Chapter XI (2)

+I. This proverb must be fulfilled from the nature of the case.+ If a vessel is being steered straight for the rocks nothing can prevent her from being dashed upon them except a change of course. Nothing else can avert the catastrophe, unless a supernatural power removes the rock out of the way. This last cannot be; the first alternative rests with the will of the commander. If another vessel is going in an opposite direction she must as necessarily escape the doom to which the other is hastening. There is nothing of fate about their different destinies, they are the outcome of a choice of opposite courses. So with the opposite ends of the righteous and the wicked. Deliverance for the first, an inheritance of trouble for the latter, are the result of no arbitrary fate but the outcome of their pursuing opposite courses. Unless God will remove His everlasting laws out of the universe it must be so, and to expect Him to do that is to expect Him to change His nature, which would be a much more dire calamity than the trouble which comes upon the wicked from his course of wilful opposition to righteousness. For in this life it is always open to a man to turn round, to change his course, and so to escape the shipwreck of his existence upon the rocks of perdition. "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon" (Isa. lv. 7). God will not remove His righteous laws out of the sinner's way, but He holds out every inducement and encouragement to the transgressor to come into harmony with them.

+II. The proverb has received abundant illustrations in the history of our race.+ Pharaoh designed to drive the Israelitish nation into the Red Sea and so to destroy them. God delivered them, and their oppressors "came in their stead." Daniel's persecutors planned to take his life, "the righteous man was delivered out of trouble," and his wicked slanderers met with the death to which they had hoped to bring him. Instances might be multiplied in which this truth has been illustrated both in Scripture history and in more modern times.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

It is a "righteous thing" with God (2 Thess. i. 6, 7), though to men it seems an incredible paradox, and a news far more wonderful than acceptable, that there should be such a transmutation of conditions on both sides, to contraries.--_Trapp._

Though the afflictions of good men seem sharp and grievous, yet they are not perpetual. Before ever God bring His into troubles, He appointeth how they shall be preserved in them, and pass through them, and get out of them. He doth as well see their arrival, as their launching forth, and the end of the boisterous storms which they must endure as well as the beginning and entrance thereof.--_Dod._

In this world trouble is a common place, as the world is, both to the righteous and the wicked, and it beseems them both. The one has his proper and due place, the other has his place of honour. For, as St. Basil saith, He that saith that tribulation doth not beseem a righteous man, saith nothing else but that an adversary doth not beseem a valiant champion. Sometimes God Himself doth put the righteous into trouble, and then as the place belongeth to them, so St. Chrysostom tells us, God doth it rather by the trouble to bring us to Himself. Sometimes the injustice or malice of men doth thrust them into it, and then, God delivering them, puts the wicked in their place. For this world is full of misplacings, the wicked being seated where the godly should be, the godly seated where the wicked should be. God Almighty is pleased sometimes to put things in order, and, showing mercy to the righteous, doth give the wicked their due place.--_Jermin._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 9.

THE JUST MAN DELIVERED FROM THE MOUTH OF THE HYPOCRITE.

+I. We have here+--1. _A character most difficult to maintain._ The actor cannot always be playing his part, he must have times when his own individuality asserts itself--when he appears the man he really is. The man most in love with the dramatic art finds a few hours' practice at a time enough for him, and feels it a relief to throw off his stage character and be himself again. He cannot, if he would, be ever trying to live in an experience that does not belong to him--be ever assuming an individuality which is not his own property. It would be an intolerable burden to be always endeavouring to sustain a part. A hypocrite has set himself a hard task. He has undertaken to pretend to be living a life which he knows does not belong to him, and which he never can possess unless his whole nature is regenerated. Now to keep up the deportment and to use the language that belongs to a true nature must be as difficult as for a professional actor always to be playing the part of a king. The hypocrite must sometimes feel that his life is a sort of treadmill, and must sometimes be overcome by his real self in spite of all efforts to prevent nature from asserting her rights. No hypocrite can be always in his stage dress. The character is difficult to sustain. 2. _A character most injurious to mankind and most miserable for the man who owns it._ The actor plays his part by assuming the character of another man, but he does this without necessarily injuring himself or any of his fellow-creatures. But it is not so with the hypocrite. If a bad man assumes the garb of a good man he tends to lessen the estimation of real goodness in the minds of men. The existence of false coin makes us suspicious of genuine gold. The hypocrite must be conscious that he is a _living lie,_ and so a living curse to his fellow-creatures, and this consciousness can but make him miserable. 3. _A character in danger of becoming irreclaimable._ A man who tries to pass for a scholar when he is utterly ignorant is the most difficult person to change into a scholar. The man who desires to be always first among his fellows is the least likely to become a qualified leader of men. We have it on the best authority that whatever such a man may desire, that "whosoever will be chief shall be a servant" (Matt. xx. 27). He is only fit for a low position who is ever straining every nerve after a high one. The hypocrite is ever desiring to pass for what he is not--he is ever desiring to fill a place for which he is utterly unfit. He is less likely than the most openly vicious man ever to become in reality that which he is ever seeming to be. This was the judgment of the Son of God concerning the hypocrites of His day: "Verily I say unto you that the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you" (Matt. xxi. 31). 4. _A character most hateful to God and to man._ A hypocrite must be disliked by those whose character he endeavours to personify. The good must hate hypocrisy because, as we said before, it lessens the power of goodness in the world by making men suspect the really good. A hypocrite is hated by other hypocrites. If a man wants to utter false coin himself, he prefers to enjoy a monopoly of the business. The more of it there is in circulation the less likely people are to be deceived by it. A hypocrite is hateful to God. No sin is so denounced under both the old and new dispensations as the sin of hypocrisy. "Incense is an _abomination unto Me;_ the new moons and the calling of assemblies, _I cannot away with it._ . . . Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth" (Isaiah i. 13, 14). The God of Israel reserves these burning words for His own people, who were drawing near to Him with their lips, while their hearts were far from Him. The most terrible denunciations of the Son of God were uttered against those who were guilty of this sin. "Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites," is repeated again and again in one discourse (Matt. xxiii).

+II. The chief instrument used by the hypocrite. "The mouth."+ The power of speech is a most precious gift of God, and is intended by Him to be an instrument of blessing to the human race. It is the most precious instrument of good that the hypocrite is here represented as turning into an all-devouring weapon of destruction. He is like a man who gives potent poison for healing medicine. He may have disguised its deadly nature under an unknown and high-sounding name, but this will not lessen its deadly effects. The hypocrite is the man who above all others is skilful in making words the means of concealing thoughts--who speaks so plausibly that men believe they are drinking a healthful draught when they are imbibing a deadly poison. The tongue of the hypocrite destroys his neighbour because he makes him believe that he has his welfare at heart when he is really plotting his destruction. He makes him believe that some utterly worthless commercial speculation is sound and profitable, and so involves him in material destruction. Or he persuades him that a certain course of dishonest conduct is without moral danger, and so brings him into spiritual destruction. His neighbour's destruction is certain in proportion to the strength of his confidence in the words of the hypocrite.

+III. The means of deliverance from the hypocrite's mouth.+ "Through knowledge shall the just be delivered." The just man possesses a knowledge of God, and thus has a correct standard of character by which to judge men. If a man walks in the light of the sun he will be able to avoid pitfalls and open graves. A just man has an acquaintance with the character and the laws of God. He "walks in the light" (1 John i. 7). And this gives him an insight into character--this furnishes him with a test to "try the spirits whether they are of God" (1 John iv. 1). The more men come into contact with reality the more quick will they be to detect unreality. The more men know God the more correct will be the estimate they form of their fellow-men. The Spirit of wisdom is a Spirit of "enlightenment" on this point as on all others (Eph. i. 18). The scripture which is the "inspiration of God" "furnishes the man of God" with a means of escape from the snare of the hypocrite's mouth (2 Tim. iii. 16). The knowledge which is derived from its study is a foil for the attacks of the most subtle seducer.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Haman, under the pretence of loyalty, would have _destroyed_ a whole nation (Esther iii. 8, 13). Ziba, under the same false cover, would have _destroyed his neighbour_ (2 Sam. xvi. 1, 4). The lying prophet, from mere wilfulness, ruined his brother (1 Kings xiii).

Then look at the hypocrite in the church--"a ravening wolf in sheep's clothing," devouring the flock (Matt. vii. 15); "making merchandise with feigned words" (2 Pet. ii. 1, 3); an "apostle of Satan," so diligent is he in his master's work of destruction (2 Cor. xi. 3, 13). "These false Christs," we are warned, "deceive many," if it _were possible the very elect_ (Matt. xxiv. 24). . . . Learn the value of solid knowledge. Feeling, excitement, imagination, expose us to an unsteady profession. (Such as Eph. iv. 14.) _Knowledge_ supplies principle and steadfast. "Add to your faith _knowledge_" (2 Pet. i. 5).--_Bridges._

Hypocrites are awful stumbling blocks. Full many has the detection of their true character hardened in sin and worldliness, and established in infidelity. Full many have they thus destroyed.--_Wardlaw._

When God converts a soul, He gives it light. That light makes it invulnerable. All things afterward help it. "Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt." Satan is one of the blessings of a Christian.--_Miller._

It was an ordinary prayer of King Antigonus, "Deliver me from the hands of my friends." When asked why he did not rather pray for preservation from his enemies, he answered, "That he guarded against his enemies, but could not guard against false friends."--_Lawson._

_How to detect a hypocrite._ To make a man a good man all parts of goodness must concur, but any one way of wickedness is sufficient to denominate a bad man.--_Tillotson._

A hypocrite is hated of the world for seeming to be a Christian, and hated of God for not being one.--_Mason._

The meaning of the verse as a whole is, "By the protective power of that knowledge that serves righteousness, they are delivered who were endangered by the artifices of that shrewdness which is the instrument of wickedness."--_Elster._

The just man is too wise to be flattered, and too knowing to be plucked away with the error of the wicked (1 Pet. iii. 17, 18).--_Trapp._

Beware of carrying deadly weapons. An untrue man is a moral murderer, his mouth the lethal weapon, and his neighbour the victim.--_Arnot._

"Neither man nor angels can discern
Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks
Invisible, except to God alone,
By His permissive will, thro' heaven and earth;
And oft though Wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps
At Wisdom's gate, and to simplicity
Resigns her charge, while goodness
Thinks no ill
Where no ill seems."--_Paradise Lost._ Book iii.

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 10 _and_ 11.

THE REWARD OF THE RIGHTEOUS CITIZEN OR RULER. THE FATE OF THE UNRIGHTEOUS ONE.

+I. The words imply that it does not always go with the righteous.+ "_When_ it goeth well," etc. A good man's plans and efforts for the good of his fellow-citizens or fellow-countrymen are not always successful. They may need more resources to make them effectual than he has at his command. The men whom he desired to benefit may not themselves be willing to exercise the self-denial for their own welfare that he is willing to undergo for them. They would be willing to reap the harvest of joy, but they do not like to sow the seed of suffering. It often happens that a righteous man is in the midst of a generation who cannot appreciate his moral worth and his intellectual wisdom. It has been said that the intellectual struggles of one age are the intuitions of the next, and men that are now regarded as grand and noble were perhaps looked upon as of little worth in the generation in which they lived. Or a man may not live long enough to complete his plans for the public benefit--the best things are often slow in coming to maturity, and many a righteous man has been called away before he has perfected his designs of blessing for his race. Although the good and faithful servant will always have the "Well-done" of his master, his plans and purposes are often seemingly frustrated by the shortness of this life, the scantiness of his resources, or the misconception of his fellows. History abounds with illustrations of this truth.

+II. That there must come a time when it will go well with the righteous.+ It is an ordination of God's providence that the righteous man should pass through both experiences. The soldier needs defeat as well as victory to develop all his latent talent, to make manifest all the heroism that is within him. The mariner must pass through storms as well as fair weather if he is to learn the true art of navigation. And so the righteous man must have the experience of apparent failure and defeat to develop faith, and patience, and courage, which would otherwise remain hidden or dwarfed. But when this has been accomplished, a "set time to favour him will come." "He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall _doubtless_ come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him" (Psalm cxxvi. 6). The worth of his character and his work will be recognised freely and generously by many, and must be acknowledged, although it may be with reluctance, even by his opponents. Joseph passed many years in servitude and imprisonment, but by and by his worth was freely acknowledged. "Can we find such a one as this is, a man in whom the Spirit of God is?" (Gen. xli. 38.) Both king and people decided that it ought to go well with him, and it did go well with him now that his ability and character were known.

+III. The blessing and consequent joy that comes to others when the time has come for it to "go well with the righteous."+ By the blessing of the righteous the city is exalted--"the city" as a consequence "rejoiceth." Even the bad in a kingdom have cause for joy when the righteous have the pre-eminence in a community, whatever be their condition they would be much worse off under the rule of unrighteousness. The lost in hell and those who are being lost on earth are in a better condition from having the Righteous God upon the throne of the universe. The greatest criminals in our prisons find it better to have a just and righteous gaoler than an unrighteous one. So the whole city has reason to rejoice in the pre-eminence--in the success of the righteous. Such men exalt a city--1. _By forming a basis for commercial enterprise._ The role of the unrighteous in a city will, in time, prevent commercial prosperity by destroying public confidence. 2. _By promoting the just rights of all._ That community is blessed where each citizen enjoys freedom to live his life and do the best for himself and others without trampling on the rights of his fellows. Tyranny on the one hand provokes rebellion on the other, and misery to both parties is the issue. The head is intended to think and plan for the rest of the body, the limbs are intended to carry out the designs of the head; if either the one or the other fails to perform its work, suffering comes to the whole frame. So in the body politic. Righteous men strive for the union of all classes for the good of all, and this unity exalts a city--gives peace at home, and is the surest defence against foes without. Righteousness is a stronger wall than any material defence. This is the safeguard of the ideal city of Isaiah's prophecy. "I will make thine officers peace, and thine exactors righteousness. Violence shall no more be heard in thy land, wasting nor destruction within thy borders; but thou shalt call thy walls Salvation, and thy gates Praise" (Isa. lx. 17-18). 3. _By averting Divine judgments._ Sodom would have been spared if there had been _ten_ righteous within the city. Unrighteousness in a nation must bring national calamity, but a minority of good men delays the visitation. "Except the Lord of Hosts had left unto us a very small remnant, we would have been as Sodom, and we would have been like unto Gomorrah" (Isa. i. 9). "For the elect's sake, those days shall be shortened" (Matt. xxiv. 22).

+IV. That as the character and services of the righteous man shall meet with public and grateful recognition, so the man who by his wicked influence has brought misery upon his fellow-creatures shall meet with public execration.+ Just as the righteous man often seems defeated by untoward circumstances, and all his unselfish and patriotic plans seem nipped in the bud for a time, yet success comes to him in the end, or, if not so, yet at his death his real worth is seen and acknowledged; so a wicked and selfish man may seem to carry all before him for a time, and may even succeed in blinding men to his real character, yet the time comes when his worthlessness and self-seeking meet with their terrible yet just reward. There is a tendency generally in human nature to condone a man's sins after he is dead, but instances are not few in the history of the world when this humane tendency has been stifled by the exceeding curse that some men have been to the world.

_ILLUSTRATIONS OF VERSES_ 10 _and_ 11.

A more vivid illustration of what has been said here concerning a righteous man cannot be found than in the life and labours of William the Silent, Prince of Holland. This noble man gave his all to the liberation of the Netherlands from Spanish tyranny. For many years he bore the whole weight of a struggle which Motley designates "as unequal as men have ever undertaken." "To exclude the Inquisition," he continues, "to maintain the ancient liberties of his country, was the task which he appointed to himself when a youth of three and twenty. He accomplished the task, through danger, amid toils, and with sacrifices such as few men have ever been able to lay upon their country's altar; for the disinterestedness of the man was as prominent as his fortitude. A prince of high rank and with royal revenues, he stripped himself of station, wealth, almost at times of the common necessaries of life, and became, in his country's cause, nearly a beggar as well as an outlaw." At times it seemed as if the cause to which he had thus devoted himself was lost, even this disinterested man did not escape the envy and suspicion of those whom he was trying to serve. But he lived to see his work accomplished, and when he fell at last by the hand of an assassin, he was "entombed," to quote again from his biographer, "amid the tears of a whole nation." "The people were grateful and affectionate, for they trusted the character of their 'Father William,' and not all the clouds which calumny could collect ever dimmed to their eyes the radiance of that lofty mind to which they were accustomed, in their darkest calamities, to look for light. As long as he lived, he was the guiding star of a whole brave nation, and when he died, the little children cried in the streets."--_Motley's Rise of the Dutch Republic._

Illustrations of the latter clause of verse 10 abound in history. "Memorable in the prison experiences of Herod Agrippa was the arrival of news that the tyrant of Capreæ was dead. Immediately on the death of Tiberius, Marsyas, Agrippa's faithful bondslave, hastened to his master's dungeon, and communicated the joyful intelligence, saying, in the Hebrew language, "The lion is dead." The centurion on guard heard the rejoicing, inquired as to the cause, ordered the royal prisoner's chains to be struck off, and invited him to supper. But more memorable was the exultation, widely felt and cruelly expressed, at Agrippa's own death--that loathsome death, so strange in its surroundings, of which a tale is told in the Acts of the Apostles. The inhabitants of Sebaste and Cæsarea, as we learn from Josephus, and particularly Herod's own soldiers, indulged in the most brutal rejoicings at his death,--heaping his memory with reproaches. . . . In his account of the death of the Emperor Maximin, Gibbon says, "It is easier to conceive than to describe the universal joy of the Roman world on the fall of the tyrant." The death of Richelieu is said to have been felt by France like the relief from a nightmare; from the king to the lowest rhymster, all joined in the burden of the couplets that proclaimed it--_Il est parti, il a plié bagage, ce cardinal._--_Jacox._

+Judge Jeffreys.+ A disposition to triumph over the fallen has never been one of the besetting sins of Englishmen; but the hatred of which Jeffreys was the object was without a parallel in our history, and partook but too largely of the savageness of his own nature. The people, where he was concerned, were as cruel as himself, and exulted in his misery as he had been accustomed to exult in the misery of convicts listening to the sentence of death, and of families clad in mourning. The rabble congregated before his deserted mansion in Duke Street, and read on the door, with shouts of laughter, the bills which announced the sale of his property. Even delicate women, who had tears for highwaymen and housebreakers, breathed nothing but vengeance against him. The lampoons which were hawked about the town were distinguished by an atrocity rare even in those days. Hanging would be too mild a death for him: a grave under the gibbet would be too respectable a resting place: he ought to be whipt to death at the cart's tail: he ought to be tortured like an Indian: he ought to be devoured alive. . . . Disease, assisted by strong drink and by misery, did its work fast. He dwindled in a few weeks from a portly and even corpulent man to a skeleton, and died in the forty-first year of his age. He had been Chief Justice of the King's Bench at thirty-five, and Lord Chancellor at thirty-seven. In the whole history of the English bar there is no other instance of so rapid an elevation or so terrible a fall.--_Macaulay._

+Foulon, a French Official in the time of the great Revolution.+ This is that same Foulon named _âme damnée_ (Familiar demon) _du Parlement;_ a man grown gray in treachery, in griping, projecting, intriguing and iniquity: who once, when it was objected, to some finance-scheme of his, "What will the people do?" made answer, in the fire of discussion, "The people may eat grass:" hasty words, which fly abroad irrevocable, and will send back tidings. . . . We are but at the 22nd of the month, hardly above a week since the Bastile fell, when it suddenly appears that old Foulon is alive; nay, that he is here, in early morning, in the streets of Paris: the extortioner, the plotter, who would make the people eat grass, and was a liar from the beginning! It is even so. The deceptive "sumptuous funeral" (of some domestic that died); the hiding-place at Vitry towards Fountainebleau, have not availed that wretched old man. Some living domestic or dependent, for none loves old Foulon, has betrayed him to the village. Merciless boors of Vitry unearth him, pounce upon him, like hell-hounds. Westward, old Infamy! to Paris, to be judged at the Hôtel-de-Ville! His old head, which seventy-four years had bleached, is bare; they have tied an emblematic bundle of grass upon his back; a garland of nettles and thistles is round his neck: in this manner, led with ropes, goaded on with curses and menaces, must he, with his old limbs, sprawl forward; the pitiablest, most unpitied of all old men. Sooty Saint-Antoine, and every street, musters its crowds as he passes; the Hell of the Hôtel-de-Ville, the Place de Grève itself, will scarcely hold his escort and him. Foulon must not only be judged righteously, but judged there where he stands without delay. Appoint seven judges, ye Municipals, or seventy and seven; name them yourselves, or we will name them, but judge him. Electoral rhetoric, eloquence of Mayor Bailly, is wasted for hours, explaining the beauty of the law's delay. Delay, and still delay! . . . the morning has worn itself into noon, and he is still unjudged. . . . "Friends," said a person, stepping forward, "what is the use of judging this man? Has he not been judged these thirty years?" With wild yells Sans-culottism clutches him in its hundred hands: he is whirled across the Place de Grève to the _Lanterne_ (lamp-iron), which there is at the corner of the _Rue de la Vannerie,_ pleading bitterly for life--to the deaf winds. Only with the third rope--for two ropes broke, and the quavering voice still pleaded--can he be so much as got hanged. His body is dragged through the streets; his head goes aloft upon a pike, the mouth filled with grass: amid sounds as of Tophet, from a grass-eating people.--_Carlyle's French Revolution._

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Two things, as herein is showed, do move the righteous unto joy. The one is, the honouring and good success of the just. When it is well with them that do well, the well-disposed multitude cannot but be inwardly glad, and outwardly justify this inward joy by signs and tokens of mirth. The other thing that moveth the well-disposed to rejoice, and even to sing (or shout) is the destruction of the wicked. There is great cause why the people of God should rejoice at the vengeance that is executed on the ungodly; for they persecute the Church, or infect many with their evil counsel and example, or draw God's punishments on the places wherein they live. Thus did the ancient Israelites rejoice in old time, when the enemies of God were overthrown; and thus did we of late sing and triumph when the proud Popish Spaniards were drowned and confounded. . . . A kingdom is overthrown by the flattery, heresy, foolish counsel, and conspiracy of mischievous and ungodly persons. Thus a tongue can even build and overthrow a city.--_Muffet._

The world, in despite of the native enmity of the heart, bears its testimony to consistent godliness (ch. xvi. 7; Mark vi. 20). . . . The people of God unite in the shouting occasioned by the overthrow of the wicked; not from any selfish feeling of revenge; much less from unfeeling hardness towards their fellow-sinners. But when a hindrance to the good cause is removed (ch. xxviii. 28; Eccles. ix. 18); when the justice of God is against sin (2 Sam. xviii. 14-28), and his faithful preservation of His Church (Exod. xv. 21; Judges v. 31) are displayed, ought not every feeling to be absorbed in a supreme interest in His glory? Ought they not to shout? (Psa. lii. 6, 7, lviii. 10; Rev. xviii. 20). The "Alleluia" of heaven is an exalting testimony to the righteous judgments of the Lord our God, hastening forward His glorious kingdom (Rev. xix. 1, 2).--_Bridges._

_By the good of the righteous;_ not "in the good" or "when it goeth well." "_By the perishing of the wicked,_" not when the wicked perish. A city is very far from exulting in the good of the righteous, or in the destruction of the wicked. But "by," or "by means of," as the unacknowledged cause there comes the exulting and shouting. That is, a city is blest by the prosperity of righteous men. "_Good._" This word cannot be properly translated. It means both _good_ and _goodness_. If we say "good," the "_good_ of the righteous" will mean their _welfare._ If we say "goodness" it will mean their piety. The word in the Hebrew means both. The text to be complete must confine itself to neither. The city is not only blessed by the good that characterises the righteous, but by the good that happens to them. How glorious this becomes when "the righteous" means the Church! The wilderness and the solitary place have been glad for her. It is true of all the universe. As the history of heaven and hell, the "good of the righteous," and "the perishing of the wicked" will breed universal benefit. It was such texts as these that moved the Papists to realise the good by actually slaughtering the wicked out of the land. . . . Piety is in proportion to usefulness. If a Christian does not bless his city, it is a mark against him. "_Bless_" means to _invoke good_. "The mouth of the wicked" pulls down a neighbourhood by every form of teaching. The righteous builds it, and especially by prayer.--_Miller._

"The mouth of the wicked." Whether he be a seedsman of sedition or a seducer of the people, a Sheba or a Shebna, a carnal gospeller or a godless politician, whose drift is to formalise and enervate the power of the truth, till at length they leave us a heartless and sapless religion. "One of these sinners may destroy much good" (Eccles. ix. 18).--_Trapp._

Good men have not only God's hand to give them good things, but godly men's hearts to be joyful for them. When Mordecai was advanced, the city of Shushan rejoiced and was glad. When the Lord showed His great mercy on Zacharias and Elizabeth in giving them a son, their kinsfolk and neighbours came and rejoiced with them. . . . It is well known that righteous men will make their brothers commoners with them in their prosperity; when they are advanced, others shall not be disgraced thereby: when they are enriched, others shall not be impoverished thereby: when they are made mighty, others shall not be weakened thereby; And so it is said concerning Mordecai, that when the royal apparel was on his back, and the crown of gold on his head, that unto the Jews was come light, and joy, and gladness and honour (Esth. viii. 16). . . . Here is instruction to them that be desirous to gain the hearts of honest men. . . . Many men desire to be popular, but few to be righteous. . . . Good liking is not gotten by pomp and power, and favour is not gained by wealth and riches, and love is not commanded by authority and dignity. These may be allured with goodness, but never compelled by violence.--_Dod._

Such is the nature of righteousness, that though it cannot make all to love it, yet it maketh all to love the welfare of the righteous. Origen therefore saith, that the few righteous which were in Jerusalem were not carried into captivity for their own offences, but that the captive people might rejoice in their welfare. For, saith he, had the wicked only been carried away, and the righteous remained, the wicked had never had the comfort of returning. On the other side, such is the nature of wickedness, that though many embrace it themselves, yet they are pleased to see it destroyed in others.--_Jermin._

The exultant shout of relief at a man's death might almost wake the dead man. It is hideous to think of a choral symphony of voices, jubilant at a dead march, making the welkin ring with huzzas at death's last fest, and welcoming it to the echo. For those tumultuous pæans have a vengeful curse in every note. They mean malediction; and they say what they mean. The bad man dead and gone is such a good riddance. The multitude account it for themselves, not for him, such a happy release. The greatest of the greater prophets of the Old Testament indites the "triumphant insultation," of his country and his countrymen against the dead and gone king of Babylon, when that oppressor ceased. . . . (Isa. xiv. 4). When Alexander Jannæus, desirous of a reconcilement with his people, asked them what he should do to make them quite content;--"Die!" was the response. It was the only way. The death of Ethwald, in Joanna Baillie's tragedy, points the moral to the same bitter tale. Here are the closing lines of the drama:--

"Through all the vexed land
Let every heart bound at the joyful tidings,
Thus from his frowning height the tyrant falls
Like a dark mountain, whose interior fires,
Raging in ceaseless tumult, have devoured
Its own foundations. Sunk in sudden ruin
To the tremendous gulf, in the vast void
No friendly rock rears its opposing head
To stay the dreadful crash. . . . The joyful hinds
Point to the traveller the hollow vale
Where once it stood."

--_Jacox._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSES_ 12, 13.

CONTEMPT AND TALE-BEARING.

+I. He who lacks moral worth will be indifferent to the worth of others.+ He will despise the character that he does not possess. In the minds of some men who have no learning there is a disposition to undervalue the attainments of others. They do not value it because they do not possess it. In order to esteem it rightly they must come to the possession of it. Some men pretend to despise wealth and call gold sordid dust, but most, if not all people of this kind have very little of what they despise in their own possession. Some translate here "a heartless man despiseth his neighbour." A man without moral wisdom is a man without a kind heart, and he despises his neighbour because he lacks the heart which is probably possessed by the man whom he despises. A man must have something good in himself to enable him to see what is worthy of honour in his brother. There must be light in the eye if we are to appreciate the light of the sun. A man must have something of a musical nature to be able to appreciate the musical gifts of another. A man shows that he is void of wisdom if he despises the meanest of his fellow creatures.

+II. A special form in which contempt for others is often manifested.+ "A tale-bearer revealeth secrets." If a man holds his neighbour in contempt, he is not careful of that neighbour's reputation. Being himself without moral worth he has nothing to lose, and therefore esteems lightly what is most valued by his brother man. Men who by their own folly are always poor are ever anxious to bring others down to their own level, and so men without reputation are very often disposed to rob others of their good name. This they attempt to do by revealing what they ought to conceal. There are times when we ought faithfully to keep within our own bosoms what we know about another, even although what we know is in the highest degree honourable to him. In the plan which Christ had marked out for Himself there were times when He desired that even His deeds of benevolence should not be made known. To some whom He healed He charged "that they should not make it known" (Matt. xii. 16). If it is good sometimes to conceal what is only honourable and praiseworthy, how much more should a man be careful not to reveal any real or seeming inconsistency in a good man--anything which may in any way lower him in the estimation of others--any painful secret which might be mis-construed to his dishonour or lessen his influence for good in the world.

+III. The contrast exhibited in the conduct of a man of moral worth.+ He, "being a man of understanding," knows the value of every human soul. He may _pity_ his degraded fellow-man, but never _despises_ them. He sets too high an estimate upon his neighbour to hold in contempt even those who are far beneath him in moral excellence, how much less will it be possible for him to despise those who are his equals or superiors. Around the imperfections of all he throws the robe of that charity which even "thinketh no evil" (1 Cor. xiii. 5), much less _speaks_ a word that could be interpreted to his neighbour's disadvantage. He holds the good name of others as a sacred trust. He guards it as a man of a "faithful spirit" would guard any precious possession belonging to another.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

Verse 12. "_A heartless man._" All such are titles of the unsaved man. The same negative state, _i.e._, a want of the Spirit, and hence a want of benevolence, not only keeps men from blessing their city (ver. 11), but makes them contemptuous. Others' interests do not weigh a feather. See a fine description of this in 1 Cor. xiii., where men are supposed even to "behave unseemly" from this high theologic fact. They do not care for their neighbours, and, therefore, do not care to behave well. If a neighbour is disgraced, they are too contemptuous to care for its effect. They are reckless in their talk of his disgrace, while a "man of understanding" is silent.--_Miller._

No human creature is to be despised, for he is our neighbour. He is our own flesh, our brother, sprung from our common father Adam. Honour all men. Men were made in the image of God; and though that image is now lost, it is still a sufficient evidence of the sinfulness of despising, as well as of murdering, our neighbour, that in the image of God man was made, and that we cannot say whether the persons who we are tempted to despise are not in that happy number of the chosen of God for whose sakes the Son of God hath dignified our nature by assuming it, and whom He will again beautify with that glorious image which was effaced by the fall. Do you allege that your neighbour is worthy of contempt, on account of his poverty or meanness, or some remarkable weakness, by which he is rendered ridiculous? I ask you whether he is a fool. You say, No. Then confess that your contempt ought to rest upon yourself; for Solomon says you are one, and want of wisdom is far worse than the want of riches, of beauty, or polite accomplishments.--_Trapp._

Not remembering that he is his neighbour, cut out of the same cloth, the shears only going between, and as capable of heaven as himself, though never so poor, mean, deformed, or otherwise despicable. The man of understanding refraineth his tongue even if he be slighted or reviled. He knows it is to no purpose to wash off dirt with dirt.--_Trapp._

Verse 13. The difference is a sharply drawn one, the distinction a distinctly defined one, between fidelity and unfaithfulness, between the treacherous and the loyal. There is a Danish proverb, quoted in the Archbishop of Dublin's book, which warns us well against relying too much on other men's silence, since there is no rarer gift than the capacity of keeping a secret: "Tell nothing to thy friend which thy enemy may not know." One should be careful not to entrust another unnecessarily with a secret which it may be a hard matter to keep; nor should one's desire for aid or sympathy be indulged by dragging other people into one's misfortunes. "There is as much responsibility in imparting your own secrets, as in keeping those of your neighbour," says Helps.--_Jacox._

This expression comes from trading. He who gads about to indulge in gossiping, will gratify his taste by scandals that he did not intend to divulge. "Secrets" or "secret counsels," that formal divan, where purest privacy is the thing that has been expected. It is these slight lusts, as we call them, that divulge character. The man that is born again will be of a "faithful spirit," and will scorn to gratify scandal at a neighbour's expense.--_Miller._

A note to know a talker by, is that he is a walker from place to place (see Critical Notes), hearing and spying what he can, that he may have whereof to prattle to this body and that body. Thus carrying of tales the Lord forbiddeth in his law, where he saith, "Thou shalt not go up and down as a tale-bearer among thy people" (Lev. xix. 16).--_Muffet._

Here we see that a well-governed spirit will govern the tongue. An unrestrained tongue is an evidence of levity, or of some worse quality in the heart. And if the spirit be faithful, the tongue will be cautious and friendly. The communication between the spirit and the tongue is so easy, that the one will certainly discover the quality of the other, for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.--_Lawson._

There are various ways of acting the "tale-bearer." There is that of _open blabbing._ And this, as it is the simplest, is, in truth, the least dangerous. The character becomes immediately known; and all who have secrets which they _really wish kept_ will take care to withhold them from him. There is the next that of _confidential communication._ The secret-holder affects to look this way and that, to ascertain that no one is within hearing; and then with many whispered _doubts_ whether he is doing right, and whispered _no doubts_ that he is perfectly safe with the dear friend to whom he speaks, imparts it in a breath that enters only his solitary ear, as a thing received in the profoundest secrecy, and not, on any account whatever, to go further--thus setting the example of broken confidence as the encouragement and inducement to keep it. There is that also of _sly insinuation._ The person who has the secret neither openly blabs it nor confidentially whispers it, but throws out hints of his having it--allusions more or less remote as to its nature--by which curiosity is awakened, inquiry stimulated, and the thing ultimately brought to light; while he who threw out the leading notices plumes himself on having escaped the imputation of a tale-bearer. Now these and whatever others there may be, _are all bad;_ and the greater the amount of pretension and hypocrisy, so much the worse.--_Wardlaw._

Reticence is commended from another point of view. The man who comes to us with tales about others will reveal our secrets also. Faithfulness is shown, not only in doing what a man has been commissioned to do, but in doing it quietly and without garrulity.--_Plumptre._

He is a rare friend that can both give counsel and keep counsel.--_Trapp._

The Holy Ghost, here and elsewhere, compareth busybodies and such as delight to deal in other men's matters, to petty chapmen and pedlars, which carry wares about, selling in one place and buying in another. A slanderous tongue trafficketh altogether by exchange, it will deliver nothing to you, but upon condition to receive somewhat from you. It will never bear an empty pack, but desireth, where aught is uttered and taken out, there to take somewhat to put in, that it may have choice for other places.--_Dod._

We must regard every matter as an entrusted secret, which we believe the person concerned would wish to be considered such. Nay, further still, we must consider all circumstances as secrets entrusted, which would bring scandal upon another if told, and which it is not our certain duty to discuss, and that in our own persons and to his face.--_Leigh Hunt._

_MAIN HOMILETICS OF VERSE_ 14.

HELMSMANSHIP.

+I. The many (the people) are dependent upon the few for guidance.+ The word counsel is literally "pilotage," "helmsmanship." The many passengers in the vessel are dependent upon the few who guide it. The dependence of the many upon the few for guidance runs through every phase of human life. The dependence of the children upon their natural head is but prophetic of all the periods of after life, which very much consists in the dependence of the many upon the few. The child's life at home and at school is a preparation for the rough handling of circumstance in this matter in the time of manhood. Although the man's ability to guide his own life is far greater than that of the child, yet his need of counsel and guidance has increased with his years and responsibilities. This need of guidance springs from men's unequal gifts. The physical, mental, and moral inequalities of men create and supply the demand for leaders--for counsellors for the many. This inequality is an ordination of the Divine Ruler of the universe--God is the Author of the inequalities. In nature we see that the strong give shelter to the weak. The mighty oak protects the tiny plant at its roots. Counsellors are the giant trees which give shelter by giving guidance to those who are in some respects inferior to them. Men may be born _free,_ but they are nowhere born _equal_ in mental and physical qualities. Hence some must _counsel,_ others must _be counselled._ Guidance is felt to be a necessity, and men make a virtue of the necessity. The passengers on board a vessel submit to the direction of the pilot because they feel that their safety depends upon submission, and so do the members of a nation--the citizens of a city. They know from experience that the way out of a difficulty is not found by those who follow, but by those who lead--that if they would enjoy the advantages of civil peace and safety, they must submit to the guidance and direction.

+II. That "no counsel" in a nation will end in their being no nation to counsel.+ "Where there is no counsel the people fall." The passengers in a ship who have no one to steer the vessel will soon cease to have need of a helmsman. So the nation which has no head--no government--will cease to be a nation. Its national existence will be ruined by the anarchy that must follow.

+III. Many men to give counsel are as a rule better than one.+ When the sea is heavy and breakers are ahead, one man at the wheel of a vessel would not be able to hold her on her course, many hands at once must be at work--the united strength of the many is indispensable. "In the multitude" there is "safety." So it is generally in the case of the ship of the State. As a rule, there is more wisdom and ability in the union of many men than in one--there is likewise less danger of despotic rule. But there have been many exceptions to this rule. Joseph knew how to provide for the safety of Egypt when all the rest of Pharaoh's counsellors were at their wits' end. Before the battle of Plassey--which laid the foundation of British rule in India--Clive called a council of war to decide whether or not the battle should be fought. The majority pronounced against fighting. But it is now generally allowed that if the advice of that council had been followed the British would have never been in possession of India. Clive decided to act in opposition to the opinion of the majority, and the day was won for England. (_See Macaulay's Essay on Lord Clive._) Sometimes in the multitude of counsellors there has been national ruin. "All the council" of the Jews sought to put Jesus to death (Matt. xxvi. 59), and so brought about the destruction of their nation. But these are exceptions to a rule.

_OUTLINES AND SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS._

The case supposed, appears to be that of a self-willed, self-sufficient, headstrong ruler who glories in his power; who determines to wield the rod of that power in his own way, and who plays the hasty, jealous, resolute, sensitive and vindictive tyrant; who disdains to call in counsel, or who does it only for the pleasure or showing his superiority to it by setting it at nought. I conceive the phrase, "Where no counsel is," to be intended to convey not a little of the character of him by whom it is declined or disregarded. We have an example of such a character in Solomon's own successor _Rehoboam._ And yet, at the same time, in his case we are taught the necessity of understanding all such maxims as admitting of exceptions. Rehoboam _did_ take counsel; and his counsellors were not few. Had they been _fewer,_ there would in that instance been _more safety._ Had he stopped with the "_old men_ who had stood before Solomon his father," all would have been well. . . . How much better would it have been for Ahab, had he taken for his sole counsellor Micaiah the son of Imlah than it was when he preferred the four hundred prophets of Baal! The maxim, therefore, is _general._ It affirms the danger of solitary self-sufficiency, and the safety of deliberate and, in proportion to the complexity and difficulty of each case, and the nature and amount of its consequences, of extensive and diversified consultation.--_Wardlaw._

It is a penalty inflicted by God on a sinful state to give it princes void of counsel (Isa. iii. 4; chap. xv. 22).--_Fausset._

Care seems to be taken after a proverb lauding silence, always to put in a eulogy of speech. (See chap. x 20, 21.) Secrets are not to be hid until the whole community is one covered over wickedness. The same faithfulness that conceals a secret, intrudes counsel, and grasps control, and saves the people by that leadership that the pious alone are intended to achieve. The word _counsel_ or "helmsmanship" is from a root meaning a _cord;_ hence the tacking of the helm; and, now, that princely guidance, which piety in the world (though the world does not think so) does actually bestow. "_Safety_"--or "_salvation._" The inspired sentence-maker is always managing what the music men would call a _crescendo,_ for the second clause. The first clause speaks of the people as _falling,_ the second as not only "_not falling,_" but though fallen, as actually raised.--_Miller._

Tyranny is better than anarchy. And yet "Woe also to thee, O land, whose king is a child"; that is, wilful and uncounsellable. . . . One special thing the primitive Christians prayed for the emperor was, that God would send him a faithful council.--_Trapp._