"There is gold, and a multitude of rubies: but the lips of knowledge are a precious jewel. Take his garment that is surety for a stranger; and take a pledge of him for a strange woman. Bread of deceit is sweet to a man; but afterwards his mouth shall be filled with gravel. Every purpose is established by counsel; and with good advice make war. He that goeth about as a talebearer revealeth secrets; therefore meddle not with him that flattereth with his lips. Whoso curseth his father or his mother, his lamp shall be put out in obscure darkness. An inheritance may be gotten hastily at the beginning, but the end thereof shall not be blessed."
It is evident that, in the first of these verses, it is intended to bring the two things mentioned into comparison. And the comparison may be considered as designed, first, in regard to abundance and scarcity. The idea is conveyed, of the one article being in plenty, and the other being a rarity. "There is gold and a multitude of rubies"-that is, there is no lack of these. "But the lips of knowledge,"-which, of course, presuppose and include the mind enlightened and the heart influenced by the knowledge which the lips impart,-are "a precious jewel." Some jewels are more common, some more rare; the rarest being the most precious and costly. Now such a jewel-a diamond of the purest water,-"a pearl of great price,"-are "the lips of knowledge," lips diffusing knowledge from a wise and understanding heart.
The comparison is also designed in regard to the real intrinsic worth of the things mentioned,-their sterling value. "Knowledge" is an attribute of mind; and even in this view possesses a nature more excellent than mere external property,-of which the veriest fool, who has little if any mind at all, may chance at times to have the largest share. As mind ranks above matter, "knowledge" ranks above wealth; and as of all the descriptions of knowledge which mind can possess, that which has God for its object is, beyond comparison, the most valuable, the lips that communicate it are inestimably precious. They are precious in all seasons, under all circumstances, and in all the relationships of life. And there is a time (as some who now hear me are delightfully and soothingly feeling) when, above all others, "the lips of knowledge" are thus precious-when life itself is closing. The deathbed sayings of dying saints-O what "precious jewels" these are! It is not, indeed, on deathbed sayings that our hopes rest of the everlasting wellbeing of those we love. The nature and circumstances of their departure may be such as not to admit of them; and we look to the surer evidence of the previous consistent life,-the manifestations in it of the sincerity and the power of faith. But still, we desire and delight to have them. What could "gold and the multitude of rubies" do, to soothe the agitated and agonized spirit, in the season of bereavement and sorrow, when "the desire of our eyes has been taken away by God's stroke?" But how full of comfort-true, rich, sterling comfort-when the afflicted heart can have recourse to the fondly-retentive memory, where, as in a cabinet, these gems of inestimable value are laid up, and take them down, and examine them over and over again, and still with new and growing satisfaction!-Yes, the dying utterances of the "lips of knowledge" are jewels-on which survivors know not how to set a value! And, while peculiarly precious to relatives and friends, they are precious to all, as delightful proofs of the reality of religion,-of the divinity of the gospel,-affording a confirmation to our faith, and a cheering animation to our hope, in anticipating the time of our own final adieu to the present world, with all that endears it to our affections!
Verse Pro_20:16. "Take his garment that is surety for a stranger; and take a pledge of him for a strange woman."-The subject of suretiship has already been more than once before us.*1 The case here supposed is in the first place one of grievous imprudence. It is becoming surety for "a stranger;" a person of whom the man who "strikes hands" knows little or nothing, either as to his property or his character-whether he has the means of relieving the suretyship, or whether he has the honest intention;-any new acquaintance, who has accidentally fallen in his way, who chances to please him, and for whose company and conversation and manners he takes a sudden fancy. Any dealings with the man who acts thus involve the greatest risk. This is expressed in the language-" Take his garment that is surety for a stranger." The meaning is, lend such a man nothing without good security-the utmost that can be got, to his very garment. The strong terms are probably intended to convey the advice to have nothing whatever to do with a man of this description-to decline all dealings with him. This is the more likely, that the garment was the very last thing that, under the Jewish law, was allowed to be taken in pledge; and it was not permitted to be kept beyond the passing day.*2
*1 Pro_6:1-2; Pro_11:15; Pro_17:18. rr
*2 See Exo_22:26-27.
It is a case also of infatuated profligacy: "And take a pledge of him for a strange woman." Two reasons might be assigned for this,-a more general, and a more special:-first, because he is a profligate character; giving his time and his strength to vicious indulgence, and not, therefore, very likely to be steadily attentive to business, or very mindful of principle in the management of it;-exposed to temptation, to spend on his vices what ought to be reserved for payment of his debts, and not, consequently, safe to be trusted. The less you have to do with him the better. Then, secondly, because when a man has become the slave of this particular description of passions,-when he has fallen into the snare of the harlot,-when he has surrendered himself to the fascinations of female blandishment, there is hardly anything so foolish, and hardly anything so base, which the woman in whose toils he has been taken may not prevail upon him to do. To this, alas! experience, in all ages, and in all nations, bears most ample testimony.
Verse Pro_20:17. "Bread of deceit is sweet to a man; but afterwards his mouth shall be filled with gravel." This is a very lively and pithy figure to express a very important sentiment. The sentiment is this:-"Property obtained by unjust means, how gratifying soever at the time the acquisition of it may be, will ultimately yield anything but satisfaction." Whence may this be supposed to arise? First, from conscience. Success in fraudulent schemes may for the time blind the man's mind who is practising them, from being sufficiently sensible of the evil he is doing. It may infatuate him. It may lay his conscience asleep, and keep it slumbering. Thus for a while he may rejoice in his newly acquired possessions. But the hurry and eagerness of the pursuit subside; the novelty of acquisition wears off; the man has leisure for reflection. Then conscience begins its work of reproof. It arraigns him secretly, within the privacy of his own bosom, at its bar. It passes sentence on the means by which he has got what is giving him his pleasure; puts a sting into the recollection of them. Thus his present enjoyment is embittered by memory. Memory is for ever summoning him anew before the tribunal of conscience, and reading new articles of indictment against him. Thus all the sweetness is extracted from his enjoyment. His bread is "eaten with bitter herbs;" or, to keep by the figure before us,-"his mouth is filled with gravel." Nothing could be more emphatically expressive of hitter disappointment, than the idea of a hungry man putting into his mouth, with an eager appetite, the bread that should relieve and satisfy his craving, and finding it turn to sand and gravel stones!
A further cause is the absence of the blessing of God. God is righteous. He can regard with no complacency possessions which have been thus obtained. He curses them. And the variety is endless, of the ways in which He can make his hidden curse to be felt. He can, as we have been mentioning, make the inward monitor do its duty, and become the unrighteous man's secret tormentor. He can bring his frauds to light by means that are beyond the culprit's control, and which no efforts of his can possibly counteract; and thus cover him with infamy, and even deprive him of his ill-gotten gains, and bring him to poverty, by taking confidence and credit away from him. Or He can make his successful frauds and his ill-gotten gains the means of tempting him to further speculations, by which all comes to be lost that he had acquired. Or He can render him, to his ruin, the miserable mortified dupe of artifices still deeper than his own. In these and a hundred other ways, He can verify the proverb, and convert the "bread of deceit" into mouthfuls of gravel.* We shall take in connexion with the sentiment of this verse that in the twenty-first, "An inheritance may be gotten hastily at the beginning; but the end thereof shall not be blessed."-As to this verse, it must be evident, that in the word "hastily" more is implied than is expressed. A man may get an estate, and a large one too, with all the abundance attendant upon it, by succession;-may thus come to it at once, yet with perfect integrity on his part. Nay, by sudden events, affecting the state of markets, a man may make a fortune with startling rapidity, and be chargeable with nothing inconsistent with the most conscientious principle. Or the sudden acquisition may be the consequence of some speculation of a perfectly honest and even prudent and altogether justifiable character, with which no one has any fair ground to find fault. But "hastily," here, is evidently meant to imply that some improper and unjustifiable means have been employed to expedite possession. A man, for instance, may, by violence, remove from the inheritance its present occupant, and thus make way, before the time, for himself; or, by some unrighteous means, he may supplant the immediate successor,-the one who comes between himself and the present occupant. Or, in the prosecution of business, there may be an over-eager "hasting to be rich,"-by oppressing and grinding the poor,-by defrauding the public revenue,-by raising false reports and employing other unfair means to affect the money-market,-the rate of exchange, or the value of particular descriptions of goods and property. "But in the end, it shall not be blessed." The possessor may appear happy; but there are no cases in which it would be more foolish for us to judge according to appearances. There may, many a time, be a great amount of secret misery, that is not visible to the eye of man. So much so, that it is very difficult for us to say, when a man is really happy in earthly things, and when he is not. There is often much of the semblance of happiness assumed in the intercourse of general society that covers a sad reality both of personal and domestic misery. The smile may be upon the lips, when the worm of secret remorse is gnawing at the heart. The face that is all glee in the public assemblies of fashion and gaiety, may be all gloom and fretfulness at the fireside; and the brow that is serene and unclouded in the parlour, may be depressed with melancholy or knitted with agony in the solitary chamber or the lonely walk.
* Comp. Jer_17:11.
And above all, there is a sense of the words-"in the end it shall not be blessed," that should make the heart of every unrighteous and selfish "hasten to be rich," "meditate terror." At the last-in the dying hour, and in that day when "God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing,"-instead of blessing, it will bring the distress of remorseful anticipation, and the shame and curse and "everlasting contempt" in which all must end that is contrary to the will of the Just One. It is a simple but affecting statement-" "When he dieth he shall carry nothing away." He may even die in possession; but nothing can he carry one step beyond the confines of life,-nothing save remorse and despair; and these, when all else fails him, shall abide with him for ever. Present gain shall be future and eternal loss.
In the former part of the next verse we have a general maxim of practical importance, and in the latter the application of it to a special case:-
1. The general maxim:-"Every purpose is established by counsel." It is a truth, both with regard to good counsel and to evil: for by good counsel evil purposes may be overturned, and by evil counsel purposes that are good. How often do wicked men consult together for establishing their evil devices, and the more effectually accomplishing their purposes and plans of mischief! So ought we to do, in regard to purposes and plans for good. The first inquiry should be, to ascertain fully that it is indeed good we are proposing to seek 3 and then, the better it is, the more solicitous should we be to adopt right and promising means for its attainment. This is the proper order, both for consideration in our own minds, and consultation with others:-first, the goodness of the end; then the goodness of the means:-and our anxiety for sound and wholesome counsel should be in proportion to the probable nat1u'e and magnitude of consequences from any projected plan of procedure. 2. We have a special application of the general maxim:-"With good advice make war." It must be obvious to you, that this is quite the opposite of an encouragement to a warlike spirit. It assumes, indeed, that war may be made; and even that there are cases in which it cannot be avoided. But the evident meaning is, that in no case should it be made rashly and inconsiderately;-but that, on the contrary, the utmost deliberation and the soundest advice are necessary ere it be resorted to. I shall make no attempt to paint war’s unnumbered horrors. It has written Aceldama and Golgotha on many a fair and flourishing region of our globe. I will not describe either the battle scene itself, or the battlefield when the battle itself is over,-the phrenzy of the one, or the woe of the other;-the frantic thirst for blood, the eagerness of effort to cleave heads and pierce hearts, and in every way wound and maim and kill, that rages during the conflict;-nor, when the conflict is done, the ghastly and frightful wounds, the maimed and mutilated bodies, the pains and groans and shrieks of the dying, and all the untold horrors of the field of carnage and blood. Such a field I can well believe to be a scene, of which none but those who have actually beheld it can form a conception equal to the truth. Nor will I pass from that scene to remind you of what some of us can look back upon with a sigh-of the multitudes of bereaved and weeping fathers and mothers, wives and children, brothers and sisters, and relatives of all degrees, which are the necessary consequence of every battle, whether by land or by sea. And when I have mentioned the expenditure of human life, I should be ashamed to notice after it, as unworthy of being brought into comparison, the expenditure of the national treasures, and the consequent burdening of the nation's property, and income, and articles of consumption. War should be a word, needing only to be named, to fill every heart with indignant abhorrence; it is environed with so many of the very worst realities of misery. Alas! on this very account, that it should, at the same time, be surrounded with so many false glories-so many enticing honours! It requires to be so, to induce any to engage in it. They are dazzled by its honours to tempt them to face its dangers.
I am by no means prepared to go so far as some have gone, by whom war, in every case, and under every form of it, whether defensive or offensive, is held unjustifiable. I would say, however-
1. None but wars that are strictly defensive can, on any principle of humanity or of justice, be vindicated; nor ought they even to be palliated. All wars that are undertaken for conquest,-for the extension of territory,-for the gratification of either kingly or national ambition,-or for any similar purposes, I can regard in no other light than as schemes of wholesale injustice, cruelty, oppression, and murder. All the blood that is shed in them is the blood of murder. It is on the nation's hands, and cries from the ground for vengeance. And those who undertake and prosecute such wars, instead of being complimented with the epithets of greatness, bedizzened with marks of honour, and their names handed down to posterity with the halo of glory around them, should be pilloried to the execrations of all succeeding ages. Such have all the men of mere conquest and ambition been-from Nimrod to Napoleon.
2. Even with regard to defensive wars,-wars which we may consider justifiable in their abstract principle,-it should be well ascertained, that they really are defensive. In my mind, the full extent of justifiable war is this-that when an attack is made, we be prepared to repel it. I am more than jealous of all wars that are undertaken on the surmise and suspicion of existing intentions,-of problematical possibilities or probabilities of what another nation is projecting and intending against us. This is hazardous ground for creatures to take, who "know not what a day may bring forth." We may thus, on the ground of mere apprehension, of what may have no existence save in our own minds, attack and wrong an unoffending nation, and waste both their lives and those of our own countrymen on the mere peradventure, the mere mayhap of our own too jealous sensitiveness. And then, when it really does bear the proper character of defensive war,-has everything possible been done, on our part, to shun it?-every practicable expedient tried, and tried in earnest, for preventing matters coming to the extremity? Have all such explanations and concessions been made as by possibility can be made? Has every becoming anxiety been shown to maintain or restore a good understanding, and avoid an evil, or rather an accumulation of evils, so dreadful? As I could not justify an individual who should take the life of another, so long as there existed the remotest possibility of effecting his own safety and escape otherwise; so neither could I undertake to vindicate even wars of defence, if proper means, every means at all accessible, had not been used to prevent their necessity; and their necessity, as measured-I am afraid to say by the nation's honour, for that is so very often nothing more than the nation's touchy and sensitive pride,-but by the nation's safety. Assuredly, in nineteen cases out of twenty, the best advice would be, not to make war at all:-and a truly wise and good Government will ever incline to this counsel and to this course. But alas! princes and governments have most generally been of another mind. They have too often stood upon every punctilio, and rather sought and. fomented occasions of quarrel, than done what they could to avoid and to remove them. They have looked for all concession from the one side; and have too frequently excited the very cause that has produced the hostile position, and then converted it into their apology! Would it could be said of our own country, that in these respects, either in times more recent or more remote, she was free of blame! Like Moab, alas! we have been "exceeding proud." And, while this has been a national sin, it has too often also been the sin of our princes. Warlike kings have had, as a matter of course, warlike courtiers. Whenever a monarch has said, "Shall I go up to Ramoth-Gilead to battle? or shall I forbear?"-there have always been enow of Zedekiahs, with their lips of flattery and their symbolical horns of iron, to say, "Go and prosper!" and but few Micaiahs, men of honest and independent principle,-"faithful among the faithless"-to lift the voice of dissuasion. It ought to be "good advice" indeed, well-weighed, and seriously, deliberately taken, when peace or war is the alternative.
The spirit of the verse is of course applicable to all private personal and domestic differences and quarrels. O be men of peace; and be peacemakers. This is the character befitting the followers of the "Prince of peace." All such should deprecate war, and should do all that lies in their power to diffuse and cherish the spirit of peace. In a nation like ours, where public opinion and feeling have such an amount of imperative influence, this is of special importance. For true indeed is the language of a Christian poet of our own-
"War is a game, which, were their subjects wise,
Kings should not play at."
The taste for war is the most dreadful taste for the wellbeing of the world that can possibly prevail.
Verse Pro_20:19. "He that goeth about as a talebearer revealeth secrets; therefore meddle not with him that flattereth with his lips." It seems to be the malignant talebearer that is, at least especially, meant in this verse. The first object is-to get secrets. This is the end of the flattery in the second clause of the verse. He "flattereth with his lips" to insinuate himself into the good graces of individuals and families, and to draw out their secrets from them, by working himself into intimate familiarity. And, to further his end, he, directly or indirectly, by sly insinuations or open abuse; as best suits particular cases, gratifies their feeling of dislike to their enemies. Then-having wormed out the wished-for secrets,-to those very enemies he is immediately off, to tell them all, and to pour into their ears flattery of themselves, and abuse of those he had just been flattering. He "goeth about" from one to another,-from family to family; retails his stories; makes his comments; and leaves his wounds to rankle and inflame in successive bosoms.
Mark the warning-"Meddle not with him." When you find a man disposed to flatter yourselves, and to ridicule and vilify the absent-suspect him; beware of him; make no confidential communications to him. He is aiming at some end of his own. The less you have to say to him, or to do with him, the better. The probability is, that in the very next place to which he goes, you yourself may be the subject of his ill-natured sarcasms, and the very persons he has to you been reviling, the subjects of his flattery.
Verse Pro_20:20. "Whoso curseth his father or his mother, his lamp shall be put out in obscure darkness."*1 To curse is to imprecate evil on any one. How monstrous the thought!-" cursing father or mother!" the authors of your being! the preservers and nourishers of your infancy and childhood!-the proper guardians of your boyhood and youth! Surely on the lip that utters a curse against his father must come the curse of the Father of all! By the law of Moses the offence was death;*2 and although the provisions of the criminal law of the Jews are not, in all their peculiarities, binding on other peoples,-yet, as given by God, they show us His mind as to the evil to which the punishment was annexed. The divine displeasure is here expressed by a remarkably significant figure:-"his lamp shall be put out in obscure darkness." The figure of a "lamp" is sometimes used for a son-who preserves a man's name or memory in the world, keeping it up to successive generations.*3 If we take the figure in this view of it, the meaning here will be, that the name and memory of such a son as is described shall be extinguished and forgotten,-as unworthy to be remembered. The punishment would thus correspond with the offence. The figure is also used in connexion with outward prosperity.*4 The meaning, in that case, will be-he shall not prosper; the curse of God shall rest on him and on his substance, blasting his schemes, frustrating his hopes, and covering him with shame. Perhaps, as death was the punishment of the sin by the law,-the "lamp" may signify the lamp of life itself. God has doomed him to die: and if he repent not, not only shall the lamp of temporal life be quenched, but the lamp of life eternal shall be quenched in the blackness of darkness for ever!
