Proverbs 25

Proverbs 25:1-7

LECTURE LXXVI.

Proverbs 25:1-7 .

“These are also proverbs of Solomon, which the men of Hezekiah king of Judah copied out. It is the glory of God to conceal a thing: but the honour of kings is to search out a matter. The heaven for height and the earth for depth, and the heart of kings is unsearchable. Take away the dross from the silver, and there shall come forth a vessel for the finer. Take away the wicked from before the king, and his throne shall be established in righteousness. Put not forth thyself in the presence of the king, and stand not in the place of great men: for better it is that it be said unto thee, Come up hither, than that thou shouldest be put lower in the presence of the prince whom thine eyes have seen.”

At this point commences the fourth division of this Book, extending to the close of the twenty-ninth chapter.-In 1 Kings 4:32 , it is said of Solomon, in enumerating the particulars of his extraordinary wisdom,-“he spoke three thousand proverbs.” And what he is thus said to have spoken, it is evidently designed to be understood, he committed to writing. The full collection of these sententious maxims of wisdom had been kept, it would appear, in the possession of the house of David, or of the kings of Judah. The selection in the preceding part of the Book had been made by Solomon himself. Those which follow were added in the time of good king Hezekiah; by the direction, there is every reason to suppose, of that exemplary prince, for the religious benefit of his people. “The men of Hezekiah” stands in the Septuagint translation, “the friends of Hezekiah”-meaning, in all likelihood, Isaiah and other inspired men. Like the proverbs-which precede, these must be regarded, by their admission into the Jewish canon of Scripture, as having the sanction, not only of the wisdom and experience of Solomon, but of divine authority; and we owe them the same reverential regard as we owe to other parts of God’s Word.

The “men of Hezekiah” by whom they were “copied out” were employed, by the providence of God, in doing a service to all future generations. They have added to the precious practical instructions by which we are directed in our conduct on earth, and are trained for the perfection of heaven. Thus are there various kinds and degrees of usefulness in the church of God. Solomon, in selecting and composing these gems of moral and spiritual instruction, was more honoured than those by whom they were merely copied; but the copyists were of eminent service.-And what would have become of the church of God, in ages preceding the invention of the art of printing, but for the labours of scribes, in taking copies of what had been “given by inspiration of God?”

Verse Proverbs 25:2 . “It is the glory of God to conceal a thing: but the honour of kings to search out a matter."-Without entering at large into the interesting subject of the union of manifestation and concealment,-of discovery and of secrecy,-in the divine administration, (which the style of exposition does not allow,) perhaps the following truths may be considered as comprehended in this brief but striking statement-“It is the glory of God to conceal a thing:”-

1. Taking it in contrast with the latter part of the verse-“but the honour of kings is to search out a matter,"-there is implied the idea that the divine knowledge is universal, perfect, and free from everything of the nature of inquiry, investigation, effort, in the acquisition. His acquaintance with all things is, in the strictest sense, intuitive, and, in the strictest sense, complete. He requires no “searching out” in order to discover anything; nor is it possible to make any addition to His knowledge. The past, the present, and the future are alike before His all-comprehensive mind. He sees all the present. He remembers all the past. He fore-sees all the future. His knowledge is “light without any darkness at all;” and it is light that is equally clear through the immensity of the universe, and through all time and all eternity!

2. The language implies God’s entire independence and supremacy, as a part of His glory. He “giveth not account of any of his matters,” further than, in sovereignty, He sees meet to do. He conceals when he pleases. He discloses when he pleases:-“Who hath known the mind of the Lord? or who hath been his counsellor?” and who can demand the disclosure of any one of the secrets of the infinite and independent Mind?

3. The impenetrable depth of his counsels is a part of God’s glory. His “judgments are a great deep.” What line of created wisdom can fathom them?-

“Not angels, that stand round his throne,

Can search his secret will!”

“Canst thou, by searching, find out God? canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection? It is high as heaven; what canst thou do? deeper than hell; what canst thou know? The measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea.” “O the depth of the riches, and wisdom, and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!” This is fitted to inspire us, His intelligent creatures, with “reverence and godly fear.” In the sovereign secrecy, the unapproachable reservation, the unfathomable mysteriousness of the divine counsels,-in the very requirement that we humbly bow, in adoring submission, where we cannot comprehend, without asking a question, or urging a further disclosure:-in all this, there is something that gives the Creator His proper place. There is in it a sacredness, an awfulness, that mates us feel, as we ought to do, our infinite distance. This is God’s glory.

4. In all God’s most mysterious and incomprehensible ways, He is entitled to entire and undoubting confidence. His very secrecy is a test of principle, and thus one of the means of bringing glory to his name in the exercise of principle in our feelings and conduct towards him. Were there no concealment, there would be no trial of faith, no trust. And while God brings honour to himself by thus drawing forth the confiding filial love of his children, He lays up glory for his name against the day of future disclosure, when all shall be made plain,-the day of the “revelation of the righteous judgments of God!”

It is His glory, that, after all the discoveries of himself made to us, both in his works and in his word, we yet are constrained to exclaim-“How little a portion is known of Him!” The little is full of wonder; but infinitude is still in concealment. And even of the vast and complicated schemes of providence and of grace, how much is there, after all we see and all He has told us, respecting which we are still left to say-“The day will declare it!”

“But it is the honour of kings to search out a matter."-The general meaning and spirit of these words, from the position of contrast in which they stand, appears to be, that it belongs not to man, how elevated soever in authority and honour he may be, to assume airs of divinity, and presume to think of imitating the peculiar prerogatives of the supreme Ruler. It is the province of earthly rulers to keep their own place, and, instead of “thinking of themselves more highly than they ought to think,” to “think soberly,” and, in humbleness of mind, to endeavour, in the application of all their powers, to fulfil the ends for which they have been entrusted with their power.

It becomes kings to imitate, in the administration of their government, the righteousness and the mercy of the divine;-but there are points in which all imitation would be presumption. They must not imitate Him in intuitive discernment and instantaneous decision; nor must they imitate Him in profound secrecy and impenetrability of counsel and procedure.

As to the former:-it must be the effect of one or other of these things-pride, or vanity, or hasty passion, or indolent remissness. And no one of these is an honour to a prince, but the very reverse. In every case of judgment that involves the rights and affects the well-being of individual subjects, and in every measure that embraces more extensively the prosperity and happiness of the community, and may either, on the one hand, effectually promote these, or on the other, expose them to injury or to risk, it is his incumbent duty, and it is his “honour,"-instead of hasty and peremptory decision,-to search out the matter; to consider, to consult, to compare advices, to weigh all evidence, on either side, with scrupulous conscientiousness,-laying together, in regard to every public measure, all its various bearings and tendencies, and possible or probable results. Intuition belongs only to God; and instant decision can be warrantable only in the case of him who possesses it.

And as to the latter:-it too is the result of pride and selfsufficiency,-of the arrogance of royalty. From nothing else can the assumption proceed of studious secrecy, and distance, and elevation, and mystery, into which their subjects beneath them must not presume to pry, or attempt to penetrate;-and the affectation of deciding and acting on grounds that must by no means be known, but wrapt up in the mystery of sovereignty and the haughty reserve of false greatness. Such procedure, considered as the general character of the dealings of royalty, maybe dictated by fear; but not by attachment nor confidence; nor is it fitted to engender either. The honour of a king, in “searching out a matter” is-to show, in his general procedure, with openness and unreserve, the grounds on which it is founded,-thus manifesting confidence in his people, a desire to show them and to satisfy them of his real regard, while, at the same time, he keeps his place, maintains his legitimate authority, and is unswayed, to the right hand or to the left, by any momentary clamour of popular threatening. This is his glory. This gives the most desirable and enviable of all honour to a ruler,-a place in the hearts of his people, a throne in their affections.

The same principle, it may be observed, applies to all in authority, as well as to kings,-whether in the state or in the church; to all magistrates and judges, to all private arbiters, to masters in reference to their servants, to parents in reference to their children; to pastors of churches, and to brethren entrusted with any matter for investigation. It is at once duty and honour to search out everything that comes under their cognizance. The honour should ever be regarded as lying in the fairness and impartial justice of the decision, and in the completeness with which it meets every branch and bearing of it, so as to leave no ground for subsequent dissatisfaction and complaint; not in the mere off-hand and summary quickness with which it is dispatched, and by which fools seek to get to themselves the credit of extraordinary perspicacity,-of seeing at a glance through intricacies that would cost others a process of anxious scrutiny.

In the next verse a comparison is intended: “as the heaven for height, and the earth for depth, so the heart of kings is unsearchable.”

It is quite true, notwithstanding what we have before said, and in perfect consistency with it, that a wise prince will, in regard to some of the measures of his administration, be on the reserve. There are plans which depend on secrecy for their success, and of which the premature disclosure would be the ruin. There may at times be secrets that are confidential between governments, as well as between individuals,-of which the divulging would be a breach of the faith of treaties, and might expose the rights and liberties of other nations to hazard.

I scarcely think, however, had this been the sentiment intended, it would have been expressed in terms so very strong. That “the heart of kings is unsearchable,” and as incapable of being known as the height of the heaven to be measured and scaled, or the depth of the earth to be penetrated,-is surely too strong a mode of expressing the propriety of secrecy, howsoever profound, in regard to some of their measures. As the third verse seems to stand in opposition to the second, I am inclined to think that it is not to be understood as commendatory, or as expressing what is right and ought to be; but rather as having reference to the generally prevailing character of the monarchs of those days, and of those eastern countries. They were despots;-their governments absolute, and inimical to everything like popular freedom. Decisions were come to, and sentences pronounced, and both carried into instant execution; persons were seized; property was confiscated; liberty was forfeited; life itself was taken away, without warning, and for reasons which nobody knew, and nobody dared to ask: and complaint was more than unavailing;-it was unpardonable presumption, for which death was lenity. All was hidden, all mysterious; and no one could be sure for an hour what might, amidst the dark intrigues of a despotic court, be impending over him. With public measures, it was the same. Wars were waged; treasures were lavished; blood flowed; for causes which many a time had their origin in personal caprice, or whim, or resentment. The secret depths of the despot’s bosom were out of reach.

Should it, on the other hand, be thought unlikely that Solomon, himself a king, should speak in terms so strongly condemnatory of kings in general,-and should it be thought more reasonable, as by many it will, and perhaps justly, that the words are descriptive of the greatly superior difficulties and weighty interests and cares of royalty, to those in all ordinary and more private occupations-I cannot illustrate this view of the subject better than in the language of another:-“The affairs of government are so various and complicated, they have so many designs to carry on, so many mischiefs to obviate, so many opposite tempers of men to consider, and so many difficulties to encounter, that persons in a lower station cannot possibly understand the reasons of a great part of their conduct, or the ends which they have in view. It is therefore presumptuous in subjects to be rash with their censures on the public management. Those who take a liberty to despise dominions, and speak evil of dignities, should be sure that they do not speak evil of those things which they understand not.”

Verses Proverbs 25:4-5 . “Take away the dross from the silver, and there shall come forth a vessel for the finer. Take away the wicked from before the king, and his throne shall be established in righteousness.” Here too is a comparison. As in order to the production of a beautiful vessel, such as “the refiner” would approve and commend, the material of which the vessel is to be made must be purged of its alloy;-so, in order to the general government of a prince being of a nature to prove conducive to the benefit of his people and to the stability of his throne, the wicked must be removed from his presence and from all intimacy with his life and counsels.-How many princes, themselves well-principled and inclined to what is right, have been misled by the influence of profligate and artful counsellors,-especially when their own minds, though rightly disposed, are deficient in vigour and decision of character! They are then easily made the dupes of clever but unprincipled men, who can set measures of the worst and most impolitic kind in lights that are imposing and captivating; and who can not only “make the worse appear the better reason,” but by the acts of flattery undermine their better principles and gradually assimilate them to themselves, and bring them to do as they will. Nay, even the very best princes may sometimes be thwarted and weakened, and prevented from carrying out their own measures of wise policy, by the too great ascendency of certain individuals, both in the state and in the army. David felt this, when he lamented the fall of the murdered Abner, whose death, which had been perpetrated by Joab, he weakly allowed to pass unvisited by the vengeance which the law of God demanded.*

• See 2 Samuel 3:38-39 .

The sentiment is, as we have before noticed, most false and dangerous, that private or personal character is of little consequence in a prince or in his counsellors;-that what is chiefly to be looked to is, right political principles, with intelligence and firmness to work them consistently and steadily;-that, in a word, public and political character is alone to be minded. Nothing can be plainer than that the principles of private character will infallibly infuse their influence into a man’s official and public conduct. Surely we can repose greater confidence in the counsels and procedure of the man whom we know to be under the influence of sobriety, purity, integrity, and piety, than in him who is destitute of all right moral principle, and under the dominion of profligacy, unrighteousness, incontinence, selfishness, and irreligion! The prevention of the corruption of a monarch’s principles by the “taking away the wicked from before him,” tends both to the prosperity of the people and to the stability of the government. The example of the prince contributes to the increase in the community of the “righteousness which exalteth a nation;” and the manifestation of steadfast integrity, and of conscientious solicitude to do all that can be done for the public good, and not for mere personal and selfish ends, attaches the people to the throne. And this attachment is the prince’s best security,-as well as his richest earthly reward.

Let us not forget-since we are not ourselves either the possessors or the heirs of thrones, however interested in the characters of those who occupy them,-that there is a general principle in the sentiment of these verses, which admits of other applications. That which corrupts princes corrupts the occupants of all the different stations in society as well as them. We have here, as exemplified in the high places of the earth, the apostolic maxim-“Evil communications corrupt good manners.” If you would have your children “vessels for the finer;” if you would have the dross and the tin of their native corruption effectually purged away; if you would have them “walking in truth, as we have received a commandment from the Father,"-then must you, as far as lieth in you, “take away the wicked from before them;"-you must keep them from the contaminating contact of the unprincipled and ungodly,-from “the counsels of the workers of iniquity.” They may counteract and nullify all your efforts for their moral and spiritual benefit,-and by their perverting influence, “pierce you through with many sorrows.”

Proverbs 25:8-13

LECTURE LXXVII.

Proverbs 25:8-13 .

“Go not forth hastily to strive, lest thou know not what to do in the end thereof, when thy neighbour hath put thee to shame. Debate thy cause with thy neighbour himself, and discover not a secret to another; lest he that heareth it put thee to shame, and thine infamy turn not away. A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver. As an ear-ring of gold, and an ornament of fine gold, so is a wise reprover upon an obedient ear. As the cold of snow in the time of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to them that send him; for he refresheth the soul of his masters.”

There is a natural enough connection between the first of these verses and the two that precede; in which we have the spirit of vain self-importance and self-sufficiency. “Hastiness to strive” is very often the effect of the same spirit. It is touched instantly and to the quick by the slightest surmise,-the most distant rumour-of insult or opposition. It is on fire in a moment. It takes no leisure to inquire or to deliberate. It assumes its ground with rash precipitancy, and without discrimination, either of persons or of circumstances. To the man of this spirit, it is quite enough that some one has insulted him. He instantly takes the field, before he has distinctly ascertained even the facts, far less considered the tactics it is best, or most consistent with duty, to pursue. The consequence of such haste is often what is here described:-“Lest thou know not what to do in the end thereof, when thy neighbour hath put thee to shame.”

Allow me, for the sake of illustration, to suppose two or three varieties of this result:-

1. The hasty man meets his supposed adversary,-some word or act of whom has just reached him. He is all full of the fuming pride of offended self-consequence; very big; very wrathful. In this spirit he makes his charge; and finds it is a mere idle unfounded rumour that has come to his ears; that there is actually nothing in it; that nothing of the kind has ever been either said or done; that there is no ground whatever for all his excitement and transport!-How foolish he looks, when his imagined enemy, against whom he has been breathing out the vehemence of passion, all collected and cool, stands wondering at his agitation,-unable to divine what has come over him!-And how is he laughed at for having stirred himself up to all this heat and hurry,-all this violence of emotion-for nothing!

2. It turns out that in the cause between him and his neighbour, which he has so hastily taken up, he is in the wrong;-that, after all his froth and bluster, truth and justice are clearly on the other side, with all the solid and satisfactory argument; while on his there is little or nothing beyond the noisy and vehement protestations of self-sufficiency, and he is quite unable to withstand the proofs against him,-the verdict of all impartial persons being in favour of his opponent. In this case, he must either, after having his pride keenly mortified, cool down, and own himself in the wrong,-which is the best thing he can do, but far from easy to a man of his temper; or the more he is overpowered by evidence of facts and by sound argument, the more must the sense of conscious defeat, and consequent feeling of inferiority, inflame him to rage; by which he will only render himself the more ridiculous, and give cause of more lasting mortification and shame.

3. The same things are true of a controversial dispute on any subject. Generally speaking, the hastiest and most self-confident is the most likely to fail. Such confidence very often accompanies partial information and superficial and one-sided views. The petulant, consequential disputant “goes forth hastily to strive,” in the full assurance that his arguments are such as cannot be resisted, and in the full flush of anticipated triumph,-of victory before the battle. But objections meet him, of which he had never thought. Arguments are arrayed and urged on the opposite side, such as had never occurred to his own mind, and such, therefore, as he did not at all expect, and cannot refute. I can imagine few situations more full of galling mortification. He is abashed, confounded, stupified. Where he looked for certain victory, he finds humiliating defeat. Where his tongue was to be all eloquence, he is downcast and silent; where he anticipated laurels, he reaps briars and thorns. He lies at the mercy of his antagonist. That antagonist may be spiteful, and take his advantage to the uttermost of his confusion, exposing him at every point. If this is not his fate, it is one still worse. He rises in angry loudness as he sinks in sense and argument; he makes up for the weakness of his reasoning by the strength of his lungs, by vociferous and declamatory dogmatism. And this only brings him the lower; sinks him the deeper in shame;-far deeper, than if he had at once, and candidly, owned his ignorance and precipitation, and given in with a good grace.

It is an important lesson,-that a man should know and feel well his ground, before he ventures into the arena of debate. Even when his cause is right, this is necessary. In many cases, it is not the real weakness of the cause, but the haste and superficiality of the advocate, that occasions defeat. While many a time, on the one hand, it has happened, that the pert and forward objector to Christianity has been foiled, and silenced, and put to confusion, (and in such circumstances, the Christian advocate should assuredly improve his advantage, not for self-exultation, not for vain-glorious triumph, not for contemptuous derision and trampling upon the fallen, but with meekness and affectionate tenderness, for pressing home the truth, and recommending it to acceptance,) yet, on the other hand, the friends of Christianity had need to be cautious, and not too hastily and inconsiderately to throw down the gauntlet to the infidel. When one thus enters the lists without due forethought and preparation,-not sufficiently aware of infidel plausibilities and sceptical subtleties-much harm, instead of benefit, may be the result. The believer of the truth may “have the witness in himself” of its being from God. He feels its holy power. In this experience he has solid ground of peace and hope,-there being, at the same time, a clear discernment of the adaptation of the gospel to his own exigencies and to the character of God. But still, this is not enough to bring against a practised sceptic,-a skilful infidel antagonist. Various are the subtleties, which, though refuted a thousand times, the particular advocate may not find himself at the moment in a condition to meet; and a defeat or silencing from this cause, is apt to have a very injurious effect both on his own mind and on that of his adversary-throwing a painful doubt over his own faith, and confirming his adversary’s unbelief and self-sufficient scorn.

Perhaps, however, the principal reference in the verse is to matters of personal injury and personal difference. This appears from next verse:-” Debate thy cause with thy neighbour himself, and discover not a secret to another."-You may compare with these verses Matthew 18:15-18 . You will observe, that in the two passages the principle is the same. In the latter, however, it is formally laid down as a binding law, in all its successive steps, in the social intercourse of fellow-Christians in the church. Look, then, at the duty-taking both passages together:-

1. An injury is supposed to have been done and sustained, but not to be publicly known-to be confined, in the knowledge of it, to the parties themselves. It is of consequence to mark this, because the rule is often misapprehended, and applied in cases where it has no propriety and no obligation,-to which neither Solomon nor Christ referred,-cases of open and known trespass. In the spirit of it, it ought, I think, to be applied in cases of sin known to us as having been done by another, but known, we have reason to believe, to us only, even although the sin may not be of the nature of personal offence. The chief reference, however, is to offences of the latter description. The rule is a good one in all such cases: and when they occur between brethren in a church of Christ, it is, in every step of the process prescribed by the Church’s Head, of indispensable obligation.

2. When the wrong, then, has been done, the first duty is, to go to our neighbour himself, and when he is by himself;-to lay our grievance calmly and faithfully, and in the spirit of affection, before him; in the same spirit to expostulate with him; to convince him of the wrong he has done; to propose reasonable terms of reconciliation and agreement,-all under the influence of a sincere desire to gain him over by kind and becoming means.

3. It is implied in this, that the “secret,” as Solomon terms it, is not to be divulged either before the interview, or if the interview prove successful, after it. Not before; for this, if known to him, will prevent his listening to you in a temper of mind that promises a successful issue; and, should he learn it subsequently, may undo all the benefit:-not after, when you have effected your object; for this too may go far to nullify the favourable result, opening the wound, giving him ground of offence in his turn, and so widening the breach and confirming the distance.

4. Observe the consequence, as stated in the tenth verse, of transgressing the salutary direction:-“Lest he that heareth it put thee to shame, and thine infamy turn not away.” That is, if you do “discover the secret,” this comes to the ear of the other party, and “shame” and “infamy” will follow. Even if the representation you have given of the case be a perfectly fair one, and he have no cause, in that respect, for complaint, still you have broken implied faith; you have made an uncalled-for and unfriendly disclosure of what it was understood was to go no further; you have unnecessarily and unkindly made his faults known. And if, on the contrary,-which is much more likely, you have given a representation as favourable as possible to yourselves, and proportionally unfavourable to him,-then you bring upon yourself a double ground of resentment and of odium. Not your adversary alone, but all will disapprove and reprobate; and the blot may adhere to your character all your days; the ‘“infamy” may never “turn away.”

5. The same duty of faithful reticence is strictly applicable to all secrets committed to us by others. They should be held sacred,-the trust inviolable. On this important matter,-a matter too lightly thought of even when right principles are admitted,-allow me to offer a few directions. 1. When you have got a secret committed to you, the temptation is, in some cases, very strong to make it known. You have a feeling of superiority in knowing something of which others are ignorant; and, it may be, of self-importance in having been made its confidential depositaries. There is a vanity in being able to say-I know something which you don’t. And there is a vanity too of having confidence reposed in you. You would fain have this known. But alas! for the dilemma. If it remains unknown, your vanity remains ungratified; and then, if you tell it, you prove that of the very confidence reposed in you, and of which you were so vain, you have not been worthy: so you put yourself effectually to shame. 2. There is a temptation to reveal a secret in the friendship and intimacy of the person to whom you tell it. You think this friendship requires it of you, and that there is no true friendship where there is secrecy,-that all should be unreserved between bosom friends. But, whatever friendship requires, it can never require this. The obligation of intimacy with one can never be a sufficient reason for violating an obligation under which you have come to another. No friendship, how strong soever its ties and its claims, can be an apology for betraying a third party-for breaking your word. 3. You may sometimes feel tempted to divulge a secret by the idea that making it known, in some particular quarter, may be the means of good to him whose secret it is. By telling it to such a one, you may benefit him. Even this will not do. For, first, “the heart is deceitful;” and you may, unconsciously, be influenced by mingled motives, and be covering the one under the other:-and then, secondly, your clear duty, in every such case, is, to tell him first, and let him judge for himself as to what you propose, and, if he is satisfied, so far release and set you free. 4. The fewer secrets the better. The making of a confidential communication-may of course be occasionally necessary. But where there is no necessity for it, it had better be avoided. Multiplied secrets are only multiplied temptations; and there is a vast deal too much of trifling with what ought to be sacred. Make as few of them as you can; and take as few of them as you can. 5. It is exceedingly criminal in any one to tempt another, and try to persuade him to divulge what has been confidentially committed to him;-to worm it out of him. This is infamous. It is usually done, as might be expected, by assurances of perfect secrecy. No one shall ever get it from them. They will be still as the grave. Now, for my own part, I should always be disposed to be the closer, the greater anxiety was by any one discovered to induce me to make the disclosure. My confidence in his assurances should proportionally be lessened. He who tempts another to do what is wrong, does not give very satisfactory ground for trusting that he will never do the same wrong himself. To tempt another to any sin is the next thing to our own doing it. 6. When you are about to receive a secret from another, and you have in your mind any exceptions from the restriction,-individuals to whom you imagine it will be no violation of your engagement to impart it,-these exceptions ought to be mentioned. You have no right to make them to yourself, while you are supposed by the person who imparts to you the secret to be making none, but to receive his communication as a confidential one with no reservation. This is treachery. It is evidently, in such cases, duty to intimate the particular exceptions you are desirous to make, and to get from your friend special permission respecting them. This should be done, even if the exception were the wife of your bosom. If you cannot get the permission you desire, decline receiving the communication. 7. There is one case however, I think, which must absolve from the obligation of secrecy. It is when the keeping of the secret is to work essential injury to a third party. In this case the secret resembles the taking of a rash oath, such as cannot be fulfilled without doing harm to our fellow-creatures, or violating some express command of God. No one will say that Herod did right in keeping his foolish oath, when the fulfilment of it required the murder of John the Baptist. With regard to ourselves,-when we come to see that the keeping of a secret, like the keeping of an oath, is all but sure to be injurious to us, we may with propriety seek to be released; but if we cannot prevail, I presume the case will come under the description of one of the features in the character of the good man described by the Psalmist,-who “sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not.”

Verse Proverbs 25:11 . “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver."-What is the comparison here? It has been variously understood. The word rendered “pictures” is generally conceived rather to mean net-work or lattice-work:-and the apples to be cither artificial apples represented by the skilful workman in an ornamental basket of silver filigree, or real apples, of golden hue, brought to table in such a basket. The allusion is evidently to some ornamental work of exquisite device and execution, known in those days.* What, then, is the import of the comparison? “A word” may signify a word of counsel, of instruction, of encouraging commendation, and especially (as the following verse suggests) of reproof. But it is not every such word that is meant. It must be “fitly spoken;” as the golden apples are by the artificer duly fitted, so as to appear to the best advantage through the interstices of the silver. In order to a word’s being “fitly spoken,” it must be well-suited to the occasion and the character; must be welltimed; well-spirited; well-expressed. When a word-especially a word of reproof, the administering of which is so difficult and delicate a task-is, in all the senses mentioned, “fitly spoken,” there is blended with our sentiment of approbation the agreeable emotion of surprise and admiration.

• “The idea is that of a garment of precious stuff, on which is embroidered golden apples among picture-work of silver. Costly and precious was such a garment held to be; for besides the ornaments upon it, the material itself was of high value.” So Stuart, perhaps rightly. The general sentiment remains the same.

Verse Proverbs 25:12 . “As an earring of gold, and an ornament of fine gold, so is a wise reprover upon an obedient ear."-In tills comparison, as in the preceding, ornament and value are united. And, as the ornament selected is that of the ear, the comparison may be meant to convey the idea that an ear that listens obediently to instruction and reproof, is more valuably adorned than that which is ornamented with the most costly jewels.

When a reproof is both administered in wisdom and received in humility and in good part,-then there is a union of two equal rarities. A reproof well-administered is rare; and not less so is a reproof well taken. We may remark, however, that the rareness of the latter arises, to no small extent, out of the rareness of the former. It is because reproof is so seldom well-given, that it is so seldom well-taken.

How becoming-how truly ornamental, and worthy of admiration, the union here supposed! And then, how valuable! how really precious, in the effects resulting! There is first, the prevention, or the correction of evil. There is, secondly, the friendship, begun or confirmed, of the parties themselves; as says the Psalmist-“Let the righteous smite me, it shall be a kindness; and let him reprove me, it shall be an excellent oil, which shall not break my head: for yet my prayer also shall be in their calamities,” Psalms 141:5 . And there is, thirdly, the admiring and approving and affectionate attachment of all to both, and the beneficial influence of the good example. The jewel is both a credit to the artificer by whom it was fashioned, and an ornament to the person from whose ear it is suspended.

And if our ear, my brethren, should be open and obedient to the reproofs of fellow-creatures, O how much more to those of our divine Master and Lord! He is, indeed, a wise reprover. Grace was poured into his lips. All his instructions are true; all his promises faithful; all his precepts holy and just and good; all his admonitions gracious and kind. Obedience to him will ever be for our good; while to refuse his reproof, and to throw off and spurn away his yoke, is infatuation. For all the various situations of trial and difficulty, of temptation and perplexity, in which his people can be placed, he has “a word in season.” O how fitly spoken!-how good is it! how appropriate! how precious! Where is the child of God who has not experienced this? Let His words be valued by us as jewels of fine gold!

Verse Proverbs 25:13 . “As the cold of snow in the time of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to them that send him; for he refresheth the soul of his masters."-Snow in the time of harvest, and the cold accompanying it, would have been a very unnatural, unwonted, and unwelcome occurrence in Judea. It is to nothing of this kind that the allusion is made in the verse. It was the season of heat, often oppressively great. The comparison is taken from the use then made of snow, which had been preserved from the previous winter, in cooling their wines and other drinks, and thus rendering them deliriously refreshing. Snow was used, in a similar manner as ice is among ourselves. It was thus the means of providing refreshment from what without it could have yielded comparatively little. The meaning of the comparison is plain. The pleasure experienced by him who commissions a messenger to execute a trust, will ever be proportioned, when the message is faithfully, wisely, and successfully fulfilled, to the amount of importance attached to the commission, and the consequent degree of solicitude about the result;-and especially when any measure of despondency existed respecting it. When any business is managed, with such fidelity, sound judgment, and perseverance, as to recover and rectify what had almost been given up as hopeless,-then the heart that was dispirited and faint is revived; even as the overheated and exhausted labourer is refreshed, exhilarated, and animated for renewed toil by the snow-cooled beverage. One thing ought here to be remarked-that we are a great deal too prone to form our judgment of a messenger’s merits simply by his success. But this is often far from fair, whether the commission be one of public or of private business. There may be a large amount of fidelity, and of all the qualities of a disinterested and devoted messenger, where there is little success,-nay, where there is entire failure. All may be done, and done well, that could be done; and yet, through the character of the parties with whom he has to conduct the negotiation, and through circumstances utterly beyond his control, a messenger may not succeed. In some cases, indeed, there may be a much greater degree of praiseworthiness, where there has been failure, than where all has succeeded to a wish. In not a few instances, we should deal most unjustly, and measure out our commendations and rewards in most undue proportions, were success to be our sole criterion. It ought to be,-and with a truly generous and right-hearted master it always will be,-a source of satisfaction and gratification, to contemplate the completeness of the management, and the spirit with which all has been done for his interest, even though the issue be disappointment; and justice will make this the measure of desert.

Thus will God deal with His servants. Jesus was the Father’s messenger to the world. And he was “faithful to Him that appointed him.” And in contemplating him, in his person and in his work, He said of him-” Behold my servant, whom I uphold; mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth; I have put my spirit upon him: he shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles,” Isaiah 42:1 . The Apostles were Christ’s messengers to the world. They were like their divine Master in faithful devotedness. They “refreshed the soul of that Master.” He delighted in them and in their work. Through their instrumentality, he saw of the “travail of his soul, and was satisfied.” And he sees of it still.

O let us all, in our several spheres, be faithful to Him-“faithful even unto death,” and our faithfulness shall have a full and rich reward. How anxious should we all be, to commend ourselves to the Master, to whom we must stand or fall; to act under the influence of principles and motives which have his sanction; to do our duty well, from “faith working by love;” so that we may hear him say to us-“Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord!”

Proverbs 25:14-20

LECTURE LXXVIII.

Proverbs 25:14-20 .

“Whoso boasteth himself of a false gift is like clouds and wind without rain. By long forbearing is a prince persuaded, and a soft tongue breaketh the bone. Hast thou found honey? eat so much as is sufficient for thee, lest thou be filled therewith, and vomit it. Withdraw thy foot from thy neighbour’s house; lest he be weary of thee, and so hate thee. A man that beareth false witness against his neighbour is a maul, and a sword, and a sharp arrow. Confidence in an unfaithful man in time of trouble is like a broken tooth, and a foot out of joint. As he that taketh away a garment in cold weather, and as vinegar upon nitre; so is he that singeth songs to an heavy heart.”

The comparison in the first of these verses is a very obvious and a very apt one. “Clouds and wind” were, in that country, an ordinary presage of “rain.” * But there, as with ourselves, appearances might be very promising and prove deceitful-raising expectations, possibly after long, weary, and threatening drought, only to disappoint them, and so to increase vexation and apprehension. Thus it is with the man who boasts mightily of what he can do, and will do,-making large promises either without intention to fulfil them, or without ability.

• See 1 Kings 18:44-45 .

Such boasters talk as if all creation were at their disposal. Nothing too hard for them! their resources and their influence are without limits! When you apply to them for a favour, they are full of gasconade about what they have in their power; give you, with not a little exaggeration, instances of what they have done for others; and-O yes; there is no doubt of their ability; and what is there they would not do for you? But it is all words-big words; and the bigger if others besides yourselves are within hearing-but as light and empty as air-bubbles:-“clouds mid wind without rain.”

Others, from mere unwillingness to deny you, or to seem unkind, cannot find in their hearts to say No, and make hasty promises in plenty. But they are only to please yon for the time. They have not considered them; and, although it might be too strong to affirm, that they do not at the time mean what they say, yet neither can they be regarded as having any firm purpose of fulfilling it. Their kind words have served their present end;-have saved them the pain of refusing and disobliging you. But in practice they come to nothing. When your time of need arrives, what have you? They are in profession as kind as ever; and as their kindness before vented itself in promises, it is now not less abundant in apologies and regrets. They are so sorry-so very, very sorry;-and then you have a string of unsatisfactory BUTS-an enumeration of preventives:-“clouds and wind without rain.”

It may be regarded as a wise and safe rule, to trust the less, in proportion as a man is wide and boastful in his promises. Let your confidence be in the inverse ratio of the boasting. Genuine friendship deals not in such vauntings. Deeds are its characteristics, more than words. It acts quietly; lets its gifts fall silently and unostentatiously; neither talking much itself, nor ambitious of being talked about. It would infinitely rather come unexpectedly on its object with a seasonable interposition, than raise expectations beforehand by promises that may fail. True friendship-real goodness-may be described by a figure which forms a contrast to the one before us:-“When the clouds are full of rain, they empty themselves upon the earth,” Ecclesiastes 11:3 . Such clouds aptly represent faithful benefactors;-bountiful, unpretending, unostentatious friends.

Verse Proverbs 25:15 . “By long forbearing is a prince persuaded, and a soft tongue breaketh the bone.” “A soft tongue breaketh the bone,” is one of those short and pithy expressions of a general sentiment, which is the character of so many proverbs. What is the sentiment? Evidently, that gentle means are the most effectual. The reference is to cases of displeasure, and the means of pacifying it. It is true, that there is a great variety of tempers, and that these require to be dealt with in various ways. But in cases of resentment,-whether reasonable or unreasonable, with or without ground,-the sentiment will be found to hold good to a very great extent. By the pouring on of oil you may smooth the wave, which you would rebuke and lash in vain.

If the displeasure be well-founded,-that is, if we really have provoked and deserved it,-then gentleness, and submission, and apology are a clearly incumbent duty. What right can we have to take high what we have brought upon ourselves? Hard words, in such a case, would obviously be most incongruous and unprincipled; and they would have no other effect than that of exasperating passion. If, on the other hand, it be unreasonable,-when nothing on our part has been said or done to warrant it,-then the consciousness of not deserving it should sustain our minds in a dignified calmness, and restrain us from angry and violent expostulation or reviling. The most consistent frame of spirit, so far as we ourselves are concerned, and the best suited for conciliation and peace,-for disarming and subduing passion and pride, is a gentle and placid firmness. For it ought to be understood, that “a soft tongue” is not the tongue of weakness and silliness, that has not manliness enough to feel or to take its due and proper position:-neither is it a flattering, fawning tongue, that coaxes into conciliation by saying whatever will please, whether there be dignity, and self-respect, and truth in it, or not. The gentleness of temper, deportment, and speech, which the divine word inculcates, is perfectly consistent with firmness and energy of principle. It is not the gentleness of mean sycophantish pliancy, that is reckless of principle and consistency. Yet one almost fears to introduce these qualifications and admissions, lest undue advantage be taken of them to cover and excuse frames of spirit which neither the precepts nor the example of Jesus our Master would justify;-vindicating under the name of becoming manliness what He would condemn as pride,-and unyielding obstinacy under the well-sounding designation of decision of character. O! we need the grace of Christ to enable us to unite the qualities of firmness and gentleness, as they were united in Him.

Of the general sentiment we have a particular application in the former part of the verse:-“By long forbearance is a prince persuaded."-From his eminent station, and from being accustomed to obeisance, “a prince” may be supposed more than ordinarily touchy and jealous of his honour and authority,-more apt to stand upon the punctilio of due submission-more difficult than others of persuasion and conciliation. Petulance, forwardness, self-sufficiency, and passion, will only inflame him the more, and expose ourselves to the weight of his wrath. There must be no cringing meanness, no compromise of principle, no apologies for unreal faults,-which would be worse than stooping from the dignity which every man ought to maintain,-a dereliction in part of the claims of conscience: but still, we are bound to be, in all cases, respectful and mild; and if we are enabled thus to combine meekness and gentleness with adherence to principle, “the prince” may not only be won, but led to admire the consistency, that would not, for any selfish consideration, bend to unworthy compliances, and cringe and fawn for favour.

Verse Proverbs 25:16 . “Hast thou found honey? eat so much as is sufficient for thee, lest thou be filled therewith, and vomit it."-This language is evidently to be taken, in the proverbial use of it here, as significant of any worldly enjoyment. The language can hardly be applied to spiritual sweets. We do not meet, in the Bible, with warnings against excess in these. There is little risk of an extreme in that direction. But when the “honey” as here, is the emblem of earthly sweets, of mere temporal enjoyments,-there is great need for the caution,-a caution against excess in the desire, in the pursuit, and in the use of them. Pleasant they are in themselves; and God kindly gives us them to be enjoyed-to be received and used with gratitude and cheerfulness. But they must be enjoyed with a united sense of obligation and of dependence, and in the remembrance that all excess and all abuse involve a violation of the spirit of both.

Verse Proverbs 25:17 . “Withdraw thy foot from thy neighbour’s house; lest he be weary of thee, and so hate thee."-This is another lesson of moderation, though of a very different kind. It relates to the discreet use of the privilege of social and friendly intercourse. There is in this a prudence and a sense of propriety, which is indispensable to its cordial maintenance and its permanent constancy. It is one of those things in which there is no possibility of drawing precise lines,-prescribing the exact degree of frequency with which every relation, and friend, and neighbour should be visited, and the number of minutes each visit should last. All must be regulated by circumstances; and these circumstances may hardly in two cases be in every respect the same. Discretion and good sense must guide. But of these qualities there are some persons who have a very scanty portion. Such persons are to be found in both sexes. They are fond of incessant gossipping. They are ever on their round of calls and visits. Instead of being “keepers at home”-instead of “doing their own business”-they are, day after day, “going from house to house”-each morning planning their circuit. Or, when they are out, and “their neighbour’s house” is in their way, they cannot think of passing the door without just stepping in. They enter. They merely looked in in passing-they cannot sit down. But they are prevailed upon. And when once they are fairly set, they forget their haste. They are very loath to move. They talk of doing so twenty times before it is done; and many precious hours are lounged away in unprofitable idleness. If such persons have any thing in the form of a general invitation, in the common style of courtesy, they are sure to avail themselves of it to the uttermost, how slight and incidental soever it may have been. They never need a second. They continue to come, and come, and come,-consuming the time, disarranging the order, disturbing the enjoyment, and in some cases, living on the substance, of other families.

This becomes irksome. Their neighbours weary of them. They fret inwardly, when they make their appearance. Their liking to them cools; and by degrees positive alienation takes its place; and those whom at first they courteously and kindly made welcome, they actually cannot bear. They become, in one short but expressive, though perhaps sufficiently familiar word for this place-a * bore* . Delicacy, at the same time, forbids this to be plainly said; and such persons, having generally no great portion of such delicacy themselves, are exceedingly slow to discover it:-till at length rudeness becomes a matter of necessity; and hints,-gentle perhaps at first, but broader and broader till understood and taken,-are thrown out, that less frequent visits will be acceptable.

Our strongly condemnatory description of these persons must not drive others to the opposite extreme. For fear of the evil here supposed, some “withdraw their foot” altogether: they do not visit at all. This course is hardly less reprehensible than the former. Among all, and especially among fellow-Christians, it looks distant and dry. It is inconsistent with all the claims of friendship. A mutual exchange of visits, in the way of promoting mutual love and mutual advantage, is desirable, and is a duty. But assuredly, it is better to be blamed for the fewness of our visits, than for their frequency;-better far to be wished back than to be wished away. The persons I have been sketching ought to be discouraged. They are idle; and they encourage others to be idle. They are temptations, moreover, to different evils: to the common practice, for example, of what is called denying one’s self, or saying not at home: (which, let it be vindicated, disguised, palliated, apologized for as you will, is neither more nor less than direct and palpable lying) and secondly, to a large amount of hypocrisy-the dissembling of the real state of the feelings and the wishes; so that the scene may at times be presented-so inconsistent with “simplicity and godly sincerity”-of a grumble and a scowl when the unwelcome visitor’s knock comes to the door,-the exchange of this for the assumed looks and words of civility when the door opens and he enters;-and the “glad he’s gone!” as soon as his back is turned, and the door closes after him. Here then, as in every thing, let us “deal prudently;” and let us look for grace to enable us. Let our visits neither be unseasonably paid, nor unduly prolonged, nor too frequently repeated. And let such intercourse be maintained as shall at once keep alive the feeling and the principle of union. Above all, “let love be without dissimulation.”

On the following verse, I pause only to make two remarks:-First, the language expresses strongly the mischief done by the “false witness” to him against whom he bears his lying testimony-against whom he swears falsely. He is “a maul,* and a sword, and a sharp arrow.” He wounds and injures him by his lying words, as really, and in some respects, it may be, incomparably more seriously and irreparably, than if he were assailing him with the lethal weapons here alluded to. He may inflict wounds that cannot be cured, on his person, his substance, his credit, his character, his happiness, his life.-Secondly, such a man,-the man who has no conscience, no regard to truth, or regard to the well-being of others,-who is capable of swearing away by falsehood the name and interest and life and property of his neighbour-is a man whom all will shun and dread, as they would an armed enemy;-as they would the hand that brandishes in threatening attitude the instruments of mutilation and death.

• A maul is an English word now obsolete, signifying a heavy hammer or club.

Verse Proverbs 25:19 . “Confidence in an unfaithful man in time of trouble is like a broken tooth, and a foot out of joint."-Every one feels in a moment the truth and the force of this comparison-this double comparison. There are two obvious points in the similitude:-1. The unfaithful man, equally with the broken tooth and the dislocated foot, fails when put to use. You try your tooth upon your food; but you can make nothing of it:-you try your limb, for support and motion, but it will not serve you. So, you try the man by whose promises you have been encouraged to confide in him, and to look for good at his hand, but your confidence is vain. He fails you. He is the “broken tooth,” the “foot out of joint."-2. There is more than failure, there is pain; there is accompanying torture. The broken tooth, when you attempt to use it, and the disjointed foot, when you rest the weight of your body upon it, each causes intolerable agony. And such is the mental distress which is caused by the failure of confidence, in proportion to the degree in which you had cherished it. Especially is this felt “in time of trouble,” when help is peculiarly needed, and when a kind of claim, independently of all professions and promises, is felt to exist on sympathy and kindness. Then the heart is sensitively alive to aught like neglect and disappointment. To trust and be deceived is at any time a bitter trial. To trust in “the time of trouble” and be deceived, is the extreme of mental suffering.

How acutely did Paul feel the truth of the proverb when he wrote to Timothy-“At my first answer no man stood with me, but all men forsook me: I pray God that it may not be laid to their charge."-And did not our blessed Master feel it, when he said, “All ye shall be offended because of me this night:” and when, accordingly, in the hour of danger, “all his disciples forsook him and fled?"-and when he who had most solemnly protested his unconquerable adherence denied with oaths and curses that he knew Him?-O let us rejoice, that, whatever may come of our confidence in men, we have one sure, tried, everfaithful Friend, who never has deceived, and never can deceive; on whose word we may rely without fear; who will prove himself “a very present help in time of trouble;” then, in a special manner, when the need of it is most felt, vouchsafing His presence, the light of his countenance, his timely and effective aid.

Verse Proverbs 25:20 . “As he that taketh away a garment in cold weather, and as vinegar upon nitre; so is he that singeth songs to an heavy heart."-We may conceive a kind of suggestive association between this verse and the preceding. In the nineteenth we have the misery of disappointment when we have, “in time of trouble,” relied on the promises or the professions of friendship given by a man who then proves unfaithful. There is one description of distress in the time of suffering and trial; here we have another, though of a different kind;-the pain which is inflicted, especially on spirits of delicate sensibility, by the injudicious and incongruous administration of comfort,-both in the matter and in the manner of it. The figure, or comparison, here used to convey the idea of extreme unsuitableness, is a very strong and a very expressive one. I should rather say that both comparisons are so. The “taking away of a garment in cold weather,"-at the very time, that is, when an additional garment would be requisite for comfort,-would involve in it a combination of absurdity and cruelty. It would be exceedingly foolish and exceedingly unkind. In the second comparison, “nitre” does not mean the salt so called by us-saltpetre; but rather an alkaline substance, which was called by the Romans nitrum, and which, in a particular state of preparation, was used in Judea for soap. Vinegar, or any other acid, poured on this substance would, from the want of chemical affinity between them, produce effervescence; and this appears to be the similitude intended;-the want of affinity between the song of mirth and the spirit of heaviness. It is incongruous, disquieting, agitating. To sing merry songs to one whose heart is at the time under the pressure of grief, or even in the presence of the dejected and sorrowful, and especially when the sorrow is recent, and the mind has had no time to recover its tone and balance,-discovers mournful ignorance of human nature. These are extremes which can never meet. The very attempt to introduce all at once the lightness of mirth into a wounded and heavily-burdened heart, produces a revulsion, of which the necessary effect is only to render the sadness the deeper. And this effect arises, not merely from the contrariety between what is sung and the state of the spirit, but by the apparent want of feeling on the part of him who treats our sorrow thus. It is impossible to persuade ourselves that he feels with us or feels for us, when, instead of entering by a sympathetic tenderness into the true state of our minds, he discovers such lightness in his. And this painful apprehension is only a new and additional source of heaviness. Few things can operate more directly in this way, than to see one whose heart we expected to be in harmony with our own, manifesting so opposite a frame of mind. Some people are very thoughtless and injudicious in this respect. By trying to accomplish too sudden and violent a transition, they effectually frustrate their purpose, and, instead of alleviating, aggravate the evil. Even although not meant as a taunt, it is apt to have the effect of one; the effect so touchingly described in the case of the captives of Judah in Babylon:-“By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down; yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof. For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?” Psalms 137:1-4 .

No one who has studied the constitution of the human mind, will ever attempt (unless in some peculiar cases of mental derangement) to work upon it by violent transitions. He who does so will generally be even more than disappointed. The likelihood is that he will either augment what he intended to lessen, or give rise to some other effect not less to be deplored than the one meant to be remedied.

The same observations apply to all attempts to put down the spirit of melancholy-whether constitutional or induced-by the opposite extreme of merriment,-to banish grief by scenes of joviality. Persons under deep dejection may sometimes, by dint of importunity, be prevailed upon to go into the midst of a gay party, where all is hilarity,-all jest and song. But the very effort to assume an air of cheerfulness,-to join in the buoyant festivity and mirth, has been distressingly painful, and subsequent reflection on the incongruity (as they have felt it to be) between the scene and their circumstances, has sunk them the deeper afterwards,-through dissatisfaction with themselves.

With regard to any who can on purpose insult the sorrowing and heavy heart by the song of mirthful gaiety,-they are monsters-not men. They deserve not a place in the society of human beings.-And there is one description of mental distress, with which the world have not-and cannot be expected to have-any sympathy. They frequently indeed deal by it very roughly and cruelly-

“Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart

Already to sorrow resigned.”

I mean spiritual dejection. I will not give it the name of religious melancholy; for that is an unhappy misnomer, expressing what has no existence. There is no description of melancholy which in itself can with truth be called religious,-though there is much that may spring from subjects that bear a close affinity to religion. Melancholy and dejection of spirit arises, not from religion, but from the absence of it, or from defective and erroneous conceptions of it. Rightly understood, it is its only true and effectual cure. It is the light which, introduced into the mind, dissipates its darkness and dreariness. It is the balm that soothes, mollifies, and heals the wounded spirit. It is all restorative, all cheering. Trouble of spirit does arise from conviction of sin, and of exposure, on account of it, to “the wrath to come,” and from the secret, deep-felt, irrepressible apprehension of that wrath. But such conviction, such pain, such fear, are not religion. They are the very things which religion is designed and fitted to remove. The truth of the gospel-the message of mercy-understood and received in its divine authority and simplicity, sets all to rights. It dispels the gloom. It introduces the sunshine of joy. It stills the trembling heart. It dries the bitter tear, and sends after it the tear of delight and gratitude,-the drops of genuine penitential tenderness, mingling, as they always do, with those of calm, thankful, thrilling ecstasy. To the spirit that is loaded with a sense of guilt, and bowed to the dust by the apprehension of coming wrath, there is no song but one that can impart relief and joy,-none but one that can harmonize its jarring emotions, and soothe it to permanent peace. It is the song of the angels at the nativity of the Saviour-“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men,"-or of the redeemed multitude before the throne-for the spirit of both is the same-“Worthy is the Lamb that was slain”-“Thou art worthy, for thou hast redeemed us unto God by thy blood.” Let but that blood touch the heart, and all its alarms are hushed. The lips will be tuned to the notes of that song. It will “throw off its sackcloth, and gird itself with gladness.”

Proverbs 25:21-28

LECTURE LXXIX.

Proverbs 25:21-28 .

“If thine enemy be hungry, give him bread lo eat; and if he be thirsty, give him water to drink: for thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head, and the Lord shall reward thee. The north wind driveth away rain; so doth an angry countenance a backbiting tongue. It is better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, than with a brawling woman, and in a wide house. As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country. A righteous man falling down before the wicked is as a troubled fountain, and a corrupt spring. It is not good to eat much honey; so for men to search their own glory is not glory. He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls.”

The “honour which cometh from men,” and which men assert for themselves even at the sword’s point, is very diverse from the “honour which cometh from God,” and which He has enjoined on His children to covet. The one is the honour of pride,-the other of humility; the one the honour of allowing no injury to be unavenged,-the other of forgiving wrongs and covering the multitude of sins; the one the honour of the mere natural and conventional courage that exposes life for life, rather than allow the slightest or most imaginary affront to pass unavenged,-the other the moral courage that sets at nought the contempt of men rather than incur the displeasure of God.-In His eye, and in the eye of every holy being, a victory gained in the way prescribed by the opening verses of this passage, is incomparably more glorious than even the deepest humiliation of an adversary by an opposite course-by the wrath-breathing retaliations of pride. It is a double victory,-a victory over ourselves as well as over our enemy.*

• For further illustration, see Proverbs 24:17-18 ; Proverbs 24:29 (…).

In these remarks, I have taken for granted, what I believe to be the truth, that the words “for thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head” have reference, not to the fires of divine vengeance, but to the influence of kindly treatment melting down the enemy to conciliation, as fuel heaped on the ore fuses it from its hardness, and sends it forth in liquid streams, to take the features and impress of the mould.-A certain prince, on leading his generals and his army against an advancing host of invaders, declared his resolution not to leave a single enemy alive. He sent an embassy to treat with them. He made proposals such as subdued and attached them, and rendered them valuable allies. On astonishment being expressed that he should have thus failed in his determination and promise, his ready reply was-“I have not failed: I have kept my word. I engaged not to leave a living enemy; nor have I. They are enemies no longer-they are friends.” He had “heaped coals of fire on their head.”

Verse Proverbs 25:23 . “The north wind driveth away rain; so doth an angry countenance a backbiting tongue."-You will observe that the marginal rendering just reverses the meaning:-“The north wind bringeth forth rain; so doth a backbiting tongue an angry countenance.” Some critics insist on this being the true rendering. The latter words of the verse are certainly capable of either arrangement: and if the verb rendered “driveth away” would not bear that meaning, but required being translated as in the margin, then of course we should have to bow to the force of necessity. That rendering, however, is defended by other critics, as one of which the original word is susceptible. And I confess that if the word will bear it at all, it appears to me decidedly preferable. There is something tame, common-place, and of little practical consequence,-hardly worth forming the subject of a proverb,-in saying that as the north wind brings rain “a backbiting tongue” brings anger. But the verse, as it stands in our translation, inculcates a most important lesson-namely, the way to discourage and repress slander. “Backbiting” is a word which sufficiently conveys its own meaning. It is secretly traducing characters, by telling of them what is false, or even, for malicious purposes, by circulating clandestinely what is true. It is very generally accompanied with a hypocritical simulation of affection or admiration to the person’s face, while he is vilified in his absence. Some show much of this spirit of detraction. They never seem easy when they hear any one specially commended. They are ever disposed to throw in some qualifying insinuation,-something or other on the per contra side, to reduce the praise. They even appear to lay hold with delight on every opportunity to depreciate excellence; and particularly if there happens to be any kind of rivalry between the person who is the subject of commendation and themselves. O they do enjoy the bringing down of a rival! They spare no pains for this. And they often effect much in this way without uttering a word. A look, a wink, a shrug, a humph-can be made to convey a vast deal of meaning; and if the meaning be not explicit, so much the better. It is enough if suspicion is raised;-if the impression is made that there is something that is not right,-something which, if the eulogist but knew all, would go far to qualify his commendations.

On the other side, how sad the tendency in human nature to lend a ready ear to such! When the artful and practised backbiter, well aware of this, has by degrees got a willing listener, he goes on step by step-one thing after another-undermining and destroying the fair fame of the object of his dislike. He takes great care not to say too much all at once: that might shock and repel. He feigns reluctance. He is exceedingly concerned to be under the necessity of saying so; but truth obliges him. His object is, only to put you on your guard; to prevent your being led to any false course by taking up the representations of others, who happen not to know what he knows. He thinks it right at any rate that you should be made aware of the true state of the case,-that you may feel and act accordingly.

All such vile “backbiting” should he met with “an angry countenance.” It should be instantly frowned away; no willing ear being ever lent to the defamer. Were all to act thus, and to stop his mouth with an indignant and resolute rebuke, it would put down the evil, “as the north wind driveth away rain.”

O let not this spirit and this practice be so much as named amongst believers. It is utterly adverse to the entire genius of the Gospel, and to the precepts and example of the Lord of Christians. The religion of Jesus is the religion of love,-love even to enemies; the religion too of open day-light, and singleness of heart;-the religion of that charity which “thinketh no evil, which rejoiceth not in iniquity, hut rejoiceth in the truth.”*

• For the illustration of the following verse, the reader is referred to Proverbs 19:13 ; Proverbs 21:9 ; Proverbs 21:19 , &c.

Verse Proverbs 25:25 . “As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country.” A beautiful similitude! Its full import, no doubt, is best understood and felt in sultry climes. Yet even we can in some measure appreciate its propriety and force, if in the parching drought of summer we have ever slaked our thirst at the cooling spring, when oppressed by the heat and fatigue of a wearing-out journey. The very sight of such a spring is refreshment. It exhilarates the spirit, and gives new energy to the exhausted frame.

The simile is applicable to all “good news,"-especially to such as are more than ordinarily interesting to any of our natural and social affections; and in a peculiar manner, when the tidings are unexpected; more so still, when they come after long delay and corresponding anxiety,-when “hope deferred has made the heart sick;” when day after day,-week after week,-month after month, we have waited and longed, and sighed, and prayed, for favourable accounts, not of mere worldly property, but of lives, in which we feel as if our own were bound up. All! do we not then enter into the full soul of the comparison?

And how peculiarly applicable is it to that best news that ever greeted the ears of sinful men!-the news that came from the heaven of heavens to this our apostate world, and of which angels were the first messengers, when they cheered the timid and alarmed spirits of the shepherds of Bethlehem with the proclamation-“Fear not; for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people,"-and with that song of ravishing harmony, which, in the stillness of midnight, burst from ten thousand seraphic voices,-“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” How can it but be a delightful thing to us, to hear how these good tidings (which alas! to so many are vapid and uninteresting as a tale twice told) are now so extensively published in heathen lands,-lands of spiritual drought and dreariness,-“thirsty lands wherein is no water!"-to hear of the progress of truth-of its victories over error-of its converting, sanctifying, gladdening, civilizing, saving influence! How full of refreshing and cheering effect on our spirits are such tidings! They are, of all others, the richest and sweetest in pleasure to the Christian heart. The highest authority assures us, that “there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth.” Even there, it seems, the truth of this verse is experienced. When the “good news” of the progress of the Redeemer’s kingdom by the conversion of sinners, and the additions thus made to the number of its subjects, reach that “land that is afar off”-that “land of sacred liberty and endless rest,"-it is, to the blessed inhabitants, like a fresh draught from the “pure river of water of life.” And the holy joy is shared by the pilgrims below. It reanimates and braces their spirits, in prosecuting their journey heavenward, amidst all the difficulties, temptations, and trials of the way. If we do experience the delight, let us seek in earnest, by increasing liberality and zeal, to procure it more and more for ourselves!-The good tidings are designed to prepare sinners for the glorious country whence the tidings come, and to put them ultimately in happy possession of it. O sinner, prize those tidings. Hear, and believe them, that your soul may live!-Hear, and circulate them, that others may come to the same life;-the spiritual life on earth, introductory to the eternal life in heaven!

Verse Proverbs 25:26 . “A righteous man falling down before the wicked is as a troubled fountain and a corrupt spring.” Possibly this verse may have been suggested by the preceding in the arrangement, or copying out of the proverbs. There we have the refreshing influence on the soul of “good news” represented by the refreshing influence on the body of a draught of pure and wholesome water. But suppose a thirsty man, in high and longing expectation, comes to a fountain or a spring, and finds the fountain a puddle from agitation, or the spring embittered and poisoned by some nauseous and noxious ingredient-the disappointment is grievous. Such is our dissatisfaction, when “the righteous falls down before the wielded.”

The language has had different senses attached to it.-1. It has been understood of the righteous paying, whether from fear or from interest, undue homage to the wicked. There is miserable incongruity in this. It is a painful thing to witness; and it is injurious as well as painful-discovering an unworthy destitution of right principle, such as is fitted to produce very prejudicial effects on the minds of all, especially of the ungodly who witness the unseemly spectacle.-2. It has been understood of the righteous being subjected to the arbitrary and capricious power of the wicked-constrained to bend to his dictation and authority-deprived of his own will and freedom under the power of the unprincipled oppressor. This is the world turned upside down-the inversion of all that is right and seemly. The power should be with the righteous for the restraint of the wicked. The contrary is “like a troubled fountain and a corrupt spring.” It fails to produce the salutary effect which power properly lodged is fitted to produce. The fountains and springs of justice being by this means polluted and poisoned, society, instead of receiving benefit, ‘is injured accordingly.-But 3. The word in the original signifies to slip or stumble, so as to fall. And, as it bears this sense most naturally, I am inclined to understand the verse with those interpreters by whom it is explained of the righteous falling in a moral sense-falling into sin, in the presence of the wicked. This is, emphatically, “like a troubled fountain and a corrupt spring.” It disappoints our pleasing expectations of clear, sweet, refreshing water. From the righteous we look for an example that shall recommend religion-that shall draw others to its pure, and wholesome, and life-giving springs. When the conduct of professors, in presence of the ungodly, is such as to have the opposite tendency;-when its waters are turbid, and foul, and bitter, and, instead of inducing others to come to the fountain, serve to disgust and repel them-how incongruous-and how distressing!-Alas! that the incongruity should be so often seen!

The “troubled fountain and the corrupt spring” must send forth polluted, tainted, deadly streams. And so it is here. O! how much evil flows from the sins of God’s people! Look at the falls of David and Solomon themselves. From these “troubled fountains”-from these “corrupt springs”-streams of tainted and bitter waters have continued to flow from that day to this. The “man after God’s own heart,” and the " wisest of men,” have been the byword of the ungodly and sceptical in every age. How should this put us, and keep us, on our guard!

Verse Proverbs 25:27 . “It is not good to eat much honey; so for men to search their own glory is not glory.” You will observe, that in the latter clause of this verse, the words “is not” are supplementary,-being printed in Italics. They are evidently indispensable to complete the designed antithesis. The supplement seems to proceed on an admitted idiom in the Hebrew composition, according to which the negative in the former part of a sentence is carried forward and understood in the latter.* Honey is good, in moderation; a surfeit of it is injurious. (See Proverbs 5:16 .) In like manner, a regard to character and reputation,-a desire after a virtuous and honourable distinction,-is warrantable and right. It would be wrong for any man to be indifferent to what others think of him. It is not a matter connected with mere feeling. The usefulness of every man depends to a great degree upon the character he sustains. The only description of persons who may be considered as entitled to be regardless about character consists of those who have no character to lose.

• See for illustration Psalms 9:18 ; Psalms 75:5 ; Psalms 38:1 ; Psalms 44:18 .-The idiom may be applied for the explanation of a passage otherwise involving a painful and revolting difficulty. It is in the charge of David, when dying, to his son and successor Solomon ( 1 Kings 2:9 ). The not should he carried on to the last clause. And accordingly, the charge, so understood, corresponds precisely to the course which Solomon actually pursued. He allowed Shimei his life, under the limitation of his strictly confining himself within the city. To the condition Shimei assented. And it was not for his conduct to David, hut in consequence of his violating the stipulated terms on which his life had been granted, that he was afterwards put to death. This makes all consistent. The very terms of the change itself, connected with the previous reason or ground of it, requires this interpretation:-verse 1 Kings 2:8 .-(Author). Stuart disputes the application of the principle in this verse of Proverbs, and renders, “searching after one’s own glory is burdensome,” referring the original term in its second occurrence to the primary meaning of the Hebrew verb with which it is connected.

But there is an extreme; and to that extreme Solomon here refers. There is such a thing as vain glory. There is such a thing as a person’s indulging an insatiable appetite for applause and honour. There is such a thing as “searching it out,” looking ever after it, eager to get it, and touchily jealous of every omission to bestow it and every deficiency in its amount; exploring for it in every possible direction; listening with an ear on the alert to catch every breathing of adulation; fishing for praise; throwing out hints to draw it forth; eulogizing others, to tempt a return; saying things in disparagement of oneself, for the sake of having them contradicted,-things which, said by another, would stir the hottest of his blood.-The temper of mind may be put in exercise, in regard to greater and to smaller matters. It may assume the form of a proud ambition, or of a weak-minded vanity. But in either case it may with truth be said that “it is not glory."-A man’s honour should rather come to him, than be eagerly solicited and searched for. It should not be made his object. If we follow the example of Jesus,* we shall seek God’s glory as our first and constant aim, not our own. And this is the way to true glory; for He says-“him that honoureth me I will honour.”

• See John 7:18 ; John 8:50 ; John 5:41 .

The closing verse ( Proverbs 25:28 ) may be regarded as a kind of counterpart to the 32d verse of the sixteenth chapter ( Proverbs 16:32 ). There we have the wise man’s commendation of self-control; and here, under a very apt similitude, the evil effects of the want of it. “He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls.” Such a city is in a state of complete insecurity and exposure,-open to the assault, and the sure prey, of every invader. And to what can the man be more fitly compared, who is destitute of self-government,-swayed by the uncontrolled mastery of his angry and resentful temper! It is in every one’s power to take advantage of such a man; to get the better of him; to make him miserable. Any one knows how to provoke him. It is as easy as marching into a city whose defences are prostrate, whose walls are broken down. Thus any one who has a spite at the passionate man may satiate his malice to the full by touching the spring that is sure to throw him off his guard. He will then more surely expose himself, than his enemy, by all he had it in his power to say, could possibly do.

Further, Satan takes advantage of such a character. He is easy of access, and easy of capture. He can, with all facility, by touching his passions-by throwing a spark amidst the inflammable and fiery material within, lead him, or rather drive him, to sin,-making him the unconscious instrument of his evil purposes. By the indulgence of an angry spirit a man “gives place” to the devil. He opens to him the garrison of his heart. His spiritual state is in continual and imminent danger. His soul is exposed to every assault of every enemy and in hourly peril of being sacked and plundered of all that is dear to its feelings and its hopes:-“even like a city that is broken down, and without walls.”

One thing more. The temper described here is adverse to all prayer-a kind of interdict on fellowship with God. How can that fellowship be regularly maintained by a spirit that is ever liable to such perturbing excitation? We are commanded to “lift up holy hands, without wrath and doubting.” We are commanded, “when we stand praying, to ‘forgive’ if we have ought against any one.” O how many barriers, then, must come between the man of pride and passion and “the throne of grace!” How often must the intercourse be interrupted!-how often must he be unable to bend the knee or to open the lip, in the presence of his God! And what a motive is this to seek divine aid to subdue the spirit of pride and anger, and to acquire that of calm and steady self-command!