Ralph Wardlaw Lectures on Proverbs - Proverbs 18:9 - 18:14

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Ralph Wardlaw Lectures on Proverbs - Proverbs 18:9 - 18:14


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This Chapter Verse Commentaries:



LECTURE L.



Pro_18:9-14.



"He also that is slothful in his work is brother to him that is a great waster. The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe. The rich man's wealth is his strong city, and as a high wall in his own conceit. Before destruction the heart of man is haughty, and before honour is humility. He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him. The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity; but a wounded spirit who can bear?"



It must be obvious to every one, that the tendencies of waste and thriftlessness are the same with those ascribed to sluggishness and idleness* They tend alike to poverty. The slothful man might have more by diligence; the thriftless man might have more by economy. Diligence and economy are sister virtues; laziness and thriftlessness are kindred vices:-the sluggard is brother to the waster.



* See Pro_6:6-11; Pro_10:4.



The practical lesson is, that, in personal and domestic interests, diligence and economy should go together; and that the one without the other, never can avail, for either obtaining or securing, even the comforts of life. Of what use is industry if its proceeds are not prudently managed when they come in?-if husband, or wife, or both, be destitute of discretion, improvident and thriftless?-if there is the absence of all sober and considerate calculation, and, as a consequence, no due proportioning of outlay to income, but a reckless and wasteful expenditure, leaving an unlooked-for deficiency-a woeful amount minus-at the year’s end? The poor inconsiderate fools never think what they are about. They keep no daily reckoning-no accounts; and so their money is gone-they can’t tell how-they had no idea they were living at such a rate!-and even when they have made the discovery, there is no improvement. They say, possibly, they must take care; but they only say it, and immediately forget it. Things go on as before; and still (to use rather a colloquial, but sufficiently expressive phrase) what is taken in by the door is thrown out by the window, and still the wonder continues how it goes! They are ever marvelling how other folks do. They can’t understand it. For their parts, all that comes in finds its way off from them as fast as it comes, and many a time faster!-Thus, as might be expected, there are the same appearances of bareness, and cheerlessness, and want, in the dwelling of the thriftless as in that of the slothful. Extremes thus meet. The lesson of the verse is one for all stations. That which all, in every station, ought to aim at, is-a union of industry and economy; associated with a liberality proportionate to providentially bestowed means-a careful distinction being made between an economical, and a penurious and miserly, disposition,-a disposition that keeps all for self-that grasps hard, and can part with nothing. This is what God commands; and this is what will ever draw the approving and confiding admiration of men. Diligence, let me remind you, is as necessary for the acquisition of spiritual as of temporal good,-of the riches of divine knowledge to the mind, as of the blessings of the divine life to the heart.-And not less is economy of means. How often may it be seen, that with means of a very limited and stinted amount, there is more of spiritual prosperity in one instance, than is discoverable in another, with means the most varied and abundant. Many believers, it is to be feared, are spiritual spendthrifts. They use their privileges on no principle of economy. They read, they hear, they frequent ordinances,-and yet their progress in spiritual attainments bears no proportion to the extent of their advantages. Rich in privilege, they are poor in both the graces and enjoyments of the life of God in the soul. Why? The answer is plain. They who thrive on slender means, make the most of what they have; whereas they who live in the midst of abundance get into habits of carelessness, and of the prodigal use of what they have-allowing a great deal of it to run to waste. Fellow-Christians, guard against this tendency. Improve every part of what you enjoy, as if it were the whole; uniting thus diligence and carefulness, that "you may grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ;"-that the prayer of Paul for the Philippians may be fulfilled in your happy experience.*



* Php_1:9-11.



Verse Pro_18:10-12. "The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe. The rich man's wealth is his strong city, and as an high wall in his own conceit. Before destruction the heart of man is haughty, and before honour is humility."



Between these verses there is a manifest and interesting connexion; and we therefore take them together in illustration. "The Name of the Lord" means his character-his perfections, as revealed in His word;-what any one is, being naturally associated with, and suggested by, his name. When the Psalmist says, "They that know Thy name will put their trust in thee"*1-it is quite obvious, that by knowing Jehovah's name he means more than merely knowing that God was called Jehovah. It is to know God Himself;-the idiom being quite common in the Scriptures of using the name of a person as a phrase for the person to whom the name belongs. The comparison of Jehovah's name to "a strong tower" is frequent.*2 There is in this, occasion for grateful wonder; that to a sinner God's name should be a refuge!-Surely, it was not to have been expected that a rebellious and guilty creature should find his refuge there! It is that from which such a creature might be supposed to shrink and to flee, as yielding him anything but the prospect of protection and safety. It is God as revealed in His word that is meant. The grand object of that word is to make known the gospel-the way of salvation;-God in his true character as light and love; "delighting in mercy;" "in Christ reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them." It is in this character-in which he made himself known before the law, under the law, and more clearly under the dispensation of "the fulness of time,"-that God invites sinners to come to him, and to put their trust in him; in his name,-in his character, in the truths and promises of his covenant. To "the righteous-the name of the Lord"-the Lord in whom they have believed-" is a strong tower:"-a tower of impregnable security. And in times of temptation, trial, difficulty, and danger, it is always at hand,-so that they may "run into it," and feel their safety. All that can be imagined necessary to ensure protection is combined in Jehovah's Name. There is the union of mercy and love, wisdom, righteousness, faithfulness, and power, all pledged in covenant promise, by their God and Father in Christ. Thither, then, may the tried, afflicted, imperilled, tempted child of God ever betake himself; and there he will delightfully feel that all is safe and well. There he can sit secure and sing-" God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea," Psa_46:1-2.



*1 Psa_9:10. rr

*2 Psa_18:2; Psa_27:7; Psa_56:3-4; Psa_91:2; Psa_144:2.



In the next verse, a temptation is mentioned to a very different kind of confidence:-"The rich man's wealth is his strong city, and as an high wall in his own conceit." This is a "strong delusion," and shows the tendency of our nature, under various influences, to "believe a lie." Surely he is going on with "a lie in his right hand," who is thus "trusting in his wealth, and boasting himself of the multitude of his riches;"-who is thus "saying to the gold, Thou art my hope, and to the fine gold, Thou art my confidence;" who is thus "setting his heart upon that which is not." While he exults in his security, and regards his wealth as his "high wall" of protection from evils and sufferings that abound around him,-and alas! from within its entrenchments even sets at defiance the salutary admonitions of that God who gives him all, and warns him of a reckoning to come,-it is a "high wall" only "in his own conceit." It is a wall of no real strength, and affording no real safety,-either from the ills of time, or from the woes of eternity. It is a wall that is only "daubed with untempered mortar," and to which the words of the prophet may, in all their emphasis, be accommodated:-" Say unto them who daub it with untempered mortar, that it shall fall: there shall be an overflowing shower, and ye, O great hailstones, shall fall, and a stormy wind shall rend it," Eze_13:11. It is a wall which, even although no desolating storm should overthrow it in the rich worldling's life time, is to him, in the very decay of his own life, mouldering away, and coming to ruin; and leaving him, in the end, to the full and torturing experience of all that is meant by the simple but alarming question-" Then, whose shall those things be which thou hast provided?"-Or, to change the figure-Death, like an armed man, in the might of his resistless commission, shall invade his stronghold, at the very moment, it may be, when he is most confidently vaunting of its security;-and before that all-conquering power, no wealth shall profit him; "no, not gold nor all the forces of strength." The "haughty heart"-the spirit of proud and self-confident independence engendered and fostered by "wealth"-is but the prelude to "destruction."



Verse Pro_18:13. "He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him."--Nothing, to be sure, can be more preposterously foolish than the conduct thus described. It is, however, in all departments, strangely common.



It is very common in ordinary conversation. How frequently do you find people who interrupt and answer you, ere you have half finished, or perhaps well begun, what you have to say!-It is common too in causes submitted for judgment-not so much so, perhaps, as in the former case, yet painfully common. A decision is pronounced at once with all confidence, before the statement and the proof are half closed-It is no less common in matters of argument and controversy. Your opponent will not allow you to complete your process of reasoning, but starts into a reply long before you have done, or can possibly be understood.



These are points of fact and character, of every-day occurrence. The sources of the evil are various; and in touching on them, its nature, and the "folly and shame" of those by whom it is practised, will more fully appear. I notice, then-



1. Natural or acquired eagerness of spirit, and impatience of protracted inquiry.-Such minds cannot bear anything that requires close and long-sustained attention. They become uneasy, fretted, and fidgetty; and are ever anxious to catch at any occasion for cutting the matter short and being done with it.



2. The sympathy of passion with one or other of the parties.-One of them happens to be their friend; and whether it be he or his adversary that makes the statement, partiality for him stirs their resentment at the injury done to him; the blood warms; and, passion thus striking in, they hastily interrupt the narration-will hear no more of it,-and at once proceed to load the enemy of their friend with abuse and imprecation. They know their friend, and to them it is enough that he has been a sufferer; they take it for granted that he must be in the right.



3. Indolence-indisposition to be troubled.-This is a temper the very opposite of the first, but producing a similar effect. The former jumped to a conclusion from overeagerness; this comes soon to a close from sheer sluggishness of mind. It is to a man of this stagnant and lazy temperament an exertion quite unbearable to keep his mind so long on the stretch, as to listen even to a statement, and still more to an argument or pleading, that cannot be finished in a breath and done with. His attention soon flags; he gets sick of it; he seems as if he were listening, when he is not, and with a yawn of exhaustion and misery, he pronounces his verdict, and at times with great decision, for no other purpose than to get quit of the trouble. He can stand it no longer.



4. Self-conceit-the affectation of extraordinary acuteness.-This-would be an amusing character, were it not, at the same time, so provoking. The self-conceited man assumes a very sagacious and penetrating look:-sits down with apparent determination to hear out the cause on both sides, and to "judge righteous judgment." But it is hardly well begun, when the self-conceited man sees to the end of it. He starts up; his countenance beams with self-satisfaction; he throws aside the pen with which he had begun to take careful memoranda:-"Not the smallest need to go any farther-the case is clear as day-not a doubt about it-settled beyond a question-it is so, and so, and so." And the same is the case in all matters of controversy. You can't get leisure to state your argument. Whether it be favourable or unfavourable,-on the one side or on the other,-this man of wondrous penetration sees it all in an instant, as if by intuition; and he springs to the inference and to the answer, before you have well entered on your premises; or each argument in succession he catches out of your mouth, and finishes for you. It is surprising with what agility this spirit of self-conceit gets over difficulties. It sees none-no, never.



"Where others toil with philosophic force,

Its nimble nonsense takes a shorter course;

Flings at your head conviction in the lump,

And gains remote conclusions at a jump."



Did I say that this self-conceit never sees difficulties?-I was wrong. There is one case in which it is very likely, almost sure to see them. I mean, when others can't. Ah! then, it looks very grave, and shakes its head, and with oracular foresight, discerns a thousand-ay, and great and serious ones too.



"Be not ye," my brethren, thus "wise in your own conceits:" for "He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him." It is "folly" from whichsoever of these or of other causes it proceeds. And it is no less "shame." Many a time does it bring a man to shame, and cover him with confusion. In not a few cases, it is twenty to one if he hit upon the truth. And perhaps there can be few better ways to expose the folly and punish the presumption, than to allow the man to go on to his close; and then, when he is in the full flush and triumph of selfcomplacency, to point out to him calmly how completely he has mistaken and misjudged the case. At any rate, such treatment is well merited on his part, if it can only be inflicted (which is not perhaps easy) in a right spirit on ours.



Verse Pro_18:14. "The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity; but a wounded spirit who can bear?"-"When "the spirit" is fresh and vigorous, bodily infirmities, and even pains of the severest description, may be endured with a great measure of composure by natural fortitude alone: how much more when it is enlivened and sustained in energy by the grace of the gospel! There is no saying what degree of bodily suffering may be borne without shrinking, by a mind in the full action of its powers and principles, and animated by divine influences. "What have Christians, sinking to death under diseases the most agonizing, endured with smiling patience!-and what have martyrs submitted to with cheerfulness, in the dungeon, on the rack, on the scaffold, at the stake!-But when "the spirit" itself is "wounded"-when it is pierced and tortured, the bodily frame is shaken thereby to weakness and to the dust.



And what is "a wounded spirit?" The designation may be applied to the soul in various conditions. "The spirit" may be wounded, for example,-deeply, sorely wounded-by disappointed hopes;-especially when these hopes have rested on the attachment of a friend or friends, in whose faithfulness and love we have trusted, but by whom our confidence has been betrayed, and whose pledged affection has misgiven us:-when "our own familiar friend, who did eat of our bread, hath lifted up his heel against us:"-when the bosom on which we leaned and reposed proves false and treacherous:-when we find ourselves left alone, when most we required the sympathy, the counsel, and the aid of faithful friendship;-when we are "deserted at our utmost need" by those to whom we had looked with all the security of an undoubting reliance:-when, it may be, those who are "bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh," instead of dividing our sorrows and doubling our joys by fond and faithful participation, are cooled, alienated, estranged from us. O this, to such as may have experienced it, or may ever experience it, must be anguish itself. Well may we say, "Who can bear it ?"-The tortures of the joint-dislocating and bonebreaking wheel are not to be compared with the agony of a spirit thus wounded. To bear well-that is, to bear with right principle and in a right manner, even bodily and other providential inflictions, requires more than mere natural fortitude:-and to bear well the agony of "a wounded spirit," requires a measure still larger of the gracious influences of God's Holy Spirit,-and all the power of promise and of hope.



The words may also be applied to a wounded conscience,-a conscience pierced through with the arrows of a thousand convictions,-stung with self-accusations,-agitated, through the discovery of the spiritual and heart-searching character of the divine law, with the "fearful looking-for of judgment."-A "good conscience" is one of the firmest supports under the heaviest ills of life. It was amidst his sufferings from severe persecution, that Paul felt its preciousness. It was his "rejoicing." But-a true believer, enjoying reconciliation and peace with God through Jesus Christ, and "exercising himself to have always a conscience void of offence"-O how different his case, even when alive to a sense of many failings, from that of the poor sinner with unrepented, unconfessed, undeplored, unforgiven guilt lying upon his conscience,-and that conscience quickened to action-roused to its fearful functions-by the "fiery law." This is intolerable anguish. This form of the "wounded spirit who can bear?"*



* Psa_32:3-4; Psa_38:1-3.



By this desperate state of spirit, men are sometimes driven to conduct the most infatuated-and to the most fearful of all extremities-suicide itself; by which they seek refuge from the pangs of earth in the severer pangs of hell. This is one of the forms of that "sorrow of the world which worketh death."



The only cure for a wounded conscience is the blood of atonement-of the divinely provided, the divinely accepted, the divine atonement. There is no other way of true and, in the end, satisfactory deliverance from this deepest and most excruciating of all the wounds of the mind. It is a wound which cannot be borne, but in one or other of two ways. Either the conscience must be seared into hardness by familiarity with sin-drugged into insensibility by its intoxicating cup, (the most fearful curse under the form of a present relief which can ever, in the judicial vengeance of heaven, fall upon any sinner on earth,) or it must be divinely pacified by faith in the atoning Saviour. The wound is one which no influence of God's Spirit can ever be imparted to enable a man to bear. The Holy Spirit is given to deliver from it, not to sustain under it. And this He does by "taking of the things that are Christ's, and showing them" to the mind of the conscience-stricken and spirit-wounded sinner, leading him to "the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." Groaning under the load of his sins, which have become a burden too heavy for him to bear,-smarting in anguish with the stings of an awakened and busy conscience,-overwhelmed with the" fearful looking-for of judgment and fiery indignation"-the trembling sinner comes to the cross,-comes to it, under the gracious guidance of the Holy Spirit. It is there-" looking on Him whom he has pierced"-that he finds his effectual cure; there, that his wounded spirit is healed:-



"We sing a note that far transcends

The highest angel's highest strain:-

They never knew the pang that rends-

Nor felt the grace that heals the pain."



With what exquisite and touching pathos does the Christian Author of the Task-drawing from his own experience,-describe the anguish of "a wounded spirit," and the efficient means of cure!-



"I was a stricken deer, that left the herd

Long since:-with many an arrow deep infixed.

My panting side was charged when I withdrew,

To seek a tranquil death in distant shades.

There was I found by One who had himself

Been hurt by th' archers. In his side he bore,

And in his hands and feet the cruel scars.

With gentle force soliciting the darts,

He drew them forth, and heal'd, and bade me live!''



O my hearers, if a wounded conscience-a sense of guilt in the soul-is thus ill to be borne here; what will be the sufferings of the "wounded spirit" in the world to come!-where there will be no pleasures of sin to alleviate or to sear it!-when it will be excited to the keenest sensibility, and its arrows will be dipped in the venom at once of memory and hopeless anticipation!-when the spirit shall be "pierced through with many sorrows," and sorrows for which no softening and no cure shall ever be provided;-"no balm" in the place of final woe,-"no physician there!" "Their worm dieth not."



If such be the agony of a thoroughly awakened and sensitive conscience-will you think me cruel in expressing the wish and the prayer that every conscience in this assembly were thus awakened-thus endowed with sensibility?-Ah! my friends, the wish is as far as possible from being a cruel one. I wish your consciences awakened now, while you are within reach of healing; while you have access to the balm and to the physician. Now the cure is to be found. Now, peace and hope are attainable. The blood that cleanseth from all sin, will heal the very deepest, fiercest, and most agonizing wounds of the spirit. If a conscience awakened and armed with its torturing sting is fearful,-still more fearful, and more ominous of future misery, is a conscience seared and insensible. This is not peace; it is stupor; it is the sleep of death; it is the appalling prelude to death eternal!