"The heart of the prudent getteth knowledge; and the ear of the wise seeketh knowledge. A man's gift maketh room for him, and bringeth him before great men. He that is first in his own cause seemeth just; but his neighbor cometh and searcheth him. The lot causeth contentions to cease, and parteth between the mighty. A brother offended is harder to be won than a strong city, and their contentions are like the bars of a castle."
"The heart" is here, as in many other instances, apparently used for the mind in general,-including both the intellect and the affections. There is, in "the wise," a love of knowledge; and an application of the mental powers for its attainment. And as "the ear" is one of the great inlets to instruction, it may here, with propriety, be considered as comprehending all the ways in which knowledge may be acquired. "The ear" of "the wise" listens with interested and eager attention, when instruction of any valuable kind is imparted; and as "the ear trieth words" he hears with discrimination,-desirous to distinguish truth from error, that the latter may be rejected, and the former stored up in his memory, and retained for use. "The wise" appreciates knowledge according to its utility, and never loses sight of its practical application. It is his desire that his whole character may be formed by the truth which he receives from the divine record. The Psalmist expresses the "wisdom of the wise," in this respect, when he says-" Thy word have I bid in my heart, that I sin not against thee."
Vers Pro_18:16. "A man's gift' maketh room for him, and bringeth him before great men."*
* Compare Pro_17:8; Pro_19:6.
Some would render, instead of "maketh room," "maketh enlargement," that is, procures release and liberty. On this principle the governor Felix acted toward the Apostle Paul, eager for the gratification of his own avaricious disposition,* His was a basely sordid and unprincipled expectation. Alas! that a feeling so mean and despicable as well as profligate should be so common, under one form or another!-How often does it happen, that, when a man is unknown as to his rank and condition,-however fair and worthy his suit may be,-all is distance, and reserve,-all cold repulsiveness; and recourse is had to any pretext whatever in order to get rid of him;-but when afterwards, his station and wealth are discovered, and he is found to be a man who has a good deal in his power,-from whom something may be expected;-O what a change!-how many apologies, and regrets, and thousands of excuses!-what altered looks and manner! what obsequiousness, politeness, and courtesy! what cringing, what flattery! He who before refused a look or word of ordinary civility, would now go to the ends of the earth to serve one so worthy! nothing too great or too good to be done for him! all at his command!-Shame on our fallen nature! He who can thus basely stoop from the manly dignity of independence; and, instead of taking his ground in character alone,-in the realities of substantial excellence,-can condescend to accept of civilities and honours and tokens of respect, paid him solely for his conferred or expected gifts,-is, if possible, even more contemptible than he by whom those gifts are received. The "great men" are little men, into whose presence "a gift" obtains admission, when sterling worth would fail of finding it. And when there is any principle involved, and the gift comes for the purpose of bribing that principle out of the way of access,-it ought to be, and by every man of right character it will be, rejected with honest indignation-an indignation that blushes at being thought capable of such disgraceful and criminal pliancy. It will be thus rejected, independently of what the world may say; but a regard to character will. at the same time, concur, with a regard to principle, in commanding its rejection; for even were the giver of the gift to gain his plea fairly, independently of his bribe,-to the bribe the success would be imputed,-and the fairness of the decision in itself would be considered as only accidental and fortunate,-the "gift" ensuring the sentence, let the merits of the case be what they may. He who makes his way by "gifts" deserves to be disappointed:-and he is truly honourable, and proves himself worthy of implicit confidence, and of the happy results of such a character, who, under the dominant power of principle, scorns and repudiates the "gift," how valuable soever it may be, and does disappoint him.
* Act_24:26.
O! my hearers, remember, every one of you-that there is One to whom no gift of yours can introduce you,-with whom nothing you can ever have it in your power to offer can obtain you favour,-and yet an introduction to whom, and the attainment of whose favour, is to each one of you of infinite value. There is no offering that can "make way for you" to the presence of the God Op Heaven. Could you pour at his feet the treasures of all worlds, you would be giving him only what was his own. Yet, there is a way made for you:-not by any gift of yours,-but by the gift for you of Himself-by the divine Mediator. If you approach in that way to the God of salvation, you may come fearlessly to His very seat; and you will find it a mercyseat; you will have a sure acceptance and a gracious welcome, both now and in the great day.
Verse Pro_18:17. "He that is first in his own cause seemeth just; but his neighbor cometh and searcheth him."-We have, in this verse, another evidence of the identity of human nature in all times and places. There are different causes of the pleasure we derive from particular sayings. Sometimes it arises from its profoundness and originality; while at other times it springs from its very striking conformity with every-day fact, and the pithy brevity and terseness with which that is put into words which has so frequently been marked, in every one's own experience-with which that is said, which every one has seen. The latter is the description under which comes the case before us. Every day is the proverb verified; and in a variety of ways:
1. He who comes first may give a statement which, in some of its particulars, is false-contrary to the actual facts of the case. The falsehood of these particulars may not be detected. The story, as told, may hang well together, being made to wear a very imposing verisimilitude. It may look so like truth, from its very consistency, that its plausibility may almost force belief. But "his neighbor comes." He detects and exposes what is untrue in the statement, and so gives the account an entirely new and different aspect.
2. The statement may in no particular be false; but it may be partial;-the truth being told, but not the whole truth. Now, it is wonderful, how the leaving out of a single circumstance, and one, perhaps, that appears in itself trivial, often affects an entire narrative, altering its whole complexion. The "neighbor comes," he introduces what had been concealed, and startles you by a surprisingly new view of the matter. The insertion, in its appropriate place, of the omitted fact constrains the instant exclamation-"Ah! that is very different-quite another thing!"
3. There may be additions as well as omissions. Some new circumstance may be left out by the one, which is not to be found in the account of the other. The "neighbor" that "comes and searches," finds this addition, and throws it out,-and so produces as thorough a change as, in the former case, was produced by inserting what had been omitted.
4. There may be nothing false, and nothing partial-that is, all the particulars may be introduced, all the facts told,-and neither may there be any additions;-but they may be arranged, connected, and coloured, in different ways. In one way of telling the story, prominence is given to some particular, which in the other account is indeed introduced, but is represented as of little moment, and thrown very much into the shade. In the different statements, this is before that, and that is before this:-and you can readily conceive how the inversion of the order of facts, and of their relative positions in regard to each other, their mutual dependencies and casual relations, may produce two stories essentially different.
The effect produced in this way on a narration may be illustrated from the effect produced by grouping in a picture. The very same set of objects may be in two different paintings; but by their different arrangement or collocation,-an object being in the foreground of the one, large and distinct, which, in the other, is thrown far back into the distance, diminutive and hardly visible; while some other object, which was in the shade of diminutiveness, is brought forward into magnitude and prominence,-two pictures may be produced as different as possible in appearance and effect. The same thing might be illustrated from the different and even opposite sentiments which may be brought out by changing the collocation of the same set of words;-and by the difference too of effect produced, without any change in the arrangement of the words, by a change in the emphasis from one word to another.
The colouring and grouping of the facts of the same story may be the result of an intention to deceive and to produce a false impression. Yet it is wonderful to what an extent it may arise, almost unconsciously, from the secret influence of self-love, which really makes the very same things appear widely different, in their relative bearings and comparative importance, to ourselves, from what they do to another;-even to a neutral party-far more to an adversary. It has become proverbial, that there are always two sides to a story.
Let us see, then, what are the lessons of practice, deducible from this: for we do nothing to purpose, when we merely attend to the fact, as one of the characteristics of human nature. There are lessons for parties in a cause, and lessons for those who may be called to decide between them. As to the parties, then-let them learn, in the first place, not to be too easily, hastily, touchily displeased and irritated by each other's statements; but mutually to make allowance for the natural tendencies of self-regard to make the best of a case for self, when there is no actual falsehood or obviously intentional mis-statement of facts.-Let them further learn to avoid being unreasonably dissatisfied with those who hesitate, or even refuse, to decide upon their single statement; remembering the tendency just noticed to favour self, and how hard they would esteem it, were the cause to be decided on the single representation of the other party. Let them apply, in this as in other cases, the great general law of equity and love.
As to others,-especially when called to form a judgment between parties,-let them learn to maintain a rigid and determined adherence to the rule of hearing both sides before deciding. The rule should be regarded as indispensable, even in the ordinary occurrences of everyday life:-and it is of special importance in exercising the functions of judges, jurymen, arbitrators, and members of churches in cases of discipline. The judgment should be kept entirely in suspense, till both sides have been fully heard. The first may "seem right;" but we must not allow-not only our lips to pronounce any decision, but even our minds to be prepossessed by his statement, till we have called in "his neighbor" to "search him." Not even the representation of the dearest, the most confidential, upright, and best-principled friend on earth should be taken at once, and without a hearing of the other party. As self makes the very same things appear to the opposite parties in different lights; as they see them with different eyes, and through different mediums,-how under these different impressions, can their statements fail, though both are ever so conscientious, to make correspondingly different impressions on others? We may frequently have cause to say, even to the friend in whose integrity we place the most unbounded confidence, Really, dear friend, you have taken too strong a view of this matter:-the thing does not seem to us to have been done or said in the spirit in which it appeared to you to have been; nor can we regard jt as in itself possessing anything like the importance you ascribe to it, or calculated to produce the consequences you apprehend from it.
We ought not to allow ourselves to be driven from a strict adherence to this rule by any offence which either party, that happens to come first, may be disposed to take at his statement not being at once and unqualifiedly accepted. If persons will be unreasonable, we cannot help it. We may endeavour to show them that we are not suspecting at all their veracity; but, whether we succeed or not, we must abide by our rule. Every man of sound sense and right principle will be satisfied, on reflection, with the necessity of an unswerving adherence to it; from which he will feel, that he has no more right to insist on his being an exception, than another has. We are not commanded to have the same confidence in the representations of one as in those of another. Difference of known character may put this quite out of the question. But in all cases, Hear both sides must be our rule; and the longer we live, we shall feel the duty the more imperative of holding to it with unfailing constancy.
The subject of next verse we considered in a former lecture:*-"The lot causeth contentions to cease, and parteth between the mighty." As the lot was had recourse to when causes were such as admitted not of determination otherwise, there seems to be a natural enough relation of suggestion between this verse and the preceding. In cases when representations differed, and the evidence between them was such as to leave it impossible to say certainly on which side was the preponderance; or when the parties would not submit to arbitration; or when they were too powerful to be safely meddled with;-then "the lot caused contentions to cease, and parted between the mighty."
* Pro_16:33.
Perhaps it might not be amiss if "wars and fightings," from which such an amount of misery and all evil is ever arising, were to be prevented in a similar way, both between individuals and nations: unless-as arbitration ought to be resorted to by individuals, when they cannot come to an agreement themselves-there might be instituted, on the principles of national honour and good faith, some great general tribunal of appeal for the countries and governments of Europe, whose decision, in cases of international differences, should, by mutual convention, be binding, and to which such differences might be referred.
I must not leave this subject without an additional remark or two, especially to my younger hearers. I formerly offered a few observations on "chance games," in connexion with this subject. These, I have some reason to think, have not, in some quarters, been rightly understood. I have been represented as not condemning such games. Now, if I heard of a youth saying, in these terms or in the spirit of them-"Oh! the minister tells us that cards are not the devil's books they have been called; that there is, after all, no harm in them,"-I should tremble for that youth. I should fear he had contracted, or is in course of contracting, a liking for such play. Should the simple expression of a sentiment respecting the abstract evil of "games of chance" as such, take off from his mind any portion of the salutary restraint which I am anxious he should feel, bitterly should I mourn his delusion. Let such a youth recollect, that they have deceived and ruined many a precious soul; that they have dissipated many a fortune, and turned, in ten thousand instances, plenty to beggary, freedom to a jail, life, health and vigour to emaciation and the grave; that they are marks of a worldly character; that they do stir up the worst passions of the heart; and that they have covered many a fair character with infamy:-and let him tremble when he ventures on such ground. O beware of beginnings! You only show inexperience, and ignorance of yourselves, if you fancy you are sure of never going beyond a given limit. Small stakes lead to greater. Losses themselves seduce onward by the hope of retrieving. The meshes of the net entangle the feet more and more inextricably. Temptation presses on temptation. Dishonesty, and pilfering, and mayhap forgery, supplies the exhausted purse. Tho horrors of an evil conscience are drowned in intemperance and dissipation. The conscience becomes seared. Health gives way. Character and confidence and credit are lost. Phrenzy tempts to self-destruction, or the body pines to the dust, and the soul sinks into perdition.-Who are they, let me ask you, among the young people you know, that indulge in play-in the various species of gambling? Are they the sober, the virtuous, the godly? or are they the idle, the dissipated, the profligate, the worldly, the reckless of God and of eternity? The youth who joins himself to such, or who begins to look favourably on any of their ways-is in imminent peril. He is on the verge of a precipice. He is on the way, it may be, to the gaming-table and to hell. Let him start and turn, ere it be too late,-as he values his everlasting happiness. And I affectionately beseech you, let not your perdition, by your misunderstanding or perverting any sentiment of mine, be traceable, even were it but as the innocent occasion, to me!
Verse Pro_18:19. "A brother offended is harder to be won than a strong city; and their contentions are like the bars of a castle."-The word offended signifies here, evidently, provoked, roused to resentment. And the words imply, that when a brother is thus offended, the resentment is more violent, and the reconciliation more hard to be effected, than where the difference is with a stranger. And so it is whether the offence be without just ground, or with it. I might refer to the cases of Cain and Abel; of Joseph and his brethren; of Absalom and Amnon; of Esau and Jacob. In each of these cases, nothing short of death was plotted and resolved.-The verse seems to point chiefly to cases of offence given; and the words contain a caution against offending, as well as against being offended. It is supposed, however, that offence has actually been taken as well as given. Unbrotherly conduct;-ungrateful returns for favours bestowed,-for efforts and sacrifices made, to promote a brother's interests; a course perhaps of provocation long borne with,-the irritating and offensive conduct often passed over, and as often repeated,-has led at last to a rupture: patience and forbearance have been worn out, and anger and alienation substituted for long-suffering affection. "A brother" thus "offended is harder to bo won than a strong city; and their contentions are like the bars of a castle."
The matter of fact is here stated-and there are natural enough reasons to account for it. More is justly expected from a brother than from a stranger-more of affection, gratitude, kindly treatment, fidelity and trustworthiness. When such expectations are disappointed, the wound in the spirit is proportionally deeper, and more difficult of healing,-the breach wider, and harder of being made up. Besides, the slower a person is to take offence,-the longer he forbears,-the more he forgives,-the more difficult it is fairly to overcome the yearnings of affection, and break the bonds of brotherhood,-the more inveterate may the spirit of resentment be; the more sullen and distant the alienation, when it is actually produced. The offended brother cannot get the better of it. He broods over it;-and the more he broods, the more he feels. The more he reflects on the offender's violated obligations, the more aggravated does his culpability appear. He looks, and justly, for acknowledgment; while the offender, possibly, thinks the less, instead of the more, of his offence, because it is only a brother against whom it has been committed, and is apt to expect forgiveness without acknowledgment. Thus, on both sides, there is too much of stern unbending pride; and continued distance widens more and more, instead of diminishing.
Persons are in danger of taking undue advantage of their near relationships, and of using unaccountable liberties;-of forming and cherishing the most extravagant expectations, insisting on their fulfilment, and absurdly and pertinaciously resenting their refusal;-of doing to a brother what they never would think of doing to another person. They forget, that to use a brother ill is worse than the same ill-usage to a stranger. It is strongly felt to be so; and when mutual alienation has actually taken place; when brother has cut brother; when intercourse is suspended,-their doors respectively closed against each other; and when, if they have families, these make the quarrel their own, each taking part with him whom they regard as their injured husband and parent;-the spectacle is indeed a sad one. And, as each, instead of feeling the duty of himself giving in, or being the first to attempt a reconciliation, looks for the first step from the other side, and cannot bring himself down to make the first advances, (O false and unworthy pride!) the castle-bars remain undrawn; and, rusting in their hold, become more and more difficult to force open:-and the unseemly contentions the unhappy and mischievous feuds-pass down from generation to generation! It is not always thus. The grace of God ought, in all its subjects, to prevent such breaches, and, if unhappily they have at any time taken place, it should have power to heal the wounds, to draw heart again to heart,-to unfasten "the bars," and open the gates of mutual reconciliation:-"The wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated." Christians are brethren. They are members of one family. It becomes them to love and live as brethren; to be slow to give, and slow to take, offence; to be humble, and ready to pardon; to delight in reconciliation and peace themselves, and in successfully mediating, and making peace between others. The gospel is the gospel of peace; of love; of forgiveness; of harmony between God and men, and between all who are reconciled to God and to one another through the blood of the covenant. Their "bars" should be those which shut out causes of offence, and will give no admission to the demons of discord. "Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious ointment upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron’s beard: that went down to the skirts of his garments, as the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of Zion: for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even life for evermore!" Ps. 133.
