our affection for Joseph the youth, rise and ripen into 
 veneration for Joseph the aged the hoary patriarch in the 
 midst of Ms descendants of four generations. All these look 
 up to him, with deep reverential love, and honour him for 
 his years, his character, and his paternal authority. They 
 thus invest him with a respectability and dignity which, as a 
 solitary individual, he could not have possessed. 
 
 But this is not all that is intended. The meaning and 
 truth of the saying depend greatly on the character of the 
 children. It expresses what they ought to be. 
 
 This, then, implies the duty of parents, on the one hand, 
 so to attend diligently, affectionately, prayerfully, persever- 
 ing] y, and with all the accompanying power of consistent 
 example to the education of their children, or, it may be, 
 of their children's children, as that they may be an honour 
 to them, and a comfort and support to their advancing and 
 declining years to the evening of their life's long day. 
 And it implies, on the other, the duty of children to be an 
 honour to their fathers and grandfathers ; to lay to heart the 
 influence which their behaviour cannot fail to have on the 
 respectability, the character, the happiness of their parents. 
 
 Yes, my young friends ; you may be their honour, or you 
 may be their disgrace. Which would you wish to be? If 
 you are not " without natural affection," I need not answer 
 the question. For your fathers' and mothers' sakes, then, 
 and to some of you I may say, for your grandfathers' and 
 grandmothers' sakes, as well as for your own, let me urge 
 you to goodness to the adoption and cultivation of right 
 principles, and especially of the principles of true godliness. 
 O remember, that by one course of behaviour you Avill weave 
 a garland of honour for the aged brows of those you love ; 
 by another, you will encircle those brows with a crown of 
 thorns, ay, and, it may be, "bring down their gray hair.s 
 with sorrow to the grave."
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 17. 129 
 
 What an honour was young Timothy, who " from a child 
 knew the holy Scriptures," to " his grandmother Lois and his 
 mother Eunice ! " And what a stain upon his reputation a 
 sword in his bones a weight of oppressive sadness on the 
 spirit of his old age, were the profligate sons of Eli ! and 
 Eli, let parents remember, was himself to blame ; for " his 
 sous made themselves vile, and he restrained them not." 
 
 "And the glory of children are their fathers:" that is, 
 I need hardly say, when their fathers are what they ought to 
 be; when by character they have earned for themselves 
 general affection, esteem, reverence, and honour. When this 
 is the case, these feelings naturally attach themselves to 
 their descendants. And when ^children follow their exam- 
 ple and conduct themselves aright, this serves to double their 
 honour. " The sons are honoured in the honoured sires." 
 
 Alas! it is not always the case, that fathers are, as 
 they ought to be, "the glory of their children." Too fre- 
 quently are they the reverse. Their children and grandchil- 
 dren have to struggle into life against all the disadvantage 
 arising from the disreputable characters of their sires. Let 
 parents bethink themselves of this. They do not stand alone 
 in the effects of their evil ways. Whatever disgrace they 
 incur becomes a drag upon their children's advancement. 
 The child that comes of so disreputable a stock, is unavoid- 
 ably regarded with a suspicious and uneasy jealousy. There 
 is a fear to trust him ; a fear that he may inherit his father's 
 principles, and follow his father's example. The effects of 
 the father's infamy thus descend to him; and if ever he 
 rises above it, and by his virtuous, honourable, and pious 
 behaviour, commands our confidence and esteem, our admira- 
 tion, respect, and love no thanks to that father; he owes 
 no part of it to him. It is self -acquired ; or rather, let us 
 say, he is indebted for it to the superintending providence 
 and distinguishing mercy of Heaven; and he will be dis- 
 posed, humbly and thankfully to say- 1 -" By the grace of 
 God, I am what I am ! " 
 
 Verse 7. "Excellent speech becometh not a fool; much 
 less do lying lips a prince." The plain sentiment of the 
 
 IT. I
 
 13 o LECTURE XLV. 
 
 first clause is, that the language of wisdom and piety is un- 
 suitable to the hjps of a foolish, unprincipled man : 
 
 1. There is, what first and immediately strikes us, incon- 
 gruity. To use the comparison of Solomon on another sub- 
 ject, it is "like a jewel of gold in a swine's snout." We 
 wonder where the man can have got what he utters. We 
 are quite sure it is not his own. He gets no credit for it. 
 The surprise we feel in hearing it, only awakens our atten- 
 tion the more to his folly and wickedness. The latter are 
 the more strongly and loathingly impressed by the power of 
 contrast. There is superadded to former impressions of his 
 characte/, the further one of hypocrisy ; and the suspicion of 
 a mask assumed for some seifish end. 
 
 2. There is a total want of force, or weight, in such say- 
 ings from such lips. You all know and feel the native 
 power of name and character. The sayings of one whose 
 reputation is justly high for wisdom and goodness, are in 
 danger at times of being received even too hastily. What- 
 ever bears the "image and superscription" of such a man, 
 we are ready to accept without testing or looking at it, as 
 mint coin. On the contrary, and from the converse influ- 
 ence of the same principle, we suspect the sayings of the 
 foolish. We shake our heads and say, We must think again, 
 before we pxit our seal of acceptance on anything that comes 
 from such a quarter. We must examine it; we must test 
 it, especially before we venture to act upon it. The say- 
 ings sound well; they seem good; but they are so very un- 
 like the man, we fear there must be more surface than solidity. 
 
 3. Hence arises want of influence. When a fool utters a 
 wise, or a wicked man a good, advice, he to whom it is given 
 thinks himself, by the very circumstance of its coming from 
 such a person, at liberty to disregard it. The advice hav- 
 ing no worth of character to support and recommend it, 
 goes for nothing, falls lifeless and pithless to' the ground, 
 
 It well becomes 'the public teachers of religion to lay these 
 thoughts to heart. More "excellent speech" cannot be ut- 
 tered than the doctrines and precepts, the counsels and 
 warnings, of the word of God. But if the character of him
 
 PROVEKBS XVII. 17. 131 
 
 who utters them is notoriously at variance with his instruc- 
 tions, the incongruity shocks, disgusts, and revolts the 
 hearer. It draws tears from the pious, and mockery from 
 the profane. The latter feel the admonitions pointless. 
 Good they may be ; but they are blunted by the character of 
 the speaker. They scoff, and exchange the sly wink with 
 each other; or they are provoked at the thought of their 
 being schooled by such a man ! and, with the one feeling or 
 the other, they leave the sanctuary, whispering or exclaiming 
 with a careless shrug "Physician, heal thyself." 
 
 "Much less do lying lips a prince." In such a case the 
 incongruity, the indecency, the outrage on all consistency 
 and propriety, is most flagrant. The prince ought to be 
 the guardian of truth and honesty, of righteousness, and 
 virtue, in the community. He. who is officially their guar- 
 dian, ought personally to be their example. The example is 
 valuable; and so is the infusion of such principle into the 
 administration of the government. There is nothing of more 
 consequence for inspiring the community with confidence 
 and so maintaining satisfaction and peace, than that rulers 
 should keep their word to the people, redeeming every pledge, 
 fulfilling every authorised and legitimate expectation. " Ly- 
 ing lips" may serve a present purpose, and suspend for the 
 time a threatening evil, but they will inevitably wouk mis- 
 chief, and aggravate the dreaded calamity in the end. Simu- 
 lation is bad in private life; worse in public; and worst of 
 all in stations of high authority, example, and influence.* 
 
 I close with two reflections: 
 
 1. Let none mistake the nature of the connexion between, 
 parents and children, so as to imagine that the grace and 
 the godliness of the one will avail and be accepted for the 
 other. Every individual, old and young, must stand before 
 God for himself. Godly parents and godly forefathers will 
 not, in the great day, profit ungodly children, or be any pro- 
 tection to them from the avenging justice of God : on the 
 contrary, their godly ancestry will come in among the aggra- 
 
 * For furtlmv illustration, see chap. xvi. 10 13.
 
 13 2 LECTURE XLV. 
 
 rations of their guilt and condemnation. They can have no 
 share in their glory, since they have not "followed their 
 faith," and traced the path to heaven in the footsteps of their 
 holy example. Religion is a personal thing. There is no 
 having it by proxy. Eli's sons were not accepted for Eli's 
 sake. Let parents heware, and let children beware. If they 
 would meet in heaven, and be each other's "joy and crown" 
 in the final day, let parents seek by all divine means, to 
 have their children for their spiritual as well as their natural 
 offspring ; and let children receive the instructions, and emu- 
 late the Christian excellences of their godly parents. Then 
 shall parents and children be the glory of each other, and 
 Christ the glory of both. 
 
 2. Spiritual children are the glory of aged ministers and 
 fathers in the Christian church the house of God : and 
 when these are useful in their turn in bringing others to 
 God, those of whose conversion they are the instruments, are 
 children's children. So Paul and so John regarded their 
 converts. It is not wrong surely for Christ's ministers to 
 covet the honour of such a spiritual family, who may be to 
 them their "joy and crown" in the day of the Lord. Alas ! 
 that after even a long lifetime of labour, the number of such 
 should often be so small ! It gives reason for " great search- 
 ings of heart," whether, and how far, the cause may be found 
 in deficiency of faithfulness, and earnestness, and prayer. I 
 would humbly thank my God for the number of the mem- 
 bers of this church to whom He has been graciously pleased 
 to render the ministry of his gospel within these walls the 
 means of saving benefit. And I would say to the congrega- 
 tion at large I long for your salvation, and pray God, "that 
 I may have some fruit among you also ! " We must stand 
 together at " the judgment-seat of Christ." that I may 
 then be found to have delivered my own soul by faithfulness 
 to yours ; and that you may be found so to have profited 
 by your privileges and opportunities, as that you may give 
 your account with joy; so that minister and people may re- 
 joice together ! 
 
 "BRETHBEX PRAY FOR us!"
 
 
 LECTUKE XLVI. 
 
 PKOV. xvn. 8 15. 
 
 " A gift is as a precious stone in the eyes of him that hath it; whithersoever 
 it turneth, it prospereth. He that covereth a transgression seeketh love: but 
 he that repeateth a matter separateth very friends. A reproof entereth more 
 into a wise man than an hundred stripes into a fool. An evil man seeketh 
 only rebellion : therefore a cruel messenger shall be sent against him. Let a 
 bear robbed of her whelps meet a man, rather than a fool in his folly. Whoso 
 rewardeth evil for good, evil shall not depart from his house. The beginning 
 of strife is as when one letteth out water: therefore leave off contention, before 
 it be meddled with. He that justifieth the wicked, and he that condemneth 
 the just, even they both are abomination to the Ix>rd." 
 
 Two views may be taken of the first of these verses. It 
 may refer to the person who receives the gift, or to the per- 
 son who has it to bestotc. 
 
 1. In the former view of the words, they may be ex- 
 plained in this way : A gift is a mark of regard, of appro- 
 bation, of confidence, of honour. It gives the recipient of 
 it credit and consequence. It thus contributes to obtain for 
 him. further favour. Wherever it comes to be known, it 
 operates for his benefit. A modest man will not be disposed 
 to puff it off; but in proportion as he rather conceals it, or 
 says nothing of it, the more effectually does it tell in his be- 
 half when it is known. And this will be still' more the 
 case, if the gift has been bestowed by a person of eminence, 
 high in station, or high in character and in public esteem. 
 The man also of a different disposition, the artful, insinuating, 
 self-sufficient man may, in a variety of ways, turn a gift to 
 good account, so that it shall tell for his advantage. He
 
 134 LECTURE XLVI. 
 
 knows where the character and the influence of the giver 
 are highest ; and there he makes the most of it. " Whither- 
 soever it turneth, it prospereth." 
 
 2. Viewed in the other light, (which is the more likely 
 sense of the words) as referring to the person who confers the 
 gift, or has it to bestow, we may notice first, that the ref- 
 erence may be to the man who is known to have something 
 to bestow -which all covet. In this case, every one desires his 
 favour, strives to oblige him, tries every means of insin- 
 uation into his good graces. A man who has any skill in 
 maneuvering may, in this way, render what he has to confer 
 a capital instrument for pushing forward his own prosperity ; 
 keeping all in expectation, cherishing hope, making his 
 desired and coveted gift look first one way, then another, 
 then a third ; perhaps partially bestowing, and still reserving 
 enough to hold expectants hanging on, so as to have them 
 available for his own ends. Secondly: On the part of those 
 who have gifts to bestow, uses may be made of them that 
 are honourable and prudent, quite consistent, not with mere 
 self-interest, but with right principle. They may be employed 
 to avert threatened evil, and for the more sure attainment 
 of desired good. Such was Jacob's gift to his brother Esaxi ; 
 when, in setting it apart, he said, " I will appease him with 
 the present that goeth before me, and afterward will I see 
 his face." Such was the gift of the same patriarch, at a 
 later period, to " the man the lord of the country," when he 
 sent his sons the second time to Joseph in Egypt. Thirdly: 
 The verse is generally, and probably with justice, under- 
 stood of gifts that have the character and the object of bribes, 
 the idea being that "a gift" is as tempting, as irresistible as a 
 precious jewel ; that the man who has it and is disposed to 
 give it, can seldom be at a loss to find another equally will- 
 ing to receive it ; that such is its power that it "prevails over 
 all men, dispatches all business, carries all causes, and effects 
 whatever a man desires." (Bp. Patrick.) Alas ! for human 
 nature, if this account of it be true. And, although there 
 are not a few honourable exceptions from the inculpation, 
 yet wonderful it is to what an extent a gift, sufficiently
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 815. 135 
 
 tempting, and artfully managed, may be made to accomplish 
 all that is thus ascribed to it; how many evasions and plau- 
 sibilities men discover to satisfy their consciences, or rather 
 to hoodwink and blind them, in accepting what no consider- 
 ation can reconcile with common honesty. To what a fear- 
 ful extent have these observations been verified in the system 
 of parliamentary electioneering, and in all the varieties of 
 public jobbing ! no matter whether by whig or tory. It is 
 no business of mine to balance accounts between them. In 
 either the one or the other, the practice is equally odious, and 
 ought to be branded with public execration.* 
 
 Verse 9. " He that covereth a transgression seeketh love : 
 but he that repeateth a matter separateth very friends." We 
 have, in this verse, a new aspect of a sentiment formerly 
 under notice.t The verse before us may be applied to offen- 
 ces committed against ourselves, or to those committed against 
 others. 
 
 As to the former : we should be slow to take offence. We 
 should throw the veil of concealment, in the spirit of the 
 love which the verse before us inculcates, over everything 
 that can be passed by without violating the precept of " not 
 suffering sin upon our brother." Then, further, when, in 
 consequence of our dealing, the wrong has been confessed, 
 and forgiveness for it extended, it must be buried; there 
 must be no "repeating" of it to others, no recalling of it 
 to mind and to notice on future occasions. This is extreme- 
 ly hurting to the feelings of the offender, when he has con i 
 fessed and been forgiven; and is the sure way to renew the 
 breach, and to make it wider and more hopeless than ever. 
 If we are to confirm attachment and give permanence to re- 
 conciliation, we must be silent as the grave as to the past. 
 
 With regard to trespasses against others: there are many 
 
 * " A bribe, if accepted, will influence in many ways, even without 
 a consciousness of its power, on tlie part of the receiver. Turn he 
 which way he will, the influence of it will follow him.'" So Stuurt, but 
 the language seems hardly susceptible of such an interpretation, how- 
 ever true the sentiment. 
 
 f Chap. x. 12: xvi. 28.
 
 136 LECTURE XLVI. 
 
 little things which we may come to know of, as having been 
 said or done by one Mend respecting another, said or done, 
 perhaps, without any evil intention whatever, yet of such a 
 nature, that, if told to the person, are fitted to produce in his 
 mind an unpleasant impression. The very repetition of them 
 invests them with an importance that does not belong to 
 them. It makes him to whom they are reported, think much 
 more of them than he would have done, had he heard or 
 seen them himself. These, then, charity and discretion alike 
 demand that we hide in our bosoms. 
 
 Then with regard to cases of serious importance, observe 
 
 First: If we alone are privy to the fact, our first busi- 
 ness is with the offender; just as much as if the trespass 
 had been one against ourselves. We should represent his 
 conduct to him in love the inconsistency of it with the 
 claims of friendship and try to bring him to a sense of his 
 error. If we succeed in effecting this, let not the friend 
 against whom the evil has been said or done, but who is in 
 entire ignorance of it, be ever informed of the matter at all 
 Let it be as though it had not been ; except as to the offen- 
 der's disabusing the minds of others on whom he may have 
 made a similar impression. 
 
 Secondly: If it be a case in which the aggrieved party 
 must be informed; the information must be imparted with 
 a faithfully, and carefully minute adherence to truth; without 
 exaggeration; without irritating representations; in the evi- 
 dent spirit of sincere regret and love. When we succeed 
 in making up the breach, which, in every case, ought to be 
 our great end, then the same rule as before must be fol- 
 lov,-ed; we must never "repeat" the matter, either to the 
 one or to the other of the parties, or to any neutral persons. 
 That might only tear open the recent wounds, make them 
 bleed afresh, and perhaps fester into incurable sores. 
 
 Thirdly: Let another lesson be remembered, which we 
 are exceedingly apt to forget; namely, that all unnecessary 
 repetition even of real faults comes under the category of 
 scandal, and is sinful and mischievous. You may fancy 
 you are within the limit of blanieworthiness, when you are
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 8 15. 137 
 
 telling no more than what is true: but, if you are telling 
 even truth needlessly, for no good and laudable end, you are 
 chargeable with the offence. Some people have a strange 
 delight in repeating grievances. They are ever coming out 
 with " "What do you think such a person did ? " and, 
 " What do you think such another person said ? " They 
 gather up every idle rumour catching it from the passing 
 wind; giving to every evil report an additional pair of 
 wings. Sometimes they pretend to be very confidential. 
 What they have heard they tell to you alone, " and remem- 
 ber," say they, (putting their finger significantly on their 
 lips,) "it is a profound secret." Generally, however, such 
 persons will be found selecting for their confidants those 
 whom they well know to be incapable of keeping a secret 
 to themselves. And thus it finds its way at last to the 
 quarter where the mischief was intended : the schemer of 
 it, all the while, wearing the mask of friendship all kind- 
 ness, all regret, all sympathy. 
 
 O these "tattlers and busy-bodies, speaking things which 
 they ought not ! " they are the very pests and vermin of 
 social life, as despicable as they are annoying and noxious. 
 
 Verse 10. "A reproof entereth more into a wise man 
 than an hundred stripes into a fool." 
 
 The "wise man" understands aright his own interest. The 
 knowledge of truth and of duty is the object of his sincere 
 and earnest desire. He is thankful to be freed from his 
 own errors, instead of being doggedly tenacious of them, 
 when he can obtain truth instead; and readily relinquishes 
 whatever practices he has been accustomed to follow, when 
 made to discern their inconsistency with the claims either 
 of God or man. The "fool" clings pertinaciously to whatever 
 is his own his own thoughts, his own projects, his own 
 ways, simply because they are his own. He possesses nei- 
 ther a genuine love of truth, nor a candid and humble soli- 
 citude to know and to do what is right. 
 
 Now " a reproof" or even the simple intimation of his 
 fault unaccompanied by any direct rebuke, a mere iook of 
 disapprobation "entereth more" into the former "than an
 
 138 LECTURE XLVI. 
 
 hundred stripes" into the latter. -It affects him, that is, 
 more deeply, with conviction, compunction, shame and sor- 
 row; and produces more of practical effect in the way of 
 "confessing and forsaking."* Even taking wisdom in its 
 lower sense, as relating to a man's discreet understanding of 
 his temporal advantage, he who possesses it will keep his ear 
 and mind open to intimations of error and danger, even 
 though conveyed in the form of sharp reflection on his own 
 prudence, rather than ruin himself by a headstrong and self- 
 willed opinionativeness. 
 
 The spirit of the verse may be applied to the influence of 
 the word of God and the providence of God. A simple noti- 
 fication of evil, coming from the word of God, will " enter 
 more into the wise man," who "trembleth at that word-," 
 than a hundred of the sharpest strokes of His providential 
 rod will into the ungodly and the froward. The latter, in- 
 deed, without divine grace accompanying the strokes, will 
 be provoked by them, rather than subdued. And even 
 amongst the children of God themselves, there are great di- 
 versities of temper; some requiring harder dealing than 
 others to bring them down, and to reclaim them from their 
 follies : as is the case often with children in the same family. 
 A word, or a look, will go with melting and heart-breaking 
 power to the very soul of one; while the severest correc- 
 tion, and oft-repeated, will fail to bring down the stubborn 
 and fractious spirit of another. for more of the spirit of 
 Job, and less of the spirit of Jonah ! for more of that truly 
 child-like disposition, which gives way before every divine 
 admonition, which melts into penitence under the eye of an 
 offended God, and looks up with a child's submission at the 
 slightest touch of his corrective rod ! 
 
 Verse 11. "An evil man seeketh only rebellion: there- 
 fore a cruel messenger shall be sent against him." 
 
 This rendering accords with that of the Septuagint. By 
 others it is inverted : " A rebellious man seeketh only evil, 
 or mischief:" and others still understand the verse as 
 
 
 * Comp. chap. ix. 7 9.
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 8-15. 139 
 
 meaning "A seditious man shall surely fall into mischief." 
 In the general effect, different renderings bring out much the 
 same sentiment. The character appears to be one which, in 
 the experience of Solomon, as well as of other princes, had 
 often occasioned great trouble ; that namely, of an unprin- 
 cipled, discontented, intractable, indomitable spirit ever 
 seeking to disturb the public peace, to stir up and foment 
 broils and insurrectionary tumults ; whose element is strife ; 
 who loves it for its own sake ; and who seeks by it, not the 
 ultimate attainment of the public good, but the adoption of 
 some empirical nostrum of his own political quackery ; who 
 is reckless of consequences, regardless of the sufferings of all 
 who stand in his way. " A cntd messenger shall be sent 
 unto him." This seems to mean, the inexorable executioner 
 of the sentence of the law. Such is generally the end of 
 the turbulent man of mischief and wrong. He brings upon 
 himself the punishment required for the protection of the 
 lives and property, the liberty and well-being of others, of 
 the community at large. 
 
 O my friends, let the reproofs of God's word, and the cor- 
 rections of God's providence, be attended to and obeyed now; 
 for " who hath hardened himself against HIM, and hath pros- 
 pered?" "A cruel messenger" shall be at last sent unto 
 him. Death shall be such a one to you "ye that forget 
 God," and love evil ; for death will summon you to the bar 
 of the Eternal take warning. " To-day, if ye will hear his 
 voice, harden not your hearts." God now sends a merciful 
 messenger, to testify to you the riches and freeness of his 
 grace, and his willingness to save. He speaks to you by his 
 own Son, and prays you to be reconciled to himself. If this 
 gracious Messenger be rejected, he shall be succeeded by a 
 messenger of vengeance that shall shut you up in the prison- 
 hoiise of everlasting darkness and despair. " It is a fearful 
 thing to fall into the hands of the living God!" 
 
 Verse 1 2. " Let a bear robbed of her whelps meet a man, 
 rather than a fool in his folly." 
 
 A strong expression ! but, when the subject of it is rightly 
 understood, not a whit too strong. The reference is, not to
 
 14 o LECTURE XL VI. 
 
 the mere teazing and vexatious talk of the loquacious, empty- 
 headed, and self-conceited pedant or coxcomb. In that there 
 is more of the troublesome and annoying than of the dan- 
 gerous. But the comparison before us expresses, and is de- 
 signed to express, real danger. And the danger intended 
 does not seem to be the murderous rage of the infuriated 
 fool or wicked man, when stung by resentment, and, 
 under the impetuous power of his headstrong passions, 
 ready for all mischief: although I would not say that this 
 idea is to be excluded; for "a bear robbed of her whelps" 
 is no unapt comparison for an unprincipled man in a pas- 
 sion. But in harmony with the frequent warnings of this 
 Book, the reference is most probably to the spiritual danger 
 arising from the society of foolish and wicked men. The 
 bear, in all the fury of its disappointment and privation, can 
 do no more than kill and lacerate and tear in pieces the 
 body. The " fool," if he succeed in his unprincipled attempts, 
 especially on unsuspicious and simple-hearted youth, will 
 murder the soul seducing it from virtue and from God, and 
 consigning it to the death that never dies. A "bear rob- 
 bed of her whelps" seems anything but an appropriate em- 
 blem of him, in regard to temper and kindly pretensions. 
 But this only augments the danger. The very smoothness 
 and flattery of his manners is the peril 
 
 my young hearers, beware of " the fool in his folly" of 
 the unprincipled libertinism of the licentious, with all their 
 fascinating temptations ! Would you flee from the rage of 
 an infuriated wild beast from the paw and jaws of the lion 
 and the bear ? flee with still greater terror from the com- 
 pany of the wicked. 
 
 Verse 1 3. " Whoso rewardeth evil for good, evil shall not 
 depart from his house." On this subject the Bible takes 
 high ground. Good for evil is the Bible law from first to 
 last.* It has been said very truly " To render evil for good, 
 is devil-like; to render evil for evil, is man-like; to render 
 
 * Exod. xxiii. 4. 5; Deut. xxii. 14: Job xxxi. 29. 30; Prov. xxiv 
 28, 29; xxv. 21, 22; Matt. v. 4348; Rom. xii. 1721; 1 1'et. iii. 9.
 
 PKOVERBS XVII. 815, 141 
 
 good for evil, is godlike." The ungrateful forgetful ness of 
 favours, is bad; but the requital of good with evil, is the 
 very utmost stretch of depravity. Yet alas ! even this is far 
 from being a rarity. Selfishness is the besetting sin of our 
 fallen nature. It reigns paramount. It sets aside the claims 
 of both God and man. Selfish men receive the good be- 
 stowed upon them, merely for its own sake. They have no 
 consideration for the giver, further than as conveying the 
 benefit to them. They feel no attachment on account of the 
 principle by which the bestowment of it has been prompted, 
 though to a generous spirit that is a gift's chief value. 
 They snatch the good, and, in the enjoyment of it, never 
 think more of the hand from which it came. What is that 
 to them? Their own interest is promoted: and, should 
 the interest of the kind friend from whose bounty it has 
 come ever stand in the way of theirs, they laugh at the 
 thought of obligation, and sacrifice it without a scruple. 
 Every man for himself, is their base and sordid maxim. 
 shun selfishness. Cultivate the generous and forgiving spi- 
 rit of the Bible. " Look not every man on his own things, 
 but every man also on the things of others. Let this mind 
 be in ycfa, which was also in Christ Jesus." 
 
 All persecution of good men, in return for the affectionate 
 zeal with which they set themselves to promote the best in- 
 terests of others, their spiritual and eternal good, comes 
 fully under the condemnation of this verse. That is indeed 
 "rewarding evil for good." How writes the poet of White- 
 field 1 and what is true of him is but a portraiture of every 
 genuine servant of God : 
 
 " He loved the world that hated him : the tear 
 That dropp'd upon his bible, was sincere. 
 Assail'd by scandal and the tongue of strife, 
 His only answer was a blameless life; 
 And he that forged and he that threw the dart 
 Had each a brother's interest in his heart." 
 
 And when this fraternal interest, animating to self-deny- 
 ing earnestness of effort to impart the very best of blessings, 
 is requited with reviling, and persecuting, and casting out
 
 ]42 LECTURE XL VI. 
 
 the name as evil what a melancholy manifestation of the 
 tendencies of our fallen nature to render evil for good ! and 
 how awfully was this displayed in the person of the blessed 
 Redeemer himself! All that he did and suffered was for 
 men; yet men, instead of requiting him with grateful love, 
 '' pierced and nailed him to the tree." 
 
 The temper of mind, and the conduct proceeding from it, 
 that are here condemned, are very displeasing to God. They 
 are contrary to Hi a nature, contrary to His example, contrary 
 to His commands. Many a time in retributive righteous- 
 ness has God testified to this ; and how often as in the case 
 of Saul for his persecution of David, which was from first to 
 last a "rendering of evil for good" has the closing denun- 
 ciation been realized " Evil shall not depart from his house." 
 
 Verse 1 4. " The beginning of strife is as when one letteth 
 out water : therefore leave off contention, before it be med- 
 dled Avith." 
 
 When in the embankment of a canal, a river, or a reser- 
 voir of water, a very slight fissure is made, the water at 
 the first only oozes through, and comes by drops ; but by 
 degrees the opening widens; the mound is gradually sapped 
 and weakened; and at length it gives way, and the'bursting 
 inundation sweeps everything before it. So, from what tri- 
 vial beginnings have discords the most extensive, distressing, 
 and ruinous, often originated ! Thus we find it among chil- 
 dren : and in this respect, as in. some others, " Men are but 
 children of a larger growth." A single word, the motion of 
 a finger, the glance of an eye, happens to be noticed ; and 
 being interpreted as conveying a certain meaning, is resented ; 
 the measure of the retaliation is of course excessive, and 
 it provokes a return; the quarrel rises; the breach is wid- 
 ened ; irreconcileable alienation ensues ; and the alienation of 
 the individuals spreads to families, to circles of friends, to 
 neighbourhoods, to communities! 
 
 In Scripture, an evil is sometimes condemned and repro- 
 bated in itself; and at other times, on account of its conse- 
 quences. The latter is the case here. " Strife" is in itself an 
 evil, and as such to be shunned. But it is the more to be
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 8-15. 143 
 
 shunned, that its tendencies and effects are as here described. 
 " Leave it off before it be meddled with," is a strong way of 
 conveying the admonition to have nothing at all to do with 
 it. Rather let the offence pass than risk the consequences. 
 When the fissure in the embankm'ent appears, let the first 
 drop of oozing water be the signal to stop the leak, and pre- 
 vent the threatening flood. 
 
 And nowhere is the maxim or the counsel more appro- 
 priately or more strongly applicable, than in the churches of 
 Christ. The contention of two individuals may soon em- 
 broil a whole church. Let each feel the duty, then, of self- 
 control. If one word has passed their lips, let them beware 
 of a second ; for a second Avill lead to a third, and a third 
 still more certainly to a fourth. He who is able to return 
 bitter with sweet, will be most approved by the divine Mas- 
 ter. Look at the consequences; and "leave it off before it 
 be meddled with." And where the fissure of passion has 
 unhappily, to any degree, widened, let all unite in throwing 
 in the materials of love, and stopping up the gap. 
 
 There is one kind of strife, which of all possible descrip- 
 tions, it is wisdom to " leave off before it be meddled with," 
 with which indeed there can be no greater infatuation 
 than to meddle at all : it is the strife of sinners with their 
 God. Sinner ! God has a controversy with you. . It will be 
 well for you to submit in time, to submit in humble self- 
 condemnation. Persist not in a strife so unequal and so hope- 
 less. If you spurn at your sentence, and return the holy 
 frown of an offended God with the proud look of sullen re- 
 bellion, you are widening the breach ; you are " provoking 
 the Lord to anger." That anger is in the meanwhile sus- 
 pended; but in the end it will infallibly burst forth, like 
 an overwhelming flood, and sweep all his enemies away. 
 " Behold," He says, " I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, 
 a tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sure foundation : he 
 that believeth shall not make haste. Judgment also will I 
 lay to the line, and righteousness to the plummet : and the 
 hail shall sweep away the refuge of lies, and the waters 
 shall overflow the hiding place," Isa. xxviii. 16, 17.
 
 !44 LECTURE XLVI. 
 
 Verse 15 "He that justifieth the wicked, and he that 
 condemneth the just, even they both are abomination to the 
 Lord." r fo "justify the wicked'' is to take part with him, in 
 opposition to evidence, and, though the evidence condemns, 
 to make the sentence one of acquittal. To " condemn the 
 just" is, of course, the counterpart of the same crime; pro- 
 nouncing sentence, contrary to, or unsustained by evidence, 
 against the innocent. There may be various motives, by which 
 individuals are tempted to this crime : the fear of evil from 
 the power and influence of the wicked man, or the hope of 
 benefit from his favour; self-interest, in one or other of its 
 various forms : and in the other case, spite and envy ; mali- 
 cious dislike of principles or of conduct by which their own 
 are condemned; revenge of fancied injury; considerations 
 of expediency; and others of a similar kind. How fear- 
 fully was the motive of expediency exemplified in the case 
 of perfect -innocence and righteousness, in the person of the 
 Son of God!* 
 
 No consideration can ever, in any case, warrant the act.t 
 The judgment of God is denounced against all who are 
 guilty of it. ^ 
 
 And yet, manifest and universally admitted as is the evil 
 here declared to be " an abomination to the Lord" there are 
 those who would have the Lord himself to set the example 
 of it. Men are sinners. They have broken God's law. 
 That law has condemned them. This of course is the same 
 thing with their being condemned by the Lawgiver by God 
 himself. If they are condemned justly, that is, if they 
 have sinned and are wicked, he never can justify them in 
 tlie sense in which the word is used in this verse. That 
 would be to contradict himself, to condemn and acquit, 
 declare guilty and declare innocent at the same time. It 
 would be to take part with sin. It would be to give false 
 judgment, and to do that himself, which He pronounces 
 "abomination" in his creatures. This God cannot do, any 
 
 * John xi. 4750. f See Exod. xxiii. 7; Dent. xxv. 1. 
 
 I Isfi. v. 23; Kzvk. xxii. 2729; Amos v. 12.
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 815. 145 
 
 more than He can pass sentence of perdition on an innocent 
 angel, or than He would have inflicted death on man 
 while he continued to "hold fast his integrity" continued 
 without sin. God could not condemn man in innocence; 
 neither can He acquit man in his guilt. In the one case, 
 He would "condemn the righteous;" in the other, He would 
 ''''justify the wicked." 
 
 And yet God does justify and justify the ungodly. It is 
 the very purpose of the gospel to provide for this being done 
 in a way consistent with truth, and with all the claims of 
 righteousness and law. How is it done 1 ? The answer is 
 that sinners are condemned on their own accoimt, but justi- 
 fied on account of the merits and mediation of another 
 even of Him whom Jehovah has appointed as the atoning 
 and interceding Redeemer. In so justifying the ungodly, 
 the divine righteousness stands as unimpeachably clear as 
 the divine mercy ; " mercy and truth meeting together, righ- 
 teousness and peace embracing each other." 
 
 Let two closing reflections suffice. 
 
 I . As in the administration of justice, in the world or in 
 the church, so in the official declaration of doctrine and of 
 duty, faithfulness is the first and most essential qualification. 
 No "gift," no bribe, no love of gain, or, in the apostle's 
 phrase, " greed of filthy lucre," must ever be allowed to cor- 
 rupt " the man of God," and tempt him either to pervert or 
 to keep back the truth, to "shun to declare" any part of 
 " the counsel of God," or to utter a single sentiment but 
 what he believes to be a lesson of God's word, a divinely 
 authorised message. For a minister of Christ either to say 
 what is false or to withhold what is true, from a wish to 
 please those on whom he may feel himself dependent, is as 
 unworthy of him as for a judge on the civil bench to per- 
 vert justice; and maybe to others unspeakably more mis- 
 chievous. The decisions of the latter can affect only what is 
 temporary ; the effects of tho former's unfaithful temporizing 
 may extend to eternity. The guilt of the former, therefore, 
 may be greater than that of the latter, in the proportion of 
 the value of the soul to the body, of eternity to time. There 
 
 II. K
 
 146 
 
 LECTURE XLVI. 
 
 must be no bribery and corruption here. O to be able to say 
 
 with Paul - " I AM CLEAB FROM THE BLOOD OF ALL MEN ! " 
 
 2. How vast the benefit, Avere the precepts of Christ, 
 especially on the subject of offences, regarded and followed 
 out with a more conscientious and practical strictness ! And 
 on this particular subject, never fancy yourselves at liberty, 
 in any one case, to dispense with any one of His directions. 
 I speak the experience of thirty-eight years of pastoral 
 superintendence, when I say, that in no single instance has 
 departure from the prescribed course failed of producing the 
 most pernicious results. The rules of Christ are the rules of 
 Him who " knoweth what is in man." And an incalculable 
 amount of the discord and trouble, which are ever and anon 
 occurring in the churches, would be prevented, were His peo- 
 ple only to follow with scrupulous exactness the prescriptions 
 of those rules. 
 
 a . 
 
 jisdi ,dfirfW 
 flfi graoa yS. 
 in&A 
 
 iJagfli od od 
 .baircft &d iuso soirq on doidw tcoi 
 ^j 
 
 ;s 
 la ol 
 
 irrri t 9m oi emeaa ae 
 10" :eoii9dn&3 aJd od 0-. 
 s ion aad sd sou's ,miil 
 
 ai;i[i .i 
 
 ^ a-roiij 9ifi lo dormd a 
 ^tsrtfiT eno nnol sno 
 -318 ae 
 
 ; jrfj to 
 arora on ai 
 aito d I 
 
 ^ m 
 
 ii. 
 3it8i. 
 
 mo-it Lewonod ei 
 a 
 Jt 
 
 :IB '^afi toq oi dei. 
 riaimu'l 
 
 , 
 
 sxfl 
 
 9i QW t e 
 
 ;i
 
 
 jitiil iioiiqimoo ba& \iodhd oa t, 
 .its. OJA "so aooau ibirr MOtra juaio MA I " hafL iti'w 
 ,09-rq eril ei9W ^ftanod orfr dsev wo] 
 
 !JB erfo no yllr 
 fiQioBfloo wmi e ddrwiuo 
 ifiq eMd no 
 
 LECTUBE XLVII. 
 
 IfiroJaeq i- ! 'to aorcohoqxs odd iLsaqs I 
 
 __ ^ _ 
 ;uoo bsdhoasaq eifo mo-d awJ-ujqab 
 
 Pituv. XYJI. 1620. 
 
 " oify? iiiJH 
 
 " Wherefore is there a price in the hand of a fool to get wisdom, sec.ing lie 
 hath no heart to it? A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for 
 adversity. A man void of understanding striketh hands, and becometh surety 
 in the presence of his friend. He loveth transgression that loveth strife; and he 
 that exalteth his gate seeketh destruction. He that hath a froward heart find- 
 eth no good; and he that hath a perverse tongue falleth into mischief." 
 
 WISDOM is frequently pronounced to be inestimably precious 
 
 a good for which no price can be found. What, then, 
 can be meant by "a price to get wisdom?" By some an- 
 other turn but, as seems to me, a turn far from natural, 
 
 has been given to the sentence : " Of what avail are the 
 rich fool's riches to him, since he has not a heart to get 
 wisdom by means of them 1 " The sentiment thus expressed 
 is true ; but it is no more than a branch of the more general 
 sentiment conveyed by the words; one form one variety 
 only, of the evil We understand the term " a price" as sig- 
 nifying, whatever puts it in any one's power to acquire the 
 particular object. The phraseology is borrowed from the 
 market. Any article, we are wont to say, may be had there, 
 if a man has but the price to pay for it. What the "price" 
 is to the article wanted, the means of acquiring are to " wis- 
 dom." When we wish to put any article of ordinary mer- 
 chandise within a person's power, we furnish that person 
 with the price at which it is valued. There are cases, how- 
 ever, in which this may not be enough. The price may be 
 in a man's hand, and yet the article may not be within his
 
 us LECTURE XLVII. 
 
 reach not, at the time, to be had. Happily, it is never so 
 with the wisdom here spoken o If the means are pos- 
 sessed of acquiring it, it may always be acquired. It is in 
 the hand of God himself; and He is never either at a dis- 
 tance that we cannot repair to him ; or unwilling to bestow 
 it upon us, when we come to him for it bestow it I say ; 
 for we must remember, with regard to divine wisdom, that 
 'n a literal sense, it cannot be purchased. It must be had 
 " without money and without price" It is not to be " gotten 
 for gold."* 
 
 Why is it, then, that in so many cases in which " the price 
 is in the hand to get wisdom" the means of securing it 
 possessed its lessons remain unlearned, the mind ignorant, 
 the heart unimproved? Whence the sadly prevailing defi- 
 ciency, and even destitution, in the knowledge of the very 
 simplest elements of divine truth 1 ? Whence is it that we find 
 the ideas of so many minds so strangely crude, superficial, 
 and confused? How conies this to be so frequently the 
 case, even where all means and opportunities have been 
 fully and long enjoyed? where there has been early tuition ; 
 where the word has been in the house and in the hand, and 
 the ministrations of it in the ear for many years of Sab- 
 baths? Here is the answer the only one that can with truth 
 be given, there has been " no heart to it." The principle is 
 of wide application, and might be largely illustrated. 
 
 Why, for example, is not the knowledge of God learned 
 by the heathen themselves from the volume of nature ? or 
 rather, how has it been that they have not retained the 
 knowledge originally possessed, though surrounded, in crea- 
 tion, with all that is fitted to keep them in mind of it? 
 The apostle answers the enquiry " They did not like to retain 
 God in their knowledge." In other words, they had " no heart 
 to it." Why were the Jews, with all their superior means 
 of knowledge possessing, as they did, God's "lively ora- 
 
 * See ISA. Iv. 1. There is a contradiction in the idea of buying 
 " without money." The word has heen rendered more generally, pro- 
 cure. The original term is used to denote voTv.it is usually effected by 
 means of a price in money. And such is the case here (Author').
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 1620. 14y 
 
 cles" many of them ay, the large majority, so miserably 
 ignorant of the character of their own Jehovah? "Why? 
 because they had "no heart to it" the inclinations of theii 
 minds lay to the idolatrous follies of the surrounding na- 
 tions. "Why " forsook they the fountain of living water, and 
 hewed out unto themselves broken cisterns which could 
 hold no water ? " The answer is the same, they " had no 
 heart to it." 
 
 There is no maxim more thoroughly established by expe- 
 rience, than that a man cannot excel in anything to which 
 his heart does not lie. "When do men succeed best in the 
 pursuit of any object 1 ? Is it not when they have a heart to 
 it 1 "What is it that keeps all men astir in the pursuit and 
 acquisition of wealth? Is it not that theyhave a heart to it? 
 How do men acquire celebrity in any of the departments of 
 science or of art ? Is it not when they have a heart to it 'I 
 some measure of enthusiastic eagerness and persevering delight 
 in the pursuit 1 My young hearers know well, that they acquire 
 most readily, and attain to the greatest proficiency in, those 
 branches of knoAvledge to which they have most heart 
 which are most congenial to their inclinations, to the 
 taste and bent of their minds. You then set about it in ear- 
 nest ; you prosecute it with energy and perseverance ; you 
 let no difficulties deter you, nor cease application till you 
 have mastered them : it is your pleasure, and success in it 
 becomes your distinction. If you " have no heart to it" 
 the work is all up hill; you begin it with reluctance ; you 
 yawn and nod over it; you are pleased with every little 
 apology for neglecting or shortening your lesson ; your know- 
 ledge is partial and superficial; and you quickly let slip the 
 little you have learned. 
 
 The lessons of the Bible, those of them especially which 
 it is of most importance to know, and which are the most 
 essential elements of true wisdom, are far from being be- 
 yond the apprehension of any of your understandings. "Why 
 then to bring the matter home have you not an extensive 
 acquaintance with these lessons, and with all the contents of 
 the sacred volume? its histories, its doctrines, its precepts,
 
 150 LECTURE XLVII. 
 
 its promises, its prophecies, its devotional compositions ? Is 
 it no t speak the truth because you "have no Jieart" to the 
 study of the book that contains them? Can you, in con- 
 science, assign any other reason for the difference between 
 your attainments in this department of knowledge, and your 
 attainments in others that are of a more secular and worldly, 
 or merely literary and scientific, character, than that you 
 have less of interest in the one study than in the others 
 less pleasure in it less heart to it 1 Why is it that you do 
 not cherish the fear and the love of God by the contempla- 
 tion of those views of his character which He has, in his 
 works and more especially in his word, revealed ? is not the 
 reason the same that you have no heart to it? This, the 
 Bible tells you, is wisdom. But, although your judgment 
 cannot refuse its assent its constrained and reluctant assent 
 to the proposition, your heart goes not along with 
 it. It is not the "wisdom of this world;" nor what the 
 world will ever regard as a recommendation. It is not 
 the wisdom, therefore, which you choose and which it gives 
 you pleasure to think of acquiring. I put it to your con- 
 sciences, whether there be anything else whatever, that 
 keeps you from the knowledge and the fear of God, wherein 
 true religion consists than your having no heart to them ? 
 Talk not to me of inability : your inability is entirely 
 moral ; and consists in nothing else whatever than your " hav- 
 ing no heart" to that which is good. And is this not crimi- 
 nal? If not, then is there no sin nor crime on earth, in 
 hell, in the universe ; nor is the existence or the conception 
 of such a thing as moral evil possible. The want of heart 
 to that which is good, is the very essence of all that is sin- 
 ful. You offer anything but a valid excuse for your want of 
 religion, when you say you " have no heart to it" You plead 
 in excuse the very essence of your guilt. If you desired to 
 fear God, and could not help the contrary, your inability 
 might be something in your behalf. But the thing cannot 
 be. To desire to fear God, and not to be able, is a contra- 
 diction in terms. The having of the desire is the having of 
 the principle. There can be no desiring to fear without fear-
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 1620. 151 
 
 ing ; no desiring to love without loving. Would you admit 
 it as an apology for a rebellious child, that he desired to love 
 his father but could not? Yes; there is one case in which 
 the apology might stand if there was nothing in the father 
 that was lovely, but everything fitted to repel and to quench 
 affection, And will you venture to offer this plea in your 
 case 1 ? If indeed you can make it out that there is no love- 
 liness in God, your plea may stand ! If you can make it out 
 that there is no beauty in Christ, why you should desire him, 
 then may your disaffection to him be excusable. But if 
 in Christ and in God there is everything lovely, and that 
 ought to be loved, then your "having no heart to 'it" must 
 be your guilt and condemnation. what a hopeless task you 
 would undertake, were you to plead the want of loveliness, 
 the absence of all that is amiable in God and in Christ ! 
 Your own lips would condemn you. Give up your plea. 
 Acknowledge your sinful alienation. Turn to Him who says 
 " Behold I will pour out my Spirit unto you : " " Ask 
 and ye shall receive : " " A new heart will I give you, and a 
 new spirit will I put within you." 
 
 Verse 17. "A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is 
 born for adversity." These words contain the just commen- 
 dation of faithful constancy in friendship and brotherly 
 affection. A false and faithless friend professes great 
 attachment is the extreme of devotedness, when the ob- 
 ject of it is in prosperity and honour, and when connexion 
 with him is a credit and a benefit. But when the world 
 ceases to smile upon him, when their plaudits are hushed, 
 and their court is withdrawn though without any cause in 
 the forsaken and the fallen, whose character and deserts 
 remain the same, he cools, and skulks, and disowns him. 
 When attachment is of service to himself, he will gladly 
 share all the good, bask in the light of his countenance, 
 make his favour a stepping-stone to his own advancement ; 
 but when the evil day comes, and association with him 
 ceases to be a credit and a benefit, he sheers off, and knows 
 his dear, his valued, his esteemed, his excellent and 
 honoured friend no more! abandons him in the very
 
 15 2 LECTURE XLVII. 
 
 hour when the worth of true friendship is most deeply felt, 
 and the sustaining and sweetening influences of its genial 
 sympathy most keenly needed ! shakes himself loose at the 
 very moment when he should stick fastest! A genuine 
 friend the only friend worth having, and when found, of 
 inestimable value, is the same in all changes of condition ; 
 the same in every respect but one, that his heart gets 
 warmer to his friend as the world gets colder; he becomes 
 the more a friend to him as other friends fail ; stands the 
 more firmly by him, and avows his attachment the more 
 openly and the more fervently, in proportion as, by the 
 false and faithless, he is unworthily deserted. His attach- 
 ment is to the man not to his wealth or his honours ; and 
 if the man remain the same, no change of circumstances 
 will lessen the ardour of his friendship. Of such disinter- 
 ested and steadfast friendship, we have a 4ine exemplification 
 in the case of Jonathan and David. In opposition to a 
 father's unreasonable and groundless jealousy, and at the 
 sacrifice of his own interests and prospects as heir to the 
 throne, did the faithful Jonathan cleave to David, through all 
 his trials and dangers and shifting fortunes, guarding him 
 from harm ; encouraging and cheering him in his difficulties ; 
 and clearing the way for his advancement, till he himself 
 met his death on Mount Gilboa. Other instances are on 
 record in the pages of history; and in a greater and less 
 degree, in more private life, have the same principles of self- 
 denying and generous attachment true even to death been 
 manifested. 
 
 "And a brother is born for adversity." Some would ren- 
 der the words "And he" (i e. the true friend) "is born to 
 be a brother in adversity." But more probably, as the pre- 
 vious part of the verse describes what a friend should be ; 
 the latter clause describes what a brotiier or any near rela- 
 tion should be.* 
 
 "'J. brotiier for adversity' is one who will act the part of a 
 b i r n h r 1 ' in a 8eason of adversity. Of such an one it is said, he must or 
 shaU be born, (possibly) he is born. I do not understand this Inst 
 clause, unless the assertion is, that none but such as are born brethren. 
 i. e., kind/ed by blood, will cleave to us when in distress. Yet this is
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 1620. 153 
 
 Adversity is the time when affection is put to the proof. 
 It is hardly at all tried among relatives, when all is going 
 well, and there is no call in providence for sacrifices on the 
 part of any members of the domestic circle, in behalf of the 
 others. But when, through unforeseen circumstances, pri- 
 vation and distress become the lot of any of them, then 
 is the test of the sincerity and strength of natural affection. 
 Brethren are born to help each other in need. This is the 
 will and purpose of G-od in placing them in their near rela- 
 tionship. It is sad when this fails; and beautiful when 
 it is displayed. It is not when JSTaomi " goes out full," but 
 when "the Lord brings her home again empty," that the 
 fond attachment of Euth draws to the eye the tear of 
 approving and delighted sympathy. It is in the reverses 
 and fallen fortunes of his kinswoman widowed, desolate, 
 and dependent that the fidelity and generosity of Boaz are 
 brought out into conspicuous manifestation. We shudder 
 at the unnatural conduct of Joseph's brethren ; while in 
 Joseph himself whether viewed in the providential arrange- 
 ments of his history, or in his amiably pious and forgiving 
 disposition, we see " a brother born for adversity." 
 
 Verse 18. "A man void of understanding striketh hands, 
 and becometh surety in the presence of his friend." The 
 sentiment of this verse appears as if suggested by the pre- 
 ceding. It might naturally be asked If " a friend loveth 
 at all times" is not the time of his reduction of circum- 
 stances just one of those times of need when the sincerity of 
 friendship is tested, and when the love is called for? The 
 answer is Unquestionably. Solomon does not mean to 
 say that in no case ought friendship thus to express itself. 
 But he certainly does mean to say, that it should not be 
 done in all cases; that it should not be done with reckless 
 and inconsiderate hastiness. Ho does mean to say that 
 
 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 ad- 
 versity, is yet to be born, i. e., none such are now to be found; thus 
 makinpr it substantially equivalent in sense to the expression: ' How 
 few ;ind rare are such faithful friends!'" (Stuart).
 
 154 LECTURE XLVII. 
 
 there are other claims besides those of friendship, which 
 even those of friendship must not exclude from considera- 
 tion. There are some enthusiastic sentimentalists on the 
 subject of friendship, who talk wildly and at random of its 
 paramount claims. ! there is nothing that must be 
 allowed to stand in the way of friendship : everything 
 must yield to it! They seem ready in words at least, to 
 sacrifice at its shrine all other claims of men whatsoever, 
 and even the very claims of God himself. Now, right and 
 amiable as the earnest desire to help a friend may be, we 
 must beware of what may be termed the romance of friend- 
 ship. Let as great sacrifices be made as self can bear, when 
 self alone is implicated. But the extent of ability must be 
 considered. Circumstances must be rationally weighed. 
 
 There are claims of family; there are claims of creditors 
 and of partners in business; there are claims of the cause of 
 God. Imperious as the claims of friendship may be, the 
 claims of wife and children, and the claims of obvious jus- 
 tice, must not be disregarded and put out of account for 
 them. And then, in every case, it should be well con- 
 sidered, whether by our advances and suretiship the friend 
 is, after all, ultimately and in the long run, to be benefited. 
 He may think so. It may be quite clear to him. JS"o doubt 
 about it. But sanguine minds, under the pressure of imme- 
 diate difficulty, are of all others the most in danger of im- 
 posing on themselves. And in such cases, when neutral 
 eyes, seeing more clearly and further forward, discern the 
 illusion and its cause; painful as it may be to disappoint 
 the eager wishes and confident anticipations of the friend 
 who may be looking to you as his last resource, and assuring 
 himself of your standing by him, yet to go forward with 
 the certainty, instead of ultimately doing him service, of 
 only making bad worse, and involving yourself with him in 
 common loss and ruin, would assuredly be a very mistaken 
 exercise and evidence of friendliness. And again, it may be 
 remarked, friendship should be very cautious of pressing 
 such claims, of urging to such proofs of its sincerity. 
 There is good ground for suspecting the soundness of the
 
 PKOVEKBS XVII. 1C 20. 155 
 
 friendship, and for fearing there is in it too much of the 
 selfish, when a man is very eager to draw his friend into 
 such engagements.* 
 
 Verse 19. "He loveth transgression that loveth strife; 
 and he that exalteth his gate seeketh destruction." The 
 former of these propositions requires no proof. For, first, 
 strife itself is transgression. "Wars and fightings come of our 
 lusts which war in our members." The angry and resentful 
 passions cannot be indulged without sin. And, secondly, 
 strife leads to transgression. It is the unfailing occasion of 
 much evil in temper, in word, and in action. If a man is 
 desirous to bring himself and others into sin and suffering 
 into trespass and punishment, he cannot accomplish the 
 end more effectually than by fomenting contention. Strife 
 at once springs from, and gives strength and exercise to, the 
 principle from which all men's evil deeds and words against 
 each other proceed the opposite principle of love: love 
 being the fulfilling of the law, and enmity its universal 
 breach. Wisdom then and duty alike say, "Give place unto 
 wrath."t 
 
 "And he that exalteth his gate seelceth destruction." Some 
 take this for a comparison : As surely as he that exalteth 
 his gate (enlarging it out of due proportion) seeketh destruc- 
 tion to his house, by thus weakening its structure,- so sun/// 
 does he that loveth strife generate transgression. 
 
 The phrase "exalteth his gate" however, instead of being 
 thus understood literally, may, with more propriety, be in- 
 terpreted 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 ser- 
 vants, his dress, and every thing else. He who does this 
 "seeks destruction:" he courts his own downfall, as effectu- 
 
 * On this subject see chap. vi. 1 5. f Rom. xiii. 8 10.
 
 156 LECTURE XLVII. 
 
 ally as if it were his direct object to ruin himself. Mat the w 
 Henry, in his own quaint and pithy way, says "He makes 
 his gate so large, that his house and estate go out at it."- 
 A man's manner of life may, with perfect propriety, be pro- 
 portioned to his circumstances ; though a man of Christian 
 principle will rather keep within the allowable boundary 
 than go beyond it rather keep below than go above his 
 
 JIUM11S. But 
 
 1. A man sets out in high style upon little or no capital 
 desiring to get credit by giving the impression of abun- 
 dance. The man who does this, acts not foolishly only, 
 but falsely. It is an imposition a practical lie. There is 
 too much of this; too much of a departure from the sober- 
 minded prudence of our forefathers. If a young man, in 
 ordinary station, sets up a domestic establishment, it must 
 now be all at once in such style, that it presents a hindrance 
 to many from entering into married life, and thus operates 
 to the prevention of domestic habits, and to the fostering of 
 dissipation and vice : and at the same time, it embarrasses 
 business at its outset, and exposes to many anxious fears, and 
 many serious risks, which might, and ought to be shunned by 
 the good old-fashioned way of beginning on a small scale and 
 in a plain way, and working a gradual rise. This is the way 
 of prudence and security: the other is the way of specula- 
 tion and hazard. 
 
 2. If a man of principle rises in his style of living as his 
 means advance, he should, on a corresponding principle, 
 cheerfully and proportionally, retrench on their decline. 
 The contrary is another of the evils frequently to be seen in 
 our day. A man is what the world calls unfortunate. He 
 compounds with his creditors ; and he lives on just as 
 before; still "exalting his gate;" still maintaining all the 
 show and style of his former course, to the utter perplexity 
 and amazement of simple and honest minds, that can't at 
 all comprehend how it is that a man contrives to keep up 
 on nothing or on what they think, in their honest sim- 
 plicity, ought to be nothing, the same style of living that 
 he maintained when his business prospered and his riches
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 16-20. 157 
 
 increased. The contrary is required by many considerations. 
 Submission to God requires it. The course described 
 bears the aspect, and, it must be feared, is the reality, of 
 rebellion against His providence. Justice to men requires it. 
 He who, in a reverse of circumstances, continues to keep up 
 his full style of expenditure, neither acts like a Christian, 
 nor like a man of common honesty. His first business is 
 with his creditors ; and his first aim, at every cost of self-denial, 
 to pay them, what every honest man must wish to pay them, 
 twenty shillings in the pound. Peace of conscience requires 
 it. How can a man, who has a remnant of sound principle 
 left, enjoy himself, when he is " faring sumptuously every 
 day" on money that belongs to others'? And let me add 
 a just regard to his own interest requires it. He who 
 never comes down, or who does it, not spontaneously but 
 by sheer and stern compulsion, takes the surest way to im- 
 pair respect and to forfeit confidence and credit and reputa- 
 tion in business. He who, on his fall, gives all up, in the 
 spirit of integrity and honour, commands universal esteem, 
 secures trust, and produces in every rightly principled mind 
 a desire to help him again forward, and promote his 
 prosperity. 
 
 On the closing verse we need not dwell, as we have had 
 the same sentiments frequently under review : * only let all 
 mark afresh the assurance and ponder it well " He that 
 hath a froward heart findeth no good: and he that hath a 
 perverse tongue falleth into mischief." 
 
 * Chap. iii. 22; vi. 1215; x. 14, 31, &c.
 
 ' 
 
 LECTURE XLVIII. 
 
 ^ 
 
 PROV. xvji. 2128. 
 
 " He- that begetteth a fool doeth it to his sorrow: and the father of a fool 
 hath no joy. A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit 
 drieth the bones. A wicked man taketh a gift out of the bosom to pervert the 
 wavs of judgment. Wisdom is before him that hath understanding: but the eyes 
 of a fool are in the ends of the earth. A foolish son is a grief to his father, and 
 bitterness to her that bare him. Also to punish the just is not good, nor to 
 strike princes for equity. He that hath knowledge ppareth his words: and a 
 man of understanding is of an excellent spirit. Even a fool, when he holdeth 
 his peace, is counted wise : and he that shntteth his lips is esteemed a man -of 
 understanding." 
 
 " HE that begetteth a fool." A child of weak capacity? 
 N.I. Such a child, though a trial in one sense, may be a 
 source of joy in another true, sweet, lasting joy : for it is 
 almost impossible to say how feeble the powers of intellect 
 may be, and yet a parent's heart be gladdened by witnessing 
 that child a subject of divine grace ; the mind, as far as its 
 powers go, apprehending, though but imperfectly and glim- 
 meringly, the elements of gospel truth, under the secret 
 teaching of Him who "hides these things from the wise 
 and prudent, and reveals them unto babes," and the heart 
 experiencing, though in much simplicity, the influence by 
 which the affections are drawn to God, and the conscience 
 rendered sensitive to his authority. 
 
 "A. fool" means a graceless child, fro ward, unprincipled, 
 a "despiser of that which is good," without the "fear of 
 the Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom." Such a 
 child brings to a godly parent's heart "grief," "sorrow,"
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 2128. 159 
 
 "bitterness." These are the terms here employed, (verses 
 21, 25) and along with these we have the strong negative 
 form of expression: "The father of a fool hath no joy." 
 The meaning is more than that he has no joy in that sbn. 
 The character and conduct of that son serve to infuse 
 " bitterness " into everything else. There may be many 
 tilings in his domestic lot fitted to inspire cheerful- 
 ness and delight: but at the happy moments, when 
 his heart, yielding to all the fond impulses of conjugal 
 and parental tenderness, is swelling with the emotions of 
 gladness, the thought of his perverse, rebellious, profligate 
 boy comes over him, sends through that heart the pang of 
 agony, "turns his harp to mourning, and his organ to the 
 voice of them that weep." Nothing but blinding partiality 
 can prevent this in the case of a pious parent. And such 
 partiality, alas! is too common, and very mischievous and 
 very cruel to the youth who is its object. There is no 
 cruelty worse than this mistaken blindness; this shutting of 
 the eyes to a child's sinful propensities; this incredulity of 
 evil ; this easy, indulgent disposition, that cannot bring itself 
 to apply a check, and still goes on hoping the best, smiling 
 at trespasses, in its own, as venial faults, which, in other 
 children, it would condemn with gravity as serious offences ; 
 and looking, or professing to look, to grace, while neglecting 
 the ordained means by which grace operates. David "never 
 had displeased Adonijah in anything, by saying to him, 
 Why hast thou done so?" and the upshot of it was, in the 
 old age of his indulgent father, ambitious rebellion, and the 
 risk of civil war : and there is every reason to fear that, to 
 a certain degree at least, he owed to the same parental par- 
 tiality and indulgence, the still more atrocious and unnatural 
 conspiracy of Absalom, whose premature death drew from 
 his eyes the bitterest tears they ever shed, except those for 
 his own sins. For a man who has the affections of nature, 
 and who believes God's word, to see a son, "bone of his 
 bone, and flesh of his flesh," the object of his yearning love, 
 the subject of his early care, of his tears, his prayers, his 
 watchings, his anxieties, his fears, his hopes, walking in
 
 100 
 
 LECTURE XL VIII. 
 
 the way o. sinners, refusing instruction and admonition, 
 taking his side with God's enemies, living in ungodliness 
 and vice, going on, in all appearance, to perdition, unawed 
 by correction, whether from the parental or from the divine 
 hand, and untouched and unsubdued by entreaty : ! if 
 there be a drop in the cup of life of pure undiluted "bitter- 
 this is that drop. And special emphasis is here laid 
 on the sorrow and heart-break of a pious mother " bitter- 
 ness to her that bare him;" bare him, with the throes of a 
 mother's anguish; but those were throes which introduced 
 the joy of a mother's love, and were light when compared 
 with the agony of a mother's wounded spirit for her child 
 straying from God. On the contrary, if there is a draught 
 of pure delight in this valley of tears, it is the joy of a godly 
 parent in a godly child ! 
 
 Do you wish, then, parents, how strange and needless a 
 question ! do you wish to have joy in your children, and 
 not "sorrow," and "grief," and "bitterness I " Mind your duty. 
 Neglect not means; and when you use them, use them with 
 an affection that is regulated by judgment, and a judgment 
 whose firmness is softened by affection. Mind instruction, 
 example, correction, and prayer. Their corr-upt nature our 
 children derive from us. If we neglect instruction, or mislead 
 them by our example, or fail to correct, and to draw down by 
 prayer the blessing of a covenant God upon them, we be- 
 come ourselves the causes of our own sorrow, as well as of 
 their danger and ruin. And children : ! knew you but 
 the "bitterness" you infuse into the parental cup, could you 
 but put your lips to it and taste it, it would had you a 
 drop remaining in your heart' s-blood of a child's sensibility, 
 it would send a pang through your spirit ; it would arrest 
 you in your wild and godless career. If ever you have a 
 serious reflection, and your parents should then be no more, 
 how bitter to yourselves will be the cup of your remem- 
 brance ! For your parents' sakes, and for your own 
 "remember your Creator in the days of your youth:" 
 " forsake the foolish, and live." 
 
 Verse 22. "A merry heart doeth good like a medicine:
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 2128. 161 
 
 but a broken spirit drieth the bones."* The first clause 
 stands in the original "A merry heart doeth good a 
 medicine;" and we may either supply like or is; and read 
 " doeth good like a medicine," or, " doeth good is a medi- 
 cine." In the margin we have "to a medicine;" by which 
 is meant, what undoubtedly is included in the general sen- 
 timent, that a cheerful, contented spirit, contributes to pro- 
 mote the beneficial influence of a medicine in the recovery 
 of health, t A spirit that is cast down and "broken," not 
 so much, in this connexion, by afflictive visitations, (though 
 in that case too, there is truth in the representation) as by 
 impatience, thanklessness, disappointment^ discontent, envy 
 " drieth the bones." Under the influence of this gnawing, 
 carking, dissatisfied spirit, the spirit of peevish dulness, 
 that never smiles on the lips or sparkles in the eyes, but is 
 oppressed with a weightier heaviness by the very cheerful- 
 ness of others, as if it hated everything so unlike itself, the 
 body pines and wastes. Instead of the bones, in the terms of 
 the prophet, " flourishing like an herb," they wither for lack 
 of moisture ; the healthy secretions fail ; the strength decays ; 
 all is fretful debility and indolence. I would not confine 
 the expression, however, to this description alone of a dull 
 and cheerless spirit; it is true, as has been hinted, of the 
 effect of the burden of affliction, and it is specially true 
 also of the load of conscious guilt and the heavy, soul-depress- 
 ing apprehension of coming wrath. This is indeed a canker- 
 worm, that secretly consumes the very vitals, and, if not 
 effectually relieved, may lay the body, like a skeleton ere it 
 dies, in the grave. 
 
 In sickness, cheerfulness " is a medicine." In some disor- 
 ders especially, an easy and happy mind is the very best of 
 healing antidotes, and assists in the efficiency of every other. 
 
 * Compare chap. xv. 13 and 15. 
 
 t Stuart renders, "unll do the body good." The word rrrra, which 
 only occurs here, is translated body in the Chaldee and Syriac. "This 
 makes," says Stuart, "a more congruous sense, for body then corre- 
 sponds to U^, bone in the other clause, which last is only a tropical 
 appellation of the word corpus." 
 II. L
 
 162 LECTURE XLVlIf. 
 
 And what is the nature of the cheerfulness or " merry heart," 
 wliich Solomon here commends? We are sure it is not the 
 "laughter of the fool;" for of it he says "it is mad" and 
 short-lived too, " like the crackling of thorns under a pot," 
 only leaving, when the blaze is over, a gloomier sadness. 
 What he here and elsewhere commends is the cheerfulness of 
 a heart that has found peace with God, and the joy of God's 
 salvation. There may, it is true, be a natural buoyancy and 
 lightness of spirit, to which, in a limited acceptation, the 
 words before us may truly enough be applied. But above 
 all, and in the fulness of their meaning, are they true of the 
 heart in which there has settled the " peace that passeth all 
 understanding" the happy sense of God's love, the cheering 
 hope of God's glory. Here is sunshine, here is gladness. 
 A commentator,* whom I occasionally quote for the pithy 
 comprehensiveness of his remarks, observes " It is a great 
 mercy that God gives us leave to be cheerful, and cause to 
 be cheerful; and especially if, by his grace, he gives us 
 ^arts to be cheerful" Yes 
 
 " Ten thousand thousand precious gifts 
 
 Our daily thanks employ; 
 Nor is the lenst a cheerful heai^. 
 That tastes those gifts with joy." 
 
 let us be thankful above all for those springs of spiritual 
 and never-failing joy which God, in the fulness of his mercy, 
 has opened for us, when, so far as our deserts were con- 
 cerned, every fountain of sweetness might have been " sealed," 
 or converted into a fountain of bitterness. Let us drink of 
 the " wells of salvation," and " go on our way rejoicing ! " 
 
 Verse 23. "A wicked man taketh a gift out of the bosom 
 to pervert the ways of judgment." We have had this sub- 
 ject so recently before us, that we shall not again dwell 
 upon it.t 
 
 The only phrase here that suggests a remark in addition to 
 those formerly made is " taking the gift out of the losom." 
 
 * Henry. -|- See verse 8.
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 2128. 1G3 
 
 The phrase implies concealment. He who gives from the 
 bosom, and he who receives from the bosom, are both desir- 
 ous to have the action hidden. The "gift" the bribe, must 
 both be given and received covertly. 
 
 Let the briber and the bribed, alike bethink them of the 
 words "Thou, God, seest me!" The secret bribe may to 
 men remain a secret a secret through life a secret till the 
 judgment-day. But then God will "bring to light the hid- 
 den things of darkness, and make manifest the counsels of the 
 hearts." He abhors the deed. He will visit it with vengeance. 
 
 And let all my hearers bear in mind there is a judgment 
 which can by no possible means be perverted. There is no 
 bribing the Judge of all. He is infinitely beyond the reach 
 of " gifts." All receive from Him. He can receive from none. 
 The universe, with all that it contains, is his own. Where 
 is the creature who possesses any thing, that is not God's in 
 an infinitely higher sense than it is his ? And in that dread- 
 ful day that shall sum up and close the history of our fallen 
 world, when all shall be summoned before the bar of the 
 Eternal ; when not one shall be able either to evade or to 
 resist the summons; when the sentences of all that have 
 ever lived shall come forth from an authority whence there 
 is no appeal, and shall take sure effect the instant they 
 are pronounced, and settle for ever the doom of each un- 
 believing and unpardoned culprit there then, then 
 "what shall a man give in exchange for his soul 1 ?" how 
 shall he buy off his doomed and trembling spirit 1 ? "Were 
 the universe his, he would offer it all. But where is the 
 influence that can shake eternal justice 1 ? "What "bosom" 
 contains the bribe that can command even a commutation of 
 the sentence? There is ONE, who has paid the ransom of 
 a fallen world. God has accepted the ransom. It is not 
 "a gift that perverteth the ways of judgment." It is a 
 " propitiation, to declare God's righteousness in the remission 
 of sins." This ransom may avail for you in all its blessed 
 fruits of pardoning mercy, sanctifying grace, and life ever- 
 lasting, in a way that "brings out God's righteousness as 
 t'ne light, aud his judgment as the noonday."
 
 101 LECTURE XL VIII. 
 
 Verse 24. "Wisdom is before him that hath understand- 
 ing : but the eyes of a fool are in the ends of the earth." 
 
 One translator renders the words " In the countenance 
 of a wise man wisdom appeareth ; but the fool's eyes roll to 
 and fro : " the rolling of the eyes being understood as the 
 indication of an unsettled and vacant mind. But there is 
 more, surely, in the sentence than mere physiognomy, or 
 than the mere expression of the mind in the countenance. 
 Another understands the contrast as meaning that wisdom is 
 near to the one and far from the other : " wisdom is be- 
 fore" that is, ever near to "the man of understanding;" 
 "but the fool's eyes are in the ends of the earth" seeking 
 it; it is far from him. 
 
 The meaning seems rather to be simply this : The max- 
 ims and principles and directions of true wisdom are before 
 the man of understanding ; that is, they are kept ever in his 
 view. They are familiar to him, and constantly applied for 
 his guidance in the right way, ready for immediate use, 
 in all circumstances. In whatever condition, and whatever 
 emergency, " wisdom is before him : " the word of God is 
 before him, the fear of God is before him; the one the 
 rule of wisdom, the other the principle of wisdom; both, 
 before his memory, his conscience, and his heart. "Wisdom 
 leads, and he follows. 
 
 " But the eyes of a fool are in the ends of the earth." He 
 has no fixed and steady principle or rule; nothing on which 
 he fixes his eye for his guidance. His thoughts are inces- 
 santly wandering after matters he has nothing to do with, 
 anything and everything but that which he should at the 
 time be minding; roving after every vanity, and keeping 
 steadily to no pursuit. It is specially true of " things per- 
 taining to salvation." Wisdom, in this matter above all 
 others, is " before him that hath understanding." He looks 
 to one point. He sees one thing to be needful. He sees the 
 wisdom of God providing for it. There he fixes. And this 
 is wisdom. It is ever before him. One end one means. 
 Whereas "the fool's eyes are in the ends of the earth," He 
 has examined nothing. He roves at random, with no de-
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 2128. 165 
 
 terminate ideas about the most interesting, by infinite de- 
 grees, of all concerns. Ask him how he hopes to be saved; 
 you immediately discover his thoughtless unsettledness. 
 He is in " the ends of the earth." His answer is to seek. 
 It is here; it is there; it is nowhere. He hesitates; he 
 supposes; he guesses; he is at a stand; he cannot tell. 
 This is very mournful ; but it is very common. My friends, 
 wisdom is before you in this Book of God. But it is in 
 vain that it is here, if you set it not by faith before the eye 
 of your mind and the contemplation of your heart, that you 
 may follow it. Wisdom may be fixed in the book ; while 
 your eyes are roving away from it in every possible direc- 
 tion. be persuaded to learn it here, to set it before you, 
 and to follow it for your good. 
 
 There is another character that may here be meant by 
 the fool whose eyes are in "the ends of the earth;" namely 
 the schemer the visionary projector. The truly intelligent 
 man applies the plain and obvious dictates of common sense 
 and prudence to the attainment of his ends ; and in the quiet 
 and persevering application of evidently appropriate means, 
 he pursues and gains them. But the scheming, visionary 
 fool is for ever after out-of-the-way plans, new and far-fetched 
 expedients ; ever experimenting, where experiment is useless ; 
 ever theorizing, and ever failing: yet by no failure convinced 
 or corrected; but still, instead of fixing his eye on the near, 
 gazing out on the far off; and instead of patiently looking 
 for the regular produce of his own proper occupation, project- 
 ing something new, and generally as wild and harebrained as 
 new ; looking for his income from a distance, from something 
 yet, and yet to be tried, expecting good to come to him 
 from " the ends of the earth." 
 
 Thus, in every view, the fool resembles the man who, on 
 a road that is full of traps and pits and snares, and beset 
 with dangers on right and left, instead of having (to use a 
 colloquial expression) all his eyes about him, has them rov- 
 ing, in idle vacancy, on far distant objects. 
 
 Verse 26. "Also to punish the just is not good, nor to 
 strike princes for equity." The word rendered prince signi-
 
 H56 LECTURE XLVIII. 
 
 fies noble, and is differently understood. It may be applied 
 to the nobility of station, or to that of mind. Some give 
 preference to the latter ; and by interpreting it of the noble- 
 minded, and the "just" in the former clause, of the righteous 
 or the people of God, make the two clauses thus to corre- 
 spond, and to have much the same import. It seems, how- 
 ever, both more natural and more comprehensive, to consider 
 firo ideas as expressed; the one relating to the duty of the 
 ruler, and the other to that of the ruled. It is the incum- 
 bent duty of the ruler, on the one part, to administer justice 
 with strict impartiality. It is the duty, on the other part, of 
 subjects to countenance, encourage, and support the ruler iii 
 the equitable administration of his trust. To "strike" is evi- 
 dently to be understood, not literally alone of actual striking, 
 but of "smiting with the tongue" as well as with the fist or 
 the rod, of all kinds of vituperation and abuse, and attempts 
 to bring the throne into disrepute and odium, and unsettle 
 its stability, by shaking the confidence and attachment of the 
 community. There are many occasions in which a man may 
 be tempted to this. He may, in particular cases, have his 
 mind biassed by pride, by self-interest, by partiality towards 
 a friend, by political predilections; so that even when all 
 has been done with impartial investigation, and the judg- 
 ment pronounced according to the legitimate rules of evi- 
 dence and demands of equity, there may be unfair, unreason- 
 able, and angry dissatisfaction; and the prince may be smit- 
 ten for justice. Every man ought to be on his guard against 
 this. The higher the responsibility, the more burdensome 
 and difficult the trust, and the more serious the results of 
 bringing authorities and the laws into disesteem, and unset- 
 tling public confidence in them, ought to be the amount of 
 our reluctant caution in pronouncing censure. 
 
 Another remark may be ventured. One of the great diffi- 
 culties with which governments of great nations have to 
 contend, arises from the variety of crossing and contending 
 interests with which they have to deal How anxious so- 
 e\vr they may honestly be, to allow no undue bias to draw 
 them from the line of impartial justice, yet there is hardly a
 
 PROVERBS XVII. 2128. 167 
 
 measure they can adopt that does not affect differently dif- 
 ferent classes of the community ; so that, from their various 
 predisposing circumstances, that shall appear to one class, 
 to those in one particular department of trade or commerce, 
 the very essence of injustice, which by another is lauded 
 as a most unexceptionable exemplification of impartial 
 equity. This ought surely to have the effect, I do not by 
 any means say of forbidding the most vigilant observance 
 and the freest and most searching scrutiny and discussion 
 of every measure, and the exposure of its evil or question- 
 able character and tendency, but assuredly of procuring 
 some allowance for the difficulty of the task of pleasing all 
 parties, and some moderation in the tone of censure even 
 where to us the grounds for it are clear and palpable. No 
 man who knows himself will affirm, in almost any case, 
 that, placed, in other circumstances, he might not see with 
 other eyes. I speak in general There are cases, in which 
 the interests of a suffering country are to a vast extent, in- 
 volved, in which it becomes every man's paramount duty to 
 speak out and to speak plainly, and to make the ears of the 
 rulers to tingle with the outcry of humanity and justice. 
 
 I would further apply the spirit of this verse to the case 
 of arbitrators. We have ourselves, it may be, consented to 
 submit a litigated point to arbitration. We do so with a 
 full persuasion of our being in the right of our claim being 
 the just one. But the arbiters unite in giving it against us. 
 It would be most unreasonable on our part to retain a 
 grudge, especially at the one appointed by ourselves, on this 
 account. Our reference implied confidence in his impartial- 
 ity and honour, and implied a pledge of cheerful acquies- 
 cence. To grumble, to censure, and to withdraw our friend- 
 ship, would be indeed to " strike him for equity." He would 
 have proved himself unworthy of his trust, if his disposition 
 to please and serve us had been too strong for principle, 
 conscience, and oath. 
 
 There is one government, in which "the just" are never 
 " punished," all whose laws and all whose sanctions are the 
 perfection of equity. But alas ! it is under that very gov-
 
 168 LECTURE XLVIII. 
 
 ernment that the spirit expressed by the phrase " striking 
 princes for equity" is most fearfully manifested. All the 
 murmurings of sinners against either the law of God or its 
 revealed and threatened penalty, are the very essence, in its 
 deepest malignity, of this spirit. There can never be reason 
 for it here. Let sinners submit to God ; own the righteous- 
 ness of His law, and the equity of its sanction, and bow to 
 the outstretched sceptre of His grace. 
 
 Verse 27. " He that hath knowledge spareth his words : 
 and a man of understanding is of an excellent spirit." * 
 
 Modesty and diffidence, sound judgment and discretion, 
 make the wise man "sparing of his words;" but the connexion 
 naturally leads me to the view generally given of the pas- 
 sage namely, that the wise man lays his tongue under 
 restraint when his spirit is warm, and when he feels he 
 would be in danger of speaking unadvisedly, improperly, 
 injuriously to others or to himself The phrase " an excel- 
 lent spirit" is on the margin, more literally, and in the pre- 
 sent instance, I should think more appropriately "a cool 
 spirit." He has the power of self-control, gf the government 
 of his passions; he is meek and lowly in heart; concilia- 
 tory and forgiving in his disposition. It is this that enables 
 him to maintain coolness in his manner, even when in- 
 wardly, were he giving way to corrupt nature in its felt ten- 
 dencies, his blood would boil over, and his lips utter per- 
 verse things. 
 
 The fool might get a character for wisdom, had he only 
 wit enough to be quiet ; " Even a fool, when he holdeth 
 his peace, is counted wise : and he that shutteth his lips is 
 esteemed a man of understanding." Folly, to be known, 
 must be uttered. If it is kept in, it may pass undiscovered ; 
 and the very reserve might contribute to give a stranger the 
 impression of wisdom ; since " he that hath knowledge spar- 
 eth his words." But the loss of the fool is, that he " cannot 
 withhold himself from speaking; and thus he cannot con- 
 ceal his folly." 
 
 * Comp. chap. x. 19. and cbap. xv. 28. and see too Jam. i. 19 and 
 26.
 
 LECTURE XLIX. 
 
 PKOV. xviii. 1 8. 
 
 " Through desire a man, having separated himself, seeketh and interineddleth 
 with all wisdom. A fool hath no delight in understanding, but that his heart 
 may discover itself. When the wicked cometh, then cometh also contempt, and 
 with ignominy reproach. The words of a man's mouth are as deep waters, and 
 the wellspring of wisdom as a flowing brook. It is not good to accept the 
 person of the wicked, to overthrow the righteous in judgment. A fool's lips 
 enter into contention, and his mouth calleth for strokes. A fool's month is his 
 destruction, and his lips are the snare of his soul. The words of a talebearer 
 are as wounds, and they go down into the innermost parts of the belly." 
 
 OF the first of these verses two views are given by critics 
 and commentators. They are opposites. The one makes 
 Solomon refer to a pursuit of knoAvledge and wisdom that is 
 right and commendable, the other regards him as speaking 
 of what is wrong and censurable. And of this second view of 
 the general meaning there are several varieties. By one critic* 
 the intended character is thus described " A self-conceited 
 hair-brained fool seeks to satisfy his fancy, and intermingleth 
 himself with all things." Anothert draws it thus : " He 
 who has separated himself agitates questions as his desire 
 prompts, and breaks his teeth on every hard point." A 
 third | thus "The recluse seeks his own pleasure, or incli- 
 nation ; he laughs at, or derides, everything solid or wise : " 
 and a fourth, differently from all these " He seeks occa- 
 sions, who desires to separate himself from his friends." In 
 the margin, we have it thus : " He that separateth himself, 
 
 * Schultens. f Sclmlz. J Parkhurst. Hodgson.
 
 170 LECTURE XLIX. 
 
 seeketh and interineddleth with all wisdom;" and, from the 
 reference subjoined, (Jude 19.) it is evident in what sense 
 this was meant to be understood. 
 
 Another gives it, like our translators, a general form, 
 without directly expressing either good or evil in the case : 
 " A retired man pursueth the researches he delighteth in, and 
 hath pleasure in each branch of science." 
 
 I am disposed to think that our own translation gives the 
 sense "Through desire" that is, the desire of knowledge 
 "a man having separated himself" that is, having re- 
 tired and secluded himself from interruption by the intru- 
 sion of companions and the engagements of social life 
 " seeketh and intermeddleth with all wisdom." 
 
 Among other reasons for preferring this view of the verse, 
 I may mention, that to me there seems to be an intended 
 contrast between the character in the first verse and that in 
 the second. The contrast is between the man that loves and 
 pursues knowledge, and the man who undervalues and de- 
 spises it. 
 
 In the investigation of each of the sciences, and in the 
 pursuit of general knowledge, many have been the instances 
 of men devoting themselves to research, " rising early and 
 sitting late" expending time, and toil, and mind, and trea- 
 sure, for the acquisition. Different and mingled motives 
 have incited and maintained the pursuit. The love of know- 
 ledge for its own sake ; the love of reputation and fame, pre- 
 sent and posthumous, as one of its results ; and a benevolent 
 desire to contribute, by means of it, to the comfort, entertain- 
 ment, improvement, and happiness of mankind, as another. 
 Men of literature, and men of science and art, have discov- 
 vered an abstraction and a perseverance in their respective 
 pursuits, though in some instances disproportionate to the 
 real value of their objects, eminently creditable to their men- 
 tal powers, and to their powers of application and research. 
 
 It were well if the word of God, the fountain of the 
 best and highest of all wisdom had a greater number of 
 such ardent and devoted students. Alas ! how many there 
 are, and ever have been, men of eminence in erudition and
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 18. 171 
 
 science, by whom its sacred pages have been neglected, and 
 who have remained utter strangers to the knowledge it com- 
 municates; who have thought that knowledge quite be- 
 neath them, and would have been ashamed of being seen 
 with the Bible in their hands or of being for a moment 
 supposed ever to look into it ! " In that hour, Jesus rejoiced 
 in spirit, and said, I thank thee, Father, Lord of heaven and 
 earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and 
 prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes." Here is know- 
 ledge which babes may understand; and yet here is know- 
 ledge for the grasp of angelic minds. And this union of the 
 simple with the lofty and sublime, of information for a child 
 amongst men, with subjects of devout admiration for seraphs 
 before the throne, is one of the evidences of divinity with 
 a heavenly origin with which the Book is enstamped. The 
 philosopher may despise it; yet it contains depths that are 
 beyond the soundings of the longest line of his wisdom ; and 
 if he despises it, because its blessed discoveries can be ap- 
 prehended, sufficiently for their salvation, by the unlettered 
 poor and the lisping child, he despises it on account of one 
 of its divinest and most wonderful excellences. 
 
 Let it be observed, at the same time, respecting the study 
 of the Bible, that there are dangers to be guarded against. 
 There is the danger of s'tudying it simply as a branch of 
 science, or of mere philosophic speculation. There are many 
 points relative to the evidences of Christianity, and to the 
 system of theology which the Bible unfolds, such as may 
 engage and interest the inquisitive mind, while the soul re- 
 mains estranged from its influence the knowledge " playing 
 round the head," but never reaching the heart. 
 
 There is the further danger against which all its public 
 teachers require to be on their guard, of merely studying 
 the Bible professionally; preparing from the Scriptures, 
 something to be preached, week after week, to others, with- 
 out a due impression of its importance to themselves, or the 
 necessary personal application of it. The Bible may, in this 
 way, be studied for a life-time, and never be felt and exem- 
 plified in its spiritual and saving power. Yes, my friends.
 
 172 LECTURE XLIX. 
 
 There are other unworthy ends for which a man may wisli 
 for, and choose, the profession of a minister, besides the desire 
 of a living, or of a reputable standing. This is one fondness 
 for literary retirement. Here is a situation for its indulgence. 
 A man may thus, in literary leisure, " seek and intermeddle 
 with all wisdom." I will not say, honourably ; I will not 
 say safely. For nothing can be more dishonourable, than 
 for a man to choose, for his own gratification, what ought to 
 be a scene of active inquiry and effort for the benefit of 
 others; to convert into a literary lounge, and a source of 
 mere selfish mental luxury, the most fearfully responsible of 
 all the services in which it is possible to be engaged. Yet 
 there is far more in the word of God than that which lies 
 on the surface ; and it is well when sanctified minds devote 
 themselves to such researches as are fitted to bring out for 
 public benefit its hidden treasures. And here lies one part 
 of the value of a well-instructed ministry. 
 
 Verse 2. " A fool hath no delight in understanding, but 
 that his heart may discover itself." This verse, as we have 
 said, presents a contrast to the first, an opposite character. 
 According to the sense we have put upon the first verse, it 
 is the desire of knowledge and wisdom, that induces the man 
 who " separateth himself" to choose his seclusion, that he may 
 follow out the desire with success. But the fool has no such 
 desire. He "has no delight in understanding." If he seeks 
 knowledge, at all, it is neither for its own sake, nor for the 
 purpose of fitting him for usefulness, but solely for the ends 
 of self-display. He " hath no delight" in knowledge, " but in 
 the displaying of his own thoughts. "* His delight is in the 
 gratification of vanity and self-conceit. Such kinds and 
 measures of knowledge as may just save his credit, or enable 
 him, in the company he frequents, to show off, to talk so 
 as to be admired and flattered, he seeks eagerly : and a 
 vrry superficial smattering may serve his purpose. He thus 
 makes manifest to every sensible and observant mind, both 
 the weakness and emptiness of his understanding, and the 
 
 * Hodgson.
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 18. 173 
 
 vanity of his heart. In the use he makes of his knowledge, 
 such as it is, his heart "discovers itself." 
 
 It may mean too, that the fool the unprincipled man 
 seeks knowledge such as accords with the perverse propen- 
 sities of his heart ; such as he can use for the gratification of 
 those propensities. In the very choice- he makes of the 
 knowledge to be sought, as well as in the use he makes of it 
 when it has been acquired, he shows the state of his heart. 
 
 For the purpose of vanity and self-display, the fool may 
 take a fancy to attend a little, among other matters, even to 
 iVn-inlty. Such subjects may be introduced. When they are, 
 it would never do for him to have nothing to say. He does not 
 like them, it is true; they are very dry; not at all to his 
 taste. But still, the appearance of utter ignorance would be 
 mortifying; and by the contrary, by showing that he can 
 talk on that as Avell as on other subjects, he has his vanity 
 gratified. The very thought of the applause of his circle, 
 of his sentiments being received with " Spoke like an 
 oracle!" is everything to him. It is to be feared, that with 
 some this goes further; and that the discovery of what is in 
 the heart is of something worse than vanity. There are 
 those who seek a little acquaintance with the doctrines of 
 Christianity, for the purpose of enabling them to say some 
 thing against them ; and who get a smattering of the argu- 
 ments of infidelity, that they may go primed with them to 
 the club or the tavern, or the debating society, and there get 
 a reputation for being persons of free thought and indepen- 
 dent spirit, by sporting sentiments that are in contrariety to 
 what are ordinarily held, and showing their superiority to 
 vulgar prejudices. They pass for choice spirits, that have 
 freed themselves from the leading-strings of a nursery edu- 
 cation, and learned to think for themselves. Thus " the heart 
 discovers itself." There is nothing there of the real earnest 
 love of truth ; but the desire of a character for originality 
 and boldness, and for being the oracles of their circle. This 
 is a very sad, but, it is to be feared, no very uncommon case. 
 And it is no less sad when the sacred truths of the divine 
 word, instead of being studied for their own sakes, and for
 
 174 LECTURE XLIX. 
 
 the infinitely important ends to which they are designed to 
 be subservient, are made the mere food of vanity, and means 
 of a fool's self-display. 
 
 Verse 3. "When the wicked cometh, then cometh also 
 contempt, and with ignominy reproach." The sense of this 
 verse will somewhat vary, according to the sense attached 
 to the first clause. It may mean : 
 
 1. "When the wicked cometh" into places of public trust, 
 power, and influence " then cometh contempt." They bring 
 " contempt," not to themselves only, but to the places they 
 fill, and the societies to which they become united to 
 themselves, for the unworthy manner in which they fulfil 
 the duties of the trust they have assumed, or have had com- 
 mitted to them ; and to their places and societies, with which 
 their names are associated. They entail " ignominy and re- 
 proach" upon all they have to do with. And in no case is 
 this more true, than with regard to offices in the church. 
 what an amount of scorn and reproach has been brought 
 upon the sacred office of the ministry by the intrusion, under 
 numberless pretexts, and from numberless causes, of wicked, 
 worldly, ungodly men into its holy functions. How full is 
 Church history of this deplorable evil ! and how many infi- 
 dels and scorners has Church history by this means produced. 
 Thus it was under the old dispensation. The wickedness of 
 the sons of Eli made men " abhor the offering of the Lord." 
 And thus it is still. Of the "false teachers" who should 
 arise in the latter days, it is said " by reason of them the 
 way of truth shall be evil-spoken of." From few other 
 sources, if from any, has there proceeded a greater profusion 
 of unmerited "reproach" of the name and doctrine and 
 kingdom of the Lord; or has "the chair of the scorner" 
 drawn a greater number and variety of its sarcastic sneers 
 and bitter revilings. 
 
 2. The phrase may mean "When the wicked cometh" 
 into intimacy, companionship, familiarity, " then cometh con- 
 tempt." He who admits the wicked to his intimacy makes 
 him his associate, must share the infamy of his ill-chosen 
 companion. Many a time too has this been exemplified.
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 18. 175 
 
 Many a fair reputation has been blasted, many an honoured 
 name brought into disgrace by association with the wicked 
 and worthless. On this account, then, as well as on the 
 higher ground of the risk of infection from the contact of 
 evil, beware, all of you, beware, especially my youthful 
 hearers, of such associations. Keep aloof from the wicked 
 and the foolish. Be assured, there is far more reason to 
 fear that he will debase and degrade you, than to hope that 
 you will elevate him. You will get the disgrace of his 
 society, rather than he the credit and the honour of yours. 
 
 Verse 4. "The words of a man's mouth are as deep wa- 
 ters, and the wellspring of wisdom as a flowing brook." 
 
 Here two different interpretations have been given, as the 
 terms are evidently susceptible of them. -1. The two clauses 
 of the verse are by some considered as containing a contrast 
 between two opposite things : the first clause referring to the 
 depths of evil and guileful counsel in the heart; while the 
 words do not truly indicate what lies there concealed : * 
 while the second refers to the transparent open flowing stream 
 of true wisdom, from the heart of the upright and the good ; 
 whose conversation flows in a limpid current, not deep and 
 turbid, but clear, fresh, cheering, fructifying. 2. It is more 
 likely that the other interpretation is the correct one ; 
 according to which there is no designed contrast; but the 
 character of the former clause is to be taken from the latter : 
 "The words of a man's mouth" that is, according to the 
 second clause, of a wise man's mouth " are as deep waters, 
 and the wellspring of wisdom as a flowing brook." In the 
 two clauses of the verse, on the principle of parallelism, there 
 appears to be an inversion of the same sentiment ; for, pro- 
 perly speaking, the words uttered are not the " deep waters," 
 but the stream that issues from them ; and, on the other hand, 
 "the wellspring of wisdom" is not "the flowing brook," but 
 the deep and copious fountain or reservoir from which it 
 issues. Another passage may serve to confirm this view. 
 " Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water; but a mau 
 
 * Coinp. Psal. Ixiv. 6.
 
 176 LECTURE XLIX. 
 
 of vmdersta iding will draw it out" Here, the counsel is the 
 deep water not the words. But the words are the stream 
 which the deep waters send forth. The words bring out and 
 contain the counsel They are like " deep Avaters," inasmuch 
 as they do not readily run dry are not quickly exhausted. 
 The stream of words is of a character such as indicates the 
 depth or abundance of waters from which it flows. The 
 wisdom proceeding from the deep and full fountain in the 
 heart, flows in a pure and silent stream, not like the shal- 
 low current, with rattling and brawling noise, the apt em- 
 blem of the noisy but empty talk of the fooL 
 
 The sentiment expressed in the verse, we hare already 
 had before us more than once under different modifications. 
 
 The same may be said of the sentiment of the fifth verse. 
 "VVe have had it twice before us, though not precisely under 
 the same form of expression, recently,* and it will come be- 
 fore us again hereafter: "It is not good to accept the per- 
 son of the wicked, to overthrow the righteous in judgment." 
 Bear in mind, that what is true of causes in civil courts, or 
 in submission to arbitration, is not less true of causes that 
 come before the churches of Christ. There must be " no 
 respect of persons." It is of such cases the apostle James 
 speaks when he says, " My brethren, have not the faith of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, with respect of 
 persons. For if there come unto your assembly a man with 
 a gold ring, in goodly apparel, and there come in also a poor 
 man in vile raiment; and ye have respect to him that 
 weareth the gay clothing, and say unto him, Sit thou here 
 in a good place; and say to the poor, Stand thou there, or 
 sit here under my footstool: are ye not then partial in your- 
 selves, and are become judges of evil thoughts]" James ii. 
 1 4. The last of these verses determines the mean- 
 ing. If they were tempted to give a preference to the 
 rich, in a plea between the rich and the poor, they were 
 become "judges influenced by evil thoughts." On the part 
 of the church, and of all who may be appointed to in- 
 
 * See cliap. xvii. 18 and 23.
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 18. 177 
 
 vestigate cases for their guidance in discipline, no duty is 
 more important than that of " doing nothing by partiality." 
 
 Verses 6, 7. " A fool's lips enter into contention, and his 
 mouth calleth for strokes. A fool's mouth is his destruction, 
 and his lips are the snare of his soul" While the contrast 
 here described is wiclced as opposed to the character and 
 will of God the God of peace and love it is marked by 
 weakness and imprudence. He is weak-minded indeed who 
 is easily offended, takes every thing amiss, startles at 
 every act or look or word that can bear to be interpreted 
 into a reflection or an insult, is on fire and in a blaze in a 
 moment, like a heap of combustibles on the falling of every 
 spark, vows vengeance, "enters into contentions" "calls 
 for strokes," gives his card, or sends his friend, challenging 
 to the death the man who has dared to use a word out of 
 joint and not in the perfect punctilio of etiquette and 
 honour, or the glance of whose eye has seemed to his jealous 
 spirit to speak defiance. The grounds of such challenges, 
 in the world of fashion, are in many instances perhaps in 
 most instances, the littlest and most pitiful imaginable, 
 unworthy of a man of common sense to mind, such as 
 should make any man blush to own them. True vigour of 
 mind and wisdom, would regard and treat such trifles with 
 the contempt which is their due; would not even allow its 
 tranquillity to be disturbed, the calm surface of their peace 
 to be so much as ruffled by them. 
 
 And he is imprudent. " Entering into contentions " 
 may refer to the contentions of others, as well as his own. 
 The folly of fools is often thus discovered. They are so 
 fond of strifes, that they quite delight when they find two 
 fallen or falling out. They join the fray. They stir up the 
 combatants; foment their wrath; touch their pride, and urge 
 them on to all the vehemence of passion. They excite to 
 lawsuits and duels, rather than do what lies in their power 
 for their prevention; and delight to embitter bitterness, and 
 to ensure interminable jars and irreconcileable alienation. 
 
 * See chap. xi. 13: xii. 18: xvi. 23. 
 II.* M
 
 17 8 LECTURE XLIX. 
 
 Verse 8. "The words of a talebearer are as wounds, and 
 they go down into the innermost parts of the belly." We 
 have had this character before us already: but it is one 
 which cannot be too frequently exposed, or too strongly 
 and severely reprobated. The "talebearer" is generally very 
 smooth and insinuating ; very fair in his speech ; very in- 
 sidious in his purpose. Love and regard are professed to- 
 wards the party of whom the tale is told; and very sincere 
 and deep regret at having such a tale to tell. "Who would 
 have thought it ! " he exclaims, " I hardly expect you will 
 believe me. But alas ! it is even so too true" It is with 
 extreme reluctance he repeats it, knowing as he does how 
 very much it will grieve you to hear it. But then the very 
 interest you take in the person renders it quite impossible to 
 keep it from you; and perhaps who can tell? you may, by 
 knowing it, be the instrument of doing him good. And 
 many apologies are suggested for the unhappy doer of what 
 he tells, and palliations pleaded in his behalf, yet still 
 with an insinuated uncertainty that puts a sting into the 
 very plea. The words go deep. The wounds they inflict 
 are deep. They pierce to the very vitals first, on the 
 reputation and character, and it may be, on the interest too, 
 of the subject of the tale; slaying and destroying both, be- 
 yond recovery : and secondly, on the confidence, the friend- 
 ship, the peace and comfort of the person to whom the tale 
 is told; infusing the venom of suspicion, or worse than sus- 
 picion into his mind; embittering his spirit; engendering 
 feelings the most agonizing in regard to those whom he 
 loved, and whom he still wishes to love, and whom to sus- 
 pect of treachery or of wrong, is like tearing his very heart 
 asunder. 
 
 The bite of a viper is not so deadly as the wound of these 
 "talebearers'" stories and insinuations. The truth is, they 
 contrive to infuse their poison without a bite. If they would 
 but appear in their true character; would they but show 
 their fangs, and make us feel them, we should be put upon 
 our guard. We know the viper. We shun it. And when it 
 has unhappily succeeded in wounding us, we instantly have
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 18. 179 
 
 recourse to means for preventing the poison from getting 
 into the mass of the blood, and pervading the system. But 
 these human vipers infuse their poison in the language of 
 kindness and love. " Their words are smoother than oil ; 
 yet are they drawn swords;" envenomed fangs, of which 
 the virus gets into our system ere we are aware, works its 
 mischievous and morally deadly effects, and becomes inca- 
 pable of extraction. Every attempt at its removal still 
 leaves some portion of it behind. There is, in the original 
 word, an implication of softness, simplicity, undesignedness, 
 which only gives the secret weapon with which the wound 
 is inflicted the greater keenness. 
 
 By one eminent critic the word rendered wounds is, by a 
 different etymology, made to signify " like morsels greedily 
 swallowed;" by which translation the passage is made to 
 express what is certainly too melancholy a truth the avi- 
 dity with which the "talebearer's" words are generally listened 
 to and received, swallowed with eagerness. The other is 
 the sense generally adopted. 
 
 Beware of every approach to the character yoiirselves; and 
 beware of giving it any countenance or encouragement in 
 others. If there exists a character that deserves to be 
 hooted out of society, and branded deep with disgrace and 
 infamy, the whispering "talebearer" is that character. 
 cultivate openness, straightforwardness, simple-hearted can- 
 dour, unsuspecting charity the charity that " thinketh no 
 evil," that "beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth 
 all things, endureth all things ! "
 
 i OO.9 
 
 10. elool 
 
 oa be*. - {lijsb on 
 
 fidbi o so v.eri'if 
 
 ;I1^ -V-I9 
 
 LEOlUKJu lj. 
 
 - 
 * 
 
 PROV. xviu. 9H. 
 
 " He also that is slothful in his work is brother to him that is a great waster. 
 The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and I* 
 safe. The rich man's wealth is his strong city, and as a high wall in his own 
 conceit. Before destruction the heart of man is haughty, and before honour is 
 humility. He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and 
 shame unto him. The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity; but a wounded 
 spirit who can bear?" 
 
 IT must be obvious to every one, that the tendencies of 
 waste and thriftlessness are the same with those ascribed to 
 sluggishness and idleness* They tend alike to poverty. 
 The slothful man might have more by diligence; the thrift- 
 less man might have more by economy. Diligence and eco- 
 nomy are sister virtues; laziness and thriftlessness are kin- 
 dred vices : the sluggard is brother to the waster. 
 
 The practical lesson is, that, in personal and domestic 
 interests, diligence and economy should go together; and 
 that the one without the other, never can avail, for either 
 obtaining or securing, even the comforts of life. Of what 
 use is industry if its proceeds are not prudently managed 
 when they come in? if husband, or wife, or both, be desti- 
 tute of discretion, improvident and thriftless? if there is the 
 absence of all sober and considerate calculation, and, as a 
 consequence, no due proportioning of outlay to income, but a 
 reckless and wasteful expenditure, leaving an unlooked-for 
 
 * See chap. vi. 6 1 1 ; x. 4. 
 
 1
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 914. 181 
 
 deficiency a woful amount minus at the year's end? 
 The poor inconsiderate fools never think what they are 
 ahout. They keep no daily reckoning no accounts ; and so 
 their money is gone they can't tell how they had no idea 
 they were living at such a rate ! and even when they have 
 made the discovery, there is no improvement. They say, 
 possibly, they must take care; but they only say it, and 
 immediately forget it. Things go on as before ; and still (to 
 use rather a colloquial, but sufficiently expressive phrase,) 
 what is taken in by the door is thrown out by the window; 
 and still the wonder continues how it goes! They are ever 
 marvelling how other folks do. They can't understand it. 
 For their parts, all that comes in finds its way off from them 
 as fast as it comes, and many a time faster ! Thus, as might 
 be expected, there are the same appearances of bareness, and 
 cheerlessness, and want, in the dwelling of the thriftless as 
 in that of the slothful. Extremes thus meet. 
 
 The lesson of the verse is one for all stations. That which 
 all, in every station, ought to aim at, is a union of indus- 
 try and economy; associated with a liberality proportionate 
 to providentially bestoAved means a careful distinction being 
 made between an economical, and a penurious and miserly, 
 disposition, a disposition that keeps all for self, that grasps 
 hard, and can part with nothing. This is what God com- 
 mands ; and this is what will ever draw the approving and 
 confiding admiration of men. 
 
 Diligence, let me remind you, is as necessary for the ac- 
 quisition of spiritual as of temporal good, of the riches 
 of divine knowledge to the mind, as of the blessings of 
 the divine life to the heart. And not less is economy of 
 means. How often may it be seen, that with means 
 of a very limited and stinted amount, there is more of 
 spiritual prosperity in one instance, than is discoverable 
 in another, with means the most varied and abundant. 
 Many believers, it is to be feared, are spiritual spendthrifts. 
 They use their privileges on no principle of economy. 
 They read, they hear, they frequent ordinances, and yet 
 their progress in spiritual attainments bears no proportion
 
 182 LECTURE L. 
 
 to the extent of their advantages. Rich in privilege, they 
 are poor in both the graces and enjoyments of the life 
 of God in the soul. Why? The answer is plain. They 
 who thrive on slender means, make the most of what they 
 have; whereas they who live in the midst of abundance 
 get into habits of carelessness, and of the prodigal use of 
 what they have allowing a great deal of it to run to waste. 
 Fellow-Christians, guard against this tendency. Improve 
 every part of what you enjoy, as if it were the whole ; unit- 
 ing thus diligence and carefulness, that " you may grow in 
 grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
 Christ;" that the prayer of Paul for the Philippians may 
 be fulfilled in your happy experience.* 
 
 Verse 10 12. "The name of the Lord is a strong tower : 
 the righteous runneth into it, and is safe. The rich man's 
 wealth is his strong city, and as an high wall in his own con- 
 ceit. Before destruction the heart of man is haughty, and 
 before honour is humility." 
 
 Between these verses there is a manifest and interesting 
 connexion ; and we therefore take them together in illustration. 
 " The NAME of the Lord" means his character Ms perfections, 
 as revealed in His word ; what any one is, being naturally 
 associated with, and suggested by, his name. When the Psalm- 
 ist says, " They that know Thy name will put their trust in 
 thee"t it is quite obvious, that by knowing Jehovah's name 
 he means more than merely knowing that God was called Jeho- 
 vah. It is to know God Himself; the idiom being quite 
 common in the Scriptures of using the name of a person as a 
 phrase for the person to whom the name belongs. The com- 
 parison of Jehovah's name to "a strong tower" is frequent.t 
 There is in this, occasion for grateful wonder; that to a sin- 
 ner God's name should be a refuge ! Surely, it was not to 
 have been expected that a rebellious and guilty creature 
 should find his refuge there ! It is that from which such a 
 creature might be supposed to shrink and to flee, as yielding 
 
 *Phil. i. 9 11. f Psal. ix. 10. 
 
 % Psal. xviii. 2; xxvii. 7; Ixi. 3, 4; xci. 2; cxliv. 2.
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 914. 183 
 
 him anything but the prospect of protection and safety. It 
 is God as revealed in His word that is meant. The grand 
 object of that word is to make known the gospd the teat/ 
 of salvation; God in his true character as light and love; 
 " delighting in mercy ; " " in Christ reconciling the world unto 
 himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them." It is in 
 this character in which he made himself known before the 
 law, under the law, and more clearly under the dispensa- 
 tion of " the fulness of time," that God invites sinners to 
 come to him, and to put their trust in him; in his name, 
 in hi.s character, in the truths and promises of his covenant. 
 To "the righteous the name of the Lord" the Lord in 
 whom they have believed " is a strong tower : " a tower of 
 impregnable security. And in times of temptation, trial, 
 difficulty, and danger, it is always at hand, so that they 
 may " run into it" and feel their safety. All that can be 
 imagined necessary to ensure protection is combined in JEHO- 
 VAH' s NAME. There is the union of mercy and love, wisdom, 
 righteousness, faithfulness, and power, all pledged in cove- 
 nant promise, by their God and Father in Christ. Thither, 
 then, may the tried, afflicted, imperilled, tempted child of 
 God ever betake himself; and there he will delightfully feel 
 that all is safe and well There he can sit secure and sing 
 " God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help 
 in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth 
 be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the 
 midst of the sea," PsaL xlvi. 1, 2. 
 
 In the next verse, a temptation is mentioned to a very 
 different kind of confidence : " The rich man's wealth is his 
 strong city, and as an high wall in his own conceit." This is 
 a " strong delusion," and shows the tendency of our nature, 
 under various influences, to " believe a He." Surely he is 
 going on with " a lie in his right hand," who is thus " trust- 
 ing in his -wealth, and boasting himself of the multitude of 
 his riches ; " who is thus " saying to the gold, Thou art my 
 hope, and to the fine gold, Thou art my confidence;" who is 
 thus " setting his heart upon that which is not." While he 
 exults in his security, and regards his wealth as his " high
 
 184 LECTURE L. 
 
 wall" of protection from evils and sufferings that abound 
 around him, and alas ! from within its entrenchments even 
 sets at defiance the salutary admonitions of that God who 
 gives him all, and warns him of a reckoning to come, it is a 
 " high wall" only " in his own conceit." It is a wall of no real 
 strength, and affording no real safety, either from the ills 
 of time, or from the woes of eternity. It is a wall that is 
 only " daubed with untempered mortar," and to which the 
 words of the prophet may, in all their emphasis, he accom- 
 modated : " Say unto them who daub it with untempered 
 mortar, that it shall fall: there shall be an overflowing 
 shower, and ye, great hailstones, shall fall, and a stormy 
 wind shall rend it," Ezek. xiii. 11. It is a wall which, even 
 although no desolating storm should overthrow it in the rich 
 worldling's life-time, is to him, in the very decay of Ms own 
 life, mouldering away, and coming to ruin ; and leaving him, 
 in the end, to the full and torturing experience of all that is 
 meant by the simple but alarming question " Then, whose 
 shall those things be which thou hast provided?" Or, to 
 change the figure Death, like an armed man, in the might 
 of his resistless commission, shall invade his stronghold, at 
 the very moment, it may be, when he is most confidently 
 vaunting of its security; and before that all-conquering 
 power, no wealth shall profit him; "no, not gold nor all the 
 forces of strength." The "haughty heart" the spirit of 
 proud and self-confident independence engendered and fos- 
 tered by "wealth" is but the prelude to "destruction" 
 
 Verse 13. "He that answereth a matter before he heareth 
 it, it is folly and shame unto him." Nothing, to be sure, can 
 be more preposterously foolish than the conduct thus de- 
 scribed. It is, however, in all departments, strangely common. 
 
 It is very common in ordinary conversation. How fre- 
 quently do you find people who interrupt and answer you, 
 ere you have half finished, or perhaps well begun, what you 
 have to say ! It is common too in causes submitted for judg- 
 ment not so much so, perhaps, as in the former case, yet 
 painfully common. A decision is pronounced at once with 
 all confidence, before the statement and the proof are half
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 914. 185 
 
 closed. It is no less common in matters of argument and 
 controversy. Your opponent will not allow you to com- 
 plete your process of reasoning, but starts into a reply long 
 before you have done, or can possibly be understood. 
 
 These are points of fact and character, of every-day occur- 
 rence. The spurces of the evil are various ; and in touching 
 on them, its nature, and the "folly and shame" of those by 
 whom it is practised, will more fully appear. I notice, then 
 
 1. Xatural or acquired eagerness of spirit, and impatience 
 of protracted inquiry. Such minds cannot bear anything 
 that requires close and long-sustained attention. They be- 
 come uneasy, fretted, and fidgetty; and are ever anxious to 
 catch at any occasion for cutting the matter short and being 
 done with it. 
 
 2. The sympathy of passion with one or other of the par- 
 ties. One of them happens to be their friend; and whether 
 it be he or his adversary that makes the statement, partiality 
 for him stirs their resentment at the injury done to him ; 
 the blood warms; and, passion thus striking in, they hastily 
 interrupt the narration will hear no more of it, and at 
 once proceed to load the enemy of their friend with abuse 
 and imprecation. They know their friend, and to them it is 
 enough that he has been a sufferer; they take it for granted 
 that he must be in the right. 
 
 3. Indolence indisposition to be troubled. lids is a 
 temper the very opposite of the first, but producing a simi- 
 lar effect The former jumped to a conclusion from over- 
 eagerness; this comes soon to a close from sheer sluggish- 
 ness of mind. It is to a man of this stagnant and lazy 
 temperament an exertion quite unbearable to keep his mind 
 so long on the stretch, as to listen even to a statement, 
 and still more to an argument or pleading, that cannot be 
 finished in a breath and done with. His attention soon 
 flags ; he gets sick of it ; he seems as if he were listening, 
 when he is not, and with a yawn of exhaustion and misery, 
 he pronounces his verdict, and at times with great decision, 
 for no other purpose than to get quit of the trouble. He 
 can stand it no longer.
 
 186 LECTURE L. 
 
 4. Self-conceit the affectation of extraordinary acuteness. 
 This would be an amusing character, were it not, at the 
 same time, so provoking. The self-conceited man assumes a 
 very sagacious and penetrating look : sits down with appa- 
 rent determination to hear out the cause on both sides, and 
 to "judge righteous judgment." But it is hardly well be- 
 gun, when the self-conceited man sees to the end of it. He 
 starts up; his countenance beams with self-satisfaction; he 
 throws aside the pen with which he had begun to take care- 
 ful memoranda: "Xot the smallest need to go any farther 
 the case is clear as day not a doubt about it settled 
 beyond a question it is so, and so, and so." And the same 
 is the case in all matters of controversy. You can't get lei- 
 sure to state your argument. Whether it be favourable or 
 unfavourable, on the one side or on the other, this man 
 of wondrous penetration sees it all in an instant, as if by 
 intuition ; and he springs to the inference and to the answer, 
 before you have well entered on your premises; or each 
 argument in succession he catches out of your mouth, and 
 finishes for you. It is surprising with what agility this spirit 
 of self-conceit gets over difficulties. It sees none no, never. 
 
 " Where others toil with philosophic force, 
 Its nimble nonsense takes a shorter course; 
 Flings at your head conviction in the lump, 
 And gains remote conclusions at a jump." 
 
 Did I say that this self-conceit never sees difficulties 1 
 I was wrong. There is one case in which it is very likely, 
 almost sure to see them. I mean, when others can't. Ah ! 
 then, it looks very grave, and shakes its head, and with ora- 
 cular foresight, discerns a thousand ay, and great and seri- 
 ous ones too. 
 
 "Be not ye," my brethren, thus "wise in your own con- 
 ceits:" for "He that answereth a matter before he heareth 
 it, it is folly and shame unto him." It is "folly" from 
 whichsoever of these or of other causes it proceeds. And it 
 is no less " shame" Many a time does it bring a man to 
 shame, and cover him with confusion. In not a few cases, it is
 
 PROVERBS XVni. 914. 187 
 
 twenty to one if he hit upon the truth. And perhaps there 
 can be few better ways to expose the folly and punish the 
 presumption, than to allow the man to go on to his close; 
 and then, when he is in the full flush and triumph of self- 
 complacency, to point out to him calmly how completely he 
 has mistaken and misjudged the case. At any rate, such 
 treatment is well merited on his part, if it can only be in- 
 flicted (which is not perhaps easy) in a right spirit on ours. 
 
 Verse 14. " The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity; 
 but a wounded spirit who can bear?" When "the spirit" is 
 fresh and vigorous, bodily infirmities, and even pains of the 
 severest description, may be endured with a great measure of 
 composure by natural fortitude alone : how much more 
 when it is enlivened and sustained in energy by the grace of 
 the gospel ! There is no saying what degree of bodily suffer- 
 ing may be borne without shrinking, by a mind in the full 
 action of its powers and principles, and animated by divine 
 influences. What have Christians, sinking to death under 
 diseases the most agonizing, endured with smiling patience ! 
 and what have martyrs submitted to with cheerfulness, in 
 the dungeon, on the rack, on the scaffold, at the stake ! But 
 when " the spirit" itself is, "wounded" when it is pierced 
 and tortured, the bodily frame is shaken thereby to weak- 
 ness and to the dust. 
 
 And what is "a wounded spirit?" The designation may 
 be applied to the soul in various conditions. "The spirit" 
 may be wounded, for example, deeply, sorely wounded by 
 (I /appointed hoi^es; especially when these hopes have 
 rested on the attachment of a friend or friends, in whose 
 faithfulness and love we have trusted, but by whom our con- 
 fidence has been betrayed, and whose pledged affection has 
 misgiven us : when " our own familiar friend, who did eat 
 of our bread, hath lifted up his heel against us : " when the 
 bosom on which we leaned and reposed proves false and 
 treacherous : when we find ourselves left alone, when most 
 we required the sympathy, the counsel, and the aid of faith- 
 ful friendship; when we are "deserted at our utmost need" 
 by those to whom we had looked with all the security of
 
 188 LECTURE L. 
 
 an undoubting reliance : when, it may be, those who are 
 " bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh," instead of divid- 
 ing our sorrows and doubling our joys by fond and faithful 
 participation, are cooled, alienated, estranged from us. O 
 this, to such as may have experienced it, or may ever expe- 
 rience it, must be anguish itself "Well may we say, " Who 
 can bear it?" The tortures of the joint-dislocating and bone- 
 breaking wheel are not to be compared with the agony of a 
 spirit thus wounded. To bear well that is, to bear with 
 right principle and in a right manner, even bodily and other 
 providential inflictions, requires more than mere natural for- 
 titude : and to bear well the agony of " a wounded spirit," 
 requires a measure still larger of the gracious influences of 
 God's Holy Spirit, and all the power of promise and of hope. 
 
 The words may also be applied to a wounded conscience, 
 a conscience pierced through with the arrows of a thou- 
 sand convictions, stung with self-accusations, agitated, 
 through the discovery of the spiritual and heart-searching 
 character of the divine law, with the "fearful looking-for 
 of judgment." A "good conscience" is one of the firmest 
 supports under the heaviest ills of life. It Avas amidst his 
 sufferings from severe persecution, that Paul felt its precious- 
 ness. It was his "rejoicing." But a true believer, enjoy- 
 ing reconciliation and peace with God through Jesus Christ, 
 and "exercising himself to have always a conscience void 
 of offence" ho w^ different his case, even when alive to a 
 sense of many failings, from that of the poor sinner with un- 
 repented, unconfessed, undeplored, unforgiven guilt lying 
 upon his conscience, and that conscience quickened to 
 action roused to its fearful functions by the "fiery law." 
 This is intolerable anguish. This form of the "wounded 
 spirit who can bear?"* 
 
 By this desperate state of spirit, men are sometimes driven 
 to conduct the most infatuated and tS the most fearful of 
 all extremities suicide itself; by which they seek refuge 
 from the pangs of earth in the severer pangs of hell This 
 
 * Psal. xxxii. 3, 4; xxxviii. 1 3.
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 914. 189 
 
 is one of the forms of that "sorrow of the world which 
 worketh death." 
 
 The only cure for a wounded conscience is the blood of 
 atonement of the divinely provided, the divinely accepted, 
 the divine atonement. There is no other way of true and, in 
 the end, satisfactory deliverance from this deepest and most 
 excruciating of all the wounds of the ruind. It is a wound 
 which cannot be borne, but in one or other of two ways. 
 .Either the conscience must be seared into hardness by fami- 
 liarity with sin drugged into insensibility by its intoxicat- 
 ing cup, (the most fearful curse under the form of a present 
 relief which can ever, in the judicial vengeance of heaven, 
 fall upon any sinner on earth,) or it must be divinely paci- 
 fied by faith in the atoning Saviour. The wound is one 
 which no influence of God's Spirit can ever be imparted to 
 enable a man to bear. The Holy Spirit is given to deliver 
 from it, not to sustain under it. And this He does by 
 "taking of the things that are Christ's, and showing them" 
 to the mind of the conscience-stricken and spirit-wounded 
 sinner, leading him to "the Lamb of God, which taketh 
 away the sin of the world." Groaning under the load of his 
 sins, which have become a burden too heavy for him to bear, 
 smarting in anguish with the stings of an awakened and 
 busy conscience, overwhelmed with the " fearful looking-for 
 of judgment and fiery indignation" the trembling sinner 
 comes to the cross, comes to it, under the gracious guidance 
 of the Holy Spirit. It is there " looking on Him whom 
 he has pierced" that he finds his effectual cure; there, that 
 his wounded spirit is healed : 
 
 " We sing a note that far transcends 
 
 The highest angel's highest strain: 
 They never knew the pang that rends 
 Nor felt the grace that heals the pnin." 
 
 "With what exquisite and touching pathos does the Chris- 
 tian Author of the Task drawing from his own experience, 
 describe the anguish of " a wounded spirit," and the effi- 
 cient means of cure !
 
 190 LECTURE L. 
 
 " I was a stricken deer, that left the herd 
 Long since: with many an arrow deep infixed, 
 My panting side was charged when I withdrew, 
 To seek a tranquil death in distant shades. 
 There was I found by One who had himself 
 Been hurt by th' archers. In his side he bore, 
 And in his hands and feet the cruel scars. 
 With gentle force soliciting the darts, 
 He drew them forth, and heal'd, and bade me live!" 
 
 my hearers, if a wounded conscience a sense of guilt 
 in the soul is thus ill to be "borne here; what will be the 
 sufferings of the "wounded spirit" in the world to come! 
 where there will be no pleasures of sin to alleviate or to sear 
 it ! when it will be excited to the keenest sensibility, and its 
 arrows will be dipped in the venom at once of memory and 
 hopeless anticipation! when the spirit shall be "pierced 
 through with many sorrows," and sorrows for which no soft- 
 ening and no cure shall ever be provided; "no balm" in 
 the place of final woe, " no physician there I " " Their worm 
 dieth not." 
 
 If such be the agony of a thoroughly awakened and sen- 
 sitive conscience will you think me cruel in expressing the 
 wish and the prayer that every conscience in this assembly 
 were thus awakened thus endowed with sensibility? Ah! 
 my Mends, the wish is as far as possible from being a cruel 
 ona I wish your consciences awakened now, while you are 
 within reach of healing; while you have access to the balm 
 and to the physician. Note the cure is to be found. Now, 
 peace and hope are attainable. The blood that cleanseth 
 from all sin, will heal the very deepest, fiercest, and most 
 agonizing wounds of the spirit. If a conscience awakened 
 and armed with its torturing sting is fearful, still more 
 fearful, and more ominous of future misery, is a conscience 
 seared and insensible. This is not peace; it is stupor; it 
 is the sleep of death ; it is the appalling prelude to death 
 eternal !
 
 LECTURE LI. 
 
 PROV. xvni. 15 19. 
 
 "The heart of the prudent getteth knowledge; and the ear of the wise seek- 
 eth knowledge. A man's gift maketh room for him, and bringeth him before 
 great men. He that is first in his own cause seemeth just; but his neighbour 
 cometh and searcheth him. The lot causeth contentions to cease, and parteth 
 between the mighty. A brother offended is harder to be won than a strong citv 
 and their contentions are like the bars of a castle." 
 
 "THE heart" is here, as in many other instances, apparently 
 used for the mind in general, including both the intellect 
 and the affections. There is, in " the wise," a love of knowledge ; 
 and an application of the mental powers for its attainment. 
 And as " the ear" is one of the great inlets to instruction, it 
 may here, with propriety, be considered as comprehending all 
 the ways in which knowledge may be acquired. "The ear" 
 of "the wise" listens with interested and eager attention, 
 when instruction of any valuable kind is imparted; and 
 as "the ear trieth words," he hears with discrimination, 
 desirous to distinguish truth from error, that the latter may 
 be rejected, and the former stored up in his memory, and 
 retained for use. "The wise" appreciates knowledge ac- 
 cording to its utility, and never loses sight of its practical 
 application. It is his desire that his whole character may be 
 formed by the truth which he receives from the divine 
 record. The Psalmist expresses the " wisdom of the wise," 
 in this respect, when he says "Thy word have I hid in 
 my heart, that I sin not against thee."
 
 192 LECTURE LI. 
 
 Verse 16. "A man's gift rnaketh room for him, and 
 bringeth him before great men."* 
 
 Some would render, instead of " maketh room" " maketh 
 enlargement," that is, procures release and liberty. On this 
 principle the governor Felix acted toward the Apostle Paul, 
 eager for the gratification of his own avaricious disposition, t 
 His was a basely sordid and unprincipled expectation. Alas ! 
 that a feeling so mean and despicable as well as profligate 
 should be so common, under one form or another! How 
 often does it happen, that, when a man is unknown as to his 
 rank and condition, however fair and worthy his suit may 
 be, all is distance, and reserve, all cold repulsiveness ; and 
 recourse is had to any pretext whatever in order to get rid 
 of him; but when afterwards, his station and wealth are 
 discovered, and he is found to be a man who has a good 
 deal in his power, from whom something may be expect- 
 ed ; what a change ! how many apologies, and regrets, 
 and thousands of excuses! what altered looks and man- 
 ner! what obsequiousness, politeness, and courtesy! what 
 cringing, what flattery! He who before refused a look or 
 word of ordinary civility, would now go to the ends of the 
 earth to serve one so worthy ! nothing too great or too good 
 to be done for him! all at his command! Shame on our 
 fallen nature ! He who can thus basely stoop from the 
 manly dignity of independence ; and, instead of taking lib 
 ground in character alone, in the realities of substantial 
 excellence, can condescend to accept of civilities and hon- 
 ours and tokens of respect, paid him solely for his conferred 
 or expected gifts, is, if possible, even more contemptible 
 than he by whom those gifts are received. The "great 
 men" are little men, into whose presence "a gift" obtains ad- 
 mission, when sterling worth would fail of finding it. And 
 when there is any principle involved, and the gift conies for 
 the purpose of bribing that principle out of the way of ac- 
 cess, it ought to be, and by every man of right character it 
 will be, rejected with honest indignation an indignation that 
 
 * Compare chap. xvii. 8; xix. 6. f Acts xxiv. 26.
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 1519. 193 
 
 blushes at being thought capable of such disgraceful and 
 criminal pliancy. It will be thus rejected, independently of 
 what the Avorld may say; but a regard to character will, at 
 the same time, concur, with a regard to principle, in com- 
 manding its rejection ; for even were the giver of the gift to 
 gain his plea fairly, independently of his bribe, to the bribe 
 the success would be imputed, and the fairness of the de- 
 cision in itself would be considered as only accidental and 
 fortunate, the "gift" ensuring the sentence, let the merits 
 of the case be what they may. He who makes his way by 
 " gifts" deserves to be disappointed : and he is truly honour- 
 able, and proves himself worthy of implicit confidence, and 
 of the happy results of such a character, who, under the 
 dominant power of principle, scorns and repudiates the " gift," 
 how valuable soever it may be, and does disappoint him. 
 
 ! my hearers, remember, every one of you that there 
 is ONE to whom no gift of yours can introduce you, with 
 whom nothing you can ever have it in your power to offer 
 can obtain you favour, and yet an introduction to whom, 
 and the attainment of whose favour, is to each one of you of 
 infinite value. There is no offering that can " make way for 
 you" to the presence of the GOD OF HEAVEN. Could you 
 pour at his feet the treasures of all worlds, you would be 
 giving him only what was his own. Yet, there is a way 
 made for you : not by any gift of yours, but by the gift 
 for you of HIMSELF by the divine Mediator. If you ap- 
 proach in that way to the God of salvation, you may come 
 fearlessly to His very seat; and you will find it a mercy- 
 seat ; you will have a sure acceptance and a gracious welcome, 
 both now and in the great day. 
 
 Verse 17. "He that is first in his own cause seemeth 
 just; but his neighbour cometh and searcheth him." We 
 have, in this verse, another evidence of the identity of hu- 
 man nature in all times and places. There are different 
 causes of the pleasure we derive from particular sayings. 
 Sometimes it arises from its profoundness and originality; 
 while at other times it springs from its very striking con- 
 formity with every -day fact, and the pithy brevity and 
 
 II. N
 
 194 LECTURE LI. 
 
 terseness with which that is put into words which has so 
 frequently been marked, in every one's own experience with 
 which that is said, which every one has seen. The latter is 
 the description under which comes the case before us. Every 
 day is the proverb verified ; and in a variety of ways : 
 
 1. He who conies first may give a statement which, in 
 some of its particulars, is false contrary to the actual facts 
 of the case. The falsehood of these particulars may not be 
 detected. The story, as told, may hang well together, being 
 made to wear a very imposing verisimilitude. It may look 
 so like truth, from its very consistency, that its plausibility 
 may almost force belief. But " his neighbour comes." He de- 
 tects and exposes what is untrue in the statement, and so 
 gives the account an entirely new and different aspect. 
 
 2. The statement may in no particular be false ; but it 
 may be partial; the truth being told, but not the whole 
 truth, Now, it is wonderful, how the leaving out of a single 
 circumstance, and one, perhaps, that appears in itself trivial, 
 often affects an entire narrative, altering its whole com- 
 plexion. The "neighbour comes;" he introduces what had 
 been concealed, and startles you by a surprisingly new view 
 of the matter. The insertion, in its appropriate place, of 
 the omitted fact constrains the instant exclamation "Ah! 
 that is very different quite another thing ! " 
 
 3. There may be additions as well as omissions. Some 
 new circumstance may be left out by the one, which is not 
 to be found in the account of the other. The "neighbour" 
 that " comes and searches," finds this addition, and throws it 
 out, and so produces as thorough a change as, in the for- 
 mer case, was produced by inserting what had been omitted. 
 
 4. There may be nothing false, and nothing partial that 
 is, all the particulars may be introduced, all the facts told, 
 and neither may there be any additions; but they may be 
 arranged, connected, and coloured, in different ways. In one 
 way of telling the story, prominence is given to some parti- 
 cular, which in the other account is indeed introduced, but 
 is represented as of little moment, and thrown very much 
 into the shade. In the different statements, this is before
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 1519. 195 
 
 that, and that is before this : and you can readily conceive 
 how the inversion of the order of facts, and of their relative 
 positions in regard to each other, their mutual dependencies 
 and casual relations, may produce two stories essentially 
 different. 
 
 The effect produced in this way on a narration may be 
 illustrated from the effect produced by grouping in a picture. 
 The very same set of objects may be in two different paint- 
 ings; but by their different arrangement or collocation, an 
 object being in the foreground of the one, large and distinct, 
 which, in the other, is thrown far back into the distance, 
 diminutive and hardly visible ; while some other object, which 
 was in the shade of diminutiveness, is brought forward into 
 magnitude and prominence, two pictures may be produced 
 as different as possible in appearance and effect. The same 
 thing might be illustrated from the different and even oppo- 
 site sentiments which may be brought out by changing the 
 collocation of the same set of words ; and by the difference 
 too of effect produced, without any change in the arrange- 
 ment of the words, by a change in the emphasis from one 
 word to another. 
 
 The colouring and grouping of the facts of the same story 
 may be the result of an intention to deceive and to produce 
 a false impression. Yet it is wonderful to what an extent 
 it may arise, almost unconsciously, from the secret influence 
 of self-love, wliich really makes the very same things appear 
 widely different, in their relative bearings and comparative 
 importance, to ourselves, from what they do to another; 
 even to a neutral party far more to an adversary. It has 
 become proverbial, that there are always two sides to a 
 story. 
 
 Let us see, then, what are the lessons of practice, deducible 
 from this : for we do nothing to purpose, when we merely 
 attend to the fact, as one of the characteristics of human na- 
 ture. There are lessons for parties in a cau*e, and lessons 
 for those who may be called to decide beticeen them. As to 
 the parlies, then let them learn, in the first place, not to be 
 too easily, hastily, touchily displeased and irritated by each
 
 196 LECTURE LI. 
 
 other's statements ; but mutually to make allowance for the 
 natural tendencies of self-regard to make the best of a case 
 for self, when there is no actual falsehood or obviously inten- 
 tionahnis- statement of facts. Let them further learn to avoid 
 bein<* unreasonably dissatisfied with those who hesitate, or 
 even refuse, to decide upon their single statement; remem- 
 bering the tendency just noticed to favour self, and how hard 
 they would esteem it, were the cause to be decided on the 
 single representation of the other party. Let them apply, 
 in this as in other cases, the great general law of equity 
 and love. 
 
 As to others, especially when called to form a judgment 
 between parties, let them learn to maintain a rigid and de- 
 termined adherence to the rule of hearing both sides before 
 ,l>,-;, ling. The rule should be regarded as indispensable, 
 even in the ordinary occurrences of everyday life : and it is 
 of special importance in exercising the functions of judges, 
 jurymen, arbitrators, and members of churches in cases of dis- 
 cipline. The judgment should be kept entirely in suspense, 
 till both sides have been fully heard. The first may "seem 
 right ; " but we must not allow not only our lips to pro- 
 nounce any decision, but even our minds to be prepossessed 
 by his statement, till we have called in "his neighbour" to 
 " search him." Not even the representation of the dearest, the 
 most confidential, upright, and best-principled friend on 
 earth should be taken at once, and without a hearing of the 
 other party. As self makes the very same things appear to 
 the opposite parties in different lights; as they see them 
 with different eyes, and through different mediums, how 
 under these different impressions, can their statements fail, 
 though both are ever so conscientious, to make correspond- 
 ingly different impressions on others 1 We may frequently 
 have cause to say, even to the friend in whose integrity we 
 place the most unbounded confidence, Really, dear friend, 
 you have taken too strong a view of this matter : the thing 
 does not seem to us to have been done or said in the spirit 
 in which it appeared to you to have been; nor can we re- 
 gard it as in itself possessing anything like the importance
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 15-19. 197 
 
 you ascribe to it, or calculated to produce the consequences 
 you apprehend from it. 
 
 We ought not to allow ourselves to be driven from a strict 
 adherence to this rule by any offence which either party, 
 that happens to come first, may be disposed to take at his 
 statement not being at once and unqualifiedly accepted. If 
 persons will be unreasonable, we cannot help it. "We may 
 endeavour to show them that we are not suspecting at all 
 their veracity; but, whether we succeed or not, we must 
 abide by our rule. Every man of sound sense and right 
 principle Avill be satisfied, on reflection, with the necessity of 
 an unswerving adherence to it ; from which he will feel, that 
 he has no more right to insist on his being an exception, 
 than another has. We are not commanded to have the same 
 confidence in the representations of one as in those of ano- 
 ther. Difference of known character may put this quite out 
 of the question. But in all cases, Hear both sides must be 
 our rule ; and the longer we live, we shall feel the duty the 
 more imperative of holding to it with unfailing constancy. 
 
 The subject of next verse we considered in a former lec- 
 ture :* " The lot causeth contentions to cease, and parteth 
 between the mighty." As the lot was had recourse to when 
 causes were such as admitted not of determination otherwise, 
 there seems to be a natural enough relation of suggestion 
 between this verse and the preceding. In cases when repre- 
 sentations differed, and the evidence between them was such 
 as to leave it impossible to say certainly on which side was 
 the preponderance; or when the parties would not submit 
 to arbitration ; or when they were too powerful to be safely 
 meddled with; then "the lot caused contentions to cease, 
 and parted between the mighty"." 
 
 Perhaps it might not be amiss if " wars and fightings," 
 from which such an amount of misery and all evil is ever 
 arising, were to be prevented in a similar way, both between 
 individuals and nations : unless as arbitration ought to be 
 resorted to by individuals, when they cannot come to an 
 
 * Chap. xvi. 33.
 
 198 LECTURE LI, 
 
 agreement themselves there might be instituted, on the 
 principles of national honour and good faith, some great 
 general tribunal of appeal for the countries and governments 
 of Europe, whose decision, in cases of international differen- 
 ces, should, by mutual convention, be binding, and to winch 
 such differences might be referred. 
 
 I must not leave this subject without an additional re- 
 mark or two, especially to my younger hearers. I formerly 
 offered a few observations on "chance games" in connexion 
 with this subject. These, I have some reason to think, have 
 not, in some quarters, been rightly understood. I have been 
 represented as not condemning such games. Now, if I heard of 
 a youth saying, in these terms or in the spirit of them " Oh ! 
 the minister tells us that cards are not the devil's books they 
 have been called ; that there is, after all, no harm in them," 
 I should tremble for that youth. I should fear he had 
 contracted, or is in course of contracting, a liking for such 
 play. Should the simple expression of a sentiment respect^ 
 ing the abstract evil of "games of chance" as such, take off 
 from his mind any portion of the salutary restraint which I 
 am anxious he should feel, bitterly should I mourn his delu- 
 sion. Let such a youth recollect, that they have deceived 
 and ruined many a precious soul; that they have dissipated 
 many a fortune, and turned, in ten thousand instances, 
 plenty to beggary, freedom to a jail, life, health and vigour 
 to emaciation and the grave ; that they are marks of a 
 worldly character; that they do stir up the worst passions 
 of the heart; and that they have covered many a fair 
 character with infamy: and let him tremble when he 
 ventures on such ground. beware of beginnings ! You 
 only show inexperience, and ignorance of yourselves, if 
 you fancy you are sure of never going beyond a given 
 limit. Small stakes lead to greater. Losses themselves se- 
 duce onward by the hope of retrieving. The meshes of the 
 net entangle the feet more and more inextricably. Temp- 
 tation presses on temptation. Dishonesty, and pilfering, 
 and mayhap forgery, supplies the exhausted purse. The 
 horrors of an evil conscience are drowned in intemperance
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 1519. 199 
 
 and dissipation. The conscience becomes seared. Health 
 gives way. Character and confidence and credit are lost. 
 Phrenzy tempts to self-destruction, or the body pines to the 
 dust, and the soul sinks into perdition. Who are they, let 
 me ask you, among the young people you know, that indulge 
 in play in the various species of gambling? Are they the 
 sober, the virtuous, the godly? or are they the idle, the dis- 
 sipated, the profligate, the worldly, the reckless of God and 
 of eternity? The youth who joins himself to such, or who 
 begins to look favourably on any of their ways is in im- 
 minent peril He is on the verge of a precipice. He is on 
 the way, it may be, to the gaming-table and to hell. Let 
 him start and turn, ere it be too late, as he values his 
 everlasting happiness. And I affectionately beseech you, let 
 not your perdition, by your misunderstanding or perverting 
 any sentiment of mine, be traceable, even were it but as the 
 innocent occasion, to me! 
 
 Verse 19. "A brother offended is harder to be won than 
 a strong city; and their contentions are like the bars of a 
 castle." The word offended signifies here, evidently, pro- 
 voked, roused to resentment. And the words imply, that 
 when a brother is thus offended, the resentment is more vio- 
 lent, and the reconciliation more hard to be effected, than 
 where the difference is with a stranger. And so it is 
 whether the offence be without just ground, or with it. I 
 might refer to the cases of Cain and Abel ; of Joseph and his 
 brethren ; of Absalom and Amnon ; of Esau and Jacob. In 
 each of these cases, nothing short of death was plotted and 
 resolved. The verse seems to point chiefly to cases of of- 
 fence given; and the words contain a caution against offend- 
 ing, as well as against 'being offended. It is supposed, how- 
 ever, that offence has actually been taken as well as given. 
 Unbrotherly conduct; ungrateful returns for favours be- 
 stowed, for efforts and sacrifices made, to promote a bro- 
 ther's interests ; a course perhaps of provocation long borne 
 with, the irritating and offensive conduct often passed over, 
 and as often repeated, has led at last to a rupture : patience 
 and forbearance have been worn out, and anger and aliena-
 
 200 LECTURE LI. 
 
 tion substituted for long-suffering affection. "A brother" 
 thus "offended is harder to be won than a strong city; and 
 their contentions are like the bars of a castle." 
 
 The matter of fact is here stated and there are natural 
 enough reasons to account for it. More is justly expected 
 from a brother than from a stranger more of affection, gra- 
 titude, kindly treatment, fidelity and trustworthiness. When 
 such expectations are disappointed, the wound in the spirit 
 is proportionally deeper, and more difficult of healing, the 
 breach wider, and harder of being made up. Besides, the 
 slower a person is to take offence, the longer he forbears, 
 the more he forgives, the more difficult it is fairly to over- 
 come the yearnings of affection, and break the bonds of bro- 
 therhood, the more inveterate may the spirit of resentment 
 be; the more sullen and distant the alienation, when it is 
 actually produced. The offended brother cannot get the bet- 
 ter of it. He broods over it ; and the more he broods, the 
 more he feels. The more he reflects on the offender's vio- 
 lated obligations, the more aggravated does his culpability 
 appear. He looks, and justly, for acknowledgment; while 
 the offender, possibly, thinks the less, instead of the more, 
 of his offence, because it is only a brother against whom it 
 has been committed, and is apt to expect forgiveness without 
 acknowledgment. Thus, on both sides, there is too much of 
 stern unbending pride ; and continued distance widens more 
 and more, instead of diminishing. 
 
 Persons are in danger of taking undue advantage of their 
 near relationships, and of using unaccountable liberties; oi 
 forming and cherishing the most extravagant expectations, 
 insisting on their fulfilment, and absurdly and pertinaciously 
 resenting their refusal ; of doing to a brother what they 
 never would think of doing to another person. They forget, 
 that to use a brother ill is worse than the same ill-usage to 
 a stranger. It is strongly felt to be so ; and when mutual 
 alienation has actually taken place ; when brother has cut 
 brother; when intercourse is suspended, their doors re- 
 spectively closed against each other ; and when, if they have 
 families, these make the quarrel their own, each taking part with
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 1519. 201 
 
 him whom they regard as their injured husband and parent ; 
 the spectacle is indeed a sad one. And, as each, instead of 
 feeling the duty of himself giving in, or being the first to at- 
 tempt a reconciliation, looks for the first step from the other 
 side, and cannot bring himself down to make the first ad- 
 vances, (0 false and unworthy pride !) the castle-bars remain 
 undrawn ; and, rusting in their hold, become more and more 
 difficult to force open: and the unseemly contentions 
 the unhappy and mischievous feuds pass doAvn from genera- 
 tion to generation! 
 
 It is not always thus. The grace of God ought, in all its 
 subjects, to prevent such breaches ; and, if unhappily they 
 have at any time taken place, it should have power to heal 
 the wounds, to draw heart again to heart, to unfasten "the 
 bars," and open the gates of mutual reconciliation : " The 
 wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gen- 
 tle, and easy to be entreated." 
 
 Christians are brethren. They are members of one fami- 
 ly. It becomes them to love and live as brethren; to be 
 slow to give, and slow to take, offence ; to be humble, and 
 ready to pardon ; to delight in reconciliation and peace 
 themselves, and in successfully mediating, and making peace 
 between others. The gospel is the gospel of peace ; of love ; 
 of forgiveness ; of harmony between God and men, and be- 
 tween all who are reconciled to God and to one another 
 through the blood of the covenant. Their "bars" should be 
 those which shut out causes of offence, and will give no admis- 
 sion to the demons of discord. " Behold, how good and how 
 pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity ! It is 
 like the precious ointment upon the head, that ran down 
 upon the beard, even Aaron's beard : that went down to the 
 skirts of his garments; as the dew of Hennon, and as the 
 dew that descended upon the mountains of Zion : for there 
 the Lord commanded the blessing, even life for evermore ! " 
 Ps. cxxxiii.
 
 LECTURE LTI, 
 
 PROV. xvin. 20 24. 
 
 " A man's belly shall be satisfied with the fruit of his mouth; and with tl>e 
 increase of his lips shall he be filled. Death and life are in the power of tlie 
 tongue; and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof. Whoso findeth a wife 
 findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord. The poor useth entrea- 
 ties: but the rich answereth roughly. A man that hath friends must show 
 himself friendly : and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother." 
 
 IT is evident that in this passage " the fntit of the mouth" 
 and " the increase of the lips" mean the same tiling namely, 
 that which the mouth and the lips utter, the nature of their 
 customary communications. And the general sentiment con- 
 veyed by both clauses of the twentieth verse is, that the 
 effects, or results, will correspond with the kind of "fruit" 
 thus produced ; or, in other words, with the general style and 
 character of a man's conversation. It shall be so amongst 
 men in the intercourse of social life : a man will be re- 
 spected according to the wisdom, trusted according to the 
 truth, beloved according to the sweetness and benevolence, 
 of "the fruit of his mouth;" whereas foolish talk will pro- 
 cure contempt; the utterance of falsehood distrust; harsh, 
 austere, and haughty words dislike and aversion. 
 
 There is a sense in which we may understand the lan- 
 guage, even taking the former clause of the twentieth verse 
 literally " A man's belly shall be satisfied with the fruit 
 of his mouth." You may smile and say, A man cannot 
 live upon words ! Very true. But the way in which a man 
 uses his lips and his tongue, as the organs of speech, may 
 contribute not a little to his getting, or his failing to get,
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 2024. 203 
 
 "the meat that perisheth." I mean not that any of you 
 should, in the slightest degree, try to work your way in life 
 by words of flattery: but when a man's general conversa- 
 tion is such as to procure for him a character for discretion, 
 courtesy, gratitude, straightforward integrity and trustworthi- 
 ness, this may surely contribute, eminently and directly, 
 to the temporal sustenance and comfort of the man himself 
 and his family: while an opposite style of intercourse may 
 tend to penury and starvation. A man may, in various 
 ways, make his "lips" the instrument of either want on the 
 one hand, or plenty on the other. 
 
 It must have been observed, however, by careful readers 
 of the Bible, that the belly sometimes stands for the inward 
 parts the mind, the conscience, the heart; just as the 
 bowels do for the compassionate sympathies* In this verse, 
 then, the words may mean that a man's inward satisfaction 
 or the contrary, shall arise from "the fruit of his mouth." 
 His conscience shall have peace, his heart true enjoyment. 
 According to the excellence of a man's words according as 
 they tend to righteousness or unrighteousness, to good or 
 evil, to the glory of God or his dishonour, will be the in- 
 ward satisfaction or the inward bitterness of spirit with 
 which the man is "filled:" with which he is filled now, and 
 with which he shall be filled for ever.t In this highest 
 sense, then, "death and life are in the power of the tongue." 
 The dutiful, or the wayward and rebellious use of it may 
 tell effectually on the "death" or the "life" of eternity. 
 The words, at the same time, are strikingly true as to the 
 effects of the tongue upon others. One word of perjury or 
 falsehood may consign an innocent man to "death," or obtain 
 unmerited "life" to one who is guilty: so too, in different 
 circumstances, may one word of truth. One word of slander 
 may go far to break a sensitive man's heart, and send him 
 pining to the grave ; while one word of comfort and merited 
 
 * See, among various examples, chap. xx. 27. The belly is evi- 
 dently the whole inner man: John vii. 38. " Out of his belly " 
 means simply from within. 
 
 f See Matt." xii. 3337.
 
 204 LECTURE LII. 
 
 commendation may bring up and cheer into new life the 
 sinking spirit of despondency. And so all the intermediate 
 stages, between the full sweetness of life and the wormwood 
 bitterness of death, are capable of being affected, to a large 
 extent, by " the tongue" 
 
 What has been applied to the testimony of a witness, - 
 to the verdict of a jury, to the sentence of a judge, bears 
 a still higher and stronger application to the preaching of 
 error and of truth. Well may it be said Jiere, that "death 
 and life are in the power of the tongue." According as it 
 gives utterance to the one or to the other, it may send souls 
 to hell or to heaven, sealing them in spiritual "death," or 
 quickening them to spiritual "life." Oh! how solicitous 
 should this consideration make public teachers to be sure 
 that their lips utter nothing but the truth of God; what 
 shall be " for edification and not for destruction," for " life," 
 and not for " death ! " 
 
 The latter clause of the twenty-first verse is somewhat 
 ambiguous: "And they that love it shall eat the fruit 
 thereof" By one translator the words are rendered " They 
 who indulge it." If this be the kind of "love" that is meant, 
 then the indulgence of the tongue is probably, we may al- 
 most say certainly, intended for its evil indulgence ; its na- 
 tural tendency, according to Solomon, being to evil, and 
 requiring constant vigilance and restraint. We may remark, 
 however, that love operates in two ways wisely and fool- 
 ishly. Thus it is with parents. He who loves his children 
 wisely, will restrain them ; he who loves them foolishly, will 
 indulge them. If we only take the love of the tongue in a 
 similar way, we shall have again the two opposite descrip- 
 tions of results. The wise love of the tongue will lay it ever 
 under salutary restraint, withholding it, by a firm coercion, 
 from the utterance of what is evil, and would recoil in mis- 
 chief on itself and its owner : the foolish love of the tongue 
 will give it unbridled license, allowing it, like a spoiled 
 child, to have all its own way : and according to the one 
 course or the other, will the fruits be sweet or bitter, life- 
 giving or deadly. (James iii. 5 10.)
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 2024. 205 
 
 Verse 22. "Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, 
 and obtaineth favour of the Lord." Nothing can be more 
 manifest than that this cannot be meant indiscriminately of 
 all who may happen to sustain the relation. In the Septu- 
 agint we have it a good wife. The Vulgate has the same 
 supplement, though the form of expression varies. So 
 also in the Syriac. Matthew Henry says "a bad wife 
 does not deserve to be called by a name of so much honour." 
 The wife meant is evidently such a one as answers to the 
 design of the original institution of the marriage relation, 
 and is a "helpmeet" for her husband.* It is such a wife as 
 Solomon himself describes in the last chapter of this book, 
 where he gives her full-length portraiture. And he there 
 represents the character as one that is far from being very 
 easily found, a precious jewel, and precious by its very 
 rarity. Observe 
 
 1. We may regard the words as associated in Solomon's 
 mind with the wretched and ruinous tendency of that sin 
 which is so strongly condemned, and against which the ris- 
 ing youth are so emphatically, so repeatedly, and so affec- 
 tionately warned.t Of how many thousands and tens of 
 thousands has that sin been the temptation and the destruc- 
 tion ! Blessed, then blessed of God is he who escapes 
 the snare ; who gives his heart to one object of virtuous and 
 fond attachment; whom such early affection and conjugal 
 union are the means of saving from temptation, vice, and 
 ruin; who "lives joyfully with the wife of his youth;" who 
 "drinks water out of his own cistern, and springing water 
 out of his own well ; " who, contemning the maxims of a vain 
 world, which would demand a style of starting in life beyond 
 his means, resolves, with the prudent partner of his heart's 
 choice, to set out happily together, in the spirit of contented 
 moderation! Where there are the means at all of anything 
 like comfortable subsistence, there is not a more desirable 
 preservative from personal and diffusive vice, than early 
 wedlock. 
 
 * Gen. ii. 18, 2124. -f Chap, v 713.
 
 206 LECTURE LIT. 
 
 2. Solomon, you will observe, recognises here the original 
 law of marriage. He speaks of one wife, and only one. He 
 had, in this point, grievously transgressed himself Had 
 Solomon " found a wife," instead of crowding a seraglio with 
 hundreds, he would have experienced the truth of his own 
 saying he would have " found a good thing, and have ob- 
 tained favour of the Lord." By acting otherwise, in " the 
 days of his vanity," he was led fearfully astray; his "heart 
 departed from the Lord;" and the Lord withdrew His favour 
 from him, and raised up against him the agents of His 
 avenging jealousy. It was, moreover, by the course which 
 he pursued that he failed to find the "good thing" which he 
 here commends, a wife that could make him happy. Mark 
 the record of his experience " One man among a thousand 
 have I found; but a woman among all those have I not 
 found." Was it any wonder? No, verily. He took the 
 worst way possible to find a virtuous, worthy, female char- 
 acter. What woman of reputation would choose to be found 
 in such company? 
 
 I believe every departure from the original law, without 
 exception, by whomsoever practised, was sinful ; and in all 
 cases, the fruits were bitter. Patriarchs, and judges, and 
 kings broke the law; and good men and bad alike suffered 
 for it. Jesus, in instituting the Christian law on this sub- 
 ject, only re-affirms what was the law from the beginning. 
 And it is only when that law is attended to, and the union 
 of two hearts maintained with the devotedness of conjugal 
 fidelity, that the full meaning of the verse before us can ever 
 be experienced. 
 
 3. Such being the law of God, and the laws of European 
 countries being in harmony with it, few things are more 
 wonderful than the reckless inconsideration with which the 
 choice is often made of a partner for life. How little con- 
 sideration is there, in multitudes of cases, of what is so essen- 
 tial to social happiness, congruity of principles, of tempers 
 and dispositions, of objects of pursuit and sources of enjoy- 
 ment ! In how many instances is it the purse that is wed- 
 ded, not the person! in how many the person, merely as
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 2024. 207 
 
 respects bodily appearance, not mental or moral character ! 
 and in how many is it a rash and heedless risk, indepen- 
 dently of all serious attention to character or grounds of pro- 
 mise for future concord and happiness ; or, if there is any- 
 thing that seems ominous of the contrary, a self-flattering 
 assurance that it will be done away afterwards ! Marriage 
 was the institution of a kind and benevolent God. It was 
 meant for the happiness of His creatures. When formed 
 and maintained on right principles, it answers, in an eminent 
 degree, its original intention. It is not the fault of the in- 
 stitute, nor of the God with whom it originated, that in any 
 case it is not so formed; or that, when formed otherwise, it 
 fails of yielding what it was meant to confer. I am fully 
 persuaded that nineteen-twentieths of the failures complained 
 of have their caiises in the " unequal yokings" of the parties : 
 and for these, unless in cases of extraordinary previous 
 simulation, who but the parties themselves are to blame? 
 And on this topic 
 
 4. Let the duty be specially noticed, on the part of be- 
 lievers, that they marry "in the Lord" I might trace the 
 history of the conjugal relation from the beginning, and 
 show you how mischievous and fatal, in regard to the spir- 
 itual character of individuals and communities of God's pro- 
 fessing people, has been the disregard of this restriction. I 
 might show you, in a variety of particulars, both in regard 
 to the parties themselves and to rising families, the reasona- 
 bleness of the restriction. The law is expressly laid down 
 in 1 Cor. vii. 39. The case, indeed, is of such a nature, 
 that a law should not have been necessary. Christians 
 might well have been expected to be, on such a subject, "a 
 law unto themselves." It ought to be a proposition of self- 
 evident truth, that to a believer, an unbelieving wife, or an 
 unbelieving husband, can never be "a good tiling ;" and that 
 for such a one to look for " favour of the Lord" in the very 
 act of violating His will, is a very vain and a very presump- 
 tuous expectation. A wife may have all other qualifications 
 a man can well desire; she may be wealthy, beautiful, well- 
 connected, accomplished, prudent, and even in natural tern-
 
 208 LECTURE LII. 
 
 per amiable : yet still, with all this, what a want must 
 be felt, when there is no coincidence of principle, of feeling, 
 of desire, of pursuit, of prospect, on the most important and 
 interesting of all subjects no union of heart in spiritual 
 affection, in prayer, in converse, in domestic education, and 
 in the anticipations of hope ! Such union ought to be re- 
 garded by all believers as primary and indispensable. At 
 the same time, in itself it may not always be enough. There 
 may be agreement in religious principles, while yet, in not a 
 few points, there may be a want of congruity too great to 
 render happiness very likely. 
 
 The choice ought, in all cases, to be a matter of very se- 
 rious deliberation; and, with Christians, of earnest prayer. 
 If a " prudent wife is from the Lord," from the Lord should 
 such a wife be sought. It is itself a favour from the Lord ; 
 and it brings His favour along with it. In every stage of 
 such a union, it has the smile and the blessing of heaven. 
 Few sights are more lovely, or more full of interest, than 
 that of a youthful pair, setting out in life together, united 
 by the bond of virtuous, tender, and fervent love; and 
 their intercourse hallowed, sweetened, and beautified by the 
 sacred influence of Christian piety ; when the bond of grace 
 is intertwined with that of nature, each adding its strength 
 to the other. And then what sight in the world more de- 
 lightful, than that of a family, the result of such an union, 
 trained for God, " brought up in the nurture and admo- 
 nition of the Lord," early manifesting the happy influence 
 of i-eligious instruction; all mutually affectionate, all cheer- 
 ful, their hearts beating in unison in the sympathy of one 
 another's joys and sorrows ; and all living in the pleasing 
 though pensive hope, that though they must part on earth, 
 they shall meet in heaven ! This is indeed a sight on which 
 the eye rests with beaming delight, lovely as the very 
 bowers of Eden, grateful to the feelings as a garden of 
 spices. And this too is "from the Lord," even -the invalua- 
 ble blessing first in the list of all earthly joys, the bless- 
 ing of domestic happiness. (Ps. cxxviii.) \or must we stop 
 here. We must look to the end as well as the beginning.
 
 PROVERBS XVIII . 2042. * 209 
 
 Think of an aged pair, who have journeyed together through 
 a long pilgrimage, sharing the joys and the sorrows of their 
 common lot, and, by the sympathy of love, doubling the one 
 and dividing the other, " heirs together . of the grace of 
 life," bound together and mutually endeared by the faith 
 of Christ and the hope of heaven! Their children have 
 risen up, and call them blessed. And at the close of their 
 long day of life, the shadows of the evening are gently 
 lengthened out, and they sleep together in peace ! How de- 
 lightful to think of those who have been one in life, being 
 one in death, and one for ever ! one even in that happy 
 world, where they "neither -marry nor are given in marriage, 
 but are as the angels of God in heaven." I would fain not 
 reverse the picture ; but, as a further inducement to Chris- 
 tians to beware of all "unequal yoking with unbelievers," 
 affectionate faithfulness obliges me to add how sad, how 
 agonizing the thought of an eternal separation of parting 
 for ever ! .What a pang of unutterable anguish must that 
 be, with which a man follows to the grave, and deposits 
 there, the remains of one respecting whom he has no good 
 reason to believe that she was united to Christ! "With 
 what a knell of agony must the sound of the shovelled 
 earth come upon his heart, that covers from his sight "the 
 desire of his eyes," the companion of his life, when the con- 
 solation of the "sure and certain hope" is a stranger to his 
 bosom ! never again to meet, save only where the seal of 
 eternity shall be put upon their separation! 
 
 Verse 23. "The poor useth entreaties: but the rich an- 
 swereth roughly." This is one of those general sayings 
 which express rather tendency and frequency than univer- 
 sality. There are many exceptions to both sides of the 
 statement. The poor are sometimes insolent, and the rich 
 gentle and kind. But, generally speaking, although pride 
 belongs to our fallen nature, and is to be found in the poor 
 as well as in the rich, yet necessity is still stronger in its 
 demands. The poor are fain to master their feelings of pride ; 
 they must " use entreaties" and persist in using them, even 
 amidst many refusals. The tendency of riches again, and their 
 
 IT. O
 
 210 LECTURE LI I. 
 
 too frequent effect, is, to engender in their possessors a feeling 
 of superiority, a supercilious haughtiness, and a harshness of 
 manner and of language to their inferiors. Arid I think it 
 may be observed with truth, that the temptation to this is 
 strongest, and the fact most frequently to be Avitnessed, in 
 those who have risen, or are rising to affluence from com- 
 parative poverty. It is among that class that the greatest 
 amount of that- most pitiful of all principles is to be found 
 purse-pride. We have an instance at once of the humble, 
 necessitous entreaty of the poor, and an instance of exception 
 to the haughty roughness of the rich, in Ruth and in Boaz.* 
 On the other hand, an example of purse-proud surliness is 
 to be seen in the character of Xabal;t and we have the 
 entreaty of felt dependence, and the harsh severity of lordly 
 insolence, in the case of the oppressed Israelites and the 
 merciless king of Egypt. J The rich are not here justified 
 in treating with insolent roughness the entreaties of the 
 poor. Far from it. The poor are entitled to sympathy and 
 kindness, both in speech and in behaviour. It is enough 
 that providence has visited them with privation, and the 
 humiliation of dependence, without advantage being taken 
 of their circumstances to crush the fallen, and add insult to 
 suffering. There may be cases of poverty which require to 
 be treated with firmness, and with steady refusal; but not 
 on account of the poverty, but of the character with which it 
 is associated. There is a manner even of giving to the poor 
 of answering their entreaties by an alms, which, to a 
 mind of sensibility, (and the poor have their sensibilities as 
 well as their betters in station) takes off half the value of 
 the benefaction. The alms are given with a churlish rebuff ; 
 it is a "rough answer" after all. The very refusal of kind- 
 ness when circumstances necessitate it, may be far less 
 offensive than the very alms of unfeeling and gratuitous 
 rudeness. 
 
 In one sense, we are all poor all dependent having 
 nothing that we can call our own. We must " use entrea- 
 
 * See Ruth jj. 713. f 1 Sam. xxv. 10, 11. * Ex. v. 1318.
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 2024. 211 
 
 ties." God has made this our duty. And when we come 
 before Him, in the true spirit of dependence, and plead as 
 He prescribes, we may rest assured, we shall never be " an- 
 swered roughly" there. The Proprietor of the universe "has 
 respect unto the lowly ; " he is the friend and patron of the 
 poor. " The poor committeth himself unto thee ; thou art 
 the helper of the fatherless ; " and no poor, dependent, sup- 
 pliant does He ever " send empty away." He says to all, in 
 the accents of inviting condescension and kindness " Open 
 thy mouth wide, and I will fill it." " The same Lord over 
 all is rich unto all that call upon him." The rich should in 
 this "imitate God." They are never so truly dignified, as when 
 they treat those beneath them with kind and courteous affa- 
 bility, and make the poor, instead of cowering under their 
 scowl, feel at ease in their presence; taking off the pain of 
 dependence by the grace of generous benignity. 
 
 Verse 24. "A man that hath friends must shew himself 
 friendly : and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a 
 brother." Friends are persons who, from congruity of char- 
 aclfcr, are mutually attached to each other in close and bene- 
 volent intimacy. In this verse, the man is supposed to have 
 friends : and it contains a lesson how to retain them, and a 
 motive to so doing. 
 
 1. The lesson is one of consistency. Towards those 
 whom we call by the endearing designation of friends, 
 friendly dispositions must be shown in a corresponding be- 
 haviour. If the " man who has friends" treats those whom 
 he so calls with coldness, reserve, and distance ; and still 
 more, if he goes beyond this, and adds neglect and selfish 
 injury ; he has nothing to expect but the forfeiture of friend- 
 ship on their part. He constitutes himself unworthy of its 
 blessings. He may complain of his friends having forsaken 
 him ; whereas he has no right of complaint. The cause is 
 in himself ; the fault his own. He has put them away 
 driven them off by wrong, or allowed them to drop off by 
 neglect. And if, having thus lost them by his own fault 
 when he did not feel his need of them, he comes afterwards 
 to experience such need and to be sensible of the want of
 
 212 LECTURE LI I. 
 
 them, who is to blame but himself? If those whom he has 
 thus disfranchised from the obligations of friendship do then 
 take compassion upon him, feel the renewed yearnings of 
 old attachment, and spontaneously offer their restored intima- 
 cy and kind services, they act nobly; but he has not to. thank 
 himself for it. All friendships must, from their very 
 nature, be, on both sides, voluntary; and founded not in 
 circumstances or condition merely, but in character, in har- 
 mony of mind and heart, in reciprocal esteem and love. If 
 a man, on rising in the world, makes those who before were 
 his friends feel themselves inferiors and dependents, friend- 
 ship is at an end. If they choose to resign the position of 
 friends and to alloAv themselves to be regarded as pensioners, 
 or as hangers-on upon his condescension, they may. But 
 if, with a becoming spirit of self-respect, they decline ex- 
 changing the equality of friendship for the position of obse- 
 quious debtors to a lofty condescension, the blame lies, not 
 with them, but with him who has virtually discarded them. 
 There are few things more wounding to the spirit than the 
 failure of those who have called themselves our friearis. 
 We may bear long with their seeming neglect or inconsistent 
 dealings, finding excuses for them, and anxious to retain 
 them. But there are limits to such good-natured forbear- 
 ance ; even to the charity which " believeth and h'opeth all 
 things." " The man who has friends" must, if he would 
 keep them, " show himself friendly." We have then 
 
 2. A motive to the keeping of them : " and tliere is a 
 friend that sticketh closer than a brother." " The friend 
 that sticketh closer than a brother," has with many become 
 a favourite designation of the Saviour the blessed Jesus ; 
 so that they use it, as if, in the Bible, it had really been 
 meant of him. Now, it is true of him; no designation 
 could be more appropriate. He is " the sinner's friend." 
 He expressly calls his people friends; and he founds the 
 designation on the intimacy of his communications with 
 them.* And in this relation he is constant and consistent 
 
 * John xv. 13 15.
 
 PROVERBS XVIII. 2024. 213 
 
 "the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever" "whom he 
 loves, loving unto the -end," and in every step of his con- 
 duct towards them acting in uniform congruity with his 
 character and the claims of the graciously assumed relation. 
 
 I need hardly say, however, that there is no such refer- 
 ence in the proverbial saying before us : of which the 
 obvious meaning is that there have been friendships of 
 which the bond has proved itself stronger and more tena- 
 cious than even that of natural affection. It has withstood 
 the tuggings and wrenchings of severer trials of its strength 
 and tenacity. Friends have remained fast in their friend- 
 ship when brothers themselves have parted. This has espe- 
 cially been the case, when the friendship has been cemented 
 by grace, by the tie of a common faith, common sensibili- 
 ties, and a common hope in matters of religion, compared 
 with other relations when without this bond. Such was the 
 friendship, formerly adverted to, between David and Jona- 
 than. It was, on Jonathan's part, severely tried, put to 
 tests before which fraternal affection would, in many instan- 
 ces, have given way: but "Jonathan loved David even as 
 his own soul;" and David, in his pathetic and touching la- 
 ment over 'his Mend " fallen in battle," exclaims " I am 
 distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan : very pleasant hast 
 thou been unto me: thy love to me was wonderful, passing 
 the love of women." 
 
 The preciousness of such friendships has ever been felt, 
 and has been the theme of story and of song. Life has been 
 made a sacrifice on the altar of faithful friendship. It is 
 unspeakably valuable; to have a heart on which you can 
 repose, with confidence of tender interest, your most secret 
 solicitudes and desires, and from which you receive a return 
 of the same confiding love. What a support in trial ! what 
 a stimulus in duty ! what a guide in difficulty ! what a 
 solace in despondency ! what a zest and relish of every joy ! 
 
 " Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss 
 
 Hath made my cup run o'er; 
 
 And in a kind and faithful friend 
 
 Hath doubled all my store."
 
 214 LECTURE LII. 
 
 If such be the sacredness, the intimacy, the pleasure, and 
 the permanence, of true friendship ; with what gratitude 
 should we bless the name of our gracious Lord, for having 
 assumed this relation to his people ! "calling them friends !" 
 He afforded the highest evidence that the designation was 
 not with him a name without a meaning : He "gave his life 
 for his friends." And what is his promise to them now? 
 the promise of faithful friendship of a love which " many 
 waters could not quench, nor the floods drown?" It is one 
 which comprehends in it all that they can wish all that 
 they can heed : " I will never leave thee ; I will never for- 
 sake thee!" To have an interest- in His friendship, is to be 
 honoured and blessed indeed ! 
 
 Let the feeling of holy friendship be mutually cultivated 
 among the followers of " the friend of sinners," friendship, 
 " not in word and tongue only, but in deed and in truth," 
 friendship practical and self-denying. He who " gave his 
 life for his friends " teaches those friends to be ready to give 
 their lives for each other : " Hereby perceive we the love 
 of God, because he laid down his life for us : and we ought 
 to lay down our lives for the brethren." 
 
 let all, if they would be truly and permanently happy, 
 choose the friendship of Christ and of God, and cast in their 
 lot with God's people. The right hand of divine friendship is 
 held out to every one of you. The voice of the gospel in 
 the name of Him " in whom God reconciles the world unto 
 himself" is "Be ye reconciled unto- God !" and all God's 
 people, with one heart and one soul, unite in saying to you 
 " Come with us, and we will do you good : for the Lord 
 hath spoken good concerning Israel"
 
 LECTURE LIII, 
 
 PROV. xix. 1 3. 
 
 ' Better is' the poor that walketh in his integrity, than he that is perverse in 
 his lips, and is a fool. Also, that the soul be without knowledge, it is not good; 
 and he that hasteth with his feet sinneth. The foolishness of man perverteth 
 his way; and his heart fretteth against the Lord." 
 
 THE fool, being here opposed, not only to him " that walketh 
 in his integrity," but to "tfie poor" that so walketh, is evi- 
 dently intended to be regarded as occupying a superior sta- 
 tion as wealthy. The sentiment, then, is, that the pious 
 and upright poor man " is better" than the perverse and 
 foolish rich man. 
 
 1. He "is better" as a man. He is so, because more 
 truly estimable and honourable. It should be a settled max 
 im and with all that are wise it is that character is 
 the true dignity of man, and the want of it his true dis- 
 grace. He is to be estimated, not by what he has, but by 
 what he is. That which is merely extraneous is not the 
 man. Moral and spiritual excellence dignifies human na.- 
 ture, and ennobles the possessor of it, with whatever external 
 condition it be found in union. An enlightened mind and a 
 renewed heart are the true glory of our nature "the best style 
 of man:" and the poorest, with these, is "better," in real 
 respectability and solid worth, than the richest without them. 
 
 He "is better," also as a man, because more truly happy. 
 He carries the constituent elements of happiness within him. 
 They are, as it were, a part of himself. They cannot, there- 
 fore, be alienated. They are like the "treasures in heaven,"
 
 216 LECTURE LI 1 1. 
 
 which " no thieves can break through to steal." They lie 
 in the heart, and no "stranger" can "intermeddle" with them. 
 His inward peace and satisfaction, incomparably surpass, both 
 as to intrinsic value and abiding security, all that wealth and 
 rank and worldly honour can ever yield. 
 
 2. He is better as a member of society. He is more 
 useful, and therefore more valuable. The "perverse" and 
 "foolish" exert an influence most pernicious and lamentable. 
 The tendency of their example is to corruption and degra- 
 dation; and thus to all that is fitted to prevent, instead of 
 promoting true happiness. And the higher his station, and 
 the more commanding his wealth, the contagion of his char- 
 acter becomes only the more diffusive and the more virulent. 
 "Better" far better, in this respect, "is the poor that walk- 
 eth in his integrity" diffusing around him, in the sphere 
 in which his lot is cast, an antiseptic virtue, counteracting 
 evil and promoting good. And, as -the stability, prosperity, 
 and happiness of a nation depend so much on the character 
 of the working classes, who form, as it were, the extended 
 base of the social pyramid, he is the best patriot who most 
 effectually advances the knowledge, the religion, and the 
 virtue of these classes; who most effectually contributes to 
 multiply the number of those who, in the lower departments 
 of life, "walk in their integrity." The "perverse lips" and 
 the perverse life of the unprincipled fool do incomparably 
 more harm to society, 'than his wealth can ever do it good. 
 An augmentation of wealth is not always, either to indivi- 
 duals or to nations, an augmentation of happiness. Too 
 often has it proved the very reverse the sapping and un- 
 dermining of the individual's and the nation's well-being, 
 instability and downfall having many a time dated their 
 commencement, and graduated their progress, from the en- 
 trance and accumulation of unwonted Avealth and luxury. 
 
 Ye upright and godly poor, "hold fast yoxir integrity!" 
 let nothing prevail with you to forfeit your inward peace ! 
 Stoop not to the use of any means to better your situation, 
 by which you would be deprived of this. How great soever 
 your success, your loss would be far greater than your gain.
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 13. 217 
 
 Poverty is no disparagement ; dishonest} 7 is. Cost, then, 
 what it may, keep your character ; keep your honour ; keep 
 your conscience; keep your assurance of God's love; keep 
 your hope of God's glory. " Cast not away," for any earthly 
 consideration, " your confidence, which hath great recompense 
 of reward." 
 
 Verse 2. " Also, that the *soul be without knowledge, it is 
 not good; and he that hasteth with his feet sinneth." The 
 connexion of the two clauses of this verse has led critics to 
 attach different senses to the word knowledge in the former, 
 and has given rise to various translations, to convey what 
 each has conceived to be the sense : " It is not good for 
 the soul to be without caution; for he that hasteth with his 
 feet sinneth : " " Quickness of action, without prudence of 
 spirit, is not good; for he that hasteth with his feet sin- 
 neth : " " Fervent zeal, without prudence, is not good ; for 
 he that hasteth with his feet sinneth:" "Ignorance of 
 one's-self is not good; and he that is hasty of foot sinneth." 
 These various free renderings (for such they are) express, 
 respectively, correct sentiments, truths, and truths of prac- 
 tical value. But there does not appear the least necessity 
 for any alteration of the received version. It is quite suffi- 
 ciently confirmed by experience, that the tendency, not of 
 se(/-ignorance alone, but of ignorance in general, is to pro- 
 duce that "hastiness of foot"- that imprudent precipitation, 
 which the latter part of the verse associates with the com- 
 mission of sin, as being its natural and frequent cause. The 
 haste of ignorance or superficial knowledge, has marred many 
 an experiment in science deprived the world of its pos- 
 sibly valuable results ; and has prompted to conduct which 
 has laid up for the agent the bitternsss of regret, the sighs 
 of penitential sorrow. 
 
 Considered as a general maxim, the former clause of the 
 verse is a very important one. A "soul" is a rational and 
 intelligent spirit: and what is such a spirit "without know- 
 ledge?" It seems as if there were, in the supposed case, the 
 absence of an essential property. It is reason, with nothing' 
 on which, and nothing ly which reason can work ; intellect,,
 
 2i 8 LECTURE LIII. 
 
 without what intellect is given to acquire; powers, without 
 instruments ; faculties, without means of putting them to 
 profitable account; mind, in destitution of that without 
 which it might as well be matter. "Knowledge" is the soul's 
 very element, in which alone it can "live and have its being." 
 
 When man came, in his purity, from the creative hand of 
 his Maker, his soul was put in possession directly of "know- 
 ledge." This was the great good of his soul It was capable 
 of enjoying, and did enjoy clearly and amply, we have 
 every reason to believe, the best of all knowledge the 
 knowledge of God himself, that wonderful Being from whom 
 he had received his sensitive and his rational existence, 
 the infinite concentration of all greatness and all goodness, 
 of all purity and of all love; and the knowledge of the 
 works of God, as brought under his immediate or more re- 
 mote cognizance ; and of the character of God as manifested 
 in them, to his observant and delighted mind ; those works 
 on which, when they were finished, with man as their ra- 
 tional superintendent, and as God's high -priest amongst 
 them, to present to Him, on their behalf, the incense of their 
 praise, the eye of the Maker looked, and pronounced them 
 all " very good." 
 
 There was introduced by sin a description of knowledge 
 which it had been for the soul's good to have continued 
 without the experimental knowledge of evil. This was 
 what man obtained by listening to the temptation which 
 held out to him the deceitful promise of such an augmenta- 
 tion of knowledge as would place him, in a manner, on a 
 parity with the Most High. Such was the temptation present- 
 ed by the artful seducer. It was not, as some malignant 
 minds have alleged, and some weak minds have inconsider- 
 ately believed, the fruit, but the promised results of the 
 eating of it : " Ye shall be AS GOD, knowing good and evil" 
 The temptation was thus no little, trivial, contemptible one, 
 but one of the highest apparent excellence and worth. 
 Man, however, was, by the experiment, a fearful loser. 
 His moral dispositions became perverted and opposed to 
 God, and, in the things of God, his understanding became,
 
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 13. 219 
 
 by this very means, obscured. "He (lid not like to retain 
 God in his knowledge," and the knowledge of God was lost. 
 This was emphatically "not good." And from that day to 
 this, in every age and in every clime, has the truth of the 
 words before us been sadly experienced. 
 
 There is now a "knowledge of God" in the same char- 
 acter as before the fall, but manifested in a relation and in 
 works more appropriate to man's fallen condition, to which, 
 with peculiar emphasis, the language must apply the know- 
 ledge of God in the great work of redemption. This is the 
 knowledge which it is the main design of revelation to im- 
 part. And what says He respecting it, who is himself the 
 Word and Wisdom of God ? " This is LIFE ETEBXAL, that 
 they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, 
 whom, thou hast sent."* ! can it, then, be "good" that 
 the soul be without this knowledge ? Let men of science 
 say what they will, we must claim for it the very first place. 
 Graduate, as you will, the scale of the comparative value of 
 all other descriptions of knowledge, we demand the highest 
 point for this. Though a human soul were able to embrace, 
 and did embrace, the entire circle of knowledge comprehend- 
 ed in all its other departments, yet, without this know- 
 ledge and its appropriate influence, it would have no more 
 than the character of Satan, as expressed by a poet of our 
 own, shortly but well " Intellect icithout God." 
 
 Yet even to general knowledge may the words before us 
 be applied. It is good ; and " that the soul be without it 
 is not good." It gives better occupation to time; and, in 
 various ways, contributes to fit its possessor for usefulness, 
 preventing, both as to ourselves and others, that "hooting 
 ii-ith the feet" which leads to sin. But still, even to render 
 general knowledge truly available for a man's usefulness, in 
 the, highest sense and degree, it must be associated with the 
 knowledge of God. To that it must all be subordinated, 
 and by that it must be hallowed. General knowledge must 
 be principled by divine knowledge, and by it directed in its 
 
 * Jolin xvii. 3.
 
 220 LECTURE LIU. 
 
 application. Without right principle to guide the use of it, 
 it may be (and in many instances, without question, it has 
 been) only the means of enabling a man to be the cleverer 
 villain, endowing him with powers of evil, with resources 
 and arts of fraud and mischief And, although I am very 
 far from saying or thinking that, even without religion, this 
 is always the effect of such knowledge, yet it is a consider- 
 ation which should put Christians on the alert, that, wliile 
 mdans so various are in requisition for the diffusion of science 
 and literature, there be efforts made to maintain a corres- 
 ponding diffusion of valuable religious instruction ; that so, 
 as far as lies in them, the imparting of the power may be 
 accompanied with the imparting of the principle that shall 
 insure the right and beneficial use of it. 
 
 Verse 3. "The foolishness of man perverteth his way: 
 and his heart fretteth against the Lord." We have, in 
 Scripture, many exemplifications of the state of mind which 
 this verse describes. How frequently does it appear in the 
 history of the dealings of Jehovah with Israel ! To them- 
 selves to their own folly and sin, they owed all their 
 judicial sufferings ; yet how incessantly do they " fret against, 
 the Lord," and throw the blame of them on Him ! saying in 
 their impatient petulance, "The way of the Lord is not 
 equal?" Even when, in serving idols, they were indebted to 
 the patient and long-suffering forbearance of God for the 
 good they continued to enjoy, they ungratefully, and in the 
 spirit of fretful murmuring, impute this good to the false 
 gods they were criminally worshipping ! And at a later day 
 when, in consequence of their rejecting the Messiah, the 
 judgments of God began to come down upon them, how 
 did they, to the very last, instead of humbly " accepting the 
 punishment of their sins," persist in "fretting against the 
 Lord ! " : In Ahab, when he Avas reproved for letting Ben- 
 hadad escape ;t in Asa when he was wroth with the faithful 
 seer who reproved him in the Lord's name;| and in Jeho- 
 shaphat, in his treatment of Micaiah the son of Imla 
 
 * See 1 Thcsa. ii. 15, 16. f 1 Kinjrs xx. 42, 43. 
 
 + 2 tlirou. xvi. 9, 10. 2 Chron. xviii. 25, 26. with ver.so 7.
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 13. 221 
 
 we have, as in many more, individual exemplifications of the 
 spirit. 
 
 "We shall endeavour to apply the principle of the verse 
 to a few of its various manifestations, both in regard to 
 temporal, and in regard to spiritual things. 
 
 In the former, the error reprehended is exceedingly com- 
 mon. We meet with it every day : and alas ! our own 
 hearts are all sadly prone to it. 
 
 A man, for example, undertakes a business for which he 
 is in no way qualified either by nature or by education, 
 by talent, temper, or habit : or he conducts the business 
 which he lias undertaken, with inconsiderate carelessness 
 and indolent negligence : or he adopts hasty and rash steps, 
 on the suggestion of some fool like himself, or on the sud- 
 den and sanguine thought of the moment it strikes him, 
 it takes his fancy, 'and it is done: 01 he deliberately enters 
 into speculations that are at best doubtful, problematical and 
 perilous, depending on many chances, and ruinous if unsuc- 
 cessful : he goes perhaps still further aside by the adoption 
 and prosecution of measures that. are in their nature un- 
 principled and wrong; or by following out projects, in them- 
 selves sufficiently clear of objection, by means that cannot be 
 justified. In these, and other descriptions of conduct, "the 
 foolishness of a man perverteth his way." His schemes and 
 pursuits fail ; and disappointments and losses, difficulties, pri- 
 vations, and distresses, necessarily follow. 
 
 In these circumstances, the man's heart too often u fret- 
 t$th against the Lord." His lips may or may not give ut- 
 terance to his fretfuluess : no matter, the sin is the same. 
 The evil lies in the heart; and there the " Searcher of hearts" 
 sees it. But the fretfulness is sadly misplaced. The blame 
 lies with himself; and to "fret against the Lord" is at once 
 unreasonable and impious. 
 
 I believe that both Satan on the one hand, and Provi- 
 dence on the other, get a great deal of blame that does not 
 belong to them : Satan, in regard to men's conduct, and Pro- 
 vidence in regard to their circumstances. "We are fond of 
 shifting the blame off ourselves. " The serpent beguiled me,
 
 222 LECTURE LIII. 
 
 and I did eat," was the first apology for sin. And with far 
 less reason has the apology been often made since. Satan, 
 even with all his hosts, cannot he the author of all the evil 
 men do ; and I fear he gets the blame many a time that 
 should lie with men's own corrupt hearts. They " pervert 
 their way," and they accuse Satan : they fail and suffer, and 
 they accuse God. The depravity of our nature renders us 
 much more prone to impute the evil that befalls us to Pro- 
 vidence than to trace to the same source the good which we 
 acquire. With regard to the latter, we are ever disposed, in 
 the pride of our self-sufficiency, to say " By the strength of 
 my hand I have done it, and by my wisdom ; for I arn pru- 
 dent." But the very same principle makes us very averse 
 to ascribe the farmer to ourselves. We fondly look for 
 causes that will save our own credit, and throw the reflec- 
 tion upon anything rather than upon our own folly or our 
 own sin. As Providence does superintend and control every- 
 thing, nothing can be more convenient, as an off-get from any 
 imputation against ourselves. The foolish heart of the un- 
 successful man finds it so : he " fretteth against the Lord." 
 All fretting is fretting against the Lord, for the reason just 
 assigned, that the providence of the Lord does exercise an 
 universal control over events. Men may not in so many 
 words direct their complaint against the Lord. . They may 
 foolishly talk of their bad fortune; they may curse their ill 
 luck. But these are only other modes of "fretting against" 
 HIM. They are only the more foolish, that terms are used 
 expressive of what has no existence. They are, in expres- 
 sion, atheism; but, in spirit, they are fretful murmurings 
 against what is actually the ordering of God. 
 
 This "fretting against the Lord" is often exemplified, 
 when a man sees others succeed in schemes which he looked 
 upon, and perhaps with justice, as foolish and most unpro- 
 mising. In such case, the unsuccessful man frets the more. 
 He has "perverted his way," and brought his troubles 
 on himself; but another, whose way was in his estimation 
 still more perverse, has succeeded ; and why should not he 
 succeed too? But success to folly and perverseness is the
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 13. 223 
 
 exception; and nothing can be more unreasonable, surely, 
 than for a man to " fret against the Lord," because He has 
 not, in his case, reversed the natural tendencies of tilings ! 
 
 There is one case in which the tendency to "fret against 
 the Lord," rather than to acknowledge His kindness, is strik- 
 ingly apparent. It is every man's duty to "acknowledge 
 God in all his ways." He who neglects or despises this, 
 "perverteth his way and sinneth." He violates every dic- 
 tate of gratitude, of sound reason, and of Scripture. This 
 "perversion of his way" may be the very cause why he has 
 not obtained the object of his desire ; and yet his heart " frets 
 against the Lord," as the author of the evil that comes upon 
 him, although he would not at all own. Him in the pursuit 
 of the good on which he had set his heart ! There is some- 
 thing very shocking in this : when a man never thinks of 
 God, as it were, but with a curse; never thinks of Him but 
 as bringing evil! When in the full pursuit of wealth and 
 pleasure, " God is not in all his thoughts," to own his depen- 
 dence upon Him. When he succeeds and prospers, " God is 
 not in all his thoughts" to bless Him for his kindness. But 
 whenever he fails ; whenever misfortune crosses his path ; 
 whenever evil comes upon him then he thinks of God; 
 but only to "fret against" Him and accuse Him of partiality. 
 How unjust and ungenerous this spirit! 
 
 Another of the ways in which the principle of the text is 
 exemplified is in the pursuit of happiness. A man seeks it 
 in various ways, but he does not find it. Still there is re- 
 maining vexation of spirit ; still an aching void ; still some 
 Mordecai, on whose account all else avails him nothing; 
 still some "dead fly" that spoils the odour of the precious 
 ointment ; still something " crooked which cannot be made 
 straight, something wanting which cannot be numbered." 
 He acquires ivealth; but wealth does not bring him the sat- 
 isfaction he anticipated from it. There is still some annoy- 
 ance; something that does not go to his mind; something 
 that galls his spirit ; something which he finds riches cannot 
 do for him. He gets learning; he gets honour; he gets 
 fame; but it will not do. There is a want. He cannot, per-
 
 224 LECTURE LIII. 
 
 haps, tell how; but, somehow or other, he is not happy. 
 " His heart frets" to find it so. But the truth is, he is 
 foolishly " perverting his way." He is taking all ways to 
 find happiness but the right way. He is seeking it, and 
 expecting to find it, without making God himself his CHIEF 
 GOOD. If, instead of vainly " fretting," he would only be 
 persuaded to come to HIM, he would then find what would 
 effectually fill the void ; what would settle the disquietude ; 
 what would put a perpetual end to the discontent and the 
 felt but unknown want. He has been " hewing out to him- 
 self broken cisterns that can hold no water," and "fretting" 
 that he cannot get his thirst quenched. Would he but 
 cease thus to " pervert his way," and come to " the Fountain 
 of hiving water," to which he is graciously invited, he should 
 drink and thirst no more. To everything here below which 
 yields at the best but a temporary gratification, and leaves 
 behind a feeling of its insufficiency, it may be said, in the 
 language of the Saviour respecting the water of the well of 
 Sychar "Whoso drinkethof this water must thirst again:" 
 but when a man once drinks of the " fountain of living 
 water," he shall " never thirst : " that water becomes in him 
 " a well of water springing up into everlasting Life !" 
 
 There is another way in which this principle operates 
 another department in which it displays itself I mean in 
 regard to the prohibitory laws of God, and the dictates of 
 conscience when they are violated. "The foolishness of a 
 man perverteth his way." He follows the world. He 
 chooses evil rather than good. He is quite sensible he is 
 doing wrong. Conscience remonstrates, and reproaches, and 
 sharply stings him. He is uneasy, and sometimes when 
 alone, very unhappy. Solitude is irksome to him ; for it is 
 then, when other voices are still, that she most effectually 
 makes herself heard. He is disquieted and restless. He 
 frets, but alas! it is often "against the Lord." He is 
 displeased with the law. Why should it be so very 
 strict? Why not allow a Little more indulgence! He is 
 sullenly displeased, . at the stinging reproofs of the inward 
 monitor. Why cannot he do as he will, but conscience
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 13. 225 
 
 must be pricking and tormenting him? Can't it let him 
 alone 1 ? He frets too at the penalty annexed to sin. Why 
 so heavy a punishment? Why such fearful threatenings 
 of the " undying worm" and the " unquenchable fire ? " Why 
 cannot he take his indulgence, but hell with its fiery gulfs 
 must yawn before him? Why, in a word, are there so many 
 things that keep him from having peace in sin? Or, still 
 further Why is his nature what it is? He throws the 
 blame on his Maker for giving him, as he alleges in the bit- 
 terness of a fretful spirit, such passions, and then damning 
 him for the indulgence of them. He cannot believe He will. 
 If He does, He must be a tyrant ! 
 
 Vain and fool-hardy sinner ! how reckless the presump- 
 tion that would throw the charge of thy sins on that " God 
 who is light, and in whom is no darkness at all ! " Be con- 
 siderate and humble. Think, ere you venture to speak, on 
 what regards existing and incontrovertible facts in the ad- 
 ministration of the infinite God! Presume not to imagine 
 you can sound the depths of His counsels. If you will go on 
 in sin, and make your fallen nature your excuse, and expose 
 your immortal soul to the jeopardy of damnation because 
 you cannot solve all the difficulties, and unravel all the mys- 
 teries, connected with the origin of evil and the mode of the 
 transmission of a sinful and tainted nature, and the grounds 
 of a fallen creature's responsibility : there is no help for you. 
 " Your hearts may fret against the Lord," for not having 
 prevented the entrance of sin, and kept man in his first 
 estate. But this is not wise. You are in " foolishness per- 
 verting your way." Your wisdom is, instead of puzzling youi- 
 selves with fruitless metaphysical perplexities about how the 
 disease originated, and why it was permitted, humbly and 
 thankfully to embrace the remedy which God, in love, has 
 provided: instead of "fretting against Him," to "come to 
 Him that you may have life." You are acting an ungrate- 
 ful, an unworthy, an infatuated part, in "fretting" at your 
 fallen state, and refusing the means of recovery. But the 
 plain truth is, there is guile in your very fretfulness : it is 
 not with your fallen nature that you are dissatisfied. You 
 
 n. P
 
 226 LECTURE LIII. 
 
 are in love with it: you have no desire to part with it; no 
 desire to be freed from its existing propensities : your " fret- 
 ting" is, not that you are possessors of such a nature, but 
 that you cannot get it indulged with impunity. 
 
 Again : men seek peace to their consciences by various 
 means ; and in this respect too " the foolishness of a man per^ 
 verteth his way: and his heart fretteth against the Lord." 
 He tries to find it in ways of his own devising : he thinks he 
 may make a compromise for the indulgence of some sins by 
 abstinence from others : he thinks he may do with a partial, 
 if it be, as he fancies, a sincere obedience : he imagines he 
 may atone for his sins by penances, and pilgrimages, and chari- 
 ties : by these and other means he tries it ; but still he fails. 
 When he thinks of God and of God's law, the peace which 
 at times he fancies he has found will not abide the test. 
 The foundation on which it rests will not stand scrutiny 
 in the light of Heaven. He is still subject to misgivings and 
 fears, and distracting forebodings, and questions that cannot 
 be answered to the mind's satisfaction. Peace still flees from 
 him: the worm still gnaws conscience still brings its 
 charges ; and there is a distressing feeling that they cannot 
 be satisfactorily met, nor its remonstrances duly pacified. 
 He wonders why he should not have peace. He "frets" 
 because he cannot find it. But why should he fret 1 ? 
 and above all why should he "fret against the Lord?" 
 He is "perverting his way." He is not seeking peace 
 in God's way. There is peace for every sinner through 
 the blood of the cross. This is the only way in which 
 the peace can be enjoyed consistently with the mutual 
 relations between the sinner and God; the only way in 
 which the sinner is duly humbled and God duly glorified. 
 If any poor presumptuous creature's spirit shall " fret against 
 the Lord," because he cannot have peace and salvation 
 in a way more flattering to human nature, more palat- 
 able and gratifying to his pride of heart, let him re- 
 member, that, as a sinner, his pride is unseemly and im- 
 pious; that his "fretting" on such a ground is infatuation and 
 presumption alike without a name. The pride of the sin-
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 13. 227 
 
 ner, who thus frets against sovereign mercy, must be his 
 ruin ; and he will have brought it upon himself. His heart 
 must be broken down to the acceptance of a gratuitous sal- 
 vation, ^hrough the blood of the cross. If he cannot bring 
 himself to this; if he persists in spurning it in "fretting" 
 against it, he must continue to try for himself, and to "fret" 
 at the felt failure of every successive trial. The God with 
 whom he has to do cannot alter His measures, infinitely wise 
 and honourable to Himself, as well as kind and merciful to 
 His creatures, to suit and to please the proud spirit of un- 
 subdued rebellion 1 If you will not have life on His terms, 
 is the infinite God to surrender the glory of his name and 
 government, to gratify the humour of an ungrateful and 
 haughty despiser of it 1 of a perverse spirit that frets in dis- 
 content at what ought to fill it with "joy unspeakable" and 
 gratitude such as his heart cannot contain 1 ? the folly of a 
 poor sinner, " fretting against the Lord," when He offers him 
 just what he needs mercy ! " Refuse it ! " He might well 
 say, " fret against it ! is such a thing possible 1 " Alas ! it 
 is more than possible. Many, in pride of spirit, refuse to bow 
 to mercy, and, by thus " perverting their way," sink into per- 
 dition : and thu-s perishing, they will through eternity have 
 cause to " fret," not against God but against themselves ! 
 
 Once more : let no sinner " fret against the Lord," because 
 the grace that pardons sin associates inseparably with par- 
 don, holiness of heart, and life. The scheme of mercy could 
 not be from God, were it otherwise. There can be no 
 "perverting of our way" more strange and fearful than that 
 which "turns the grace of God into licentiousness," and 
 " frets against the Lord" because, instead of saving us from 
 our sins, He does not save us in our sins ! The scheme 
 of God is a scheme of salvation : and a salvation that comes 
 from God must be a salvation from what exposes to hell as 
 well as from hell itself a salvation from SIN. No other 
 would be His. It is perfect. It cannot be broken into 
 parts. It must be accepted as a whole, and its blessings 
 enjoyed in their inseparable union.
 
 LECTURE LIV. 
 
 PKOV. xix. 4 15. 
 
 " Wealth maketh many friends ; but the poor is separated from his neighbour. 
 A false witness shall not be unpunished, and he that speaketh lies shall not 
 escape. Many will entreat the favour of the prince: and every man is a friend 
 to him that giveth gifts. All the brethren of the poor do hate him : how much 
 more do his friends go far from him ? he pursueth them with words, yet they 
 are wanting to him. He that getteth wisdom loveth his own soul: he tnat 
 keepeth understanding shall find good. A false witness shall not be unpunished, 
 and he that speaketh lies shall perish. Delight is not seemly for a fool ; much 
 less for a servant to have rule over princes. The discretion of a man deferreth 
 his anger; and it is his glory to pass over a transgression. The king's wrath is 
 as the roaring of a lion : but his favour is as dew upon the grass. A foolish 
 son is the calamity of his father; and the contentions of a wife are a continual 
 dropping. House and riches are the inheritance of fathers ; and a prudent wife 
 is from the Lord. Slothfulness casteth into a deep sleep ; and an idle soul shall 
 suffer hunger." 
 
 THERE is a sense, and an important one, in which "wealth" 
 not only may, but ought to " make friends ;" in which, to the 
 extent of its possession, it is the Saviour's injunction to his 
 disciples so to use it : " Make to yourselves friends of the 
 mammon of unrighteousness ; that, when ye fail they may 
 receive you into everlasting habitations."* "The mammon 
 of unrighteousness," is a designation given by our Lord to 
 the riches of this world, because among the men of the world 
 it is so very frequently the occasion of unrighteousness got- 
 ten by unrighteous means, and used for unrighteous ends. 
 
 * Luke xvi. 9.
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 415. 229 
 
 He inculcates on his disciples its legitimate use ; it being, of 
 course, implied, that they who use it according to his will, have 
 also so acquired it. The employment of it in the benefactions 
 of kindness, is evidently what is commanded ; by which the 
 grateful affections of others, the objects of that kindness, may 
 be secured; and, having become the source of satisfaction, 
 and, it may be, of benefit, in the present world, may meet us 
 even in the world to come, giving us a cordial welcome to 
 me "everlasting habitations" prepared by our heavenly Fa- 
 ther for his redeemed family, whom his mercy has pardoned, 
 and his Spirit has renewed and made like himself. 
 
 But this way of " making friends " is evidently not what 
 is meant by Solomon here; as the antithesis sufficiently in- 
 dicates : " Wealth maketh many friends ; but the poor 
 is separated from his neighbour." ''Wealth" has many 
 means of " making friends," of which poverty is destitute. 
 It can operate, for its own selfish ends, on the selfish princi- 
 ples of others. These principles lead those under their influ- 
 ence to court the favour of the rich, and to catch with 
 eagerness at every symptom of it, while, in many instances, 
 it is only selfishness versus selfishness; the showing of the 
 favour, and the catching at the favour, being prompted alike 
 by the same motive. "Wealth" can "make friends," by gifts, 
 entertainments, and various modes of aid to others, which 
 the poor cannot command; and even by exciting and main- 
 taining expectations, which are as foolishly formed and cher- 
 ished, as they are selfishly encouraged. Let wealth become 
 poverty ; then comes the test of the friendship. Let " riches 
 make themselves wings and fly away;" and the selfish 
 friends find wings immediately too. The attraction is gone. 
 The magnet has lost its virtue ; or rather its poles are re- 
 versed, and it has become repulsive, driving away what be- 
 fore it held in close cohesion. He who, when rich, was sur- 
 rounded by flattering friends, is now, when poor, found 
 troublesome. Excuses are devised for keeping him at a dis- 
 tance; he is " separated from his neighbour." The reason 
 is, that formerly he could give, but now he needs; and the 
 selfishness of human nature likes better to get than to give.
 
 230 LECTURE L1V. 
 
 how different from the tendencies of that corrupt nature is the 
 divine maxim of Jesus " It is more blessed to give than to 
 receive!" What a world would this be, were this maxim 
 universally adopted, and consistently acted upon ! The for- 
 mer part of this verse would continue true : wealth would still 
 " have many friends ; " but they would be all of the descrip- 
 tion of grateful friends, made and held by its benevolent use. 
 But the latter part of the verse would be true no longer ; 
 the poor being courted as the object of kindness, for the sake 
 of the blessedness of giving the luxury of doing him good 
 would no longer be "separated" and shunned. 
 
 It is a comfort to the poor who fear God, that there is 
 One from whom their poverty never " separates" them. " God 
 hath chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of 
 the kingdom which he hath promised to them that love him ; " 
 and of Him who, when on earth, " had not where to lay 
 his head," it is said " He shall deliver the needy when he 
 crieth; the poor also, and him that hath no helper." In 
 HIM let "the needy" put their trust. 
 
 "Verse 5. "A false witness shall not be unpunished, and 
 he that speaketh lies shall not escape."* Truth is a part of 
 the conventional morality of the world. Society could not 
 subsist without it. There is a constant tendency in our cor- 
 rupt nature I will not say to prefer falsehood to truth when 
 there is no temptation to the former, no end to be gained 
 by it; but to set truth aside when there is a temptation, 
 any object of self-interest to be attained by its opposite. 
 And falsehood is too frequently practised, to defeat the ends 
 of justice. Were it not for the corruption of our nature, 
 there would be no use for oaths. When an oath is adminis- 
 tered in any case, falsehood becomes perjury ; against which 
 the laws of every well-regulated community direct severe 
 punitive visitation. And even, should the "liar" and the 
 "false witness" escape discovery and punishment among 
 men "he shall not escape" when "God shall bring every 
 work into judgment with every secret thing." "All liars" 
 
 * See chaps, vi. 19; xiv. 5, 25.
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 415. 231 
 
 and not less false swearers " shall have their part in the 
 lake which burneth with fire and brimstone." 
 
 Verses 6, 7. " Many will entreat the favour of the prince ; 
 and every man is a friend to him that giveth gifts. All the 
 brethren of the poor do hate him ; how much more do his 
 friends go far from him 1 ? he pursueth them with words, yet 
 they are wanting to him." The contents of these verses are, 
 in their spirit, very similar to those of verse fourth. The 
 truth of them arises out of the same principle the selfish- 
 ness of our fallen nature ; and it was practically evinced then, 
 as it is still. Wherever the gratification of its wishes is to be 
 got, selfishness will be found, plying all its arts. The throne, 
 as might, from the power of this principle, be anticipated, has 
 many parasitical and self-interested attendants; hangers on 
 for places, and pensions, and gifts. The gates, and halls, 
 and antechambers of royalty, or of the representatives and 
 almoners of royalty, will ever be found crowded with appli- 
 cants. This is one, it may be, of the gratifications and honours, 
 but surely also of the annoyances and mortifications of power 
 and station. It is an annoyance, from the frequent trouble- 
 someness and importunity of the applicants ; and it is a mor- 
 tification, the prince being well aware that it is not for his 
 own sake that the court is paid, not from any attachment to 
 his person and character, but solely to his princely power. 
 If he sinks, and another is about to succeed him, he will be 
 forsaken for the successor, for him who is about to have 
 the gifts and the berths at his disposal. The worship will 
 be withdrawn from the setting, and devoutly paid to the ris- 
 ing sun. 
 
 In the latter of the two verses, " brethren" means, as in 
 many other places, near relations; while "friends" signifies 
 simply companions, or persons who have become intimate, 
 but have no consanguinity. We must not suppose " the 
 poor" to have merited dislike by their own conduct. Then, 
 indeed, they would not be entitled to love. The dislike and 
 distance would be only their due. Idleness or profligacy 
 would disfranchise them, in regard to the obligations of their 
 friends to help them. The general sense of the words re-
 
 232 LECTURE LIV. 
 
 lates to the tendency of poverty itself to cool affection and to 
 alienate friendship. This may arise from two causes both 
 alike selfish and unworthy. First, " the brethren of the poor " 
 are not fond of owning him as one of their circle. They 
 court alliance with the rich, the honourable, the great, those 
 who have their place in what the world call good society. 
 They take every way of making their connexion with such 
 persons known. They speak of it themselves, and are de- 
 lighted when it is spoken of by others : but their poorer 
 relatives they rather keep out of sight. They make no men- 
 tion of them themselves ; and when others stumble upon the 
 mention of them, they try to make the connexion as distant 
 as possible, and to put the best face on what they feel to be 
 disreputable, and do not like to hear of. And this, alas! 
 is too frequently the case, even when, in regard to character, 
 and the qualities which should render men estimable, the 
 advantage is all on the side of the poverty. If any kin can 
 be claimed with the great, it is eagerly done, even let their 
 characters be ever so profligate; while connexion with the 
 poor is concealed and all allusion to it avoided, although 
 they are of the " excellent of the earth" in whom God him- 
 self has complacency. Even God's people are too much in 
 danger of being tempted, by a false and unworthy shame, to 
 feel and act thus, and to let their countenance sink when 
 a poor relation is mentioned, and brighten at the notice of 
 the rich connexions of the family; although they know 
 how different is the estimate of Him whose followers they 
 profess to be. let Christians be on their guard against 
 such conformity to the world ! What are children to think, 
 when they see it in their parents; and when they are thus 
 taught, by example, to value men, and to value relations, 
 not according to character but to mere wealth and station ! 
 But there is another reason for the dislike and the dis- 
 tance. Poor relations are burdensome relations. They stand 
 in need. They present demands, directly or indirectly, upon 
 the purse ; and this touches selfishness in another point. They 
 are apt to be thought intrusive and troublesome. They are 
 looked upon with jealousy. Their visits are discouraged.
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 415. 233 
 
 They are received with coldness; and are given to under- 
 stand that the longer they are of coming back, so much the 
 better. If they do venture sooner, their repulse becomes 
 sterner. They find a deaf ear, or are put off with fair but 
 indefinite and distant promises; and when by such means 
 they are got rid of for the time, they are followed with a 
 fretful wish that it may be many a day ere their face is seen 
 again. 
 
 If such the treatment by relatives, what is to be expected 
 of mere friends and acquaintances ] The latter part of the 
 verse is very touching: "he pursueth them with icords, 
 yet they are wanting to him." Exigency produces im- 
 portunity. The poor reduced relation or companion urges 
 his suit; reminds of former days of intimacy, and of past 
 professions of friendship of the claims of kindred of 
 the urgency of want. But this becomes irksome. It frets 
 the temper; and sometimes frets it the more, in propor- 
 tion as the justice and truth of the appeal are felt, be- 
 cause then conscience secretly puts in its sting; and they 
 are sent away with an imperious and angry scowl ! that 
 we would but accustom ourselves, in the true spirit of the 
 " royal law," to exchange conditions, and to consider how, in 
 such an exchange, we should ourselves like to be so treated! 
 And if Christians would but bethink themselves what 
 would become of them, if God were to deal with them, in 
 their time of need and of application to Him, as they are 
 thus tempted to deal with needy, dependent, and importu- 
 nate relatives and friends! 
 
 We have had the lesson of the next verse, in its spirit and 
 substance, and almost in the very terms, repeatedly before 
 us. It is a lesson of which the importance is so funda- 
 mental, lying as it does at the root of all happiness for 
 time and eternity, that it cannot be too often or too ur- 
 gently pressed on practical attention, and immediate and 
 hearty compliance : " He that getteth wisdom loveth his 
 own soul : he that keepeth understanding shall find good." 
 Let a man's intellect be ever so clear and sound on other 
 matters, he is insane if he forgets God, and neglects his
 
 234 LECTURE LIV. 
 
 " SOUL." This is the prevailing insanity of the Avorld, the 
 monomania of the entire race. 
 
 Verse 10. "Delight is not seemly for a fool; much less 
 for a servant to have rule over princes." The word rendered 
 " delight" is here to be understood as meaning prosperity, 
 and abundance of life's desired enjoyments, from which the 
 delight of men arises : and a "fool" means a man who is little 
 in mind, destitute of knowledge and discretion, or base in 
 character ; or all the three. There is an incongruity between 
 the man and his situation. His prosperity and condition 
 attract notice and attention. There is a certain admiration 
 and influence connected with them; but these are ill sup- 
 ported by his mental and moral qualities. What he has 
 is out of keeping with what he is. You would smile, if you 
 saw a poor man's ass decked out in trappings of embroidery 
 and gold. Not less incongruous is the union of prosperity 
 and folly. The man occupies a conspicuous position ; but 
 there is no corresponding dignity or elevation of mind and 
 character. Besides, in most cases, the "fool" cannot bear his 
 good fortune, it renders him vain, insolent, self-sufficient, 
 consequential, and overbearing. He assumes airs, such as 
 only make his imbecility and folly the more apparent, and 
 the unseemliness the greater and the more offensive. And 
 still further he has not wit enough to use his prosperity 
 rightly. He perverts it to foolish, improper, unbecoming 
 purposes ; not only failing to apply it for the glory of God 
 and the true benefit of men, but actually applying it to use- 
 less, silly, frivolous, fantastic ends, which expose him to 
 universal ridicule. 
 
 "Much less" adds Solomon, "fur a servant to have rule 
 over princes." The case is one which has not unfrequently 
 been realized in history. Even when the servant, as some- 
 times happens, is superior in mental talent and vigour of in- 
 tellect, and discretion of management, to the prince, yet 
 still there is unseemliness, an inversion of established and 
 necessary order. He ought not to be a prince, whose imbe- 
 cility subjects him to a servant's rule. It seems evident, 
 however, that by a servant, or slave, is meant a person who,
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 415. 235 
 
 wliile he is of low extraction, has mind, and education, and 
 habits correspondingly low; a base-born, grovelling, ignoble 
 spirit. The influence and authority of such a one is of all 
 tilings the -most unseemly and disgustful In whichsoever 
 sense the words are taken, the unseemliness is equally great. 
 The sense has been given by one interpreter very briefly 
 thus : A fool knows not how to use abundance, nor a slave 
 authority. The slave may not be naturally inferior; yet his 
 education and habits of life render him altogether unfit for 
 the acts of government. There have been exceptions. Among 
 such, however, it is quite improper to place the case of Joseph ; 
 inasmuch as Joseph, though, in the mysterious providence of 
 God, a slave in Egypt, was not such by birth or education; 
 but by both, as well as by the grace of God, fitted for rule. 
 
 Verse 11. "The discretion of a man deferreth his anger; 
 and it is his glory to pass over a transgression."* 
 
 A man of true "discretion" and sound understanding will 
 not be "easily provoked." This is one of the attributes of 
 genuine prudence, as really as of genuine charity. A quick 
 and touchy irritability is the mark of a weak and foolish, 
 rather than of a vigorous and sensible mind, "Wood that is 
 light and porous, in which the sap, which is its life and 
 strength, has ceased to circulate, is proverbially the most 
 easily fired. 
 
 When provoked, the man of discretion exerts his self-con- 
 trol; restrains resentment; checks and curbs it; knowing 
 well that the instant indulgence of anger, giving loose to 
 its first emotions, so that they burst forth in ebullitions of 
 violence, is sure to carry the subject of it to extremes; and 
 that when this is the case in the administration of reproof or 
 reprehension, it at once exposes the man himself, and wrongs 
 his neighbour. " It is his glory to pass over a transgres- 
 sion." It is so because it is much more difficult self-con- 
 trol requiring far greater effort than self-indulgence ; because 
 it shows the operation of high moral and spiritual prin- 
 ciple, a regard to God's authority, such as overcomes the 
 
 * Comp. chap. xii. 16; xiv. 29; xv. 18.
 
 236 LECTURE LIV. 
 
 fear of man, especially of his contempt and ridicule, the worst 
 of all to bear; and because it is the greatest glory of man, 
 or of any creature, to be like God, whose Name is still, as it 
 was of old " The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gra- 
 cious, long-suffering, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and 
 sin," Exod. xxxiv. 6, 7. 
 
 Verse 12. "The king's wrath is as the roaring of a lion: 
 but his favour is as dew upon the grass." The "wrath of 
 the king" affords indication of the danger arising from it in 
 the effects which may follow : just as the " roaring of the 
 lion" does. The power of offended Majesty is thus intimated, 
 and warning given for timely escape from its punitive inflic- 
 tions. On the other hand, " his favour is like dew upon the 
 grass." The image presents the natural association of fresh- 
 ness, beauty, glory, growth, fruitfulness. The dew falls softly 
 on the face of nature refreshing, beautifying, adorning, enli- 
 vening, fructifying. Thus comes upon its fortunate object, 
 as the world esteems him, the favour of the prince. ! if 
 he is regarded as fortunate who escapes the one, and enjoys 
 the other; what shall we say of the " wrath" and "the favour" 
 of the King of kings ! * Above all things to be shunned, 
 shun His wrath; above all things to be desired and sought, 
 seek and desire His favour. There is no misery bike the en- 
 durance of the one ; there is no blessedness bike the enjoy- 
 ment of the other. The one will sink you to hell ; the other 
 will raise you to heaven. Nay, the one is hell ; the other is 
 heaven. 
 
 Verse 13. "A foolish son is the calamity of his father; 
 and the contentions of a wife are a continual dropping." 
 In this verse there are brought before us two sources of 
 great unhappiness in domestic life. The first of the two 
 is the subject of frequent reference. t Let not the words 
 be understood as if this source of unhappiness were always 
 to be regarded simply as a calamity in providence. Let not 
 parents too readily so regard it, and thus " lay a too flatter- 
 
 * Comp. 2 Sam. xxiii. 4; Psal. Ixxii. 6; Amos iii. 68. 
 t See chap. x. 1; xv. 20; xvii. 21, 25.
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 415. 237 
 
 ing unction to their souls." The blame may lie, and in 
 most instances, if not in all, does lie, and must lie, with 
 themselves. Have their instructions been sufficiently scrip- 
 tural 1 ? their admonitions sufficiently faithful? their exam- 
 ple sufficiently consistent? their guardianship sufficiently 
 vigilant? their entreaties and persuasions sufficiently af- 
 fectionate? their efforts sufficiently united? their prayers 
 sufficiently fervent and importunate? their faith in the pro- 
 mises of the covenant sufficiently firm and influential? 
 ponder, ye parents, such questions as these, and lay them 
 deeply and solemnly to heart. 
 
 Then we have "the contentions of a wife" presented 
 under the figure of " a continual dropping? The idea is not 
 simply that of uninterrupted constancy, although that is what 
 is directly expressed; it is in the effects of that constancy 
 that the spirit of the comparison lies : As, first, the most 
 vexatious discomfort. The image is not that of mere fall- 
 ing rain, but of rain finding its way through the roof, and 
 everywhere " dropping ; " so that there is no escaping it : 
 it comes upon you in every corner : you cannot abide in the 
 house; or, if you do, it is amidst unceasing annoyance. 
 Thus is it where dwells an angry, contentious, brawling 
 woman. She banishes husband and children from the 
 house. There is no living under the same roof with her. 
 Or if a sense of duty, or a feeling of necessity obliges them 
 to remain, it is in the midst of incessant irritation, and vex- 
 ation of spirit. It is not easy, I should think, to deter- 
 mine, whether the clamour of the scolding termagant or the 
 ill-natured discontented peevishness of the shrew, be the 
 worse to bear. The man is to be pitied who happens upon 
 either ; the one ever passionate, the other ever complaining ; 
 the one angry at everything, the other pleased with nothing; 
 the one ever furious, the other ever fretful But further, 
 their vexation and annoyance is not all: the "continual 
 dropping" is very injurious and destructive to the house, 
 rotting its timbers, loosening and disengaging its cement, and 
 endangering its stability. So are "the contentions of a wife" 
 ruinous to the family interests, as well as to its comfort and
 
 238 LECTURE LIV. 
 
 peace. They dishearten, dispirit, and paralyse exertion; they 
 fret and sour the temper abroad as well as at home. When 
 a man has cheerful domestic enjoyment at his own fireside, 
 unbending there after the toils of the day, tasting with a 
 happy husband's and father's relish the sweetest of earthly 
 sweets, the sweets embosomed in the one word HOME, 
 with what cheerful alacrity does he set about and pursue his 
 labour through the day, and, at its close, bring his earnings to 
 the kind, smiling, industrious, frugal, managing, partner of his 
 life ! But when it is otherwise, his " hands hang down and 
 his knees are feeble." He goes out to his daily labour with 
 a heavy heart and, instead of anticipating the evening as a 
 time of relief and ease, and compensation for his day's 
 fatigue, he sees the hour of his return home coming on with 
 a sigh, and lifts the latch of his door to enter his abode, 
 with a heart still heavier than when he left it. Ah ! this is 
 a sad case. But still further : the respectability of the 
 family is affected. Friends and neighbours keep aloof; and 
 while the wife is blamed, and the husband is pitied, the blame 
 and the pity are blended generally with feelings, and accom- 
 panied with expressions, that are more akin to scorn and 
 ridicule than to respect. And what, in many cases, is the 
 sad result 1 ? The poor man, finding no attraction at his own 
 fireside has recourse to the club and the alehouse ; and the 
 history of a family, which might have been decent, well- 
 provided, respected, and happy, ends in destitution, wretched- 
 ness, and dependence : like a tenement, which by a " con- 
 tinual dropping" has mouldered and decayed, and comes to 
 ruin ere it has stood half its time. 
 
 And ! what shall be said, when the tAvo evils in this 
 verse unite I There cannot be a case more pitiable. Under 
 the former atone, a man may be sustained and comforted by 
 the cheering society and converse of a fond wife, the sharer 
 and the soother of his sorrows, as he is of hers : and under 
 the latter alone, his misery may be not a little mitigated by 
 the prudence, the sympathy, and the aid of a pious and 
 affectionate son. But when the two come together how- 
 deplorable ! the husband and the father alike wretched,
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 415. 239 
 
 neither relation alleviating, but each aggravating, the affliction 
 of the other ! 
 
 Though my illustration, as you perceive, has been taken 
 from inferior life, from the dwellings of the labouring poor ; 
 yet be it remembered, the misery of such paternal and con- 
 jugal disappointments is very far from being confined to that 
 class of the community. It is to be found in the highest cir- 
 cles of society, as well as in the lowest. Nor let it be 
 forgotten that the case might be reversed. It is not hus- 
 bands alone that are made unhappy by peevish or passionate 
 wives : many a wife leads a life of daily irksomeness and 
 grief from the behaviour of a hasty and furious, or a selfish 
 and sullen, and unreasonable husband. Let husbands then 
 look well to themselves, how far they may be accountable for 
 the tempers of their wives. " Few women have so little of 
 the heart of a woman, or a human creature, as to make those 
 men unhappy that treat them with discretion and tender- 
 ness; or, if women really deserve this character, gentle ad- 
 monition and kind usage are the best means of reclaiming 
 them." 
 
 The next verse is a following out of the same subject. 
 "House and riches are the inheritance of fathers" the 
 paternal inheritance; that is not what fathers inherit, but 
 what fathers transmit as an inheritance to their sons. They 
 are things which a man may receive by inheritance from his 
 father, without any labour for them of his own : " But a 
 prudent wife is from the Lord." Not that "house and 
 riches" are not from the Lord too. But the meaning seems to 
 be, that when a young man has succeeded to his father's 
 " house and riches," there is something yet before him incom- 
 parably more important and more closely connected with the 
 happiness of his future life ; namely, his obtaining a suitable 
 companion to share that house and those riches with him 
 " a prudent wife." If he errs here his inheritance will be 
 of little avail to his happiness. The antithesis in the verse 
 seems evidently to convey the idea that the latter of the two 
 blessings is unspeakably the more precious of the two. The 
 former let the house be a palace for splendour, and the
 
 240 LECTURE LIV. 
 
 riches the most abundant that ever were accumulated, could 
 not confer happiness, were there strife and brawling, aliena- 
 tion and coldness, in the family. The poor peasant, to 
 whom neither "house nor riches" have descended, but who 
 labours with manly industry 
 
 " From morn to noon, from noon to dewy eve," 
 
 to share his little all with the active, economical, affectionate 
 partner of his life, for whom, on his return home 
 
 " The busy housewife plies her evening care; 
 Whose children ran, to lisp their sire's return. 
 And climb his knees the envied kiss to share,' 1 
 
 has an infinitely happier lot than the wealthiest Xabob of 
 the East, without that love-feast of connubial and domestic 
 peace, contentment, and cordial harmony. 
 
 "A prudent wife" called elsewhere "a virtuous wo- 
 man," is one in whom " the heart of her husband can safely 
 trust," in regard to rectitude of principle, and propriety of 
 conduct; whose dealings he does not require to be for ever 
 watching; who, from his full reliance on her judgment and 
 integrity, keeps him "without carefulness;" who, in the 
 language of the Apostle, " loves her husband, loves her chil- 
 dren, is discreet, chaste, a keeper at home, good, obedient to 
 her own husband: 1 ' one who counsels him in difficulty, 
 cheers him in depression, and, by joint participation, doubles 
 to him every joy and divides every care and sorrow. Cer- 
 tainly, among temporal blessings there is not a more precious 
 gift of heaven to man below. It is "from the Lord" 
 The meaning is, not, as some have, most falsely, and calum- 
 niously to the female character, alleged, that there is no 
 possibility, from the artfulness of woman, of forming any 
 right estimate of what any one of the whole sex is to be 
 after she has become a wife, that it is all a lottery. This, 
 I repeat, is a false and calumnious representation. It is 
 not that we must look to providence, as in a matter where 
 any consideration and care of our own are of no avail. It is 
 true, there are cases of artful concealment and sinmlation, in
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 415. 241 
 
 which, subsequently to union, tempers discover themselves, 
 of which the existence was never previously suspected. 
 But, generally speaking, the fault lies on the side of the 
 choosing party. " A prudent wife " is not to be got by an 
 imprudent mode of choice. The gift must be sought "from, 
 the Lord," But this does not mean that the Lord is super- 
 naturally to point out the individual Our own discretion 
 must be put in exercise, along with prayer for the divine 
 superintendence and direction, so as to bring about a happy 
 result. And then the precious gift should be owned, and the 
 all-bountiful Giver praised for his goodness in bestowing it. 
 
 Verse 15. " Slothfulness casteth into a deep sleep; and an 
 idle soul shall suffer hunger."* The tendency of a slothful 
 spirit is, to grow by indulgence ; yawning indolence ending 
 in a " deep sleep." And this is a time of defenceless expo- 
 sure, both of person and property, as well as of entire unpro- 
 ductiveness. "He awaketh, and his soul is empty." But 
 he must "suffer hunger;" and, as being the effect solely of 
 his own folly, it is right that he should be left to feel it. 
 
 The sentiment holds as to spiritual concerns. Spiritual 
 lassitude and sloth grows on the professor who indulges it. 
 It becomes lethargy. It puts the soul in danger of falling 
 into " a deep sleep." A torpor comes over all its living ener- 
 gies; and then, incapacity for any active exertion increases. 
 This is a period of special peril to the divine life in the soul. 
 Its last spark is in danger of becoming extinct, and spiritual 
 death of ensuing. Satan takes the advantage; plies his 
 temptations ; drives the listless and indolent into the gross- 
 est and vilest sins, and fills the conscience with a despair, 
 that rivets the bonds of iniquity. 
 
 The second part of the verse applies equally to what is 
 spiritual There is "hunger" in the spiritual, as well as in 
 the natural or animal life. When the soul is in sound 
 health, it "hungers after" the word and ordinances of God, 
 and finds constant gratification and relief from the enjoy- 
 ment of them. But the "hunger" which the soul is here 
 
 * Comp. chap. vi. 61 1 : x. 4; xv. 19. 
 II. Q
 
 ' 242 LECTURE LIV. 
 
 spoken of as suffering, is a paw fid filing of leant ; the 
 result of indolence and inactivity, and that cannot be im- 
 mediately relieved ; an unsatisfied longing, a gnawing empti- 
 ness. When the divine word is neglected, or not studied 
 with attention and care; when no new knowledge is ac- 
 quired, and there is no enlargement of the old, there is a 
 vacancy in the mind, a painful craving, an appetite that 
 is in need of supply, and ill at ease without it. When 
 the stomach, the principal organ of digestion in the bodily 
 frame, has not a sufficiency of aliment to keep its chemical 
 powers in action, its digestive juices give pain some- 
 times most severe by acting gnawingly upon itself. Kow 
 the renewed soul lives on divine knowledge. This is its food. 
 It must have something to keep its powers in action ; new 
 supplies of its appropriate and necessary nourishment. There 
 is a peculiar satisfaction to the soul, in. the acquisition of 
 fresh knowledge; like the satisfaction experienced by the 
 corporeal appetite from the introduction of food to relieve 
 and satisfy the appetite of hunger. The pain produced 
 by felt ignorance, arises from the unnatural state in which 
 the soul is placed by the want of that on which its powers 
 can operate, and from which their operation may extract 
 enjoyment. This pain in reality springs from conscience. It 
 is right it should be felt. When felt, it will prove a stimu- 
 lus to seek the nutriment by which alone it can be removed, 
 and which alone can restore the healthful activity of the 
 vital principles of the divine life, and renewed and corre- 
 sponding growth. If our souls "suffer hunger;" if they 
 pine and starve the fault is our own. In the divine stores 
 there is no lack of suitable provision. Every kind of sup- 
 ply is to be found in abundance, laid up for us in God's 
 word and ordinances. But there must be diligence to obtain 
 it. As corn in the granary will not nourish the body; so 
 knowledge in the book wilt not nourish the soul If you 
 would not suifer from the gnawing "hunger" of ignorance, 
 but would have the satisfaction and growth produced by 
 knowledge, you must work for it ; you must put forth effort 
 to obtain it; you must find it, by such effort, in its native
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 415. 24P> 
 
 variety, and, by the process of "comparing spiritual tilings 
 with spiritual," you must appropriate it to the varied wants 
 of your higher nature. Attend, then, to the duty enjoined 
 upon you, to " grow in grace, and in the knowledge of the Lord 
 and Saviour ; " to " add to your faith, knowledge ; " to " kt 
 the word of Christ dwell in you richly, in all wisdom;" to 
 " work out your own salvation, with fear and trembling, that 
 God may work in you, both to will and to do of liis good 
 pleasure." " Give diligence to make your calling and election 
 sure ; for if ye do these things ye shall never fall, hut have 
 an entrance ministered to you abundantly into the ever- 
 Jasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." 
 
 And let all remember, that, although they may have no 
 relish for the provision of God's word, as the nourishment of 
 the soul, this absence of spiritual relish is their sin; and 
 that their souls, thus famished, shall "suffer hunger" in the 
 world to come, for evermore; endure all the pangs of "the 
 second death,"- all the means of Life, which they had here 
 rejected, being eternally withdrawn. Tfig m 
 
 r 9ift m<: oornsroflgi iM id 
 
 tto tejii to tacw gift vcf Jmslq ei Lrog a/fo 
 toffi: roiitfrsqo liadi xfoMw moil fma <9teiaqo m 
 
 > xnotf 8nhq3 yjtif/m ai nieq giifT .toanrjotne 
 -mnite B svo-rq Ilhw jl<& n 9J iW ^M od bluodz ti M%h zi 
 <b9vom9T ad ao ti 9nol doidw yd tosmhton eif* sfeaa o* er;I 
 *fo s M'ttL&rf erf* 8iods9T irso snolB rfoidw baa 
 
 -9TCOO baa bewoaoi bus ,#if enbfib edi to aslqbmiq Ifitiy 
 ledi li "-losmfrf iglira" aluoa 100 H' jfcfwcrrg %aibaoqs 
 di nI orwo ujo zi dlnei arfi evaisds ba& sniq 
 io iuiijl Tjrava jioiaivoicr - -jbd on ei 9 
 
 g'boO ai 6u 10! qw bM ^)0bmjd al bauvl 3d ot ei 
 niB3 .;Hif) ad teunr sisH* iu3 ^sooBiriL 
 
 roa don Iliw ^amtfrg aii 
 (ahuon loir Iliw ioocT 9tti a\ ^ 
 
 mo-disl), 
 
 -;r<f 
 >lv/-oni(
 
 LECTURE LV, 
 
 PROV. xix. 1620. 
 
 " He that keepeth the commandment keepeth his own soul: but he that de- 
 spiseth his way shall die. He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto th# 
 Lord ; and that which he hath given will he pay him again. Chasten thy son 
 while there is hope, and let not thy soul spare for his crying. A man of great 
 wrath shall suffer punishment: for if thou deliver him, yet thou must do it 
 again. Hear counsel, and receive instruction, that thou mayest be wise in thy 
 latter end." 
 
 THE phrase " He that keepeth the commandment" appears to 
 be one which comprehends the giving of an appropriate re- 
 ception and treatment to every part of the divine word. 
 Every part of that word comes with authority, has the full 
 force of laic. It is God's commandment that we receive His 
 truth, as well as God's commandment that we do His will 
 "What, in Scripture, is called the obedience of faith, includes 
 both; the believing reception of truth, and the surrender 
 of the heart and life to its holy practical influence, which, 
 in consequence of the perfect harmony between God's mind 
 and God's will, is the same thing with conformity to the pre- 
 cepts of the divine law. We are equally bound by " the law 
 of faith" as by the " law of works." The first of God's com- 
 mandments to men, as sinners, is that they accept His salva- 
 tion, that they acquiesce in the terms of His offer of mercy. 
 The rebel mind has not resumed its subjection to God till 
 that is done. It remains in the spirit of rebellion ; and in 
 that spirit, obedience to no precept can be acceptably ren- 
 dered. We must first give " the obedience of faith" to God's 
 testimony ; and then the obedience of practice to God's pre-
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 1620. 245 
 
 cepts. The latter is the result and evidence of the former : 
 and it is by both that we " keep the commandment." 
 
 And tMs, as we. have frequently had occasion to urge, is 
 connected with the life and well-being of the souL It is by 
 the faith of God's truth that the soul first receives life 
 spiritual life; and it is in "keeping" God's precepts, under 
 the influence of that faith, that this life of the soul is 
 maintained, enjoyed, and advanced. Everything that is con- 
 trary to God's " commandment," Avars against the life of the 
 souL Hence it is added "But lie that despiseth his way 
 shall die." " His way" we might naturally suppose to mean 
 God's way. But the name of God not occurring in the pre- 
 vious part of the verse, the phrase seems rather meant to 
 describe the man who scornfully disregards all admonitions, 
 both divine and human, who smiles indifferently at every 
 warning ; who follows the " sight of his eyes and the imagi- 
 nation of his heart ; " walking at random, instead of carefully 
 and constantly "cleansing his way, by taking heed thereto 
 according to God's word." "He shall die" "die the 
 death ; " not merely the death that consigns the body to the 
 grave, but the death that consigns the soul to hell " the 
 second death." He shall be lost for ever. 
 
 Verse 1 7. " He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto 
 the Lord ; and that which he hath given will he pay him 
 again." The "pity" in the verse before us, is practical 
 pity ; the pity that gives, the pity that acts, the pity that 
 visits, and comforts, and relieves. It is not the winnings of 
 an unprofitable sentimentalism. It is not the pity of words, 
 that says "Depart in peace be warmed, be filled;" it is 
 the pity of deeds, that " gives those tilings which are needful 
 for the body : " not evaporating in sighs, or drowning itself 
 in tears, but testifying its sympathy by substantial acts of 
 kindness. Its practical character appears in' the very words 
 before us. He is supposed, in the exercise of pity, to give : 
 " he that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord ; 
 and that which he hath given will he pay him again." 
 
 The words imply, first, the Lord's own regard for the 
 poor. The intimation of this in the words, is strong. We
 
 246 LECTURE LT. 
 
 give a more satisfactory assurance of our regard 
 for any one, than when we become responsible for all that 
 is given to him ; declaring whatever is done for him a favour 
 to ourselves, and an obligation laid upon us to the doer or 
 the giver. Thus the Lord here tells us, that all gifts to the 
 poor are loam to Him. 
 
 The mode of expression before us, implies further, a rigid 
 principle on the part of the giver. It is of great moment to 
 mark this. There is much of giving to the poor, that has 
 no principle in it, properly so called, at all ; and there is not 
 a little that springs from such principles and motives as have 
 anything but the sanction of God's word. A man may give 
 to the poor, from the mere imitation of others; from the 
 mere wish to be rid of them ; from the ostentatious love of 
 . '/'//; from the presumption of self-righteousness, and the 
 hope of " covering" by it "the multitude of his sins." Surely 
 the Lord, in such cases, cannot be regarded as approving and 
 accrediting the gift, and placing it in His book of remem- 
 brance as a loan to Himself. He looks to the heart. He has 
 respect to motives. The giver must evidently be considered 
 as having, when he gives, a regard to the Lord; as acting 
 in obedience to His Avill, in imitation of His example, in 
 humble and lively gratitude to Him as the author of all 
 his mercies. He loves and pities the poor, because God 
 loves and pities them, and has made it his duty, and the ap- 
 propriate manifestation of his gratitude, that he should feel 
 tir them, and seek their good. And he does so all the 
 more in the view of the divine example as embodied in the 
 perfect character of the incarnate Redeemer; whose whole life 
 on earth exemplified the fulfilment of the prophecy concern- 
 ing him, " He shall deliver the needy when he crieth ; the 
 poor also, and him that hath no helper. He shall spare the 
 poor and needy, and shall save the souls of the needy. He 
 shall redeem their soul from deceit and violence : and pre- 
 cious shall their blood be in his sight," Psal. Ixxii. 12 14. 
 
 It is implied also, specially, that the gift is bestowed, 
 inth no e-spectftfion of any return from the poor himsdf. It- 
 is not a loan to him, but a gift; and a gift bestowed, not
 
 PROVEKBS XIX. 1620. 247 
 
 from any hope of his becoming available for some selfish 
 purpose at a future time; for then it would have in it, 
 whether the receiver knew the purpose or not, the essential 
 spirit of selfish bribery. It is this disinterested giving that 
 is enjoined, and that is pleasing in God's sight.* The loan 
 is not to the poor, but to the Lord. Hence the words 
 imply still further, the certainty of a divine return, and 
 confidence in that certainty : "and that which he hath given 
 will He pa.y him again" Such is the security. What is 
 given is not lost. It is laid up in the bank of faith, in 
 the exchequer of heaven. It may be returned in blessing 
 here, in the present world. Thus it was promised of old;t 
 and so stands the promises stilLJ And it shall be returned 
 in future rewards of grace, the recornpences of Him who 
 himself "delighteth in niercy." "What a motive is here 
 to the practice of generous, openhanded charity. When 
 given on right principles, the gift is a " laying up of trea- 
 sures in heaven! "|| The invisible character of the security, 
 and the distance of the time of the return, are both trials 
 of faith; and were there more "faith in God," there 
 would be more giving to the poor ; were there more " full 
 assurance of hope," there would be more of the lodging in 
 loans to the Lord, of property above. 
 
 Verses 18, 19. "Chasten thy son while there is hope, 
 and let not thy soul spare for his crying. A man of great 
 wrath shall suffer punishment : for if thou deliver him, yet 
 thou must do it again." This too is a subject which has 
 already been considered. ^F The verses before us, however, 
 suggest some additional views of it ; and it is a subject on 
 which as occasions for the use of the rod are occurring every 
 day and every hour, and thus every day and every hour may 
 good be done by the right, and evil by the wrong application 
 of it parents need to be frequently admonished. Observe, 
 then 1. It is here assumed, that to the parent the infliction 
 of chastisement is painful, that it is a measure adopted 
 
 * See Luke vi. 3136; xiv. 1214. f Dent. xv. 711. 
 
 J 2 Cor. ix. 68. Matt. x. 41, 42 ; 1 Tim. vi. 1719; Heb. vi Jo. 
 1J Conip. Luke xii. 33, 34. f , Chap. xiii. 24.
 
 248 LECTURE LV. 
 
 with, reluctance, involving as it does a strong and distressing 
 conflict between feeling and duty, between the heart and the 
 judgment. All parents who come not under the description 
 '"without natural affection" are tenderly sensible of this. 
 2. Correction with the rod should never be resorted to, 
 when the end designed can be effected by other means, God 
 himself expostulates before he smites. The parent is not to 
 be charged with " sparing the rod," who can effect the ends 
 of discipline Avithout it ; whether by touching the springs 
 of affection, or, where they are at all understood, appealing 
 to higher principles. The Lord's look to - Peter had more 
 effect than the severest visitation could have had. And if a 
 parent has the affections of his children in such a degree, as 
 that a look of grave displeasure shall affect their hearts more 
 deeply with a sense of wrong, than a hundred stripes, why 
 should the hundred stripes, or any one of them be inflicted? 
 3. When the rod is used as used it must at times be 
 the end in view should be, purely and exclusively, the benefit 
 of the child, not the gratification of any resentful passion on 
 the part of the parent. Should the latter be apparent to the 
 child, the effect is lost, and worse than lost; for, instead of 
 the sentiment of grief and melting tenderness, there will be 
 engendered a feeling of sullen hostility, a bitterness and alie- 
 nation of spirit, a secret spurning at the rod, if not even of 
 angry scorn towards him who has manifested selfish passion 
 rather than parental love in the use of it. To avoid so sad 
 a result, I repeat, no parent should allow himself to correct 
 in a passion. If the hand that is trembling with rage seizes 
 the rod, there is almost a certainty of harm rather than good 
 being the result. 4. The verses direct, that it should be 
 used early, by which, of course, must be understood, as soon 
 as the nature and end of correction can be at all supposed to 
 be apprehended. Not sooner, certainly. It were unnatural 
 and reckless cruelty to " chasten with the rod," before there 
 could be any understanding of its design, of the connexion 
 between the chastisement and the fault for which it was in- 
 flicted. This connexion it is of essential importance, dis- 
 tinctly to point out and impress; and as early as there is
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 1620. 249 
 
 reason to think that the correction can be so understood as 
 to serve the purpose of salutary restraint, it may and ought 
 to be begun. The reason is, that it is so much easier to 
 prevent the formation of the habit of evil, than to overcome 
 it when formed. .Nip the first blossoms of sin, as soon as 
 they appear; lest they ripen into "the fruits of Sodom, and 
 the clusters of Gomorrah." 5. You are here taught further, 
 that firmness must be in union with affection in applying the 
 rod. The words seem to express a harsh, yet it is an impor- 
 tant and most salutary lesson : " let not thy. soul spare for 
 his crying." The words do not mean, that you should not 
 feel, very far from that. It was the knowledge that feeling 
 was unavoidable, and that the strength and tenderness of it 
 were ever apt to tempt parents to relent and desist, and leave 
 their end unaccomplished, that made it necessary to warn 
 against too ready a yielding to this natural inclination. The 
 child may cry, and cry bitterly, previously to the correction ; 
 but, when you have reason to think the crying is for the rod 
 rather than for the faidt, and that, but for the threatened 
 chastisement, the heart would probably have been unmoved, 
 and the eyes dry; then you must not allow yourselves to 
 be so unmanned by his tears, as to suspend your pur- 
 pose, and decline its infliction. If a child perceives this, 
 (and soon are children sharp enough to find it out) he 
 has discovered the way to move you next time; and will 
 have recourse to it accordingly. This leads me to remark 
 6. The rod must be used with discriminative proportion 
 according to the magnitude of the fault committed, and 
 according to the variety of tempers with which you have 
 to deal This variety is very great. A look or a word 
 will go deeper into the heart of one child than the severest 
 punishment will affect another. One child is yielding, an- 
 other stubborn; one gentle, another fiery. The great prin- 
 ciple is, that you must not yield till you have gained your 
 end. Violent, ungovernable tempers must be met with calm 
 but settled and determined firmness ; they must be subdued : 
 your point must be steadily and peremptorily maintained ; to 
 give way, would only be to increase the evil, and greatly to
 
 250 LECTURE LV. 
 
 augment your own difficulty and suffering on a recurrence of 
 the need for chastisement, and the necessity of giving way 
 again. In tins sense, and in this connexion, the nineteenth 
 y?-rst- is understood by many, and, at any rate, the principle 
 of it bears a clear and forcible application to the case of 
 correction : " A man of great wrath shall suffer punishment : 
 for if thou deliver him, yet thou must do it again." Just 
 substitute child for man; and mark how true the statement 
 is. If the child is " once delivered" from chastisement, if 
 " his crying," which in this case is the crying of tumultuous 
 and bitter passion, once prevail to induce the giving up of the 
 point, and of the attempt to inflict " the rod," the presump- 
 tion groAvs. Passion, thus accomplishing its end, will rage 
 with the greater fury next time ; will cry, and writhe, and 
 spurn, and kick, with the more determined violence : and 
 " thou must do it again" The words may be used either of 
 the deliverance or of the correction. Your delivering him, 
 or allowing him to escape once, will, in the way just men- 
 tioned, produce the stronger necessity for your letting him 
 off again: or (wliich is better) punish now; for if not, it 
 must be done, and done with the greater severity to him, 
 and the greater pain to yourself, in consequence of indul- 
 gence having confirmed and accumulated the evil, and ren- 
 dered it the more hard to subdue. 
 
 I have taken the 19th verse in connexion with the 18th 
 as applying remarkably well to the case of high-spirited and 
 passionate children. They need not, however, be thus limited. 
 They are understood by some commentators, as signifying 
 that violent passions ever inflict their oim punishment upon 
 their unhappy subjects. These men are their own tormentors. 
 They are never at rest. They are ever falling into scrapes 
 and difficulties, and quarrels, and suits. You may "deliver" 
 them but they are no sooner freed from one, than they run 
 into another, thus punishing themselves, and keeping their 
 friends in incessant vexation and trouble. 
 
 The words may also mean, in regard to wrathful men, 
 what we have considered them as signifying in regard to 
 wrathful children; that they ought to be punished,
 
 
 FPwOVERBS XIX. 1& 20. 251 
 
 punished now in order to break and subdue tlieir violence. 
 It is better to coerce them firmly at once, as the only likely 
 means of bringing them to their senses, and preventing in- 
 cessant repetitions of their offensive and violent conduct. 
 
 Terse 20. " Hear counsel and receive instruction, that 
 thou mayest be wise in thy latter end" This brief counsel 
 is in harmony with the whole of the introductory portion of 
 this book, as well as with others of its proverbial sayings. 
 " Thy latter end" there can be no doubt, r~efers to death; 
 to the time of bidding a final adieu to the world and all its 
 relations and interests. That " latter end," indeed, is not the 
 end of our being. Were it so, the words " that thou may- 
 est be wise in thy latter end" would be bereft of all their 
 meaning. The wisdom, in that case, both for life in its 
 prime, and life in its close, would be, " Let us eat and drink, 
 for to-morrow we die!" 
 
 Wisdom in our " latter end" has reference to our prepara 
 tion for what is beyond, for the subsequent eternity of our 
 being : compared with which the present life is " less than 
 nothing and vanity," and from its relation to which, as its 
 preparatory stage, the present derives all its value. He who, 
 at the end of life, is unprepared for the life to come, vail 
 then feel himself to have been a fool all his days. He 
 reaches the verge of a never-ending and never -changing 
 state of existence ; and the time given him to prepare for it 
 has been wasted all wasted, on its own worthless and pass- 
 ing interests. Even if the man has lived what is called 
 a virtuous life, without any extraordinary out -breakings 
 of the grosser vices vet, if he has been a man of the Avorld, 
 without God, and without any such anticipations of eter- 
 nity as to induce preparation for it in earnest, in the only 
 way in which such preparation can be made by a sinful crea- 
 ture by an interest in the work of Christ and the work of 
 the Holy Spirit, by obtaining through the one the pardon of 
 sin, and through the other a renewed and holy heart; he 
 will then be found, in regard to all that is before him all 
 the vast and incalculable interests of the future world, 
 emphatically a fool. It is a sad thing to live a fool ; it is a
 
 252 LECTURE LV. 
 
 much sadder tiling to die a fool But the one generally 
 follows the other. The greater proportion of men die as 
 they live. Wouldst thou then be wise in "thy latter end 1 ?" 
 attend now to the affectionate admonition: "HEAR 
 
 COUXSEL, AND RECEIVE INSTRUCTION." 
 
 What can all the science and philosophy of the world do 
 for a man, any more than its wealth, to make him " wise in 
 his latter end?" 
 
 , 
 
 " Yon cottager, who weaves at her own door, 
 Pillow anl bobbins all her little store, 
 Content, though mean, and cheerful if not gay, 
 Shuffling her threads about the live-long day, 
 Just earns a scanty pittance, and at night 
 Lies down secure, her heart and pocket light: 
 Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true, 
 A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew, 
 And in that charter reads, with sparkling eyes, 
 Her title to a treasure in the skies ! 
 Oil! happy peasant! Oh! unhappy bard! 
 His the mere tinsel, hers the rich reward: 
 He, praised perhaps for ages yet to come, 
 She, never heard of half a mile from home: 
 He, lost in errors his vain heart prefers, 
 She, safe in the simplicity of hers!" 
 
 All the wit of Voltaire, and all the fulsome flattery of 
 his friends, could hut ill suppress the horrors of his dying 
 hours. He could not bear the very mention of the name of 
 Jesus. Hume died " as a fool dieth." The concealed but, 
 it is behoved, authentic accounts of the nurse that waited 
 upon him, attest the secret misgivings, groans and agonies of 
 his dying chamber: but, even were there no truth in them, 
 his low pitiful jestings were more affecting by far than the 
 direst distress. Even on his own principles, even on the 
 supposition of death being the final cessation of conscious 
 existence, was that a time for indulging in dull attempts at 
 drollery 1 ? Surely, the very idea of the complete and ever- 
 lasting extinction of all those powers of thought and specula- 
 tion and inquiry, which had engaged his life, and which were 
 on the stretch for further effort and further acquisition, the 
 quenching of all this light, the transition from a living, in-
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 1620. 253 
 
 telligent, active mind, capable of everlasting expansion and 
 corresponding enlargement of knowledge and delight, to a 
 clod of earth, a mere handful of unconscious dust, was 
 enough to make any man seriously thoughtful, and to ren- 
 der joking, and such joking, most unnatural and unreasonable, 
 and to excite more than a suspicion that there was a lurking 
 unbelief of his own philosophy, and an appalling apprehen- 
 sion of a life to come, which this drivelling facetiousness 
 was meant to cover from observation. And what is the 
 wisdom that can only enable a man to say, as Tindal said 
 " If there be a God, I desire that he may have mercy upon 
 me?" Is it wisdom to leave even a doubt on such subjects 
 to the " latter end ]" It is he who " hears counsel and receives 
 instruction," the counsel and instruction of God whose 
 " latter end is peace." It is he, who, viewing the full har- 
 mony of the divine perfections in the salvation of sinners 
 through the mediation of Jesus, can look forward without 
 alarm, can cast himself on the covenanted mercy of God, 
 and anticipate death as a release from the sorrows and the sins 
 of mortality, and the introduction to perfect purity and " ful- 
 ness of joy." It is he who can say, in triumph over the fears 
 of death and the grave, of judgment and of hell " I am now 
 ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. 
 I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I 
 have kept the faith : henceforth there is laid up for me a 
 crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, 
 shall give me at that day : and not to me only, but unto 
 all them also that love his appearing," 2 Tim. iv. 6 8.
 
 .es is .zix gaaavoai 
 
 "a'. 
 
 JboO ( ;taafliaiBtt6 iledi 1o saBam Las aruslq adt d-ii 
 Jbflfi ^too shew at abna oftioaqa ,rrwo &iH lo glaamjoo sad 
 slid lo atiqg ni bad&ilqmoooB ad asadJ Usda vjtao ion -ted-t 
 ad ILeds "aoivab " Yjay aaadJ tedJ tod ,rjam lo "aaoivab" 
 KB ifidi taamdadqmoooc liarfd cxt dflsmagcTtta Baiebflgi 
 at ae ^sIupa^^^jt-rl^JaaiilvoftTacf He da OBioird ei 
 8JiohtBoMIqfli9Z9 HWWB g U Ik _u ^ffiepf' .oitrviJj gj tedw 
 afrrooaa aeadt hrtB : ^oteid boiiqgfli lo gbioosi adJ m aidt lo 
 -be anivib adt dordw ^d &s.^TMm^~adt lo naxnioaqB e 
 
 TOW ftdi ^ < xjVS!.3 8 ^ ^ 
 SBW doidyf "aoivaf)" aifJ^/; '^ixl j - .:[J oi 
 
 "There are many devices in a man's heart: nevertheless the counsel of the 
 Lord, that shall stand. The desire of a man is his kindness; siud a poor man is 
 better than a liar. The fear of the Lord tendeth to life: and he that hath it 
 shall abide satisfied ; he shall not be visited with evil. A slothful man hideth 
 his hand in his bosom, and will not so much as bring it to bis month Bgain. 
 Smite a scorner, and the simple will beware; and reprove one that hath under- 
 standing. and he will understand knowledge. He that wasteth his father, and 
 clwseth away his mother, is a son that causeth shame, and bringeth reproach. 
 Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of 
 knowledge. An ungodly witness scorneth judgment: and the mouth ot the 
 wicked devoureth iniquity. Judgments are prepared for scorners, and stripes 
 for the back of fools." 
 
 -o Baa fl ad bfuods y\ 
 
 THE first of these verses contains a very important truth ; a 
 truth which mar occasion many crosses and pains in the pre- 
 sent experience even of the children of God, but which, in 
 the final winding-up of the entire system of His providential 
 administration, will, on the retrospect, fill their minds with 
 admiring satisfaction, their hearts with gratitude, and their 
 lips with praise. 
 
 The word* are susceptible of a more limited, and of a 
 more enlarged, interpretation. By some they are under- 
 stood as meaning no more than that human counsels succeed 
 only to the extent to which God purposes they should ; 
 that "all our ways" are entirely under His control; so that 
 in no case can we go one step further than He permits. 
 
 This, however, is but a branch of a more general position ; 
 namely, that while in the hearts of men there are " many
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 2129. 255 
 
 devices," many desires, intentions, and resolutions, many 
 objects, with the plans and means of their attainment, God 
 has counsels of His own, specific ends to work out; and 
 that not only shall these he accomplished in spite of the 
 "devices" of men, hut that these very "devices" shall he 
 rendered subservient to their accomplishment that all that 
 is human shall be so directed and overruled, as to effect 
 what is divine. Many and striking are the exemplifications 
 of this in the records of inspired history : and these records 
 contain a specimen of the principles by which the divine ad- 
 ministration of the government of the world is still, and shall 
 to the end be, conducted. Look at the "device" which was 
 in the hearts of Joseph's brethren : '' They said one to 
 another, Behold this dreamer cometh. Come now there- 
 fore, and let us slay him, and cast him into some pit, 
 and we will say, Some evil beast hath devoured him : 
 and we sit all see what will 'become, of Ms dreams!"'" 
 These words were uttered with a bitter sneer with a "leer 
 malign" upon their countenances, as their eyes glanced 
 to each other, and their jealous and resentful pride kindled 
 the more. They were devising, as they thought, the most 
 effectual means for frustrating all that those dreams had 
 seemed to import : there should be an end of them noic. 
 And no doubt, had they fulfilled their present purpose, an 
 end to them there had been. But so it was not to be. 
 There were other "devices" suggested " Shed no blood," said 
 Reuben, " but cast him into this pit that is in the wilderness, 
 and lay no hand upon him;" and then there was that of 
 Judah "What profit is it if we slay our brother, and con- 
 ceal his blood? Come, and let us sell him to the Ishmael- 
 ites, and let not our hand be upon him."* This their last 
 "device" they thought as likely to be effectual in bringing 
 his presumptuous dreams to nothing as their first. But 
 what was the result? "the counsel of the Lord, that stood." 
 This act of theirs was the very means of accomplishing it. 
 How speaks Joseph himself to them twenty years afterward ? 
 
 >d 
 * See Gen. xxxrii. 19 27.
 
 256 LECTURE LVI. 
 
 - Now therefore be not grieved nor angry with y 
 that ye sold me hither: / ' / ftg& /,- /./,/? //</ to 
 jgffKTce. ///*."* And what were all the " devices" which were 
 fmmed and executed by the "wicked generation" that "cru- 
 cified the Lord of glory I" "\Vhen the}- had taken their coun- 
 sels, had got Judas successfully bribed, had got possession of 
 their victim, and by intimidation of Pilate, had obtained his 
 sentence of death, and had "nailed him to the tree;" did 
 they, by all this, carried out by them in the freedom and 
 the guilt of their lawless passions, frustrate any purpose of 
 heaven ? " The counsel of the Lord, that stood : " " Him, 
 being delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge 
 of God,'' said Peter to them afterwards, ye " have taken, and 
 '/red liaivis have crucified and slaiu."t And thus it is 
 in every event. Jehovah, the Universal Ruler, carries for- 
 ward the designs of His providence, great and small, amidst, 
 and by means of, the infinitely varying and crossing, the ap- 
 parently conflicting, capricious, and random volitions and 
 determinations of agents, who, all the while, feel themselves 
 free, and who, in all that is necessary to moral responsibility, 
 are free, acting under no mechanical impulses or destina- 
 tions of fatalism, but doing what they please, as disposition 
 and motive influence them, without restraint and without 
 compulsion! "Such knowledge is too wonderful for ns." 
 Every attempt to comprehend it quite overpowers us. It is 
 one of those many things in the moral world, as there are 
 many too in the physical, wliich make us feel the limita- 
 tion of our faculties, and, if rightly considered and im- 
 proved, may impress ns with a becoming and salutary " hum- 
 bleness of mind." 
 
 I have said that the operation of this truth may be often 
 painful We are naturally fond of our oicn " devices" "We 
 fancy them wise. "We anticipate from them the most bene- 
 ficial results ; and we dwell on the anticipation with delight. 
 Tint impediments come in the way. Obstacles present them- 
 , and sometimes from, quarters whence we least ex- 
 
 * Gen. xlv. 5. -(- Acts ii. 23.
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 2129. 257 
 
 pected them, and where their occurrence occasions us the 
 bitterest disappointment. Our great difficulty then is to see 
 the hand of God, or to retain the firm conviction that " all 
 things are of HIM." Yet so assuredly it is. " Clouds 
 and darkness" may be "round about him." This is the trial 
 of our faith. There will be light in the end all light 
 He will give us to see that " His counsel has stood," and 
 that it has been well for us that our "devices" have not. 
 
 W- must not, on the other hand, forget, that while God 
 in mercy frustrates many of our " devices," that " His coun- 
 sel may stand," it is sometimes a part of His counsel to 
 chasten His people, both individually and socially, by allow- 
 ing their "devices" and plans to succeed. He may frustrate 
 the purpose of one, and give effect to the opposite purpose 
 of another. In both ways He may chasten ; or the one may 
 be favour, and the other correction, correction, such as may 
 not be felt at the time, but felt in all its bitterness afterwards. 
 
 Verse 22. "The desire of a man is his kindness: and a 
 poor man is better than a liar." The meaning commonly 
 affixed to this verse is probably the true one that kindness 
 is to be measured by the amount of a man's desires to do good, 
 rather than by the amount of his ability. Any other prin- 
 ciple of estimate would be most unfair in regard to a very 
 numerous class of our fellow-men. There may be a great 
 deal of genuine and generous kindness in the heart of a poor 
 man, who has nothing beyond desires and wishes in his 
 power. The heart may be full, when the hand is empty. 
 In this respect, the Bible principle is that of the purest 
 equity " It is required according to what a man hath, and 
 not according to that he hath not." 
 
 But let it be observed and remembered " the desires of 
 a man are not his kindness," when he has the ability to be 
 practically kind, and confines himself to desires. No. In 
 that case, there is the clearest of all evidence that the desire 
 is not sincere; mere profession, without reality "love in 
 word" which is only another phrase for no love at all* 
 
 * Comp. James ii. 15, 16. 
 II. B
 
 268 LECTURE LYI. 
 
 While, therefore, there are cases in which we cheerfully, ac- 
 cording to a common phrase, " take the will for the < ' 
 knowing that there is a want of ability to do what the heart 
 u-i-hes, there are other cases, in which we demand the 
 deed as the only proof of the will, the gift as the only evi- 
 dence of the charity. The poor man, who is sincerely will- 
 ing and desirous to serve us, had he but the power, is as 
 much entitled to our lively and affectionate gratitude as if 
 he had actually done us the service. 
 
 Such, in this connexion, seems to be the import of the 
 second clause of the verse " A poor man is better than a 
 liar" The liar is the hypocritical and empty promiser ; the 
 man of many words, but no deeds, of large and nattering 
 assurances, but no performance. The poor man, who is sin- 
 cere in his kind desires, is " better" better incomparably 
 in, himself, in the sterling principles of his character; and 
 better to us, in the comfort and satisfaction imparted to our 
 minds in our times of need, than the man who talks as if 
 his whole heart were love, but who proves by his conduct 
 that his heart is all in his tongue, and that it is there only 
 to teach it to He ; the man who gives us to expect much, 
 but from whom nothing is obtained ; who turns out " a 
 cloud without water ; " or to use the apt comparison of Job 
 respecting his friends, is like the "stream of the brooks" 
 in the parched and burning desert, that rapidly passes away, 
 and balks the eager anticipations of the thirsty and fainting 
 caravan. The true sense, therefore, seems to be given by an 
 interpreter and translator, who renders the verse freely 
 " The glory of a man is his beneficence ; but better is the 
 poor man than he that falsely professeth it."* This render- 
 ing indeed, of the former, part of the verse proceeds on the 
 supposition of "desire" meaning that which is the object of 
 Jesire; and so it is understood by others. An eminent 
 critic renders " That which is desirable, or praiseworthy, in 
 a man, is his kindness or beneficence." t I prefer the sense 
 v.-e have before put on this part of the verse. And, from the 
 
 ,. fSclmlz.
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 2129. -259 
 
 whole, we should learn, first, to beware ourselves of all false, 
 lying, hypocritical professions of kindness, of which the 
 sincerity is not evinced by the gift and act. The mouth and 
 the purse are far from being always equally open. On the 
 contrary, it is often Avhere most is said that least is done ; 
 and where there are fewest Avords that most is got. Let us 
 be of those who say little and do much, rather than of those 
 who say much and do little. And we should further learn 
 to be just to all, in our estimates of their "kindness." "We 
 are in great danger of forming our estimates, and cherishing 
 our feelings of gratitude, according to the amount of relief or 
 of benefit actually obtained and enjoyed by ourselves. Yet 
 it is the " kindness" not the mere gift considered in itself, that 
 should be the measure of our gratitude. "When a man 
 pinches himself to help us, but can do comparatively little, 
 we are more indebted to him than to the man who may give 
 largely, and yet hardly touch even his superfluity. 
 
 There is another sense closely connected with the one 
 which the clause preceding suggests in which " a poor man 
 is better than a liar." Men may not only lie in their pro- 
 fo give; they may lie as a meam of getting. .Now, it 
 is better far that a man remain poor, than that he make rich 
 by lying, that is, by any false, deceptive, dishonourable 
 means. Yes, ye upright poor, it is better far, far better for 
 your reputation, for your peace of conscience, for your trust 
 in Providence, and even for the probabilities of your ulti- 
 mately getting on in the world. On your " honest poverty "' 
 
 he smile of Heaven; and the very sense of your 
 ritij places you in regard to respectability and happiness im- 
 measurably above the man who is rich at the expense of truth. 
 
 Verse 23. "The fear of the Lord tendeth to life: and he 
 that hath it shall abide satisfied; he shall not be visited 
 with evil Supplements, in any translation, generally indi- 
 cate some degree of obscurity in the original. There is ob- 
 scurity in the middle clause of this verse where our transla- 
 tors have supplied he who hath it; a supplement which is 
 sufficiently bold. The word for satisfied may be either the 
 verb to be full, or the adjective full or filled. The word
 
 LECTURE LVI. 
 
 rendered " abide" may signify to pass the night to lie < 
 to res f^ kail 
 
 down 
 
 From these significations of the different words, various 
 have been the senses affixed to the clause. " The full" has 
 been understood of those who are full of prosperity and the 
 pride which it engenders; and by an alteration in the con- 
 nexion of the words in the latter part of the verse, it has 
 liftMi made to declare of him, that "he shall lie down in it, 
 and that he shall be visited with evil." But this interpre- 
 tation, like one or two others, does not seem at all natural or 
 satisfactory. 
 
 To myself it appears, that, taking the word for "satisfied" 
 more literally as meaning fall or filled, and the word for 
 abide as signifying rest, or passing the night in quietness and 
 peace the verse might be rendered " The fear of the Lord 
 is unto life; and he who is filled with it shall rest; he shall 
 not be visited with evil" The sense is thus not materially 
 different from that of our received version. 
 
 The idea is the delightful one of felt security tranquil, 
 settled repose and serenity of spirit, from confidence in God's 
 wisdom, faithfulness, and power, and an assured sense of His 
 love. While in person, in family, and in substance, the 
 fearer of God is not exempt from trials : while he has suffer- 
 ings, and feels them, and they are not, in themselves, to him 
 more than to others, "joyous, but grievous" yet in them 
 "he is not visited with evil;" for that is not really evil, 
 which is the divinely ordained means of his greatest good. 
 He knows " that cannot hurt which comes from God." He 
 knows that there is not a power in the universe that can 
 "visit him with evil," independently of "God's will; for "if 
 God be for him, who can be against him 1 " And if the " evil " 
 that comes, comes under the direction of His will, the gra- 
 cious nature of the purpose for which it is sent, changes, in 
 the estimation of the sufferer, its very character transmut- 
 ing it into good : temporal privation being spiritual acquisi- 
 tion ; the pains of he body, the health of the soul ; the suf- 
 ferings of time, the preparatives for eternity. Thus " the 
 fear of the Lord is unto life" tending to the enjoyment
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 2129. 261 
 
 of the present life; and, springing as it does from the 
 faith of divine truth, to the final attainment of "life ever- 
 lasting." 
 
 Verse 24. "A slothful man hidetli his haud in his bo- 
 som, and will not so much as bring it to Ms mouth again." 
 It is agreed among critics, that the word translated bosom 
 ought to be rendered, according to its more direct and literal 
 signification dish* And, so understood, it is hardly pos- 
 sible to conceive a stronger or more graphic description of 
 the sluggard: he "droppeth his hand into the dish, it 
 grieveth him to bring it again to his mouth." Indolent, 
 lazy men are generally fond enough of their meat ; but they 
 like their ease even better. They would fain make the two 
 compatible, and have their meat without the trouble of tak- 
 ing it. ! if it would but just drop into their mouth! You 
 have here the poor yawning wretch at Ms meal It is quite 
 a toil to him. Having got a mouthful, he lets his hand 
 drop heavily into the dish; and, while Ms jaws go lazily 
 about the process of mastication, it is long before he can be 
 at the trouble to raise it again with another. It is literally 
 with him, according to the proverb " Slow at meat slow 
 at work." 
 
 But there is a general sentiment under the particular 
 figure. The sentiment is, that indolence, growing upon its 
 miserable subject, comes to feel even the very slightest exer- 
 tion, however necessary, an insufferable, annoyance. A good 
 may be witMn immediate reach quite at hand the small- 
 est possible trouble may obtain it; yet it will remain un- 
 secured. The opportunity will pass. He will yawn, and 
 wish, and resolve, but do notMng still saying "time 
 enough!" till it is gone; and then, having yawned out his 
 ineffective wishes, he will, in the same spirit of listlessness, 
 yawn out again Ms unavailing regrets. Or perhaps he may 
 fall back on fatalism a system most congenial to the spirit 
 of sloth, and find out that it was not ordained that he should 
 have the tMng! 
 
 'ii 10 8g; 
 
 * See 2 Kings xxi. 13; 2 Chr. xxxv. 13.
 
 2,52 LECTURE I/VI. 
 
 Verse 25. " Smite a scorner, and the simple will beware ; 
 and reprove one that hath understanding, and he will under- 
 stand knowledge." Observe here 1. There is an intended 
 contrast, in the two clauses of the verse, between smiting and 
 reproving ; the one signifying the severity of punitive disci- 
 pline, the other simply verbal admonition and rebuke. The 
 former required in the case of the froward " scorner ; " the lat- 
 ter only in the case of the " man of understanding." 2. The 
 scorner and the simple, in the first clause, are understood 
 by some of the same person : " Smite a scorner, and the in- 
 fatuated man will beware." * The " scorner" however, in other 
 parts of this book, as we have more than once seen, is dis- 
 tinguished by the very fact of his incorrigibility in his self- 
 willed frowardness : "A reproof entereth more into a wise 
 man than a hundred stripes into a fool." It is much more 
 likely that by "the simple" we are to understand, not the 
 "scorner" himself, but those who are in danger of being 
 brought under his influence, and corrupted by his example. 
 They are those the young especially -who are not yet 
 hackneyed in evil ; who have not yet learned to " mock at 
 sin," but who are exposed to the peril of the wayward and 
 hardened "scorner's" power over them. Although we would 
 be far from laying down the principle that any man should 
 be punished beyond his desert for the sake of others ; that 
 a heavier infliction should be laid upon him than his crime 
 will at all justify, merely that the in terrorem example may 
 have the more powerful effect ; yet it is a perfectly legitimate 
 motive for the infliction, promptly and firmly, of such pun- 
 ishment as is deserved, that others may be warned, and may 
 be dissuaded from similar courses; or, in the language of our 
 criminal courts, " may be deterred from such crimes in all 
 time coming." To go beyond desert, would be unjust; it 
 would be injuring one man for the benefit of others; it 
 would be "doing evil, that good might come." But that the 
 warning of others is a legitimate end in the infliction of 
 merited punishment, is universally admitted ; and it has the 
 
 * Schultens.
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 2129. 263 
 
 sanction of God's word. " :: ~ Simplicity, when taken as at all 
 meaning what is evil, signifies inconsideration heedlcssness. 
 "The simple will beware" literally "will be cunning" 
 means their being put on their guard, so as to apply a cau- 
 tion as artful to repel seduction, as the guile employed to 
 seduce them. 3. While the punishment of the "scorner" 
 benefits others, the reproof of the wise man benefits himself. 
 He takes it in good part, and profits by it. 
 
 Verse 26. "He that wasteth his father, and chaseth away 
 his mother, is a son that causeth shame, and bringeth re- 
 proach." On reading this verse, we are ready to start, and to 
 exclaim A son " that wasteth his father, and chaseth away 
 ///* mother!" Can such a monster exist! Can there be one 
 who thus resists the strongest impulses, and belies the tender- 
 est claims of his nature ? Would that the character existed 
 only in fancy ! It was a reality in Solomon's time ; it is a 
 reality in. ours. Amongst the black and base characters, of 
 which catalogues are at times given in the word of God, " with- 
 out natural affection" is one. It is not the mere wayward- 
 ness and passion of childhood that is meant in this descrip- 
 tion. Oh ! it is something incomparably worse than that ! 
 We have here before us a youth, who has fallen into habits 
 of profligacy who casts off parental restraint, as unwor- 
 thy the regard of a lad of spirit; who, for the gratifica- 
 tion of his foolish extravagancies and his expensive vices, 
 " wastes his father," making free, in every way in which, he 
 can lay his hand on it, with his substance, reckless if he 
 should bring both him and the family to poverty; who 
 " chases away his mother," driving her from him, when, 
 even with the tears of maternal love she would expostulate 
 and plead with him; caring for nothing but coercion, and 
 taking advantage of her known inability to use it; scorning 
 her tears it may be her widowed tears, tears with which 
 tears of kindred sympathy have ceased to flow, and whose 
 tender pleadings there is now 110 sterner authority to en- 
 force ! Such youths, alas ! the fatal power of evil has 
 
 * See Deut. xiii. 11; xxi. 21.
 
 264 LECTURE LVI. 
 
 ma( le j an d such youths " cause shame, and bring reproach." 
 They are a scandal to their parents and their families ; and 
 a nuisance to society : and their doom is reprobation and 
 ignominy, as the merited consequence to themselves. The 
 youth who can so use a mother is " fit for treasons." There 
 is not a crime in the whole catalogue of infamy, of which I 
 cannot suppose him capable; nor is there any symptom 
 more sadly portentous, of a life of crime, and a death of 
 shame and misery. 
 
 In the verse we have what may be regarded as the ex- 
 treme of the evil. It is evidently susceptible of many inter- 
 mediate degrees : and they are all bad. Of what Solomon 
 calls "wasting a father" some youths are apt to form a very 
 false idea of the wickedness. The circumstance of its being 
 their father's property they are appropriating and squander- 
 ing, makes them think of their conduct with comparative 
 lightness. Yet if wrong is to be measured by the amount of 
 obligation to the party wronged, in what case can the crime 
 be more atrocious than in that of a son robbing a father? 
 And let every child and every young person hearing me be- 
 ware as they value their own peace of mind, the approba- 
 tion and esteem of men, and the favour of God, of acting 
 such a part as would send one pang to the heart, or draw 
 one tear of bitterness to the eye, of the mother that bare 
 them. ! knew you but a tithe of what you owe to that 
 maternal fondness that watched and wept over your cradle ; 
 Avould you appreciate the meltings, the solicitudes, the fears, 
 the hopes, the sorrows, the joys of a mother's bosom, affec- 
 tion for that mother would be the last of the affections that 
 could take leave of your hardening heart its warm drops 
 the last that the iron hand of vice could wring out of it. 
 
 There appears to be a connexion between this verse and 
 that which follows " Cease, my son, to hear the instruction 
 that causeth to err from the words of knowledge." In re- 
 gard to the young, who have, under parental tuition, re- 
 ceived "the words of knowledge," the knowledge that 
 teaches them the "fear of the Lord as the beginning of wisdom," 
 and lays them under the restraints, the salutary restraints, of
 
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 2129. 265 
 
 the divine law, not unfrequently does it happen, that the 
 delusive reasonings and sophistical plausibilities of scepti- 
 cism and infidelity, supporting as they do a system that has 
 many recommendations to the carnal mind, and aiming at 
 the unsettling and subversion of that which, though it has 
 the secret sanction of conscience, is far from palatable to the 
 natural inclinations of the heart, serve to undermine the 
 influence, and to loosen the hold, of better lessons. The lies 
 of systems of error, like the first lie itself, have generally in 
 them something fascinating, something that the wayward 
 heart likes, and which gives a deceptive colouring and spe- 
 ciousness to the arguments by which they are maintained. 
 They are agreeable and insinuating. Their adA-ocates season 
 them with wit, and impart to them the aspect of great liber- 
 ality of spirit and freedom from restraint, a restraint which 
 is represented, tauntingly, as unmanly, and fit only for the 
 nursery and the leading-strings of childhood. This is all very 
 taking and bewitching to young, inconsiderate, and hardly 
 settled minds. When such principles enter, and get hold 
 of the passions, and through the passions bribe and corrupt 
 the understanding, restraint is thrown off timidly, it may 
 be, at first, but with a growing scorn and boldness; the 
 reins are cast on the necks of the passions; a course of 
 self-indulgence, in every way that vice and fancy dictate, is 
 pursued ; the family patrimony is invaded and squandered ; 
 a mother's tenderness, the tenderness of remonstrance and 
 tears, is indignantly resisted; he " wasteth his father, 
 and chaseth away his mother." I am fully persuaded, that 
 in by far the greater number of cases, the principles of ac- 
 tion are corrupted before the principles of belief; that the 
 first thing is, the "putting away of a good conscience" by 
 temptation to sin, and then the "making shipwreck of faith." 
 Enticements are held out, in various ways, to that which is 
 evil. The evil is done. The conscience is for the time ill 
 at ease. But the evil is sweet, and it is repeated. Con- 
 science drives its stings still more tormentingly into the 
 bosom. The fretfulness and sullenuess of self-dissatisfaction 
 ensue. But conscience gets gradually seared. The emol-
 
 26 6 LECTURE LVI. 
 
 lients of self- flattering error are applied to its wounds. The 
 principles are accommodated to the practice. He who be- 
 gan in vice ends in infidelity. And the final result is, a 
 course of wild and ungovernable licentiousness. 
 
 Mark, then, ye youth, the counsel now before you; the 
 counsel of human experience, the counsel of compassionate 
 kindness, the counsel of divine authority : " Cease, my 
 son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the 
 words of knowledge." CEASE. If you have ventured to 
 open your ear, shut it now ; and open it to " the words of 
 knowledge" the words of divine instruction. 
 
 Verse 28. " An ungodly witness scorneth judgment ; and 
 the mouth of the wicked devoureth iniquity." Observe 
 here that the designation "an ungodly witness" is, on the 
 margin, " a witness of Belial." Sons of Belial is a common 
 appellation of impious and unprincipled men. " A witness 
 of Belial," or "an ungodly witness" is not, I think, to be 
 understood, in this connexion, of a witness called to give 
 evidence in a cause, between parties, before magistrates or 
 arbitrators. The two parts of the verse, taken together, ap- 
 pear to contain a very apt description of the characters of 
 those alluded to in the previous verse by whose "instruc- 
 tion" the youth are made "to err from the words of know- 
 ledge ; " men, who, instead of witnessing for God, witness 
 for Belial that is for wickedness and folly personified ; all 
 whose conversation is on the side of evil, their testimony, 
 by word and act, favourable to it, and unfavourable to good- 
 ness, and to the great concentration and prototype of all 
 goodness. The verse, then, contains the character of those 
 irom whose counsel the young are warned to cease. They 
 are men who vaunt themselves of their freedom from the 
 restraints of law and justice, laugh at scruples of conscience, 
 cast away the cords of authority, set at nought threat- 
 ened judgments ; their " mouth devoureth iniquity" open- 
 ing wide to receive, and greedily and voraciously swallowing 
 down the pleasures of sin and of the world. And the clos- 
 ing verse presents a warning to flee their counsel verse 29. 
 " Judgments are prepared for scorners, and stripes for the
 
 PROVERBS XIX. 2120, 267 
 
 back of fools." "Judgments" are not merely temporal chas- 
 tisements those visitations of Heaven which sometimes over- 
 take the God-defying sinner even in the present life: they 
 are to be understood more especially of those final and fear- 
 ful "judgments" which are denounced from heaven against all 
 the workers of iniquity the " scorners" and the "fools." 
 "Scorners" are those who tempt and seduce; and "fools" are 
 those who listen and yield to their seducing temptations, and 
 follow them in their evil courses. The former shall be 
 " beaten with many stripes." But the latter shall not escape. 
 Having cast in their lot with them here, they must lay their 
 account with sharing it too hereafter. And both the one 
 and the other shall suffer accordir.rr to the amount of light 
 and privilege they have respectively enjoyed. how 
 powerfully does all this recommend and enforce the advice 
 or rather the authoritative though gracious injunction 
 "Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err 
 from the words of knowledge!" Cease as you would avoid 
 the judgments and the stripes of offended holiness and om- 
 nipotence. " It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of 
 the living God ! " 
 
 In conclusion Let all, young and old, remember, that 
 there is one point, in regard to which, let what devices so- 
 ever be in their hearts, "the counsel of the Lord that shall 
 stand." God has fixed the way of a sinner's salvation. He 
 has made it known in His word. There you find His counsel 
 in this matter, the first of all to you, both in order and in 
 importance. It stands there, the unchanging counsel of the 
 unchanging God. He can never depart from it. It is 
 framed in adaptation to the glory of His own character and 
 government, and to the exigencies of man's condition. It 
 admits not of alteration. It cannot be improved; it must 
 not be modified. As the counsel of God for a certain end, 
 it is the only counsel by which that end can be answered. 
 
 "BY GRACE ARE YE SAVED, THROUGH FAITH" faith in Christ 
 
 faith in the righteousness and atonement of a divine Sa- 
 viour. This and this alone is the counsel of God, for your 
 salvation.
 
 eas x 
 
 jD9n teomlfi amoostf gfiif bn 
 a idl foow sift :m\v\j si enrw T 
 no enoiteoildi/q edi lo vrsl jj don nl 
 wit iWiw Lsnossihad egaq tofts e$nq svfi/i 
 
 1 -ipA-, h^ JT T) p T V T T 
 fusl euoiuw JBteMJl- v it .EJ lj * 1 1 . 
 
 f)fl odimha ,omtf 9m8 off.3 te ,ovr,d sW .ffs 
 n't ,rloiffv/- Oit 398goooiq 8i;oifr>T*oJ J lo eiroiifqi 
 -dus 8B7/ aqjjig arid lo oaj rlnuoo 
 
 oiq oe&di \d L 
 
 "Wine is a mocker, strong drink is rasing; and whosoever is deceived thereby 
 is not wise." 
 i lo ifJorf 
 
 IT is now nearly five years since, in illustrating the " fruits 
 of the Spirit" enumerated by Paul in his Epistle to the 
 Galatians, I called your attention, in three discourses, to the 
 subject of temperance. It is by no means my purpose to 
 enter into the subject at so much length at present, or to 
 attempt anything like what might be called a full discussion 
 either of the claims of the total abstinence system, or of the 
 merits, on the one side or the other, of what has now been 
 technically denominated the wine question. All that I in-' 
 tend is, as briefly and as simply as I can, to collect, upon 
 two or three points, the lights of Scripture ; and to do this 
 in such a manner as to show that even to ordinary readers 
 of the Bible, there is no difficulty in the matter, if they will 
 only bring to the inquiry the principles of sound and unpre- 
 judiced common sense. 
 
 The text brings before us three things : 
 
 1. Certain articles "Wine and strong drink" 
 
 2. Certain tendencies ascribed to them : " Wine is a 
 mocker, strong drink is raging : " and 
 
 3. The folly of yielding to these tendencies, " Whoso- 
 I'Ycr is deceived thereby is not wise." 
 
 I. We have two articles " Wine and strong drink : " 
 and, since the introduction of recent discussions on the ab- 
 stinence question, the English reader has got so familiar 
 with the original Hebrew terms, that it has ceased to be
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. 269 
 
 pedantry, and has become almost necessary, to iise them. 
 The word for wine is yayin : the word for strong 
 drink shekhar. In not a few of the publications on 
 the subject, we have page after page bedizzened with the 
 characters of Hebrew and Chaldee, and Arabic, and Syriac 
 and Greek and with the words of these various languages 
 in English letters. We have, at the same time, minute and 
 multiform descriptions of the various processes to which, in 
 ancient times and countries, the juice of the grape was sub- 
 jected, of the different articles produced by these processes, 
 and the several modes in which they were respectively used. 
 All this possesses a certain description of interest. It is 
 gratifying to the curiosity both of the critic and the etymolo- 
 gist; of the naturalist, the chemist, and the man of general 
 information. But considered as bearing on the answer to 
 the question What, in Scripture language, is meant by "wine" 
 and "strong drink" especially the former? it does appear to 
 me to be, to a great extent, a waste of learning. What is a 
 plain man to make of his Bible, if on so seemingly simple a 
 subject as the use and abuse of intoxicating drinks, he finds 
 himself wrapt in a cloud of learned dust about the very 
 meaning of the words in which his duty and lus danger are 
 pointed out to him 1 Further ; how useful and desirable 
 soever it may be to trace terms to their etymological origin, 
 it should not be forgotten, that even the clearest ascertain- 
 ment of this, is very far from being a sure and satisfactory 
 way of determining the meaning of a word : that depending 
 so much on particular associations at the time when the term 
 is specifically applied, and varying greatly in the progress of 
 every language. It is by usage alone, and usage undergoing 
 changes far from slight at times, in the history of the lan- 
 guage, that the true sense of any term can be ascertained. 
 
 There are different words employed, in the Old Testament, 
 to express, under various modifications, beverages or prepara- 
 tions from the vine. By some, seven are enumerated; by 
 others, even nine or ten. One of them is the second of those 
 in our text the shekliar. This word, however, is more 
 general, meaning "strong drink" of any description, whether
 
 270 LECTUKE LVII. 
 
 the material from which, it is made be the fruit of the vine 
 or any other substance : and respecting the import of it, as 
 always used for what is intoxicating, there is no dispute. 
 Setting it, therefore, in the meanwhile, aside, there are of 
 all the rest two only which, on the present question, call 
 for any remark. They are the former of the two words in 
 my text yayin, and the word tirosh. 
 
 Yayin is supposed to be derived from the verb which sig- 
 nifies to squeeze or press; an etymology natural and simple, 
 this being the process by which the juice, which is the 
 material of the wine, is obtained from the fruit. Of tirosh 
 different etymologies are given; the one, from the verb sig- 
 nifying to possess or take full possession; by which its influ- 
 ence on the man who freely uses it is conceived to be strongly 
 conveyed : it takes possession of him, so that he is no longer 
 himself or under his own control. It has been thought, 
 indeed, that, from this etymology, tirosh may simply mean 
 vineyards, considered as the symbol, by a part for the whole, 
 of a man's possessions, property, or inheritance. But this 
 wont do. Tirosh, beyond all question, means a particular 
 drink. This is its ordinary import. And men do not drink 
 their vineyards any more than they eat their lands. Ano- 
 ther derivation of the word is from the term signifying head. 
 And if this were the true etymology, it would seem to me 
 much more likely that the association by which it was sug- 
 gested was still the influence of the liquor, its headiness, 
 iis effect in unsettling the understanding, than any resem- 
 blance between the head and the berry or cluster. But, 
 as I have said, it is not etymology, but usage that must 
 settle the question. Etymology seems to favour the intoxi- 
 cating properties of the tirosh- as well as of the yayin. In 
 considering the question of -usage, I begin with the latter. 
 
 Yayin is the word in our text, and there can be no doubt 
 of its intoxicating character in this occurrence of it. It is, I 
 may say, the word for wine in the Old Testament Scriptures. 
 The word for the same thing, in the Greek, the Latin, the 
 German, the Dutch, the English, and other European lan- 
 guages, is a derivative from it, or rather is the very same
 
 PEG VERBS XX. 1. 271 
 
 term appropriately varie I It occurs about one hundred and 
 forty times in, the Hebrew Bible : and it denotes, almost in- 
 ,>///,//,///, the. fermented juice of the grape; and of course an 
 intoxicating beverage when taken in excess. I have said 
 " almost invariably." I might suppress the qualifying almost ; 
 for the alleged exceptions are on no legitimate principle of 
 criticism to be regarded as such. They are Isa. xvi. 10; 
 Jer. xlviii. 33: "Gladness is taken, away, and joy out of 
 the plentiful field; and in the vineyards there shall be no 
 singing, neither shall there be shouting : the treaders shall 
 tread out no wine in their presses; I have made their vin- 
 tage-shouting to cease." " Joy and gladness is taken from 
 the plentiful field, and from the land of Moab; and 1 
 have caused wine to fail from the wine -presses : none 
 shall tread with shouting ; their shouting shall be no 
 shouting." To say that in such passages the yayin sig- 
 nifies the grape-juice while in the process of expression, is 
 incorrect, proceeding on a principle of strict literality which 
 cannot be admitted. It clearly means the wine anticipated 
 as the result of the process; on a principle universal in 
 language. The gardeners and vinedressers of Germany are 
 said to call their grapes in the duster, at this day, their wine. 
 A principle of interpretation so literal would yield curious 
 results ; such as, that the Israelites fed on corn without its 
 being baked into bread, because Jehovah says " I should 
 have fed them with the finest of the icheat;" and that the 
 manna was, in like manner, eaten as it fell, without any 
 culinary process, because it is called bread God promising 
 to "rain bread from, heaven" upon them. 
 
 Yayin, then, (the proper word for ti-ine,) signified ferm<-id- 
 vd or intoxicating wine. Yet observe 
 
 This is the wine that was used in the ordinances of an- 
 cient ceremonial u-orsliip.. It was the drink-offering which 
 was enjoined to be presented, in various quantities, with the 
 animal sacrifices. It is invariably and you are aware how 
 freqxient the ceremony was the yoyin. 
 
 Observe further: This yayin is, on various occasions, 
 promised as a divine bestowment and blessing and the de-
 
 272 LECTURE LVII. 
 
 privation of it, on the other hand, threatened as a judicial 
 calamity. It is true, that the word tirosh is also used, and 
 it may be even more frequently, in similar connexions. 
 What of that? It is enough that loth are used, without dis- 
 crimination, when the blessing is promised, and Avhen the 
 judgment is denounced.* 
 
 Again : In various instances, when God is giving pro- 
 mises of blessing, both, words are used in association with 
 corn and oil, and other articles of sustenance, whether of 
 necessity or of comfort. It is not the tirosh only that is 
 thus associated, and thus promised. The yayin is in the 
 same predicament. It is, therefore, a point of fact, about 
 which there can be no reasonable doubt, that God promises 
 as a good, as a blessing, that which possessed intoxicating 
 qualities. The reason and principle are very plain. He 
 promises that of which the use (for which alone it was given) 
 was a benefit, but of which the abuse (which was the re- 
 sult not of God's goodness, but of man's perversion of it,) 
 was prejudicial. How few gifts of God are there, of which, 
 on one ground or another, the same thing might not be said ? 
 
 Again: The law of the Kazarite laid him under an in- 
 terdict during the period of his vow, as to the use of wine, 
 and of whatever came of the vine : but whenever his vow 
 ceased, the same authority gave him liberty to take wine. 
 The restriction neither existed before nor after the time of 
 his vow. Mark too the permission given, in certain speci- 
 fied circumstances, when any Jews resided at a distance 
 from Jerusalem (Deut. xiv. 24 26.) And mark also the 
 more than permission, (as indeed the language referred to 
 also was,) the encouraging direction given to the pious Is- 
 raelite, when he complied with divine counsels, under the 
 influence of principles and motives that were well-pleasing in 
 flod's sight : " Go thy way, eat thy bread with joy, and 
 drink thy wine with, a merry heart ; for God now accepteth 
 thy works," Eccles. ix. 7. 
 
 * I refer for the use of yayin, in such connexions, to Gen. xlix. 11, 
 12; 1 salin civ. 15; Hos. xiv. 7 ; Amos ix. 14; and Deut. xxviii. 39.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. 273 
 
 There is no proof whatever that the tirosh was not intoxi- 
 cating when used to excess, as well as the yayin. We have 
 seen-that the etymology rather favours its having been so. 
 And as to the effects actually ascribed to it, one passage 
 alone, were there no other, should be enough to satisfy every 
 unprejudiced mind: "Whoredom, and wine, and new wine, 
 take away the heart," Hos. iv. 11. The "new wine" here 
 is tirosh : and I can imagine nothing more unworthy of all 
 candour, more an outrage on all fair. and honourable criti- 
 cism, than the attempt to show that, in such a connexion, 
 tirosh may mean no more than the luxury of synip of grapes 
 and water, the harmless refreshment of a summer's day ! as 
 if we were to say, when denouncing the vicious causes of 
 alienation from God and moral destruction " Whoredom, and 
 strong drink, and lemonade!" The truth is, if any distinc- 
 tion is to be made between the yayin and the tirosh, the 
 "wine" and the " new wine" in such a passage, we nmst 
 proceed on the principle of climax, and consider the latter 
 as the stronger of the two ! 
 
 The yayin was also a common beverage in use by the 
 best of men. It was this that Melchisedec the king of Sa- 
 lem brought out to Abraham on his return from the slaughter 
 of the kings: and on various occasions, "bottles," or skin- 
 fuls, "of wine" of yayin, form a part of the supplies 
 provided for the sustenance and refreshment of those stand- . 
 ing in need of such supplies, when hungry, athirst, and weary. 
 
 The example of the RechaMtes is a favourite one with our 
 total abstinence brethren; and some of them have even 
 adopted the designation. With what propriety, a glance at 
 the case is enough to show.* It is not at all, you will observe, 
 their abstinence from wine that is the subject of the divine 
 commendation. We are not even certain whether Jonadab 
 their father was justifiable in laying them under this inter- 
 dict or not. The ground of commendation is simply their 
 obedience to their father; which Jehovah, justly and point- 
 edly sets in contrast with the ungrateful and unnatural 
 
 . 
 
 * Jcr. xxxv. 110. 
 II. S
 
 274 LECTURE LVII. 
 
 rebellion of Hia people. And further, Why do not the 
 admirers and professed imitators of the Eechabites died I <n 
 tents, as well as abstain from wine? Tliere is the very same 
 ground for the one as there is for the other. 
 
 It geeois to me, then, an utterly vain attempt to make it 
 out that the icine of the Old Testament, under whichsoever 
 designation mentioned, was without intoxicating properties. 
 The question is not at all whether other articles were pre- 
 pared from grapes, and were in common use. This is grant- 
 oil That the Hebrews, like certain other peoples, were in 
 the practice of boiling down the juice of grapes to one-third 
 or one-half its quantity, and bringing it to the consistence of 
 a syrup, who cares to question? Be it so. Two things re- 
 quire to be noticed : first, that in no passage of the Old 
 Testament scriptures do we ever find any allusion whatever 
 to any such practice, or to the use of such, syrup as a bever- 
 age; and secondly, that this syrup and water, supposing it 
 in use, was no more the liquor called in the Old Testament 
 wine, than molasse$ ami water would, in the West Indies, be 
 the liquor calledjr*fift JA 
 
 It is at once and freely admitted, that the ordinary wines 
 of Palestine were not so intoxicating as the brandied 
 wines of Europe. What is contended for is, simply the 
 point of fact that they were intoxicating ; : and no reader of 
 the scriptures of the Old Testament, who observes with what 
 frequency wine and drunkenness are there associated, and 
 how often the -wine stands in union, and, as it were, identifi- 
 cation, with strong drink-, in the production, by its abuse, of 
 tliis monstrous evil of inebriation, can be at any loss as to 
 the conclusion to which he should come. It will not do, 
 first to fill ourselves with a horror of the thiny itself, on ac- 
 count of the abuse of it ; and thence to conclude that such a 
 thing crudd not possibly be promised and bestowed as a bless- 
 ing; and then to set to work an ingenuity, of which the 
 principle and motive may be good, but of which the ultimate 
 tendency is most mischievous, to strain words and force dis- 
 tinctions, to bring the meaning into harmony with our 
 previous conceptions. Our proper business is, to take
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. fi73 
 
 as they stand plainly before us ; and, if these facts cannot 
 be made to harmonize with certain principles which we have 
 adopted "respecting good and evil, and the conduct becoming 
 the divine Being, to rest assured that in these principles 
 there is an error. The facts should correct the judgment. 
 
 I come now to the language of the New Testament. I 
 might almost say, there is there but one word for wine. It 
 is just the Hebrew word Grcecised. In one instance, that 
 word is accompanied with the epithet unmixed; where the 
 epithet evidently means undiluted in all its strength. It 
 is where the wine is the emblem of divine wrath : " The 
 same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is 
 poured out without mixture into the cup of his indignation," 
 Rev. xiv. 10. In only two instances does another designation 
 for wine if self occur. The first "Others mocking, said, These 
 men are full of new wine," Acts ii. 13. In this passage 
 new wine is not the literal nor proper rendering. It should 
 be "sweet wine;" there being then, as now, differences in 
 the mode of preparation, by which some of the wines were 
 rendered sweet and others not. At that time of the year 
 there could not be had what is properly termed "new wine." 
 It is thought to have been a strong sweet spiced wine Avith 
 honey and pepper. The only other .exception from the use 
 of the common Greek word for wine is in the institution of 
 the Lord's Supper; where Jesus calls it "the fruit" or prtj- 
 duce, " of the vine." I call it one instance of exception, be- 
 cause, although it occurs in three of the evangelists, it is 
 only the record by three historians of what Avas but once said. 
 
 The question, then, is "What is the meaning of this 
 word not etymologically, but according to its actual use in 
 the inspired narrative? There is a passage which brings 
 113 directly to this point : " ]S r o man putteth new wine into 
 old bottles ; else the new wine will burst the bottles, and be 
 spilled, and the bottles shall perish. But new wine must be 
 put into new bottles; and both are preserved. No man 
 also, having drunk old wine, straightway desireth new; for 
 he saith, The old is better," Luke v. 37 39. I need not 
 say, this is fennented wine. It will not do to say that the
 
 2? ii LECTURE LVII. 
 
 putting of it into new and strong skins was to prevent fer- 
 mentation. There is fermentation; and it is the strong 
 working of the fermentation that renders new bottles neces- 
 sary, to prevent the loss of both bottles and wine. If any 
 thing further were needed in proof of this, it is to be found 
 in the thirty-ninth verse: inasmuch as old Mwfermented 
 must, or wine, could never be better than new : it is only of 
 fei-mented wine that the saying could be true. The newer 
 and sweeter the must, the better, if it is unfermcnted. 
 
 To those who know their Xew Testament I need not say, 
 that its otvo? its wine is ever represented as possessing in- 
 ebriating properties.* In the character of bishops and dea- 
 cons, mark this particular feature: "Not given to wine, no 
 striker, not greedy of filthy lucre; but patient, not a braw- 
 ler, not covetous. Likewise must the deacons be grave, not 
 double tongued, not given to much wine, not greedy of filthy 
 lucre," 1 Tim. iii. 3, 8. And "For a bishop must be 
 blameless, as the steward of God; not self-willed, not soon 
 angry, not given to wine, no striker, not given to filthy lucre," 
 Tit. i. 7. Most assuredly, their not being given to wine-: not 
 ij'ir, ,/ to much wine, does not mean that they should not 
 use it at all. The expressions imply the use, while they 
 interdict the excess. Compare it with another feature of the 
 same character in the passages just quoted, that they should 
 not be "given to filthy lucre" "greedy of filthy lucre" (the 
 same word in the original). This does not mean that they 
 never should touch money. So is it with the wine. Mode- 
 ration in regard to both is the spirit of the injunctions ; in 
 opposition, in the one case, to covetousness, or that "love 
 of money which is the root of all evil ; " and, in the other, to 
 inebriety and the disturbance of reason, or unnecessary waste. 
 
 We are entitled to take what our Lord says of wine, in 
 the passage before quoted, as the key to all the occurrences 
 of wine in the New Testament. We have seen that the key 
 fits in regard to those already referred to. . Let us look to 
 another. It relates to the character of Je^us himself: 
 
 * Compare, for example, Epli. v. 18; 1 Pet. iv. 3.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. 277 
 
 " John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor drinking 
 wine; and ye say, He hath a devil The Son of man 
 is come eating and drinking; and ye say, Behold a glut- 
 tonous man, and a wine-bibber, a friend of publicans and 
 sinners ! But Wisdom is justified of all her children," Luke 
 vii. 33 35. Here observe first, There is a contrast between 
 the character of John and the character of Jesus. John 
 was a recluse. He retired from society, and frequented the 
 solitudes of the wilderness, living a life of abstinence from 
 the social gratifications of human intercourse : whereas Je- 
 sus went about among his countrymen, ate and drank with 
 them, and on such occasions as he knew would prove suit- 
 able for his own gracious purposes, accepted invitations to 
 be a guest at their tables. In the course pursued by John, 
 he acted in accordance with the charges which had, by the 
 angel of God, been given concerning him, before his birth 
 " He shall be great in the sight of the Lord, and shall drink 
 neither wine nor strong drink; and he shall be filled with 
 the Holy Ghost, even from his mother's womb," Luke i. 
 15. Secondly, no one will question the perfect rectitude of 
 the character of Jesus. He conformed to ordinary practice 
 in whatever could be done .without sin. It follows, there- 
 fore, that there was no sin in drinking wine; no more 
 than in eating bread; the two things being mentioned 
 together in the very same manner. The only question 
 must regard the nature of tlie wine of which he partook, 
 which leads me to notice, Thirdly, that while, even were 
 there no further proof, we are entitled to understand it 
 of the wine spoken of by the same name in other parts 
 of the Xew Testament, which, we have seen, was the ordi- 
 nary fermented wine, we have further evidence. It is* 
 in this very passage. It is in the fact of his having been 
 slandered as a " wine- bibber." That this was a vile slander 
 we of course assume. It was the misrepresentation of base 
 malignity the construction of what was perfectly innocent 
 into a charge of eviL But if the wine in ordinary use had 
 not been of an inebriating character, it would not have been 
 such a charge. Had it been true, that the wine was of such
 
 273 LECTURE LVII. 
 
 a quality, that a man might drink it as freely and copiously, 
 without harm, as he might of " the water of the Ganges," 
 then the designation of a wine-bibber would no more have 
 been a reproach than that of a water -bibber. The fact, how- 
 ever, of his having conformed to ordinary practice in the use, 
 not the abuse, of this divinely provided beverage, is to all 
 ''hristians sufficient proof that there is no sin in it; that 
 "// use is not abuse ; and that they who employ strong and 
 unqualified terms of reprobation of the use of wine, pro- 
 nouncing water "the best and only drink, without question, 
 which nature designed for man;" and exclaiming, in the 
 spirit of indignant renunciation of anything stronger, "give 
 me the pure water which the Saviour enjoyed at the well 
 of Jacob ! " would do well to take heed, that they be not 
 in effect bringing afresh against that Saviour the old slander. 
 They surely forget themselves. While they thus extol the 
 water, as the only beverage which nature has provided, and 
 which the God of nature, by so providing it, sanctions, they 
 may well blush at the recollection that the wine, as well as 
 the water, was the drink of Him who was ll holy, harmless, 
 undefilecl, and separate from sinners." Let them think on 
 whom their charges and their taunts alight ! 
 
 Let us now go to Cana of Galilee. You are all familiar 
 with the facts of the " marriage in Cana of Galilee ; " with the 
 innocent festivities of that occasion, and the manner in 
 which Jesus supplied the deficiency in the means of main- 
 taining them. These feasts, as we learn from Old Testament 
 history, were kept up for seven successive days. It is not 
 unlikely that a larger number of guests had, on this occasion, 
 come than had been expected. At what time of the feast 
 we cannot say but the company ran short of wine ; and, by 
 an act of miraculous power, Jesus furnished a supply which, 
 from its extent, even on the most moderate computation, is 
 conceived by many to have been intended to go beyond the 
 limits of the feast, and to form a temporary stock for the 
 newly-married pair. 
 
 Xow here, as in a former case, there is a common way of 
 the question. From the character of the Saviour, it
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. . 279 
 
 is at once inferred, with I do not call it an affected, but a 
 sincere and well-meant horror at the very supposition of the 
 contrary, that the wine thus produced could not possibly 
 be wine with inebriating qualities. But this is far from 
 being the fair way to take up such a case. It is assuming, 
 what can never be granted, that to make for legitimate use 
 an article that was liable to abuse, even although in the par- 
 ticular case^ there was no abuse of any kind, would have 
 been inconsistent with our Lord's character. The question 
 is still one of fact; and if we can ascertain the fact, we 
 should humbly conclude that it was in harmony with the 
 Saviour's character, and the imitation of it not to be hastily 
 and harshly condemned in the disciples of that Saviour. 
 Look, then, at the case. First, we are quite sure (thus much 
 may with confidence be certainly inferred from the character 
 of our Lord,) that there was not, on the occasion at which 
 he was present, I do not say intoxication, but any approach 
 to inebriety or indecorum. To nothing of the kind, we may 
 be assured, would He by his presence have given counte- 
 nance, or the remotest appearance of sanction. And observe, 
 the very language of "the ruler of the feast" respecting "the 
 water that was made wine," shows, that with regard to him 
 at least there was at the time the perfect retention of his 
 discriminating taste ; and we have no reason to imagine that 
 there was one in the company of whom the same thing was 
 not true : for, Secondly, this same language of "the ruler of 
 the feast" clearly refers, not to what had at the time taken 
 place, but only to what was customary, on similar occasions, 
 among the men of the world. And then, thirdly, mark what he 
 says "Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine ; 
 and when men have well drunk, then that which is worse : 
 'but thou hast kept the good wine until now," John ii 10. It 
 will not be disputed that the designation "good wine" means, 
 in both of its occurrences, wine possessing the same qualities 
 in a similar or superior degree. Now it is very evident, that 
 the setting forth of the inferior wine "after men have well 
 drunk" is to be explained from the inebriating quality of the 
 "good wine" having begun to be so far experienced as to im-
 
 280 . . LECTURE LVII. 
 
 pair that delicacy of taste, and that particular attention to 
 what they were drinking, and so to prevent the change from' 
 being observed. " The good wine" therefore, spoken of as 
 usually produced at the beginning of a feast, was fermented, 
 inebriating wine: and if so, "the good wine" now produced 
 by the Saviour must have been of the same description. If 
 any man shudders at this, he shudders at a shadow at a 
 phantom of his own imagination. He is weak, enough to 
 forget the distinction between use, and abuse; between wine 
 as given by God to "make glad the heart of man," and wine 
 as taken in the excesses of sensuality, and to the unsettling 
 of sober reason. The man who feels thus, should not be 
 able to bear the sight of money, seeing nothing can be worse 
 in its results than that which is "the root of all evil;" and 
 yet "money answereth all things" good ends as well as 
 bad : the evils arise from its abuse, whether in the excess 
 of the desire after it, or in the extravagance, the meanness, 
 or the turpitude of its application. All that can be con- 
 cluded from the incident, as recorded, is, that our divine 
 Lord graced and honoured and blessed with his personal 
 presence the innocent festivities of a connubial party, proba- 
 bly within the circle of his mother's kindred; and that He 
 supplied to the full, by miracle, the means of its enjoyment. 
 This is enough. Had such a thing been wrong in himself, Jesus 
 never would have done it. Had such a thing been wrong in 
 his followers, He never would have given them the counte- 
 nance of his example, or his countenance in any way, in the 
 doing of it. 
 
 There is no light in which the strong language that has 
 been used against the use of wine or of .anything that can 
 intoxicate, has shocked and grieved me more, than when I 
 regard it in its bearing upon the character and conduct of' 
 my Lord and Master. I take the most lenient and charitable 
 view in my power, when I impute to inconsideration and to 
 hasty zeal for a favourite cause, the terms of unmeasured and 
 undiscriminating censure with which some good men have 
 condemned the use, and especially the social use, of ,wine ; 
 their banishing it from their tables, and from their houses ;
 
 PHOVERBS XX. 1. 231 
 
 and their having brought themselves under a solemn pledge 
 not to take, nor give, nor offer, what was taken, and given, 
 and offered, and even miraculously created, for social use, by 
 Him whom they profess to regard as having, in all things, 
 "left them an example, that they should follow his steps!" 
 Surely, surely, fellow- Christians who have taken such a posi- 
 tion may well be startled at the presumption involved in it. 
 It is matter of no light concern, to occupy ground that, if 
 just, reflects upon the conduct of the Christian's Lord, and 
 sets the disciple "above his Master." This is a transcenden- 
 talism in morals, at wliich I should feel it impiety to aim ! 
 
 There is one other point to which, before closing, I 
 must advert. It was my wish and intention to have 
 finished the whole subject in one discourse: but the 
 second and third heads are of too great practical importance 
 to be thrust into so narrow a corner as must remain when 
 I have finished the first. The point to which I have al- 
 luded is the question as to the wine used in the institution 
 of the Lord's supper. Much has of late been made of this 
 question; a great deal more, in my apprehension, than its 
 importance warrants. Why should it be at all necessary to 
 ascertain the precise kind of wine, any more than the precise 
 kind of bread ? The wine used was that used in the paschal 
 solemnity; and doubtless this was the ordinary yayin, the 
 fermented wine of the country. Some indeed have fancied 
 that the exclusion of leaven during that solemnity extended 
 to fermented liquors as well as to the " leaven of bread." We 
 have, however, pretty clear proof to the contrary in the fact, 
 that on the morrow after the passover, the quarter-Am of 
 yayin, or fermented wine, was to be the libation, or drink- 
 offering with the enjoined sacrifice; and that the hin of the 
 same wine was to be offered day by day as usual, during the 
 days of unleavened bread, as at other times. And if it was 
 the ordinary wine of the country, should not that which ice 
 use be the same? We properly conform to the custom of 
 the country in other particulars. We sit, because it is our 
 ordinary posture at table, without ever deeming it necessary 
 to conform to theirs, which was reclining. We observe our
 
 2S2 LECTURE LVII. 
 
 Sabbath from morning to morning, instead of from evening 
 to evening, because the mode of reckoning the day differs 
 \rith us from what it was with them. Why, then, any 
 scruple about the use of whatever is the ordinary wine of the 
 country 1 
 
 But I shall be told, it is not called wine at all: it is 
 " the fruit of the vim." I feel it difficult to fancy those in 
 earnest, who gravely found anything on this. If " the fruit 
 of the vine" is to be taken literally, it must be the fruit 
 which the vine bears that is, grapes. We are very sure, 
 however, that it was not grapes that were the contents of the 
 paschal cup, and consequently of the cup used in the insti- 
 tution of the Lord's supper. What then considering the 
 fruit of the vine as signifying more generally the produce, of 
 the vine, what was it? One or other of three things 
 fresh must, tJte newly expressed juice of the grape; the 
 inspissated syrup of grape juice, diluted with water; or, fer- 
 mented wine. The first it could not be ; for this reason, that 
 the time of the year when the passover was celebrated, wa* 
 full five months after the last vintage of the preceding year ; 
 so that fresh must, or grape-juice, was out of the question. 
 There are some who, on this subject, seem to forget the sea- 
 sons altogether, and to have the notion that the fresh juice 
 of the grape might be had at any time. With regard to the 
 second, our friends seem to forget another .thing. They speak 
 of the juice or blood of the grape in its natural state : but 
 they should recollect that the inspissated syrup of grapes is 
 not the juice in its natural state; that it is obtained by an 
 artificial process, a process much more artificial than that 
 of fermentation ; namely, that of slow and repeated boilings ; 
 by which it becomes a syrup, but ceases to be the natural 
 unaltered juice of the grape. To the juice of the grape fer- 
 mentation is, strictly and properly, a natural process. So 
 soon, and so unavoidably, does this process begin, that 
 there appears to be hardly less evidence that grapes, the fruit 
 of the vine, as given by God to- man, were intended to fer- 
 ment for him, as that they were intended for him at all 
 They will ferment in spite of him. And, since it is repre-
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. 283 
 
 sented, when spoken of as God's gift in the same sense with 
 bread, as " making glad the heart of man," and since it is as 
 a fermented beverage that it especially possesses this cheer- 
 ing or exhilarating property, we seem warranted to regard its 
 fermentation as in the divine purpose in the bestowment of 
 the boon. From these considerations, as well as from the 
 whole tenor of the New Testament respecting wine, as in use 
 among the Jews, we feel ourselves justified in concluding 
 that the cup, in the hands of the Saviour when he instituted 
 the commemoration of his dying love, contained nothing else 
 than the ordinary fermented wines of Jii<l<'<t. 
 
 It arises from the cause before alluded to- a morbid hor- 
 ror (the result of undue attachment to a system) of all that 
 is capable of producing intoxication, how innocent soever in 
 itself, that any man should ask the question " How could 
 fermented wine, which so generally and so directly leads men 
 into sin, be an emblem of that blood which was shed for the 
 remission of sin?" with a variety of questions of a similar 
 description, still more strongly and antithetically put. " To 
 the pure, all things are pure." There is nothing in fer- 
 mented wine in itself evil, or in the use of it detrimental : 
 the very reverse. And why should not the two things in 
 nature, which are represented, the one as " making glad the 
 heart of man," and the .other as "strengthening man's heart," 
 be appropriate symbols in an ordinance, of which the design 
 is to commemorate the dying love of Him from whose aton- 
 ing death we derive both our joy and our strength] It is 
 by the remembrance of him, by .musing on his person and 
 lus-work, the i'reeness of his grace, the riches of his love, 
 that our hearts are gladdened, and we "go on our way re- 
 joicing;" that our spiritual strength is renewed, so that, 
 " going from strength to strength," we at length expect to 
 "appear before God in the heavenly Zion!" 
 
 It is distressing to think of the lengths to winch ultra 
 views on this point are carrying individuals and churches. 
 It is like a mania. I had a letter not long since from tho 
 pastor of a church in the South, in great perplexity, in con- 
 sequence of the scruples of some of his members about fer-
 
 284 LECTURE LVII. 
 
 mented wine in the supper, and consulting me whether- it 
 would be right to allow them, according to their desire, to 
 follow the practice of tire priest-ridden laity of the Romish 
 Church, and to take the sacrament in one kind, that is, 
 partaking of the bread only ! Members of churches, I be- 
 lieve, have handed the cup past them; some have with- 
 drawn from communion; and in some, it is said, of the 
 American churches, extraordinary substitutes have been re- 
 sorted to ! 
 
 And then, with regard to church-membership, the virtue 
 which, on this subject, the Bible requires of Christians, is 
 " sobriety " " moderation " " temperance." There is no com- 
 mand that goes further than this ; no injunction of abstinence. 
 And, all the commands being to temperance, and the very 
 idea of temperance involving that of use, all the commands 
 proceed upon the assumption of use being lawful. And this, 
 we have seen, accords with the example which we are taught 
 to look up to, as the pattern of sinless excellence. Who, 
 then, is entitled to demand more, as the condition, so far as 
 this one department of duty is concerned, of fellowship in 
 the church of Christ. Or how can the not requiring more 
 ever form a legitimate ground for the withdrawrnent of any 
 member from a church? Or how can any church be war- 
 rantably constituted on terms of communion that are not to 
 be found in the Bible? It is a very just sentiment of a very 
 sensible and judicious writer on the subject of this morning's 
 discourse : " To set up a standard of morality which God 
 has not set up, and to forbid that which God has not forbid- 
 den, is not the way to ensure the blessing of the Almighty, 
 or the co-operation of his servants ; and we shall best pro- 
 mote the interests of the temperance cause, by endeavouring 
 to understand the Scripture argument on the subject, and 
 by confining our' requisitions and prohibitions within the 
 limits of Bible morality."* 
 
 
 
 * Medhurst.
 
 I 
 
 . 
 ' 
 
 ' 
 
 LECTURE LVIII, 
 
 (SECOND DISCOURSE.) 
 
 PKOV. xx. 1. 
 
 " Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging; and whosoever is deceived thereby 
 is not wise." 
 
 LAST discourse was entirely occupied with the consideration 
 of the two articles here mentioned " ivine and strong 
 drink;" and every one who has paid attention to the ques- 
 tions on the subject which of late have been so largely 
 agitated, will be aware how indefinitely it might have been 
 extended. The main drift of that discourse was simply to 
 show, what it does not require a parade of learned criticism 
 to establish, that the attempts to make out anything like a 
 uniform and designed distinction between the words used, in 
 the Old Testament Scriptures, for wines that are approved, 
 and wines that are disapproved the latter as possessing 
 powers of inebriation, and .the former not, have entirely 
 failed : that the wines of the Old Testament employed in 
 sacrificial libation, promised as a boon, produced from the 
 earth by the power and goodness of God, and in fully war- 
 ranted use as a common beverage, were fermented intoxi- 
 cating wines : and that such too was the fact with the 
 wine of the New Testament as described by Jesus, used by 
 Jesus, miraculously made by Jesus, and employed by Jesus 
 in the institution of the ordinance of the supper. It was 
 further my object to show that the duty required in the
 
 286 LECTURE LVIII. 
 
 followers of Jesxis is temperance; that in His word, and by 
 His example, more is -not required ; and that they who do 
 require more, in evidence of Christian principle, or in order 
 to Christian communion, are chargeable with yoiny beyond 
 the record. 
 
 II. Our second head was the tendencies ascribed to the 
 articles mentioned: "Wine is a mocker, strong drink is 
 raging." 
 
 I do not intend to illustrate the two separately, as if one 
 description of tendency belonged to the "wine" and another 
 to' the " strong drink." On the principle of parallelism, and 
 from the frequency with which the two stand associated as 
 conducing to the same results, they may be taken together, 
 and considered as identified. The latter may be more vio- 
 lently exciting than the former, more fiery and more rapid 
 in its operation; but each of the tendencies specified be- 
 longs to both. " Wine" when taken in excess, "is yayl't/i/" 
 as well as "strong drink;" and "strong drink is, a mork>-,;" 
 as well as " wine." 
 
 Taking the two clauses, then, together, there are four 
 things which may be considered as included in them : 
 
 1. A beguiling tendency; the tendency, I mean, i 
 tice onward; one sip leading to another, and one cup or 
 glass to another; and this, especially in social drinking. 
 Whatever opinions I may hold as to the principles of the 
 total abstinence system, God forbid that I should ever be 
 so unfaithful as to conceal or extenuate the dangers Avhich 
 wait upon the use of whatever possesses inebriating qualities. 
 There is no question on the subject of their seductive ten- 
 dency, a tendency which varies in both kind and measure, 
 according to peculiarities of circumstances and of tempera- 
 ment. There is danger, danger of a man's being led on 
 step by step, especially when inexperienced, from little to 
 more, from one stage to another, till, without any previous 
 purpose, nay even in opposition to such purpose, he is brought 
 under the power of the intoxicating cup, drawn unawares 
 into the snare, deceived and cheated into insobriety. That 
 tii is is one description of the mockery .in our text, I have no
 
 PllOVERBS XX. 1. 287 
 
 doubt. It is mockery. One man would surely be said to 
 mock another, when by plausible and subtle arts he drew him 
 into a situation of which he is ashamed himself, and becomes 
 the jest and laughing-stock of others, or what to many a 
 man is worse their scorn and pity. 
 
 2. Along with a beguiling, there is a befooling tendency, 
 According to varieties in the constitutional or acquired temper- 
 ament of different individuals, it produces, in excess, one or 
 another of two effects. It renders the subject of its power either 
 a reckless madman, or a drivelling idiot. I might describe the 
 one, and describe the other; but it is unnecessary. Many 
 of you may have witnessed miserable specimens of both. 
 And in either case, surely the " wine," or the " strong drink, 
 is a mocker" The man under its power ceases to be him- 
 self: he says and does extravagant and mischievous things; 
 or gives utterance, with maudlin look and stuttering and 
 stammering tongue, to the incoherent babblings of folly; or 
 reveals what ought to be secret, and makes himself the 
 easy and unconscious prey of every one who chooses to take 
 advantage of him, giving away, or allowing. to be taken, 
 whatever others like, and coming under obligations of which, 
 in his subsequent sobriety, he may find it no easy matter to 
 shake himself loose. Or, worse still the understanding gets 
 beclouded and bewildered, and unfitted for the fulfilment of 
 important functions, on which the interests of others as 
 well as his own depend. Thus is often realized the de- 
 scription of the prophet " They have erred through wine, and 
 through strong drink are out of the way ; the priest and the 
 prophet have erred through strong drink, they are swallowed 
 up of Aviiie, they are out of the way through strong drink; 
 they err in vision, they stumble in judgment," Isa. xxviii. 7. 
 
 3. There is the tendency to excite the passions: -"strong 
 drink is raging" It is true, that in some cases the subject 
 of inebriation is rendered sillily and ridiculously good-na- 
 tured. It is the vacant good-nature of the gaping and laugh- 
 ing idiot, more pitiable, though more harmless, than when 
 the blood is fired and the passions roused! It is, in the lat- 
 ter case, like a temporary phrenzy. Excited himself, and
 
 288 LECTURE LVIII. 
 
 beyond all power of self-government, the madman says and 
 does things that excite others, especially when they are in 
 a state approaching to his own. Thus quarrels, all hot and 
 furious, are originated and fomented; and many a time 
 they terminate in fighting, and wounds, and blood, and even 
 death. What multitudes of the brawls that end thus miser- 
 ably and sometimes fatally, and by which culprits are 
 brought to prison, to the bar, to banishment, or to the scaf- 
 old, have this for their origin ! And this inflammatory ten- 
 dency is ascribed to wine as well as to strong drink: 
 " Woe - unto them that rise up early in the morning, that they 
 may follow strong drink; that continue until night, till 
 wine inflame them ! " Isa. v. 1 1. 
 
 4. While there is the excitement of the proud passions, 
 there is produced also the stimulated and heated action of 
 other vicious propensities those " fleshly lusts which war 
 against the soul" Intemperance and incontinence are kin- 
 dred vices ; as the words of the wise man teach us " Thine 
 eyes shall behold strange women." The one leads on to the 
 other. Fully persuaded as I am of the greatly more exten- 
 sive prevalence of lewdness than of drunkenness, and believ- 
 ing that for the thousands slain by the latter, the former 
 slays its ten thousands, yet still, this is quite consistent 
 with the tendency of the latter to excite to the former, and 
 to expose to its temptations. It is, in unnumbered cases, to 
 the influence of intoxicating liquor, that the infamous mon- 
 ster has recourse, to accomplish his purposes of foul seduction. 
 
 In these ways, and in others that might be mentioned, 
 " wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging." The tendencies 
 will come out still more fully, in considering 
 
 III. The folly of yielding to them. When is a man " de- 
 ceived thereby '1" When he takes of either at a II? Certainly 
 not. Solomon proceeds on the assumption of the use, and of 
 the use being lawful But a man is deceived, when he gives 
 way to the tendencies ; when he allows himself to be thrown 
 off his guard, to be seduced into excess, to get his foot en- 
 tangled in the snare, and to incur the risk of the conse- 
 quences. He "is not wise," when he does this even once, at any
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. 289 
 
 time, and in any circumstances : and far more unwise is he, 
 when, by repeated instances of such deception and mockery, 
 he allows a habit to be formed, from which recovery may 
 become difficult and hopeless. And what are the conse- 
 quences, on which the charge of folly rests ? They are vari- 
 ous, and they are serious. And, as the man is a fool who 
 allows himself to be imposed upon and duped in any way, 
 the. worse the consequences, the greater the folly. I might 
 show you how the acts and habits of intemperance aifect the 
 body, operating with deleterious and deadly influence on 
 every department of the animal system; how it works cor- 
 responding ravages on the mind, debilitating and debasing its 
 noble powers ; how it destroys character and reputation ; 
 how it thus deprives of confidence, and ruins interest aini 
 estate; what wretchedness, both in the form of poverty, 
 and of discord, and disease, and vice, it introduces into the 
 domestic circle, eating out the very vitals of all enjoyment, 
 and turning the sweetest of heaven's blessings to the " gall 
 of asps ; " and how, above all, as being a sin in itself, and 
 as producing other sins, it tends to the destruction of the 
 soul and the loss of eternity the forfeiture of its bliss, and 
 the endurance of its never-ending woe. Yes ; it is the ene 
 my of the soul ; and, if allowed to get the mastery, must be 
 its death. The indulgence of it is utterly incompatible with 
 spiritual life, destructive of its principles wherever it finds 
 entrance. The contrariety between the two (not between 
 wine and the influence of the Spirit, for wine is used as one 
 of the appropriate emblems of the spiritual blessings of 
 the gospel " Come, buy wine* and milk without money 
 and without price:" and the best and strongest of wine 
 that which is preserved most carefully in its strength, 
 purity, and flavour "The Lord God will make unto all 
 people a feast of fat things, of wines on the lees, of fat things 
 Ml of marrow, of wines on the lees well refined") not, 
 therefore, I repeat, betAveen wine and divine influence, but 
 between its excess and such influence " Be not drunk with 
 
 
 * Y ' 
 II. 1
 
 290 LECTURE LVIII. 
 
 wine, wherein is excess; but be filled with the Spirit."* 
 And there can be no doubt, in the mind of any one, 
 who believes the Bible to be God's word, that intemperance 
 excludes from heaven ; since no terms can be more explicit 
 and peremptory than those in which this sentence of exclu- 
 sion is affirmed. t Ah! then, "not wise" indeed is the man, 
 who is "deceived" by the ensnaring influence of the " wine" 
 and the "strong drink!" He is a fool, for body and soul, 
 for time and for eternity ! 
 
 The advocates of total abstinence may very naturally think 
 I have been making out a good case for them; and they 
 will marvel that I should not instantly and strongly draw 
 the inference, which to their minds seems so clear and imme- 
 diate that it cannot be resisted. There is one ground, how 
 ever, on which I can rest contented in being marvelled at 
 by them; namely, that in marvelling at me, they must 
 marvel at tlie Bible and its divine Author. While they say, 
 " If such be the tendencies, and such the consequences 
 of yielding to them, it is best to renounce entirely articles 
 of which the danger is thus great," it is nevertheless mat- 
 ter of fact, about which there can be no dispute, that such is 
 not the inference drawn in the "Word of God ; that there, no 
 such abstinence is, on any such grounds, enjoined. On the 
 contrary, as we have already seen, the " wine that gladdens 
 the heart of man" is as much the gift of God for his use, 
 and for the purpose which it is described as answering, as 
 the "bread which strengthened his heart;" it is numbered 
 amongst promised blessings, and the privation of it among 
 threatened judgments ; and our Saviour used it, and coun- 
 tenanced the use of it, and produced it by miracle for the 
 purposes of innocent conviviality. Surely from all this it 
 ought to be admitted, that abstinence is not incumbent. 
 The use, so far from being interdicted, has the clearest and 
 strongest of all possible sanctions ; the gift and promise of 
 God, and the example of Jesus Christ. On all it is incum- 
 
 * Epli. v. 18. 
 t See, among many passages, 1 Cuv. vi. 9 11 ; Gal. v. 21.
 
 PEOVEKBS XX. 1. 291 
 
 bent to beware of excess, of going beyond the bounds of 
 temperate enjoyment. "We shall have occasion hereafter to 
 speak more largely of the questions, "What is moderation? 
 and What is excess? Meantime I can only offer a single 
 remark on the logic which concludes against all use from the 
 danger of abuse, and which infers the propriety and obligation 
 of entire abstinence from the indefiniteness of the terms mo- 
 deration and excess, and the difficulty (if, indeed, in the pre- 
 sent instance, such difficulty there be) of drawing with accu- 
 rate precision bounding lines between the one and the other. 
 How many of the virtues are there which are, even to a 
 greater degree, in the same predicament with moderati"/* .' 
 Who will draw the exact line between covetousness and 
 generosity? "Who will define the precise limits of profusion 
 and penuriousness? Are we then to attempt no mean be- 
 tween the extremes'? Must we give all away, that we may 
 not be charged with penuriousness, or keep all to ourselves, 
 to avoid the charge of profusion'? Because there is great 
 difficulty in deterruinately fixing the limits of the precept 
 " Be not conformed to this world," are we to adopt the course 
 of doing nothing that the world docs at all? There is such 
 a thing as temperance, for the word of God commands it : 
 and there is a possibility of ascertaining, sufficiently for all 
 practical and salutary purposes, the legitimate Limits of the 
 virtue; for the word of God does not enjoin impossibilities. 
 We have admitted, however, the dangers ; and it is the duty 
 of every individual to be on his guard against them ; and 
 the duty of every public teacher and guardian of religion 
 and morals, to put others on their guard against them : and 
 to accommodate their warnings to the various peculiarities of 
 temptation. I would, first of all, warn of his danger the man 
 who sees none; for in this and some other things, the danger 
 is seldom greater than when there is no sense of it, but a 
 feeling of careless security. I would warn the man, and 
 especially the youth, who is fond of company, to beware of 
 the enticements which arise from that source to the free use 
 of the exhilarating glass, and to the habit of associating the 
 two together, and of the hazard of thus contracting the same
 
 292 LECTURE LVIII. 
 
 fondness for the one as for the other, for the glass as for 
 the company. I would warn those who, by any kind of re- 
 gular custom of taking a certain quantity, however small, (in 
 general a bad practice) feel themselves beginning to contract 
 a liking for it, and a craving sensation that they cannot do 
 without it, to break off the habit ere it obtains a single day's 
 further mastery. I would warn those who are tempted to 
 have recourse to the wine or the spirit cup, for the purpose 
 of banishing or suppressing the morbid horror of low spirits 
 and nervous and hysterical aifections, to beware of purchas- 
 ing a temporary relief at the fearful expense of the forma- 
 tion of a permanent habit, a thousand times Avorse than the 
 evil it is intended to abate; and which, while it may abate 
 for the time, it in the end most miserably augments. I 
 would warn the man who, by his very hatred and scorn of 
 tee-totalism, is in danger, for the very sake of showing how 
 heartily he does hate and scorn it, of taking what he should 
 not take, and flying to the contrary extreme. 
 
 But both the general and the special warnings may be 
 sounded, while the liberty of use is maintained, and the ob- 
 ligation to entire abstinence denied. There are certain points 
 respecting which we are all agreed, and our agreement about 
 Avhich ought never to be lost sight of. They are such as these. 
 We are all of one mind as to the sinfulness and guilt of in- 
 temperance in itself : we are all of one mind as to the vast- 
 ness of the variety and amount of crime and misery to 
 which this sin gives prolific and fatal birth; the many 
 streams of bitterness and pollution that flow from this 
 foul and noxious spring: we are all of one mind as to 
 the extreme desirableness of having this enormous aggre- 
 gate of crime and misery diminished, and, as far as within 
 the limits of possibility, removed. For an equally deep 
 conviction and heartfelt sense of these things, we are all 
 entitled to claim equal credit : and he who is disposed to 
 question it in his neighbour, only shows that there is one 
 virtue at least which his system has failed to teach him, 
 the precious virtue of charity. "We contend, that it is pos- 
 sible to hold all such convictions, and cherish all such feel-
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. 293 
 
 ings, in the most perfect sincerity, without coming to the 
 conclusion of its being a duty to have recourse to total absti- 
 nence. And the ground we take up in maintaining this, is, 
 that although, in the word of God, the moral turpitude of 
 the sin of intemperance is, in the very strongest terms, af- 
 firmed; although its sentence of condemnation is, in all its 
 fearfulness, pronounced, and the denouncing admonitions of 
 Heaven are everywhere pointed against it; although all the 
 varieties of trespass and of woe to which it leads in time, 
 and the "worm that dieth not, and the fire that never 
 shall be quenched" in which its course must close, are 
 fully known, and estimated, in all their extent, by the God 
 who has given us the Bible, there is not, from the begin- 
 ning to the end of that Bible, any interdiction of the things 
 themselves from the existence and abiise of which the evils 
 arise, any injunction whatever to abstain from them ; but 
 promises of them as benefits, and liberty to use them, pro- 
 vided the abuse of them were avoided. 
 
 For my own part, I recur to one of the points alluded to 
 in last discourse. I take my stand on the example of my 
 Master. That example every Christian admits to have been 
 without spot or blemish. " He did no sin." " He fulfilled all 
 righteousness." Every step of his life was on the very centre 
 line of virtue, in undeviating harmony with that law which 
 was "within his heart," and which was "holy, and just, and 
 good." Yet this pattern of sinless excellence used wine. The 
 condemnation of drunkenness, the description of its effects, 
 the denunciations of Jehovah against it, His warnings 
 to flee from it, and the judgments, in this world and the 
 world to come, thundered forth as its inevitable reward; 
 these were all in the Old Testament Scriptures : the very 
 words of our text were there, and the other words quoted 
 from a subsequent chapter. It was amongst the sins of 
 Judah, which were preparing for them those heavy woes 
 which drew from his eyes the tears of pity over their devoted 
 city. Yet He does not set the example of abstinence: 
 He does not feel it incumbent upon him to mark his abhor- 
 rence of the abuse, by the entire abandonment of the use;
 
 294 LECTURE LVI1I. 
 
 or to induce others to have recourse to such abandonment as 
 the only effectual means of putting an end to the sin of 
 drunkenness. His example was that, not of abstinence, but 
 of temperance. Now we are certain that the example He 
 set was both positively and negatively perfect, perfect in 
 what he did, and perfect in what he did not do ; that he 
 neither did what he ought not to have done, nor failed to 
 lo what he ought to have done. Are the disciples, then, 
 deserving of blame, for not doing what the Master did 
 not do 1 ? Here, I repeat, I take my stand; and I feel 
 my footing firm. I do not plead for exemption from an 
 act of self-denial. I should be ashamed to call it such, did 
 either the command or the example of my Master lay it upon 
 me ; and I feel that Ave are uncharitably maligned when 
 our principles and practice are imputed to an unwillingness 
 to relinquish a sensual indulgence. But I plead for the sin- 
 lessness of my Saviour's example ; for the sacredness from 
 all impeachment, direct or implied, of my Saviour's charac- 
 ter : for liberty to act, without subjecting myself to any 
 charge of failure in duty, as my Saviour acted. I trem- 
 ble, when I hear a charge heedlessly brought against 
 the disciple, that rests on a principle such as must neces- 
 sarily carry it back to the disciple's Lord. 
 
 To any man who would lay sin to my charge for drinking 
 I say at once, " I am not careful to answer thee in 
 this matter" He who "did no sin" drank wine; and, dif- 
 tident as I might be of rectitude in myself, in this or in any 
 tiling else, had I not his example before me, I feel contented 
 and at ease under an imputation in which I stand associated 
 with the "wine-bibber" of Nazareth! "When one hears the 
 charge, that the temperate they who use intoxicating liquors 
 in moderation are the causes of all the drunkenness in the 
 I'Mimtry, the feeling that takes possession of the mind is one 
 of mingled amazement and grief amazement at the absur- 
 dity, grief at the uncharitableness of such a charge. True 
 enough it is, that, were there no drinking ' at all, there 
 would be no intemperance, just as, were there no eatinfj at 
 all, there would be neither epicurism nor gluttony, -and
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. 295 
 
 were there nc credit at all, there would be no "accommoda- 
 tion bills," and none of the reckless and ruinous speculations 
 which are encouraged and maintained by means of them, 
 and, as in many other analogous cases, were the thing itself 
 not existing, the evils arising from its abuse would be at an 
 end : but that those who take the use of God's gifts which 
 He has himself permitted, that they should be loaded with 
 all the guilt and misery arising from the abuse of them by 
 others, that they who do what God allows should be 
 charged with causing, by their example, the crimes and guilt 
 and punishment of those who do what God forbids! has 
 something in it so utterly unreasonable, that the simple 
 statement of it should be its refutation in every soundly and 
 soberly thinking mind : but I am relieved at once from the 
 necessity of all such reasonings, by the same example. The 
 charge cannot be just; because, if it were, the example of 
 the " holy, harmless, and imdefiled" "the man Christ Jesus" 
 would come in for its share of the blame, as a part of the 
 cause of all the intemperance in the land of Judea ! If such 
 admonitions and commands are quoted to me as "Touch 
 not the unclean thing;" "Be not conformed to this world;" 
 " Be filled with the Spirit ; " " Be not partakers of other 
 men's sins;" "Do all to the glory of God;" "Let not your 
 good be evil spoken of ; " " Abstain from all appearance of 
 evil;" " Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God;" and others of 
 a similar character, (and there are those who do qiiote them, 
 as if they really thought they had application,) I meet them 
 all with the same answer Did Jesus " touch the unclean 
 thing]" Was Jesus "conformed to this world?" Did Je- 
 >u> " grieve that Holy Spirit which was not given by mea- 
 sure unto him ?" "Was Jesus, whom "the world hated because 
 he testified of it that its works were evil," "a partaker in 
 other men's sins?" Did Jesus do anything otherwise than 
 " to the glory of God 1 " Was it not His "good" that was " evil 
 spoken of," when He was called "a wine-bibber?" Was there 
 anything in Iftm that could justly be charged with even the 
 "appearance of evil?" If all these questions must be an- 
 swered in one way then what becomes of the application of
 
 296 LECTUKE LVIII. 
 
 the texts to those who only imitate His example? It pro- 
 ceeds altogether on a principle, which that example, as well 
 as the reason of the thing, has stamped with falsehood, that the 
 use by one is rendered sinful by the abuse on the part of 
 others. But assuredly, no fellow-Christian is entitled to re- 
 quire in another the relinquishment of what he has the 
 sanction of his Master's example for doing. "We are surely 
 safe when we are doing as Christ did. And with deliberate 
 seriousness I say it They who separate from their brethren 
 because they cannot feel it their duty to adopt abstinence 
 principles, and who, consequently, require such abstinence as 
 a term of communion, proceed upon a principle, which, if 
 consistently followed out, would lead them to pronounce a 
 sentence of excommunication, from His own church, of that 
 church's Saviour and Lord! And what else do they than 
 require abstinence as a term of fellowship, who placard 
 "the British churches" as "bulwarks of intemperance?"* 
 Did they mean by this, that in so far as such churches fail 
 in their discipline by retaining in their communion the 
 drunkard and the tippler, they were the "bulwarks of in- 
 temperance," it would be a truth. But this is not the 
 ground of their quarrel with the churches, nor of their sepa- 
 ration from them. And in so far as they mean that the 
 churches are "the bulwarks of intemperance," by retaining in 
 their fellowship those who use God's gifts in moderation, 
 and by not collectively adopting and acting upon the princi- 
 ples of total abstinence, I am borne out by the example 
 and by all the precepts of the Saviour in pronouncing the 
 imputation wholesale slander. 
 
 By this remark I am naturally led to another namely, 
 that the collective as well as individual example of God's 
 people ought to be one of the influential means of discounte- 
 nancing and putting down this and all other vices in the world. 
 " It is a lamentation, and shall be for a lamentation," that by 
 the amalgamation to such an extent of the church with the 
 
 * Tin's refers to a large placard put np at the time tlironp-Jiont ail 
 the streets of Glasgow, in which the language quoted was used.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. 297 
 
 world, and the admission and retention of so many, in the 
 former, of persons chargeable with the abuse of God's gifts 
 in intemperance and other sins, the power of this example 
 has been so sadly weakened, and even turned in the opposite 
 direction. Were the church purified of its corruption, 
 were "the wicked shaken out of it," were the line of demar- 
 cation more boldly defined, by the church's " coming out and 
 being separate," were the world thus deprived of every 
 ground for pointing with the finger of scorn at tippling 
 saints and godly drunkards, and saying " What do ye more 
 than others?" were there, in the personal and collective 
 character of the people of God, a constant, faithful, consis- 
 tent testimony, like that of their Lord, borne to the world 
 "that the deeds thereof are evil;" this would be, so far as 
 example goes, what the Lord requires of his people ; and it 
 would just be conformity to his own. And I am strongly 
 inclined to think and demand credit from my total absti- 
 nence brethren for my sincerity in saying so, how much soever 
 they may question the soundness of the sentiment, that 
 Christian example ought to be an example of the influence of 
 Christian principle. The apostle says " The grace of God 
 which bringeth salvation teacheth us, that, denying ungodli- 
 ness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, 
 and godly, in this present world," Tit. ii. 11, 12. I mean, 
 then, that the more distinctly manifest it is to the world 
 that the sobriety of Christians is the result of their having 
 received the grace of God, of their faith, of the doctrine of 
 "grace reigning through righteousness, unto eternal life, by 
 Jesus Christ our Lord," the result of pure principle, inde- 
 pendently of all superadded and extraneous considerations, 
 the greater is the glory to the truth and to its divine Au- 
 thor, the more distinct and vivid is the " holding forth of 
 the word of life" the more unequivocal the impression 
 made of " singleness of eye," or of the efficiency of the one 
 simple-hearted principle of regard to the Lord's will, under 
 the influence of the Lord's truth. Now, when Christians, 
 instead of, in thej.r distinct capacity, as individuals and as 
 churches, bearing to the world their practical testimony of
 
 208 LECTURE LVIII. 
 
 the power of the gospel of the gospel exclusively in re- 
 straining from evil and rendering them, as God's "peculiar 
 people," "zealous of good works," enter into combinations 
 with men of the world, and unite with them in distinct social 
 pledges of abstinence from particular evils, is not the influ- 
 ence of their own peculiar principles by this means obscured 1 
 is not its unequivocal character impaired 1 does not it 
 become to the world a matter of some uncertainty, what pro- 
 portion of the restraining influence belongs to the r/o-<j'/, 
 and what proportion to the pledge ? 
 
 Is this altogether desirable 1 ? Should not the great end of 
 Christian example be, to recommend, not merely the external 
 imitation, or the joint practice, of a particular virtue, or the 
 stipulated avoidance of a particular sin, but those divine 
 and saving truths from which the distinguishing character of 
 the true believer arises? And is there no sacrifice made, of 
 real benefit to men's souls, when this is in any measure com- 
 promised, and the truths that unite and purify the Church 
 kept out of distinct and prominent view by the principles 
 and engagements that are the bond of the abstinence associ- 
 ation 1 ? 
 
 In this same connexion, I am further led to ask, whether 
 to Christians it should not be an object of especially solici- 
 tous desire and endeavour, that the means used for the 
 reformation of the " world lying in the wicked one," should 
 be such as, at the same time, to effect their salvation ? that 
 the reformation attempted should, as far as possible, be based 
 on such principles? that the grand aim should be, to bring 
 the minds and hearts of men under the influence of these 
 principles, that so " out of the good treasure of the heart 
 they may bring forth that which is good 1 ?" Should not the 
 great power of reformation which Christians apply be the 
 power of divine truth? When this power is effectually ap- 
 plied, all ends are gained. By other means, the end of 
 external reformation may be gained. And is there not a 
 danger of this being counted enough? When the reforma- 
 tion is efiected by means of truth and principle I mean 
 Christian truth and Christian principle, two important
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. 299 
 
 results are attained. In the first place, self-deception is 
 prevented. Christians are well aware that sobriety is not 
 conversion. When we succeed in inducing a man to 
 relinquish the outward practice of intemperance, or of 
 any other evil, we have, without question, in one, or, it 
 may be, in more than one sense, done him good : but we 
 may have done him good in a way that leaves him still 
 "without God;" and if the man is tempted to trust in his 
 reformation, as all in all which we believe multitudes do, 
 while we save him from one delusion, we leave him in 
 another. We have saved him from being a jovial drunkard 
 or a despicable tippler, and have made him a sober, self- 
 satisfied, but unconverted sinner, still "far from God and far 
 from righteousness," and "before whom the publicans and the 
 harlots may enter into the kingdom of God." I grant, at 
 the same time, and delight in granting, that by the outward 
 reformation access may be more readily obtained to his mind, 
 for bringing before it the saving truths of the gospel. All 
 I would say is, that every Christian institution will keep 
 conversion and salvation in view, as well as reformation 
 of manners and habits of life, and will on no account 
 stop short of bringing sinners to God " saving souls from 
 death and hiding the multitude of sins" as its ultimate 
 aim; and, as far as possible, precluding and suppressing all 
 false and delusive confidences, lest outward reform prove 
 only " a lie in their right hand," with which they " go down 
 to the grave." 
 
 Secondly, permanence, is ensured. This too is a con- 
 sideration of much importance. When we succeed in 
 effecting a change of principle, we have a hold of a man, 
 such as nothing merely external or conventional can ever 
 give us. When there is nothing beyond a verbal pledge or 
 a paper bond between man and man, or even an engage- 
 ment in God's name, that is not associated with the believing 
 adoption of any enlightened principles, the security we have 
 for permanence is very precarious indeed. I speak of course 
 comparatively. There may be a kind of principle in the 
 conviction of the moral turpitude and injurious effects of
 
 300 LECTURE LVI1I. 
 
 drunkenness; but, in very many instances, these will prove 
 little more tenacious in holding the conscience and restrain- 
 ing the conduct, than did the ropes and the withs before the 
 strength of the unshorn Samson. Nothing short of a genu- 
 ine change of heart can give assurance of a steadfast and 
 permanent change of character. 
 
 We conceive that considerations such as these ought 
 to save us at least from the dogmatical and undiscrim- 
 inating censure and condemnation of our abstinence friends, 
 if we more than hesitate in associating with them in their 
 plans. There is but one rational ground of which I am 
 aware, on which Christians ought ever to think pf basing 
 any such plans. The principle to which I allude is that 
 laid down by the Apostle in Rom. xiv. 21, the principle of 
 
 SELF-DENIAL FOR THE GOOD OF OTHERS. I grant at once, 
 
 that while there is liberty given in the Bible to drink wine, 
 there is equal liberty to abstain from drinking it. There is 
 no obligation to use it; unless it be in cases where the 
 constitution may require it as part of the means of maintain- 
 ing the vigour and spirit necessary for the efficient dis- 
 charge of incumbent duties ; in which case the use itself 
 becomes an incumbent duty. Still, as a general truth, 
 there is no obligation to take, any more than to abstain ; 
 and there being no such obligation, Christians may, with- 
 out question, abstain, when they conceive such abstinence 
 likely to be the means of effecting any special good. If our 
 friends would keep to this ground, and follow their own 
 convictions in acting upon it; and have becoming charity 
 for those who have not the same convictions, and who, 
 for such reasons as have been assigned, do not feel them- 
 selves either bound, or even at liberty, to co-operate with 
 them. all would be well. "Who hinders them] who would 
 interfere with them? Let them only beware of either im- 
 puting bad motives, or at least the absence of good motives, 
 to those who differ from them. For my own part, with re- 
 gard to the principle laid down by the Apostle, I am not 
 at all satisfied that the case in which the statement of it 
 originated is, by any means, correctly parallel to the one to
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1. 301 
 
 which it is applied ; and I do not knoAv any one point of 
 greater delicacy and difficulty than to settle the extent to 
 which the application of it ought to be carried ; how far we 
 are called upon to relinquish what God has granted us, that 
 others may abstain from what He has interdicted; and to 
 do what God has not commanded, in order to induce others 
 to abstain from what He has forbidden. The one case 
 relates to the people of God; the other to the world: but 
 granting that the spirit of the principle might be ex- 
 tended alike to both, there is another difference. In the 
 one case, there are opposite convictions of conscience. It is 
 a case where the scruples of the weak rested on divine autho- 
 rity in their minds, although under a mistaken apprehension 
 of the divine mind in the matter to which it related : and 
 when I see the apostle dealing tenderly with this scruple, 
 fearing to " wound the weak conscience," I see in his beha- 
 viour and his counsels conformity to the example of Him who 
 " did not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking 
 flax : " who bore condescendingly and kindly Avith the igno- 
 rance and weakness of his followers, teaching them " as they 
 were able to bear," not '^putting the new wine into old bottles," 
 or making "the children of the bridechamber fast while the 
 bridegroom was with them." In the other case, there is 
 nothing of the kind ; there is no difficulty about the sin or 
 the duty, even to the weakest, nor any room for conscien- 
 tious scruple ; nothing being plainer in the Bible than that 
 all excess and intemperance are forbidden, while the mode- 
 rate use has the permission and sanction of divine authority. 
 In this case, therefore, opposite convictions of conscience 
 there can be none. And when I look at the same Master; 
 when, with the full assurance that the example He set was, 
 in every point, what it ought to have been, and in no 
 respect either defective or redundant, 1 find that example, 
 on the point in question, one, not of abstinence, but of tem- 
 perance am I not bound to regard His practical testimony 
 against the world's evil works to have been sufficient, and 
 to conclude that what was sufficient in Him must be sufficient 
 in his followers '? Notwithstanding all this, however, I would
 
 g02 LECTURE LVIII. 
 
 not be disposed to contend with the advocates of total absti- 
 nence against the use they make of the example on which 
 they rest so much the example of the Apostle ; and would 
 grant them, as far as they think it may legitimately be car- 
 ried, the fairness of their principle. But they must pardon 
 me for more than hesitating about their manner of applying 
 it. While, when I hear of good accruing from their exer- 
 tions; of drunkards reformed, and drunkenness prevented, 
 and habits of sobriety spreading, I hesitate to utter a word 
 that might sound bike indifference to the well-being of my 
 fellow-men, and still more to put forth a hand to arrest or 
 impede its progress ; yet I have many apprehensions, uncer- 
 tainties and misgivings about the ultimate results. I feel 
 myself on safe ground when I am imitating the exajnple of 
 my Lord; and I cannot even appear, in any way, to give 
 countenance to the extravagant and erroneous principles of 
 Bible interpretation by which the abstinence system seems 
 to me to be upheld, or the false principles of action and 
 character which are adopted in so many of its publications, 
 and the uncharitable principles on which it judges the con- 
 duct of others. 
 
 But time commands me to have done. I conclude by 
 simply reminding my hearers of two great Bible truths 
 both alike essential to be kept in mind that "by grace we 
 are saved" the sole ground of a sinner's acceptance before 
 God being the "blood and righteousness" of the Eedeemer, in 
 which the medium of interest is "the belief of the truth:" 
 and that "without holiness no man shall see the Lord;" 
 the faith of the truth, in every instance, " purifying the 
 heart and working by love;" the very "grace that bringeth 
 salvation teaching all its subjects, that, denying ungodliness 
 and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and 
 godly, in this present world."
 
 LECTUKE LIX 
 
 (THIRD DISCOURSE.) 
 
 "Wlio liath woe? who hath sorrow? who hath contentions? who hath bab- 
 bling? who hath wounds without cause? who hath redness of eyes? 'Ihey that 
 tarry long at the wine; they that go to seek mixed wine. Look not thou upon 
 the wine when it is red, when it giveth his colour in the cup, when it movcth 
 itself aright. At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder. 
 Thine eyes shall behold strange women, and thine heart shall utter perverse 
 things. Yea, thou shalt be as he that lieth down in the midst of the sea, or as 
 he that lieth upon the top of a mast. They have stricken me, shalt thou say, 
 and I was not sick; they have beaten me, and I felt it not: when shall I awake? 
 I will seek it yet again." 
 
 IT was my purpose to have reserved any enlarged illustra- 
 tion of the evils of intemperance, till I should arrive at this 
 passage in the ordinary course of exposition. I have thought 
 it preferable, however, to follow up my two former discourses 
 with an immediate exposition of its contents. A more gra- 
 phic and vivid description, a more powerful and awaken- 
 ing appeal, a more solemn, earnest, and alarming expostu- 
 lation and warning, it is hardly possible to conceive. 
 
 Before entering on the illustration of it, I cannot avoid 
 requesting attention to the clear and ample confirmation it 
 affords of all that was formerly said about the intoxicating 
 character of the wines of Palestine. I stated before, and re- 
 peat it, that no learning is necessary to make out the only 
 point which it is of any consequence to establish. It is easy 
 to speak of the weak and light wines of that country. But
 
 304 LECTURE LIX. 
 
 how can any one read such a passage as this and it is very 
 far from standing alone without being satisfied, that, what- 
 ever varieties there might be in the wines in ordinary use, 
 just as, with ourselves, there are weaker and stronger, lighter 
 and more heady wines, there were some of them, that were 
 not only intoxicating, but intoxicating to the utmost con- 
 ceivable degree. For assuredly, nothing can go beyond the 
 stae of drunkenness depicted in the verses which I have just 
 read. Why, then, all the learned discussion 1 ? Why the 
 raising of subscriptions for the purpose of sending commis- 
 sions to Palestine, " to examine into the history of ancient 
 wines, their manufacture and use?" Can this be necessary, 
 to ascertain, to any reader of the Bible, whether they were 
 intoxicating, when he reads of " the drunkards of Ephraim," 
 and finds so frequently meeting him, warnings against the 
 sin of intoxication, and against not " strong drink" alone, but 
 " wine" as its fatal cause. To any one, therefore, who says 
 he cannot believe that the wines of Judea were at all of the 
 same heady qualities with ours, I should think it enough 
 to say Read these verses. Xo matter whether they were the 
 same, in their manufacture, and in their qualities generally, 
 with ours or not, one quality they evidently possessed, 
 the quality which is the only ground of controversy : they 
 were intoxicating. 
 
 It will be impossible to avoid, in the illustration of this 
 passage, repeating sentiments of a similar description to some 
 of those advanced in last lecture. For this, so far a? it 
 may be the case, allowance will readily be made. 
 
 Our subject, then, is the SIN OF INTEMPERANCE. Here, 
 there is no great likelihood of difference of opinion. Should 
 there be difference, it will be on the part of such as are 
 themselves, in a greater or less degree, addicted to the vice, 
 and fond to discover grounds of palliation and self-defence, 
 or who are just in the perilous predicament of contracting 
 a fondness for it. 
 
 Intemperance is the use of any intoxicating liquor to ex- 
 cess. It matters not what the liquor be whether wine or 
 malt-liquor, or ardent spirits, or extract of opium, or anything
 
 PROVERBS XXIII. 2935. 305 
 
 else. Tlie evil lies, not in the article used, but in the exces- 
 sive use. of it. .Now I fancy I hear some one say and smile 
 with a kind of self-complacency in saying it, as if he had 
 found a puzzle for the speaker and a convenient refuge for 
 himself Ah ! but what is the excessive use of it 1 Allow 
 me to say to such persons, that I never hear this question 
 put, without trembling for him who puts it. I state it as 
 my pastoral experience, that among all the cases of discipline 
 for the sin of intemperance that have come under the cog- 
 nizance of the church, I have hardly known one in which 
 the party concerned, when evidence was clear against him, 
 has not been disposed to take refuge in such excuses as 
 " I grant that I have at times taken pretty freely perhaps 
 I may at a time have gone a little further than I should 
 have gone ; but / always knew what I was doing." 
 
 Kow, first of all, this is far from being always true. A 
 man frequently says and does things, when under the influ- 
 ence of liquor, of the strangeness of which he is not at the 
 time sensible; and does even right tilings in a manner that 
 plainly betrays his condition to others, when he is entirely, 
 or in a great measure, unconscious of it himself. But 
 this is not all Even supposing what these persons say of 
 themselves were tine, what a ground is this for a professing 
 Christian, nay, what a ground for any man holding even 
 the common principles of morality, to take ! "What ! is it 
 consistent with Christian principle with Christian prudence 
 with Christian self-knowledge with Christian vigilance 
 to venture thus to the very confines of evil, to sport 
 upon the borders of sin to tread, with heedless step, the 
 verge of hell? I can have no hesitation in saying, that the 
 man who goes thus far has exceeded. He may not have got 
 drunk; but he has tampered with temptation; he has vio- 
 lated all the admonitions to self-jealousy; he has shown a 
 conscience not impressed as it ought to be with " abhorrence 
 of that which is evil," by the very fact of his venturing so 
 near it; he has shown an inclination, that would go further, 
 if he dared, that has not boldness enough as yet to sin 
 freely ; if he is not a drunkard in fad, he is one in will, 
 
 n. u
 
 306 LECTURE LIX. 
 
 and he is iu most imminent danger of very soon being one 
 in fact too. 
 
 There are some to be found who, constitutionally or by 
 custom, can take more than their neighbours, without being, 
 as they say, the worse for it. And such persons have been 
 many a time known to boast of how much they can stand. 
 But not only is this grovelling and disgustful, it is deeply 
 criminal It is a waste of God's bounties, a perversion of 
 them to purposes they were never meant to serve; it is a 
 species of indulgence at once deleterious to the body, 
 and hardening and brutalizing to the mind; the boasting is 
 a lure to others to try their strength, a lure which, when 
 successful, brings to the account of him who presents it all 
 the sin and guilt produced by the imitation. There cannot 
 be greater curses to society than those who are thus " mighty 
 to mingle strong drink;" and whose boast is, how many 
 they can, as the phrase is, " lay under the table," while they 
 themselves keep sober ! The Bible says " "Woe unto 
 them!" and all who wish well to mankind will say Amen! 
 to the woe. 
 
 There are some, too, who, though they never perhaps get 
 themselves thoroughly drunk are for ever at it tasting 
 tasting tasting whenever they can find the opportunity. 
 One does not like to make comparisons; because such is the 
 deceitfulness of the heart, and such men's proneness to pal- 
 hate their own forms and modes of evil, that when you re- 
 present another form, as worse than theirs, they are tempted 
 to a latitude of inference, such as makes them feel at ease in 
 their own indulgence, as if it were hardly an evil at all, 
 as if the sin were extracted from it by comparison with the 
 greater sin of the other : yet, in some respects at least, the 
 incessant tippler is a worse and more hopeless character, than 
 the occasional drunkard. The habit gets stronger the crav- 
 ing more imperious and the danger greater of the charac- 
 ter of a confirmed sot being the result. Even although the 
 tippler should never fall into absolute intoxication, he is in- 
 temperate. He may not go to great excess in any one par- 
 ticular case ; but his incessant use is excess. He may be
 
 PROVERBS XXIII. 2935. 307 
 
 more intemperate in this respect, than the man whose fits of 
 intoxication or whose rambles (to use a cant word, which 
 will convey to many my meaning better than any other,) are 
 the exceptions, more or less frequent, to their ordinary sobri- 
 ety. But away with such comparisons. All the modes of 
 the evil are bad, all to be shunned, all to be abandoned. 
 Men addicted to the vice, in one or other of its modes, have 
 drawn variously the line of demarcation between tem- 
 perance and ^temperance, according to their different tastes 
 and propensities, have drawn it sometimes seriously, and 
 more frequently in jest "fools making a mock at sin." I 
 will not descend from the dignity of the place I occupy by 
 meddling with any of these. They are not the results of 
 sober-minded conviction ; and to refute the jokes, either of 
 the low tippler or of the jovial debauchee, would be as de- 
 grading as it is unnecessary. 
 
 In the passage before us Solomon speaks of those that 
 " tarry long at the wine, that go to seek mixed wine." They 
 " tarry at the wine" from fondness of it, and reluctance to quit 
 it yet another, and another, and another cup : and they "go 
 to seek mixed wine" that is, either they inquire with eager- 
 ness where the best, the most deliciously flavoured, the strong- 
 est, the most highly seasoned and thoroughly inspissated wines, 
 are to be found,-^-thafc there they may hold their carousals ; 
 or, they seek still a stronger and a stronger stimulant; 
 having recourse, when simple unmixed wines have failed OT 
 their effect, to those more heady and intoxicating combina- 
 tions of liquor, or those liquors that have been mingled with 
 drugs and spices of highly stimulating virtue, by which the 
 efficacy may be enhanced as well as the relish improved. 
 But the terms are evidently applicable to the indulgence, in 
 whatever way, and by whatever means, in the propensity to 
 excess. They describe drinking to intoxication, whatever 
 be the beverage, and whether in solitude or in company. 
 The terms too, it may be remarked, are expressive of tuihlt. 
 They suppose the habit formed. But everything that tends 
 to the formation of the habit, must of course be considered 
 a,s included. The habit is the height and consummation of
 
 308 LECTURE LIX. 
 
 the eyil ; but all the successive acts by which the habit has 
 been formed come in for their proportional shares of the 
 guilt. Habitual intoxication is the worst state of the vice ; 
 but occasional intoxication is still the vice. It is out of the 
 occasional that the habitual arises. Men may think lightly, 
 and talk lightly, of going beyond due bounds at a time, so 
 long as they keep from the habit. But they would do well 
 to remember, that every individual instance of excess is an act 
 of decided and flagrant sin ; and that, while it is vicious in it- 
 self, it is additionally vicious, as conducing to the formation of 
 the habit. The man who makes light of occasional intoxication, 
 is in the high way to the character of a habitual drunkard. 
 There is, on this subject (and the observation applies to 
 swearing and other sins, as well as to intemperance,) a strange 
 perversion of principle at times to be found, in the estimates 
 which men form of evil, or perhaps rather in the manner in 
 which they talk about it. I refer to the manner in which 
 we frequently hear men allege the strength of habit in pal- 
 liation of their misdeeds. The swearer has got so habituated 
 to the use of oaths, that he utters them, without being sen- 
 sible of doing it. The drunkard has become so addicted to 
 the use of stimulating and intoxicating liquors that he can- 
 not do without them; he absolutely requires them; the 
 craving has become such that it must be gratified. So they 
 speak; and in speaking so, they are guilty of the extraordi- 
 nary delusion of making the very worst form and most 
 flagrant degree of a sin the apology for the commission of it ; 
 the habit of profaneness the excuse for being profane ! 
 the habit of intemperance the apology for its individual acts ! 
 forgetting that the habit itself involves in it the accumulated 
 guilt of all the individual acts which have either contri- 
 buted to its formation, or have arisen from it when formed ! 
 The sin, then, of which I now speak is intemperance, as 
 including the immoderate use of intoxicating liquors, even 
 although absolute intoxication should rarely if ever be the 
 result ; and especially intoxication itself, in all its degrees, 
 and all its stages, from the first unsettlement of sober rea- 
 son, down to the lowest pitch of drunken insensibility.
 
 PROVERBS XXIII. 2935. 309 
 
 Our next inquiry must be what are the effects of this 
 sin? and our reply to this question Avill bring out more 
 clearly the nature and the amount of its criminality. We 
 shall take up the effects, as they are here, directly and indi- 
 rectly, enumerated; there being few of the evils resulting 
 from this prolific parent sin, which may not find a place, 
 naturally enough, within the limits of this most graphic 
 and vivid portraiture. 
 
 We begin with observing, that, on the very first and most 
 superficial view of the case, there is apparent in it a very 
 flagrant eviL God has given man rtason, for the superin- 
 tendence and direction of his conduct in all the situations 
 and connexions of life in wliich His providence may be 
 pleased to place him. How, then, is that man to answer to 
 his Maker and Judge, who wilfully deprives himself of the 
 presidency of reason over his mind, and heart, and conscience, 
 and behaviour? who, of his own accord, irrationalizes him- 
 self reduces himself to a brute? "When I use this compari- 
 son, I refer exclusively to the unseating of reason from the 
 throne of its legitimate and divinely appointed rule, or the 
 impairing, in whatever degree, of its capacity for duly main- 
 taining it. There is a sense in which the man who acts this 
 part sinks himself far lower than the brute. Yes : it is a 
 slander on the inferior tribes of the animal creation, to com- 
 pare a drunken man to a brute. The brute follows the 
 prevailing instincts of its constitution, and acts accord- 
 ing to the measure of understanding which the all-wise 
 Creator has conferred upon it. But the drunkard volun- 
 tarily bereaves himself of understanding ; voluntarily incapa- 
 citates himself for his required functions ; voluntarily be- 
 comes a half-witted fool, a violent maniac, or a drivelling 
 idiot. 
 
 The first question in the passage cited is " Who hath 
 woe? who hath sorrow?" Many, alas! are the sources of 
 "sorrow" and "woe" to the drunkard, especially so long as 
 his conscience, and his relative affections, and his regard to re- 
 putation and self-interest, retain any portion of sensibility, 
 and have not been reduced to absolute callousness by pro-
 
 310 LECTURE LIX. 
 
 tracted indulgence in sin. First of all, there is the woe of 
 amscious debasement and guilt. Impelled by the unnatural 
 cravings of a disordered appetite, or by the love of company 
 and of social mirth, all is, for the time, joviality and glee : 
 who on earth so happy as the drunkard, when under the 
 immediate impulse of his exhilarating stimulus] But, to 
 form a true judgment, you must look at him when the ex- 
 citement is past, and he is left to sober recollection to the 
 awful collapse of his over-stimulated spirits. Then come 
 (I am supposing the case of one not yet seared in conscience) 
 then come his fits of penitence. He is stung with re- 
 morse. He is ashamed, and dissatisfied with himself, pain- 
 fully, fretfully, indignantly dissatisfied. He thinks, it may 
 be, of the good principles of piety and virtue in which he 
 lucated; of the parental example by which these 
 wt& recommended and enforced; and of the anguish and 
 heart-break which his conduct must occasion to fond parents. 
 Or again, if he has a family, if he is himself a husband 
 or a father, his heart is wrung with the agony of self-re- 
 proach, in looking on his wife and children, whom he has 
 been depriving of his company, denying the endearments of 
 domestic life, dishonouring, distressing, abridging of their 
 comforts, impoverishing, famishing, and possibly, while in 
 his cups and rallied by his jovial associates, he has spoken of 
 with unkindness and contumely, and, when he has come home, 
 has treated with the words and the acts of abuse and vio- 
 lence ; or in gazing on the bitterly reproaching look of his 
 heart-broken partner, whom he has wantonly and cruelly 
 alienated by his unnatural neglect and profligacy, or on 
 what (if any spark of nature's sensibility still lingers in his 
 bosom) is still more full of anguish the affectionate smile, 
 through glistening tears, that would fain and fondly win 
 him back to the joys of home, and to the ways of sobriety 
 and virtue and happiness! Then, again, there is the "woe" 
 and "sorrow," when he thinks how he has forfeited his repu- 
 tation that " good name which is better than precious oint- 
 ment ;" how he has injured his credit, and shaken the con- 
 fidence that was reposed in him; how he has neglected and
 
 PROVERBS XXIII. 2935. 311 
 
 left undone something of essential moment, or has said, or 
 done, or consented to, something eminently detrimental to 
 himself, to his business, to his family : he is angry with 
 himself; he sees the damage, and he sees it to be irretriev- 
 able; he chafes and frets in vain; and by this very feeling 
 of restless irritation, he is perhaps driven to seek refuge from 
 his self-inflicted wretchedness in new and still greater ex- 
 cesses ! These are but specimens of the woes and sorrows, of 
 which the variety is without end, that spring from this 
 fountain of bitterness. 
 
 It follows "Who hath contentions?" I need not surely 
 say, how frequently these are the accompaniments and con- 
 sequences of intemperance : how teazingly and provokingly 
 troublesome on the one hand, and how senselessly quarrel- 
 some on the other, it often renders its poor unhappy vic- 
 tims. They become reckless of all reason and of all risks. 
 They will fight; they must fight. They contend for con- 
 tention's sake. To tell them there is no cause, is to speak 
 to madmen. Broils and angry debates are fomented, over 
 which reason has left passion to preside alone, whence 
 come blows and battles, such as not seldom terminate seri- 
 ously and even fatally. How many feuds and animosities, 
 that separate friends and families, and spread discord and 
 strife through neighbourhoods, and sometimes end in blood, 
 have had their rise over the bottle, when men continue at it 
 till wine or strong drink inflame them ! How many of the 
 murders that from time to time take place, and of which the 
 scaffold is the just requital, may be traced to intemperance! 
 how large a proportion of the " blood that crieth unto God 
 from the ground" may be justly laid to the charge of that 
 sin! 
 
 "Who hath babbling?" All who have marked the eifects 
 of intoxication must have observed how different they are 
 on different mental temperaments. Some who are naturally 
 quiet, good-humoured, and gentle, it renders loquacious, irri- 
 table, and headstrong; while others, naturally perhaps far 
 from being the most easily managed, are converted into per- 
 sonifications of good humour. Like a temporary insanity,
 
 312 LECTUKE LIX. 
 
 (which in truth it is) it works various and strange transfor- 
 mations of character. But, while the frantic fury of the 
 drunkard is frightful, the silly incoherent drivel, and the 
 broken, drawling, inarticulate, babbling speech^ of the drunk- 
 ard, is, to the last degree, pitiable and disgusting. Surely 
 could the poor man see and hear himself that would work 
 a reformation, if anything would! How often may the 
 drunkard, in his cups, be heard maintaining, with pertina- 
 cious and unmoved obstinacy, the most foolish and imperti- 
 nent absurdities; reiterating the affirmation of them with 
 a stoutness and a violence growing with contradiction; 
 giving utterance to the most wretched inanities, without 
 meaning and without coherence; stammering out vows 
 of eternal attachment to persons whom he has hardly seen 
 before, or for whom he cares not a rush when sober : and 
 all this too, with looks, and tones, and gestures, of the most 
 infantile imbecility! Drunkenness destroys all distinctions 
 and varieties of mental capacity and energy. When reason 
 is once dethroned, wisdom and folly are on a level; and 
 the wisest and most intelligent man in the company sinks 
 into the pre-eminence of the veriest fool, all froth, and 
 emptiness, and absurdity ! 
 
 "Who hath wounds without cause?" These may be the 
 result of various causes: sometimes of contentions, when 
 he picks quarrels and gets into brawls with all he meets, 
 interrupting them, laying hold of them, teazing and insult- 
 ing them, and receiving in return what from many might be 
 expected: sometimes of his stumbles and falls, by which 
 he is covered with cuts and bruises : sometimes even of 
 self-mutilation and violence, the temporary madness hav- 
 ing, in some instances, been known to produce the infliction 
 of severe contusions, and the cleaving off of fingers, by 
 which they have been confounded afterwards on being told 
 that it was their own doing ! These are " wounds without 
 cause" not merely wounds needlessly incurred, and which 
 by sobriety might have been shunned, but of which the 
 drunkard himself cannot tell the cause, but, when he gets 
 sober, marvels whence they have come !
 
 PROVERBS XXIII. 2935. 313 
 
 " Who hath redness of eyes ? " The habits of the man 
 come to be marked by their effects upon his looks. The in- 
 flamed and turgid eye, and the blotched, and fiery, and dis- 
 figured countenance, indicate, that the deleterious poison has 
 gone through his frame, and has incorporated with, and 
 tainted, and set on fire the entire mass of circulating blood. 
 His very looks become the index of his character, and give 
 warning to all Avho look at him to have nothing to do with 
 him. 
 
 To these melancholy evils, others still more melancholy 
 are added: "Thine eyes shall behold .strange women, and 
 thine heart shall utter perverse things." The two vices, of 
 drunkenness and le.wdness, are almost inseparable associates. 
 The one proverbially inflames the other. Intoxication is many 
 a time the first step in seduction to other evils. When un- 
 principled men are desirous of obtaining the instrumentality 
 of others for any wicked purpose, how often have they been 
 known first to disorder their understandings by tempting 
 them to free indulgence at the bottle ! Thousands of crimes 
 have their origin here. The fable is no doubt familiar to 
 many of you but though a fable it involves an important 
 truth, and an important warning, of the man to whom the 
 devil is said to have offered the alternative of a choice be- 
 tween three sins, one or other of which, as the means of 
 averting some evil or obtaining some good, he was bound to 
 commit. The three sins were, murder, incest, and drunken- 
 ness. The man made choice of the last, as, in his estima- 
 tion, incomparably the least. This was the devil's device ; 
 for, when he was under the influence of it, he was easily 
 beguiled into both the other two ! It is needless to say, how 
 insensible the drunkard becomes, when in his cups, to all the 
 feelings and laws of delicacy and decorum, committing un- 
 blushingly the most shameless indecencies, and glorying in 
 his shame ; and how readily in such a state, he becomes the 
 prey the wretched and dishonourable prey of every vile 
 seducer. 
 
 " And thy lipa shall utter perverse things." It was " bab- 
 blings' before. But mere drivelling and folly is not all ; it
 
 314 LECTURE LIX. 
 
 would be comparatively well if it were. But too often in- 
 toxication is the inlet to licentious and impure conversation ; 
 to profligate and obscene songs; to slander and abuse even 
 of the best and most venerated characters ; to the treacher- 
 ous and injurious betraying of secrets (which it is sometimes, 
 indeed, the means employed for detecting) ; to impious and 
 heaven daring profanities and blasphemies, oaths and curses, 
 and reckless jestings at sacred things. These form the frightful 
 compound, amidst growing confusion, and riot, and violence, 
 of the drunken revel When a man is in his cups, ''///- 
 verse things" may find utterance, such as will cost him many 
 an hour and many a day of bitter suffering; such as he 
 would cheerfully give all that he is worth to be able to re- 
 call ; but such as he regrets to no purpose, the utterance and 
 the consequences being alike irretrievable. 
 
 The 34th and 35th verses describe the lowest point in the 
 descending scale of the detestable and loathsome vice the 
 state of drunken stupor and insensibility. The man reduced 
 to this condition, when he begins to awake from it, wonders 
 where he has been, and wonders no less to find himself 
 where he is; and he shudders with horror to think of the 
 imminent perils by which, when he knew it not, he has been 
 surrounded. How strange must be the feelings of him who, 
 while sunk in a profound sleep, has been launched alone on 
 the deep, and on waking finds himself there, in .this danger- 
 ous solitude ; or who, while his senses have, in like man- 
 ner, been locked up, has been laid, insensible, on the mast- 
 head, and opens his eyes to his unwonted and unaccountable 
 position? Thus it is with the drunkard. When he is in- 
 formed, on his reason returning to him, after he has slept 
 away the fumes of his miserable debauch, where he has 
 been, and what he has said and done, he startles in aston- 
 ishment, incredulity, and self-reproach; but he recollects 
 nothing of it. What a graphic delineation we have, in the 
 last verse, of a drunkard beginning to recover ! When he 
 has passed through the different stages, of violent excitation, 
 and of subsequent unconscious impotence ; the vacant stare, 
 the stammering speech, the double vision, the falling
 
 PROVERBS XXIII. 29-35. 315 
 
 jaw, the reeling step ; when he has fallen, and, on attempt- 
 ing to rise, has fallen irrecoverably again ; has been carried 
 senseless to bed, and has fallen into a profound and beastly 
 sleep: here he is before you beginning to awake; feeling 
 his contusions and wounds, and wondering where and how he 
 can have got them ; stiff and sore ; trying to raise or to stretch 
 himself; scarcely believing that he is not still asleep ; yawn- 
 ing and listless, in that state of intolerable languor which is 
 said to succeed the fits of high and fevered excitement ! A 
 most wretched state of remorse, and regret, and bitter reflec- 
 tion, and anticipated and dreaded evils; and yet accom- 
 panied with the unendurable craving and longing for the 
 necessary stimulus, a craving, which is, alas! so seldom 
 effectually resisted and subdued "/ will seek it yet again." 
 The language of the thirty-second verse "At the last if 
 f/ifeth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder" may be 
 applied to all the subsequent effects together of this sin; all 
 the misery of an awakened conscience, of keen self-reproach, 
 of corporeal and mental suffering, of domestic discomfort, 
 of the loss of reputation, credit, health, life, soul, all 
 may be comprehended in this emphatic similitude. my 
 friends, let us not forget, especially, the last of this sad 
 series of particulars ! The drunkard destroys HIS SOUL. The 
 temporal evils that result from the course he pursues are 
 many and deeply deplorable. But ! what is any, what are 
 all of them, compared with this! compared with the spir- 
 itual desolation which this sin spreads around it, and the 
 irretrievable ruin of everlasting interests, in which it termi- 
 nates ! Think of the deathbed of the drunkard, a death- 
 bed to which, it may be, his criminal and infatuated indul- 
 gence has contributed prematurely to bring him ! He has 
 lived "without God," and he dies "without hope." He 
 quits the world in the horrors of despair, or in the hardly 
 less fearful insensibility of a seared conscience, an exhausted 
 mind, and a heart drugged into apathy by "strong delusion." 
 He leaves behind him a ruined character, a ruined fortune, 
 and, it may be, (no thanks to him if it is otherwise,) a ruined 
 family ; and his ruined self plunges into hell !
 
 316 LECTURE LIX. 
 
 I use this strong language freely and boldly, because I 
 have formerly shown you how decidedly I am borne out in 
 the use of it, by the positive assurances and awful denuncia- 
 tions of God's word. I have shown you, that by the express 
 and irrevocable sentence of the Judge of all, intemperance is 
 one of the sins which indicate a heart unrenewed by divine 
 grace, and which finally exclude from " the kingdom of heaven." 
 that I could impress the fearful truth, with practically dis- 
 suasive power, on the consciences and hearts of all ! The re- 
 nunciation of the vice, where it has been practised, is one of 
 the essential evidences of conversion to God : " Such were 
 some of you : but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye 
 are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit 
 of our God," 1 Cor. vi 1 1. It follows that no one belongs to 
 the number of the " washed and sanctified and justified," 
 who belongs to the class of ilruitkuril*. And from this it fur- 
 ther follows, that none such should ever be admitted to the 
 fellowship of the church below, seeing they stand excluded 
 from the church above; but must be kept out and cast out. 
 ! well might Solomon say, with all the emphasis of point- 
 ed and affectionate warning " Look not thou upon the Avim j 
 when it is red, when it giveth his colour in the cup, when it 
 moveth itself aright." The look forbidden is the look that 
 springs from and provokes desire. There is always danger 
 in looking at a tempting object It was when Eve looked 
 on the tempting fruit that she fell The man who looks on 
 the wine with special pleasure, when it sparkles and mantles 
 in the brimming cup, excites his longing after it, and is in 
 imminent danger of being overcome. If he would conquer, 
 and avoid being conquered, he would do Avell to turn his 
 eyes away; for it is, in this and in other cases, by the eye 
 that the temptation enters and prevails. 
 
 The people of God themselves are expressly warned against 
 the indulgence and the encroachments of this miserable vice : 
 " Be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess ; but be filled with 
 the Spirit," Eph. v. 18. On this remarkable passage I may 
 be allowed to observe that being " filled with the Spirit " is 
 the best preventive, the most effectual safeguard, against this
 
 PROVERBS XXIII. 2935. 317 
 
 and all other sins : for " the Spirit histeth against the flesh, 
 that we may not do the things which we would." And fur- 
 ther what a contrast is between the utterance of the man 
 who is thus " filled with the Spirit," and that of the man 
 who is " drunk with wine." We have seen what the latter 
 is : we have the former in the verse immediately following 
 the expression quoted " Be filled with the Spirit ; speaking 
 to yourselves : in psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs, 
 singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord." 
 Our Lord himself, in very solemn and awful terms, admon- 
 ishes his people on this subject;* and the Avarnings of 
 His apostles are no less impressive and powerful. + Yet 
 does it not strike you as remarkable, and is it not de- 
 serving of the notice of those of our brethren who are 
 accustomed to speak of abstinence as the only true temper- 
 ance, that when our Lord himself, " the great Teacher," 
 whose instructions, as well as whose example, were 
 perfect, admonished his followers, in terms so solemn and 
 alarming, against such excesses as were inconsistent with 
 due vigilance, and might expose them to be taken by sur- 
 prise at the coming of their Master, he never should have 
 thought of the " more excellent way" of preventing the evil 
 against which he warns by an injunction of abstinence? 
 Never, one should think, was there a more appropriate time 
 for it. The very admonition shows that the sin was not a 
 rare one, or their danger of falling into it a great xinlikeli- 
 hood. Yet we have nothing of the kind. The tise is not 
 interdicted, as the surest means of avoiding the abuse. The 
 warning is solely against excess. Was this an oversight 
 an omission and imperfection in the Saviour's teaching 1 ? It 
 must not be said, there was not the same danger : had there 
 not been danger, there would not have been warning. Ob- 
 serve me I find no fault with the man who, in attending 
 to the Saviour's admonition, acts upon the principle that the 
 best and surest means of avoiding excess is, abstaining from 
 
 * See Matt, xxiv. 48: Luke xxi. 34. 
 f See Rom. xiii. 1114: 1 Tliess. v 410.
 
 313 LECTURE LTX. 
 
 whatever might tempt to it. He may act upon this princi- 
 ple himself; he may advise others to act upon it. All that 
 is pleaded for is that he do not condemn those, as disobey- 
 ing the Saviour's admonition, who, whether in eating or 
 drinking, can partake of God's bounties without the excess, 
 and who, in so partaking, are imitating that Saviour's example. 
 I wished to have enlarged a little now on one or two 
 topics that were touched upon in last discourse. But your 
 time will by no means admit of my doing so. I then stated 
 what I conceive to be the only reasonable basis on which 
 the advocates of Abstinence Societies should ever attempt to 
 found them; namely, the principle contained in the Apos- 
 tle's words " It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink 
 wine, nor any thing whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is 
 offended, or is made weak : " that is, the principle of self- 
 denial for the good of others, or, in other words, the e:>-j_'U- 
 ency of having recourse to means, in some circumstances, which, 
 in different circumstances, might be unnecessary and unraf/7 
 f<>r. It would, in my apprehension, have been well for their 
 cause, had the friends of abstinence confined themselves to this 
 ground. Although by no means to all Christian minds sat- 
 isfactory to the extent to which they carry the application of 
 the principle, or unobjectionable on other accounts, yet to 
 a certain degree it was solid. But by attempting to extend 
 their foundation, they have weakened it. By seeking to 
 prove too much, they have lost, in many minds, the hold 
 they might have had. They have adopted principles which 
 trench upon Christian liberty, by imposing human authority 
 for divine, and condemning as sin what God has nowhere 
 forbidden; which thus lead to uncharitable and censorious 
 estimates of character; which require for their maintenance 
 the violation of the canons of sound criticism and legitimate 
 biblical interpretation; which, introduced into the church, 
 would exclude from its communion many whom. " Christ has 
 received;" and, above all, which throw an injurious and 
 most revolting reflection (how undesignedly and unconsciously 
 soever, and I need not say I regard it as altogether so,) on 
 the character of the all-perfect pattern of every excellence
 
 PROVERBS XXIII. 2935. 319 
 
 "the man Christ Jesus." All this is to myself matter of 
 sincere regret. The object they prosecute is one of unques- 
 tioned and primary excellence the diminution and eradica- 
 tion of an evil of enormous magnitude, and the inlet to a 
 deplorable variety and amount of other evils, both moral and 
 physical, personal, domestic, and public. In so far as this 
 object is prosecuted by scripturally legitimate means, we can- 
 not but wish the prosecution of it God-speed. I avow my 
 preference of means, as far as they can possibly be brought 
 into operation, of a different description; means that go 
 more directly to the root of other evils as well as this, that 
 go immediately, that is, to the rectification of the principles 
 of human conduct ; means, that leave less likelihood of the 
 minds of those on whom they are brought to bear being ab- 
 sorbed in this one concern, deluded into the notion that the 
 temperance reformation is all in all, to make this reforma- 
 tion their righteousness, to put their sobriety in the place of 
 godliness, their reformation for conversion; and, though 
 cured of one great evil, and freed from the miserable effects 
 arising from it, to live as really without God as before; 
 means, which, while they saved their objects from intemper- 
 ance, would, at the same time, bring them to more than 
 what the world call sobriety, which would bring them to 
 faith, to holiness, to God; Ayhich would thus combine ends 
 of which the combination is so desirable, providing for 
 "things that accompany salvation" as well as things that 
 accompany outward virtue and this world's well-being. Mis- 
 take me not. I do not mean that it is at all wrong to avail 
 ourselves of motives and considerations of an inferior kind 
 to those which relate to the high interests of the soul and 
 eternity, in order to induce men to abandon an evil which 
 so injuriously affects themselves, their families, and the com- 
 munity. I am far from saying or thinking so. The Holy 
 Scriptures make frequent use of such motives: but the 
 Bible, at the same time, should be our pattern in combining 
 both, and in placing the highest first. I have also, as I 
 formerly said, more confidence in the permanence of the re- 
 sults, when the means by which they are produced involve
 
 320 LECTURE LIX. 
 
 the infusion of principle. Is it so, as has been reported, 
 that many of the Irish papists, who took the pledge from 
 Father Matthew, are now, at the hands of other priests, get- 
 ting absolution from their pledge for a shilling? So it is 
 said. For my own part, I should rejoice to hear that it is 
 not true: but still, I should not be at all surprised if it is. 
 It would only be an exemplification of what I stated last 
 Lord's day the slender hold we have on a man when such 
 a pledge is unaccompanied with knowledge, and unfounded 
 in just principle. In the case alluded to, the bond and the 
 release are alike the fruit of ignorance. Ignorance takes it; 
 ignorance is absolved from it ; the ignorance of a soul-deceiv- 
 ing superstition, a superstition which would lead its victims 
 to make a merit of the keeping of their pledge, and yet to 
 feel themselves not the less safe for giving it up when their 
 release was obtained from priestly authority. 
 
 I do, not vindicate either myself or others from culpability 
 in not bringing more into active operation such means as 
 those of which I have intimated my approbation. Be it so, 
 that in this we have erred, and do err. That affects not the 
 present question. I have formerly said, and say it again, 
 that I have been reluctant to utter a word that could by any 
 be construe'd as if it were pointed against, and designed to 
 hinder, the advance of a good cause, of a great reformation. 
 And yet, conscious as I am that my sole object is truth 
 the basing of Christian plans and Christian doings upon right 
 principles; why should I fear the result? Essential intHi, 
 in the principles on which we proceed, will be sure of pro- 
 ducing ultimate good, even should it, for a time, appear to 
 interfere with it. 
 
 And now, having laid before you what I believe to be the 
 mind of God on the subject that has occupied the last three 
 morning lectures I trust I may say without the charge of 
 presumption, what my conscience tells me I say, though with 
 confidence, without elation, " I take you to record this day," 
 whether, either by what I have said or by what I have not 
 said, I have justly incurred the heavy imputation of " casting 
 the weight of my influence into the scale of intemperance;"
 
 PROVERBS XXIII. 2935. 321 
 
 whether, for the last three Sabbath mornings, I have been 
 "employing myself in promoting the dreadful evil of intem- 
 perance!" I have been describing its nature; exposing its 
 sinfulness; shutting out those who are guilty of it from the 
 kingdom of God both on earth and in heaven ; showing its 
 dreadful consequences, in tiin^and eternity, and denouncing 
 it in the name of the Lord. And I have been pleading for 
 temperance as a Bible virtue, commanded by God, and ex- 
 emplified by Christ, and a fruit of his Spirit in all who be- 
 lieve his truth. But, because I cannot see temperance and 
 abstinence to be the same thing, or, in the face of my Bible 
 and of experience, assent to the position, that abstinence is 
 the only and the incumbent means of promoting temperance, 
 I must bear the weight of imputations, which, if true, would 
 render the man who is justly chargeable with them unworthy 
 ever to open a lip again as a minister of God's truth. My 
 conscience acquits me of having ever, within my recollection, 
 used a single passage of the word of God, during the whole 
 course of my ministry, in a sense inconsistent with what I 
 believed to be its meaning, or for a purpose aside from its 
 design. On the present subject, my sole desire has been to 
 ascertain the mind and will of the Lord ; and whatever the 
 Lord sayeth, that to speak : and I trust that, " through your 
 prayer, and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ," I shall 
 ever be enabled, faithfully and unflinchingly, mildly but 
 firmly, without the "fear of man, which bringeth a snare," 
 " fearing God, and knowing no other fear," to " declare 
 unto you" " shunning" no one part of it "the whole coun- 
 sel of God;" "not walking in craftiness, not handling tho 
 Word of God deceitfully, but by manifestation of the truth, 
 commending myself to every man's conscience in His sight ! "
 
 -2 .xx 
 
 ?.m acf HBO i&di rtoioTaoo bos rria6d9irf i avidinirq 1< 
 bus plaited arid jdoum oa ,afm T {,uaij;Ifi3 1o eba'.i -n ol 
 
 ': ifohivv \($ elqbrrhq oift I>. 
 
 i.iinmmiroo H.S xii !&cln JutT 
 -flhqni; $nt&n<hn* ,I)8iohw "<rioxu ; 
 ^d u;.o Mod on siicod osoaV' lo 
 
 L E C T uK E L X . 
 
 iiu/q 1o lonei ailT .wrJ "io IHTB gu 
 
 - * - 
 
 m tudi babaifarsq me 1 .p-soigsl) f)xw OT0icn - 
 n/d joJ Jjg^ToaoT ad A? ROV - xx - 2 9 - 
 
 ' The fear of a king is as the roaring of a lion ; whoso provoketh him to anger 
 sinneth against his own soul. It is an honour for a man to cease from strife : 
 but every fool will be meddling. The sluggard will not plow by reason of the 
 cold; therefore shall he beg in harvest, and have nothing. Counsel in the heart 
 of man is like deep water: but a man of understanding will draw it out. Most 
 men will proclaim every one his own goodness: but a faithful man who can find? 
 The just man walketh in his integrity; his children are blessed after him. A 
 king that sitteth in the throne of judgment scattereth away all evil with his 
 eyes. Who can say, I have made my heart clean, I am pure from my sin?" 
 
 8di 'to 
 
 ON the first of these verses it is unnecessary to dwell* 
 " The fear of a king," is evidently here put for that in a 
 king, or in sovereign authority, which causes fear. Jacob 
 is said to have sworn "by the fear of his father Isaac" 
 that is, by the object of his fear, and those attributes, con- 
 sidered as belonging to that object, from which reverence 
 and dread arose. That in a king which subjects have rea- 
 son to fear, is his power, and consequently his displeasure, 
 when his laws are broken, or his will is thwarted, when 
 that power is clothed with judicial vengeance. Then, as 
 " the roaring of a lion" his roaring after his prey when 
 famished with hunger, agitates the bosom of the traveller 
 with terror, so may the offender quake before the authority, 
 the power, and the anger of royalty. In this our sinful 
 world there is a necessity for government. It is the " ordi- 
 nance of God;" and, like all His ordinances, for good. The 
 
 * See chap. xvi. 14; xix. 12.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 29. 323 
 
 less of punitive threatening and coercion that can be made 
 to answer the ends of salutary rule, so much the better ; and 
 the sounder the wisdom and the principle by which the 
 system is constructed. But alas! in all communities there 
 are ever to be found, "evil men," wicked, turbulent, unprin- 
 cipled, rapacious characters, of whose hearts no hold can be 
 got by measures of gentleness, who can bo held in check only 
 by fear, and by the strong arm of law. The terror of punish- 
 ment requires to be held over them. I enter not into ques- 
 tions about its nature and degrees. I am persuaded that in 
 no case but that of murder should death be resorted to ; but 
 we have at present nothing to do with such inquiries. All 
 we have now to say is, that laws without punitive sandi<m* 
 deserve not the name. A law that may be violated with 
 impiinity is no law. By the "king" in such passages is 
 to be understood the government, or supreme judicial and 
 executive authority, whether vested in one or in more ; whe- 
 ther it be a monarchy, an aristocracy, a democracy, or, as in 
 our own favoured and happy country, (for favoured and 
 happy it is, in comparison with most other nations of the 
 earth, notwithstanding all its occasional and even heavy suf- 
 ferings,) a mixture of the three. Under every government 
 there must be fear. Love is Jehovah's universal law ; but 
 when men have thrown off the bonds of love, and refused 
 the subjection of their hearts and lives to it, they must be 
 assailed by fear. And under the government of God him- 
 self, "his wrath is revealed from heaven against all ungodli- 
 ness and unrighteousness of men;" and " Who knoweth the 
 power of his anger?" Under every human administration, 
 the seditious and treasonable, the enemies of subordination, 
 the selfish violators of the rights and privileges, the liberty 
 and property of others, require to be stonily coerced. The 
 public weal demands it. The man, therefore, who, by his 
 conduct, brings upon himself the legal and judicial "wrath of 
 the king" that is, of the Government, "sinneth against 
 his soul;" or, rather, against his life. He may endanger and 
 forfeit life itself forfeit it to law, and to the general good. 
 There is a sense, indeed, in which the word soul may be
 
 324 LECTURE L^ 
 
 retained. The man who rebels against the government and 
 salutary laws of his country, sins against God, and in so 
 doing he "sins against his soul," all sin, of every kind, 
 bringing upon it gnilt, and exposing it to the threatened 
 consequences.* If "the fear" of an earthly king is " like the 
 n Hi ring of a lion," how fearful must the fear be of the " King 
 of kings, and Lord of lords!" One glance of the lightning 
 of those "eyes which are as a flame of fire," will shake the 
 
 i#qul of the conscious sinner with the very terrors of deatli. 
 
 Verse 3. " It is an honour for a man to cease from strife : 
 but every fool will be meddling." There may be some con- 
 nexion between this verse and the preceding. If " the 
 wrath of the king is like the roaring of a lion," then if a 
 man's strife is with the king, it is at least safety to ccasi- 
 from it ; and it is also " an honour.'" But the words must 
 be taken more generally. Strife is best let alone altogether 
 
 jiW' left off before it be meddled with." But suppose, in any 
 CMSC, strife begun: is it an honour still to ffas_e from it? 
 Solomon says it is. This is not the world's view of the mat- 
 ter ; not the view which human nature, that nature, as it 
 exists and operates, whether fully or in conflict with a better, 
 in every one of us, is disposed to like or to dictate. Quite 
 the contrary. When we have started a controversy, how 
 trivial soever the matter in debate may be, how fond 
 we naturally are to have the last word! To let our adver- 
 sary have it is the keenest mortification. When it is affir- 
 mation against affirmation, if he persists in repeating his, 
 we persist in repeating ours. We feel as if the victory de- 
 pended on who should say it last! We get impatient: our 
 voice rises ; our face flushes ; our eyes kindle ; and our ut- 
 terance is choked with passion : or, on the contrary, knowing 
 the temper of our opponent, we keep ourselves provokingly 
 calm; and by our very calmness, cool and scornful, stir up, 
 with secret delight, all his hasty passions, all the fuel of 
 his fiery spirit. If a man of the Avorld's honour has sent a 
 challenge, he is bound to stand to the very last upon every 
 
 \ ,ao *j * So,e Rom. xiii. l-o.
 
 PHbVERBS XX. 29. 32;> 
 
 punctilio which the law of that honour has fixed, and to 
 fight it out, till the honour of the last shot is determined by 
 the fall of his adversary or himself. The man of a litigious 
 .spirit, having once instituted his process, and begun his suit, 
 feels himself bound in honour (not tin- honour of high prin- 
 ciple towards another, but a jealous and proud determina- 
 tion to maintain hJfe'O'w'ffJ to prosecute to the utmost; to g<> 
 from the lowest court up to the highest, never resting short 
 of the last appeal. No matter what the value of the litigated 
 object may be though a mere trifle he must risk all that 
 lie is worth, rather than give in, be ruined, rather than yield ; 
 because to yield, is dishonour : so his pride and folly .think. 
 How different how opposite, the principles and maxims 
 of the Dible ! " It is an honour to a man to cevxf //"//< 
 xf/'ife." This is just saying, what, after all, must find the 
 absent of every sound and calmly-thinking judgment, that 
 it is "an honour" to a man to have the command of his own 
 passions ; that it is "an honour" to a man not to temper self- 
 ishly and recklessly with the passions of others; that it is 
 "an honour" to a man to keep his ear candidly open to re,- 
 and, when convinced, to yield to truth ; that it is "an honour" 
 to a man, not only to shun quarrels, but when, in spite of 
 the apostle's warning, " if it be possible, as much as lieth in 
 you, live peaceably with all men," he has unhappily 1 
 unable to avoid falling into one, to look at the cause of it 
 with fairness, to admit the equity of every equitable claim, 
 and the reasonableness of every reasonable explanation, 
 and, when an opponent discovers an indomitable spirit of 
 stubbornness, pu^ion, and pride with which there is ob- 
 viously no dealing, and which there is no hope of bringing 
 to anything like calm and fair settlement, instead of 
 .sisting, quietly to leave him to Imnself, rather than, by imi- 
 tating his spirit, to make matters worse ; that it is ";m honour" 
 1o a man never to go unjustly or even needlessly to law wfth 
 others; and, when obliged to have iv.-^ir,-,- I- it, never (.. 
 - persist further in a process than is necessary to ascertain 
 with clearness what the law of the case is ; never either to 
 institute a plea, or to maintain and urge it on, for pleading's
 
 320 LECTURE LX. 
 
 sake, and in the spirit of reckless and resentful pride, but to 
 be rather the last to begin, and the first to give up. In a 
 word, the spirit of peace and love and concord is the Bible 
 spirit of lionour. And it is the spirit of wisdom too ; for in 
 the second clause of the verse it is added "But every fool will 
 be meddling." These are pithy words. They afford another 
 exemplification of the identity of human nature in Solomon's 
 days and in our own. How many such fools there are still ! 
 
 " Meddling" means meddling with other people and other 
 people's concerns so as to provoke quo.rrels with himself, 
 and still further to excite "//'/ foment them between others. In 
 the former case, they often "meddle" to their own hurt ; pick- 
 ing quarrels, and suffering by them. Amaziah, the king of 
 Judah, was one of these meddling fools ; and he "meddled to 
 his hurt"* Abraham presents a fine example of the oppo- 
 site spirit the spirit of "meekness of wisdom." t How 
 many prying and officious fools are there ! who are ever 
 peering into matters with which they have nothing to do, 
 and obtruding their sage advice where it is not wanted, and 
 provoking people to say What business is it of yours? 
 And then these same fools will put in their word or their 
 linger in other people's quarrels. Even when the adversaries 
 might, if left to themselves, "cease from strife," the "meddling" 
 of these fools will keep it up and foment it to greater vio- 
 lence. They say this to one, and that to the other, by 
 which they stimulate the passions of both, inflame their 
 pride and resentment, and confirm their alienation. The 
 whole matter might have been settled but for them. how 
 much have such intermeddling fools to answer for ! They 
 may call themselves friend-s; but they are the enemies of 
 the parties, and the enemies of mankind, and their own ene- 
 mies to boot 
 
 Verse 4. " The sluggard will not plow by reason of the 
 cold; therefore shall he beg in harvest, and have nothing." 
 How very frequently has the character of the sluggard come 
 before us! In the present occurrence of it, there are two 
 particulars which may be noticed : 
 
 * See 2 Chron. xxv. 8 11. f Gen. xiii. 79.
 
 PROVEUBS XX. 29. 3*7 
 
 1. Row fertile sloth ever is in excuses! On all occasions 
 it is so- proverbially so. It finds its excuses for inactivity 
 in the very considerations that are fitted to produce exertion. 
 Thus it is here. Cold, sharp, bracing weather is the very 
 weather which, in seed-time, the husbandman looks for ; and 
 the very weather which renders labour the least exhausting. 
 And yet this is the sluggard's plea for inexertion : " the 
 -sluggard will not plow by reason of the cold." The same 
 indolence, which finds an apology in the cold of seed-time, 
 will readily find an apology for doing nothing, equally good, 
 in the heat of summer. It is never, indeed, at a loss. Si- 
 lence one plea, another is ready ; and with each one of 
 them, " the sluggard is wiser in his own conceit than seven 
 men that can render a reason." 
 
 2. The consequence of indolence thus indulged : " There- 
 fore shall he beg in harvest, and have nothing." This is the 
 consequence that mif ht be anticipated from the nature of 
 tilings. The man who, from indolence, will not plow, and 
 will not, therefore, sow, cannot expect to reap. And it is, 
 moreover, the just consequence. " He receives," I was going 
 to say, " the due reward of his deeds." I should rather say 
 
 U ' 
 
 of his no-deeds. 
 
 I am disposed to think that the two expressions " he shall 
 beg in harvest, and have nothing" do not mean the same 
 thing, namely, that, as the result of his indolence, he shall 
 then be in a state of destitution, he shall "have nothing" 
 signifying the same as he shall "beg" be reduced to beg- 
 gary. " Observe, it is not said, He shall have nothing, and 
 shall leg; but he shall beg, and have nothing. He shall 
 beg of others, from his fields yielding him no subsistence ; 
 and, 'his claim to sympathy not being admitted, there 
 being no justice in it, and his own egregious folly shutting 
 up the bowels of compassion towards him, he shall " have 
 nothing" even by his beggary. He shall be in the condition 
 of the prodigal son, when "no man gave unto him." Har- 
 vest is the time of reaping and ingathering. It is a joyous 
 time. They who have held the plough, and scattered the 
 seed, and covered it with the harrow, and cleaned their
 
 328 LECTURE LX., H 1 
 
 fields, and looked for " the early and the latter rain," then 
 cut down the waving crops, and gather them into the barn : 
 they have a gladsome harvest-home. And while all this 
 busy toil and festive mirth is going on around him, the- 
 wretched .sluggard has nought whereon to look but his bare 
 fields from which " the mower filleth not his hand, nor he 
 that bindeth sheaves his bosom." He may sigh at length 
 over the sad result, and wish the seed-time back again ; but 
 the fault is his own, and wishes and regrets are alike vain. 
 And no one pities him; or, if any do, it is a pity at once 
 condemnatory and scornful Again, then and again, I say 
 unto you " XOTIIIXG WITHOUT LABOUR." 
 
 Verse 5. " Counsel in the heart of man is like deep 
 water : but a man of understanding will draw it out." We 
 have the power of communication; but not the power of 
 intuitive acquaintance with each other's thoughts and pur- 
 poses, or the views which our minds respectively take of 
 particular subjects. But there are ways of getting at the 
 minds of others : just as there are ways of getting at wa: 
 though the well is deep. In the latter case, we apply the 
 windlass and the bucket; and from many a fathom doAvn, 
 where the spring bubbles in silence and darkness, we bring 
 the water to the surface for our use. The verse may be 
 taken as referring to the man of deep, designing policy ; who 
 exercises a firm control over his lips; cherishes his plans 
 and purposes in the inaccessible secret places of his own 
 mind; keeps his counsel; never blabs; all depth and mys- 
 tery : or to the reserved man the man of deep and shrewd 
 sagacity, but of modest diffidence and of few words, think- 
 ing much and well, but saying little. 
 
 Taken in reference to the former of these two characters, 
 the meaning wall be, that the " man of understanding " 
 will " draw it out," in order that he may be upon his guard, 
 and put others upon theirs. His object is, the detection of 
 hidden counsels, of deeply concealed designs, that he may 
 take precautions against them, so as to shun and evade the 
 threatened evil. The sagacity, which marks symptoms and 
 circumstances, and by the study of human nature and of
 
 PROVERBS XX. 29. 329 
 
 peculiarities of character, forms its shrewd guesses, and then, 
 by direct or indirect inquiries, put with a penetrating < 
 upon the countenance, converts these guesses into certainty, 
 worming out from the mind of the man of policy, ere he 
 himself aware, his most secret intentions, may, in many 
 cases, be eminently advantageous. Exercised in prude i. 
 and in benevolence, not in mere curiosity, and far le,ss in 
 malice, it is a very valuable power. The skilful general, who 
 has studied the tactics of his opponent, is often able more. 
 than to guess what his movements, in any given circumstan- 
 ces, will be, how solicitous soever he may be to keep them 
 secret, and will make his own precautionary arrangements, 
 or plan his mode of attack accordingly; keeping quiet, ad- 
 vancing, retreating, changing position, or at once giving bat- 
 tle, as the case may be. And so may a sagacious statesman 
 dive into the secret counsels of a political adversary ; shrewdly 
 surmising the course which, in certain circumstances, hi.s 
 principles or his views of political expediency will suggest. . r 
 Thus, in ordinary life, in daily intercourse, may the man of 
 sagacity, in many instances, more than guess the thoughts 
 and purposes of others, in a way that may be of essential 
 sendee to him, for the guidance of his own movement.-;. 
 
 w c? 
 
 There is, at the same time, it should be observed, a per contra 
 side of this view of the case. There may be times and cir- 
 cumstances, when it is particularly necessary for us that we 
 keep our oim counsel ; that we reserve what is in our own 
 minds; that we do not allow our secret purposes prematurely 
 to discover themselves; when such discovery would bring 
 the risk of frustration to plans on which much depends; 
 and when, therefore, we behove to be on our guard against 
 "the man of understanding" who would "draw out our 
 counsels." There are the curious and the prying, as well as 
 the self-interested, who, by side insinuations, and seemingly 
 far off and incidental questionings, put with an assumed 
 simplicity, are trying to worm out our secrets, letting down 
 buckets in the dark. It may be our duty to see to it, that 
 their buckets come up empty. 
 
 A* to the other case, that of the reserved man, there ia
 
 330 LECTURE LX. 
 
 great and valuable art in "drawing out" his mind. The 
 counsel which it contains may be sound and precious ; but, 
 unless skilfully elicited, it will remain where it is, and be 
 lost. The discovery of it is worth the pains. But all have 
 not the art. It requires peculiar tact. Even of the reserved 
 the characters vary; and there is need for accommodation 
 to the particular turn of each, in order to success. What 
 would a thirsty man do, who had nothing to draw with, and 
 the well was deep? Necessity, if he was a man of under- 
 standing, would be the mother of invention. He would set 
 his wits to work, to construct some mechanical means of 
 reaching the water. And thus will the intelligent and dis- 
 criminative man find his way into the mind of the backward 
 and reserved, and draw out for use its secret counsels. But 
 for such a power and skill, a great deal of valuable wisdom 
 might be lost for any practical purpose in society: and to 
 the man who draws it out, and puts it upon record, or brings 
 it into use, society is not a little indebted. 
 
 And ere I pass to another verse, does not the observation 
 force itself upon your notice, if any such A r alue attaches to 
 "counsel in the heart of man," as to render it worth pains. to 
 " draw it out," at what pains should we be to understand 
 the counsel of God, the counsel of the infinite Mind ! That 
 is counsel, which we cannot " draw out." It must come spon- 
 taneously; it must be graciously revealed; for who hath 
 known the mind of the Lord? And it has been. It is in 
 his word made known to his "holy apostles and prophets, 
 by his Spirit." * And by them it has been communicated to 
 us. What is necessary to salvation is to all simple and 
 easily accessible. " The Spirit and the Bride say, Come. 
 And let him that hearcth say, Come. And let him that is 
 athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water 
 of life freely." This is not deep water, which it is diffi- 
 cult to reach. All may reach it; and all freely partake of 
 it. But there is much in the Bible which does require in- 
 vestigation and pains ; water, and living water too, which 
 
 * 1 Cor. ii. 912, 16.
 
 PROVERBS XX 29. 331 
 
 must be brought from the deep well. We should earnestly 
 seek spiritual understanding, that we may be able, by dili- 
 gent pains of study, to " draw it out." 
 
 Verse 6. " Most men will proclaim every one his own 
 goodness: but a faithful man who can find?" The Apostle 
 Paul, with much emphasis, delivers the following admoni- 
 tion : " For I say, through the grace given unto me, to 
 every man that is among you, not to think of himself more 
 highly than he ought to think ; but to think soberly, accord- 
 ing as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith." 
 Human nature has been ever characterised by a tendency to 
 over-estimate its own worth and a propensity to let that 
 worth be known. There are men, indeed, who " glory in their 
 shame;" who proclaim their vices; their intemperance, their 
 lewdness, their quarrels, their revenge ; who, instead of making 
 a secret of these, make them their open boast, and laugh to 
 scorn the tameness of virtue. But, as Solomon here expresses 
 it "Most men will proclaim every one his own goodness." 
 By some the word is taken here in its more restricted sense 
 a sense in which, without doubt, it is often used, as meaning 
 kindness, benevolence, generosity. But there is nothing in 
 the spirit or principle of the statement, that at all requires 
 its restriction. What is true respecting goodness in the re- 
 stricted, is time respecting goodness in the general sense. 
 But the manner in which men make known what they ac- 
 count their goodness, is very various. Some are open with 
 it. They almost literally "proclaim" it, upon the house- 
 tops. To every individual, and in every company, they 
 speak of it, of what they are, of what they have said, of 
 what they have done, of what they think, and of what they 
 wish and intend to do. And ! if they had but the means ! 
 what would they not accomplish ! 
 
 Some there are who are quite as vain, and as ambitious of 
 commendation and praise, who, knowing that everything of 
 the nature of ostentation is exceedingly unpopular, and lets 
 a man down, and tempts others to pluck his feathers from 
 him, set about their object with greater art. They devise 
 ways of getting their merits made known so as to avoid
 
 332 LECTURE LX. 
 
 the flaw of ostentatious self-display. In company, they com- 
 mend others for the qualities which they conceive themselves 
 specially to possess, or for the doing of deeds which tl ey 
 themselves are sufficiently well known to have done ; and 
 they turn the conversation dexterously that Avay ; or they iind 
 fault with others for the want of the good they are desirous 
 to get praise for; or they lament over their own deficiencies 
 and failures in the very points in which they conceive theii 
 excellence to lie to give others the opportunity of contra- 
 dicting them ; or, if they have done anything they deem 
 particularly generous and praise-Avorthy, they introduce some 
 similar case, and bring in, as apparently accidental and un- 
 intentional a way as possible, the situation of the persi.y; 
 or the family that has been the object of their bounty. In 
 a thousand ways, as it may happen, they contrive to get in 
 themsdves and their r/oodn ,. 
 
 As an exemplification of the anxiety to have what they do 
 known and to get the credit of it 1 might instance liber- 
 ality or charity. Our Saviour enjoined unostentatious pri- 
 vacy : "Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand 
 diH-th."* But what a rarity is this! And how exceedingly 
 apt are we, even so far to impose upon our deceitful hearts, 
 as to try to unite what, in principle, never can be united; 
 and to do the thing in such a way as to ensure its being 
 known, while at the same time the charge of ostentation is 
 avoided ! so as that we may get commendation both for the 
 ad and for the manner of it ! This is the hypocrisy of self- 
 proclamation, that keeps self out of view; for the very pur- 
 pose of putting self forward. Tt is on the same principle 
 that we can satisfy ourselves with giving less to a collection 
 for any object, where the individual is lost in the aggre- 
 gate, than we should put down for the same object, in a 
 subscription paper, Avhere each appears singly and in favour- 
 able or unfavourable comparison. ! we do grudge so much 
 doing anything that is really creditable without getting the 
 credit for the doing of it ! Let us cultivate more simplicity 
 
 * Matt vi 14
 
 PROVERBS XX. 2-9. 33:1 
 
 of principle more singleness of eye; and let us not ; 
 that, according to our Saviour's words, in proportion as we 
 admit into the motives by which we are actuated the " love 
 of the praise of men," we in the same proportion deduct 
 from the approbation and " praise of God,'' the God who 
 " trieth the hearts.'' that we had grace to set a greater 
 value on Gods rucnjuilynvnt of us, and less on that of men; 
 that so "our Father who seeth in secret mav reward us 
 
 1 I" 
 
 openly . 
 
 " The Scriptures declare," says Dr. Lawson on this pas- 
 sage, " that a truly good man is rarely to be found ; and yet, 
 if men's own word could be taken, there is scarcely a bad 
 man to be found" Tliis is a true saying. Even those who 
 boast of what others call their vices, are, at the same tinu-, 
 ever ready with an offset of redeeming virtues. They are 
 no rarities who speak Avell of themselves, and defend them- 
 selves from the imputation of evil; which, when they can 
 not entirely disown, they palliate, and balance with compen- 
 satory good. 
 
 "But a faithful man who can find?" A faithful man 
 seems here to mean, a man thoroughly and conscientiously 
 faithful to principle who in heart and in life is true to 
 men, and true to God. He is one whom fellow-men .can 
 implicitly and fearlessly trust; who deals not in talk, in 
 promise and protestation, the verbiage of goodness; but 
 who considers and weighs his words, and says nothing, but 
 what he verifies in action; who carries resolutely out, in all 
 things, the principle of the royal law; and of whom, there- 
 fore, all have the satisfactory assurance, that he will not be 
 less regardful of the characters and interests of others, than 
 he is of his own. He is one too who, in regard to hi 
 is jealous of the tendencies of which we have been speaking; 
 keeps within the limits of sober truth, and keeps at-./j in the 
 back ground, except where duty to character, to useful DOS, 
 and to the cause to which he is devoted, requires self-vindi- 
 cation and self-eulogy. For such occasions there are. Paul 
 felt this. He was falsely charged, and his apostolic autho- 
 rity questioned; his usefulness was thus injured; and tho
 
 334 LECTURE LX. 
 
 cause of the gospel, and of the church, and of his Master, 
 was involved in danger ; and it became indispensable for him 
 to speak of himself, and to state and give prominence to 
 facts which he had long kept secret ; and which, but for the 
 operation of these circumstances, might have died with him. 
 We 'almost feel indebted to his adversaries, for having thus 
 drawn from him, in terms of dignified eloquence, what we 
 should not otherwise have known, and our ignorance of 
 which would have deprived us of a valuable example. Paul, 
 in all this, acted the part of a " faithful man," not to himself 
 alone, but to the Lord whom he served. Which leads me 
 to the higher point, that "a faithful man" is one who is always 
 unswervingly true to God. To HIM he has to give his ac- 
 count. He is aware of the principles of action which He 
 approves; and, without regard to the fear or the favour, the 
 smiles or the frowns of men, or the seeming temptations of 
 present self-interest, he seeks grace to adhere to these prin- 
 ciples, the only principles, he knows, that will be looked to 
 in the judgment; foregoing, it may be, present eclat and 
 present advantage, satisfied that " the day will declare it," 
 and that " his Father who seeth in secret will reward him 
 openly!" well may we say regarding the character in 
 this high and holy light, "A faithful man who can find]" 
 
 The first clause of the following verse "The just 
 man walketh in his integrity," has by some been ren- 
 dered " He that walketh in lu's integrity is a just or righ- 
 teous man." And this will correspond precisely with Xew 
 Testament statements.* There is no man who is in state just 
 before God, who is not under the predominant and habitual 
 influence of the principles of righteousness. " Walking in 
 his integrity" means this: means his maintaining a regular, 
 steadfast, persevering course of obedience; abhorring that 
 which is evil, and cleaving to that which is good." 
 
 "His children are blessed after him," in the benefits 
 derived from his instructions and example; not blessed it 
 may be in an inheritance of worldly wealth, but in an in- 
 
 * John ii. 29; iii. 7; Rom. viii. 1.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 29. 335 
 
 heritance of principles; and in the promise of God's cove- 
 nant realized in their happy experience, "I will be a G-nl 
 to thee, and to thy seed after thee."* 
 
 Verse 8. " A king that sitteth in the throne of judgment 
 scattereth away all evil with his eyes." The subject, under 
 other forms of expression, and in other points of light, has 
 been repeatedly before us. t 
 
 To ."sit in the throne of judgment" must evidently be 
 understood as meaning to occupy that seat in righteousness; 
 and to dispense judgment from it according to right princi- 
 ples. On any other supposition, it would cease to be the 
 throne of judgment, and become the throne of iniquity 
 " framing mischief by a law." Thus marked by righteous 
 ness was Solomon's judicial administration, in the outset 
 of his reign.j Our kings do not now occupy personally 
 the judgment-seat. But the principle of the words is appli- 
 cable to all judges. The seat they occupy is one of deep and 
 solemn responsibility one of lofty dignity one of com- 
 manding authority. The sentiments, and feelings, and man- 
 ner, -with, which it is occupied, ought to coiTespond with its 
 character and the nature of its functions. There must be 
 no levity, no littleness of self-satisfaction, no obliquity of 
 principle, no partialities, and predilections, and prejudices ; 
 but the calm majesty of truth and justice. In the very looks, 
 there ought to be the condemnation of all evil and guilt, 
 and the assurance of protection and favour to innocence. 
 The judge's glance should make offenders quail. He should 
 thus " scatter away evil with his eyes " putting it out of 
 countenance, covering it with shame, frowning it away 
 from him by merited severity, or subduing it to penitence 
 by the searching eye of tendei i 
 
 The words may justly be applied, in the spirit of them, 
 to the court of royal personages. There, their "eyes should 
 scatter away evil" Everything indecent and indecorous 
 should make the eye of majesty Hash rebuke, and bani.-h 
 the offence. 
 
 * Comp. Psal. ciii. 17, 18. 
 f Chap. xvi. 14, 15; xix. 12; xx. 2. J Sec 1 Kings iii. 28.
 
 330 LECTURE LX. 
 
 But the difficulties which surround even the most up- 
 right and best-intentioned princes, are not small, by rea- 
 son of the universal corruption of our fallen nature; a cor- 
 ruption in which their subjects and themselves are alike 
 involved. Those who are most aware of this, of the im- 
 perfection common to rulers with all others, and of the. 
 vast amount of varied materials of evil with which they have 
 to do, will be most disposed, as far as is consistent with 
 fidelity to the public good, to make charitable allowances 
 for the errors and failures into which the very soundest and 
 best disposed of rulers may at times fall. Possibly some- 
 thing of this kind may be the association of suggestion that 
 connects the ninth verse with this: "Who can say, I have 
 made my heart clean, I am pure from my sin?" This ques- 
 tion may be viewed in various lights. 
 
 We may apply it in regard to original sin the hereditary 
 taint of our apostate nature : That there is such a taint 
 such an absence of the right and only principle of all true 
 goodness, such an innate tendency to defection from God, 
 and to what is evil, might, on philosophical principles, be 
 demonstrated from the facts of the case, from the absolute 
 impossibility of accounting reasonably for the universality of 
 sin in the whole species, and in every individual of every 
 generation, on any other hypothesis. And that such is the 
 representation of Scripture, might be shown, from the per- 
 vading tenor of the whole Bible, and from many explicit 
 passages.* This universal inherent sinfulness of nature was, 
 I cannot doubt, in Solomon's mind, when he wrote the 
 words before us. 
 
 2. They proceed too on the universally Scriptural assump- 
 tion, that all that is truly and spiritually good in the heart of 
 man is the product of divine operation of the renewing in- 
 fluence of God's Spirit : " Who can say," that is, say with truth 
 "I have made my heart clean, I am pure from my sin 1 ?" 
 If the position of the apostle be a true one, that " the carnal 
 mind is enmity against God," there can hardly be a greater 
 
 * See Job xiv. 4; xv. 14; Psal. 11. 4; John iii. 6; Horn. viii. 7.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 2-9. 337 
 
 absurdity than is involved in the idea of spontaneously ori- 
 ginating self-change self-conversion; of enmity changing 
 itself into love choosing to love the object of its hatred ! 
 3. The words more than imply, under the form of a 
 question they strongly affirm, that the purification of the 
 heart is in no man perfect here. There is a purity of heart 
 ascribed to God's people, and characteristic of them. God's 
 children are "renewed in the spirit of their mind." But 
 still " Who shall say, I have made my heart clean, I am 
 pure from, my sin 1 ?" There 1 have been some who have pre- 
 sumed to say it. But what is the truth? It is easy to say 
 it ; but it will not be easy to make it good, in direct contra- 
 diction of the explicit affirmations of Scripture.* We may 
 be perfectly sure, that the idea of sinless perfection in any 
 case is a delusion. Were it in any one case realized, it would 
 ivn.sc. to be true, that "there is not a just man upon earth, 
 that doeth good, and sinneth not." And to the question in 
 the text "Who can say, I am pure from my sin 1 ?" it 
 might, in that case, be answered / am. It must, therefore, 
 be either a melancholy proof of the power of self-deception, 
 -or a shocking manifestation of the extravagance of hypo- 
 critical pretension. It is a characteristic of God's children, 
 that they see, as they advance heavenward, more and more 
 reason for self-abasement ; not that they sin more ; for they 
 become holier but their views, at the same time, of the 
 purity of God become fuller and stronger. The glass in 
 which they view themselves becomes clearer and more faith- 
 ful. Little sins, to minds growing in holiness, become more 
 loathsome. Yet "the path of the just is as the shining 
 light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." 
 
 * Eccl. vii. 20; 1 John i. 7-9. 
 II. T 
 
 '
 
 LECTURE LXI. 
 
 PROV. xx. 1014. 
 
 " Divers weights, and divers measures, both of them are alike abomination to 
 the Lord. Even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and 
 whether it be right. The hearing ear, and the seeing eye, the Lord hath made 
 even both of them. Love not sleep, lest thou come to poverty : open thine eyes, 
 and thou shall be satisfied with bread. It is naught, it is naught, saith the 
 buyer; but when he is gone his way, then he boasteth." 
 
 IN the original, as intimated on the margin of our English 
 Bible, the terms of the verse before us are " A stone and a 
 stone" (or a weight and a weight) "an ephah and an ephah." 
 The meaning is plain. A man, we shall suppose, would 
 that it were, in no case, more than supposition ! has one set 
 of weights and measures to sell with, and another to buy 
 with; one set for his customers, and another for the in- 
 spector ; one set for customers that are ignorant and unwary, 
 and another for those who know the trade, and are too shrewd 
 to be easily imposed upon; one set for the poor, the widow, 
 the orphan, the dependent, who cannot, or who dare not, 
 seek redress, and another for persons of influence, with whom 
 it is dangerous to trifle. But under this particular phra- 
 seology, are to be comprehended all fraudulent dealings 
 whatsoever, in every department of business, or of mutual 
 transaction between man and man. Nothing can be clearer 
 than that a short yard is as bad as a light weight or a scanty 
 measure : and that there is the very same sin also, in hav- 
 ing different articles at the same prices, or the same articles 
 at different prices, for the purpose of imposing on the igno-
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1014. 339 
 
 rant. It is a repetition of the great practical truth that 
 there ought to be nothing, in any of our transactions, but 
 what is open, straightforward, upright, and impartial; no 
 chicanery; no double-dealing; nothing one hairbreadth aside 
 from the line of the most rigid rectitude ; all as in the sight 
 of that God, whom not the most secret and skilful attempt 
 at imposition can escape, and to whom, as is frequently and so- 
 lemnly reiterated, everything of the kind is "an abomination." * 
 
 And if, in the dealings of the shop and the market, parti- 
 ality and unrighteousness are thus severely reprobated, how 
 much more when found in the "seat of judgment." JUSTICE 
 is usually, when personified, represented with bandaged eyes 
 and an evenly poised balance in her hand : intimating that 
 she must shut her eyes fast against every temptation, every 
 bribe to unfairness; must use no false evidence, no false 
 pleas, nor give any one atom of proof greater or less weight, 
 on either side, than belongs to it; nor, in awarding punish- 
 ment, employ "an ephali and an ephah," one measure of 
 recompense for one delinquent, and another for another. 
 Such conduct is worse on the judgment-seat than at the 
 counter, as the sphere is of a higher order; and whether it 
 be in the department of the civil magistracy, or in the ad- 
 ministration of the discipline of the house of God, the evil 
 is alike obnoxious to the divine displeasure. 
 
 Verse 11. "Even a child is known by his doings, whether 
 his work be pure, and whether it be right." Few of the 
 verses of this book have been more variously understood and 
 rendered than this. 
 
 1. In the first place, we have our own received version 
 just quoted. If here, the "doings" and the "work" mean 
 the same thing, as they seem to do, it may be asked, 
 Where lies the difficulty? The "doings" of the child art- 
 supposed to be seen and known, what difficulty can there- 
 be in discovering whether these very doings be pure and 
 right? To this the only answer that gives any appropriate 
 meaning to the sentence, must be, that the expression 
 
 * For further illustration, see chap. xi. 1; xvi. 11.
 
 340 LECTURE LXI. 
 
 "whether his work be pure and whether it be right" has 
 reference to the disposition, the state of mind and heart, the 
 motive, by which it is prompted. This gives, unquestionably, 
 a true and important sense. A child's dispositions, their 
 purity and rectitude, or the contrary, may be discovered 
 from his "doings." In these there is no little diversity very 
 early apparent. They are kind or cruel; they are open or 
 full of trick and deceit ; they are selfish or generous ; they 
 are rash or well-weighed and prudent. In "doings" of these 
 various descriptions, dispositions and tempers, of correspond- 
 ing variety, discover themselves ; and by the discovery, pa- 
 rents and guardians should be regulated in their modes of 
 dealing with the subjects of them. The same treatment 
 would never do for all. 
 
 2. Another translation is " Even a child, by his beha- 
 viour, will discover, (or make it known,) whether what he 
 hath done be innocent and right."* It is curious, and in 
 some cases amusing, to observe this. Symptoms of conscience 
 begin to show themselves; but it is often in such a way, 
 that the very means they use for concealment become the 
 means of detection. There is, perhaps, when they know 
 they have done something wrong, a want of their usual 
 frankness and openness, a timidity and shrinking from ob- 
 servation, looks of apprehensive jealousy, and an interpre- 
 tation of everything in the looks and words of others, as if 
 it had a meaning that bore upon them, and upon what they 
 have done; and at times, where there is much of the art- 
 less simplicity of childhood, blending itself with that natural 
 disregard of truth which manifests itself wherever self-interest 
 or fear requires falsehood, an over-eagerness to deny what, 
 but for the denial, might never have been known; a lie 
 thus bewraying the truth. A close observer of the behaviour 
 of children may see a vast deal of this self-detecting beha- 
 viour on the one hand, where evil has been done; and of 
 that open, undisguised artlessness on the other, by which 
 innocence becomes its own witness. 
 
 * Hodgson.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1014. 341 
 
 3. Another considers the present indications as having ref- 
 erence to the future: " Even a youth makes himself known 
 by his doings, whether his work that is, his future work, his 
 course of life will be pure, and whether it icill be right."* 
 
 This is a very important meaning in regard to its practical 
 utility. Moral depravity is the sad birthright of our fallen 
 nature. But this betrays itself in a great variety of modes. 
 Every one "goes astray;" but still, "each in his own way." 
 According to peculiar circumstances and particularities of 
 temperament, the common corruption assumes various aspects, 
 and takes different directions. Here then is an important 
 lesson for parents. They should feel the propriety and ne- 
 cessity of watching over specially strong tendencies to par- 
 ticular evils ; of bending a peculiarly vigilant eye on the sin 
 which, in early life, seems most easily to beset the childish 
 mind; and, on the other hand, of cherishing, with an as.-ilu- 
 ous and constant care, every symptom of good which, by the 
 blessing of God, presents itself. If it be right for parents to 
 note the diversity in the natural and early apparent talents, 
 turns of mind, and genius of their children, for the purpose of 
 directing them in their choice of a business or a profession in 
 life, surety their dispositions their moral tendencies, are much 
 more to be watched, and guarded, and guided. It is well when 
 mental superiority exists in union with moral worth. But 
 Christian parents, I say anew, should hold and act upon the 
 principle, that the slenderest intellect, with a heart on the 
 side of God, is incomparably more desirable in any of their 
 children, than powers of mind of even colossal greatness 
 associated with a heart under the sway of the world and sin ; 
 that a weak saint is better than an accomplished derll. 
 And in dealing with the good and evil symptoms of future 
 character that discover themselves in childhood, let parents 
 beware of a species of partiality to which they are exceed- 
 ingly prone, the partiality which treats the evil symptoms 
 as if they were only the indications of a childish ignorance 
 and thoughtlessness which time will, as a matter of course, 
 
 * Schulz.
 
 342 LECTURE LXI. 
 
 correct, and which need not therefore occasion much alarm, 
 and need not the application of any very careful or solicitous 
 restraint, while every symptom of good that appears is 
 trusted to, applauded, flattered, and everything expected 
 from it ; as if, in a world such as ours, there were not immi- 
 nent danger every moment of its suffering deterioration and 
 even extinction, of its being nipped in the bud or the 
 blossom; and therefore requiring the most vigilant and 
 anxious care in its shelter and cultivation. let not believ- 
 ing parents, who know from their Bibles what human 
 nature is, act, in the education of their children, as if the 
 evil were exotic and the good indigenous, as if the evil had 
 slight hold of the soil and were sure to wither, and the good 
 firmly rooted and sure to thrive. 
 
 4. The senses I have mentioned, proceed on the assump- 
 tion that the Hebrew word rendered " is knoicn," or make* 
 himself known, is derived from a particular root that has 
 the signification of knowing, knowing again, or recognizing. 
 By some eminent critics, however, this is more than doubted. 
 The word is considered as belonging to another root, of 
 which the signification is to make one's self strange, to pre- 
 tend to be other than one is, to dissemble. In support of this 
 are quoted Gen. xlii. 7 ; 1 Kings xiv. 5, 6. In these pas- 
 sages we have the same Avord rendered "made himself 
 strange;" "feigned herself another." The verse has there- 
 fore been translated: "Even a youth will, in his doings, 
 act the dissembler, that in truth his work is pure, that in 
 truth it is right."* This not only seems to agree with the 
 right meaning of the word; but harmonizes naturally with 
 the connexion in which it occurs following a verse that so 
 directly relates to deceit. 
 
 No one can have watched the tendencies of childhood, 
 without observing how early and how strong, whenever there 
 is the least tempting occasion for it, is the propensity to dis- 
 sembling ; to deny the wrong they have done, and to affirm 
 the good they have not done; concealing, by artifice and 
 
 * Parklmrst and Schultens.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1014. -343 
 
 falsehood, what they know will be condemned and subject 
 them to punishment; and pretending the contrary, what 
 they know will get them safety from punishment and the 
 smile of approbation. 
 
 This natural disposition grows by success. It becomes 
 habitual. It is the commencement the germ of all the 
 dishonesties, the lies, and the frauds of the subsequent life. 
 The opposite disposition and practice, openness and can- 
 dour, frankness and simplicity of confession, with the sin- 
 fulness and the danger of all dissimulation, should be care- 
 fully and constantly impressed on the youthful spirit. And 
 example ought ever to be in accordance with the instructions 
 and admonitions given. Children are often a great deal more 
 sharp- sighted than foolish parents give them credit for. If 
 they ever hear their parents saying, though it may not be to 
 themselves, what they know not to be strictly true, or if they 
 see them do what they have sense enough to discern not to 
 be strictly honest, what can those parents reasonably expect ? 
 to have their counsels attended to and obeyed 1 and their 
 corrections taken in a spirit likely to render them of any ser- 
 vice ? The expectation were folly. Their corrections, in such 
 circumstances, are unjust and cruel On themselves ought 
 the chastisement to be inflicted. Their backs should bear 
 the stripes. Parents, and servants entrusted with the care 
 of children, should be exceedingly cautious in avoiding 
 everything approaching to simulation in their treatment of 
 them. I know nothing more pernicious. It should never 
 be resorted to, even for a good purpose. Be assured that the 
 detection of the dissimulation will do much more harm than 
 that which is avoided by the dissimulation itself. There are 
 many common practices, in the management of children, 
 which it would be well for all who have the care of them to 
 shun. How often are children, when they cry or are frac- 
 tious, quieted, or the attempt at least made to quiet them, 
 by telling them what is not true ! This is done in different ways. 
 What is told is something frightful, and is meant to alarm 
 them; or it is something pleasing, that is meant to soothe 
 them; but neither the one thing nor the other has any ox-
 
 344 LECTURE LXI. 
 
 istence. Something is promised, which is not to be given, 
 which, it is known perhaps, cannot be given : or something 
 is threatened, wliich is not to be executed. The things 
 themselves may be trifling; but there is nothing trifling to 
 a child : they may be the thoughtless figments of fancy, but 
 the child has not learned to distinguish between fancy and 
 reality. It is all bad; initiating children in habits of light 
 estimation of truth, and the harmlessness of dissembling for 
 a present purpose. And allow me to say to nursery ser- 
 vants, who have so much in their power in regard to the 
 early impressions on the minds of children, -that they ought 
 to be specially on their guard against making children par- 
 ties with themselves in any acts of dissembling with their 
 parents. This is the most shocking of all lessons. let 
 no consideration of preventing their own detection in what 
 is wrong, ever tempt them to put children, who have seen 
 and known their fault, on the practice of concealment, pre- 
 varication, and falsehood, with their own father or mother. 
 The thing is fearful. Let all be openness, sincerity, candour, 
 truth, at every hazard : no sporting with evil ; no equivo- 
 cation; no laughing at successful artifice; nothing but what 
 the God of truth, who " desireth truth in the inward parts," 
 Avill mark with approbation. 
 
 Verse 12. "The hearing ear, and the seeing eye, the 
 Lord hath made even both of them." Our whole frame is 
 of divine contrivance, and divine workmanship ; and truly it 
 is a structure of most complicated and exquisite mechanism ; 
 a little world of wonders; where, the longer and the more 
 closely we examine, the more we are confounded, and lost in 
 admiration. The man who can inspect it, and doubt of a 
 God, is beyond the reach of argument. The Psalmist utters 
 the language of sound reason, as well as of piety, when he 
 says " I will praise thee ; for I am fearfully and wonder- 
 fully made : marvellous are thy works ; and that my soul 
 knoweth right well" And of the human frame, there are 
 no parts more wonderful, in their contrivance and execution, 
 and the delicate and intricate nicety of their adaptation to 
 their respective functions, -than " the seeing eye and the
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1014. 345 
 
 hearing ear." The eye, by its admirable combination, of 
 coats, and humours, and lenses, produces on the retina, or 
 expansion of nerve at the back of the socket or boney cavity 
 in which it is so securely lodged, a distinct picture of the 
 minutest or largest object ; so that, on a space that is less 
 than an inch in diameter, a landscape of miles in extent, 
 with all its variety of scenery, is depicted with perfect exact- 
 ness of relative proportion in all its parts ! And how com- 
 plex and delicate is " the hearing ear ! " by no means less 
 wonderful than the eye, though less exposed to human ob- 
 servation, lying deep, except its outer part, in the bones of 
 the head. What the eye is to light, the ear is to sound. 
 And how divinely perfect its construction ! so strong, as not 
 to be painfully affected by the burst and roll of the loudest 
 thunder; and yet so delicately sensitive as to receive im 
 pressions of sound from those undulations of the air that 
 are produced by the very softest whisper! 
 
 But "the hearing ear and the seeing eye" include some- 
 thing more than this and still more wonderful. What I have 
 mentioned, is but the mechanism. We can, by attending to 
 the laws of vision and sound, produce something that, in 
 structure and in mechanical or physical effect, bears some 
 analogy to them. But this is not sight; this is not hearing. 
 These imply perception. And to perception there are requi- 
 site an auditory and an optic nerve, that convey the sensa- 
 tions of sound and vision to the brain; and a perceiving 
 mind, an immaterial, spiritual, thinking substance, essence, 
 element or what else shall we call it? that thus receives 
 its perceptions of things heard and things seen ! ! this is 
 the highest and deepest wonder of all! The mechanical 
 structure we can trace out and demonstrate. We can show 
 how, by the laws of transmission and refraction, the picture 
 is made on the retina of the eye ; and how, by the laws of 
 sound, the yielding, tremulous, undulating air affects the 
 tympanum, or drum, of the ear. But we can get no farther. 
 How it is that the mind receives its perceptions, how it is 
 that it is affected, what is the nature of nervous influence, 
 or of the process by which, through the medium of the
 
 316 LECTURE LXI. 
 
 nerves and the brain, thought is produced in the mind, of 
 all this we are profoundly ignorant. 
 
 But although the mention of " the hearing ear and the 
 seeing eye" has naturally led to such remarks, it is not, 
 certainly, for the purpose of setting forth the skill of the 
 Maker, that Solomon, in this place, introduces them. The 
 verse seems to bear a very intelligible connexion with the 
 two preceding, though to some it may not be apparent. 
 Dishonesty and dissimulation, whether practised by old or 
 young, might escape the detection of men, but not of God. 
 He who made both "the hearing ear and the seeing eye" 
 shall HE not hear and see 1 Remember, then, all, this deeply 
 solemn fact : GOD sees you, GOD hears you. Further, let 
 those who possess, in healthy soundness, the " hearing ear and 
 the seeing eye," be thankful to God for the blessing. There 
 are " ears which hear not, and eyes which see not." Ponder 
 well the question, intended to engender at once humility and 
 gratitude, "Who maketh thee to differ?" and let this con- 
 sideration impress all, the young especially, with the crimi- 
 nality of either mocking, or taking advantage of, the deaf or 
 the blind. The Lord will avenge them.* Be ye, as far as 
 lieth in you, " ears to the deaf, and eyes to the blind ! " Fur- 
 ther, strive to make a right use of .these precious organs of 
 hearing and of sight, remembering that to the divine Maker 
 of them you are answerable for the use to which you turn 
 them. Lastly, the hearing ear and the seeing eye, in a far 
 more important meaning of the terms, are from God. Spiri- 
 tual hearing and spiritual sight are His gift. " The hearing 
 ear" is the obedient ear the disposition to do God's will: 
 the seeing eye is the understanding the spiritually under- 
 standing mind. Botti come from "the God of all grace." 
 There are, in Scripture phrase, "the blind people that have 
 eyes, and the deaf that have ears," who " having eyes see 
 not, and having ears hear not." This is their guilt. It is the 
 depravity of the heart that is the only obstructing film on 
 the eye of the understanding in regard to the things of God. 
 
 * See Lev. xix. 14.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1014. 347 
 
 It is this that disposes the sinner, like " the deaf adder," to 
 shut his ear to the " voice of the charmer." 
 
 In the next verse we have the recurrence again of an oft- 
 repeated maxim, that sloth brings ruin; diligence prosperity : 
 "Love not sleep, lest thou come to poverty; open thine 
 eyes, and thou shalt be satisfied with bread." 
 
 Verse 1 4. " It is naught, it is naught, saith the buyer : 
 but when he is gone his way, then he boasteth." The won! 
 rendered " the buyer" has also the signification, very natur- 
 ally, of the possessor. Hence two views have been taken of 
 the meaning of the verse. One critic of eminence * renders 
 thus : " Worthless ! worthless ! says the possessor : but 
 when the thing is gone from him (is lost) then he praises 
 it ! " According to this view, the sentiment expressed is, 
 the comparatively light value we attach to what is actually 
 in our possession; whereas, when we can no longer com- 
 mand the possession, we immediately perceive, feel, or fancy 
 its preciqusness. Good in possession appears less in value; 
 good in expectation, greater like objects seen at a distance, 
 through a particular medium. We praise the absent, we 
 depreciate the present good. Then there is the more ordinary 
 sense ; which appears also to be the true one. The reference 
 is to the acts of the " buyer" to procure a good bargain ; and 
 the disposition to boast of his success. In this sense, the 
 case, as it appears to have been common in the days of Solo- 
 mon, is certainly no less so now. It occurs every day, and 
 every hour, in all the departments of business, in every 
 market. "Bad bad very bad! You never surely can 
 think of asking, far less of getting, such a price for this! 
 It is far from being an article worth anything like the 
 money." Thus the buyer goes on, running down what he 
 wants to purchase; yet, all the while, he is perfectly 
 satisfied that the article is one of the best of its kind, and 
 the price put upon it exceedingly reasonable. Now, what, I 
 ask, is this but lying? plain downright lying? It is saying 
 what we do not think: and wherein does that differ from ly- 
 
 + Schultens.
 
 348 LECTURE LXI. 
 
 ing? In thus cheapening and underrating the value of what 
 we are about to purchase, we tell a lie, or a tissue of lies, to 
 get a bargain ! And all that we may afterwards have a good 
 story to tell of our skill and success in gaining our end: 
 "When he is gone his way, then he boast eth!" But of 
 what does he " boast 1 " Does he not glory in his shame ? 
 glory in what it were easy for any man even of the meanest 
 modicum of intellect to do, if he could only satisfy his con- 
 science so far as to say what he did not think; or could 
 muster up hardihood enough to put upon the falsehood a face 
 of sincerity ? 
 
 And the principle of th-e verse has the very same force of 
 application on the side of the seller ; when he seeks to make 
 a good bargain for himself by over-praising and over-valuing 
 his article, representing it as possessing qualities that do 
 not belong to it, or real qualities in a greater degree than 
 truth warrants ; and demanding for it, as its bond fide value, 
 a higher price than he knows it to be really worth. It is 
 evident, that in these two cases, the evil is the very same. 
 It is the evil of violating truth for self interest, or for the 
 credit of skill in bargain-making. The " boasting" is, in every 
 case, " glorying in our shame." I apprehend that the same 
 evil is committed, though less directly, by the common prac- 
 tice of concealing the known defects and faults of the article 
 we sell. What is the great difference between the seller 
 concealing faults which do exist, and the buyer alleging faults 
 which do not exist? It will not do, in the estimate of strict 
 integrity, to say " He saw his article ; he had full opportunity 
 to inspect and examine it; he need not have taken it 1111- 
 less he chose." All true : but the plain and palpable fact 
 still stands you have taken a price for your article which 
 you knew it was not ^corth, and which the purchaser, with 
 your knowledge, would not have given. Is this honesty? 
 Is this practical truth? Is this the spirit, or is it capable 
 of being at all reconciled to the spirit of the golden rule ? No, 
 my brethren : the divine principles of Christianity must not 
 be made to bend to the customs of a market, or to the loose 
 and conventional morality which the buyers and sellers of
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1014. 349 
 
 this world may, in any case, choose to impose upon them- 
 selves. All must be daylight nothing in the dark no- 
 thing even in the dimness and twilight of dubious principle. 
 The conscience must be kept clear without misgiving. How 
 would you relish the thought, while you were chuckling over 
 your success in getting so good a price for your article, that 
 the buyer on whom you had succeeded in imposing, should 
 curse you for a swindler, and load your religion with revil- 
 ings, and blaspheme the blessed name by which you are 
 called ] or, if you have succeeded, as a buyer, in getting from 
 the seller an article far below what you knew to be its real 
 value, by taking advantage, for example, of his exigency at 
 the time for ready money compelling him to part with it, 
 that he should post you as a hard iron-hearted extortioner, 
 that took advantage of a man's necessities to drive an iniqui- 
 tous bargain? 
 
 for more, amongst Christians, of sterling practical con- 
 sistency ! There may be a great deal of talk about sanctifi- 
 cation, where, alas ! there is sadly little of truly sanctified 
 conduct. Some men seem as if they thought religion con- 
 sisted in being able to talk well about the gospel mystery 
 of sanctification ; and they will go far deeper into it, and 
 make much more mystery of it, than the Bible itself; for 
 there, there is no mystery in the subject. But the great mat- 
 ter is practical sanctity of life : and that, consisting, not 
 in any regular routine of religious exercises, private or pub- 
 lic, or even the unwonted multiplication of these ; but in 
 " doing justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God." 
 It will not do for a man to have prayers morning and evening 
 in his family, while he makes little scruple of dishonesty 
 and dirty trickery in his business through the day. Away 
 with the miserable inconsistency! Better, far better, no 
 prayers, than prayers of which the devotion is belied by the 
 conduct. An avowed infidel is a far less mischievous char- 
 acter than such a professor. Let every professing Christian 
 be the same in the market that he is upon his knees; the 
 same in his dealings with men, that he seems to be in his 
 intercourse with God.
 
 LECTURE LXII. 
 
 PROV. xx. 15 21. 
 
 " There is gold, and a multitude of rubies: but the lips of knowledge are a 
 precious jewel. Take his garment that is surety for a stranger; and take a 
 pledge of him for a strange woman. Bread of deceit is sweet to a man ; but 
 afterwards his mouth shall be filled with gravel. Every purpose is established 
 by counsel; and with good advice make war. He that goeth about as a tale- 
 bearer revealeth secrets; therefore meddle not with him that flattereth with his 
 lips. Whoso curseth his father or his mother, his lamp shall be put out in ob- 
 scure darkness. An inheritance may be gotten hastily at the beginning, but the 
 end thereof shall not be blessed." 
 
 IT is evident that, in the first of these verses, it is intended to 
 bring the two things mentioned into comparison. And the 
 comparison may be considered as designed, first, in regard to 
 abundance and scarcity. The idea is conveyed, of the one 
 article being in plenty, and the other being a rarity. " There 
 is gold and a multitude of rubies" that is, there is no lack 
 of these. " But the lips of knowledge," which, of course, 
 presuppose and include the mind enlightened and the heart 
 influenced by the knowledge which the lips impart, are " a 
 precious jewel" Some jewels are more common, some more 
 rare; the rarest being the most precioxis and costly. Now 
 such a jewel a diamond of the purest water, " a pearl of 
 great price," are "the lips of knowledge," lips diffusing 
 knowledge from a wise and understanding heart. 
 
 The comparison is also designed in regard to the real in- 
 trinsic worth of the things mentioned, their sterling value. 
 "Knowledge" is an attribute of mind; and even in this 
 view possesses a nature more excellent than mere external
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1521. 351 
 
 property, of which the veriest fool, who has little if any 
 mind at all, may chance at times to have the largest share. 
 As mind ranks above matter, "knowledge" ranks above 
 wealth; and as of all the descriptions of knowledge which 
 mind can possess, that which has God for its object is, be- 
 yond comparison, the most valuable, the lips that commu- 
 nicate it are inestimably precious. They are precious in 
 all seasons, under all circumstances, and in all the relation- 
 ships of life. And there is a time (as some who now hear 
 me are delightfully and soothingly feeling) when, above all 
 others, " the lips of knowledge" are thus precious when life 
 itself is closing. The deathbed sayings of dying saints 
 what "precious jewels" these are! It is not, indeed, on 
 deathbed sayings that our hopes rest of the everlasting well- 
 being of those we love. The nature and circumstances of their 
 departure may be such as not to admit of them ; and we look 
 to the surer evidence of the previous consistent life, the 
 manifestations in it of the sincerity and the power of faith. 
 But still, we desire, and delight to have them. What could 
 "gold and the multitude of rubies" do, to soothe the agitated 
 and agonized spirit, in the season of bereavement and sorrow, 
 when " the desire of our eyes has been taken away by God's 
 stroke 1 " But how full of comfort true, rich, sterling com- 
 fort when the afflicted heart can have recourse to the 
 fondly-retentive memory, where, as in a cabinet, these gems 
 of inestimable value are laid up, and take them down, and 
 examine them over and over again, and still with new and 
 growing satisfaction ! Yes, the dying utterances of the " lips 
 of knowledge" are jewels on which survivors know not 
 how to set a value ! And, while peculiarly precious to rela- 
 tives and friends, they are precious to all, as delightful 
 proofs of the reality of religion, of the divinity of the gos- 
 pel, affording a confirmation to our faith, and a cheering 
 animation to our hope, in anticipating the time of our own 
 final adieu to the present world, with all that endears it to 
 our affections ! 
 
 Verse 16. "Take his garment that is surety for a stran- 
 ger; and take a pledge of him for a strange woman." The
 
 352 LECTURE LXII. 
 
 subject of suretiship has already been more than once 
 before us.* The case here supposed is in the first place one 
 of grievous imprudence. It is becoming surety for "a 
 stranger;" a person of whom the man who "strikes hands" 
 knows little or nothing, either as to his property or his 
 character whether he has the means of relieving the sureti- 
 ship, or whether he has the honest intention; any new ac- 
 quaintance, who has accidentally fallen in his way, who 
 chances to please him, and for whose company and con- 
 versation and manners he takes a sudden fancy. Any deal- 
 ings with the man who acts thus involve the greatest risk. 
 This is expressed in the language " Take his garment that 
 is surety for a stranger." The meaning is, lend such a man 
 nothing without good security the utmost that can be got, 
 to his very garment. The strong terms are probably intended 
 to convey the advice to have nothing whatever to do with a 
 man of this description to decline all dealings with him. 
 This is the more likely, that the garment was the very last 
 thing that, under the Jewish law, was allowed to be taken 
 in pledge ; and it was not permitted to be kept beyond the 
 passing day.t 
 
 It is a case also of infatuated profligacy: "And take a 
 pledge of him for a strange woman." Two reasons might 
 be assigned for this, a more general, and a more special : 
 first, because he is a profligate character ; giving his time and 
 his strength to vicious indulgence, and not, therefore, very 
 likely to be steadily attentive to business, or very mindful of 
 principle in the management of it; exposed to temptation, 
 to spend on his vices what ought to be reserved for pay- 
 ment of his debts, and not, consequently, safe to be trusted. 
 The less you have to do with him the better. Then, secondly, 
 because when a man has become the slave of this particular 
 description of passions, when he has fallen into the snare 
 of the harlot, when he has surrendered himself to the fas- 
 cinations of female blandishment, there is hardly anything so 
 foolish, and hardly anything so base, which the woman in 
 
 * Cliap. vi. 1,2; xi. 15; xvii. 18. f See Exod. xxii. 26, 27.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 15-21. 353 
 
 whose toils he has been taken may not prevail upon him to 
 do. To this, alas ! experience, in all ages, and in all nations, 
 bears most ample testimony. 
 
 Verse 1 7. " Bread of deceit is sweet to a man ; but after- 
 wards his mouth shall be filled with gravel." This is a very 
 lively and pithy figure to express a very important senti- 
 ment. The sentiment is this : " Property obtained by un- 
 just means, how gratifying soever at the time the acquisition 
 of it may be, will ultimately yield anything but satisfaction." 
 Whence may this be supposed to arise? First, from con- 
 science. Success in fraudulent schemes may for the time 
 blind the man's mind who is practising them, from being 
 sufficiently sensible of the evil he is doing. It may infa- 
 tuate him. It may lay his conscience asleep, and keep it 
 slumbering. Thus for a while he may rejoice in his newly- 
 acquired possessions. But the hurry and eagerness of the 
 pursuit subside; the novelty of acquisition wears off; the 
 man has leisure for reflection. Then conscience begins its 
 work of reproof. It arraigns him secretly, within the privacy 
 of his own bosom, at its bar. It passes sentence on the means 
 by which he has got what is giving him his pleasure; puts 
 a sting into the recollection of them. Thus his presemt en- 
 joyment is embittered by memory. Memory is for ever sum- 
 moning him anew before the tribunal of conscience, and read- 
 ing new articles of indictment against him. Thus all the 
 sweetness is extracted from his enjoyment. His bread is 
 " eaten with bitter herbs ; " or, to keep by the figure before us, 
 " his mouth is filled with gravel." Nothing could be more 
 emphatically expressive of bitter disappointment, than the 
 idea of a hungry man putting into his mouth, with an eager 
 appetite, the bread that should relieve and satisfy his craving, 
 and finding it turn to sand and gravel stones ! 
 
 A further cause is the absence of the blessing of God. God 
 is righteous. He can regard with no complacency possessions 
 which have been thus obtained. He curses them. And the 
 variety is endless, of the ways in which He can make his 
 hidden curse to be felt. He can, as we have been mention- 
 ing, make the inward monitor do its duty, and become the 
 
 II. Z
 
 354 LECTURE LXII. 
 
 unrighteous man's secret tormentor. He can bring his frauds 
 to light by means that are beyond the culprit's control, and 
 which no efforts of his can possibly counteract; and thus 
 cover him with infamy, and even deprive hftn of his ill-got- 
 ten gains, and bring him to poverty, by taking confidence 
 and credit away from him. Or He can make his successful 
 frauds and his ill-gotten gains the means of tempting him to 
 further speculations, by which all comes to be lost that he 
 had acquired. Or He can render him, to his ruin, the miser- 
 able mortified dupe of artifices still deeper than his own. In 
 these and a hundred other ways, He can verify the proverb, 
 and convert the "bread of deceit" into mouthfuls of gravel* 
 We shall take in connexion with the sentiment of this 
 verse that in the twenty-first, " An inheritance may be got- 
 ten hastily at the beginning; but the end thereof shall not 
 be blessed." As to this verse, it must be evident, that in the 
 word "hastily" more is implied than is expressed. A man 
 may get an estate, and a large one too, with all the abun- 
 dance attendant upon it, by succession; may thus come to it 
 at once, yet with perfect integrity on his part. ^N"ay, by sud- 
 den events, affecting the state of markets, a man may make 
 a fortune with startling rapidity, and be chargeable with 
 nothing inconsistent with the most, conscientious principle. 
 Or the sudden acquisition may be the consequence of some 
 speculation of a perfectly honest and even prudent -and alto- 
 gether justifiable character, with which no one has any fair 
 ground to find fault. But "hastily," here, is evidently 
 meant to imply that some improper and unjustifiable means 
 have been employed to expedite possession. A man, for 
 instance, may, by violence, remove from the inheritance its 
 present occupant, and thus make way, before the time, for 
 himself; or, by some unrighteous means, he may supplant 
 the immediate successor, the one who comes between him- 
 self and the present occupant. Or, in the prosecution of 
 business, there may be an over-eager "hasting to be rich," 
 by oppressing and grinding the poor, by defrauding the 
 
 * Comp. Jer. xvii. 11.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1521. 355 
 
 public revenue, by raising false reports and employing other 
 unfair means to affect the money-market, the rate of exchange, 
 or the value of particular descriptions of goods and property. 
 " But in the ena, it shall not be blessed." The possessor 
 may appear happy ; but there are no cases in which it would 
 be more foolish for us to judge according to appearances. 
 There may, many a time, be a great amount of secret misery, 
 that is not visible to the eye of man. So much so, that 
 it is very difficult for us to say, when a man is really happy 
 in earthly things, and when he is not. There is 6ften much 
 of the semblance of happiness assumed in the intercourse 
 of general society that covers a sad reality both of personal 
 and domestic misery. The smile may be upon the lips, 
 when the worm of secret remorse is gnawing at the heart. 
 The face that is all glee in the public assemblies of fashion 
 and gaiety, may be all gloom and fretfulness at the fire- 
 side; and the brow that is serene and unclouded in the 
 parlour, may be depressed with melancholy or knitted with 
 agony in the solitary chamber or the lonely walk. 
 
 And above all, there is a sense of the words " in the end 
 it shall not be blessed," that should make the heart of every 
 unrighteous and selfish " haster to be rich," " meditate ter- 
 ror." At the last in the dying hour, and in that day 
 when "God shall bring every work into judgment, with 
 every secret thing," instead of blessing, it will bring the dis- 
 tress of remorseful anticipation, and the shame and curse 
 and "everlasting contempt" in which all must end that is 
 contrary to the Mill of the Just One. It is a simple but 
 affecting statement " When he dieth he shall carry nothing 
 away." He may even die in possession; but nothing can he 
 carry one step beyond the confines of life, nothing save 
 remorse and despair; and these, when all else fails him, shall 
 abide with him for ever. Present gain shall be future and 
 eternal loss. 
 
 In the former part of the next verse we have a general 
 maxim of practical importance, and in the latter the applica- 
 tion of it to a special case : 
 
 1. The general maxim:" Every purpose is established
 
 356 LECTURE LXII. 
 
 by counsel." It is a truth, both with regard to good counsel 
 and to evil: for by good counsel evil purposes may be over- 
 turned, and by evil counsel purposes that are good. How 
 often do wicked men consult together for establishing their 
 evil devices, and the more effectually accomplishing their 
 purposes and plans of mischief ! So ought we to do, in re- 
 gard to purposes and plans for good. The first inquiry 
 should be, to ascertain fully that it is indeed good we are 
 proposing to seek; and then, the better it is, the more soli- 
 citous should we be to adopt right and promising means for 
 its attainment. This is the proper order, both for considera- 
 tion in our own minds, and consultation with others : first, 
 the goodness of the end; then the goodness of the means: 
 and our anxiety for sound and wholesome counsel should be 
 in proportion to the probable nature and magnitude of con- 
 sequences from any projected plan of procedure. 
 
 2. We have a special application of the general maxim : 
 "With good advice make war." It must be obvious to 
 you, that this is quite the opposite of an encouragement to a 
 warlike spirit. It assumes, indeed, that war may be made ; 
 and even that there are cases in which it cannot be avoided. 
 But the evident meaning is, that in no case should it be 
 made rashly and inconsiderately ; but that, on the contrary, 
 the utmost deliberation and the soundest advice are necessary 
 ere it be resorted to. .1 shall make no attempt to paint war's 
 unnumbered horrors. It has written Aceldama and Gol- 
 gotha on many a fair and flourishing region of our globe. I 
 will not describe either the battle scene itself, or the battle- 
 Jield when the battle itself is over, the phrenzy of the one, 
 or the woe of the other; the frantic thirst for blood, the 
 eagerness of effort to cleave heads and pierce hearts, and in 
 every way wound and maim and kill, that rages during the 
 conflict; nor, when the conflict is done, the ghastly and 
 frightful wounds, the maimed and mutilated bodies, the 
 pains and groans and shrieks of the dying, and all the untold 
 horrors of the field of carnage and blood. Such a field I can 
 well believe to be a scene, of which none but those who 
 have actually beheld it can form a conception equal to the
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1521. 35? 
 
 truth. NOT will I pass from that scene to remind you of 
 what some of us can look back upon with a sigh of the 
 multitudes of bereaved and weeping fathers and mothers, 
 wives and children, brothers and sisters, and relatives of 
 all degrees, which are the necessary consequence of every 
 battle, whether by land or by sea. And when I have men- 
 tioned the expenditure of human life, I should be ashamed 
 to notice after it, as unworthy of being brought into com- 
 parison, the expenditure of the national treastires, and 
 the consequent burdening of the nation's property, and in- 
 come, and articles of consumption. WAR should be a word, 
 needing only to be named, to fill every heart with indignant 
 abhorrence ; it is environed with so many of the very worst 
 realities of misery. Alas! on this very account, that it 
 should, at the same time, be surrounded with so many false 
 glories so many enticing honours ! Jt requires to be so, to 
 induce any to engage in it. They are dazzled by its honours 
 to tempt them to face its dangers. 
 
 I am by no means prepared to go so far as some have 
 gone, by whom war, in every case, and under every form of 
 it, whether cM'ensive or o/fensive, is held unjustifiable. I 
 would say, however 
 
 1. Xone but wars that are strictly defensive can, on any 
 principle of humanity or of justice, be vindicated; nor ought 
 they even to be palliated. All wars that are undertaken for 
 conquest, for the extension of territory, for the gratifica- 
 tion of either kingly or national ambition, or for any similar 
 purposes, I can regard in' no other light than as schemes of 
 wholesale injustice, cruelty, oppression, and murder. All 
 the blood that is shed in them is the blood of murder. It 
 is on the nation's hands, and cries from the ground for ven- 
 geance. And those who undertake and prosecute such wars, 
 instead of being complimented with the epithets of greatness, 
 bedizzened with marks of honour, and their names handed 
 down to posterity with the halo of glory around them, 
 should be pilloried to the execrations of all succeeding ages. 
 Such have all the men of mere conquest and ambition been 
 from Mmrod to Napoleon.
 
 358 LECTURE LXIL 
 
 2. Even with regard to defensive wars, wars which we 
 may consider justifiable in their abstract principle, it 
 should be well ascertained, that they really are defen- 
 sive. In my mind, the full extent of justifiable war is 
 this that when an attack is made, we be prepared to 
 rQpel it. I am more than jealous of all wars that are 
 undertaken on the surmise and suspicion of existing in- 
 tentions, of problematical possibilities or probabilities of 
 what another nation is projecting and intending against us. 
 This is hazardous ground for creatures to take, who "know 
 not what a day may bring forth." We may thus, on the 
 ground of mere apprehension, of what may have no ex- 
 istence save in our own minds, attack and wrong an 
 unoffending nation, and waste both their lives and those of 
 our own countrymen on the mere p^radvcnture, the mere 
 mayhaj) of our own foo jealous sensitiveness. And then, 
 when it really does bear the proper character of defensive 
 war, has everything possible been done, on our part, to 
 shun it? every practicable expedient tried, and tried in 
 earnest, for preventing matters coming to the extremity? 
 Have all such explanations and concessions been made as by 
 possibility can be made ? Has every becoming anxiety been 
 shown to maintain or restore a good understanding, and 
 avoid an evil, or rather an accumulation of evils, so dread- 
 ful ? As I could not justify an individual who should take 
 the life of another, so long as there existed the remotest pos- 
 sibility of effecting his own safety and escape otherwise; so 
 neither could I undertake to vindicate even wai-s of defence, 
 if proper means, every means at all accessible, had not been 
 used to prevent their necessity; and their necessity, as 
 measured I am afraid to say by the nation's honour, for 
 that is so very often nothing more than the nation's touchy 
 and sensitive pride, but by the nation's safety. Assuredly, 
 in nineteen cases out of twenty, the best advice Avould be, 
 not to make war at all: and a truly wise and good Govern- 
 ment will ever incline to this counsel and to this course. 
 But alas ! princes and governments have most generally been 
 of another mind. They have too often stood upon every
 
 PROVERBS XX. 15-21. 359 
 
 punctilio, and rather sought and fomented occasions of quar- 
 rel, than done what they could to avoid and to remove them. 
 They have looked for all concession from the one side j and 
 have too frequently excited the very cause that has produced 
 the hostile position, and then converted it into their apology ! 
 Would it could be said of our own country, that in these 
 respects, either in times more recent or more remote, she was 
 free of blame ! Like Moab, alas ! we have been " exceeding 
 proud." And, while this has been a national sin, it has too 
 often also been the sin of our princes. Warlike kings have 
 had, as a matter of course, warlike courtiers. Whenever a 
 monarch has said, " Shall I go up to Ramoth-Gilead to bat- 
 tle] or shall I forbear]" there have always been enow 
 of Zedekiahs, with their lips of flattery and their symbolical 
 horns of iron, to say, "Go and prosper!" and but few Mi- 
 caiahs, men of honest and independent principle, "faithful 
 among the faithless" to lift the voice of dissuasion. It 
 ought to be "good advice" indeed, well-weighed, and seri- 
 ously, deliberately taken, when peace or war is the alternative. 
 The spirit of the verse is of course applicable to all private 
 personal and domestic differences and quarrels. be men 
 of peace; and be peacemakers. This -is the character befit- 
 ting the followers of the " Prince of peace." All such should 
 deprecate war, and should do all that lies in their power to 
 diffuse and cherish the spirit of peace. In a nation hike ours, 
 where public opinion and feeling have such an amount of 
 imperative influence, this is of special importance. For true 
 indeed is the language of a. Christian poet of our own 
 
 " War is a game, which, were their subjects wise, 
 Kings should not play at." 
 
 The taste for war is the most dreadful taste for the well- 
 being of the world that can possibly prevail 
 
 Verse 1 9. " He that goeth about as a talebearer revealeth 
 secrets ; therefore meddle not with him that flattereth with 
 his lips." It seems to be the malignant talebearer that is, 
 at least especially, meant in this verse. The first object 
 ia to get secrets. This is the end of the flattery in the
 
 360 LECTURE LXII. 
 
 second clause of the verse. He " flattereth with his lips" to 
 insinuate himself into the good graces of individuals and 
 families, and to draw out their secrets from them, hy working 
 liimself into intimate familiarity. And, to further his end, 
 he, directly or indirectly, by sly insinuations or open abuse, 
 as best suits particular cases, gratifies their feeling of dislike 
 to their enemies. Then having wormed out the wished-for 
 secrets, to those very enemies he is immediately off, to tell 
 them all, and to pour into their ears flattery of themselves, 
 and abuse of those he had just been flattering. He " goeth 
 about" from one to another, from family to family; retails 
 his stories; makes his comments; and leaves his wounds to 
 rankle and inflame in successive bosoms. 
 
 Mark the warning " Meddle not with him." "When you 
 find a man disposed to flatter yourselves, and to ridicule and 
 vilify the absent suspect him; beware of him; make no 
 confidential communications to him. He is aiming at some 
 end of his own. The less you have to say to him, or to do 
 with him, the better. The probability is, that in the very 
 next place to which he goes, you yourself may be the subject 
 of his ill-natured sarcasms, and the very persons he has to 
 you been reviling, the -subjects of his flattery. 
 
 Verse 20. " Whoso curseth his father or his mother, his 
 lamp shall be put out in obscure darkness."* To curse is 
 to imprecate evil on any one. How monstrous the thought ! 
 " cursing father or mother ! " the authors of your being ! 
 the preservers and nourishers of your infancy and childhood ! 
 the proper guardians of your boyhood and youth ! Surely 
 on the lip that utters a curse against his father must come the 
 curse of the Father of all ! By the law of Moses the offence 
 was death, -t and although the provisions of the criminal law 
 of the Jews are not, in all their peculiarities, binding on 
 other peoples, yet, as given by God, they show us His mind 
 as to the evil to which the punishment was annexed. The 
 divine displeasure is here expressed by a remarkably signifi- 
 
 * Chap. xix. 26. t Exod. xxi. 17: Lev. xx. 9.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 1521. 361 
 
 cant figure : " It-is lamp shall be put out in obscure dark- 
 ness." The figure of a "lamp" is sometimes used for a son 
 who preserves a man's name or memory in the world, 
 keeping it up to successive generations.* If we take the 
 figure in this view of it, the meaning here will be, that the 
 name and memory of such a son as is described shall be ex- 
 tinguished and forgotten, as unworthy to be remembered. 
 The punishment would thus correspond with the offence. 
 The figure is also used in connexion with outward pros- 
 perity.^ The meaning, in that case, will be he sliall not 
 prosper ; the curse of God shall rest on him and on his sub- 
 stance, blasting his schemes, frustrating his hopes, and cover- 
 ing him with shame. Perhaps, as death was the punish- 
 ment of the sin by the law, the "lamp" may signify the 
 lamp of life itself. God has doomed him to die : and if he 
 repent not, not only shall the lamp of temporal life be 
 quenched, but the lamp of life eternal shall be quenched in 
 the blackness of darkness for ever ! 
 
 * See 1 Kings xi. 36; xv. 4: Psalm cxxxii. 17. 
 f Prov. xiii. 9: Job xviii. 5, 6.
 
 LECTUEE LXITI. 
 
 PKOV. xx. 2230. 
 
 "Say not thou, I will recompense evil; but wait on the Lord, and he sliiill 
 snve tliee. Divers weights are an abomination unto the Lord ; and a false bal- 
 ance is not good. Man's goings are of the Lord; how can a man then under- 
 stand his own way? It is a snare to the man who devoureth that which is holy, 
 and after vows to make inquiry. A wise king scattered! the wicked, and bring- 
 pth the wheel over them. The spirit of man is the candle of the Lord, searching 
 all the inward parts of the belly. Mercy and truth preserve the king; and his 
 throne is upholden by mercy. The glory of young men is their strength ; and the 
 beauty of old men is the grey head. The blueness of a wound cleanseth away 
 evil; so do stripes the inward part of the belly." 
 
 THE first of these verses is one of those in which there has 
 been imagined a difference, and indeed one of the chief 
 differences, between the teaching of the Old Testament and 
 that of the New. You will find very few persons who have 
 not the idea in their minds that, under the ancient economy, 
 the law of retaliation was allowed to be acted upon, to some 
 extent, while, under the present, it is expressly repealed, in 
 its principle and in its practice. It is only necessary to 
 compare a few passages in the Old Testament and in the 
 Xew, to show that this is an entire misapprehension. 
 Look, for example, to Exod. xxiii. 4, 5 : Lev. xix. 1 8 : 
 Prov. xvii. 13; xxiv. 29: and Eoni. xii. 17 21. It 
 is remarkable, that in this last passage the Apostle both 
 quotes an Old Testament injunction, and enforces it by an 
 Old Testament sentiment or divine assurance.* Surely this 
 
 * For the former see Prov. xxv. 21, 22, and for the latter, Deut. 
 xxxii. 35.
 
 PEOVERBS XX. 2230. 363 
 
 should be enough to satisfy us, that our Lord's language on 
 this subject* was not the laying down of a new law, but only 
 the right interpretation of the old, in opposition to the corrupt 
 glosses of those false teachers among the Jews who perverted 
 the law, as false teachers among professing Christians have 
 perverted the gospel. You must be satisfied, from the passages 
 cited, that "Thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate thine 
 enemy" never was the law of Moses. And with regard to the 
 "eye for an eye and the tooth for a tooth," it formed a part of 
 the judicial or criminal law of the land, of which the adminis- 
 tration was committed to the magistrate ; but it had been per- 
 verted into a toleration of private and personal resentment 
 and retaliation. This interpretation, or misinterpretation, 
 our Lord disowns; and even the strong terms He employs 
 in doing so are to be understood, I apprehend, as ex- 
 pressing no more than what had ahoays been the spirit and 
 proper sense of the divine precepts. The extent to which 
 his words should be interpreted according to the letter, is a 
 point into which it is impossible for us to enter. Their 
 absolutely literal acceptation is, in my opinion, demonstrably 
 inadmissible. It is enough, to show this, to attend to one 
 only of the commands. The injunction "give to every man 
 that asketh of thee" if taken absolutely without restric- 
 tion, forbids the exercise of all discretion on your part, and 
 leaves you entirely at the discretion of such as may choose to 
 present their demand. Whatever it be, you must grant it, 
 even to the half or to the whole of your property. If you 
 say, "That is making the thing ridiculous," I grant it; but 
 it is the literal interpretation, and no more : so that, in say- 
 ing so, you say no more than that that interpretation is ridi- 
 culous: for whenever you introduce any qualification or 
 restriction, you give up the principle of literality. You 
 would bind yourselves, by its adoption, not only to incessant 
 acts of indiscretion, but to many of injustice. 
 
 But I am forgetting the verse before us. It is very true- 
 that retaliation is natural that, in the terms of the poet, 
 
 * Matt. v. 32 45.
 
 364 LECTURE LXIII. 
 
 "revenge is sweet." And there are philosophers who, because 
 they find it a principle in our nature, vindicate it, and affirm 
 it right. But "they do err, not knowing the Scriptures," 
 and not admitting the character there given of our nature as 
 fallen and depraved. It cannot prove a thing to he right 
 that it is natural, when the nature to which it is natural is 
 a corrupt nature. It is true that when one man wrongs 
 another he deserves punishment. But there is divine AVIS- 
 dom in not leaving the right of punishment in the hands of 
 the party injured. There is more than danger, there is next 
 to a certainty, of its being inflicted in excess no man being 
 an impartial judge in his own cause. Excess is, in its turn, 
 injury done. And thus the way is laid open to unceasing 
 retaliation and interminable hostilities. 
 
 "We are very readily tempted to think, that if we take 
 injuries without retaliation, it will only encourage our enemy 
 himself, or others, to repeat the wrong, and to use us the 
 worse. And it is not to be denied that malignity has, at 
 times, taken this advantage of unresenting meekness. If, in 
 our experience, it were in any case to turn out so, we should 
 suffer in the very best company, in company with, our Lord 
 and Master himself But, generally speaking, it is other- 
 wise. A peaceful spirit is the safest spirit, and the spirit 
 which is most likely to meet with a peaceful return, dis- 
 arming hostility, and softening resentment. The terms 
 before quoted show this.* They are founded on the very 
 principle of this tendency. At all events, our sole inquiry 
 in all cases ought simply to be, "What saith the Scripture?" 
 What is Gods will? That it is our duty to do, leaving 
 the result with Him. Such is the spirit of the verse under 
 review. And it is in harmony with other parts of the divine 
 word.f All suffering is for " righteousness' sake," that is 
 produced by our conscientious adherence to the rightly inter- 
 preted injunctions of divine authority. 
 
 We have had the subject of next verse frequently before 
 us, and dwell not upon it : only let it be kept steadily in 
 
 * Rom. xii. 21. f Psal. xxxvii. 58, 34: 1 Pet. iv. 19; iii. 13, 14.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 2230. 365 
 
 view, and exert its intended influence: "Divers weights 
 are an abomination unto the Lord; and a false balance is 
 not good." 
 
 Verse 24. "Man's goings are of the Lord; how can a 
 man then understand his own way 1 ?" It is a truth, that 
 God prescribes the path of duty ; and a truth, connected 
 with this, and arising out of it, that in order to our "un- 
 derstanding the way" in which we ought to go, we should 
 consult God: consult Him in conscience, and in His word 
 the former being the natural intimation of His will, the 
 second the revealed ; and consult Him also under the sought 
 guidance of the Holy Spirit, as through the corruption of 
 the heart, we are in danger of perverting the lessons both 
 of nature and of revelation, and need the accompanying in- 
 fluences of that Spirit, to deliver us from all prejudice and 
 prepossession, from every blinding and perverting passion 
 and tendency. 
 
 But true as this is, it does not appear to be the truth in- 
 tended here. The reference is, apparently, not to the moral 
 will of God, but to his superintending providence. The idea 
 in the former clause of the verse is, that in a man's course 
 through life, every step is under divine control; everything 
 ordered by a supreme will, a will to which all things in 
 existence, every power and influence in creation, are en- 
 tirely subordinate and subservient* the Avill of the Infinite. 
 
 And hence the import of the question, " How can a man 
 understand his own way 1" seems to be how can he form and 
 carry forward his plans, with any assurance of success, or of 
 things turning out in accordance with his wishes and designs ? 
 He cannot. Shortsighted and ever dependent, he is incap- 
 able of laying out bis route through life with any degree what- 
 ever of confidence, so numberless and diversified are the circum- 
 stances by the operation of which his course maybe intercepted, 
 and the necessity of a change imposed. Who has not ex- 
 perienced this 1 ? Before we have advanced a few steps in the 
 direction and for the destination we have fixed for our- 
 
 * See D;\n. iv. 35.
 
 366 LECTURE LXIII. 
 
 selves, something or other occurs that arrests us, and obliges 
 us to desist entirely from our purpose, or to alter and modify 
 it, however reluctantly, to something widely different ! We 
 discover that " our goings are of the Lord," and that we can- 
 not " understand our own way." And if not our own, how 
 much less His ! how often are we made to feel the truth 
 of the words " My thoughts are not your thoughts, nei- 
 ther are your Avays my ways, saith the Lord. For as the 
 heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher 
 than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts ! " Isa. 
 Iv. 8, 9. The latter part of this assurance He will, in the 
 end, make apparent, to the admiring astonishment of His 
 helieving people. Yet, brethren, with the full conviction 
 of this in our judgments, how very hard is it to bring 
 our hearts to any thing like cheerful acquiescence in some of 
 the divine appointments by which our will has been thwart- 
 ed ! If we can get even so far as to say, " Thy will be 
 done ! " it is still with the sigh of a heavily-burdened spirit, 
 and with the tear lingering in our eye. "We "walk in dark- 
 ness and have no light." "We wonder why the Lord thus 
 hedges up our own way, and appoints us another of His, 
 not at all to our mind. And when there is this difference 
 between our way and God's, and a difficulty in seeing what 
 is wrong in ours, it is a strong trial of faith. But faith 
 must have the victory. Wait but for a short while, and all 
 will be plain. Had we the eyes of God, we should, in 
 every case without exception, and without the hesitation of 
 a moment, choose GOD'S way. 
 
 The "ways " of the wicked are abomination to the Lord ; yet 
 they too are under control. They retain all their freedom, 
 and all their guilt; but in ten thousand modes, their baffled 
 plans are made to forward His. Their every word and act He 
 can render subservient to His honour; and often turns their 
 shame to glory, while they are turning His glory to shame. 
 
 Verse 25. " It is a snare to the man who devoureth that 
 which is holy, and after vows to make inquiry." Under the 
 Mosaic dispensation, there were various articles which, by the 
 prescriptions of the law, were consecrated to God, or holy.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 2230. 367 
 
 Such were the tithes, the first-fruits, the firstlings of the herd 
 and of the flock. There was thus always a temptation to 
 selfishness to appropriate a part of these to its own use. 
 There were, at the same time, things voluntarily devoted 
 set apart to Jehovah as free-will offerings. It is to these more 
 especially, in all probability, that Solomon here refers. To 
 " devour that which was holy" was to make a meal for them- 
 selves of that which they had vowed to God, vowed as an 
 offering for His worship : and the phrase clearly, in the 
 principle and spirit of it, applies to the appropriation to them- 
 selves, in any way, of aught whatever that had thus been 
 consecrated.* What, then, is meant by " after vows making 
 inquiry 1 " Evidently, making inquiry how a vow may bt> 
 eluded ; how, with anything like a clear conscience, the ful- 
 filment of it may be shunned, and the consecrated thing with- 
 drawn from God, and appropriated to self A man, for ex- 
 ample, might make a vow when in trouble and straits. He 
 might then devote something of his substance solemnly to 
 God on condition of his recovery. He does recover. But with 
 the cessation of his trouble, his religious impressions, which 
 were the result only of temporary fear, cease too. He calls to 
 mind his vow. He frets at himself for having made it ; and 
 he sets himself to find or to frame pretexts for not regarding it 
 as obligatory, for shaking himself free of it. That this is 
 the kind of inquiry that is intended in the verse, is sufficiently 
 evident from the parallelism of the one part of it with the 
 other. It is clear, that the " snare, " in the former part of the 
 verse means the temptation, in order to "devouring that 
 which is holy," to " make inquiry " after pretexts for getting 
 rid of the vow by which it was made holy. 
 
 The words have frequently been most strangely and mis- 
 chievously perverted. They have been made to mean, that, 
 when a man had once vowed, whether the vow was right or 
 wrong, or whatever might be his subsequent conscientious 
 convictions concerning it, he must abide by it; that in 
 every case of vow, it was wrong even to think of " making 
 
 * Conip. Mai. iii. 810.
 
 368 LECTUEE LXIII. 
 
 inquiry " as to the rectitude of what had been vowed. For 
 example, it used to be applied (happily, in the progress of 
 free and enlightened thought, such application will not often be 
 found now,) to what were termed ordination cows. By taking 
 these, a man was understood as binding himself to maintain 
 the same sentiments to the end of his life; and if he ever 
 gave expression to any views inconsistent with those he had 
 vowed solemnly to maintain and defend, he was charged with 
 the sin of " after vows making inquiry ! " This, you will ad- 
 mit, was indeed "a snare" a snare to the conscience, a snare 
 to the soul To take any such vow would be to bind one's 
 self to one or other of two things, of which it is not easy to 
 say, they are both so bad, wliich is the worse; either, first, 
 to the cessation of all further inquiry after truth on the 
 point which has been the subject of the vow, which is 
 neither more nor less than asserting, on that point, the claim 
 to infallibility; or secondly, to hypocrisy and simulation, by 
 the continued profession of the same thing, whatever change 
 might actually have taken place in one's opinions and belief. 
 Such an understanding of the words is in opposition to the 
 duty, incumbent on every man, of constant investigation, and 
 of constant openness to conviction, freedom from prejudice, 
 and readiness to relinquish error when shown to be error, 
 and embrace truth when shown to be truth. Many a con- 
 science has been snared, and snared long, in this way. It is 
 well, when the snare is broken, and the conscience escapes. 
 Vov:s are solemn promises or engagements, come under to 
 God, generally accompanied with an oath or imprecation, 
 formally expressed or tacitly understood, of some service to 
 be performed, or some sacrifice to be offered, or some por- 
 tion of worldly goods to be devoted to God, for religious 
 purposes. Such vows it was duty to fulfil. " When thou 
 v i west a vow unto God, defer not to pay it; for he hath 
 no pleasure in fools; pay that which thou hast vowed," 
 Eccl. v. 4. The vow of a fool (like the sacrifice of the 
 fool in the first verse) was a A'OW made idthout the 
 Itwt without intention and resolution to pay it. God 
 " has no pleasure in such fools " fools who think to impose
 
 PROVERBS XX. 22-30. 3y 
 
 upon Him by false promises, and insult Him with hypocri- 
 tical mockery. What is vowed must be paid : " Better is 
 it that thou shouldst not vow, than that thou shouldst vow 
 and not pay," (verse 5.) The reason of this is plain. The 
 vow was not required: it was spontaneous: so that there 
 was no sin in not making it ; but there was sin in making 
 and not paying it. 
 
 The phrase, then, "after vows to make inquiry," is con- 
 demnatory of two evils. It condemns vowing rashly, with- 
 out due previous consideration or inquiry. To make inquiry 
 after a vow is not to make inquiry before it. It is clear 
 that the proper place for inquiry is before the taking of the 
 vow. It should precede, not follow. A man should ex- 
 amine his ground ; think what he is doing ; act with due 
 deliberation. It further condemns what has already been 
 mentioned inquiring, after the vow has been made, how it 
 may be evaded; and that, not from any conviction of the 
 evil of the thing vowed, but merely from a selfish unwilling- 
 ness to fulfil it. It is obvious, at the same time, that no 
 vow, how solemnly soever taken, can ever render that morally 
 right which is morally wrong; can ever, that is, set aside 
 the obligation of the divine law. That is an authority which 
 must ever stand above the obligation of any vow. The 
 first inquiry should have reference to this. If a man finds 
 that he has vowed to do what the law of God forbids, his 
 guilt has lain in taking such a vow; but it never can be 
 his duty to keep it. His promise to do wrong, can never 
 cancel his previous obligation not to do it. 
 
 It is questionable, whether vows, properly so called, are 
 consistent with the genius of the New Testament dispensa- 
 tion. At any rate, of such vow- 88 \'.<TC common under tin; 
 Old, we have no recorded examples under the New. 1\< Dilu- 
 tions to serve God we may, nay we must make; then; is nv> 
 getting on in the divine life and' in the zealous promotion of 
 the divine glory, without them. But the binding of the soul 
 by particular bonds and oaths, whether verbal or written, 
 obligations superinduced upon those of the divine law, have 
 been "a snare" to many. Weak minds have often felt the 
 
 II. 2 A
 
 370 LECTURE LXI1I. 
 
 obligation of their vow more stringent than that of the divine 
 authority. We do, it is true, find Paul vowing; but his 
 vow belonged not to the Christian dispensation, but to the 
 Jewish, which had not finally " vanished away," and to which 
 he continued for the time to conform. All the vows of celi- 
 bacy, of pilgrimages, of pious gifts ; all the vows supposed to 
 be taken at baptism and the Lord's supper according to the 
 superstitious notions attached by many to these ordinances ; 
 all vows of personal, and national, and ecclesiastical cove- 
 nanting ; and all vows at ministerial ordination, (and 
 it may be worth the while of some of our total-abstainers 
 to consider, whether vows of abstinence, ivhen taken under 
 any pledge or form of a religious character, may not also be 
 included,) appear to be alike destitute of New Testament 
 warrant. But still, we have here the great general lesson of 
 
 FIDELITY TO GOD. 
 
 Verse 26. " A wise king scattereth the wicked, and bring - 
 eth the wheel over them." There is here an allusion to the 
 different modes of separating the grain from the husk 
 or hull ; by one or more of which the straw was at the 
 same time cut.* The different methods were the flail, the 
 drag, the wain, the treading of oxen. It is to the third, that 
 the allusion is here made. The wheel was armed with teeth : 
 by means of which the cutting of the straw was effected at 
 the same time with the separation of the grain. The idea 
 intended by the figure seems to be that of severity of punish- 
 ment, and the separation of the wicked from society. Not, 
 by any means, that excessive and indiscriminate severity of 
 punishment is the most effective system for the prevention 
 and suppression of crime. A wise king, acting on the prin- 
 ciples of human nature, and the lessons of experience, will 
 rather adopt the system of a well-adjusted graduation in the 
 scale of punishments; according to which they are, on the 
 principle of comparative lenity, proportioned to the nature and 
 aggravations of various crimes, and regularly executed, in 
 preference to that which professes to hold the terrors of death 
 
 * Sec Isa. xxviii. 23.
 
 PKOVEUBS XX. 2230. 371 
 
 over many crimes, l>ut without the intention of uniform exe- 
 cution. The former system has been found the most dl'cctual ; 
 and it is evidently the most accordant with all right principle 
 and right feeling. There has happily been, of late years, a 
 great and salutary mitigation in the sanguinary character of 
 the criminal law of our own country. The consequence of 
 that sanguinary character naturally was, that from unwilling- 
 ness to prosecute, the unwillingness of witnesses to give un- 
 favourable evidence, the unwillingness of juries to find a 
 verdict cf guilty, and the unwillingness of judges to condemn, 
 and of the prince to allow the law to take its course, multi- 
 tudes never came to trial ; and of those who were tried many 
 escaped conviction ; and of such as were sentenced to die not 
 one in twenty came to execution. All this encouraged rather 
 than repressed crime, by inspiring the hope of impunity, the 
 expectations of most men being naturally sanguine and 
 nattering in their own case. The subject, however, is toe 
 extensive for general discussion. 
 
 Let us only remember, that the duty of the king implies 
 a corresponding duty on our part to give the government of 
 the country all the countenance and support in our power in 
 effecting the suppression of " wickedness," by all legal and 
 constitutional means ; and still more, by all religious and 
 moral means so to diffuse the influence of right principles ai- 
 to lessen the task of government in the application of penal 
 statutes; to prevent the IJUH! aliment of wickedness by pre- 
 venting the practice of it. 
 
 Verse 27. "The spirit of man is the candle of the Lord, 
 searching all the inward parts of the belly." When God 
 at first "made man of the dust of the earth," what would 
 his corporeal structure have been, how admirably soever 
 framed together, in all its beautiful proportions and intri- 
 cate complexity, had not the breath of life been bn-alhi-d 
 into it, and had it not been associated with the dominion 
 of mind! When man "became a living soul," then; w;i* 
 more imparted to him than mere animal life, even a rutiot : .i! 
 thinking SPIRIT, conscious of its own existence, and exerting 
 powers which made its existence apparent to others. " The
 
 372 LECTURE LXIII. 
 
 spirit of man," moans his understanding, reason, conscience; 
 and is hero designated " tlie candle of the Lord " the lamp of 
 Jehovah. God lias lighted it in the human breast. It is His 
 gift. He it is who, in this respect, has made us to differ 
 from the animals of the inferior creation that are placed under 
 our subjection. He hath made us " wiser than the beasts of 
 the field, and hath given us more understanding than, the 
 fowls of the air." Of this lamp the use is here said to be 
 to " search all the inward parts of the belly." 
 
 We have formerly had occasion, to notice that " the, Idly " is 
 used to signify the invisible interior of man, and thus compre- 
 hends his whole mental constitution. We are so accustomed 
 to the use of other parts of the animal frame for particular 
 departments of the operations of mind, that we use the lan- 
 guage often with hardly a thought of what is material. Thus 
 we speak of the heart, when we mean the affections; of the 
 bowels, when Ave mean the emotions of compassion or tender- 
 ness ; of the spleen, when we mean capricious ill-nature. It 
 i- on a similar principle that, in a more general way, the 
 Hebrews used "the belly" for all within: and "searching the 
 inward parts of the belly " means simply searching the 
 whole inner man. It examines narrowly all our inward 
 principles, desires, and affections, the motives by which we 
 are influenced, our reflections on the past, our purposes and 
 : solutions for the future. In the original constitution of 
 our nature in its " first estate," in the purity in which it 
 came from the Creator's forming hand, there was nothing to 
 be discovered by all this " searching " but good. All was 
 rectitude, loveliness, beauty, moral symmetry and perfection. 
 Now alas ! it is far otherwise. It is only when " the lamp " is 
 not used, or used with unfaithf id and superficial carelessness, 
 that evil remains undetected. The more closely we carry the 
 light into the hidden chambers of the heart, the greater will 
 be the variety and amount we shall discover of what ought 
 not to be there. It is an extraordinary conception which 
 some persons have had of solf-examination, when they have 
 looked upon it Avith jealousy and dread, and been apprehen- 
 sive of its exercise in themselves, and of urging it upon
 
 PROVERBS XX. 22-30. 373 
 
 others, as only calculated to encourage self-righteousness. 
 One cannot but suspect that they who think thus must them- 
 selves be the subjects of no small portion of the spirit of 
 self-righteousness, when they fancy, that by too closely scru- 
 tinizing their hearts and lives, they would find only what wa.s 
 fitted to cherish it i Surely every converted man must be 
 sensible, that the more faithfully he uses the " lamp of the 
 Lord " in " searching his inward parts," the deeper will /.be- 
 come his self-abasement. The more he will know of himself: 
 and if the more he knows of himself, the more he thirfts of 
 himself- that is, if his self-examination puff him up with .-('Li- 
 righteous pride, we may be sure the process has been con- 
 ducted on a wrong principle, With every .genuine child of 
 God the exercise will only serve to 
 zv&T 
 
 " L iy him low, and keep him there." 
 
 It is too true, that the dictates of conscience, like the opera- 
 tions of all the other powers and faculties of the mind, have 
 become perverted by sin. Its decisions are influenced by 
 corrupt inclinations and passions. It is thus too often a 
 bribed witness, giving false testimony; a corrupted judge, 
 pronouncing partial and erroneous decisions and verdicts. 
 Yet, in such cases, the decisions are frequently not those 
 of conscience at all. There is many a time, at the very 
 moment when they are given, a secret consciousness of 
 their being wrong : so that as regards the real dictates of 
 the inward monitor there is probably a more general har- 
 mony among the various tribes and classes of mankind, than 
 at first glance might appear. 
 
 It is of immense consequence, that v,v ki-cp this " lamp '' of 
 reason and conscience duly trimmed, and burning clearly ; 
 and that we be duly faithful in the use of it ; for what is 
 the worth of a light if it be not applied to use, for the ends 
 it is designed to answer? We should be ever using it ; 
 carrying it into the most secret recesses of our souls, detecting 
 and rectifying all that is wrong, cleaning out every corner 
 of defilement, keeping all in due order. It is thus that> liko
 
 374 LECTURE LXIII. 
 
 Paul, we should "exercise ourselves to have always a con- 
 science void of offence toward God, and toward men." 
 
 The ungodly follow the very opposite course. They do 
 all in their power to dim the lamp. Trimming and supply- 
 ing it with oil, is one of the last things they ever think of. 
 If it will burn, they try to " put it under a bushel" They 
 do not like to be disturbed by it. What says our Lord? 
 he who "knew what was in man?" "Every one that doeth 
 evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his 
 deeds should be reproved." And this holds true with re- 
 gard to every light, with regard to " 'whatsoever doth make 
 manifest" which is the apostle's definition of light. It is 
 equally true of the light of conscience, and of the Light of 
 revelation. 
 
 Verse 28. "Mercy and truth preserve the king; and his 
 throne is upholden by mercy." This of course is to be un- 
 derstood as expressing what ought to be. It is the character 
 of the good prince. Well had it been for the world, had the 
 description been true of all rulers. how different had been 
 the character of the history of nations ! The union of mercy 
 and truth is perfect in the government of God ; and in the 
 mediatorial government of the Lord Jesus Christ.* The 
 union of both is necessary. Mercy without truth, or faithful 
 principle, would be undiscriminating lenity a pernicious 
 facility of disposition; and truth without mercy, the stern 
 and rigid exercise of justice untempered by clemency, would 
 be unlovely and repulsive, and as injurious in. the one ex- 
 treme as the former in the other. It has been said, " A God 
 all mercy, is a God unjust." The same is, in its measure, 
 true, of all inferior rulers. " A king all mercy, is a king 
 unjust." 
 
 The verse before us may be compared with chap. xvi. 12. 
 " It is an abomination to kings to commit wickedness : for 
 the throne is established by righteousness." The sentiment 
 of each is alike true. Ko throne can stand, firmly that is not 
 based alike on "righteousness" and "mercy." The mercy 
 
 * Psa. Ixxxv. 10.
 
 PROVERBS XX. 22-30. 
 
 must be righteous mercy; the righteousness, merciful righte- 
 ousness: justice must be attempt-red by clemency; clemency 
 must be restrained by justice. Every prince who desi 
 have the character of a Father of Ms people, must be merciful. 
 What would a father be without mercy] But, at the same 
 time, a father requires to be firm and impartial Parental 
 authority, that yields to every impulse of feeling, and is in- 
 capable of steadfast and determined discipline, is as injurious 
 as the other. The throne of a tyrant may be maintained in 
 temporary stability by the force of terror, by the dread of 
 civil or military execution. He may surround his throne 
 with the uij'rmidons of his power. He may prolong his 
 reign by fear. But after all, his is power that hangs upon a 
 breath. All tremble to give expression to the feeling which 
 yet universally prevails the feeling of discontent of alien- 
 ation of rebellion : but a word once uttered is responded 
 to from every corner of the land; the spell is broken; every 
 eye flashes the long-suppressed resentment; every lip quivers 
 in giving vent to the pent-up murmurings; man, woman, 
 and child, are on the alert; hands are joined; conspiracies 
 aje formed; weapons are brandished; the tyrant is hurled 
 from his throne. ! how different when the throne has its 
 foundation in the affections of its happy subjects! Tit at is 
 its best and surest establishment. "When the prince is true 
 to his word; redeeming his pledges; fulfilling his engage- 
 ments; and "doing nothing by partiality;" when, instead 
 of regarding and treating with lightness and neglect the suf- 
 ferings of liis subjects, when evil times come over them, he 
 discovers the spirit of sympathy, and does what lies in his 
 power for their help ; promoting^ such measures as have a 
 tendency to relieve them, and to restore them to indepen- 
 dence and comfort, to peace, and plenty. 
 
 Verse 29. "The glory of young men is their strength; 
 and the beauty of old men is the grey head." Each of the 
 clauses of this verse requires to be taken with a qualification. 
 On either side, "the glory may be turned into shame." 
 The vigour of youth may be prostituted ; it may be expended 
 in oppression, intimidation, and violence, in vice and licen-
 
 376 LKCTL'KE LXIII. 
 
 tiousness, in cruelty, and crime. ! it is sad indeed when 
 the energies of body and mind are thus perverted and 
 abused, instead of being consecrated to God and to virtue ! 
 And, if possible, sadder is the melancholy spectacle still, of 
 old age, with its crown of grey hairs, cleaving fast to the 
 world, and spending the feeble remnants of its declining 
 strength in the service of sinful pleasure. Ah! tnc//, there 
 is neither glory in the vigour of youth, nor beauty in the 
 hoary head. All depends on association. Young men may 
 glory in their strength; they may emulate each other in 
 feats of physical power, and exult in the prize of successful 
 competition: but when moral and spiritual glory is want- 
 ing, of what worth is mere muscle mere brute force I If 
 that strength is given to vice, it becomes, not the youth's 
 honour, but his disgrace, in the eyes of all the truly wise. 
 And old men may glory in their age. When they come 
 to surpass by many years those who set out with them in 
 the journey of life; when "by reason of" constitutional 
 " strength," they have reached the " fourscore years," or gone 
 considerably beyond even this ultimate limit, they are apt 
 to be vain of it; to repeat it often; to dwell upon it as 
 their distinction : but here too, the glory is no glory, unless 
 there be corresponding character, unless there be growing 
 meetness for that eternal world to the verge of which the old 
 man has come. Instead of attractive beauty and loveliness, 
 there are few things more affectingly and distressingly re- 
 pulsi ve than dissolute and irreligious old age. We do natur- 
 ally admire the comeliness, and the manly port, and the 
 muscular energy, and the well -proportioned symmetry, of 
 the youthful form ; and we_ do naturally look with affection- 
 ate veneration on the whitening locks of reverend age. 1 >ut 
 our sentiments and feelings entirely change, and experience 
 a painful revulsion, when we learn that the youth whose ex- 
 ternal appearance has charmed our eye, is unnatural to Ins 
 parents and licentiously dissolute, and that the old man 
 whose grey hairs drew our reverential love has only ceased 
 to be practically dissolute from the cessation of power that 
 his heart Ls as estranged as ever from all that is good, that
 
 PROYEKBS XX. i'2-30. 
 
 the hoary head is not in the way of righteousness, and that 
 he is dying as he lived, in infidel unsubinissiventss to ' 
 
 Let us see to it, my friends, that we consecrate to II in 
 the peculiar glories of our frame in the successive periods of 
 life; that we inscribe "holiness unto the Lord" on tin- 
 strength of youth, and on the experience and the inl! 
 of age. It is indeed lovely to see the full energies of youth 
 early consecrated to God, and put forth in His service; that 
 service faithfully maintained through a long life ; and then {hat 
 life, when venerable in the hoariness of years, closing with the 
 words of the old and devout Simeon " Lord, now I 
 thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: for 
 mine eyes have seen thy salvation;" while that Lord pro- 
 nounces the approving welcome" ^^ ^ ell . done, goo-! 
 faithful .servant ! " and bestows the final and full reward. I > 
 my beloved young friends, seek ye, with your whole 1 
 this glory of youth, this beauty and reverence of age. 
 
 Verse 30. "The blueness of a wound cleanseth away 
 evil ; so do stripes the inward parts of the belly." It is not 
 easy to attach a definite meaning to these words. Su; 
 with some, the blueness of a wound to be a symptom of its 
 healing what comparison can there be between a mere 
 symptom or indication of healing and the severity of 
 tisement or discipline! Suppose, with others, the blv.eness 
 or licidness of the wound to be the effect or mark of r 
 verity; then, properly speaking, there can hardly be a com- 
 parison between the effects, whatever they are conceiv 
 be, of severe wounds and severe stripes, they Dearly 
 
 one and the same thing. I know- not indi-ed hov 
 original word came to be rendered " II aw**" The one word 
 as well as the other is given in lex?. rnifying, among 
 
 other meanings, a icound. But " Me <<///?/ /* of a t>- 
 would of course be inadmissible. The .following translation 
 has been giA^en by one critic of eminence "Tht- 
 contusions, of a blow are a cleanser to i 
 stripes cleanse the inward parts of the belly." Ikit I 
 liable to the same objection with the ln?t nienti 
 namely, that the two things in the comparison an-
 
 378 LECTURE LXIII. 
 
 the same : for what difference is there between the con- 
 tusions of a blow cleansing the wicket, and "stripes cleans- 
 ing the inward parts of the belly?" The idea in either case 
 is almost if not altogether uh'iiti'.-aL It is not often that I 
 propose alterations on our own translation. I am far from 
 approving of the freedom and frequency with which some 
 alter renderings; of'tener for the worse than for the bet- 
 ter.* In the present instance, however, I venture to sug- 
 gest the following, as probably giving the true spirit of the 
 comparison : " Surely the compressions of a wound cleanse 
 a\vay evil; and so do stripes the inward parts of the belly." 
 This is in harmony with the radical meaning of the term ; 
 being, etymologically, from the verb wliich denotes to join 
 or couple together; and at the same time it yields an appro- 
 priate sense. The compressions of a wound are necessary 
 for cleansing out of it the purulent and peccant humour, 
 which would prevent its healing; they are, at the same 
 time, in many cases, exceedingly painful, and would only be 
 endured or inflicted from necessity. And as they thus clean 
 the wound, and promote its healing, so in. a moral sense, does 
 the severity of discipline affect with salutary and cleansing 
 influence, the condition of the inner man. This is the very 
 design of the rod, the parental rod: "Folly is bound up 
 iu the heart of a child; but the rod of correction shall drive 
 it far from him." And it is the gracious design of all 
 God's corrections. He never uses the rod, never inilir.ts 
 any stroke of discipline, not a single stripe, save fur the 
 kind purpose of benefiting the soul, of repressing evil and 
 confirming and augmenting good The design of all His 
 afflictive visitations is " TO TAKE AWAY SIN." 
 
 * Stnart renders, "Wounding stripes are the remedy of the base; 
 nnd stripes of the inner fart of the body;" and explains ''The baa 
 man's remedial applications are stripes over the whole person, so se- 
 vere that they penetrate deep into the bodv." Here any tiling like 
 antithesis is gone, and the two clauses of the verse are counterparts of 
 each other.
 
 .Ill 
 -noo aifj 
 
 L K G 1 U It TJ L X I V . 
 
 "* :.<[moo 
 
 Puov. xxi. 1 8. 
 
 ._,.,. . . , , 
 ' Ttie king s heart is in the hand of the Lord, as the rivers of water: he turn- 
 
 vth it whithersoever he will. Every way of a man is right in his own eyes : but 
 tiie Lord pondereth the hearts. To do justice and judgment is more acceptable 
 to the Lord than sacrifice. An high look, and a proud heart, and the plowing 
 of the wicked, is sin. The thoughts of the diligent tend only to plenteousness; 
 but of every one that is hasty only to want. The getting of treasures by a lying 
 tongue is a vanity tossed to and fro of them that seek death. The robbery of 
 the wicked shall destroy them; because they refuse to do judgment. The way 
 of man is froward and strange : but as for the pure, his work is right." 
 
 IN the first of these verses some suppose there is an allu- 
 sion to a gardener, directing the rills of water through the, 
 different parts of his grounds; and that a comparison is in- 
 tended between the ease with which the gardener does this, 
 and the ease and certainty with which God superintends 
 human volitions and purposes, so as to make all subservient. 
 to the attainment of His own ends. J!ut the comparison ap- 
 pears, in both its parts, to relate direct!)' to God. The 
 king's heart is represented as "in the hand" that is, in the 
 power, and under the control of Jehovah, as completely as 
 are " the rivers of water."* And so are all. "hearts" all 
 the purposes and determinations of men. This, I repeat, 
 is one of those truths to which we are, <i priori, constrained 
 to assent. Whatever may bo the diiliculties with which, in 
 some respects, the subject is environed, we perceive, with 
 
 * Comp. chap. xvi. 1,9; xx. 24.
 
 380 2-lEfcTUKE LX1V. 
 
 a kind of intuition, and admit without an instant's hesitation, 
 that it mi'.- The certainty of the divine counsels re- 
 
 quires it. The regular adniinist ration of the government of 
 the world requires it. Every vk-w we can take of the divine 
 glory requires it. oS'evfr can it be that the mil of man 
 should frustrate the will of God the thoughts of the 
 creature cross and interfere with those of the Creator. Hu- 
 man counsels may thwart human counsels; but it is the 
 divine prerogative, amidst all the incessantly changing and 
 conflicting volitions and actions of the millions of the 
 world's population, to say " My counsel shall stand, and I 
 will do all my pleasure." 
 
 And while of this we affirm that it must be so, there is 
 another thing of which, with equal confidence, we affirm the 
 same, namely, that men, in their volitions and actions, 
 muat be free, and, as free, must be accountable; the freedom 
 being necessary to the accountablcness. That men are in- 
 variably influenced by motive.-?, no more affects the reality of 
 their freedom, than God's having reasons for every step of 
 His procedure affects His. Every man is conscious of willing 
 and acting freely. Both the portions must be alike true, 
 whether u'e be able clearly to explain the principle of harmony 
 between them, or not. Yet the principle, to a certain extent, 
 is sufficiently intelligible. A man of uncommon penetration, 
 supposing him to know the peculiarities of any character, 
 the circumstances in which its possessor is placed, and 
 the manner in which the circumstances are calculated to 
 affect his characteristic peculiarities, would be able to say, 
 with a proportional degree of confidence, how he would 
 act, what course he would pursue, when under the influence 
 of the given circumstances. Yet his knowledge and pene- 
 tration would not, in the remotest degree, affect the freedom 
 of him whose conduct he predicted. We have only to ima- 
 gine this acquaintance with circumstances, with characters, 
 and with the influence of the one upon the other, extended 
 to infinitude and infallibility, and we have some notion of 
 the way in which, by the control of circumstances, God can 
 control volitions; and that, without at all interfering with
 
 PROVERBS XXL 1-8. 
 
 liberty and accouutableness. This, however, is stil 
 Jievi-r cease to be, one of " the deep tilings of God." 
 
 " The Lord reigneth," says the Psalmist, " let the earth re- 
 joice!" "We have cause for joy in the assurance here given 
 us, that those members of our race, who, from their eminence 
 and power, exert the greatest amount of influence over the con- 
 dition of the world, are, as completely as the meanest, under 
 the superintendence and control of the Supreme ; so that even 
 "kings," bet-he extent of their dominion and the absoluteness 
 of their power what it may, can never go beyond His permis- 
 sion. Let the conviction of this gfteat truth, in all its com- 
 prehensiveness, preserve our minds from the agitating fears 
 and apprehensions which might arise from the plans and 
 avowed purposes of the monarchs of the earth, as affecting 
 the interests of our country, of the church, and of the world 
 All will be overruled for ends in harmony with divin 
 dom and mercy. " HAVE FAITH ix GOD." 
 
 Verse 2. " Every way of a man is right in his own eyes ; 
 but the Lord pondereth the hearts." There may be a con- 
 nexion between this and the former verse. It is not by 
 the actual -results of human actions, results which God, 
 by his overruling providence, may be plea&'d to bring out 
 of them, but by their prlmlphs and mot iff* in the doing 
 of them, that the agents Avill be tried. Thi* will be the 
 test; and it will ever be a most satisfactory, though deeply 
 mysterious exemplification of the truth, that it was by an 
 act the most heinous in the entire annals of mankind, that 
 the redemption of the world was eli'ected. The design nf 
 the proverb is, that men, remembering this, may b- j< almis 
 of themselves, and not take the rectitude of their way !>(. 
 easily for granted, but examine their hearts, search their 
 motives, as in God's sight and in prosj^ct of that day wh,-n 
 "He will bring every work into judgment, with every 
 thing." A man's WAY is right in the eye of God j 1 
 proportion as his HEART is right. 
 
 Verse 3. "To do justice and judgment is more acceptable 
 
 * See chap. xvi. 2-
 
 332 LECTURE LXIV. 
 
 to the Lord than sacrifice." This is a most important sen- 
 timent, and one frequently to be found in the Old Testa- 
 ment. Look at a few examples: 1 Sam. xv. 22; Isa. i. 
 11 15 ; i x vi. 3, 4 ; Jer. vii. 21 23; Hos. vi. 6; Mic. vi. 
 G g. Such passages are in full harmony with the senti- 
 ment so distinctly sanctioned by the approbation of Christ, 
 " There is one God, and to love Him with all the heart, 
 and with all the understanding, and with all the soul, and 
 with all the strength, and to love his neighbour as him- 
 self, is more than all whole burnt-offerings and sacrifices," 
 Mark xii. 33. It wotfld be an obvious misunderstanding 
 and abuse of such expressions, were they to be interpreted 
 as setting aside sacrifice under the former dispensation, or 
 even making light of it, as a thing about which Jeho- 
 vah was indifferent, and which He could allow to be ne- 
 glected with impunity. The sacrifices were of divine insti- 
 tution. The cases were specified in which they were required 
 to be offered ; and all their varieties were prescribed. It was 
 duty, therefore, scrupulously to adhere to divine injunction. 
 The language is comparative. There was a danger among 
 the Jewish people of being satisfied Avith a strict and punc- 
 tilious performance of every part of the outward ceremonial 
 of worship, and of making a kind of compromise in this way 
 for the neglect of moral duties, or the practice of what was 
 morally wrong. This propensity, which existed all along, 
 evinced itself in its full strength in our blessed Lord's time ; 
 and He sets theprwicy;Ze of the thing in its obviously correct 
 position, in reprimanding those by whom it was most cul- 
 pably exemplified,'' "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, 
 hypocrites ! for ye pay tithe of mint, and anise, and cummin, 
 and have omitted the weightier matters of the law, judg- 
 ment, mercy, and faith : these ought ye to have done, and 
 not to leave the other undone," Matt, xxiii. 23. "Judg- 
 ment, mercy, and fidelity " were the "weightier matters of 
 the law." They were, therefore, to be first regarded, 
 thing could set them aside ; nothing be a compensation for 
 their omission. Might the others, then, be ^regarded! 
 J>y no means: not even the smallest of them, the tithing
 
 PROVERBS XXI. 18. 3W 
 
 of garden herbs. Are Christ's words words of contempt And 
 ridicule at their attending to matters of such indifference, 
 things that might be done or not done at their pleasure ] JS\. 
 verily. These things, though not first, had yet their own 
 place; and no on'/ could he too rigidly scrupulous in attend- 
 ing to them, however minute, as parts of the divine will 
 The fault of those reprored lay, not in their doing these, but 
 in their neglecting to do the more important and necessary: 
 " These ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other 
 undone!' 
 
 ^iiMy brethren the danger is not at an end. Them migla 
 be a larger amount of it under an economy Avhich w 
 characteristically one of external and typical rites; and les 
 under a dispensation of which the leading character, con- 
 trasting it with the former, is its xpiritmiliiti. But still there 
 are- outward observances in religion, -all the exteifrali$j#b$i 
 divine institutions and worship. Let us, then, he upo . 
 guardJ Let us not forget the primary necessity, if we would 
 maintain a course well-pleasing to God, of the m-urvl 4- <'//<//>-, 
 All that is said of their superiority in His sight to " 
 irf equally true of whahitr -i.< , To the heart and 
 
 the life He still looks: and the professing (Jh: 
 wh trusts in his baptism, in his punctual presence in the 
 house of God, in his regular attendance on the table of 
 the Lord, is as far wrong in jirt'm-fjJa, as the J< w wa*, 
 who trusted in his burnt-offerings and sacrifices, lus c.;remo- 
 nial cleansings, Ms tithes and fastings, while the 
 mount obligations of practical godliness wqre neglected by 
 the one and are neglected by the other. They ui-.; in tin- 
 same condemnation. " Sacrifices" of old were instituted 
 for special purposes. They were, arbitrary, ceremonial, typi- 
 cal, temporary; but "justice and judgment" belonged to tin- 
 eternal rule of right. They had their origin and prototype 
 in the moral nature of God. The}- were immutable ii. 
 obligation, "the sam- yot-r-lay, and to-day, and f-T 
 
 Liiees" were instituted for a single p.-npl.: ; ". justice anil 
 judgment" belong to mankind, and are alike obligatory ")i th 
 whole race, in every nation under heaven. "JSacrilices" !
 
 all their value from that winch they prefigured, and from the 
 
 worshipper's state of heart in. presenting them, from what 
 signified in themselves and what they indicated in the 
 offerer; "justice and judgment" have, in thuir own nature, 
 an intrinsic excellence, and, forming part of the image ot 
 are the objects of His direct complacency and delight. The 
 law of "sacrifice" was set aside when the system to which it 
 belon 
 
 very 
 
 manorial work was to vindicate eternal righteousness the 
 if the divine character in the extension of 
 mercy {> man ; and at the same time to give glory and sta- 
 bility to that law wliich is "holy, and just, and good," ami 
 furnish new and mightily constraining motives of obedie: 
 to all its prece] 
 
 There is ONE SACRIFICE, my hearers, on which the God of 
 the Bible teaches, invites, encourages, commands you to rest 
 your hopes of pardon and acceptance with Him, THE SACRI- 
 FICE OF CHRIST; the all- atoning blood of the "Lamb of 
 i . >d, which taketh away the sin of the world." In this is 
 only security; and it is an equal security for ALL. God's 
 first commandment to you, a. . is to renounce self, and 
 
 t > 1iwt fJicrc, in that OXE OFFERING from their reference to 
 which all previous offerings derived their wisdom and their 
 w::>rth; and then, your "doing justice and judgment" must 
 bo the proof of your interest in that one offering, and of 
 your heart having been turned to God by the faith of it.* 
 
 "Verse 4. "An high look, and a proud heart, and 4he 
 plowing of the wicked, is sin." The first of these is the 
 natural expression or indication of the second; the " high 
 look," or, as on the margin and in the Hebrew, " haughti- 
 the effect and expression of the " proud heart." 
 With regard to these there is no difficult}*". That pride, and 
 all the expressions and indications o pride, are hateful to 
 God, is a sentiment often repeated, t But how comes in 
 
 * Iiom. viii. 1. f See chap. vi. 16. 17. &c. 
 
 1
 
 PROVERBS XXI. 1-8. 3 35 
 
 "the pJ&iring of tli.e wicked" in this connexion?! woul.l 
 answer, tliat even retaining the translation, it is not in- 
 capable of an appropriate sense. The ordinary occupa- 
 tions of the wicked are gone about and pursued with " a 
 high look and a proud heart ; " not with the lowly spirit 
 of dependence and prayer, but with the spirit of indepen- 
 dent self-sufficiency and prayerless haughtiness. The things 
 done, how good and useful soever in themselves, may be 
 vitiated by the S2)irit in which they are done. Eight in 
 themselves, they may be wrong in their principle. And 
 this view of the case might be connected with the previous 
 verse. "The wicked" may bring his "sacrifice;" but if he 
 brings it with "a high look and a proud heart," r - f1i; "" 
 
 can be more unacceptable in the eyes of that God to whom 
 he offers it. Thus both his religious and his ordinary acts 
 are marred by his state of mind. There is "sin" in them all. 
 The sentiment has an apt illustration in the case of Cain. 
 He was " a tiller of the ground." He brought his offering 
 to God : but it was not the offering of a sinner ; it was not 
 the type of atonement. The absence of this arose from his 
 not being humbled before God as a sinner should be. And 
 what he did bring, he brought with a "high look and a 
 proud heart." Thus "the plowing" of this first "tiller of 
 the ground" was "sin" and his offering too. So, on the 
 same account, is that of every wicked man. 
 
 You will observe, however, that the rendering on the mar- 
 gin is " the light of the wicked." Now the marginal ren- 
 derings have precisely the same authority with those in the 
 text : and they are, not unfrequently, much to be preferred, 
 I am satisfied this is the case in the present, instance. The 
 word for a light or lam}), and the word for a plough and 
 ploughing, are, in the original, Wee each other; but I am not 
 aware of any instance in which the word, when it signifies 
 ploughing, occurs in precisely the same form as here. More- 
 over, in the Septuagint Greek, the Latin Vulgate, and the 
 Genevese French,* it is, in this occurrence, rendered as in 
 
 * Also in the German of Lutlier. 
 II. 2 B
 
 336 LECTURE LXIV. 
 
 our English margin ; and the rendering has the sanction of 
 most eminent critics and commentators. A light, or lamp, is 
 often put as the symbol of prosperity. The verse is re- 
 markably laconic " Loftiness of eyes, pride of heart, the light 
 of the wicked, sin." The meaning seems to be, that in the 
 prosperity of the wicked, his light, his joy, " there is sin." 
 There is sin in it, because there is self in it no humble re- 
 cognition of God. He has himself kindled his own " lamp ; " 
 has himself supplied the oil to it ; has himself trimmed it ; 
 has himself sheltered it ; has himself kept it burning. All 
 is self. He walks in its light, and exults in it, with "a 
 high look and a proud heart." The higher he rises in 
 prosperity, the more are " his eyelids lifted up." The clearer 
 the light of his " lamp," the more self-sufficient is his van- 
 ity, and the more entirely forgetful is he of God. Thus 
 there is "sin" pervading and characterizing all, and ren- 
 dering all unacceptable in the sight of Him who PONDERETH 
 
 THE HEART. 
 
 Verse 5. "The thoughts of the diligent tend only to plen- 
 teousness; but of every one that is hasty only to want." 
 How is the "hasty" man distinguished from the "diligent" 
 man? Is not promptitude in action a necessary associate of 
 diligence? The answer is, that the "hasty" man does not 
 mean the prompt and ready man, but the rash and ficlde 
 man the inconsiderate and changeable man, the man who 
 acts without /orethought, and stops without a/ferthought. 
 Observe, then 
 
 1. Diligence, while it is opposed to laziness, is opposed 
 also to rashness to premature and inconsiderate haste. The 
 diligent man first plans, and then acts. He proceeds thought- 
 fully and systematically. Diligence can effect little, unless 
 accompanied with careful forethought; nothing worth while, 
 and nothing permanent. The " hasty" who act without con- 
 sideration, who engage in rash projects, who are eager and 
 sanguine in catching at every new thing, and in anticipating 
 great results from little exertion, can never thrive. Their 
 hastily-conceived and ill-matured projects, are only the preludes 
 to successive failures, disappointments, and ruin. And then
 
 PROVERBS XXI. 18. 387 
 
 2. Diligence means steady perseverance in execution. 
 What avails any plan, how well and how maturely soever 
 concerted, if it be not prosecuted with steadfast resolution? 
 Neither " plenteousness," nor any truly good and valuable 
 result, can reasonably be expected without this. The pro- 
 jects of the " hasty," who, while they begin in rashness, are 
 easily disconcerted and prone to change, are never worked out 
 to their perfection. But those of the attentive, plodding, 
 persevering man, who begins in earnest, and goes on to the 
 end in earnest, prepared for difficulties and impressed with 
 the truth that nothing is to be attained without labour, 
 are the projects that promise to produce, and generally do 
 produce, a favourable result. 
 
 Verse 6. " The getting of treasures by a lying tongue is a 
 vanity tossed to and fro of them that seek death." Diligence 
 is a right road to "plenteousness:" here is a wrong the 
 " lying tongue;" on which rests the curse of God. And for- 
 get not what the " lying tongue " includes that he is charge- 
 able with the evil who pretends, in any way, to be what he 
 is not, to have what he has not, not to have what he has, to 
 have said what he has not said, or to have done what he 
 has not done, or not to have said and done what he has 
 said and done ; who tries to gain an end by any word, or act, 
 or look, or even by silence and concealment designed to con- 
 vey a false impression by any means whatever not in har- 
 mony with honest truth, with " simplicity and godly sin- 
 cerity." This, says Solomon, " is a vanity tossed to and fro 
 of them that seek death," It is a " vanity;" inasmuch as it 
 involves both folly and sin : the folly being made evident in 
 ultimate detection, exposure, shame, and loss, loss of char- 
 acter, loss of confidence, and many a. time loss of even what 
 the falsehood had acquired. It is " tossed to and fro." Men 
 learn it from one another. The man who has been imposed 
 upon retaliates ; he has no satisfaction until he has succeeded 
 in duping him by whom he lias himself been taken in, in 
 practising on him an equal or a better trick. It is practised 
 with little thought, with the vanity of a light and incon- 
 siderate mind, and laughed at, in many instances, when it
 
 388 LECTURE LXIV>m 
 
 proves successful, instead of engendering remorse. Success 
 produces a hundred imitators : and the cheats and the dupes 
 are successively reversed, the dupe becoming in his turn the 
 cheat, and the cheat the dupe. And what is the final issue ? 
 They who follow such courses may try to make light of the 
 evil ; but they are " seeking death;' acting as if bent on 
 their own ruin a ruin which shall inevitably come.* 
 
 Verse 7. " The robbery of the wicked shall destroy them ; 
 because they refuse to do judgment." This verse is obviously. 
 and' closely connected, not in position merely but in senti- 
 ment, with the sixth. The sixth relates to the " getting of 
 treasures " by deceit, this to " the getting of treasures " by 
 violence. The one speaks of lies, the other of robbery. 
 moif The robbery of the wicked shall destroy tJiem." It does 
 so, when detected by men, and brought under legal cogni- 
 zance. They lose what they have got, and are punished be- 
 sides. And then " what shall they do when God riseth 
 up?" The just Judge will convict and cast them out They 
 shall be " punished with everlasting destruction from the pre- 
 sence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power." 
 Why ? " because they refuse to do judgment." This is 
 what in the third verse is represented as "acceptable to 
 the Lord." But they " refuse." This supposes them com- 
 manded and warned. They are, both by the dictates of con- 
 science, and by the authority of God s word, and in many 
 cases too, by His provideiice. They resist every admonition; 
 and thus bring their blood upon their own heads.t 
 
 Verse 8. " The way of man is froward and strange : but 
 as for the pure, his work is right." Between this verse and 
 the two preceding there is an equally manifest connexion, 
 The'contrast appears somewhat singular between " the way 
 
 * Stuart renders the verse though " not confidently, for the passage 
 is obscure " " By a lying tongue is tliere a winning of 'treasures ; a fleet- 
 ing breath are they who seek death;" meaning il they who use a lying 
 tongue in order to acquire riches are such as seek their own death, for 
 they shall be as a fleeting breath." This is certainly not so expressive 
 as the rendering of our English version. 
 
 Luther gives a still different rendering. 
 
 f See chap. i. 18, 19; 2431.
 
 PROVE11BS XXI. 1-8. 389 
 
 of man " and the "work of the pure." Yet the language is 
 framed on the same principle with that of the apostle, -when 
 he says, " For ye are yet carnal : for whereas there is among 
 you envying, and strife, and divisions, are ye not carnal, and 
 walk as men 1 " I Cor. iii. 3. The phrase " walk as men," 
 is on the margin, " walk according to man." The reference, 
 in both cases, is to the natural and generic character of man as 
 distinguished from that of the regenerate. "The way" of 
 <*man " is the way which he is naturally disposed to choose 
 and to follow. It is " strange " the way of an alien, of one 
 estranged from God, and from holiness. It is "froward " 
 the way of self-will and rebellious insubordination. <trargaii 
 
 Who, then, are " the pure?" The answer is- those who 
 have been "renewed in the spirit of their minds;" in whom 
 the divine promise has been verified, " A new heart will I 
 give you, and a new spirit will I put witliin you." All real 
 purity in man is the effect of the word and Spirit of God. It 
 is by this he is " washed and sanctified." So it has been from 
 the beginning; so it must be to the end.* ! ''q" 
 
 And what is the proof of inward purification ? " His work 
 is right" Here is the test. Where there is purity in the foun- 
 tain, there will be purity in the streams ; and from the streams 
 we judge of the fountain. "His work is right" This re- 
 lates to a standard. That standard is the character and the 
 law of God. All is right there ; and nothing is right in man 
 that docs not harmonize, in principle and act, with the re- 
 vealed will of God. RECTITUDE is CONFOBMITY TO THAT WILL. 
 
 bos OS-ISY aid) fpj'j'/AJo! I ^ j ohn jy 3_iQ -id ,owq orft icil PJB 
 i. vi Qfft 
 
 ift" flsowtecf acli/guia tarfwi ^B 
 
 .vftrtobftrroo ion " rfgnorfJ >t iiarriS * 
 
 "oiooetfoei 
 <. yu> &JnynS ^J 
 
 icft (rflBsb nwo liorfj jfsaa as ilaua o'tR * ,'iot 
 
 Nfia oa ion \lui&}w9 ei eirf'f ".d afj 
 
 ^niiubnai arfJ H 
 Jn^ioftih lltia R eovig iai(i0J 
 .18 *S ;6I ,81 .i .qado 998 f
 
 bxi 
 
 T T? P T F P P TYV 
 
 .emn L L i I K L LAY, 
 
 lo ni * 
 
 PROV xx! 13 
 
 1RO\. XM. J Id. 
 
 " It is better to dwell in a corner oF the house-top, than with a brawling woman 
 in a wide house. The soul of the wicked desireth evil: liis neighbour findeth no 
 favour in his eyes. When the scorner is punished, the simple is made wise ; 
 and when the wise is instructed, he receiveth knowledge. The righteous man 
 wisely considered! the house of the wicked : but God overthroweth the wicked 
 for their wickedness. Whoso stoppeth his ears at the cry of the poor, he also 
 shall cry himself, but shall not be heard." 
 
 GOD said, when he had created Adam " It is not good 
 that the man should be alone," In the first of these verses, 
 Solomon affirms that there are cases in which it is good 
 for the man to be alone. These are cases in which the gra- 
 cious design of a kind and benevolent God is counteracted 
 by the evil passions which, through sin, became the heritage 
 of our fallen nature. 
 
 In eastern countries, as you are aware, the roofs of the 
 houses were flat ; and when solitude and quiet were specially 
 courted, as for meditation and prayer, for example, the 
 " house-top " was not seldom the resort. To " dicell" however, 
 on the "house-top," and in "a corner of the house-top," 
 could be no very comfortable residence, especially at particular 
 seasons of variable weather. But the spirit of the verse is 
 anything rather than the evil complained of; any place, 
 rather than within the range of fretfulness, contention, and 
 clamour. 
 
 The wife that answers to the description before us, vio- 
 lates at once the precepts of God's law and the spirit of His
 
 PROVERBS XXI. 913. 391 
 
 gospel ; is a plague, where she ought to be a pleasure ; a curse, 
 where she ought to be a blessing ; embittering the fountains 
 of enjoyment, where she ought to sweeten the springs of 
 woe; convert ing into a scene of unceasing vexation and 
 misery, what ought to be a concentration of the richest 
 delights of earth ; throwing venomous and hissing snakes into 
 the circle of love and peace and concord, of fond hearts, and 
 kind lips, and beaming eyes ; and making her wretched hus- 
 band long to find a speedy escape from that which ought to 
 be the repose of his toils, the solace of his cares, the balm of 
 his sorrows, the refreshment, the strength, and the joy of his 
 heart ! Such as know by experience the wretchedness de- 
 scribed, will sympatliise, through bitter fellow-feeling, with 
 others who endure it; and they, on the contrary, who know 
 the exquisite sweets of that domestic intercourse over which 
 love presides, will pity from the bottom of their hearts the 
 hapless victims of this most fearful scourge of social life. 
 
 But let us deal fairly. Solomon, I have formerly had 
 occasion to remark, made a most unjust estimate of the female 
 character. The experience from which, doubtless, he here 
 speaks, was an experience greatly the result of his own folly 
 and sin. His crowded seraglio was not the place for either 
 finding, cherishing, or enjoying the real excellencies of 
 woman. I am fully persuaded, that both the average of gene- 
 ral character, and of connubial affection and faithfulness, are 
 greatly on the female side. A vast deal has been said, and not 
 a little sung, about the miseries of the matrimonial alliance. 
 But of nine-tenths of it what is the origin? Is it not light 
 ness and perverseness in the choice of a partner, in the 
 formation of the union 1 ? Is it not, in innumerable instances, 
 the case, that the most intimate, sacred, indissoluble of 
 all connexions is formed with a levity and infatuation, that 
 have hardly a parallel in any other human negotiations? Do 
 we not see men many a time bestowing far more consideration 
 on the qualities of a horse or a cow before they will venture 
 to purchase, than on the qualities of a woman before they 
 will venture to marry ? the qualities of an inseparable com- 
 panion for life! How, in such cases, is happiness to be
 
 392 LECTURE LXV. 
 
 .!- 
 
 Jooked for] when men, ay and -women too, act as if they 
 not only said in jest but held in earnest, that the whole mat- 
 ter was no better than a lottery 1 The man, moreover, who, 
 regardless of the qualities of mind and heart, marries for 
 mere personal appearance, and still more and still worse, 
 the man who looks only to the purse, and who thus prosti- 
 tutes the finest and tenderest feelings of our nature, and vul- 
 garizes the first and most endearing of all relations to a low, 
 pitiful, sordid computation of pounds, shillings, and pence, 
 is not to be pitied, if in his fair or his wealthy spouse he 
 find a termagant, and by bitter experience be taught the 
 meaning and the truth of the verse before us ; fleeing to the 
 "house-top," and there sighing out his wishes that he could 
 resign beauty and wealth and all, to be free of the scourge of 
 the tongue ! 
 
 Verse 10. "The soul of the wicked desireth evil: his 
 neighbour findeth no favour in his eyes." "Desireth >;?.'" 
 What an amount of malignity do these words express! Eor 
 the meaning does not seem to be that the wicked man desires 
 the sin to which his corruption is prone. The latter clause of 
 the verse leads us to interpret " evil " as meaning evil to his 
 neighbour: the desire ef which may spring from any of the 
 various passions predominating in the bosom of " the wicked " 
 (all concentrated, and summed up in selfishness) avarice, 
 ambition, lust, revenge. When any one of these predominates, 
 or a combination of them sways the despotism of his heart, 
 "his -neighbour findeth no favour in 7iis eyes." Whenever " his 
 neighbour " stands at all in the way of his own gratification, 
 -of the acquisition of any object on which he has set his . 
 heart, no consideration of his interest will be allowed for a 
 moment to interpose an obstacle to its prosecution and attain- 
 ment. SELF is his idol ; SELFISHNESS his grand principle and 
 impulse.. He views " his neighbour " in no other light than 
 as, on the one hand, the means of thwarting, or, on the other, 
 the instrument of promoting his own ends. Can he gain any 
 thing by him } he will flatter and cajole him, and do every- 
 thing to win his favour, and secure his services. Does 
 his "neighbour's" interest, reputation, personal and family
 
 PROVERBS XXI. 913. 393 
 
 comforts, connexions, or even life itself, stand in the way of 
 the attainment of his Avishes ? he is ready to sacrifice all to his 
 idol. He will tempt and seduce him. He will defiaud, rob, 
 oppress, slander, or even kill him. A history of the operation 
 of such passions as were "before enumerated, given "by the in- 
 spiration of Him who "knoweth what is in man," would form 
 a most appalling commentary on this verse. 
 
 There are excellent commentators, however, who interpret 
 the " desiring evil " of the love of sin in general ; and who 
 consider the love of sin as engendering the selfishness which 
 sets at nought the claims of neighbour and friend. This 
 may be the meaning; and, in effect, it comes to much the 
 same tiling. 
 
 Let us, my brethren, hate sin, and strive against the self- 
 ishness which the love of sin engenders, and wluch is one 
 of the characteristics of " the wicked." There is, remember, 
 an important distinction between disposition or inclination^ 
 and conscience. They are often at variance. It is by the 
 former, not by the latter, that character is formed and dis- 
 tinguished. The most wicked of men may in his conscience 
 disapprove what, following the bent of his inclination, he 
 does. Even when he " works all xincleanness with greedi- 
 ness," even when he pursues the gratification of his avarice 
 or his ambition at the expense of every principle of equity 
 and benevolence, and regard to the interests of others, he 
 may be very far from having conscience on his side. But the 
 main difference between him and the good man is, that while 
 he compels ^conscience to yield to inclination, the other brings 
 inclination into conformity with conscience " crucifying the 
 flesh with its affections and lusts ;" and, instead of selfishly 
 setting aside the claims and rights and necessities of others 
 for his own gratification, seeks his own pleasure in promoting 
 the well-being of all around him. All his neighbours find 
 
 favour in Ins eijes. 
 
 Verse 11. "When the scorner is punished, the simple is 
 
 made wise; and when the wise is instructed, IK; irr- 
 knowledge."* The " scorner," as we have frequently had oc- 
 * Comp. chap. xix. 25.
 
 394 LECTURE LXV. 
 
 casion to remark, is the man who laughs at all principle and 
 restraint ; who " makes a mock at sin," and sets at defiance 
 all authority. As " the simple " he who is inexperienced, 
 inconsiderate, thoughtless, when he " sees the prosperity " 
 of such an one, is in danger of giving way to the rising emo- 
 tions of envy, and, stumbled by the mystery which his very 
 simplicity makes him at a loss to explain, of seeking to imi- 
 tate ; so when such an one is punished, when the scorner's 
 high minded contempt of God and goodness is thus visited and 
 rebuked, when the true and proper tendency of the course he 
 follows is thus made manifest, the simple is struck; consi- 
 deration is forced upon him ; he is led to look to the end of 
 such courses; he " foreseeth the evil, and hideth himself;" he 
 betakes himself to a wiser and a better way, repenting and 
 turning unto God ; he is made wise, by learning to " fear 
 God, and depart from evil." 
 
 In the latter part of the verse, what is the antecedent to 
 the pronoun he? Is it " the wise ? " It maybe; and the 
 statement holds true. " The wise " improves under " instruc- 
 tion." "He receivrth knowledge" Instruction is not lost 
 upon him. But I am inclined to regard " the simple " as 
 the real antecedent ; the meaning being, that from the " in- 
 struction of the wise," as well as from " the punishment of 
 the scorner," "the simple" is enlightened and profited. 
 The docility of " the wise " the humble and earnest manner 
 in which he is seen to receive the lessons of divine teaching, 
 tends, as does the view of the sad results of the scorner's 
 hardihood, to impress the mind of " the simple " with a sense 
 of the folly of his own inconsiderate thoughtlessness. 
 
 Let us learn the lesson of imitating in the latter case, and 
 being on our guard in the other. If we see " the wise receiv- 
 ing knowledge," and see the effects of that knowledge in the 
 propriety, consistency, and dignity of their conduct, in 
 the influence, respect, and real substantial good of which 
 it is productive; and when, on the contrary, we see the 
 unprincipled "scorner" reaping even here the bitter fruits 
 of his madness, and look forward to the end, when these 
 fruits will be reaped in their full amount of righteous inflio
 
 PROVERBS XXI. 913. 395 
 
 tion, let us "stand in awe and sin not;" let us leave to 
 himself " the seat of the scorner," " the way of the sinner," 
 and " the counsel of the ungodly." 
 
 Verse 1 2. " The righteous man wisely considereth the 
 house of the wicked : but God overthroweth the -wicked for 
 their wickedness." The supplement in this verse is evidently 
 a very violent one. It is not easy to conceive the writer 
 omitting to express the words that are here inserted, if he 
 really intended them to be understood. I refer to the words 
 " but God" I cannot imagine a more unlikely ellipsis. 
 Some critics regard the verse as having undergone some little 
 corruption in the original, and they venture to alter accord- 
 ingly. But conjectural criticism is hazardous ; and it must 
 be a case of very hard necessity indeed that can justify hav- 
 ing recourse to it. And at the same time the insertion of 
 supplementary words requires hardly less caiition and reserve. 
 Observe, then : First, the word rendered here " wisely con- 
 sideretli" is the same verb which, in the preceding verse, is 
 translated " is instructed;" and to instruct, to give instruc- 
 tion, is its most common acceptation. Farther, the verb 
 translated " overthroweth" means also " to turn aside " 
 generally in the sense of perverting, or turning from good, but 
 not necessarily. 
 
 On such grounds, the verse has been translated by Dr. 
 Boothroyd (and, although not in every point satisfied, I ac- 
 quiesce in the rendering as the best,) "The righteous man 
 teacheth, or gives instruction to, the house of the wicked, 
 to turn away the wicked from evil." A forced and un- 
 natural supplement is thus avoided; and the difficulties, in 
 a simply critical view, are at least greatly lessened. In the 
 Vulgate Latin version, the same turn is givx-n to the second 
 part of the verse; "The just man thinks maturely con- 
 cerning the house of the wicked, that ho may draw away the 
 wicked from evil." 
 
 And the practical sentiment thus brought out is one of 
 the greatest importance. In the phrase " the house, or fa- 
 mily of the wicked," the word wicked is in the singular num- 
 ber, -"the house of the wicked man:" in the latter part
 
 396 81-BECTURK LXV.)JH 
 
 of the verse, " that he may turn away the wicked from evil," 
 wicked is plural, and may be considered as referring to the 
 members of his household along with himself. The right- 
 eous man is deeply sensible that the family of the wicked 
 are in danger of " perishing for lack of knowledge." Who 
 is to instruct them? He looks upon such families with 
 melting compassion; and his compassion, like that of God, 
 and like that of Christ, is practical He seeks opportunities 
 of communicating instruction; and the nature of the instruc- 
 tion appears from the nature of the design " that he may 
 turn away the tricked from evil." * 
 
 Verse 1 3. " Whoso stoppeth his ears at the cry of the 
 poor, he also shall cry himself, but shall not be heard." In 
 illustration of these striking and alarming words, observe 
 First : we may always expect, both in general society and in 
 the church of God, " the rich and the poor to meet together." 
 " The poor shall never cease out of the ' land," said God to 
 Moses. "The poor ye have always with you," said Jesus 
 to his disciples. The distinction has existed from the be- 
 ginning hitherto. Wherever there has been property, it has 
 been in various portions; and were there an equal parti- 
 tion of property to-day, there would be a difference to-mor- 
 row a difference arising from diversity of character, as 
 well as from the incessant influence of changing events. On. 
 the very day of equalization ten thousand incidents, over 
 which men, themselves could exert no control, even indepen- 
 dently of the operation of avarice, and prodigality, and 
 fancy, and whim, and caprice, would produce ten thousand 
 changes. There are varieties of poverty ; for poverty is a 
 relative and comparative term. And among the indigent 
 and dependent poor there are also varieties : the industrious 
 
 * Stuart renders the verse " The Righteous One taketh cognizance 
 of the house of the wicked; he will cast the wicked headlong into 
 evil." Of the verb in the second clause he says " A very strong 
 word, to precipitate, to cast doion headlong." Thus our translators have 
 "overthrow;" and such would certainly seem to be the usual sense of 
 the term. Luther's rendering ot the former part of the verse is much 
 the same as that of the English version; the latter he renders, " but the 
 wicked iAiafc only to do mischief" on what authority it is hard toay.
 
 PROVERBS XX3Uff-l3. S97 
 
 and the indolent ; the sober and the intemperate ; the vir- 
 tuous and the vicious; the deserving and the undeserving. 
 Hence, secondly, nothing can be of greater consequence than 
 marking this distinction, and regulating our charity accord- 
 ingly. The verse cannot mean, that by an indiscriminate 
 distribution of alms, we should hold out an encouragement 
 to laziness, or a bounty to thriftless and unprincipled profli- 
 gacy the beggary of the idle and the wicked. There is a 
 "stopping of the ears" that is at times a virtue, requiring 
 an effort of self-denying principle, in opposition to the mere 
 emotion and impulse of present pity. There are some who 
 are worthless vagrants; there are others who are not really 
 needy, but impostors on public benevolence. If we have the 
 slightest ground to suspect either, it is but right to " stop the 
 ear" till we know the case. Charity must be exercised jiidi- 
 ciously. If it is not, we may greatly aggravate the evil it is 
 our design to alleviate : and faithfulness to the stewardship 
 with which God invests every man on whom ho bestows the 
 means of doing good, requires of him the use of discretion - 
 the application of judgment, as Avell as the indulgence of feel- 
 ing. Thirdly, the sin here reproved is an unmerciful dis- 
 position; unfeeling hardness of heart; pitiless, avaricious, 
 griping selfishness. Now, in many ways this selfishness 
 may be exemplified. For instance, in the unreasonable 
 beating down of the wages of the poor labourer and arti- 
 san; for true as it is that wages must be regulated by 
 the state of supply and demand, yet there is, at times, to be 
 seen a readiness to take advantage of circumstances beyond 
 what they justly warrant, and, for the sake of a little extra 
 profit, to grind the faces of the poor by screwing down the 
 remuneration of their labour to the very starving point ; 
 and, when they naturally and earnestly lift the voice of 
 complaint and remonstrance, "stopping the ear at their 
 cry." There is, again, the denial of protection to the poor, 
 when it is pleaded for against oppression, and when we 
 have it at all in our power to afford it. There is, still fur- 
 ther, the selfish, ruthless disregard of the applications of the 
 poor in their times of want and suffering, the heartless rt>-
 
 398 LECTURE LXV. 
 
 fusal to hear them, to be troubled with, their representa- 
 tions and complainings, some excuse being ever found or 
 devised for declining to listen to or relieve them. This is a 
 fearful violation of the great law of righteousness and love. 
 Once more, there is a public " stopping of the ear at the cry 
 of the poor," in times of prevailing destitution and distress, 
 which, we cannot but feel, must awaken divine indignation 
 against the Government and the country in which it prevails. 
 It is the duty of every Government to deal equally with all 
 classes of the community; and it becomes the duty of all 
 the subjects of that Government to do what lies constitu- 
 tionally in their power, to obtain the adoption of such mea- 
 sures as are fitted, without doing injustice to others, to pro- 
 vide most effectually, extensively, and permanently, for the 
 wants of the unemployed and the destitute. 
 
 The saying of the verse is often verified amongst men. 
 The avaricious and unmerciful, when they are themselves 
 brought low and into straits, meet with little commiseration. 
 As they meted, it is meted to them. If any thing is given 
 them, it is with a grudge and stintedly. Heart and hand are 
 closed against them; and the ear of generous kindness is 
 turned away from their complainings. And in divine retri- 
 bution, the saying is invariably and infallibly true. The 
 poor were the objects of the special compassion and care 
 of the merciful Saviour. His churches should resemble 
 Him in this. It will fare ill with churches, as well as in- 
 dividuals, if they " stop their ear at the cry of the poor." It 
 is one of the marks of a church's spiritual prosperity, and 
 augurs the favour and blessing of their Lord, when the pool 
 are kindly and liberally cared for.* 
 
 * See 2 Cor. ix. 611. 
 
 END OF VOL. II. 
 
 KDINBURGH: 
 FCLI.AUTOJf AND MAC.VAB, PRINTERS, LEITH WALK.
 
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