Chapter VII: Introduction: § 1. on the Authorship, Form, Design, and Contents of the Book (3)

VER. 21. The question is here, as so often in Hebrew, the
strongest form of negative. As in ver. 19 the Preacher
affirms of man and beast that "both have the same spirit,"
and, in ver. 20, that "both go to the same place," so, in
this verse, he emphatically denies that there is any
difference in their destination at death.

22 Wherefore I saw that there is nothing better for man
Than to rejoice in his labours;
For this is his portion:
And who shall give him to see what will be after him?

[Sidenote: iv.]

1 Then I turned to consider once more
All the oppressions that are done under the sun:
I beheld the tears of the oppressed,
And they had no comforter;
And their oppressors were violent,
Yet had they no comforter:

2 And I accounted the dead who died long ago
Happier than the living who are still alive;

3 While happier than either is he who hath not been born,
Who hath not seen the evil which is done under the sun.

[Sidenote: _It is rendered hopeless by the base Origin of Human Industries._ Ch. iv., vv. 4-8.]

4 Then too I saw that all this toil,
And all this dexterity in toil,
Spring from man's rivalry with his neighbour:
This also is vanity and vexation of spirit.

5 The sluggard foldeth his hands,
Yet he eateth his meat:

6 Better a handful of quiet
Than two handsful of labour with vexation of spirit.

7 And again I turned, and saw a vanity under the sun:

8 Here is a man who hath no one with him,
Not even a son or a brother;
And yet there is no end of all his labour,
Neither are his eyes satisfied with riches:
For whom, then, doth he labour and deny his soul any of his wealth?
This too is vanity and an evil work.

[Sidenote: _Yet these are capable of a nobler Motive and Mode._ Ch. iv., vv. 9-16.]

9 Two are better than one,
Because they have a good reward for their labour:

10 For if one fall, the other will lift up his fellow;
But woe to the lonely one who falleth
And hath no fellow to lift him up!

11 Moreover, if two sleep together, they are warm;
But he that is alone, how can he be warm?

12 And if an enemy assail the one, two will withstand him.
And a threefold cord is not easily broken.

13 Happier is a poor and wise youth
Than an old and foolish king
Who even yet has not learned to take warning;

14 For he goeth forth from the prison to the throne,
Although he was born a poor man in the kingdom.

15 I see all the living who walk under the sun
Flocking to the youth who stood up in his stead;

16 There is no end to the multitude of the people over whom he ruleth:
Nevertheless those who live after him will not rejoice in him;
For even this is vanity and vexation of spirit.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _So also a nobler and happier Mode of Worship is open to men:_ Ch. v., vv. 1-7.]

1 Keep thy foot when thou goest to the House of God;
For it is better to obey than to offer the sacrifice of fools,
Who know not when they do evil.

2 Do not hurry on thy mouth,
And do not force thy heart to utter words before God;
For God is in heaven, and thou upon earth:
Therefore let thy words be few.

3 For as a dream cometh through much occupation,
So foolish talk through many words.

4 When thou vowest a vow unto God,
Defer not to pay it;
For he is a fool whose will is not steadfast.
Pay that which thou hast vowed.

5 Better that thou shouldest not vow
Than that thou shouldest vow and not pay.

6 Suffer not thy mouth to cause thy flesh to sin,
And say not before the Angel, "It was an error:"
For why should God be angry at thine idle talk
And destroy the work of thy hands?

VER. 6. _Before the Angel._ That is, before the Angel who,
as the Hebrews thought, presided over the altar of worship,
and who was present even when only two or three met for the
study of the Law: to study the Law being in itself an act of
worship.

7 For in many words, as in many dreams, there is vanity:
But fear thou God.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _And a more helpful and consolatory Trust in the Divine Providence._ Ch. v., vv. 8-17.]

8 If thou seest the oppression of the poor,
And the perversion of justice in the State,
Be not dismayed thereat;
For superior watcheth superior,
And superiors again watch over them:

9 And the advantage for the people is, that it extendeth to all,
For even the king is servant to the field.

VER. 9. Some commentators prefer another possible reading of
this difficult verse: _But the profit of a land is every way
a king devoted to the field, i.e._ a lover and promoter of
good husbandry. This reading, however, does not, I think,
harmonise so well with the context as that given above.

10 He that loveth silver is never satisfied with silver,
Nor he that clingeth to riches with what they yield:
This too is vanity;

11 For when riches increase they increase that consume them:
What advantage then hath the owner thereof,
Save the looking thereupon with his eyes?

12 Sweet is the sleep of the husbandman,
Whether he eat little or much;
While abundance suffereth not the rich to sleep.

13 There is a great evil which I have seen under the sun--
Riches hoarded up by the rich
To the hurt of the owner thereof:

14 For the riches perish in some unlucky adventure,
And he begetteth a son when he hath nothing in his hand:

15 As he cometh forth from the womb of his mother,
Even as he cometh naked,
So also he returneth again,
And taketh nothing from his labour
Which he may carry away in his hand.

16 This also is a great evil,
That just as he came so he must go.
For what profit hath he who laboureth for the wind?

17 Yet all his days he eateth in darkness,
And is much perturbed, and hath vexation and grief.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _The Conclusion._ Ch. v., vv. 18-20.]

18 Behold, that which I have said holds good,--
That it is well for man to eat and to drink
And to enjoy the good of all his labour wherein he laboureth
under the sun,
Through the brief day of his life which God hath given him:
For this is his portion.

19 And I have also said,
That a man to whom God hath given riches and wealth,
If He hath also enabled him to eat thereof,
And to take his portion and to rejoice in his labour;--
This is a gift of God:

20 He doth not fret because the days of his life are not many,
For God hath sanctioned the joy of his heart.

THIRD SECTION.

_THE QUEST IN WEALTH AND IN THE GOLDEN MEAN._

CHAPS. VI., VER. 1, TO VIII., VER. 15.

[Sidenote: _The Quest in Wealth. He who makes Riches his Chief Good is haunted by Fears and Perplexities_: Ch. vi., vv. 1-6.]

1 There is another evil which I have seen under the sun,
And it weigheth heavily upon men:

2 Here is a man to whom God hath given riches and wealth and abundance,
So that his soul lacketh nothing of all that it desireth;
And God hath not given him the power to enjoy it,
But a stranger enjoyeth it:
This is vanity and a great evil.

3 Though one beget a hundred children,
And live many years,
Yea, however many the days of his years,
Yet if his soul be not satisfied with good,
Even though the grave did not wait for him,
Better is an abortion than he:

4 For this cometh in nothingness and goeth in darkness,
And its memory is shrouded in darkness;

5 It doth not even see and know the sun:
It hath more rest than he.

6 And if he live twice a thousand years and see no good:--
Do not both go to the same place?

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _For God has put Eternity into his Heart_; Ch. vi., vv. 7-10.]

7 All the labour of this man is for his mouth;
Therefore his soul cannot be satisfied:

8 For what advantage hath the wise man over the fool,
Or what the poor man over the stately magnate?

VER. 8. _The magnate._ Literally, "he who knoweth to walk
before the living;" some "great person," some man of eminent
station, who is much in the eye of the public.

9 It is better, indeed, to enjoy the good we have
Than to crave a good beyond our reach:
Yet even this is vanity and vexation of spirit.

VER. 9. _To enjoy the good we have_, etc. Literally, "Better
is that which is seen by the eyes (the present good) than
that which is pursued by the soul (the distant and uncertain
good)."

10 That which hath been was long since ordained;
And it is very certain that even the greatest is but a man,
And cannot contend with Him who is mightier than he.

[Sidenote: _And much that he gains only feeds Vanity;_]

11 Moreover there are many things which increase vanity:
What advantage then hath man?

[Sidenote: _Nor can he tell what will become of his Gains._]

12 And who knoweth what is good for man in life,
The brief day of his vain life which he spendeth as a shadow?
And who can tell what shall be after him under the sun?

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _The Quest in the Golden Mean. The Method of the Man who pursues it._ Ch. vii., vv. 1-14.]

1 A good name is better than good nard,
And the day of death better than the day of one's birth:

2 It is better to go to the house of mourning
Than to the house of feasting,
Because this is the end of every man,
And the living should lay it to heart:

VER. 2. "Because _this_ is the end;" _i.e._ the death
bewailed in the house of mourning.

3 Better is serious thought than wanton mirth,
For by a sad countenance the heart is bettered:

4 The heart of the wise therefore is in the house of mourning,
But in the house of mirth is the heart of fools.

5 It is better for a man to listen to the reproof of the wise
Than to listen to the song of fools;

6 For the laughter of fools is like the crackling of thorns under a pot:
This also is vanity.

VER. 6. _The laughter of fools_, etc. There is a play on
words in the original which cannot be reproduced in English.
Dean Plumptre, following the lead of Delitzsch, proposes as
the nearest equivalents, "As crackling nettles under
kettles," or "As crackling stubble makes the pot bubble."

7 Wrong-doing maketh the wise man mad,
As a bribe corrupteth the heart.

8 The end of a reproof is better than its beginning,
And patience is better than pride;

9 Therefore hurry not on thy spirit to be angry:
For anger is nursed in the bosom of fools.

10 Say not, "How is it that former days were better than these?"
For that is not the part of wisdom.

11 Wisdom is as good as wealth,
And hath an advantage over it for those who lead an active life:

VER. 11. _Those who lead an active life._ Literally, "those
who see the sun," _i.e._ those who are much in the sun, who
lead a busy active life, are much occupied with traffic or
public affairs.

12 For wisdom is a shelter,
And wealth is a shelter;
But the advantage of wisdom is
That it fortifieth the heart of them that have it.

VER. 12. _Fortifieth the heart; i.e._ quickens life, a new
life, a life which keeps the heart tranquil and serene under
all chances and changes.

13 Consider moreover the work of God,
Since no man can straighten that which He hath made crooked.

14 In the day of prosperity be thou content;
And in the day of adversity
Consider that God hath made this as well as that,
In order that man should not be able to foresee that which is to come.

VER. 14.: _In the day of prosperity_, etc. Literally, "in
the day of good be in good." It may be rendered "in the good
day be of good cheer." _This as well as that; i.e._
adversity as well as prosperity. God sends both in order
that, not foreseeing what will come to pass, we may live in
a constant and humble dependence on Him.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _The Perils to which it exposes him._ (1) _He is likely to compromise Conscience_: Ch. vii., vv. 15-20.]

15 In my fleeting days I have seen
Both the righteous die in his righteousness,
And the wicked live long in his wickedness:

16 Be not too righteous therefore,
Nor make thyself too wise lest thou be abandoned;

17 Be not very wicked, nor yet very foolish,
Lest thou die before thy time:

18 It is better that thou shouldest lay hold of this
And also not let go of that;
For whoso feareth God will take hold on both.

VER. 18. _This ... and that._ _This__ refers to the folly
and wickedness of ver. 17, and _that_ to the wisdom and
righteousness of ver. 16. _Take hold on both._ Literally,
"go along with both."

19 This wisdom alone is greater strength to the wise
Than an army to a beleaguered city;

VER. 19. _This wisdom_: viz. the moderate common-sense view
of life which has just been described. _Than an army_, etc.
Literally, "Than _ten_ (_i.e._ many) mighty men in a city."

20 For there is not a righteous man on earth
Who doeth good and sinneth not.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: (2) _To be indifferent to Censure_: Ch. vii., vv. 21, 22.]

21 Moreover seek not to know all that is said of thee,
Lest thou hear thy servant speak evil of thee;

VER. 21. _Seek not to know_, etc. Literally, "Give not thy
_heart_ (even if thy ears) to all words that are uttered."

22 For thou knowest in thine heart
That thou also hast many times spoken evil of others.

23 All this wisdom have I tried;
I desired a higher wisdom, but it was far from me;

24 That which was far off remaineth far off,
And deep remaineth deep:
Who can find it out?

[Sidenote: (3) _To despise Women_; Ch. vii., vv. 25-29.]

25 Then I and my heart turned to know this wisdom
And diligently examine it--
To discover the cause of wickedness, vice,
And that folly which is madness:

26 And I found woman more bitter than death;
She is a net;
Her heart is a snare, and her hands are chains:
Whoso is good before God shall escape her,
But the sinner shall be taken by her.

27 Behold, what I have found, saith the Preacher--
Taking things one by one to reach the result--

28 I have found one man among a thousand,
But in all that number a woman have I not found:

29 Lo, this only have I found,
That God made man upright,
But that they seek out many devices.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: (4) _And to be indifferent to Public Wrongs._ Ch. viii., vv. 1-13.]

1 Who is like the wise man?
And who like him that understandeth the interpretation of this saying?
The wisdom of this man maketh his face bright,
And his rude features are refined.

VER. 1. _This saying_: _i.e._ that which follows. _And his
rude features_, etc. Culture lends an air of refinement to
the face, carriage, manners.

2 I say then, Obey the king's commandment,
And the rather because of the oath of fealty:
8?

VER. 2. _The oath of fealty._ Literally, "the oath by God."
The Babylonian and Persian despots exacted an oath of
loyalty from conquered races. Each had to swear by the god
he worshipped.

3 Do not throw off thine allegiance,
Nor resent an evil word,
For he can do whatsoever he please;

VER. 3. _Do not throw off_, etc. Literally, "Do not hurry
from his presence, or even stand up because of an evil
word." To stand up in the divan of an Eastern despot is a
sign of resentment; to rush from it a sign of disloyalty and
rebellion.

4 For the word of a king is mighty;
And who shall say to him, "What doest thou?"

5 Whoso keepeth his commandment will know no evil.
Moreover the heart of the wise man foreseeth a time of retribution--

6 For there is a time of retribution for all things--
When the tyranny of man is heavy upon him:

7 Because he knoweth not what will be,
And because no one can tell him when it will be.

VER. 7. _Because he knoweth not_; _i.e._ the tyrant does not
know. The sense seems to be: Retribution is all the more
certain because, in his infatuation, the despot does not
foresee the disastrous results of his tyranny, and because
no one can tell him when or how they will disclose
themselves.

8 No man is ruler over his own spirit,
To retain the spirit,
Nor has he any power over the day of his death;
And there is no furlough in this war,
And no craft will save the wicked.

9 All this have I seen,
Having applied my heart to all that is done under the sun.

VER. 9.: _All this have I seen; i.e._ all this retribution
on tyrants and the consequent deliverance of the oppressed.

10 But there is a time when a man ruleth over men to their hurt.
Thus I have seen wicked men buried,
And come again;
And those who did right depart from the place of the holy,
And be forgotten in the city:
This also is vanity.

VER. 10.: But the Preacher has also seen times when
retributive justice did _not_ overtake the oppressors, when
they _came again_ in the persons of children as wicked and
tyrannical as themselves.

11 Because sentence against an evil deed is not executed forthwith,
The heart of the sons of men is set in them to do evil.

VER. 11.: _Because sentence_, etc. "God does not always pay
on Saturdays," says an old Italian proverb.

12 Though a sinner do evil a hundred years,
And groweth old therein,
Yet I know that it shall be well with those who fear God,
Who truly fear before Him;

13 And it shall not be well with the wicked,
But, like a shadow, he shall not prolong his days,
Because he doth not fear before God.

[Sidenote: _Therefore the Preacher condemns this View of Human Life._]

14 Nevertheless, this vanity doth happen on the earth,
That there are righteous men who have a wage like that of the wicked,
And there are wicked men who have a wage like that of the righteous:
This too, I said, is vanity.

15 And I commended mirth,
Because there is nothing better for man under the sun
Than to eat, and to drink, and to be merry;
For this will go with him to his work
Through the days of his life,
Which God giveth him under the sun.

VER. 15.: "And _this_ will go with him:" viz. this clear
enjoying temper, than which, as yet, the Preacher has found
"nothing better."

FOURTH SECTION.

_THE QUEST OF THE CHIEF GOOD ACHIEVED._

CHAP. VIII., VER. 16, TO CHAP. XII., VER. 7.

[Sidenote: _The Chief Good not to be found in Wisdom_:

Ch. viii., v. 16.-Ch. ix., v. 6.]

16 As then I applied my heart to acquire wisdom,
And to see the work which is done under the sun--
And such a one seeth no sleep with his eyes by day or by night:

17 I saw that man cannot find out all the work of God
Which is done under the sun;
Though man labour to discover it,
He cannot find it out;
And though the wise may say he understandeth it
Nevertheless he hath not found it out.

VER. 17.: To illustrate this verse Dean Plumptre happily
quotes Hooker's noble and familiar words: "Dangerous it were
for the feeble brain of man to wade far into the doings of
the Most High; whom although to know be life, and joy to
make mention of His name, yet our soundest knowledge is to
know that we know Him not as indeed He is, neither can know
Him, and our safest eloquence concerning Him is our silence,
when we confess without confession that His glory is
inexplicable, his greatness above our capacity and reach."

[Sidenote: ix.]

1 For all this have I taken to heart and explored,
That the righteous, and the wise, and their labours are in the
hand of God:
They know not whether they shall meet love or hatred;
All lies before them.
All are treated alike;

VER. 1.: _They know not whether they shall meet love or
hatred_ may mean that even the wisest cannot tell whether
they shall meet (1) the love or the enmity of God, as shown
in adverse or favourable providences; or (2) the things
which they love or hate; or (3) the love or the hatred of
their fellows. The last of the three seems the most likely.

_All lies before them; i.e._ all possible chances, changes,
events. Only God can determine or foresee what is coming to
meet them.

2 The same fate befalleth to the righteous and to the wicked,
To the good and pure and to the impure,
To him that sacrificeth and to him that sacrificeth not;
As with the good so is it with the sinner,
With him that sweareth as with him who feareth an oath.

3 This is the greatest evil of all that is done under the sun,
That there is one fate for all:
And that, although the heart of the sons of men is full of evil,
And madness is in their hearts through life,
Yet, after it, they go to the dead;

VER. 3.: The words of this verse do not, as they stand, seem
to carry on the logical sequence of thought. The Preacher's
complaint is that even the wise and the good are not
exempted from the common fate, not that the foolish and
reckless are exposed to it. The text may be corrupt; but
Ginsburg is content with it. A good reading of it, however,
is still wanting.

4 For who is exempted?
To all the living there is hope,
For a living dog is better than a dead lion;

5 For the living know that they shall die,
But the dead know not anything;
And there is no more any compensation to them,
For the very memory of them is gone:

6 Their love, too, no less than their hatred and rivalry, hath perished;
And there is no part for them in ought that is done under the sun.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _Nor in Pleasure:_ Ch. ix., vv. 7-12.]

7 Go, then, eat thy bread with gladness,
And drink thy wine with a merry heart,
Since God hath accepted thy works:

8 Let thy garments be always white;
Let no perfume be lacking to thy head:

9 And enjoy thyself with any woman whom thou lovest
All the days of thy life
Which He giveth thee under the sun,
All thy fleeting days:
For this is thy portion in life,
And in the labour which thou labourest under the sun.

VER. 9.: "Enjoy thyself with _any_ woman." The word here
rendered "woman" does not mean "wife." And as the Hebrew
Preacher is here speaking under the mask of the lover of
pleasure, this immoral maxim is at least consistent with the
part he plays. More than one good critic, however, read "a
wife" for "any woman."

10 Whatsoever thine hand findeth to do,
Do it whilst thou art able;
For there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in Hades,
Whither thou goest.

11 Then I turned and saw under the sun,
That the race is not to the swift,
Nor the battle to the strong;
Nor yet bread to the wise,
Nor riches to the intelligent,
Nor favour to the learned;

12 But time and chance happen to all,
And that man doth not even know his time:
Like fish taken in a fatal net,
And like birds caught in a snare,
So are the sons of men entrapped in the time of their calamity,
When it falleth suddenly upon them.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _Nor in Devotion to Public Affairs and its Rewards_: Ch. ix., v. 13-Ch. x. v. 20.]

13 This wisdom also have I seen under the sun,
And it seemed great to me--

14 There was a little city,
And few men in it,
And a great king came against it and besieged it,
And threw up a military causeway against it:

15 Now there was found in it a poor wise man,
And he saved that city by his wisdom;
Yet no one remembered this same poor man.

16 Therefore say I,
Though wisdom is better than strength,
Yet the wisdom of the poor is despised,
And his words are not listened to:

17 Though the quiet words of the wise have much advantage
Over the vociferations of a fool of fools,
And wisdom is better than weapons of war,
Yet one fool destroyeth much good:

[Sidenote: x.]

1 As a dead fly maketh sweet ointment to stink,
So a little folly overpowereth (much) wisdom and honour.

2 Nevertheless the mind of the wise man turns toward his right hand,
But the mind of the fool to his left;

3 For so soon as the fool setteth his foot in the street
He betrayeth his lack of understanding;
Yet he saith of every one (he meeteth), "He is a fool!"

VER. 3.: _Setteth his foot in the street._ Literally,
"walketh in the road." The sentence seems to be a proverb
used to denote the extreme stupidity of the fool who, the
very moment he leaves his house, is bewildered, cannot even
find his way from one familiar spot to another, and sees his
own folly in every face he meets.

4 If the anger of thy ruler be kindled against thee,
Resent it not:
Patience will avert a graver wrong.

VER. 4.: _Resent it not._ Literally, "Quit not thy
place."--See note on chapter viii., ver. 3.

5 There is an evil which I have seen under the sun,
An outrage which only a ruler can commit:

6 A great fool is lifted to high place,
While the noble sit degraded:

7 I have seen servants upon horses,
And masters walking like servants on the ground.

VER. 7.: To ride upon a horse is still a mark of distinction
in many Eastern States. In Turkish cities, till of late, no
Christian was permitted to ride any nobler beast than an ass
or a mule: so neither were the Jews, in the Middle Ages, in
any Christian city.

8 Yet he that diggeth a pit shall fall into it;
And whoso breaketh down a wall a serpent shall bite him;

9 He who pulleth down stones shall be hurt therewith;
And whoso cleaveth logs shall be cut.

10 If the axe be blunt, and he do not whet the edge,
He must put on more strength;
But wisdom should teach him to sharpen it.

VER. 10.: Ginsburg renders this difficult and much-disputed
passage thus: "If the axe be blunt, and he do not sharpen it
beforehand, he shall only increase the army; the advantage
of repairing hath wisdom," and explains it as meaning: "If
any insulted subject lift a blunt axe against the trunk of
despotism, he will only make the tyrant increase his army,
and thereby augment his own sufferings; but it is the
prerogative of wisdom to repair the mischief which such
precipitate folly occasions." I have offered what seems a
simpler explanation in the comment on this passage, and have
tried to give a simpler, yet not less accurate, rendering in
the text. But there are almost as many readings of this
difficult verse as there are critics; and it is impossible
to do more than make a hesitating choice among them.

11 If the serpent bite because it is not charmed,
There is no advantage to the charmer.

VER. 11.: _The charmer._ Literally, "the master of the
tongue." The allusion of the phrase is of course to the
subtle cantillations by which the charmer drew, or was
thought to draw, serpents from their "lurk," and to render
them harmless.

12 The words of the wise man's mouth win him grace;
But the lips of a fool swallow him up,

13 For the words of his mouth are folly at the beginning,
And end in malignant madness.

14 The fool is full of words,
Though no man knoweth what shall be,
Either here or hereafter:
And who can tell him?

15 The work of a fool wearieth him,
For he cannot even find his way to the city.

VER. 15.: _He cannot even find his way to the city_; a
proverbial saying. It denotes the fool who has not wit
enough even to keep a high road, to walk in the beaten path
which leads to a capital city. The thought was evidently
familiar to Jewish literature; for Isaiah (xxxv. 8) speaks
of the way of holiness as a highway in which "wayfaring men,
_though fools_, shall not err."

16 Woe to thee, O land, when thy king is a child,
And thy princes feast in the morning!

17 Happy art thou, O land, when thy king is noble,
And thy princes eat at due hours,
For strength and not for revelry!

18 Through slothful hands the roof falleth in,
And through lazy hands the house lets in the rain.

VERS. 18, 19.: _And money pays for all; i.e._ the money of
the people. The slothful prodigal rulers, under whose
mal-administration the whole fabric of the State was fast
falling into decay, extorted the means for their profligate
revelry from their toil-worn and oppressed subjects. It is
significant of the caution induced by the extreme tyranny of
the time, that the whole description of its political
condition is conveyed in proverbs more enigmatical than
usual, and capable of being interpreted in more senses than
one.

19 They turn bread, and wine, which cheereth life, into revelry;
And money has to pay for all.

20 Nevertheless revile not the king even in thy thoughts,
Nor a prince even in thy bed-chamber,
Lest the bird of the air carry the report,
And the winged tribes tell the story.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _But in a wise Use and a wise Enjoyment of the Present Life_; Ch. xi., vv. 1-8.]

1 Cast thy bread upon the waters,
For in time thou mayest find the good of it;

2 Give a portion to seven, and even to eight,
For thou knowest not what calamity may come upon the earth.

3 When the clouds are full of rain,
They empty it upon the earth;
And when the tree falleth, toward south or north,
In the place where the tree falleth there will it lie.

4 Whoso watcheth the wind shall not sow,
And he who observeth the clouds shall not reap;

5 As thou knowest the course of the wind
As little as that of the embryo in the womb of the pregnant,
So thou knowest not the work of God,
Who worketh all things.

6 Sow, then, thy seed in the morning,
And slack not thy hand in the evening,
Since thou knowest not which shall prosper, this or that,
Or whether both shall prove good:

7 And the light shall be sweet to thee,
And it shall be pleasant to thine eyes to behold the sun:

8 For even if a man should live many years,
He ought to rejoice in them all,
And to remember that there will be many dark days;
Yea, that all that cometh is vanity.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _Combined with a stedfast Faith in the Life to come._ Ch. xi., v. 9-Ch. xii., v. 7.]

9 Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth,
And let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth;
And pursue the ways of thine heart,
And that which thine eyes desire;
And know that for all these
God will bring thee into judgment:

10 Banish, therefore, care from thy mind,
And put away sadness from thy flesh,
For youth and manhood are vanity.

[Sidenote: xii.]

And remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth,
Before the evil days come,
And the years approach of which thou shalt say,
"I have no pleasure in them;"

2 Before the sun groweth dark,
And the light, and the moon, and the stars;
And the clouds return after the rain:

3 When the keepers of the house shall quake,
And the men of power crouch down;
When the grinding-maids shall stop because so few are left,
And the women who look out of the lattices shall be shrouded in darkness,
And the door shall be closed on the street:

VER. 3.: _The women who look out of the lattices; i.e._ the
luxurious ladies of the harem looking through their windows
to see what is going on outside. Compare Judges v. 28; 2
Samuel vi. 16; and 2 Kings ix. 30.

4 When the sound of the mills shall cease,
And the swallow fly shrieking to and fro,
And all the song-birds drop silently into their nests.

VER. 4.: _The swallow_, etc. Literally, "_the_ bird shall
arise for a noise," _i.e._ the bird which flies abroad and
makes a noise at the approach of a tempest: viz. the
swallow. _All the songbirds._ Literally, "all the daughters
of song," a Hebraism for birds.

5 There shall be terror at that which cometh from the height,
And fear shall beset the highway:
The almond also shall be rejected,
And the locust be loathed,
And the caper-berry provoke no appetite;
Because man goeth to his long home,
And the mourners pace up and down the street;--

VER. 5.: _From the height, i.e._ from heaven. _The locust be
loathed._ It is commonly assumed that the locust was only
eaten by the poor; but Aristotle (_Hist. Anim._, v. 30)
names them as a delicacy, and Ginsburg affirms that they are
still considered so by the cultivated and well-to-do Arabs.
_His long home._ Literally, "his _eternal_ home," the domus
æterna of the early Christian tombs.

6 Before the silver cord snappeth asunder,
And the golden bowl escapeth;
Before the pitcher be shattered at the fountain,
And the wheel is broken at the well;

7 And the body is cast into the earth from which it came,
And the spirit returneth to God who gave it.

THE EPILOGUE.

_IN WHICH THE PROBLEM OF THE BOOK IS CONCLUSIVELY SOLVED._

CHAP. XII., VV. 8-14.

8 Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher,
All is vanity!

9 And not only was the Preacher a wise man;
He also taught the people wisdom,
And compared, collected, and arranged many proverbs.

10 The Preacher sought out words of comfort,
And wrote down in uprightness words of truth.

11 The words of the Wise are like goads,
And those of the Masters of the Assemblies like spikes driven home,
Given out by the same Shepherd.

12 And of what is more than these, my son, beware;
For of making of many books there is no end,
And much study is a weariness to the flesh.

13 The conclusion of the matter is this;--
That God taketh cognisance of all things:
Fear Him, therefore, and keep his commandments,
For this it behoveth every man to do,

VER. 13.: _God taketh cognisance of all things._ Literally,
"Everything is noted" or "heard," _i.e._ by God the Judge.
Ginsburg conjectures, not without reason, as I think, that
the Sacred Name was omitted from this clause of the verse
simply because the Author wished to reserve it for the more
emphatic clause which follows it. Many good scholars,
however, read the clause as meaning simply, "The conclusion
of the matter, _when all has been heard," i.e._ which even
the Sages can adduce.

14 Since God will bring every deed to the judgment
Appointed for every secret thing,
Whether it be good or whether it be bad.

EXPOSITION.

THE PROLOGUE.

_IN WHICH THE PROBLEM OF THE BOOK IS INDIRECTLY STATED._

CHAP. I., VV. 1-11.

The search for the _summum bonum_, the quest of the Chief Good, is the theme of the Book Ecclesiastes. Naturally we look to find this theme, problem, this "riddle of the painful earth," distinctly stated in the opening verses of the Book. It is stated, but not distinctly. For the Book is an autobiographical poem, the journal of the Preacher's inward life set forth in a dramatic form. "A man of ripe wisdom and mature experience, he takes us into his confidence. He unclasps the secret volume, and invites us to read it with him. He lays before us what he has been, what he has thought and done, what he has seen and felt and suffered; and then he asks us to listen to the judgment which he has deliberately formed on a review of the whole."[24] But that he may the more reservedly lay bare his heart to us, he uses the Poet's privilege, and presents himself to us under a mask and wrapped in Solomon's ample mantle. And a dramatic poet conveys his conceptions of human character and circumstance and action, not by direct picturesque descriptions, but, placing men before us "in their habit as they lived," he makes them speak to us, and leaves us to infer their character and condition from their words.

[24] Dean Perowne, in _The Expositor_, First Series, vol. ix.

In accordance with the rules of his art, the dramatic Preacher brings himself on the stage of his poem, permits us to hear his most penetrating and characteristic utterances, confesses his own most secret and inward experiences, and thus enables us to conceive and to judge him. He is true to his artistic canons from the outset. His prologue, unlike that of the Book of Job, is cast in the dramatic form. Instead of giving us a clear statement of the moral problem he is about to discuss, he opens with the characteristic utterances of the man who, wearied with many futile endeavours, gathers up his remaining strength to recount the experiments he has tried and the conclusion he has reached. Like Browning, one of the most dramatic of modern poets, he plunges abruptly into his theme, and speaks to us from the first through "feigned lips." Just as in reading the _Soliloquy of the Spanish Cloister_, or the _Epistle of Karshish, the Arab Physician_, or a score other of Browning's Poems, we have first to glance through it in order to collect the scattered hints which indicate the speaker and the time, and then laboriously to think ourselves back, by their help, into the time and conditions of the speaker, so also with this Hebrew poem. It opens abruptly with "words of the Preacher," who is at once the author and the hero of the drama. "Who is he," we ask, "and what?" "When did he live, and what place did he fill?" And at present we can only reply, He is the voice of one crying in the wilderness of Oriental antiquity, and saying, "Vanity of vanities! _all_ is vanity!"[25] For what intent, then, does his voice break the long silence? Of what ethical mood is this pathetic note the expression? What prompts his despairing cry?

[25] Compare Horace (Od. iv. 7, 9): _Pulvis et umbra sumus_.

It is the old contrast--old as literature, old as man--between the ordered steadfastness of nature and the disorder and brevity of human life. The Preacher gazes on the universe above and around him. The ancient earth is firm and strong beneath his feet. The sun runs his race with joy, sinks exhausted into its ocean bed, but rises on the morrow, like a giant refreshed with old wine, to renew its course. The variable and inconstant wind, which bloweth where it listeth, blows from the same quarters, runs through the very circuit which was its haunt in the time of the world's grey fathers. The streams which ebb and flow, which go and come, run along time-worn beds and are fed from their ancient source. But man, "to one point constant never," shifts from change to change. As compared with the calm uniformity of nature, his life is a mere phantasy, passing for ever through a tedious and limited range of forms, each of which is as unsubstantial as the fabric of a vision, many of which are as base and sordid as they are unreal, and all of which, for ever in a flux, elude the grasp of those who pursue them, or disappoint those who hold them in their hands. "All is vanity; for man has no profit," no adequate and enduring reward, "for all his labour;" literally, "no balance, no surplus, on the balance-sheet of life:" less happy, because less stable, than the earth on which he dwells, he comes and goes, while the earth goes on for ever (vv. 2-4).

This painful contrast between the ordered stability of nature and the changeful and profitless disorder of human life is emphasized by a detailed reference to the large natural forces which rule the world, and which abide unchanged, although to us they seem the very types of change. The figure of ver. 5 is, of course, that of the racer. The sun rises every morning to run its course, pursues it through the day, "pants," as one well-nigh breathless, toward its goal, and sinks at night into its subterraneous bed in the sea; but, though exhausted and breathless at night, it rises on the morrow refreshed, and eager, like a strong, swift man, to renew its daily race. In ver. 6 the wind is represented as having a regular law and circuit, though it now blows South, and now veers round to the North. The East and West are not mentioned, probably because they are tacitly referred to in the rising and setting sun of the previous verse: all the four quarters are included between the two. In ver. 7 the streams are described as returning on their sources; but there is no allusion here, as we might suppose, to the tides,--and indeed tidal rivers are comparatively rare,--or to the rain which brings back the water evaporated from the surface of the streams and of the sea. The reference is, rather, to an ancient conception of the physical order of nature held by the Hebrew as by other races, according to which the ocean, fed by the streams, sent back a constant supply through subterraneous passages and channels, in which the salt was filtered out of it; through these they supposed the rivers to return to the place whence they came. The ruling sentiment of these verses is that, while all the natural elements and forces, even the most variable and inconstant, renew their strength and return upon their course, for frail man there is no return; permanence and uniformity characterise _them_, while transitoriness and instability mark _him_ for their own. They seem to vanish and disappear; the sun sinks, the winds lull, the streams run dry; but they all come back again: for him there is no coming back; once gone, he is gone for ever.

But it is vain to talk of these or other instances of the weary yet restless activity of the universe; "man cannot utter it." For, besides these elemental illustrations, the world is crowded with illustrations of incessant change, which yet move within narrow bounds and do nothing to relieve its sameliness. So numerous are they, so innumerable, that the curious eye and inquisitive ear of man would be worn out before they had completed the tale of them: and if eye and ear could never be satisfied with hearing and seeing, how much less the slower tongue with speaking (ver. 8)? All through the universe what hath been still is and will be; what was done is done still and always will be done; the sun still running the same race, the winds still blowing from the same points, the streams still flowing between the same banks and returning by the same channels. If any man suppose that he has discovered new phenomena, any natural fact which has not been repeating itself from the beginning, it is only because he is ignorant of that which has been from of old (vv. 9, 10).[26] Yet, while in nature all things return on their course and abide for ever, man's day is soon spent, his force soon exhausted. _He_ does not return; nay, he is not so much as remembered by those who come after him. Just as we have forgotten those who were before us, so those who live after us will forget us (ver. 11). The burden of all this unintelligible world lies heavily on the Preacher's soul. He is weary of the world's "everlasting sameness." The miseries and confusions of the human lot baffle and oppress his thoughts. Above all, the contrast between Nature and Man, between its massive and stately permanence and the frailty and brevity of our existence, breeds in him the despairing mood of which we have the keynote in his cry, "Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities, all is vanity!"

[26] So Marcus Aurelius (_Meditt._, xi. 1): "They that come after us
will see nothing new; and they who went before saw nothing more than
we have seen."

Yet this is not the only, not the inevitable, mood of the mind as it ponders that great contrast. _We_ have learned to look upon it with other, perhaps with wider, eyes. We say, How grand, how soothing, how hopeful is the spectacle of nature's uniformity! How it lifts us above the fluctuations of inward thought, and gladdens us with a sense of stability and repose! As we see the ancient inviolable laws working out into the same gracious and beautiful results day after day and year by year, and reflect that "what has been will be," we are redeemed from our bondage to vanity and corruption; we look up with composed and reverent trust to Him who is our God and Father, and onward to the stable and glorious immortality we are to spend with Him; we argue with Habakkuk (chap. i. ver. 12), "Art not _Thou_ from everlasting, O Lord our God, our Holy One? _We_ shall not die," but live.

But if we did not know the Ruler of the universe to be our God and Father; if our thoughts had still to "jump the life to come" or to leap at it with a mere guess; if we had to cross the gulf of death on no more solid bridge than a Peradventure; if, in short, our life were infinitely more troubled and uncertain than it is, and the true good of life and its bright sustaining hope were still to seek, how would it be with us then? Then, like the Preacher, we might feel the steadfastness and uniformity of nature as an affront to our vanity and weakness. In place of drinking in hope and composure from the fair visage and unbroken order of the universe, we might deem its face to be darkened with a frown or its eye to be glancing on us with bitter irony. Instead of finding in its inevitable order and permanence a hopeful prophecy of _our_ recovery into an unbroken order and an enduring peace, we might passionately demand why, on an abiding earth and under an unchanging heaven, we should die and be forgotten; why, more inconstant than the variable wind, more evanescent than the parching stream, one generation should go never to return, and another generation come to enjoy the gains of those who were before them, and to blot their memory from the earth.

This, indeed, _has_ been the impassioned protest and outcry of every age. Literature is full of it. The contrast between the tranquil unchanging sky, with its myriads of pure lustrous stars, which are always there and always in a happy concert, and the frailty of man rushing blindly through his brief and perturbed course has lent its ground-tones to the poetry of every race. We meet it everywhere. It is the oldest of old songs. In all the many languages of the divided earth we hear how the generations of men pass swifty and stormfully across its bosom, "searching the serene heavens with the inquest of their beseeching looks," but winning no response; asking always, and always in vain, "Why are we thus? why are we thus? frail as the moth, and of few days like the flower?" It is this contrast between the serenity and the stability of nature and the frailty and turbulence of man which afflicts Coheleth and drives him to conclusions of despair. Here is man, "so noble in reason, so infinite in faculty, in apprehension so like a god," longing with an ardent intensity for the peace which results from the equipoise and happy occupation of his various powers; and yet his whole life is wasted in labours and tumults, in perplexity and strife; he goes to his grave with his cravings unsatisfied, his powers untrained, unharmonised, knowing no rest till he lies in the narrow bed from which is no uprising! What wonder if to such an one as he "this goodly frame, the earth, seems but a sterile promontory" stretching out a little space into the dark, infinite void; "this most excellent canopy, the air ... this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire," nothing but "a foul, pestilential congregation of vapours"? What wonder if, for him, the very beauty of nature should turn into a repulsive hideousness, and its steadfast, unchanging order be held a satire on the disorder and vanity of his life?

Solomon, moreover,--and Solomon in his premature old age, sated and weary, is the mask under which the Preacher conceals his natural face,--had had a large experience of life, had tried its ambitions, its lusts, its pursuits and pleasures; he had tested every promise of good which it held forth, and found them all illusory; he had drunk of every stream, and found no pure living water with which he could slake his thirst. And men such as he, sated but not satisfied, jaded with voluptuous delights and without the peace of faith, commonly look out on the world with haggard eyes. They feed their despair on the natural order and purity which they feel to be a rebuke to the impurity of their own restless and perturbed hearts. Many of us have, no doubt, stood on Richmond Hill, and looked with softening eyes on the rich pastures dotted with cattle, and broken with clumps of trees through which shoot up village spires, while the full, placid Thames winds in many a curve through pasture and wood. It is not a grand or romantic scene; but on a quiet evening, in the long level rays of the setting sun, it is a scene to inspire content and thankful, peaceful thoughts. Wilberforce tells us that he once stood in the balcony of a villa looking down on this scene. Beside him stood the owner of the villa, a duke notorious for his profligacy in a profligate age; and as they looked across the stream, the duke cried out, "O that river! there it runs, on and on, and I so weary of it!" And _there_ you have the very mood of this Prologue; the mood for which the fair, smiling heavens and the gracious, bountiful earth carry no benediction of peace, because they are reflected from a heart all tossed into crossing and impure waves.

All things depend on the heart we bring to them. This very contrast between Nature and Man has no despair in it, breeds no dispeace or anger in the heart at leisure from itself and at peace with God. Tennyson, for instance, makes a merry musical brook sing to us on this very theme.

"I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.

"I chatter over stony ways
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.

"I chatter, chatter as I flow
To join the brimming river;
_For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever_.

"I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.

"I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeams dance
Against my sanded shallows.