described in Job xviii. 15.--_Muffet._

The righteous shall "have a place in the Lord's house," immovable
here (Isa. lvi. 4, 5), and in eternity (Rev. iii. 12).--_Bridges._

Solomon had a signal exemplification of this in the case of _Saul_
and his father _David._ Possibly this instance might be in his eye at
the time.--_Wardlaw._

Eventually there must be _overthrow,_ even if it be no overthrow but
death. When the wicked do fall, there is positively _nothing of them
left._ While in the deepest disasters of the righteous, nothing is
not _left. "His house,"_ and by that is meant every possible real
interest (1 Sam. ii. 35) shall stand for ever.--_Miller._

Verse 8. Sometimes, and very often, the wicked shall commend him,
commonly the righteous, and always the Lord Himself, but most of all
at the last day, before all men and angels. They that are not void of
uprightness shall not be destitute of praise and honour. Though some
be blind that they cannot discern their understanding and graces, yet
others have their eyesight and behold them. Though some be dumb and
will not speak of their virtues, yet others have their lips open to
commend them.--_Dod._

And all wisdom consists in this, that a man rightly know and worship
God. Apollonius, Archimedes, and Aristotle were wise in their
generations, and so accounted, but by whom? Not by St. Paul, he hath
another opinion of them (Rom. i. 22). Not by our Saviour (Matt.
xi. 25).--_Trapp._

_According_--"in exact proportion;" such as the meaning of the
Hebrew. A man is more applauded for good sense than perhaps anything
else. _Wisdom_--"shrewdness;" that attribute that leads to success.
Therefore it sometimes means success (2 Kings xviii. 7). Successful
shrewdness is a very positive sort. Such is the shrewdness of the
righteous man (ver. 7). _Perverse heart_--"crooked sense," literally
_heart;_ though heart contains more of sense (νοʊς) than we ascribe
to it. If a man whose mind works crookedly every time becomes an
object of contempt, why ought not the wicked to become so, whose very
helmsmanships are a deceit? (ver. 5).--_Miller._

How thrilling will be the _commendation of wisdom_ before the
assembled universe! (Luke xii. 42-44). Who will not then acknowledge
the _wise_ choice of an earthly cross with a heavenly
crown?--_Bridges._

This is capable of two interpretations. It may refer to commendation
by _men,_ or to commendation by _God._ In the one case it may mean
mere _secular discretions,_ in the other it must mean _religious
principle,_ according to the invariable testimony that "the fear of
the Lord, that is wisdom." This is not the wisdom that secures the
eulogy of men; but it will ever secure that of the infinitely Wise,
the Infinitely Good. And, indeed, the two things may be united. A man
who fears God will always be a _faithful_ counsellor, and if at the
same time he have sound discretion in regard to the affairs of life,
this will form the perfection of character, and there will be
commendation both from _men_ and _God._ . . . In the pride of your
hearts, you may affect to hold very cheap the contempt of men; though
even that is often mere pretension than reality, disappointment
rankling at the heart, while scorn is curling the lip. But what must
it be to be "lightly esteemed" at last, to be "despised" by that God
who has in his hands the destinies of the universe!--_Wardlaw._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 9.

SHOW AND REALITY.

Whichever rendering we adopt of this verse the subject is the
same--that of one man's allowing his vanity, his love for
appearances, to rob him of all real comfort, and that of his wiser
brother's preference of comfort to outside show.

+I. The wise man who is despised.+ Men who have the moral courage to
live in a simple style, and to labour with their own hands, will
certainly be regarded with contempt by some, but by whom? By those
whose good opinion and honour is not worth having. Children are taken
with what is showy on the surface--they have little regard for what
lies underneath. They will be more delighted with a soap-bubble than
with a diamond. But _men_ look on things with different eyes. So it
is only men and women of childish minds who estimate a man by his
clothes, his house, or his establishment, and it is only such who
will despise the first man mentioned in the text. If we take the
common rendering of the verse, then this man is more useful to
society than the other; for, instead of spending all his money on
himself, he keeps a servant, and so gives another a means of living.
For as it is implied that he does not lack bread himself, so he will
not let those in his employ want the necessaries of life. Other
things being equal, the man who, by a judicious use of his means,
gives employment to others, is a greater benefactor to his race than
he who spends his money in selfish luxury. At any rate, this man is a
wiser man than the other, for he has the good sense to prefer the
greater to the less. It is only obeying a natural instinct to satisfy
the bodily wants, and to supply ourselves with all the substantial
comforts of life before we spend money on things which do not, after
all, add in the least to our real enjoyment, and yet the majority of
men do sacrifice some of the former to the latter. He who has the
moral courage not to do so shows his real wisdom. And by such a
course of conduct he blesses others as well as himself--he does
something to stem the tide of passion for keeping up appearances
which in our age and country is the fruitful source of so much crime
and misery--he, and he only, is the truly honest man, for he is
content to pass for just what he is as to wealth.

+II. The foolish and wicked man who "honours himself."+ 1. _He is a
fool._ Vanity is one of the most despicable passions that can possess
a man--it often leads a man to the most childish actions. No man of
modern times was more entirely under its dominion than Voltaire,
whose only aim in life seemed to be to gain that unsubstantial homage
which afforded his spirit at the last such an unsatisfying portion.
He did not literally lack bread, but he did find himself in his old
age without anything which could give him any real comfort. The man
mentioned in our text is so bent upon obtaining this false honour
that he will "lack bread"--suffer positive bodily discomfort--rather
than not obtain it. 2. _He is a sinner._ He lies in action, if not in
word. While he is resorting to the meanest shifts in secret he is
trying to make people believe that he is much better off than he
really is. By stinting himself in the common comforts of life he sins
against his own body and against his creator, for "the Lord is for
the body" (1 Cor. vi. 13), and it is man's duty to feed that house of
the soul which is so "fearfully and wonderfully made" (Psa.
cxxxix. 14). He therefore sins against himself and against society.
It is worth while to inquire whether anybody will honour him after
all his foolish efforts. God cannot, for He hates all hypocrisy. Men
may, for their own interest, flatter him, and feign to respect him,
but he will obtain no real honour, either from men like him in
character, or from those who are better and wiser. "I have read,"
says Thomas Adams, "of Menecrates, a physician that would needs be
counted a god, and took no other fee of his patients than their vow
to worship him. Dionysius Syracusanus, hearing of this, invited him
to a banquet, and, to honour him according to his desire, set before
him nothing but a censer of frankincense, with all the smoke whereof
he was feasted till he starved, while others fed on good meat." Such
smoke as this is all the return such a man as the one pictured in
this proverb will get for starving himself, and for sinning against
his own body, against society, and against God.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

We give a few of the many renderings of this verse:--

Better is he that laboureth and aboundeth in all things than he that
boasteth himself and lacketh bread.--_Wordsworth._

This proverb, like xv. 17, commends the middle rank of life with its
quiet excellencies. A man of lowly rank, who is, however, not so poor
that he cannot support a slave, is better than one that boasts
himself and is yet a beggar. The first necessity of an Oriental in
only moderate circumstances is a slave, just as was the case with the
Greeks and Romans.--_Delitzch._

Better is the condition of the poor man, who has the means under his
control of aiding his exertions for sustenance, than the nobleman,
real or fancied, who is in a state of starvation.--_Stuart._

Each interpretation is tenable grammatically. (1) He whom men
despise, or who is "lowly" in his own eyes (the word is used by David
himself, 1 Sam xviii. 23), the trader, the peasant, if he has a
slave, _i.e.,_ if he is one step above absolute poverty, and has
someone to supply his wants, is better off than the man who boasts of
rank or descent, and has nothing to eat. Respectable mediocrity is
better than boastful poverty. (2) He who, though despised, is a
servant to himself, _i.e._ supplies his own wants, is better than the
arrogant and helpless.--_Plumptre._

Some do think it more miserable to be known to be miserable than to
be so, and are more grieved to be disesteemed for it than to be
pinched by it, wherefore they will feed the eyes of others with a
show of plenty, although they have not bread to feed themselves. But
he is better who, disesteeming the esteem of others and being servant
to himself, does get his own bread, and is contented with it. For as
he is servant, so is he master also; and howbeit he serveth, yet it
is at his own pleasure. And this is his comfort, that while he
serveth himself he hath to serve his need and occasions, when he that
_honoureth himself_ is fain at last to live by others. Or else take
the meaning thus: the ambitious itch of many is so great, and so
disquieteth their hearts, that they can lack anything, even bread
itself, rather than honour and preferment; so that when they are
swollen big in greatness and dignity they are even starved in their
estate, and have not of their own the next meal to feed themselves.
But better is he, especially if he be a good man, who--having to keep
himself and a servant--doth keep within his means; and though he be
_despised_ by them that overlook him, yet he looks upon himself with
thanks to God that it is so well with him. And, indeed, how can this
man but be better than the other, when his servant is better than the
other is. For as Chyrsostom speaketh, it cannot be but that he who is
the slave of glory should be servant of all, yea, more vile than all
other servants. For there is no servant commanded to do such base
things as the love of glory commandeth him.--_Jermin._

The son of Sirach, who may well be called an interpreter of this book
of the Proverbs, hath a very like saying to this where he speaketh
thus, "Better is he that worketh and aboundeth with all things, than
he that boasteth himself, and wanteth bread" (Ecclus.
x. 27).--_Muffet._

When men are such slaves to the opinion of the world, they rebel
against Him who makes no mistake in His allotments and often appoints
a descent from worldly elevation as a profitable discipline (Jas.
i. 10, 11; Dan. iv. 32-37). Yet it is hard, even for the Christian,
as Bunyan reminds us, "to go down the valley of humiliation and catch
no slip by the way." We need our Master's unworldly elevated spirit
(John vi. 15) to make as safe descent. . . . "Let our moderation be
known unto all men," under the constraining recollection, "The Lord
is at hand" (Phil. iv. 5). How will the dazzling glory of man's
esteem fade away before the glory of His appearing!--_Bridges._

Paul travelling on foot, and living on the wages of a tent-maker, was
more respectable than the pretended successor of his brother apostle,
with a triple crown upon his head.--_Lawson._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 10.

CARE FOR ANIMALS AND CRUELTY TO MEN.

Even the animal is benefited by being related to a righteous man.

+I. The righteous man regardeth the life of his beast.+ 1. _Because
of the entire dependence of the creature upon him._ Animals which are
the property of man are entirely at his mercy. They have no power to
change a bad master for a good one--no voice to utter their
complaints--no means of getting redress for their wrongs. All these
considerations tend to make a good man care for them, for the
righteous man's sympathies are always drawn out in proportion to the
need of the object. And with regard to the animal creation, it may be
that the present life is the only opportunity a man may have of
showing kindness to them. If, on the other hand, animals live in
another world, it may be all the better for men to treat them well
here. 2. _Because of his dependence upon his beast._ Men are very
largely indebted to animals for the sustaining of their life--it
would be very difficult for the work of the world to be carried on
without their help; man would certainly have to labour much harder if
they had it not. Therefore, the righteous man feels that he is paying
_a debt_ when he "regards the life of his beast." 3. _Because the
animal is an object of Divine care._ The Bible has many references to
the brute creation, and many passages which show that "_God_
regardeth the life of the beast." Christ tells us that not a
_sparrow_ falls to the ground without His Father's notice, and God
has given special commands with reference to the care of dumb
creatures. _"Thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the
corn"_ (Duet. xxv. 4). Seeing, then, that "God doth care for oxen," a
righteous man will do likewise. 4. _Because of the lessons that may
be learned from the animal creation._ God often sends man to learn of
them (see Isa. i. 3; Jer. viii. 7), and much suggestive teaching may
be got from observation of their dispositions and habits. It would be
ingratitude not to repay them with considerate care.

+II. The wicked man is cruel.+ Wickedness is, in its nature,
destitute of kindliness. The sea is by nature salt, and its saltiness
makes it unfit to sustain human life. The father of wickedness is a
cruel being--his only aim is to increase the misery of the universe.
All his children have partaken more or less of his character since
the first human murderer killed his brother. It is said here that
even his acts of mercy are cruel. History gives many instances of men
whose so-called acts of mercy were only refined cruelties. It follows
that if wicked men are cruel to their fellow-creatures--to men and
women of their own flesh and blood, they will be even more
indifferent to the welfare of creatures below man.

_ILLUSTRATIONS._

Sir Robert Clayton, as commander of a troop of British cavalry, which
after service on the Continent was disbanded in the city of York, and
the horses sold, could not bear to think that his old
fellow-campaigners, who had born brave men to battle, should be
ridden to death as butcher's hacks, or worked in dung-carts till they
became dogs' meat, he therefore purchased a piece of ground upon
Knavesmire heath, and turned out the old horses to have their run for
life. What made this act to be the longer had in remembrance, was the
curious fact, that one day, when these horses were grazing, a
thunder-storm gathered, at the fires and sounds of which, as if
mistaken for the signs of approaching battle, they were seen to get
together and form in line, almost in as perfect order as if they had
their old masters on their backs.

Sir James Prior tells us, in the last year of the life of Burke, that
a feeble old horse which had been a favourite with young Richard--now
dead--and his constant companion in all his rural journeyings and
sports, when both were alike healthful and vigorous, was turned out
to take the run of the park at Beaconsfield during the remainder of
his life, the servants being strictly charged not to ride or in any
way molest him. This pour worn-out steed it was that one day drew
near to Burke, as the now childless and decrepit statesman was musing
in the park, and after some moments of inspection, followed by
seeming recollection and confidence, deliberately rested his head
upon the old man's bosom. The singularity of the action, the
remembrance of his dead son, its late master, and the apparent
attachment and intelligence of the poor brute, as if it could
sympathise with his inward sorrows, rushing at once into his mind,
totally overpowered his firmness, and throwing his arms over its
neck, he wept long and loudly.

John Howard writing home from the Lazaretto, himself sick and a
prisoner: "Is my chaise-horse gone blind or spoiled? Duke is well, he
must have his range when past his labour; not doing such a cruel
thing as I did with the old mare. I have a thousand times repented of
it."--_Jacox._

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

What a cruelty of the wicked is, at its words, words might seem
wanting to show, after it has been said that the tender mercies of
the wicked are cruel. But "a righteous man regardeth the life of his
beast." Jacob, as flock-master, is studiously careful for his flocks
and herds as well as for his tender children; "if men should
over-drive them one day, all the flock would die;" so "I will lead on
softly," said he to Esau, "according as the cattle that goeth before
me is able to endure." The angel of the Lord standing in the way,
rebukes Balaam for smiting his ass three times: that unrighteous man,
wishing there were a sword in his hand, too literally regardeth not
the life of his beast. . . . We certainly ought not, pleads Plutarch,
to treat living creatures like shoes or household goods, which, when
worn out with use, we throw away; and, were it only to learn
benevolence to human kind, we should be merciful to other creatures.
To be kind to these our fellow-lodgers is common humanity. To be
cruel to them is to be below it. It is almost, if not quite, to be a
little lower than themselves. It is, maintains, Sir Arthur Helps, an
immense responsibility that Providence has thrown upon us in
subjecting these sensitive creatures to our complete sway, and he
avowedly trembles at the thought of how poor an answer we shall have
to give, when asked the question how we have made use of the power
entrusted to us over the brute creation. . . . The question of
interposing law has been a vexed one, upon which the humanest have
differed. . . . So hard-headed and cool-headed a thinker as Stuart
Mill is decisive and incisive in his arguments in favour of legal
intervention. Mr. Lecky's suggestion of a doubt whether cruelty to
animals can be condemned on utilitarian grounds, is met by the
obvious answer that a utilitarian may rationally include in his
definition of the greatest number whose happiness is to be the aim of
human beings, not only human beings themselves, but all animals
capable of being happy or the reverse; besides which it is urged
that, even if we limit our view to the good of our own species, the
argument is as strong as can be desired. "If the criminality of an
action were to be measured simply by its direct effects on human
happiness, we might probably urge that the murderer of a grown-up man
was worse than the murderer of a child, and far worse than the
torturer of a dumb animal. Yet, as a matter of fact, we should
probably feel a greater loathing for a man who could torment a beast
for his pleasure than for one who should ill-use one of his equals."
For such cruelty is held to indicate, as a rule, a baser nature. A
murderer, though generally speaking a man of bad character, is not of
necessity cowardly or mean; he may not improbably show some courage,
and possibly even some sensibility to the nobler emotions. The
tormenter of animals, on the other hand shows callousness of nature,
a pleasure in giving pain for the sake of giving pain, which has
about it something to be described as devilish. . . . John Foster
declared it to be a great sin against moral taste to mention
ludicrously, or for ludicrous comparison, circumstances in the animal
world which are painful and distressing to the animals that are in
them; the simile, for instance, "Like a toad under a
harrow."--_Jacox._

Lit. "knoweth." The Authorised Version gives the right application,
but the words remind us that all true sympathy and care must grow out
of knowledge. The righteous man tries to _know_ the feelings and life
even of the brute beast, and so comes to care for it. _"Tender
mercies."_ Better "the feelings, the emotions" all that should have
led to mercy and pity towards man. The circle expands in the one
case, narrows in the other.--_Plumptre._

When the pulse of kindness beats strong in the heart the warm stream
is sent clean through the body of the human family, and retains force
enough to expatiate among the living creatures that lie beyond. . . .
Cruelty is a characteristic of the wicked in general, and in
particular of antichrist--that one, wicked by pre-eminence, whom
Christ shall yet destroy by the brightness of His coming. By their
fruits ye shall know them. The page of history is spotted with the
cruelties of papal Rome. The red blood upon his garments is generally
the means of discovering a murderer. The trailing womanish robes of
the papal high priest are deeply stained with the blood of the
saints. The same providence which employs the bloody tinge to detect
the common murderer has left more lasting marks of Rome's cruelty.
The Bartholomew massacre, for example, is recorded in more enduring
characters than the stains of that blood which soaked the soil of
France. The pope and his cardinals rejoiced greatly when they heard
the news. So lively was their gratitude that they cast a medal to
record it on. There stands the legend, raised in brass and
silver--_"Strages Huguenotorum"_ (the slaughter of the Huguenots)--in
perpetual memory of the delight wherewith that wicked antichrist
regarded the foulest butchery of men by their fellows that this
sin-cursed earth has ever seen. That spot will not out with all their
washings.--_Arnot._

It is better to be the beast of a righteous man than the son of a
wicked man; nay, it is better to be the beast of a righteous man than
to be a wicked man. For the righteous will do right unto his beast;
the merciful man hath sense of mercy wheresoever is sense of misery,
and while in mercy he regardeth the life of the beast that is beneath
him, he is made like unto God, who is so far above him. But the
wicked man's tender mercies are "mercies of the cruel," or else his
tender mercies are cruel, hurting as much as severe cruelty; and
therefore many times a wicked father's fond affection is the utter
undoing of a petted child, and sparing pity, where evil should be
chastised, is the breeding nurse of mischief which cannot be helped.
The fond mercies whereby the wicked favoureth himself in sloth and
idleness, whereby he pleaseth himself with pleasures and delights,
whereby he pampereth himself with delicate and luscious meats,
whereby he restraineth not his lusts and desires--what are they but
cruelties whereby he tormenteth his body with sickness and quickly
killeth it, and whereby he wilfully destroyeth his soul.--_Jermin._

The worldly care of a high prosperous man may seem very tender to
those dependent on him and towards others; but the very tenderness of
an impenitent example is the higher snare, the tender mercies of the
wicked are cruel. . . . Religion has no austerities that make a true
saint careless of the life or feelings even of his _beast._ On the
contrary, it breeds the most pervading tenderness; whereas the wise
worldling, however careful of his home and tender towards all who
have any claim upon his care, yet in admitting that there is a hell,
and neglecting all prayer for his household, and all example, except
one that braves the worst, breeds children simply to destroy
them.--_Miller._

The tender mercies of the wicked are when base and guilty men are
spared that should be smitten with the sword of justice. Pity of this
sort is more cruel than cruelty itself. For cruelty is exercised upon
individuals, but the pity, by granting impunity, arms and sends forth
against innocent men the whole army of evil doers.--_Lord Bacon._

We have been used to hear much of the benevolence of infidels and the
philanthropy of deists. It is all a pretence. Self is the idol and
self-indulgence the object, in the accomplishment of which they are
little scrupulous about the means. Where self is the idol, the heart
is cruel. While they talk of universal charity, they regard not the
cruelty of robbing thousands of the consolations of religion. . . .
While they speak of harmless gaiety and pleasure they would
treacherously corrupt piety and pollute unsuspecting
innocence.--_Holden._

The word "regard" is of twofold application, and may either apply to
the moral or the intellectual part of our nature. In the one it is
the regard of attention; in the other it is the regard of sympathy or
kindness. But we do not marvel at the term having been applied to two
different things, for they are most intimately associated. They act
and re-act upon each other. If the heart be very alive to any
particular set of emotions the mind will be alert in singling out the
peculiar objects which excite them; so, on the other hand, that the
emotions be specifically felt the objects must be specifically
noticed. . . . So much is this the case that Nature seems to have
limited and circumscribed our power of noticing just for the purpose
of shielding us from too incessant a sympathy. . . . If man, for
instance, looked upon Nature with a microscopic eye his sensibilities
would be exposed to the torture of a perpetual offence from all
possible quarters of contemplation, or, if through habit these
sensibilities were blunted, what would become of character in the
extinction of delicacy of feeling? . . . There is, furthermore, a
physical inertness of our reflective faculties, an opiate infused, as
it were, into the recesses of our mental economy, by which objects,
when out of sight, are out of mind, and it is to some such provision,
we think that much of the heart's purity, as well as its tenderness,
is owing; and it is well that the thoughts of the spirit should be
kept, though even by the weight of its own lethargy, from too busy a
converse with objects which are alike offensive and hazardous to
both. . . . But there is a still more wondrous limitation than
this. . . . The sufferings of the lower animals may be in sight, and
yet out of mind. This is strikingly exemplified in the sports of the
field, in the midst of whose varied and animating bustle that
cruelty, which is all along present to the senses, may not, for one
moment, be present to the thoughts. . . . It touches not the
sensibilities of the heart, but just because it is never present to
the notice of the mind. The followers of this occupation are reckless
of pain, but this is not rejoicing in pain. Theirs is not the delight
of savage, but the apathy of unreflecting creatures. . . . We are
inclined to carry this principle must further. We are not sure if,
within the whole compass of humanity, fallen as it is, there be such
a thing as delight in suffering for its own sake. But, without
hazarding a controversy on this, we hold it enough for every
practical object that much, and perhaps the whole of the world's
cruelty, arises not from the enjoyment that is felt in consequence of
others' pain, but from the enjoyment that is felt in spite of
it. . . . But a charge of the foulest delinquency may be made up
altogether of wants or of negatives; and just as the human face, by
the mere want of some of its features, although there should not be
any inversion of them, might be an object of utter loathsomeness to
beholders, so the human character, by the mere absence of certain
habits or sensibilities which belong ordinarily and constitutionally
to our species, may be an object of utter abomination in society. The
want of natural affection forms one article of the Apostle's
indictment against our world; and certain it is enough for the
designation of a monster. The mere want of religion is enough to make
a man an outcast from his God. Even to the most barbarous of our kind
you apply, not the term of anti-humanity, but of inhumanity--not the
term of anti-sensibility; and you hold it enough for the purpose of
branding him for general execration that you convicted him of
complete and total insensibility. . . . We count it a deep atrocity
that, unlike to the righteous man of our text, he simply does not
regard the life of a beast. . . . The true principle of his
condemnation is that he ought to have regarded. . . . Our text rests
the whole cause of the inferior animals on one moral element, which
is in respect of principle, and on one practical method, which is, in
respect of efficacy, unquestionable: "A righteous man regardeth the
life of his beast." Let a man be but righteous in the general and
obvious sense of the word, and let the regard of his attention be but
directed to the case of the inferior animals, and then the regard of
his sympathy will be awakened to the full extent at which it is
either duteous or desirable. . . . The lesson is not the circulation
of benevolence within the limits of one species. It is the
transmission of it from one species to another. The first is but the
charity of a world; the second is the charity of a universe. Had
there been no such charity, no descending current of love and
liberality from species to species, what would have become of
ourselves? Whence have we learned this attitude of lofty unconcern
about the creatures who are beneath us? Not from those ministering
spirits who wait upon the heirs of salvation. . . . Not from that
mighty and mysterious visitant who unrobed Him of all His glories,
and bowed down His head unto the sacrifice, and still, from the seat
of His now exalted mediatorship, pours forth His intercessions and
His calls in behalf of the race He died for. Finally, not from the
eternal Father of all, in the pavilion of whose residence there is
the golden treasury of all those bounties and beatitudes that roll
over the face of nature, and from the footstool of whose empyreal
throne there reaches a golden chain of providence to the very
humblest of His family.--_Chalmers._

     He prayeth best who loveth best
       All things both great and small;
     For the dear God that loveth us,
       He made and loveth all.--_Coleridge._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 11.

SATISFACTION FROM TILLAGE.

+I. Satisfaction as the result of tillage depends--+1. _Upon the
performance of a Divine promise._ It is long ago since God gave Noah
the promise that "While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest,
and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not
cease" (Gen. ix. 22), and it has been so invariably fulfilled that
men have come to forget upon whom they are depending--in whom they
are exercising faith--when they plough the ground and sow the seed.
God's regularity in His performance has bred in men a contempt for
the promise and the promise maker. Men speak of the laws of nature
and ignore the fact that it is by the Word of the Lord that the "rain
cometh down and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but
watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may
give seed to the sower and bread to the eater" (Isa. lv. 10). But so
it is. The promise is the power that set the laws in motion at first
and that have kept them in motion ever since. There can be no tillage
without dependence upon God either acknowledged or unacknowledged.
The promise is an absolute one, and implies power in God to fulfil it
to the end of time. It can never fail unless God's power fail, or
unless He break His Word; these are blessed impossibilities with Him.
Therefore, so far as God is concerned the _shall_ of the text is
absolute. But it depends likewise--2. _Upon man's fulfilment of their
duties._ First, it is not _all_ tillage that will satisfy a man with
bread, the tillage must be painstaking and intelligent. The promise
of God does not set aside the necessity for the man to be very
laborious and to study carefully the nature and needs of the soil
which he tills. Agriculture is a science which must be acquired--a
man must learn how to till the ground. God claims to be man's
instructor in this matter (Isa. xxviii. 26). Then, again, it must be
_his_ land that he tills, not land taken by fraud or violence from
another. Neither if a man tills the land of another as his servant is
he always paid sufficient wages to be satisfied with bread. But this
is the greed of man interfering with God's ordination.

+II. The promise suggests symbolic teaching.+ We may look at it in
relation to the human spirit. As land must be ploughed and sown with
painstaking intelligence if a man is to have the satisfaction of
reaping a harvest, so the human soul must be the object of spiritual
tillage if it is ever to yield any satisfaction to God or man. There
is very much to be got out of the land, but no man can obtain the
full blessing unless he cultivate it. So it is with the man himself.
A human soul left to lie barren can never become as a "field which
the Lord hath blessed." 1. It must be prepared to receive the words
of God. The "fallow ground" must be broken up, lest the sowing be
"among thorns" (Jer. iv. 3), or the seed fall where it can find no
entrance (Hosea x. 12; Matt. xiii. 4). 2. Good seed must be sown. The
word of God (Mark iv. 14), that "incorruptible seed" by which men are
"born again" (1 Pet. i. 23). 3. And the spiritual sower must be
persevering and prayerful. It is true of natural tillage that "He
that observeth the wind shall not sow; and he that regardeth the
clouds shall not reap" (Eccles. xi. 4); it is equally so of
soul-husbandry. The world, the flesh, and the devil will be always
putting difficulties in the way of a man's caring for his "own soul."
But these obstacles must be surmounted, and if the seed is watered by
prayer God will assuredly send down the rain of the Holy Ghost.
4. And in spiritual tillage there is also a certainty of
satisfaction. This also depends upon not _one_ Divine promise but
upon many--upon the revelation of God as a whole. (Upon the opposite
character--him "that followeth vain persons," or vanity, instead of
tilling his land or his spiritual nature--see Homiletics on chapters
vi. 11 and x. 5, pages 79 and 147.)

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

We might have expected that the antithesis of the second clause would
have ended with "shall lack bread," but the real contrast goes
deeper. Idleness leads to a worse evil than that of
hunger.--_Plumptre._

Vain persons or "_empty people_"--most signally the impenitent--for
they are empty of all good. "That follows after empty people" is a
fine characteristic of the impenitent man's decline. Following others
is the commonest influence to destroy the soul.--_Miller._

Special honour is given to the work of tilling the land. God assigned
it to Adam in Paradise. It is the employment of his eldest son. In
ancient times it was the business or relaxation of kings. A blessing
is ensured to diligence, sometimes abundant, always such as we should
be satisfied with.--_Bridges._

Of all the arts of civilised man agriculture is transcendently the
most essential and valuable. Other arts may contribute to the
comfort, the convenience, and the embellishment of life, but the
cultivation of the soil stands in immediate connection with our very
existence. The life itself, to whose comfort, convenience, and
embellishment other arts contribute, is by this sustained, so that
others without it can avail nothing.--_Wardlaw._

The only two universal monarchs practised husbandry. . . . Some
people think that they cannot have enough unless they have more than
the necessaries and decent comforts of life: but we are here
instructed that bread should satisfy our desires. Having food and
raiment, let us be therewith content. There are few that want these,
and yet few are content. . . . To be satisfied with bread is a happy
temper of mind, and is commonly the portion of the man of industry,
which not only procures bread, but gives it a relish unknown to men
that are above labour.--_Lawson._

Sin brought in sweat (Gen. iii. 19), and now not to sweat increaseth
sin. . . . _"But he that followeth vain persons,"_ etc. it is hard to
be a good fellow and a good husband too.--_Trapp._

Here is encouragement to those who travail in husbandry. They are of
as good note with God for their service, if they be faithful, as
others whose trades are more gainful, and better esteemed among men.
The merchants, and goldsmiths, and others of such places, are not so
often mentioned in Scripture as they be, nor animated with so many
consolations as they are. The grand promises for blessing on their
labour are made to them in special, and the rest must deduct their
comforts from thence by proportion.--_Dod._

In a moral point of view the life of the agriculturist is the most
pure and holy of any class of men; pure, because it is the most
healthful, and holy, because it brings the Deity perpetually before
his view, giving him thereby the most exalted notions of supreme
power, and the most fascinating and endearing view of moral
benignity.--_Sir B. Maltravers._

     Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,
     Where wealth accumulates and men decay;
     Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade;
     A breath can make them, as a breath has made:
     But a bold peasantry, their country's pride,
     When once destroyed, can never be supplied.--_Goldsmith._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.--Verses_ 12-14.

THE DESIRE OF WICKED MEN AND THE FRUIT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS.

+I. Concerning wicked men we have--+1. _A blessed instance of their
inability to do all they desire._ Verse 12 speaks of their "desiring
the net of evil men"--of their reaching out after larger
opportunities of ensnaring their fellow-creatures than they have at
their command at present. The desires and abilities of _good_ men are
not always equally balanced. They have more desire to be good and to
do good than they have ability to be or to do. The first teachers of
Christianity desired a "net" that should enclose all to whom they
preached the gospel, and this has been the desire of godly men ever
since. They desire a "net" in which to catch their fellow-creatures
for their good, but their ability always comes short of their
desires. This is a saddening truth, but there is no denying the fact.
But "the net of evil men" desired by the wicked is one in which to
entrap men to their hurt. In this case it is a matter of rejoicing
that their desires and their ability are not balanced. If ungodly men
had their desires fulfilled they would soon transform the world into
a mirror in which they would see them reflected in every human
creature. We ought ever to give thanks to God that wicked men lack
power to do all they desire to do to good men, and that they cannot
even go to the length of their aspirations even with other ungodly
men. They hate each other often with deep hatred, and human and
Divine law alone prevents the world from being turned into a hell by
the fulfilment of their desires against each other. There are
outstanding debts always waiting to be settled whenever a net can be
found large enough to entrap the victim, but God's providence is a
larger net, and so arranges the events of human life that wicked men
are often prevented from committing greater crimes then they do
against each other. 2. _Retribution falling upon them._ A net is
laid, and prey is ensnared, but it is he who desired to entrap his
brother who "is snared by the transgression of his own lips" (ver.
13). It is as certain as that water will find its level that men who
lay traps for others will be entrapped themselves (see chap. xi. 8).
And this will come about not by another man's laying a net for them
but by their own plans being turned against them. Thus Haman made a
snare for his own feet by the "transgression of his own lips" when he
sought to persuade Ahasuerus that "it was not for his profit to
suffer the Jews" (Esther iii. 8). He thought this net would enclose
Mordecai, but it enwrapped himself in its meshes. So when Daniel's
enemies laid their plans against him. Many a time has a godly man had
occasion to sing David's song, _"The heathen are sunk down in the pit
that they made; in the net which they hid is their own foot taken"_
(Psa. ix. 15). It is a law of God's government. _"He that leadeth
into captivity shall go into captivity"_ (Rev. xiii. 10). This is the
"recompense which shall be rendered unto" the man who lays plans to
injure others (ver. 14).

+II. Concerning righteous men we have--+1. _A godly character
springing from a root of piety._ The principal thing to be aimed at
in building a house is to get a good foundation; if the foundation be
insecure, the house will be worthless. That which makes a healthy
fruit-bearing tree is a healthy, strong root; however fair the
branches may at present look, they will soon betray any disease at
the seat of its life. The root of a man's character is his _desire;_
if the desire is righteous, he is a righteous--though not a
perfect--man. As the wicked man was made by his evil desire, so the
good man is made by his desires after that which is true and
benevolent. 2. _That which is yielded by such a root._
(1) _Deliverance._ He is delivered from the net laid for him by the
evil counsels of the wicked. His character is often the means of
bringing him _into_ trouble, but the same character is a guarantee
that he shall come _out_ of it. The time of trouble is by permission
or by appointment of God, and it is only for a limited time. Job and
Joseph were both brought into trouble because their characters
awakened the envy--the one of angelic, the other of human sinners;
but their histories are left on record to show to all just men, who
find themselves in similar circumstances from the same cause, what
the "end of the Lord" is, and will be to them (Jas. v. 11). There
must come a final and blessed deliverance from all trouble for those
who yield the fruit of a holy life from the root of a holy character
(Rev. xxi. 4). (2) _Satisfaction_ (verse 14). One of the fruits of a
righteous man will be his holy and wise speech--speech which blesses
men in opposition to that "transgression of the lips" which is meant
to injure them (verse 13). From this "fruit of the mouth" he shall be
"satisfied with good"--he will have the reward of knowing that his
words bless others, and this will be to him a source of satisfaction.
Or his wise speech may be the means of bringing him material good and
temporal honour.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Verse 12. Man is always restless to press onwards to something not
yet enjoyed. The wicked emulate each other in wickedness, and if they
see evil men more successful than themselves, desire their net (Psa.
x. 8-10; Jer. v. 26-28).--_Bridges._

The words are somewhat obscure, both in the original and in the
translation. The meaning, however, seems as follows: The "net of evil
men," as in chap. i. 17, is that in which they are taken--the
judgment of God in which they are ensnared. This they run into with
such a blind infatuation that it seems as if they were in love with
their own destruction. The marginal "fortress" (a meaning given to
the feminine form in Isa. xxix. 7; Ezek. xix. 9) gives the thought
that the wicked seek the protection of others like themselves, but
seek in vain the "root of the just" (_i.e.,_ that in them which is
fixed and stable), alone yields that protection. The latter rendering
is, on the whole, preferable.--_Plumptre._

Some render the latter clause, _He_ (_i.e.,_ the Lord) _will give a
root of the righteous;_ that is, will enable them to stand
firm.--_Wordsworth._

The impenitent does not prefer to work the soil of his soul, as in
the last verse, but is in hopes to gain by something easier; he likes
to seize as in the chase, or as robbers do. He likes to seize without
having produced or earned. But the righteous not only goes through
solid processes of piety, but (another intensive clause, chap.
xi. 14) earns for others, as well as for himself. While impenitence
would take heaven as in a net, religion works for it, and, in so
doing, "gives" or "yields."--_Miller._

The word "_net_" may be understood of _any means_ by which the wealth
and honours of the world may be acquired. Thus it is used in Habakkuk
i. 13-17. The net described here is that of the oppressor, who
regards his fellow-men as of any value only as he can render them
conducive to his own benefit and aggrandisement, and who uses them
accordingly, and when his oppressive powers prove successful vaunts
himself in the power and the skill by which the means has been
secured. There seems to be a special reference, in the verse before
us, to illegitimate or fraudulent means. When "the wicked" see the
devices of "evil men" succeed, they desire to try the same
arts. . . . If, in any case, conscience _should_ remonstrate and
restrain, and will not allow them to go quite so far, that yet envy,
and regret their restraints. They still _desire_ the net, even when
they can't bring themselves to use it. They wish they could get over
their scruples, and, in this state of mind, the probability is that
by and by they will. The "root of the righteous" might be understood
as meaning the fixed, settled, stable _principle_ of the righteous,
and the sentiment may be, and it is an important one, that, _acting
on rooted principle,_ the righteous may and will ultimately prosper.
I incline, however, to think that "the net" signifies the varied
artifice, cunning, and fraud employed to gain riches quickly, the
root of the righteous may rather represent the _source of his revenue
or income;_ and, in opposition to the art of making rich quickly, to
excite the surprise and the envy of others, a steady,
firmly-established, regularly; and prudently and justly-conducted
business, bringing in its profits fairly and moderately, as a tree,
deeply-rooted in the soil, draws thence its natural nourishment, and,
"receiving blessing from God," brings forth its fruit in due season.
The two views are closely, if not inseparably, connected.--_Wardlaw._

The wicked seek their good from without; the righteous have it
within, their own root, deep and firmly sunk, supplying
it.--_Fausset._

He so furiously pursueth his lusts, as if he desired destruction; as
if he would outdare God Himself; as if the guerdon of his
gracelessness would not come time enough, but he must needs run to
meet it. Thus thrasonical Lamech (Gen. iv. 23) thinks to have the
odds of God seventy to seven. Thus the princes of the Philistines,
whilst plagued, came up to Mizpeh against Israel, as it were, to
fetch their bane (1 Sam. vii.).--_Trapp._

Verse 13. The words _saphah_ (lip) and _lashon_ (tongue) occur, the
first in verses 13, 19, 22, the second in verses 18, 19 in the
chapter. The former occurs about _forty-five_ times in this book; and
the words connected with them, such as _strife, wrath, slander,
scorn,_ and their contraries, _love, peace, truth,_ etc., are very
frequent, showing the importance to be attached to the right
government of the tongue.--_Wordsworth._

Matters are so arranged, in the constitution of the world, that the
straight course of truth is safe and easy; the crooked path of
falsehood difficult and tormenting. Here is perennial evidence that
the God of providence is wise and true. By making lies a share to
catch liars in, the Author of being proclaims, even in the voices of
nature, that He "requireth truth in the inward parts." "The just
shall come out of trouble;" that is the word; it is not said he shall
never fall into it. The inventory which Jesus gives of what His
disciples shall have "now in this time," although it contains many
things that nature loves, closes with the article "persecutions"
(Mark x. 30). . . . Those who wave their palms of victory and sing
their jubilant hymns of praise, were all in the horrible pit
once.--_Arnot._

All human conduct is represented by the lips (verse 6 and chap.
xiv. 3). The tongue is a foremost business agent. The impenitent,
though he may stand out very clear, and see no tokens of a net, yet,
as his life is false his not seeing the snare shows only how the more
insidiously he may be entangled in. While the righteous, though he
may be born to the snare; originally contemned; and though he may be
caught in the toils of great worldly evil, yea, of sin itself; yet
out of the very jaw of the trap where he may have foolishly entered,
he will in the end by helped to get out.--_Miller._

They (the just) suffer sometimes for their bold and free invectives
against the evils of the times, but they shall surely be
delivered. . . . John Baptist, indeed, was, without any law, right,
and reason, beheaded in prison as though God had known nothing at all
of him, said George Marsh, the martyr. And the same may be said of
sundry other witnesses to the truth, but then by death they entered
into life eternal. . . . Besides that heaven upon earth they had
during their troubles. . . . The best comforts are usually reserved
for the worst times.--_Trapp._

Verse 14. Albeit the opening of the mouth is a small matter; yet,
when it is done in wisdom, it shall be recompensed by the Lord with
great blessing. For such as use their tongues to God's glory, and the
edification of their brethren, instructing them and exhorting them
from day to day, shall be loved by God and man, and taste many good
things. Now, as good words, so good works shall be rewarded. For the
recompense of a man's hands shall reward him; not only shall the
wicked be plagued for their evil doing, but the godly shall be
blessed for their well-doing.--_Muffet._

This is the whole question of capital and labour put in a nutshell.
_All_ is not to be claimed by the _hands_, for there is the mouth
that directs and orders. _As much_ is not to be claimed by the
_hands,_ for the Bible is a good, truthful book, and it claims for
the mind more than for the muscle. (See this distinction in Eccles.
x. 10.) "_A man of the better sort,_" with his education, and
expensive capital, earns more, according to the inspired Solomon,
than the "labouring man." What he demands of the Christian gentleman
is, that he shall make an estimate of all this, and, while he keeps
himself "_the earnings of the mouth,_" he render carefully to the
labourer the wages of his hands. We have no authority for this
interpretation. We present it as unquestionably just. The translation
it would be hard to give literally. But the words are about thus:
_"From the fruit of the mouth of a man of the better class, a good
man will be satisfied; and the wage (lit. the work) of the hands of a
common man he will render to him."_ This fair, calculating spirit, in
all questions between man and man, not tending to communism on the
one hand and not yielding to tyranny on the other, is the true spirit
of the inspired Gospel.--_Miller._

There are "empty vines that bear fruit unto themselves" (Hosea x. 1).
And as empty casks sound loudest, and base metal rings shrillest, so
many empty tattlers are full of discourse. Much fruit will redound by
holy speeches to ourselves--much to others. Paul showeth that the
very report of his bonds did a great deal of good in Cæsar's house
(Phil. i. 14). . . . One seasonable truth, falling upon a prepared
heart, hath oft a strong and sweet influence. Sometimes, also,
although we know that which we ask of others as well as they do, yet
good speeches will draw us to know it better by giving occasion to
speak more of it, wherewith the Spirit works most effectually, and
imprints it deeper, so that it shall be a more rooted knowledge than
before.--_Trapp._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 15 _and_ 16.

TWO EXAMPLES OF FOOLISHNESS AND WISDOM.

+I. The man who guides his life by his own self-conceit--rejecting
the advice of others.+ No finite creature possesses sufficient wisdom
within himself to direct his path through life. The largest and
deepest rivers are dependent upon small streams to sustain their
volume of water, and each little stream again must be fed from a
source outside itself, and the springs which feed the streams have
their origin in the ocean's fulness. So the very greatest minds are
in some things dependent upon minds which in many things are their
inferior, and it is a mark of wisdom to acknowledge this, and to be
willing to take advice of anyone who is able to give it upon matters
in which they are better informed. Thus men are led to exercise a
mutual dependence on each other, and all to depend upon Him whose
wisdom is the parent of all finite counsel that is of any value.
(1) A man who will not acknowledge and act upon this principle is a
fool, because he practically shuts his eyes to a self-evident fact,
and denies that he is a member of a race, the members of which are
evidently intended to supply each other's lack in such a manner as to
form a mutually dependent body. It is in human society as it is in
the individual human body--"the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have
no need of thee: nor again the head to the feet, I have no need of
you" (1 Cor. xii. 21), or if they do say so they only proclaim their
great want of wisdom. (2) He is a fool because he declines to profit
by the experience of men in the past. To recur to the simile of the
human body, it is intended to live upon material outside itself, and
a man is counted insane who refused to take food. So we are intended
to profit by the experience of men who have lived before us, and it
is quite as foolish to set it aside as useless to us as it is to
refuse to eat in order to live. It is indeed like expecting to keep
in health and strength by consuming one's own flesh. No man does
actually and in all cases refuse to profit by the wisdom and
experience of others, but he is foolish in proportion as he does so.
(3) He is a fool because he is so declared by the highest authority.
God by His offers of guidance, by the very existence of the Bible,
declares that men need counsel. (See upon this subject Homiletics on
chap. iii. 7, 8, page 34.) The human soul is like a blind Samson,
because of the blinding nature of sin relative and sin personal, and
all its endeavours to find a right way without harkening to Divine
counsel only result in stumbles and wounds, and finally, if persisted
in, in moral ruin. All a man's endeavours only increase his misery,
until he take the counsel offered him by God. He is like a
shipwrecked mariner suffering from raging thirst having drunk of the
briny water, every draught only increases the disease, and nothing
can save him but drinking of pure water. (4) This man is his own
destroyer. It is bad to be ruined by the temptations of others, but
there is this advantage, we can fall back upon the excuse of our
first parents: "The woman gave me of the tree and I did eat," or "the
serpent beguiled me" (Gen. iii. 12, 13). But when a man's rejection
of counsel ruins him, he finds himself in a "blind alley," from which
there is not even the outlet of an excuse.

+II. The passionate man.+ This is often the companion of self-conceit
and is indeed a proof of it. If a man is unable to hold a restive
horse well in hand, it proves that he has not taken lessons in
horsemanship. If a man cannot steer a vessel in ordinary
circumstances without running her upon the rocks, it shows that he
has not learned the art of navigation. A man who cannot keep his
anger from over-mastering him--who cannot keep a firm hold of the
rudder of his own spirit--proclaims that he has not subjected himself
to moral discipline, that he has disdained to learn the art of moral
rulership. Such a man is a fool, because a man in passion is always
despised by others, he often utters words which he would afterwards
give much to recall, and generally ends by losing his own
self-respect.

+III. In contrast to this character stands the man who is in all
respects the opposite--+him whose character is sketched in the first
clause of these verses, who "loveth instruction" (ver. 1) who
acknowledges that "he is a stranger in the earth and needs Divine
guidance" (Psa. cxix. 19), that "the way of man is not himself; it is
not in man that walketh to direct his step" (Jer. x. 23.--See
homiletics on chap. x. 8, page 151). Such a man is willing to listen
to the advice of any who are capable of giving it, and his prudence
in this matter is generally accompanied by an ability to "cover
shame"--to take a reproof or an insult in silence. He has learned to
take George Herbert's advice--

     "Command thyself in chief. He life's war knows
      Whom all his passions _follow_ as he goes."

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Verse 15. All through our lost nature the truth of this proverb is
visible. A man may be on the road to hell, but think that he is fair
for heaven. A man may build by rapine, but think that he is the pink
of fair dealing. A man is not a judge about himself. A Christian,
therefore, will feel this, and while the impenitent is hard as to his
own right, the Christian will be humble, and will be glad, in
reasonable ways, to leave his duties to be advised upon by
others.--_Miller._

We have one great "Counsellor" Messiah, who is made unto us "wisdom"
(Isa. ix. 6; 1 Cor. i. 30). Let us "hearken unto" Him (chap.
i. 33).--_Fausset._

And such a fool is every natural man (Job xi. 12); wise enough, haply
in his generation--so is the fox too--wise with such wisdom as, like
the ostrich's wings, makes him outrun others upon earth, but helps
him never a whit towards heaven.--_Trapp._

The worse any man is, or doth, the less he seeth his evil. They that
commit the most sins have hope that they stand guilty of fewest; they
that fall into greatest transgressions, imagine that their faults be
the smallest; they that sink into the deepest dangers do dream of
greatest safety; they that have longest continued in rebellion
against God, of all others, for the most part are slowest to
repentance. . . . St. Paul testifieth that when he was in the worst
case, he knew nothing but that he had been in the best.--_Dod._

Every man's way is, and must be, in some degree, acceptable to
himself, otherwise he would never have chosen it. But, nevertheless,
whoever is wise, will be apt to suspect and be diffident of himself.
Let men's abilities be ever so great, and their knowledge ever so
extensive, still they ought not, and without great danger and
inconvenience cannot, trust wholly and entirely to themselves. For
those abilities and that knowledge easily may be, and often are,
rendered useless by the prejudices and prepossessions of men's own
minds. Nothing is more common than for men's appetites and affections
to bribe their judgments, and seduce them into erroneous ways of
thinking and acting. They are often entangled and set fast, not
through the want of light and knowledge, not through any defect of
their heads, but through the deceitfulness of their hearts. In many
cases where they could easily direct other men, they suffer
themselves to be misled, and are driven into the snare by the
strength of inclination, or by the force of habit. . . . This
acquired darkness, this voluntary incapacity, as well as the wont of
counsel thereby occasioned, nowhere appears more frequently, or more
remarkably, than in the transaction of our spiritual concerns, and
what relates to the discharge of our duty. "The way of Man," says our
royal author, "is right in his own eyes," though the end "thereof be
the ways of death." When we have wandered out of the road, and almost
lost ourselves in bye-paths, we can make ourselves believe that we
have continued all the while in the highway to truth and
happiness. . . . But, however lightly we may esteem the helps and
directions of men, shall we not attend to the counsels of Our
Heavenly Father, and the admonitions of the Most High? Can we have
more regard to what is "right in our own eyes" than to what is right
in His?--_Balguy._

Verse 16. "Covereth," with the mantle of patience and charity,
instead of exasperating himself, and losing self-control by dwelling
on the indignity of the word or deed, and the worthlessness of the
injurer. He does not publish the act to the discredit of the other,
but consults for the reputation of the other, lest he should add sin
to the injury suffered.--_Fausset._

Truly is _wrath_ called _shame._ For is it not a _shame_ that unruly
passions should, as it were, trample reason under foot, disfigure
even the countenance, and subjugate the whole man to a temporary
madness? (Dan. iii. 19.)--_Bridges._

A fool hath no power over his passions. Like tow, he is soon kindled;
like a pot, he soon boils; and like a candle whose tallow is mixed
with brine, as soon as lighted he spits up and down the room. "A fool
uttereth all his mind" (chap. xxix. 11). The Septuagint renders it
"all his anger." For, as the Hebrews well note in a proverb they
have, "A man's mind is soonest known in his _purse,_ in his _drink,_
and in his _anger._" But "A wise man covereth shame" by concealing
his wrath, or rather by suppressing it when it would break forth to
his disgrace, or the just grief of another. This was Saul's wisdom
(1 Sam. x. 27); and Jonathan's (1 Sam. xx. 34); and Ahasuerus's,
when, in a rage against Haman, he walked into the garden. The
philosopher wished Augustine, when angry, to say over the Greek
alphabet.--_Trapp._

The meaning of the Holy Ghost is not here to condemn all kinds of
anger, for it is one of the powers of the soul which God created as
an ornament in men, and godly anger is a part of God's image in him,
and a grace commended in Moses, Elijah, etc., and our Saviour
Himself, and he that is always altogether destitute of this doth
provoke God to be angry with him, for want of zeal and hatred of sin;
but it is a _passionate_ anger that is here reproved, which is not a
power of the soul, but an impotency. He that conceiveth the other is
an _agent,_ and doth a service to God; but he that is moved with this
is a _patient,_ and sin hath in that case prevailed against
him.--_Dod._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.--Verses_ 17 _to_ 19,
_and verse_ 22.

WOUNDING AND HEALING.

+I. The mischief that may be done by a lying tongue.+ 1. _In a legal
matter._ It is the duty of a witness to testify exactly what he
knows, and no more nor less. If a man speaks deceitfully he may bring
much misery upon the innocent, whom his straightforward testimony
would have acquitted. And he may do this by withholding truth as well
as by uttering direct falsehood. The first is "showing forth deceit"
as well as the last. 2. _In common conversation._ The word
"speaketh," in verse 18, is "babbleth," and seems to point to those
who are great talkers, and who are not careful what they say. (See
Homiletics on chap. x. 19-21, page 168.) In both these cases words
may inflict a more deadly wound than a sword. If spoken _to a man_
they may break his heart, if spoken _of him_ they may kill his
reputation, which no sword of steel can touch, and which to the best
men is more precious than bodily life. A lying or even a _babbling_
tongue can pierce a much more vital organisation than flesh and
blood--it can enter the human spirit, and hurt it in its most
sensitive part; or by slander it can destroy all the joy of a man's
earthly life. And as a sword can in a moment sever the spirit and the
body of a man, and work such ruin and misery as can never be done
away with, so a lying tongue may by one word, or one conversation, do
mischief that can never be undone. The sword of steel can divide
human friends locally; but it cannot sever their love; it tends
rather to increase and brighten the flame; but a word of slander may
do all this, and estrange those who were bound in the tenderest ties,
until the God of Truth shall bring the truth to light. Though the
lying tongue is comparatively "but for a moment," yet in a moment it
can deal a thrust that will last as long as life. It can open a wound
whence will flow out all the joy of life, as the heart's blood flows
from a mortally wounded man.

+II. Its judgment and its destiny.+ It is an abomination in the sight
of a God of Truth, and, therefore, its life is comparatively
short--it is "but for a moment" compared with the eternal duration of
truth. A lying man or devil is the very antipodes of the Divine
character. All truthful men instinctively shrink from a liar as the
sensitive plant withdraws from the human touch. How much more must he
be held in abhorrence by Him who is a "God of Truth, and without
iniquity" (Deut. xxxii. 4). Christ characterises lying as the
cardinal sin of the greatest sinner in the universe (John viii. 44).
It was his lying tongue that "brought death into the world, and all
our woe," and so spoiled the Paradise which God had prepared for man.
How then can lying be any other than an abomination to Him? But,
because it is so, its doom is fixed. It is destined to destruction by
the victory of truth, as the night is destroyed by the overcoming
light of day. (On this subject see also Homiletics on chap. x. 18,
page 166.)

+III. The blessed results of a truthful and wisely-governed tongue.+
1. _it will "show forth righteousness."_ A man who speaks the truth
shows forth righteousness in two ways--(1) _in his own character._ He
reveals himself to be a righteous man. He gives a living example of
uprightness and integrity. (2) _He helps on righteousness in the
world._ By being a faithful witness he furthers the ends of justice
and righteousness--he helps on the just administration of the law.
2. _It will heal wounds inflicted by the untruthful tongue._ In
nature we have a two-fold exhibition of power. The hurricane comes
and breaks the branches of the tree, and strips off its leaves; but a
more beneficent power clothes it again with beauty. So the tongue of
a fool strips a man of what made life beautiful to him--takes away
his good name, or breaks bonds of close friendship--but wise and kind
words have a healing power in them--they help to cheer the wounded
spirit, and enable the bowed head to lift itself again. Such a tongue
of healing had the Divine Son of God, who came "to heal the broken in
heart" (Isa. lxi. 1), and to restore the friendship between God and
man, which was first broken by the slandering tongue of the
devil--that great slanderer of God to man, and of man to God (Gen.
iii. 5; Job i. 10). To Him the _"Lord God gave the tongue of the
learned, that He might know how to speak a word in season to him that
was weary"_ (Isa. l. 4). The tongue of all true servants of God is an
instrument of healing, for they are enabled to tell to their
fellow-men "words whereby they may be saved" (Acts iv. 12).

+IV. God's estimation of it and its destiny.+ It is "God's delight,"
verse 22. Whatever gives delight to a noble and benevolent man must
be a blessing to humanity, and everything will delight him that tends
to minister blessing to the world. This is pre-eminently true of the
good God. Truth is the great need of the race--truth in word and deed
and thought. To this end Christ came into the world "to bear witness
of the truth" (John xviii. 37), because that alone is the cure for
the world's woes. Then every man who is _true_ must bless humanity
and consequently delight God. A good father rejoices to see his own
excellencies of character appear in his son, and the Father of the
good likewise delights to see His children copy Him in "dealing
truly." (See also on chap. xi. 1, page 190.) And because it is God's
delight it will last for ever. Truth of any kind will be established
in the course of time. If a man proclaim a scientific truth, however
much he may be laughed at and disbelieved at first, his "lip," or his
words, will be established in the end. In the words of Galileo, when
he uttered the truth, that the earth moved round the sun, have long
since been "established." Time only is needed for any truth to take
root-hold--it can never be overturned, whether it be physical or
moral truth. Many truths which were scoffed at by most men, when they
were first promulgated, are now regarded as truisms by almost
everybody. And the lips that uttered them are now established and
held in honour. Such men, for instance, as Cromwell and Milton, when
they declared that the right of private judgment in religious
matters, the freedom of the press, etc., were the right of every man,
are now established in the estimation of this nation, and the truths
which they uttered are regarded by all Englishmen as undoubted facts.
"This," says F. W. Robertson, "is man's relation to the truth. He is
but a learner--a devout recipient of a revelation--here to listen
with open ear devoutly for that which he shall hear; to gaze and
watch for that which he shall see. Man can do no more. He cannot
create truth; he can only bear witness to it; he can only listen and
report that which is in the universe. If he does not repeat and
witness to that, he speaks of his own, and forthwith ceases to be
true. . . . Veracity is another thing. Veracity is the correspondence
between a proposition and man's belief. Truth is the correspondence
of the proposition with fact." It is to such
witness-bearers--especially to those who witness concerning moral
truth--that the promise of the text applies.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Verse 17. He who is brought to a spiritual discernment of the
_"truth"_ "breathes" it like his breath, instinctively and
unconsciously. (See Critical Notes.) And he who does this not simply
"covers shame" (verse 16), but causes others to, for he _advertises_
righteousness--_i.e., publishes_ it. This, therefore, is the meaning
of the sentence: "He that breathes forth truth publishes
righteousness"--_i.e.,_ saving righteousness: and does it like
uttering forth his breath. While the "deceived" (false) witness;
literally, _the witness of falsehood;_ a phrase which is ambiguous,
because it might mean a _witness to falsehood_ (see chap. vi. 9)--the
"deceived witness"--_i.e.,_ the man who sees or witnesses falsehood
instead of truth, "_publishes_ (understood) _delusion"--i.e.,_ is a
constant fountain of deceit to other men. This sense of the witness
of falsehood is necessary to many proverbs (chap. xiv. 5), and saves
a number from tautological or truistic interpretations.--_Miller._

There is more here than lies upon the surface. It might seem enough
for a faithful witness to _speak truth._ But no--he must _show forth
righteousness;_ what is _just,_ as well as what is _true._ The best
intentioned purpose must not lead us to conceal what is necessary to
bring the cause to a righteous issue.--_Bridges._

The words read at first almost like a truism; but the thought which
lies below the surface is that of the inseparable union between truth
and justice. The end does not justify the means, and only he who
breathes and utters truth makes the righteous cause
clear.--_Plumptre._

He that _speaketh,_ ordinarily, in his common speech, that which is
true, will _show righteousness_--that is, will carry himself justly,
and further righteousness with his testimony, when he shall be
publicly called thereunto. There must be a training of the tongue to
make it fit for equity and justice, as of the hands, and other parts
of the body, to make them skilful in handling a weapon and bearing of
arms. . . . No man is competent for any work that is public unless
his former upright and honest conversation commend him unto it. The
rule which our Saviour gives in another case will hold as firmly in
this. _"He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also
in much"_ (Luke xvi. 10). For, _first,_ the mouth of the man is the
mouth of the man's treasure. That which he speaketh he best loveth.
That which is most in the lips hath greatest place in the heart. If,
therefore, the truth be dear unto him, he will certainly show it
forth when he shall stand forth before God and His substitute for
that purpose, and so do a good service of love and piety; but if he
have any fellowship with falsehood he will now take part with it,
being void of the fear of God, and afraid to displease man.
_Secondly,_ no man exerciseth the truth at any time conscionably, but
by the spirit of truth, and that directing men's hearts at other
times, in matters of less weight, will not fail them at their
greatest need, when they are to perform a duty of so great
importance; and so, on the other hand, Satan hath the disposing of
their tongues that give themselves to lying. He is their father, he
teachest them their trade, and tasketh them in their work, and they
be wholly at his commandment, and who doubteth but he will command
them to be on his side, and to take against the truth, so far as a
knowledge of the truth shall make against his practices.--_Dod._

Verse 18. _Wit,_ when not chastened and controlled by an amiable
disposition, often wounds deeply. Jibes, jests, irony, raillery, and
sarcasm, fly about. No matter what the wounds, or where they be
inflicted, if the wit be but shown. A _happy hit,_ a clever, biting
repartee, will not be suppressed for the sake of feelings, or even
the character of a neighbour, or, as it may happen, a friend. The man
of wit _must_ have his joke, cost what it may. The point may be
piercing in the extreme; but if it _glitters_ it is enough; to the
heart it will go.--_Wardlaw._

Abimelech and his fellow priests were killed with the tongue, as with
a rapier; so was Naboth and his sons; so was our Saviour Christ
Himself. An honest mind is ever more afflicted with words than blows.
You shall find some, saith Erasmus, that if they be threatened with
death can despise it; but to be belied they cannot brook, nor from
revenge contain themselves. How was David enraged by Nabal's
railings! Moses, by the people's murmurings! Jeremiah by the
derisions of the rude rabble! (chap. xx. 7, 8.)--_Trapp._

Among all the complaints which the godly, and God's own Spirit make
against the wicked in the Scriptures, they seldom complain of
anything more than of their virulent and pestiferous mouths (Psa.
lv. 21, lii. 2; Prov. xxv. 18; Rom. iii. 13). _First,_ they cause
swords to be drawn, and blood to be shed, and men to be slain, and
much mischief to be wrought. _Secondly,_ The sword, or any other
weapon, can only hurt them that are present, and in places near to
it; but the stroke of the tongue will light most dangerously upon
them that are absent; no place or distance can help against it, and
one man may do mischief to a great multitude.--_Dod._

Verse 19. Liars need to have good memories. A lying tongue soon
betrays itself. "No lie reaches old age," says Sophocles.--_Fausset._

The verse has been differently rendered. "The tongue of truth is ever
steady: but the tongue of falsehood is so but for a moment"
(_Hodgson_). There is unvarying consistency in the one case; for
truth is always in harmony with itself; while there is shifting
evasion, vacillation, contradiction, in the other.--_Wardlaw._

Who will gainsay the martyr's testimony--"Be of good comfort, Master
Ridley, play the man! We shall this day light such a candle in
England as I trust shall _never be put out._"--_Bridges._

The Christian shall utter for ever just the things that he utters on
earth.--_Miller._

Verse 22. Not merely they that _speak_ truly, but they that _deal_
truly. Deeds of true dealing must confirm words of fair
speaking.--_Fausset._

A lie is a thing absolutely and intrinsically evil; it is an act of
injustice and a violation of our neighbour's rights. The vileness of
its nature is equalled by the malignity of its effects; it first
brought sin into the world, and is since the cause of all those
miseries and calamities that disturb it; it tends utterly to
overthrow and dissolve society, which is the greatest temporal
blessing and support of mankind; it has a strange and peculiar
efficacy above all other sins to indispose the heart to religion. It
is as dreadful in its punishments as it has been pernicious in its
effects.--_South._

_Honesty_ is just _truth in conduct;_ and _truth_ is _honesty in
words._--_Wardlaw._

Such as speak the truth in uprightness will not vary in their talk,
but tell the same tale again, and be like to themselves in that which
they shall say; whereas liars be in and out, affirming and denying,
and speaking contradictions in the same manner. Only true men are
constant in their words. _First,_ their matter will help their
memory, for that which is truth once will be truth ever. _Secondly,_
the same Spirit that worketh a love and conscience of the truth,
whereby men are made to be true, doth never cease to be the same,
therefore, as it seasoneth the heart and guideth it at the first, so
it will establish it, and direct the lips to the end. For sincerity
and uprightness is of all things most durable, and least subject to
alteration or change. And that St. Paul assigneth for a cause of his
invariable constancy, that he minded not those things that he did
mind according to the flesh, whereby there should be with him, _yea,
yea,_ and _nay, nay_ (2 Cor. i. 17).--_Dod._

Truth is always consistent with itself, and needs nothing to help it
out; it is always near at hand, and sits upon our lips, and is ready
to drop out before we are aware; whereas a lie is troublesome, and
sets a man's invention upon the rack, and one trick needs a good many
more to make it good. It is like building upon a false foundation,
which constantly needs props to shore it up, and proves at last more
chargeable than to have raised a substantial building at first upon a
true and solid foundation.--_Tillotson._

     Dare to be true, nothing can need a lie:
     A fault which needs it most grows two thereby.--_Herbert._

God "desireth truth in the inward parts" (Psa. li. 6), and all His
are "children that will not lie" (Isa. lxiii. 8); they will rather
die than lie. As they "love in the truth" (2 John 1) so they "speak
the truth in love" (Ephes. iv. 15), and are therefore dear to the
Father in truth and love (2 John 3), especially since they "do truth"
as well as speak it (1 John i. 6), and do not more desire to be truly
good than they hate to seem to be so only.--_Trapp._

God doth never hate anything that is not hateful, and that most needs
be odious which He abhorreth, and especially when it is abomination.
Ye may know by their companions among whom they are marshalled what
account He maketh of them (see Rev. xxi. 8). . . . That truth which
is acceptable to God consisteth both in speaking and doing. 1. His
Spirit doth make every man that hath attained to the one to be able
to do the other. That which St. John setteth down in a more general
manner doth strongly confirm this particular point. _"If any man sin
not in word, he is a perfect man, and able to bridle all the body."_
His meaning is that some be absolute without sin in word, and
perfect, without infirmity in goodness; but that many be gracious
without sinfulness, though they have their slips in speeches; and
sincere, without wickedness, though they have their frailties in
behaviour. 2. Both are infallible and essential fruits of
regeneration, and the Apostle doth thereby persuade us thereby to
declare ourselves to be of the number of the saints, and faithful,
saying, _"Cast off lying, and let him that stole steal no more"_
(Ephes. iv. 24, 28). 3. Both are required of them that would know and
manifest themselves to be natural members of the Church in this
world, and inheritors of salvation in the life to come. (See. Psa.
xv. 1, 2.)--_Dod._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 20.

JOY FROM PEACE.

+I. There must be counsel if there is to be peace.+ There can be no
peace either in a soul, a family, or a nation, where there is no
counsel given and taken. There must be some centre of authority and
rule whence counsel issues, if there is to be any order, and where
there is no order there can be no peace. The peace of the text must
be peace based upon _righteousness,_ indeed all that bears the name
that is not built upon this foundation, is false and transitory. It
is like that house built upon the sand, which, when the winds come,
is swept away, although it may look like a solid structure on a
summer day. It is "the work of _righteousness,_" that _"shall be
peace, and the effect of righteousness, quietness and assurance for
ever."_ "The mountains shall bring peace . . . by righteousness"
(Psalm lxxii. 3; Isa. xxxii. 17).

+II. Where there is true peace by righteousness there will be joy.+
Joy is the overflow of peace. Peace is like a river flowing
tranquilly between its banks, and joy is like the same river when
there is such a volume of water that it overflows the banks. When
there is "an abundance of peace" in a soul, or a family, or a nation,
it must overflow into joy--it must take a more active form. (The
subject of the first clause of this verse has been treated before.
See on verse 3.)

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

That deceit is in the heart of him who deviseth evil appears to be a
platitude, for the devising is directed against a neighbour. But, in
the first place, it says that the evil which a man hatches against
another always issues in a fraudulent malicious deception of the
same; and, secondly, it says, when taken into connection with the
second clause, that with the deception he always at the same time
prepares for him sorrow. The contrast denotes not those who give
counsel to contending parties to conclude peace, but such as devise
peace--viz., in reference to the neighbour, for the word means not
merely to impart counsel, but also mentally to devise, to resolve
upon, to decree. Hitzig and Zöckler give to _peace_ the general idea
of welfare, and interpret _joy_ as the inner joy of a good
conscience. But as the _deception_ in the first clause is not
self-deception, but the deception of another, so the joy is not that
which men procure for others. Thoughts of peace for one's neighbour
are always of procuring joy for him, as thoughts of evil are thoughts
of deceit; and thus of procuring sorrow for him.--_Delitzsch._

Evil counsel most hurteth those that give it. By deceit is here meant
a deceitful reward; or an issue of a matter deceiving a man's
expectation--_Muffet._

They shall have peace for peace; peace of conscience for peace of
country; _pax pectoris_ for _pax temporis._ They shall be called and
counted the children of peace; yea, the children of God.--_Trapp._

_First,_ no man can soundly seek to reconcile man to God, or one man
to another, or give direction for his neighbour's welfare, unless he
himself be reconciled to God, and peaceable towards men, and have
Christian love in his heart, and these graces are never separated
from holy comfort and gladness. For the same sap that sendeth forth
the one, doth in the like manner also yield the other, as the apostle
testifieth (Gal. v. 22; Rom. xiv. 17). _Secondly,_ if their counsel
be embraced and followed, the good effect thereof, with God's
blessing, besides thanks and kindness which the parties holpen by
their counsel, will yield to them; as David to Abigail, and Naaman to
Elisha, etc. _Thirdly,_ though their advice be rejected, yet, as
Isaiah saith, their reward is with the Lord, and they shall be
glorious in His eyes (Isa. xlix. 4, 5).--_Dod._

_Deceit is in the heart (or cometh back to the heart) of them that
imagine evil (or practise mischief)._ +I. The persons are described.+
They are evil-doers, but not every evil-doer, but the practiser, the
trader, the artificer in evil, one wholly bent upon sin, not every
bungler or beginner, but an expert workman, that can despatch more
business of sin in one day than some other in a month or a year. Nor
is every evil here aimed at, but evil against others--_mischief._
Many evil men are only greatest enemies to themselves, intent to
serve and satisfy their own lusts; but these with whom we have now to
do, always have evil in their hearts or hands, in their consultations
and executions, whereby to hurt others. Again, this man in our text
is subtle in evil; as he is a cunning workman and active in high
designs of evil, so he carrieth his business as subtilely, for which
the whole work carries in the original the name of _deceit,_
pretending all fair weather, as still water is deepest and most
dangerous, or like a waterman that looks one way and rows another.
+II. The condition of these persons.+ Their deceit returns to them
that first hatched it; that is, brings unavoidable mischief on
themselves. 1. There is no small unquietness in the heart, while it
is plotting evil. 2. Whomsoever they deceive, they cannot deceive
God, Who will make them deceivers of themselves (See Job v. 12, 13).
3. Whereas sin is a sure paymaster, and the _wages death,_ the sin of
these men must needs slay them and play the part both of an _officer_
to apprehend them, of a _gaoler_ to hold them, and of an
_executioner_ to bring them to shameful death.--_Thos. Taylor, 1650._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 21.

ALL WORKING FOR THE GOOD OF THE RIGHTEOUS.

The first clause cannot, of course, mean that nothing that appears
evil--that no sorrow or loss happens to the just. Such an assertion
would be contrary to other teachings of Scripture, as well as to
experience and history. The righteousness of the first man who is
called righteous (Luke xi. 51) led to his murder. If Joseph had been
a less virtuous man, the iron of imprisonment would not have entered
into his soul (Psa. cv. 18). If John the Baptist had been a
time-serving godless man, he would not have had the bitter experience
of the dungeon of Machaerus. To these men, and to all the noble army
of martyrs, many of the things which happened were very evil in
themselves. The Word of God likewise forewarns men that all who will
live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution, that through
much tribulation they must enter into the kingdom of God (2 Tim.
iii. 12; Acts xiv. 22). And every just man now living has had
experience of evil befalling him in his health, his circumstances, or
in some other form. But--

+I. No evil shall really injure the godly man.+ It shall not hurt his
better part, that which is the man himself--his spiritual nature, his
moral character. The storms that cannot uproot a tree only make it
take deeper root-hold, and so add to its strength. If it break some
of the branches it makes it more fit to weather another tempest. So
all the trials of the just man tend to strengthen his character by
causing him to lay a firmer hold upon the things that are unseen and
eternal.

                             "Affliction then is ours;
     We are the trees whom shaking fastens more,
       While blustering winds destroy the wanton bowers,
     And ruffle all their curious knots and store."--_Herbert._

The true interpretation of the text is found in the inspired
declaration of Paul, _"We know that all things work together for good
to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His
purpose"_ (Rom. viii. 28). Many elements work together to produce a
good harvest at the appointed time. Winter winds and snow, summer
breezes, gentle rain and noontide heat, all have a part in the work.
One of these agencies alone would not bring forth one golden ear, but
the "working together" will cover the land with fields of grain ready
for the sickle. Many and various materials and agencies must be
brought together to build a seaworthy ship. Iron and wood, fire and
water, men skilled in many different arts must work together to bring
about the required result. And so with the just man. Manifold
experiences, failure and success, joy and sorrow, make up his earthly
life. Not sorrow alone, nor joy alone, would fit him for his eternal
inheritance--would fit him to be presented "faultless before the
presence" of his Lord (Jude 24). But it is the combination of both,
that many things "working together," that effect the desired good.
And so no evil befals him, because all the evil shall work together
with the good for his eternal well-being.

+II. The wicked man shall likewise attain to a completion of
character.+ "The wicked shall be filled with mischief" teaches
(1) that wicked men are not so bad as they _can_ be. Thorns and
briars grow stronger year by year. Time is needed to transform the
blade into the full ear. As the present season of probation is but
the beginning of man's life, we conclude that men can go on eternally
progressing in the character which now belongs to them--that all
their present habits of thought and feeling can become must stronger
than they are at present. Therefore, a wicked man can grow worse than
he is at present. (2) That wicked men are not as bad as they _shall_
be. If a stone is set in motion down a hill it will keep on its
course unless it is arrested by some opposing force. So, unless a
godless man yields to a Divine influence, and so is brought to
repentance, he shall "wax worse and worse" (2 Tim. iii. 13). No man
can stand still in character; if he do not grow better, he must grow
worse. And this "filling up" of the measure of wickedness is but the
necessary reaction of his own actions. He is filled with his _own_
mischief. And the just man's present actions go to strengthen and
develop his spiritual nature, and to complete and perfect his
character in goodness, so every act of the godless man is one more
link of the chain of evil habit which binds him daily more tightly,
and sinks him every day a little lower in the moral universe of God.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

No "evil," or _calamity;_ literally nothing _worthless_ or _empty._
The root means _nothingness, entire vacuity._ The expression, too, is
peculiar. _"There shall not happen to the righteous any nothingness
at all."_ But as several of the nouns that mean evil, through a deep
philosophy, trace to the same kind of root, "calamity," or _actual
evil,_ is the proper translated sense. No event that turns out an
actual _calamity_ can ever happen to the saint. And if anyone points
to their tremendous agonies it is well enough to go back to the root,
_nothingness._ Nothing _worthless;_ that is, nothing that proves not
so useful as to be better than present joy. Nothing not actually
precious. In the whole course of their lives each is "filled" with
"their own proper lot." The wicked, if he have joys, will find them
sorrows; and the righteous, if he have sorrows, will find them, not
_nothings,_ but for his eternal joy.--_Miller._

The word signifies evil as ethical wickedness, and although it may be
used of any misfortune in general, it denotes especially such sorrow
as the harvest and produce of sin (chap. xxii. 8; Job. iv. 8; Isa.
lix. 4), or such as brings after it punishment (Hab. iii. 7; Jer.
iv. 15). That it is also here thus meant the contrast makes
evident.--_Delitzsch._

First, for evil of sin. God will not lead him into temptation; but
will cut off occasions, remove stumbling-blocks out of his way;
devoratory evils, as Tertullian calls them, he shall be sure not to
fall into "That evil one shall not touch him" (1 John v. 18) with a
deadly touch; nibble he may at their heels, he cannot reach their
heads, shake he may his chain at them, but shall not set his fangs in
them, or so far thrust his sting into them as to infuse into them the
venom of that sin unto death (1 John v. 17). Next, for evil of pain,
though "many be the troubles of the righteous" (Ps. xxxiv. 19), and
they "fall into manifold temptations" (Jas. i. 2), they go not in
step by step into these waters of Marah, but "fall into" them, being,
as it were, precipitated, plunged over head and ears, yet are bidden
to be exceeding glad, as a merchant is to see his ship come laden in.
Their afflictions are not penal, but probational; not mortal, but
medicinal. "By this shall the iniquity of Jacob be purged, and this
is all the fruit, the taking away of his sin" (Isa. xxvii. 9). Look
how the scourging and beating of a garment with a stick drives out
the moths and the dust; so doth affliction corruptions from the
heart; and there is no hurt in that; no evil thereby happens to the
just. . . . To treasure up sin is to treasure up wrath (Rom ii. 5).
"Every bottle shall be filled with wine" (Jer. xiii. 12); the bottle
of wickedness, when once filled with those bitter waters, will sink
to the bottom; the ephah of wickedness, when top full shall be borne
"into the land of Shinar, and set there upon her own base" (Zech.
v. 8, 11). He that makes a match with mischief shall have his
bellyfull of it (Hosea iv. 17; Prov. xiv. 14); he shall have an evil,
"an evil, an only evil" (Ezek. vii. 5), that is, judgment without
mercy, as St. James expounds it (chap. ii. 13). _Non surgit hic
afficitior,_ as the prophet Nahum hath it (chap. i. 9); affliction
shall not rise up the second time. God will have but one blow at him;
he shall totally and finally be cut down at once. The righteous are
smitten in the branches; but the wicked at the root (Isa. xxvii. 8);
those he corrects with a rod; but these with a grounded staff (Isa.
xxx. 32); and yet the worst is behind too. For whatever a wicked man
suffers in this world is but hell typical; it is but as the falling
of leaves--the whole tree will one day fall on them. It is but as a
drop of wrath forerunning the great storm; a crack forerunning the
ruin of the whole building; it is but as paying the use-money for the
whole debt, that must be paid at last.--_Trapp._

The great principle of self-preservation implanted in our nature
which puts us on our guard against the slightest inconvenience, and
maketh us arm for the repelling of a single evil, fails to engage men
in the pursuit of that which would powerfully protect us in the most
difficult circumstances, and universally secure us against all manner
of hazards. Piety alone is that armour of proof which renders those
that wear it safe and invulnerable, and yet, as if the Christian were
the only infidel, how few of us are so thoroughly convinced of this
great truth as to pursue it with an eagerness proportionate to its
value. The text assures us--_That a religious life and conversation
is the best security against all manner of evils._ All evil to which
we can be liable, may be reduced under three heads. +I. Such as are
inflicted immediately by God.+ Here it is necessary to distinguish
between such afflictions as He vouchsafeth in mercy and those with
which He visiteth in judgment. The best of men are not exempted from
the former, they are not always so intent upon their duty, but that
they stand in need of a remembrancer, or it pleaseth God to afflict
them for the trial of their faith, for the exercise of their
patience, and to wean them from the world. But these are but like the
more difficult talks of a discreet and loving tutor; which recommend
the pupils to a higher applause and a more excellent advantage, and
are, therefore, so far from doing them any harm that they ought to be
looked upon as most valuable blessings. Those inflictions therefore
of God, which may be justly entitled to the name of evils, are such
only as He visiteth in judgment, and from such nothing can more
effectually secure us than a godly life and conversation. +II. Such
as are occasioned by ourselves.+ Many evils are the effect of sin and
carelessness, and as it is the work and office of true piety to make
us at the same time holy and considerate, it will evidently appear
that none of these evils _shall happen to the just._ +III. Such as
are brought upon us by the malice of men or devils.+ These are only
tolerated by God's connivance and permission. The devil, furious and
malicious as he is, always drags his chain after him, by which he may
be drawn back to his infernal dungeon, and therefore, unless He hath
some such favourable ends, as I formerly instanced in His own
inflictions, He will certainly keep His own out of their ravenous
jaws. Shall we then neglect the only means by which we may be
defended against such numerous calamities? To be just is no more than
to follow after the thing that is good, and good is desirable in its
own nature; we have such an inward tendency towards it that nothing
which is ill can debauch our affections, but by taking upon itself
the appearance of being good. If, then, a seeming good doth so allure
us, how ought we to be enamoured of the real substances.--_Nicholas
Brady._

The wicked are hurt, wounded, or grieved, by every occurrence, and
nothing turns to their profit.--_A. Clarke._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 23.

THE CONCEALMENT OF KNOWLEDGE AND THE PROCLAMATION OF FOOLISHNESS.

+I. The concealment of knowledge is always a mark of self-control.+
It proves that a man has himself "well in hand." He is like a skilful
workman whose tools are all arranged in order, so that he can select
or reject them according to his need, or the need of others. Or he
resembles a skilful rider who is thoroughly master of his steed, and
can either arrest his course or urge him to put forth all his speed
at any moment. If a man does not possess this power over himself he
can never be a king among men, and even the possession of knowledge
will not prove very serviceable either to himself or others. All the
treasures of his mind ought to be under the lock and key of his will,
and his will under that of his conscience, for,

+II. Under some circumstances the concealment of knowledge is a mark
of prudence.+ 1. _It is so when to proclaim it would feed personal
vanity._ To reveal our knowledge from no other motive than to let
others know that we know is to sin against ourselves by ministering
to our pride. In such a case to conceal our knowledge is a means of
grace to a man's own soul, and will carry with it the approbation of
conscience. 2. _It is also prudent to conceal knowledge when we know
that it would not benefit others._ It is not always seasonable to
reveal even the most precious knowledge that we possess. Men are
sometimes manifestly unprepared for its reception--unable to
appreciate it. God concealed the gospel of salvation from the men of
the early ages of the world because the "fulness of time" (Gal.
iv. 4) had not come, by which we understand that the world then was
not in a condition to profit by a revelation of it. Our Lord charged
His disciples not to disclose what they had witnessed on the mount of
transfiguration until "the Son of Man should be risen again from the
dead" (Matt. xvii. 9). He exhorts them also not to "cast pearls
before swine" (Matt. vii. 6). Hence we learn that concealment of
knowledge is sometimes to be preferred to a revelation of it, and
that a due regard must be had to the mental and moral condition of
those to whom we would impart it. The revelation of scientific truth
would only bewilder people of little education and small capacity,
and the revelation of even moral truth would sometimes increase men's
guilt. It would only lead them to blaspheme the God of Truth and
scoff at His messengers, and thus harden them instead of enlightening
them. And even when this is not the case men cannot always receive
all kinds of moral truth. A parent conceals from his son when he is a
boy the knowledge of things which he will reveal to him when he is a
man. A wise teacher does not at once disclose to his pupil all that
he desires him to learn. Both bring prudence into exercise, and give
"line upon line, here a little and there a little" (Isa. xxviii. 10),
following the example of the Great Father and Teacher in His dealings
with His ancient people, and that of the Incarnate Son when He said
to His disciples, _"I have many things to say unto you, but ye cannot
bear them now"_ (John xvi. 12). All who are possessors of knowledge
should always remember to bring prudence into exercise in proclaiming
it, whether it be Divine or human truth that they have to reveal.

+III. The man who tells out all he knows without any regard to the
fitness of time and circumstances proclaims only his foolishness.+ He
is as much a proclaimer of his own folly as he who should sow seed on
the high road instead of in ploughed ground. He may be very injurious
to others. If a teacher of the young were to tell out all he knows
about men and things to those under his care he might inflict on
their spiritual nature a life-long injury. Indiscreet parents who
utter all their mind and tell out all their experience in the hearing
of their children not only "proclaim their foolishness," but are a
curse to their family. They are like an unskilful surgeon who takes
the first instrument that comes to hand, regardless of its fitness
for the needs of the patient. They are like men upon a fiery steed
without power to guide him--they not only put themselves in jeopardy
but endanger the well-being of others.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Not that he grudges to impart his knowledge to others, but he does
not obtrude it or make a display of it, nor babble out all that he
knows, in order that he may be counted wise. . . . The fool, trying
to make a display of knowledge, only betrays foolishness. Fools, wise
in their own esteem, babble out everything at random; not _wisdom,_
which they have not, but _foolishness,_ which they have. Proclaiming
foolishness is attributed to a fool's _heart,_ not to his _mouth,_
for a fool's heart is in his mouth. He has no sense within. On the
contrary, "The mouth of the wise is in their heart" (Ecclus.
xxi. 26).--_Fausset._

The Apostle _concealed his knowledge_ for fourteen years, and even
then mentioned it reluctantly, to vindicate his own rightful claims
of apostleship (2 Cor. xii. 1-6). Elihu, though "full of matter," and
longing to give vent, yet _prudently concealed his knowledge,_ till
his elders had opened his way (Job xxxii. 6, 18, 19). Circumstances
may sometimes _prudently_ dictate _concealment._ Abraham spared the
feelings of his family, and cleared his own path, by hiding the
dreadful message of his God (Gen. xxii. 1-7). Joseph _concealed_ his
kindred for the discipline of his brethren (Gen. xlii. 7). Esther,
from a _prudent_ regard of consequences to herself (Esth. ii. 10).
Nothing can justify speaking contrary to the truth. But we are not
always obliged to tell the whole truth. Jeremiah answered all that he
was bound to speak; not all that he might have spoken (Jer.
xxxviii. 24). In all these cases "the wise man's heart will discern
both time and judgment" (Eccles. viii. 5; xv. 2). . . . The fool is
dogmatical in dispute, when wiser men are cautious. He is teaching,
when he ought to take the learner's place; his self-confidence
proclaiming his emptiness (1 Tim. vi. 3, 4).--_Bridges._

True are the words of Paul, "knowledge puffeth up," and the
augmentation of it may only puff up the more. This produces a very
anomalous and incongruous combination, a mind filled with solid
information and a heart distended with the emptiness of vanity. And
this generates the _pedant,_ one of the most contemptible and
disgusting of all creatures--the man who is ever showing off, ever
aiming at effect, ever speaking as nobody else would speak, ever
dwelling on his own theme in his own terms, and in every word and
look and movement, courting notice of _self,_ as the only object of
his own admiration, or worthy of admiration of others. What a fool
even the man of _knowledge_ does at times make of himself!
exemplifying the truth of the old quaint adage, _"An ounce of mother
wit is worth a pound of clergy."_ Still it is true that, the more
extensive the knowledge which a man acquires, he is, generally
speaking, the more conscious of remaining ignorance, and consequently
the less vain; that it is in the early stages of acquirement that
self-sufficiency and conceit are most apparent. It is the _empty_
that are usually the most prone to vain glory.--_Wardlaw._

_"Prudent," subtle,_ from a root meaning _crafty, cunning;_ opposed
to _"stupid,"_ literally, _fat, crass._ The saint has the highest
_craft,_ and the lost are more _fat_ in mind than even the beasts
around them.--_Miller._

Another aspect of the truth of chap. x. 14. The wise are not quick to
utter even the wisdom that deserves utterance. He broods over it,
tests it, lives by it.--_Plumptre._

We deem them not the most thrifty husbands and wealthiest men that
will lock up nothing in their coffers, nor keep anything close in
their purses, but carry all their money in their hands and show it to
every comer-by, and so do they that have no more matter within their
hearts, than all the standers-by shall hear their lips deliver. It is
a point of humility to be silent in modesty, and their words are so
much more desirable, and better accepted as they are rare, and few,
and seasonable. The ointment that is close kept in a box will yield a
sweeter savour when it is poured out, than that which is continually
open. A wine fresh from the vessel hath a better relish than that
which was drawn long before there was any need of it.--_Dod._

Think not silence the wisdom of fools, but, if rightly timed, the
honour of wise men who have not the infirmity but the virtue of
taciturnity; and speak not of the abundance, but the well-weighed
thoughts of their hearts. Such silence may be eloquence, and speak
thy worth above the power of words. Make such an one thy friend, in
whom princes may be happy, and great counsels successful. Let him
have the key of thy heart who hath the lock of his own, which no
temptation can open; where thy secrets may lastingly lie, like the
lamp in the urn of Olybius, alive and alight, but close and
invisible.--_Sir T. Browne._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 24.

The Reward of Diligence.

+I. What is here meant by diligence?+ _It is not being always active,
but active in the right direction_--active in the right use of
talents and opportunities. There is an activity that is worse than
idleness, an activity that brings men into contempt and bondage
instead of enabling them to rule themselves or others. Men may have
great talent and keep it in constant exercise, and yet their diligent
use of it may be destroying both themselves and others. A machine
that is constructed to work in one direction may be very active in
going in the opposite direction--this is worse than if it stood
still, for it will certainly work injury to itself, and may do so to
other things and to those that have to work it. A thief may be very
diligent, but his diligent hand will not bring him to _"bear rule."_
It will probably, in the end, bring him into a most irksome
servitude. There was once a Roman Emperor who was very active in
catching flies; this was certainly not the diligence which would
enable him to bear rule. If a man who is capable of a high and noble
work spends his time in a childish and ignoble manner, he is not
diligent although he may be very active. Diligence consists not in
being very busy, but in being busy in what will build up our own
moral nature and, as a necessity, bless our fellow-creatures.
Moreover, diligence is not the right exercise of our talent or the
wise use of our time at intervals, by fits and starts, but a constant
and steady continuance of that exercise and activity.

+II. The consequence of such diligence.+ He who is thus diligent will
bear rule over the slothful man--over the man who wastes his time or
his talent. 1. _This is right._ Even the slothful man must, in his
conscience, feel that he deserves to be ruled by the diligent. The
human conscience will not sanction such waste--such a destruction of
character, and, while it is allowed to speak at all, will utter its
testimony against it. And all impartial judges must concede that it
is the just reward of diligence--that, when a man has rightly used
that which the Great Ruler of the universe has committed to his
trust, it is right that he should receive the reward. _"Well done,
thou good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few
things, I will make thee ruler over many things"_ (Matt. xxv. 21).
2. _It is necessary._ First, _for the slothful man himself._ When he
is under the rule of a diligent man he is doing better with his life
than if he were left to himself; he is compelled to act, whether he
will or not, and he has the guidance of the wisdom of another when
his slothfulness has prevented him from gaining any of his own. His
slothfulness grows greater, and therefore his guilt is increased
every day that he is his own master. His powers will become more and
more incapable of being exercised the longer they are unused, and the
only thing that can save him from being entirely buried in the grave
of his own sloth is that he become a servant to a diligent man.
Secondly, _for humanity in general._ A slothful man in power is a
curse to society. If he is a husband and father, and will endanger
their characters and industrious habits. Those who rule ought to be
wise, and no slothful man can be a wise men.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

_"Diligent;"_ from a root meaning _to cut._ Hence the idea of
something _incisive_ or _decided._ The primary _idea_ is _promptness_
or _determination. "Sloth;"_ primarily _remissness_ or what is
_indecisive._ In this world, diligence puts a man at the head. In the
eternal world, it will have made the man a king, and made all hell,
and of course, all "sloth, under tribute" to him.--_Miller._

This was Joseph's road to _bearing rule_ (chap. xxii. 29). But if it
does not raise in the world, it will command in its own sphere. The
faithful steward is made ruler over his lord's household (Matt.
xxiv. 45-47). The active trader _bears rule_ over many cities (_Ib._
xxv. 21). Diligence, therefore, is not a moral virtue separate from
religion, but rather a component part of it.--_Bridges._

The slothful are like Issachar, who saw that the rest was good, and
bowed down his shoulder to bear, and became a servant to tribute; by
their laziness they expose themselves to want, and reduce themselves
to a slaving dependence on those who, through the blessing of God on
their own diligence, or on that of their fathers, are in better
circumstances. Spiritual sloth weakens men, and exposes them to the
spiritual sloth of their spiritual enemies. We must be strong,
resolute, and active, if we would escape the tyranny of the rulers of
the darkness of this world (Ephes. vi. 10-18).--_Lawson._

The comparison is suggested by the contrast common in most ancient
monarchies in the east, between the condition of a conquered race,
compelled to pay heavy taxes in money or in kind (like the Canaanites
in Israel, Josh. xvi. 10; Judges i. 30-33), and that of the freedom
of their conquerors from such burdens. The proverb indicates that
beyond all political divisions of this nature there lies an ethical
law. The "slothful" descend inevitably to pauperism and servitude.
The prominence of this compulsory labour under Solomon (1 Kings
ix. 21), gives a special significance to the
illustration.--_Plumptre._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 25.

HEAVINESS OF HEART AND ITS CURE.

+I. The causes of "heaviness of heart" are many and various.+ It may
arise, 1. _From great bodily pain._ The human mind and the human body
act and re-act upon each other. The mind or spirit may be made heavy
by physical pain, as the body may be brought under the dominion of
disease by mental suffering. It is only when a more powerful
influence comes into operation that pain of body is prevented from
exercising a depressing influence upon the spirit. In the case of Job
we have an instance of severe bodily suffering, weighing down a
spirit that had borne other most terrible calamities without being
overcome (Job vii). In the case of Stephen, and many others, we see
intense bodily suffering exercising no depressing influence upon the
man, because he is lifted above it by supernatural interposition.
When this special grace is not given pain of body will make the heart
"to stoop"--that is, it will disqualify the man for duty by depriving
him of hope and courage, and will leave him more or less passive in
the hands of circumstances. 2. _Heaviness of heart is often caused by
bringing the future into the present._ The man that has every day to
carry a heavy burden upon his shoulders will find that an attempt to
carry the load of two days at once will weigh down his body beyond
all his power to rise and stand upright. The weight of the present is
as much as he can carry, his heart must "stoop," if he dwells upon
the possible or certain trials of the future. The right way to bear
burdens is to take the advice of One who Himself was a burden-bearer.
_"Take therefore no thought (no anxious care) for the morrow; for the
morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto
the day is the evil thereof."_ There are many other burdens which
make the heart to stoop, we will mention but one more. 3. _A
consciousness of unpardoned guilt._ There is no burden so heavy to
bear as this. Guilt makes the spirit feel as if the hand of God's
displeasure was sinking the soul lower and lower. The language of
Scripture is very vivid in describing the feelings of man in such a
case. _"When I kept silence my bones waxed old, through my roaring
all day long." "Mine iniquities are gone over mine head; as a heavy
burden, they are too heavy for me." "Mine iniquities have taken hold
upon me, so that I am not able to look up,"_ etc. (Psa. xxxii. 3;
xxxviii. 4; xl. 12).

+II. The human heart can be uplifted by seasonable words.+ "A good
word maketh it glad." Such words sometimes take the form of a promise
of help. A man bowed down by disease is made glad by the word of the
physician, which assures him that his malady can be cured. The debtor
who feels himself hopelessly involved is made glad by the promise of
one who engages to meet his debts. The man who is bowed down under a
sense of guilt is lifted out of his heaviness by the promises of a
forgiving God. In all these cases the worth of the word depends upon
the character of him who utters them. It is a "good word" if it is
not only a _cheering_ word, but a _reliable_ word--if the promise is
uttered by one whom we know would not promise what he was unable to
perform. It is this certainty which makes every promise of God so
_good_ a _word_ to the soul. And when a man's heaviness of heart
arises from a source which is beyond the power of human help, there
is no greater service that a friend can do him than to remind him of
some "good word" of the Heavenly Father which is suitable to his case.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Not "heaviness," but _"anxiety."_ This last is the fashion of most
griefs. We are bound to conquer it. The _determined_ man (see
comments on verse 24) is just the character to do it. "Anxiety"
discredits faith. "A good word," and such words are plenty in this
very book, should _gladden_ it, as the expression is; or, as a freer
translation, _"cheer it away."_ It is a sin for men to be dejected.
It is a great folly, too; for it broods over half their lives. Our
passage tells all this, and tells the mode to dissipate it. It was
the mode of Christ when he quelled the foul fiend. The sword of the
Spirit is the "word" of God (Ephes. vi. 17).--_Miller._

There is nothing that claims our grief so much as sin, and yet there
may be an excess of sorrow for sin, which exposes men to the devil
and drives them into his arms.--_Lawson._

A single good or favourable word will remove despondency; and that
word, "Son, be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee," will
instantly remove despair.--_A. Clarke._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 26.

THE GUIDE AND THE SEDUCER.

Translating this verse, "The righteous guides his neighbour aright,"
we remark:--

+I. That the righteous man guides his neighbour both by his word and
by his life.+ He guides him by wise counsel--by giving him "a word in
season" (see verse 25)--and he more especially guides him by his holy
life. His character is a revealer of the way of life. The light which
shines through a lantern reveals the path, not only to the man who
carries it, but to him who beholds it if he should be disposed to
follow in the same road. The righteous man is a light-bearer--he has
moral light within him, which breaks forth in the acts of his daily
life, and sets a good example to other men, and so, to some extent,
his life, like that of his Master's, is a "light of men."

+II. That he guides him aright because he shows him how to make the
most of his life.+ Men are generally anxious to live long, and the
righteous man shows his neighbour how to live _long_ by living
_well._ A husbandman values his trees, not by the length of time they
have stood in the ground, but by the amount of fruit they yield.
There are trees which bring forth more fruit in one season than
others do during the whole time they stand in the orchard. And the
length of a man's life is to be estimated not by the number of years
he has been in the world, but in the use which he has made of them.
Many men who leave the world comparatively young have lived longer,
because to more purpose, than others who have not died until they
were a hundred years old (On this subject see homiletics on chap.
x. 17, page 164).

+III. That the wicked man also exercises an influence upon his
neighbour; but his influence leads to evil.+ He is a _seducer_--one
who leads astray by false professions and promises. Like the good
man, he emits a light, but it is the false light of the _ignis
fatuus,_ which is the offspring of the stagnant swamp, and which will
only lure him who follows it to destruction. One of the chief
employments of the bad, and that which seems to afford them the
greatest pleasure, is to carry other men to ruin. And even when the
wicked man is not an _active_ seducer, his _way,_ or his life,
seduces his neighbour. The force of an evil example is very great,
and men are insensibly influenced by it. Men of ungodliness diffuse
around them an atmosphere of moral unhealthiness, which insensibly
affects those around them, who are not godly, and strengthens them in
all their downward tendencies. Such men are "as graves which appear
not" (Luke xi. 44), and are centres of spiritual disease and death.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

If then, the "righteous be more excellent than his neighbour," how is
it that men do not follow their way? Because "the way of the wicked,
which is apparently more _excellent,_ or _abundant_ in temporal
advantages, seduces them" _(Kimchi in Mercer),_ It "seduceth" with
false hopes, doomed in the end to destruction.--_Fausset._

The way of the godless leads them into error; the course of life to
which they have given themselves up has such a power over them that
they cannot set themselves free from it, and it leads the enslaved
into destruction. The righteous, on the contrary, is free with
respect to the way which he takes, and the place where he stays. His
view (regard) is directed to his true advancement, and he _looks
after his pasture_ (see Critical Notes), _i.e.,_ examines and
discovers where, for him, right pastures, _i.e.,_ the advancement of
his outer and inner life, is to be found.--_Delitzsch._

Let him dwell by whomsoever, he is ever a better man than his
neighbours; he is "a prince of God" among them, as Abraham was
amongst the Hittites. Said Agesilaus, when he heard the King of
Persia style himself the Great King--"I acknowledge none more
excellent than myself, unless more righteous; none greater, unless
better." "Upon all the glory shall be a defence" (Isa. iv. 5)--that
is, upon all the righteous, those only glorious, those "excellent of
the earth" (Psa. xvi. 2), that are "sealed to the day of redemption"
(Ephes. iv. 30). Now, whatsoever is sealed with a seal, that is
excellent in its own kind, as Isa. xxviii. 25. The poorest village is
an ivory palace, saith Luther, if it have in it but a minister and a
few good people. But the wicked will not be persuaded of the good
man's excellency, he cannot discern, nor will not be drawn to believe
that there is any such gain in godliness, any such difference between
the righteous and the wicked. He, therefore, goes another way to
work.--_Trapp._

I. _In regard to their condition in this present life._ They have all
prerogatives and preferments. By parentage every one of them is God's
child. By dignity they are all kings. By inheritance they have title
to heaven and earth; their food is heavenly manna, their clothing is
Christ's righteousness, their attendants are the holy
angels.--II. _In respect of their state that shall be in the life to
come._ They shall have perfect happiness, and be made like unto Jesus
Christ, more excellent and puissant than the most glorious
angels.--_Dod._

The _"wicked"_ man not only does not _"guide"_ his neighbour, but
does not guide himself, actually _"leads"_ himself _"astray."_ Here
is the same climax we have so often noticed (chap. xi. 14).--_Miller._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 27.

THE LOSS OF THE SLOTHFUL, AND THE GAIN OF THE DILIGENT.

+I. Even the slothful man may be sometimes roused to activity.+ He is
here represented as having made an effort, he has "taken spoil in
hunting." There are probably few men who are not sometimes roused to
exertion, who do not every now and then make a start towards an
industrious life, but they lack perseverance, they do not let one act
of industry follow upon another so as to form industrious habits.
Therefore--

+II. The slothful man loses by negligence what he has gained.+ "He
roasteth not that which he took in hunting." He is too lazy to finish
his work. He naturalises the one action by neglecting to perform the
other. The food that he has taken is wasted because he is too lazy to
roast it, and therefore he might as well have remained idle
altogether.

+III. He may thus rob an industrious man.+ The game which he has
taken and wasted might have fallen into better hands. Another man
might have taken it and put it to good use. A man has no right thus
to deprive another of what he is too lazy to put to a good use
himself.

+IV. A diligent habit of life is a fortune in itself.+ 1. _It is a
possession of which a man cannot be robbed by any of the mischances
of life._ A habit is a second nature, and if a man has once acquired
the habit of a diligent improvement of his time and opportunities, he
can no more lose it than he can his identity. It can be touched by no
rise or fall of the market, nor affected by any commercial panic. If
he is rich, he will be diligent, and if he becomes poor he will make
the most of what still remains to him. 2. _It is a source of
continual satisfaction._ God has made men for work, and a rightly
constituted mind is never so happy as when all its powers are
actively employed. It is a great source of consolation in times of
sorrow to have acquired industrious, active habits, for they often
help a man to forget, or to rise above his trials. 3. _It makes a
man, in one respect, an imitator of God._ The Eternal Ruler of the
universe is ever active; diligence is one of His attributes. It is
the boast of the Hebrew prophet, concerning the everlasting God, that
"He fainteth not, neither is weary" (Isaiah xl. 28). Christ declares
that He and His Father are unceasing in their activities: "My father
worketh hitherto, and I work" (John v. 17).

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

What a diligent man gains becomes, in his hands, precious by the use
he makes of it. It is the means of further increase. And his
substance becomes "precious" to others as well as to himself. It is
industriously, profitably, benevolently used. In _this_ lies the true
value of a man's substance;--not in the _acquisition,_ but in the
_use._--_Wardlaw._

By translating _remiyah_ the _deceitful,_ instead of the _slothful_
man, which appears to be the genuine meaning of the word, we may
obtain a good sense, as the Vulgate has done. "The deceitful man
shall not find gain, but the substance of a (just) man shall be the
price of gold." But our version, allowing _remiyah_ to be translated
_fraudulent,_ gives the best sense. "The fraudulent man roasteth not
that which he took in hunting," the justice of God snatching from him
what he had acquired unrighteously. Coverdale translates "A
dis-creatfull man schal fynde no vauntage: but he that is content
with what he hath, is more worth than golde."--_A. Clarke._

The substance of a diligent man is great in value, whatsoever it be
in quantity, as a small boxful of pearls is more worth than mountains
of pebbles. The house of the righteous hath much treasure. He is
without that care in getting, fear in keeping, grief in losing--those
three fell vultures that feed continually on the heart of the rich
worldling, and dis-sweeten all his comforts. Jabal, that dwelt in
tents, and tended the herds, had Jubal to his brother, the father of
music. Jabal and Jubal, diligence and complacence, good husbandry and
well-contenting sufficiency, dwell usually together.--_Trapp._

Is not this a graphical picture of _the slothful_ professor? He will
take up religion under strong excitement. He begins a new course, and
perhaps makes some advance in it. But, "having no root in himself,"
his good frames and resolutions wither away (Matt. xiii. 20, 21). The
continued exertion required, the violence that must be done to his
deep-rooted habits, the difficulties in his new path, the invitations
to present ease, all hang as a weight upon his efforts. . . . No
present blessing can be enjoyed without grasping something beyond
(Phil. iii. 12-14). Godliness without energy loses _its full reward_
(2 John 8).--_Bridges._

The impenitent, who wait for something to turn up, are the same type
of lazy people as love hunting and fishing better than more regular
labour. The wise man goes to the root and says, There are no such
hunting gains in the spiritual world. He goes further. He seems to
remind his reader that character is all that will be left for a man
at the last. He seems to imply that man will bring home from his hunt
nothing but "his laziness," and would ask whether one can "roast"
that like a quail or a duck. And though we start at such horrible
absurdity, yet it brings out in keen light a very different
possibility for diligence. Diligence _can_ be roasted. It earns for
us an eternal heaven, and yet, for all it gets, it is itself our
richest dainty. _"One cannot roast laziness as something he has taken
in the chase; but a precious treasure of a man is a diligent one."_
It is tantalizing to come so near other and important renderings.
Many see very plausibly a meaning like this: _"The slothful man
roasteth not that which he took in hunting"_ (so far the English
version), meaning that he is wasteful, and suffers what he has
actually now to run to loss; _"but the substance of a common man"_
(making the distinction as in verse 14) _"is precious"_ (that is,
made account of, and kept) _"by a man of diligence."_ A sinner throws
away treasures; a saint values the very smallest. This would be a
fine sense if the verse before meant that the _"saint gains from his
neighbour."_ _Per contra,_ though, there are difficulties. _"The
slothful man"_ (E.V.) in the Hebrew is the _"sloth"_ or _"laziness"_
itself. And the word is feminine, and must be the object rather than
the subject of the verb. The meaning is, that sloth cannot be roasted
and eaten, but diligence can.--_Miller._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 28.

THE WAY OF LIFE.

+I. There is a way of righteousness in the world.+ 1. _This fact is
universally recognised._ Men regard each other as moral and
responsible beings. The doctrine of necessity will not do for
every-day life. In all positions and conditions, man is met with the