mw. Wiwb. Uiq, !2l :M M m m Mm \im fit ]{<■<■■ V iii W' 1 m j'j; mmi m m k hV -! l'A> mm m m mmi n-^^\ ^KRYOFPRW^ •^^GICAISE*^ LECTURES THE BOOK OF ECCLESIASTES BY RALPH ^ARDLAW, D. D. Author of Discourses on the Principal points of the Socinian Costb©- FEKST, UnITAUIANISM InCAPABLE OF VINDICATION, &C. &C. TWO VOLUMES IN ONE PHILADELPHIA: PUBLISHED BY W. W. WOODWARD, NO. 52, SOUTH SECOND STREET. iS22. PREFACE. The following lectures were, in the substance of them, delivered, in the ordinary course of my weekly mini- strations, in the years 1810 and 1811. They have been entirely recomposed for the press. — Both their original delivery, and their subsequent preparation for the pub- lic in their present form, were suggested by the state of the times, which appeared, in the afflictive visitations of providence upon the mercantile interests of our coun- try, to press so powerfully the great lessons of the Book of Ecclesiastes upon the attention of its inhabitants ; and nowhere was the call more imperious, to "lay these lessons to heart," than in this great manufac- turing city. By this statement, the expectation will at once be precluded, in the reader's mind, of critical or philolo- gical disquisition. Of this, for very obvious reasons, it is the duty of a public teacher of the word of God, to be as sparing as is consistent with fidelity to truth. His first concern, it is true, ought certainly to be, to disco- ver, in every passage, " the mind of the Spirit," — the sentiment originally intended by the inspired writers to IV PREFACE. be conveyed ; for any other sentiment is not Divine revelation :— and therefore, if, in any particular instance, he is satisfied that the sense has been misapprehended by our English translators, it becomes incumbent upon him, with modesty, to point out the mistake, and to give what appears to be the true meaning. I need not say, however, that in the fulfilment of this duty, (for I will not call it the mere use of a liberty, ) self.diffidence and caution are peculiarly requisite. — In the following discourses, I have, with very few exceptions, assumed the correctness of the common English Version, in ex- pressing the sense of the original, being satisfied, that in most instances in which different translations have been proposed, its claims to preference are at least not inferior to those of others. Those who are desirous of examining the Book cri- tically, may have recourse to such authors as Desvoeux, Schultens, Dathius, Van der Palm, Hodgson, and others. In their works, the various opinions may be seen which have been entertained by different critics and commentators, respecting its great general object ; along with abundance, more and less valuable, of phi- lological remark and dissertation, for the elucidation of particular portions of it.— The commentary of Bishop Reynolds, as edited by the Rev- Mr. Washbourne in 1811, I did not see till the last of these lectures was at press. The general design of the Book is by some conceived to be simple, by others more complex ; and in this de- partment of sacred literature, as in others, there are not wanting occasional indications of the love of hypothesis, and originality. There has been also, I am tempted to PREFACE. V think, an unnecessary creation of difficulties. It sterns sufficiently clear, that the writer's first design is to illus- trate and prove, by a variety of examples, taken from his own experience and his observation of others, the position that " all is vanity ;" the insufficiency of all the labours, and pursuits, and earthly pleasures of men, to confer true happiness ; an insufficiency arising from the sinfulness of some of them, the illusory nature of others, and the precariousness and short-lived con- tinuance of all. This position he lays down at the out- set of his treatise ; twenty times he directly repeats it, and oftener still alludes to it, in the course of his de- tails; and when he has finished his proofs and illustra- tions, he formerly re-announces it in his peroration. This ought surely to be enough, to determine the text of a discourse. — But there is an object of the writer ulterior to the establishment of this position. It would not have been enough for him to expose the false sources of happiness, without directing to the true; — to break in pieces the cisterns that men have hewed out for themselves, without conducting to the " fountain of living water ;" to point out the folly of the answers which men have given to the question, *^ Who will show us good?" — and to give no satisfying reply to it himself His ultimate object, therefore, is not to make good the position, that "all is vanity," but rather, upon the establishment of this afiecting truth, to found the further position, that to " fear God and keep his commandments is the whole" duty, and honour, and happiness "of man." This is " the conclusion of the whole matter."— and can any conclusion be conceived, to which it could be more worthy of inspiration to con- duct the erring creatures of God ? VI PREFACE. I ENJOYED much pleasure in the study and expose tion of this interesting portion of the word of God ; and the pleasure has been renewed in preparing the dis- courses for the press. Whether they shall give satis- faction to others, remains now to be ascertained. Every author, of course, indulges a hope, that his work may not be altogether unacceptable. But in publishing, as in preaching, there ought to be a higher aim than to please. The great concern should be, to impress the lessons of Divine wisdom, and the necessity of their immmediate reduction to practice. If such impression be not produced,— if no practical result be effected, — it will litde avail the reader, that he has merely been gratified, nor ought it, surely, to satisfy the writer. *' Lo ! thou art unto them as a very lovely song, of one who hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an in- strument : for they hear thy words, but they will not do them." The Sermon subjoined to the second volume is one which, it may justly be thought, if published at all, ought to have been published immediately after the mournful event on occasion of which it was delivered. I had long given up all intention of its publication. But as it so happened, that the second of these volumes wanted a little to bring it to an equality with the first, it was suggested to me, that this discourse might form an appropriate sequel to the pathetic description, in the twelfth chapter, of the frailties of age, and the final close of life, — when " The dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it." — In these circumstances, I consented to its insertion, — not with- out hesitation ;— yet in the pleasing hope that, whilst it affords a gratification to filial affection, it may not be PREFACE. VU unprofitable, as a commendatory exemplification of the excellence of true religion, in youth and in age, in life and in death ; and thus an appropriate illustration of the great lesson with which the Book concludes. I COMMEND the work to the blessing of that God, the sacred lessons of whose word it is intended to illus- trate and recommend. R. W. Glasgow, ") Septemfjf-r 28tlh 1821. C LECTURE I. ECCLES. i. 1 11. 1 " The ivords of the Preacher, the son of David, king of Jerusalem^ 2 Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, -vanity of vanities ; all (is J o vanity. What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh 4 under the sun? C One J generation fiasseth away, and (another J 5 generation cometh~: but the earth abideth for ever. The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his {ilace where he 6 arose. The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north : it whirleth about continually : and the wind retumeth again 7 according to his circuits. .All the rivers run into the sea ; yet the sea (is J not full: unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither 8 they return again. All things (are) full of labour -, man cannot utter (it :J the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filed with hear- 9 ing. The thing that hath been, it (is that J which shall be; and that which is done, (is J that which shall be done : and (there is J no neny 10 (thing) under the sun. Is there (any) thing whereof it may be said. See, this (is J new ? it hath been already of old time, which was 11 before us. (There is) 7io remembrance of former C things ; ) neither shall there be (any J remembrance of (things) that are to come with (those J that shall come after. '^ A HE account given us, in the Old Testament history^ of the early character of Solomon, and of the com- mencement of his reign, is such as cannot fail to impart the purest delight to every pious and benevolent mind. In the following simple narrative, we know not whether to be most charmed with the self-diffidence and piety of the man, or with the disinterested patriotism of the prince: — *• In Gibeon the Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream by night : and God said. Ask what I shall give thee. And Solomon said, Thou hast showed unto thy servant David my father great mercy, according as he walked before thee in truth, and in righteousness, B 10 1.ECTURE I. and in uprightness of heart with thee ; and thou hast kept for him this great kindness, that thou hast given him a son to sit on his throne, as (it is) this day. And now, O Lord my God, thou hast made thy servant king instead of David my fiither ; and I (am but) a little child : I know not (how) to go out or come in. And thy servant (is) in the midst of thy people which thou hast chosen, a great people, that cannot be numbered nor counted for multitude. Give therefore thy servant an understanding heart to judge thy people, that I may discern between good and bad : for who is able to judge this thy so great a people ? And the speech pleased the Lord, that Solomon had asked this thing. And God said unto him. Because thou hast asked this thing, and hast not asked for thyself long life ; neither hast asked riches for thyself, nor hast asked the life of thine ene- mies ; but hast asked for thyself understanding to dis- cern judgment; behold, I have done according to thy words ; lo, I have given thee a wise and an understand- ing heart ; so that there was none like thee before thee, neither after thee shall any arise like unto thee. And I have also given thee that which thou hast not asked, both riches and honour : so that there shall not be any among the kings like unto thee all thy days. And if thou wilt walk in my ways, to keep my statutes and my commandments, as thy father David did walk, then I will lengthen thy days. And Solomon awoke ; and, behold, (it was) a dream : and he came to Jerusalem, and stood before the ark of the covenant of the Lord, and offered up burnt-offerings, and offered peace-offer- ings, and made a feast to all his servants." 1 Kings iii. 5—15. The same features of character are beautifully ex- emplified in the opening scenes of his reign, i^ehold ECCLES. I. 1 — '11. i% him, at the dedication of the Temple, assembling all Israel together; bringing up to its place the ark of the covenant of the Lord ; pouring out in public to Jehovah the thanksgivings of a grateful heart ; blessing the people in his name ; standing before the altar of God, spreading forth his hands towards heaven, and, with humble reverence, and holy fervour, and patri- otic affection, uttering aloud his prayers and interces- sions to the most High ; offering the sacriSces of dedi= cation ; renewing his benedictions to the vast assem- bly ; and, after fourteen days of sacred festivity, send- ing them away, — " blessing the king, and joyful and glad of heart for all the goodness which the Lord had done for David his servant, and for Israel his people."* In proportion, my brethren, as we are gratified and delighted by these accounts of the character of Solo- mon's youth, and of the auspicious beginning of his government, will our feelings of disappointment and grief be intense, when we contemplate his subsequent deviations from the ways of wisdom, and lamentable " departure from the living God." — " For it came to pass, when Solomon was old, (that) his wives turned away his heart after other gods : and his heart was not perfect with the Lord his God, as (was) the heart of David his father. For Solomon went after Ashtoreth the goddess of the JZidonians, and after Milcom the abomination of the Ammonites. And Solomon did evil in the sight of the Lord, and went not fully after the Lord, as (did) David his father. Then did Solomon build an high-place for Chemosh the abomination of Moab, in the hill that (is) before Jerusalem, and for Molech the abomination of the children of Ammono And likewise did he for all his strange wives, who * See 1 Kings, cbap. viij. i2 LECTURE I. burnt incense, and sacrificed unto their gods. And the Lord was angry with Solomon, because his heart was turned from the Lord God of Israel, who had appeared unto him twice ; and had commanded him concerning this thing, that he should not go after other gods ; but he kept not that which the Lord commanded." 1 Kings xi. 4—10. Alas! how fallen I—x^nd, judging from the history alone, we should have been left to conclude, — fallen fi- nally I — Much, however, is to be learned, by the com- parison of one part of Scripture with another. If, for example, (to give an instance analogous to the one be- fore us) — if wc had no other record of Manasseh's reign than that contained in the twenty-first chapter of the second book of Kings, we should have known nothing of him but his extraordinary wickedness, the idolatry, oppression, and sanguinary cruelty of his administra- tion ; — -we should have contemplated him, with the painful feelings of abhorrence and reprobation, dying as he had lived, sinking into the grave under a load of unrepented crime and unobliterated infamy. But when we compare the additional account given of him in the thirty-third chapter of the second Book of Chronicles, we see him brought back, by sanctified affliction, to the God whom he had so awfully forsaken and dishonoured, a subject of that '^ broken and contrite spirit which He does not despise," and an interesting and encouraging example of the freedom and riches of Divine grace. — The Book of Ecclesiastes presents us with a similar comfortable and cheering view of the latter days of the life of Solomon. We behold him here, after a tempo- rary apostasy from the Lord God of Israel, ^^ confessing, and forsaking, and finding mercy." We behold him, returning from the broken and empty cisterns of the ECCLES. I. 1—11. 13 world to the Fountain of living water ; recording, for the admonition of future ages, his own folly and shame, the bitterness of his disappointment, and the salutary kssons he had learned from the infatuated and impious experiment of seeking happiness in the vanities of the world without God. That the Book was the composition of Solomon, the title bears ; universal tradition affirms ; and internal evi- dence concurs to prove, — there being many things in it which will apply to no one else. — With the doubts which have at times been expressed, and the answers which have been given to them, I shall not at present trouble you. Some of them have arisen from certain passages in the Book itself, having appeared inconsistent with the dictates of the Spirit of God in other parts of the Sacred volume, and expressive of sentiments dan- gerous or at least ambiguous. The true interpretation of these passages will come to be considered in their re- spective places ; when their perfect harmony with the rest of the Bible, will, we trust, be satisfactorily shown, and their title sufficiently established to the character belonging to all that is ^' given by inspiration of God,'' —the character of being " profitable for instruction, for conviction, for reformation, and for education in righ^ teousness."* And, whilst external and internal evidences establish the genuineness of the treatise, as the production of the prince whose name it bears ; the same descriptions of proof assign its composition to a period of his life sub- sequent to his temporary apostasy from the service and the ways of God. — 'This is the testimony of Jewish tra- dition ; and, whilst every right feeling should induce us * 2 Tim. iii. 16, Tr^k ^tSko-KHXtiXv, veo; i>^*y^Vy ir^o; irravo^^uj'iv, Tr^i; TrxtSiinv tv; 14 LECTURE I. to wish the testimony true, there is enough in the book itself to vindicate our judgments from the imputation of credulity in believing it. — For, if it was written by Solomon at all, at what other time of his life could it be written ? Not before his apostasy : for then he had not been guilty of the madness and impiety described. Not during its continuance : for the language of the record is tliat of past time, and the spirit which it breathes is that of penitence for past misconduct. An apostate, persist- ing in his apostasy, could not possibly have been its author. It must have been written, therefore, after his return from his wanderings ; and the delight which the conviction of this inspires, rests on grounds that are not illusory. Verse 1st. " The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king of Jerusalem." EccLEsiASTEs, IS the Greek Title of the Book ; the title which it bears in the Septuagint. It signifies The Preacher. The Hebrew word for which it is used, means, one who assembles, or gathers the people toge- ther ; and the translations of it by the term EccleslasteSi shows that the Greek Translators understood the ob- ject of the assembling to be, the communication of pub- lic instruction. — That Solomon, in the early part of his reign, should have employed in this way, for the bene- fit of his people, the wisdom with which he had been so singularly endowed, is highly probable. It is worthy of his piety and his patriotism, and by no means inconsis- tent, unless on false ideas of honour, with his regal dig- nity.— When he himself went astray, his example could not fail to have a most extensively pernicious influence in " causing Israel to sin." And it is a highly pleasing reflection, that when he " came to himself," he should, with a similar publicity, have acknowledged the folly ECCLES. I. 1 11. 15 and the evil of his ways, and have done what lay in his power, by an open avowal of his " repentance towards God," to counteract the fatal tendency of the course he had been pursuing, and to stem the tide of impiety and profligacy, the floodgates of which he had so unhappily opened. He had been guilty of the two great evils, of " forsaking God the fountain of living waters," and of *• hewing out unto himself cisterns, broken cisterns that could hold no water;" and now he declares before all men, that he had found this to be " an evil thing and a bitter," and with a decision and earnestness, the pro- duct of woful experience, warns all against the misera- ble infatuation. Nor does he only publish his penitence at the time ; he imparts permanence to it by recording it in writing for the admonition of succeeding generations. His character as a preacher is drawn in the twelfth chapter, the ninth and tenth verses : — " Moreover, be- cause the Preacher was wise, he still taught the people knowledge ; yea, he gave good heed, and sought out, (and) set in order many proverbs. The Preacher sought to find out acceptable words: and (that which ||^as) written (was) upright, (even) words of truth." — Let us, then, attend with seriousness, and with earnest desire of Divine influence, to the words of this preacher, as *' words of uprightness and truth." He was the " son of David." — To him had been ad- dressed, by his pious and affectionate parent, the solemn charge, equally melting and alarming : " And thou, So- lomon my son, know thou the God of thy father, and serve him with a perfect heart, and with a willing mind ; for the Lord searcheth all hearts, and understandeth aii the imaginations of the thoughts : if thou seek him, he will be found of thee; but if thou forsake him, he will 46 LECTURE I. cast thee off for ever."* — It was in opposition to this paternal counsel that he had gone astray ; and possibly, the tender recollection of it, brought home to the heart by the events of providence, might be part of the means of " restoring his soul, and making him to walk again in the paths of righteousness."--" I was my father's son," says he elsewhere,! bearing testimony to the af- fectionate fidelity with which that father had fulfilled the paternal trust, — " I was my father's son, tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother. He taught me also, and said unto me. Let thy heart retain my words; keeps my commandments and live." — Frequently has it happened, (and the consideration of it should encou- rage godly parents in the discharge of their duty,) that the remembrance of early instructions has, after a course of departure from God, been the means of awa- kening the conscience, alarming the fears, and touching the sensibilities, of the unhappy wanderer, and turning his feet anew to "the way of God's testimonies." " The preacher" was also " king of Jerusalem." It was. the God of Israel who had chosen and exalted him to this dignity : but he had been guilty of forgetting and ill-requiting the Author of his greatness. — Possessed of many and invaluable spiritual advantages above the kings of the surrounding nations, he had yet " learned of their ways,'' honoured and served their gods, and admitted the abominations of their idolatry into alliance and incorporation with the worship of " the Holy One of Israel ;" thus violating the most sacred obligations to preserve that worship, by example and authority, free from intermingling corruptions ; and leading that peo- ple astray into error and sin, whom it was his official duty to encourage and to conduct in the ways of truth * 1 Cliron. xxviii. 9". t Prov. v>. 3,-4, ECCLES. I. 1 11. 17 and righteousness.— As *'king of Jerusalem,'' he was also placed in a situation, which brought within his reach " whatsoever his soul lusted after," and thus en- abled him, in the most favourable circumstances, and on the most extensive scale, (for •' what can the man do, that cometh after the king?") to try his infatuated ex- periments on human happiness;— experiments, of which the great general result is expressed, with comprehen- sive brevity, and deep-felt emphasis, in the second verse :— "Vanity of vanities, saith the PreacheEj VANITY OF vanities; ALL IS VANITY." This is the Text of the Preacher's Sermon;— -the leading proposition, which it is his object to illustrate and to establish, in the whole of the subsequent part of this book ; of which he never loses sight ; which meets us, in the way of direct allusion, at every step and turn of the progress of his argument ; and to which, when he has finished his details, he reverts, in the very same terms, in his peroration. * To enter into any detached and general illustration of this verse, would, therefore, be, to anticipate the con- tents of the Book. — The following remarks may be worthy of attention : — In the first plcLce : It is to be considered as the affect^ ing result of Solomon's own experience.— He had en- tered into the spirit of the universal inquiry, *' who will show us any good ?"t and had made trial of the various sources of worldly happiness. He had repaired in per- son to the different springs, determined to take nothing upon the reported experience of others, but to taste the waters for himself. He had drunk freely of them all : and in this treatise, he describes their respective pro- * Clisp. \\\. 8. t Psa^- '^'- 6- 18 LECTURE I. perties and virtues. — The Book might, therefore, with sufficient appropriateness, be entitled ^*Tiie Experi- ence OF Solomon." Secondly. We are not to understand it as the lan- guage of a mind soured and fretted by disappointment ; the verdict of a morose and discontented cynic, the in- cessant frustration of whose hopes and desires had made him renounce the world in disgust, while his heart was yet unchanged, and continued secretly to hanker after the same enjoyments ; or of a wasted sensualist, who, having run his career of pleasure, felt himself incapable of any longer actually enjoying what still, however en- grossed his peevish and unavailing wishes: — but v/e are to regard it as the conclusion come to by one who had felt the bitterness of a course of sin, and the empti- ness of this world's joys, and, having been reclaimed from " the error of his way," having renounced and wept over his follies, was more than ever satisfied that " the fear of the Lord is wisdom," and that " the ways of wisdom are the only ways of pleasantness, and her paths alone the paths of peace." Thirdly. Neither must we conceive him to affirm, in these words, that there is no good whatever, no kind of enjoyment, no degree of happiness, to be derived from the things of the world, when they are kept in their own place, estimated on right principles, and used in a proper manner Sentiments widely different from any thing so ascetic and enthusiastic as this, will repeatedly come in our way in the course of the Book — The words before us are to be interpreted of every thing in this world when pursued as the portion of him who seeks it, — when considered as constituting the happiness of a rational, immortal, and accountable being. His ■verdict is, that to such a creature they can yield, by ECCLES. I. 1—11. 19 themselves, no genuine and worthy satisfaction ; and that, whilst they are, in their own nature, unsatisfying, even in this world, they are worse, infinitely worse than profitless, for the world to come. On this ground it is, that he pronounces them vanitt/.—he had weighed them all in the balances, and had found them wanting. Fourthly. The peculiar emphasis may be remarked with which this verdict is expressed. — He does not merely say, all things are vain :—h\\X. " all is vanity ;"' —vanity itself, and vanity of vanities ; that is, the greatest vanity, — sheer, perfect vanity — And he dou- bles the emphatic asseveration, " Vanity of vanities ; vanity of vanities ; all is vanity." — This shows, first, the strength of the impression on his own m,ind. It is not the language of a judgment hesitating between two opinions, or of a heart lingering between opposite de- sires; but of a mind thoroughly made up, of a heart loathing itself for having ever for a moment yielded to a different sentiment, of decided conviction, of powerful experimental feeling.— It shows, secondly, the earnest- ness of his desire, to produce a similar impression on the minds of others. It was a lesson which he himself had learned by the bitterest experience ; and he is anx- ious to prevent others from learning it in the same way. He wishes them to take his word for it ; not to venture after him in a repetition of the sad experiments on which his conclusion was founded ; but to enter di- rectly on another course ; to seek immediately and earnestly a better portion,— even the " peace" of them that *' love God's law,"— the '' life" that lies in the " Divine favour,"— the joys and the hopes of true religion. That is justly denominated " vanity," v^hich yields no substantial profit. It is in this connection that he adds, m 21) LECTURE I. Verse 3d. " What profit hath a man oi' ail his labour which he taketh under the sun ?" By " labour" he means, not only the labour of the hands, but also the labour of the brain ; for of both we rihall find him frequently speaking in the sequel. — " What profit hath a man of all his labour V Much, it may be answered : much present profit ; great and ma- nifold benefits, in the estimation of the world, may be the result of human labour. Learning, riches, power, honour, and all the means of sensual and intellectual gratification, may be acquired by labour. But these things, when viewed apart from God as the chief good, (the light in which we observed it is Solomon's inten- tion to place them,) are all comprehended in the verdict already pronounced, " V^anity of vanities ; all is vani- ty."— The gratification which these things impart is mingled with many disappointments, disquietudes, and mortifications. The pleasures which they yield have a large alloy of pains. They cannot, by themselves, even when enjoyed lawfully, constitute the happiness of such a creature as man. They are neither commensurate in their duration with his immortal existence; nor are they thoroughly satisfying even while they last, — The chief point and emphasis of the question will be felt, if we consider a man as having completed his labour un- der the sun ; having arrived at the close of his toils. Suppose him, whatever may have been the description and the sphere of his diligence, to have succeeded to his heart's desire ; to have surmounted every difficulty, and attained every object of his pursuit : — the question is, ivhat profit remains to him -when he has done ? What has he then^ as the proceeds of his industry ? And alas I the question, in this view, admits of but one answer :— •* When he dieth, he shall carry nothing away."* This * Psal., slut. \7^ ECCLES. I. 1 11. St must be the reply as to the man of ambition, the man cf wealth, the man of rank, the man of pleasure. Intellec- tual acquisitions form the only seeming exception: and the exception is no more than apparent. Even the man of learning, the philosopher, the wise man of this world, who has devoted his life to study, and has gone round, with a master's step, the circle of the sciences; — when he, as well as the others, is viewed as having terminated his labours, — as an immortal and accountable creature, closing his earthly career, and appearing before God, unprepared for judgment and eternity, unpardoned, un- sanctified, and unfurnished for heaven ;— O what can we say, even of his acquirements, with all their ad- mitted superiority to the pleasures of sense, and to the pursuits of povv'er and of opulence, but " Vanity of va nities; vanity of vanities ; all is vanity?" — The simple fact stated in the following verse confirms the general sentence of " vanity" pronounced on all that pertains to time : *' One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh." " What is our life ? It is a va pour, which appeareth for a little, and then vanisheth away." "Our days on earth (are) as a shadow, and (there is) no abiding."— Turn your thoughts to the generation that is already gone ; whose connection with the world and with time has already closed ; whose bodies fill the narrow house, and whose " spirits have returned to God who gave them :"-— what profit have they now, of all their labour which they took under the sun ? Oh ! with what a bitter emphasis of utterance would those who lived and died strangers to the bless- ings of religion and the love of God ; trying to do with- out him ; seeking their happiness in the creature ; "hewing out their broken cisterns;" " fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind;"— with what a ^25 LECTURE I. bitter emphasis of utterance, could their voice be heard frofti beyAid tlie impassable gulph, would they certify to us the truth of the verdict, — " all is vanity !" It is always of essential consequence, in interpret- ing any writer, to ascertain his general design in the passage under review ; the point which it is his object to establish or to illustrate. And in the book on which we are now entering, we shall find much occasion for the application of this remark. In the remainder of the verses which I have read, that is, from the fourth to the eleventh inclusive, there seems to be one general idea placed in various points of light. It is, in substance, the sentiment expressed in the end of verse 9th, that " (there is) no new (thing) under the sun." It is the idea oi perpetual change^ yet constant sameness ; — of stable and unaltering unifor- mity, in the midst of incessant variety and fluctuation. This appears to be the point, or hidden sense, of the difierent figures contained in the fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh verses. Verse 4th. " (One) generation passeth away, and (another) generation cometh ; but the earth abideth for ever:" — more tersely in the original, "Generation goeth, and generation cometh ; but the earth abideth for ever." This can hardly indeed be called a figure. It is rather a simple statement of fact. It affords, however, a striking illustration of the general sentiment. — The coming and going of successive generations, presents a scene of endless variety ; yet it is itself fixed and un- varying ; — the unalterable destiny of man. There is nothing that impresses more afifectingly on the mind the '^ vanity" of human life, than the perpetual change of tenants that is taking place in this world of ours ; ECCLES. I. 11. £3 —a change which goes on without interruption; — the scene presenting the same general aspects, whilst the actors in it are ever shifting; — the house remain- ing the same, but the lodgers continually varying. — = *' The Earth remainethyc>ret;fr ;" — that is, throughout these successive generations of men ; — presenting to the eye the same appearances, performing the same daily and yearly revolutions, exhibiting the same alter- nations of " seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night,"* going on, from generation to generation, in its old original courses, whilst every thirty years it receives a race of new inhabitants ; — and that, not by a periodical sweep- ing away, and a periodical creation, but on the princi- ple of an average, calculated from numbers at every period of life, at every individual moment perhaps of *• the three-score years and ten ;" — by which arrange- ment, the variety, whilst it is the more incessant, is yet, the less perceptible, and the uniformity, though in re- ality not so constant, presents still more of the appear- ance of unchanging sameness. — The perpetual stability of the earth is nothing, alas ! to man. Each individual can only occupy it his short appointed time, and must then give place to a successor : and in the breasts of the " men of the world, 'who have their portion in this life," the truth expressed in this verse can engender no feelings but those of indignant fretfulncss and morti- fication. The permanence of the earth is but a tanta- lizing assurance to the man, who has it not in his power, however eagerly he may desire it, to continue on it as a permanent resident. Happy they, who " con- fess themselves strangers and pilgrims on earth, and desire a better country, even a heavenly :" who are * Gen. viii. 22, 24 . LECTURE I. heirs of '"' an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away." Verse 5th. " The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place whence he arose.'- The Sun ascends in the morning from the East ; runs his diurnal course across the heavens ; sets, and disappears ; comes round again to the point of rising ; renews the day, and repeats the same career :— light and darkness ever alternating ; — each successive day resembling that which preceded it : — perpetual same- ness, yet incessant change. The same general idea is still presented, under other figures, in the sixth and seventh verses : — " The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north ; it whirleth about continually ; and the wind returneth again according to its circuits, "^fl the rivers run into the sea ; yet the sea (is) not full : unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they re- turn again." What so mutable as the wind? It is the very pro^ verb of fickleness, and instability ; — " whirling about continually." — Yet, though constantly varying, it pre sents no new appearances. There is no point of the compass from which we can say it now blows for the first time. Ten thousand times has it blown, and in every conceivable degree of strength, from North. South, East, and West, and all the intermediate points. • — Thus, whilst it is ever varying, it is always the same. There is nothing new in its incessant and capriciou;^ shiftings : ^' it returneth again according to its cir- cuits." " All the rivers run into the sea ; yet the sea (Is) not full :" — it does not overflow, swelling above its everlasting boundaries^ notwithstanding this constant ECCLES. I. 1—11. S5 and copious influx of waters. The sea gives back its waters to the earth. By one of Nature's beautiful pro- visions, it is continually, by means of the solar influ- ence, sending up insensibly into the atmosphere, sup- plies of vapoury moisture, which descend again in si- lent dews, or, condensing into clouds, come down in rains and snows, watering the ground, that would otherwise become arid and unproductive, and feeding the springs, and streams, and rivers, which return again to the sea, from which they were derived. — Thus there is here too perpetual change, yet perpetual uni- formity ; — the same regular rotation of mutual supply ; — the rivers maintained from the sea, and the sea kept full by the rivers. — In this figure too, it might perhaps be Solomon's intention to insinuate an additional thought ; namely, the unsatisfactory nature of the sources of worldly happiness : — " the sea (is) not full." At any rate, this is the thought of the following verse, where it is strongly and beautifully brought out : — Verse 8th. *' All things (are) full of labour ; man cannot utter (it) : the eye is not satisfied with seeing, neither is the ear filled with hearing." Wherever you turn your eyes, in the society espe;. cially of civilized men, '^ all is full of labour." The departments and the modes of human exertion, — all for the attainment of some real or fancied good, — are endless in number, and inconceivably diversified. Yety amidst them all, and amidst all their productions and results, " the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing."—" The sea is not full. "—Still there is something or other awanting ; and this is made apparent by '* all things continuing full of labour;"— without cessation, without conclusion : — men toiling after the attainment of something that is to make them D ;^6 liECTUllE I. happy, and, when they have succeeded, toiling stilL They seek ; they find :— yet still they want, and still they labour :— still " With thirst insatiate crave for more." The eye and the ear, as being the chief senses, are here put for all the desires of man, and all the organs by which they are respectively gratified. The general truth expressed is, that men, with all their endless labours after happiness, are still unsatisfied :--a truth, alas ! not peculiar to the country or the age of Solomon, but confirmed by the experience of every place, and of every generation. The uniformity of appearances and events, amidst the constant succession of mankind, is expressed in very bold and vivid terms in the following verses : 9—11. " The thing which hath been, it (is that) which shall be; and that which is done, (is) that which shall be done : and (there is) no new (thing) under the sun. Is there (any) thing whereof it may be said, See, this (is) new ? it hath been already of old time that was before us. (There is) no remembrance of former (things) : neither shall there be (any) remembrance of things to come with (those) that shall be after." It is very obvious, that this language must be inter- preted generally. It cannot be understood as affirming, without qualification or exception, that amongst all the endlessly diversified modifications of things, and of events,-r.all the discoveries and inventions of science and of art, and all the changes in the history of human life, there is absolutely nothing new ;_nothing that hath not been already of old time. But there is a vast deal of what passes for new, that is really old. Every man must be sensible, that even his own extending m^ ECCLES. I. 1 11, S7 formation has very often, in this respect, corrected his earlier views ; and that many things which, in his igno- rance, he had fancied to be new, his growing acquaint^ ance with the knowledge of former times has shown, him to possess claims even to high antiquity. Now that which takes place in the experience of individuals, may also hold true with regard to the successive gene- rations of mankind. Our ignorance of former times is, accordingly, appealed to, in Verse 11th. *^ There is no remembrance of former things ; neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall be after." —How extremely limited and uncertain is our acquaint- ance with the ages of the world preceding our own ! — The constitution and phenomena of nature have been all along the same ; the powers and passions of men, and the genera, and species, and varieties of charac- ter, arising from their diversified combinations, have been much the same ; their wants and desires, together with the means existing in air, earth, and sea, for their supply and gratification, have been the same :— and it seems natural to expect, that similar circumstances should give birth to similar results.— There are, ac- cordingly, many remarkable vestiges, not of the exis- tence merely, but of the high cultivation, of various arts and sciences, which at first view might appear modern, in nations and periods of remote antiquity; so that, in such cases, the men of recent days have only the credit of reviving what had been forgotten. And so strong, indeed, on some minds, is the impression produced, by ancient remains, in favour of ancient times, that they have looked upon the present race as mere children and pigmies in knowledge and in the power of applying it to practical use, compared with 38 LECTURE I. their brethren of an earlier age. There is nothmg, of wliich, in these circumstances, we can, with certainty^ affirm, " This is new." It is probable, that Solomon's acquaintance with science might appear to many of his contemporaries to include in it much that was novel and original ; whilst his own superior knowledge of the acquirements of different nations and of preceding times might enable him to ascertain the contrary. There are, in particular (for this is the main subject of the book) no new sources of worldly happiness. "Who will show us any good?" has been the eager enquiry of the men of this world from the beginning !— and through successive ages, the answers to the en- quiry, although modified by circumstances in ten thousand different ways, have, in the leading princi- ples of them, be^n the same. The multitude of man- kind have all along been " forsaking the fountain of living waters ;" and the "cisterns," which they have '* hewed out for themselves," have been very much of the same descriptions ; diversified, it may be, in their exterior forms and decorations, bearing the distinctive shapes and symbols of their respective ages and coun- tries; but all, without exception, alike the modern and the antique, *' broken cisterns, that can hold no water." These verses present before us, in the first place, a most impressive and satisfactory testimony in favour of true religion, as the only source of real and perma- nent happiness. — They are best qualified to pronounce on the vanity and emptiness of the world, who have themselves tried it in all its forms and modes of enjoy- ment. Solomon made the experiment, and'hc " found it wantihg." When, through Divine mercy, he " came to himself," he renounced the world, as " vanity and a ECCLES. I. 1 11. S9 thing of nought." With penitential shame and sorrow, he returned to God, from whom he had so miserably revolted,— even to " the fountain of living waters,"— and found in Him an all- satisfying portion , peace and rest, and " fulness of joy,"— and, in '* the keeping of his commandments, a great reward"— And such has been the experience, the feelingly recorded experience, of many a one besides the Royal preacher. The in- sufficiency and vanity, indeed, of earthly things, as the portion of an intellectual, moral, and immortal being, ought to be held as a self-evident truth, unsusceptible of controversy, and requiring no proof.— Yet, alas ! what cause have we to remark In the second place, What an affecting' evidence it is, of the infatuation and depravity of mankind, that neither the plainness of the truth, nor the uniformity of the experience of successive generations, produces any alteration whatever on their general conduct — Men who have made trial of the world, and have after- wards turned from it unto God, have attested, from their personal experience, its universal vanity, and at the same time, the substantial and satisfactory excel- lence of the blessings they have chosen in its stead ; — and many a time from others have the fearful soiem- nities of a death-bed, and a near view of eternity, drawn forth the reluctant confession of the same truth ; a truth unheeded in the midst of life, and business, and prosperity, but brought home to the mind v/ith dre%cL ful certainty, when death has placed the sinner on the verge of the world to come. Yet, in despite of all this, men continue to pursue the same course. Thev per- sist in following the world with all avidity, under one or other of its various forms of falsely-promis'ed enjoy- ment ; just as if no testimony of its vanity existed, in c?U LECTURE I, llie experience of others, in the concurring verdict of their own consciences, in the word, or in the provi- dence, of God. — '^ They that trust in their wealth, and boast themselves of the multitude of their riches ; none (of them) can by any means redeem his brother, or pay to God a ransom for him ; (for the redemption of their soul (is) precious, and it ceaseth for ever) that lie should still live for ever, (and) not see corruption. For he seeth (that) wise men die, likewise the fool and the brutish person perish, and leave their wealth to others. Their inward thought (is, that) their houses (shall continue) for ever, (and) their dwelling-places to ail generations : they call (their) lands after their own names. Nevertheless, man, (being) in honour, abideth not; he is like the beasts (that) perish. This their WAY (is) their folly : YET THEIR POSTERITY APPROVE THEIR SAYINGS."* — " O that mcu wcrc vvise ; (that) they understood these things ; that they would consider their latter end !" — Remember, ye in- fatuated votaries of the world, the solemn hour is fast approaching, when you must have done with time, and all its passing concerns. That hour will infallibly awaken you, if you are not happily awakened earlier, to an appalling conviction of the truth which has now, and so often, been urged upon your timely considera- tion. The special hand of Death will then write, in dark but too legible characters, on every thing from^ which you have been seeking your happiness, '* Vanity 'of vanities; vanity of vanities; all is vanity." — O then, be wise in time. You are in quest of what never has been and never can be found from the sources to which you are repairing for it. The search for happiness amongst ** the things of this world," has * Tsal. xlix. 6—13. ECCLES. I. 1 11. 31 been, shall be, must be, a fruitless labour. It is the toil " Of dropping buckets into empty wells, " And growing old in drawing nothing up." To you is the divine invitation addressed, and to all who are feeling the thirst of nature for satisfactory en- joyment : — *^ Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters ; and he that hath no money : come ye, buy and eat ; yea come, buy wine and milk, without money and without price. Wherefore do ye spend money for (that which) is not bread ? and your labour for (that which) satisfieth not ? Hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye (that which) is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness- Incline your ear, and come unto me : hear, and your soul shall live."* — This expostu- lation, addressed to you by the God of heaven, in infi- nite condescension and kindness, is recommended to your attention and obedience by the impressive appeal of the Saviour of sinful men : — " For, what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul ? For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father, with his angels ; and then shall he reward every man according to his works, "f—** What profit" shall a man then have, " of all his labour which he hath taken under the sun ?"_The favour of God ; — the love of Christ ;_the blessing of Heaven, mingling with all the good and evil of life, enhancing the one, and sweetening and sanctifying the other ; the " ex- ceeding great and precious promises," " of the life that now is, and of that which is to come," — the faith of which inspires " the peace which passeth all under- standing ;"— the spiritual joy of " fellowship with th^ =* Isaiah Iv, 1-^3. f Matt. xvi. 26, ?r S2 LECTURE I. ECCLES. I. 1. 11. Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ," and with the children of God, the excellent of the earth ;— and the blessed hope of eternal life, — of glory and honour, and immortalit}^ ; — these are sources of felicity, worthy of your rational and immortal natures,— pure and dignified, substantial and everlasting. — Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ ; come to God in his name ; accept the mercy offered, through his mediation, in the gospel ; and all these blessings, in time and eternity, shall be yours. " O taste and see that the Lord is good!"—" Doth not Wisdom cry ? and Understanding put forth her voice ? She standeth in the top of high places, by the way, in the places of the paths ; she crieth at the gates, at the entry of the city, at the coming in at the doors : unto you, O men, I call, and my voice is to the sons of men. O ye simple, understand wisdom ; and ye fools, be ye of an understanding heart. Heaf ; for I will speak of excellent things, and the opening of my lips (shall be) right things. — Receive my instruction, and not silver, and knowledge rather than choice gold. — I love them that love me ; and they that seek me early shall find we. Riches and honour (are) with me ; (yea) durable riches and righteousness. My fruit (is) better than gold, yea, than fine gold ; and my revenue than choice silver. I lead in the way of righteousness, in the midst of the paths of judgment : that I may cause them that love me to inherit substance : and I will fill their treasures."* * Prov. viii. 1—6, 10, 17—2!. LFXTURE II. EcCLES. I. Ig — 18. 12, 13 " I the Preacher was King over Israel in Jerusalem'; And I gave mij heart to seek and search out by ivisdom concerning all (things) that are done under heaven : this sore travail hath God given to the 14 sons of man, to be exercised therenvith. I have seen all the nvorks that are done under the sun; and behold, all (is J vanity andvexa- 15 tion of spirit. fThat which is J crooked cannot be made straight ; 16 and that which is wanting cannot be numbered. I communed with- mine own heart, saying Lo, lam come to great estate, and have gotten more wisdom than all (they J that have been before me in Jerusalem; yea, my heart had great experience of wisdom, and 17 knowledge. And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to knots) madness and folly : I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit. 18 For in much wisdom (is J much grief; and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.''' iN pursuing his inquiries and experiments, for ascer- taining the chief good, the writer of this Book pos- sessed, as was formerly noticed, peculiar advantages ; the situation which he occupied affording him the full- est opportunities of investigating and bringing to the test ail the various sources of worldly enjoyment. When we are about to follow him in the detail of his experience, we should keep the recollection steadily before us, that he is speaking of that period of his life which he denominates " the days of his vanity;" — when he had forsaken God, and instead of saying, with his godly father, *' Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us!" — joined in the common cry of the world, " Who will shew us any good ?" From the twelfth to the fifteenth verse, inclusive, appears to be of a general nature, expressing, in terms E 34 t,ECTUiiE ir. of unrestricted import, the object of his inquiry, the extensive field of his observation, and the impression left upon his mind as the result of his survey ; in which he had availed himself to the full of all the facilities and means of discovery, which were furnished by his royal authority and resources, as *' king over Israel m Je- rusalem." " I gave my heart," — that is, I applied myself with zeal and diligence, — '' to seek and search out by wis- dom,"—in the close and prudent and vigorous exercise of his mental powers,—" concerning all (things) that are done under the sun." — This is generally under- stood of his scientific researches into the works of nature and of art. I should rather interpret it of his inquiry into all the endless variety of human occupa- tions and pursuits ; because such seems to be the mean- ing appropriated in this Book ro the phrase, " all things that are done under the heaven," or " under the sun." He applied himself to the examination of the sciences and arts, the professions and labours, which occupy the time, the industry, and the investigations of man- kind. The words in the end of verse 13th. " This sore tra- vail hath God given to the sons of men, to be exer- cised therewith," — are usually considered as expressive of the irksomeness, and difiiculty, attending the acqui- sition of that knowledge of which Solomon is conceived to speak ;— God having so ordered it, that unusually extensive acquirements must be the result of severe application to study, accompanied, in its course of dis- covery, with many obstacles and perplexities, much disappointment and mortification, and a great variety of painful and harrassing feelings. — I am disposed, however, to understand the words, as simply explana- ECCLES. I. 12 18. Sri tory, or exegetical, of what immediately precedes : " I gave my heart to seek and search out by wisdom, con- cerning all things that are done under heaven ; (even) that sore travail (which) God hath given to the sons of men, to be exercised therewith." — That which is '* given to the sons of men, to be exercised therewith." must surely be something more general than the in- vestigation to which Solomon had applied his heart ; for which there were then, and still are, very few who have either the ability or the leisure.— There is proba- bly, in the words, a reference to what he had said a litde before, " All things (are) full of labour :" — and the true origin of this, as the appointed condition of humanity, is to be found in the remote but divinely authenticated records of the entrance of sin into the world: — *' Unto Adam He said, Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it ; — cursed (is) the ground for thy sake ; in sorrow shalt thou eat (of) it all the days of thy life : thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee ; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field :— in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground ; for out of it wast thou taken : for dust thou (art,) and unto dust shalt thou return."* This view of the meaning of the words is confirmed by the parallel expression in chap. iii. 10. where the connection leaves no ambiguity ; " I have seen the travail which God hath given to the sons of men, to be exercised therewith ;" — and it agrees well with what immediately follows here, in Verse 14. " I have seen all the works that are done under the sun ; and behold, all {is) vanity, and vexa- tion of spirit." * Gsn. iii, 17—19. 36 LECTURE 11. Solomon had seen all the labours of men in quest of happiness ; and he had already, in the opening of his treatise, pronounced all to be " vanity," yea, " vanity of vanities." To this he here adds, *' vexation of spirit." Some, indeed, from a different etymology of the original word for vexation, translate this phrase, *^ feed- ing on wind ;"— and the sense thus given is good, and appropriate. But when we say, " all is vanity, and feed- ing on wind," we have only one idea presented to the mind, namely, that of unsatisfactory emptiness. ^' Feed- ing on wind," being a strong figure, makes an addi- tion to the force or emphasis of the preceding expres- sion, but no addition, or very little at least, to its mean- ing. Our translation, on the contrary, whilst it is founded on a preferable etymology, affords, at the same time, an additional idea, and is, besides, evidently more consistent with the different connections in which the phrase .occurs in this Book. Thus, for instance, in the 17th and 18th verses of this chapter : '^' I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness* and folly ; I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit : for in much wisdom (is) much grief; and he that in- creaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow :" — and in chap. ii. 17. ^' therefore I hated life ; because the work that is wrought under the sun (is) grievous to me ; for all (is) vanity, and vexation of spirit;" and verse 22. *' For what hath man of all his labour, and of the vexation of his heart," (a word in the original of the same derivation,) '* wherein he hath laboured under the sun?" The labours of which Solomon here speaks must be viewed apart from religion. Religion opens such sources of peace and joy, as serve to compose, and soothe, and satisfy the spirit, amidst all the cares, and crosses, and ECCLES. I. i2 — 18. 37 disappointments of life. But apart from its supporting and cheering influence, the toils of men in pursuit of happiness, their eager efforts towards a practical answer to the question, " Who will shou' us any good ?" are assuredly vexation, as well as vanity ; hurrassing the mind with corroding anxieties ; fretting and souring it by repeating disappointments ; elevating it at times to precarious joy, — precarious, and therefore unsatisiac- tory; andmorefrequently overclouding it withdejcction and gloom. One great cause why all is pronounced vexation as well as vanity, is stated in verse 15. " (That which is) crooked cannot be made straight, and that which is wanting cannot be numbered." I shall not trouble you with the different interpreta tions which have been given of these words, but sim- ply lay before you what seems to myself, from its agreement with the connection, and with the scope of the passage, to be their true meaning. " (That which is) crooked cannot be made straight." — We have a key to the import of this expression, in chap. vii. 13. '^ Consider the work of God ; for who can make (that) straight which he hath made crooked?" This cannot refer to the natural perverseness of man- kind, to the crookedness of their dispositions, their want of original rectitude : because it cannot with truth be said, that God hath made our nature crooked or per^ verse. On the contrary, in the close of the same chap ter it is affirmed, ^' God made man upright ; but they have sought out many inventions." So neither, in the Vv'ords before us, is there any reference to the nature of man ; but to the dispensations and arrangements of Divine Providence. It is as if the wise man had said : '^*' There is generally; in the lot of everv man. some. 88 i^ECTURE II. thing crooked ;— something or other not to his mind ; which he wishes, and tries, and labours, to make straight, — to bend to his liking. But providence or- ders it otherwise. His attempts are all counteracted and frustrated. It is be) ond his power, with all the pains he can bestow, to correct the evil. And by this one circumstance, the spirit of the man who seeks his happiness in the things of time, and is destitute of the satisfying portion of God's children, is galled and irri- tated. So that, although every thing else is as he would have it,-— all straight and to his mind ;— yet, whilst this one thing is crooked, he is dissatisfied and unhappy.. Indeed, the more entirely every thing else is right, the more bitterly is his pride mortified, and his spirit provoked, that this should continue wrong, and baffle his endeavours to change and to rectify it. He kicks against the appointment of heaven, and *' disquiets himself in vain." Haman went out from the Royal presence, ^' joyful and with a glad heart," elated by the honours bestowed upon him. But the special favour of majesty, " the glory of his riches, the multitude of his children, and his advancement above the princes and servants of the king," — the enjoyment of the present, and the antici- pation of the future ; — all '^ availed him nothing, so long as he saw Mordecai the Jew sitting in the king's gate."* Nor are such cases by any means of rare oc- currence. Numberless are the instances of this kind of unreasonable dissatisfaction ; arising from something crooked which cannot be made straight ; from some " dead fly" that mars the fragrance of the ointment : — so that the name of Mordecai has become a kind of proverbial designation for all those little circumstances, * Esther V, 9-»13. ECCLES. I. 12 — 18. 39 which, existing singly in the lot of individuals, and preying on their disappointed spirits, serve to take the relish out of abounding sweets ;— and it has become the familiar saying of common life, that everi/ mari has his Mordecai. *■' And that which is wanting cannot be numbered." — This is generally understood, I believe, as meaning, that the wants which men experience in their pursuit of happiness,— the felt deficiencies, discovered in every step of their progress, are so many, and so diversified, that they cannot be reckoned up. — I rather think that the words contain a repetition, in different terms, of the same idea that is expressed in the former part of the verse. — A man of the world is here set before us, casting up his accounts ;— taking an inventory of the various items that make up the aggregate of his enjoy- ment. The sum of them, it may be, is very large. But there is some particular article, on which he has set his heart, and which he would fain have it in his power to put into his list* But his wishes are vain. It is not in his possession ;— it is not within his reach. It is *' wanting," and therefore '^ cannot be numbered." Yet without it, the account is deficient ; and the de- ficiency gives him more uneasiness and dissatisfaction, than the entire sum of his blessings gives him enjoy- ment. It mixes all with discontent, and thus poisons the whole ; so that all his labour becomes not only " vanity," but ^'vexation of spirit." — Thus, amidst all the possessions and all the splendours of royalty, the spirit of Ahab was dejected and unhappy,— and ^' he turned away his face, and would eat no bread," be- cause he could not have " the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite," that he might add to his pleasure-grounds " a garden of herbs."* * 1 Kings, sxi. l—S, 40 LECTURE lie Alas ! for human nature, that it jihould be so ! But sovve see it, and feel it to be ; that we are inuch more prone to be displeased on account of particular evils, than to be satisfied with abundant and diversified good , —to indulge in discontent because of some one solitary defect, than to cherish gratitude for unnumbered and substantial blessings.— This is a crook in the nature of our fallen race, which nothing can efiectually make straight but the renewing energy of the grace of God. The first trial which Solomon represents himself as having made, in his course of experiments on human happiness, is that of wisdom : — verses 16 — 18. " I communed with mine own heart, saying, Lo I am come to great estate, and have gotten more wisdom than all that have been before me in Jerusalem ; yea, my heart had great experience of wisdom and knowledge. And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly : I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit. For in much wisdom (is) much grief; and he that in- creaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." By the wisdom here spoken of we may understand, all that knowledge, in the various departments of which men are accustomed to seek gratification and enjoy- ment : — the knowledge of mankind, from present ob- servation, and the records of history ; of the arts and sciences ; of the productions and phenomena of the na> tural world, in its different kingdoms ; and, if you will, of the philosophy of mind and of morals, considered as a branch of speculative and abstract investigation. God had imparted to Solomon a penetrating and ca- pacious mind, in the exercise of whose powers he ac- quired that distinguished superiority in wisdom and knowledge, which made him the admiration, not of his own people only, but of surrounding countries, in the ECCLES. I. 12 — 18. 41 age in which he lived. " God gave Solomon, '' says the Scripture record, " wisdom and understanding exceed- ing much, and largeness of heart, even as the sand that (is) on the sea-shore. And Solomon's wisdom excelled the wisdom of all the children of the east epuntry, and all the wisdom of Egypt. For he was wiser than all men ; than Ethan the Ezrahite, and Heman, and Chal- col, and Darda, the sons of Mahol : and his fa'me was in all nations round about. And he spake three thou- sand proverbs ; and his songs were a thousand and five. And he spake of trees, from the cedar-tree that (is) in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall : he spake also of beasts, and of fowl, and of creep- ing things, and of fishes. And there came of all people to hear the wisdom of Solomon, from all kings of the earth who had heard of his wisdom."* Had Solomon continued, as he did at first, to use his mighty intellect in subserviency to the glory of the Author of his being, and of all his powers, and in hum- ble dependence for true happiness on Him, without Vv'hom all the treasures of wisdom are poverty, and all its light darkness ; — it had been %vcll. But far otherwise did he act, in '* the days of his vanity." He foolishly- expected to find the desired felicity in knowledge it- self, without being conducted by that knowledge to God, " the Father of lights, from whom cgmeth down every good and perfect gift.*' He drank greedily of the streams of science, without tracing them to their foun- tain. He expatiated among the works of God, and for» got God himself. When he says, '' My heart had great experience of wisdom and knowledge," we may understand by the heart either., according to a frequent use of the word in * I King's iv. 29—34. F 4:^ LECTURE 11. Scripture, the mind in general, trying and comparing the different descriptions of knowledge ; or, more re- strictedly, the seat of enjoyment, proving, by experi- ment, the tendencies of each in reference to human hap- piness. — His " experience" in this way was " great ;" — greater than that of any other man; for he was *' wiser than all men." He " gave his heart to know wisdom and to know madness and folly :" — that is, either, in the first place, to obtain a thorough discernment of the amount of dif- ference between truth and error, and between virtue and vice, propriety and absurdity, in human conduct ; — to know both sides, as subjects of philosophical in- quiry and speculation ; as things are in general most completely understood, and most powerfully impressed on the mind, by means of contrast : or, secondly, to compare the claims to preference, arising from their in- fluence respectively on present enjoyment, of a studious and contemplative life on the one hand, and a life of madness and folly on the other ; of a life devoted to learning, in the various branches of earthly science and worldly wisdom,-- and a life of thoughtless, inconside- rate merriment, careless indulgence, and extravagant riot and dissipation. For as in our own days this latter course of life has its advocates as well as the former, so had it, we may presume, in the days of Solomon ; men who admitted it readily enough to be madness and folly, but who gloried in the very folly and madness of it, laughed at the bookish recluse, as at any rate a greater fool than themselves, moping away life in solitary re- search and rueful meditation ; and were determined to throw their tares to the winds, to drink down melan- choly, to give the reins to their appetites, and take their full swing of frolic, and carousal, and profligacy. ECCLES. I. 12 18. 43 To compare these and other pretending sources of happiness, and to estimate their respective claims, was a part of his study. — But mark now especially what he says of his pursuit of wisdom : " I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit : for in much wisdom is much grief; and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." This seems a very strange assertion. There cannot be a doubt, that, among all the sources from which men seek their happiness, the pursuit of knowledge, (under- standing the phrase in all its extent of meaning, with the one exception only of the knowledge that '^ maketh wise unto salvation," which it is evident must not be taken at all into the account,) is decidedly the most ra- tional, and the most fitted, from its nature, to yield en- joyment worthy of such a creature as man. Yet even of the pursuit of knowledge Solomon here affirms, that " in much wisdom (is) much ^rief ;" and that " he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." — Let us, first of all, then, contemplate human wisdom apart from the knowledge of God and Divine things, and take an attentive view of the circumstances from which the grief and sorrow of which he speaks may be considered as arising. In the first place : This wisdom and knowledge, if a man is determined to go far beyond his fellows in the acquisition of it, must be discovered, and examined, and appropriated by '•'much study ;^^ and this, as Solo- mon observes towards the close of his treatise, is " a •weariness of the jiesh" — It is not easy for the unin- formed and inexperienced to imagine the fatigue of mind, and the consequent fatigue of body, to which the men who devote their days to learning must lay their account to subject themselves. Solomon speaks of l^much wisdonij" and of the increase^ or growing 44.' LECTURE II. abundance of knowledge. Now such extraordinary ai • tamments must be purchased at the expense of intense and constant application ; which is inconceivably more wasting and exhausting to the constitution, than the hardest toil of the industrious labourer; and to which many, earlier or later in life, some with a mournful and lamented prematurity, have fallen victims. — The inces- sant stretch of the mind's faculties, frequent harassing and anxious perplexity, studious days and sleepless nights must be his portion, who sets his heart on the attainment of unusal eminence, in science in general, or in any of its various departments. Secondly : In this pursuit, as in others, there are many disappointments to be exj)ected, to fret, and mor- tify, and irritate the spirit : — such as, experiments fail- ing, some of them perhaps long-continued, promising, and costl}' ;■— facts turning out contradictory, and un- setdhig or overturning favourite theories ;-— the means of prosecuting a train of discovery fulling short, at the very moment, it may be, when they are most desirable ; trifling and worthless results arising, after much labour, long-tried patience, and sanguine expectation ;— the anticipated honour and pleasure of introducing a new and important invention or discovery, the product of the experiments and investigations of years, lost on the very eve of arrival, by the priority of an unknown com- petitor.— These, and numberless other occasions of mortification and disquietude, more and less considera- ble, revealed or kept secret in the bosom, may be ex- pected in the lot of the man who devotes himself to science. Thirdly : There are some parts of knowledge which are, in their very nature, painful and distressing. — In a world where sin reigns, and which, on account of sin, ECCLES. I. i2 IS. 4§ lies under the curse of God, many must be the scenes of misery, many the afflicting occurrences and facts., which present themselves to the observant and investi- gating mind, that is in quest of general and extensive information. They abound both in the past and present history of mankind. They arc fitted to fill the heart with ''grief" and "sorrow;" and the more a man's knowledge extends,— the more he reads, and hears, and observes, the more copious v;ill this source of bitterness become. — Not but that there is much of an opposite and pleasing description, as a set-ofF against those evils; - — but it is enough, that there ore actually causes of positive distress, and causes that necessarily multiply with the growing extent of a man's knowledge. Fourthly : There is to be taken into account the mortification of pride that must be experienced, in con- sequence of the limited nature of the human faculties. There are, in every direction in which the rinnd may choose to push its inquiries, boundaries, beyond which it attempts in vain to penetrate. And when the man who makes scientific research his supreme good, and the main object of his life, finds, that in every depart- ment of investigation he arrives at some point, beyond which his powers, strained to their utmost effort, cannot carry him,_at some subject that baffles all his endea- vours to comprehend it,— some question which he can- not answer,— some difficulty which he cannot solve ; — that the most luminous path of discovery terminates at length in impenetrable obscurity :_there is apt to spring up, in the natural mind, an indignant dissatis- faction, the offspring of the unsubdued pride and self- sufficiency of intellect, which cannot fail to produce, and sometimes in a very high degree, disquietude and " vexation of spirit." 46 LECTURE II. Fifthly : There is a similar feeling of mortification, arising from the very circumstance, that, with all the knowledge and wisdom that are acquired, there is still a blank, still a consciousness of want and deficiency, in re- gard to true happiness.— I do not mean the want of any additional knowledge,— the want of something of the same kind that has not been attained, and the attainment of which seems difficult or hopeless ;— but a want which even such additional attainments could not supply. The man himself, while -sensible, irksomely sensible of it, may not be well aware what it is, lor whence it arises ; he may feel it, without knowing how it is to be re- moved. He may sigh for the unknown something, and wonder that he should not be happy. And few things can be conceived more galling to the spirit, more vexa- tiously mortifying, more fitted to fill a man with des- peration, and with a fretful and sullen " hatred of all his labour w^iich he hath taken under the sun," than this bitter consciousness, that with all his study, all his research, all his learning, all his varied acquirements, there should still exist such a sense of w^ant, as to full satisfaction and happiness. Sixthly : The man of " much wisdom" and *' in- creased knowledge," generally, if not universally, be- comes the marked object of the scorn of some, and the envy of others. — Some depreciate his studies and all their results, laugh at them, and hold them up to con- tempt and ridicule. Others are stung with secret jea- lousy ; which is the odious parent of all the hidden arts of detraction and calumny, and of injurious and un- v.?orthy attempts to deprive him of his well-earned ho- nours, and to cast him down from his excellency." And it is not merely the apprehended or the suffered aonsequences of such mean and wicked arts that is dis- ECCLES. I. 12 — 18. 47 tressing;— to a mind of generous and honourable feel- ing it must be grief and " vexation of spirit," even to be the object of passions so vile and devilish. Lastly : There is yet another consideration, which to some of you may seem far-fetched, but which I can- not forbear noticing. — The man who occupies his powers in the pursuit and acquisition of human wis- dom alone, careless of God, and uninfluenced by re- gaxd to his authority and to his glory, is leaving eter- nity a wretched blank ; has no solid and satisfactory support in the anticipation of it, when the thought in- trudes itself upon his mind ; and is treasuring up grief and sorrow for the close of his career. God having been neglected, his powers must be considered, in the Di- vine estimate, and in the estimate of an awakened con- science, as having been wasted and abused , — science will not yield him peace and hope in the " valley of the shadow of death ;" and a neglected God will call him to account for the use made of those faculties which he himself had bestowed, and of whose exercise he ought himself to have been the first and highest object. — However lawful, nay, however apparently excellent and honourable his pursuits themselves may have been, the reckoning will be fearful, when God is found to have been awanting :— fearful, — and justly fearful. In proportion to the greatness and variety of the powers conferred, and the capabilities thence arising, will the shame and remorse be deep, and the guilt and punish ment aggravated. Whilst such considerations as these may serve to vindicate and illustrate the affirmation that " in much wisdom (is) much grief, and that he who increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow ;"— it is necessary to ob« serve, that Solomon does not by any means say, that in 48 LECTURE II. " mucli wisdom and increase of knowledge" there is 720 ^enjoyment. That were a very different proposition. There may and must be enjoyment, — various in kind and in degree. — But, like the enjoyment springing from every worldly and temporal source, it is mixed with much of an opposite character. And, therefore, it is, that such wisdom and knowledge, considered by them- selves, opart from something still higher and still better, considered as constituting the happiness of the man who seeks and possesses them, must ever be found vain ;— can never be a sufficient portion to the immor- tal soul, especially in its anticipations of eternal exis- tence ;— can never impart to the mind full, and steady, and permanent satisfaction. The passage, thus explained, suggests two conclu- ding reflections : — In the first place : — *' Godliness with contentment is great gain."*_If it is impossible for a man, with all his labour and all his skill, to control the administration of providence, to command events, and to order all the circumstances of his lot exactly to his mind ; if univer- sal experience confirms the truth, that " that which is crooked cannot be made straight, and that which is wanting cannot be numbered:" then the secret of true happiness must consist, in having the mind reconciled to that which is crooked, and to that which is deficient ; —in being submissive to all the arrangements of the Supreme will. Such submission can only arise from the confidence of faith in the wisdom, faithfulness, and love, of our heavenly Father, and the assurance of his universal and unceasing care of all the interests of his children. " Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? yet one of them shall not fall on the ground without ' I Tim. vi. 6. ECCLES. I. 13 18. 49 your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered."^' — This is our encouragement to " cast all our cares upon him. He careth for us." It is when we avail ourselves of the precious privilege, "in every thing by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, to make our requests known unto God," that ^* the peace of God which passeth all understanding keeps our heart and mind by Christ Jesus."t — ** We know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his pur- pose. "| — " That which is crooked" and " that which is wanting" may thus be numbered amongst our very benefits, as contributing, according to the design of Him who gives and withholds at his pleasure, to ad- vance our best and highest interests ; to spiritualize our affections ; to disengage our hearts from the world ; to save us from the danger of making it bur portion ; to draw us away from all its sinful pleasures, and to mo- derate and sanctify our attachment even to its lawful enjoyments; to bring us, in the state of our minds and the tenor of our conduct, into more full conformity to the spirit of the apostolic admonition : — "But this I say, brethren, the time is short. It remaineth, that both they that have wives be as though they had none ; and they that weep as though they wept not ; and they that rejoice as though they rejoiced not ; and they that buy as though they possessed not ; and they that use this world as not abusing (it ;) because the fashion of this world passeth away."§— In such a world, my brethren, as that which we inhabit, where there are so many wants that cannot be supplied, and evils that cannot be avoided, he is the truly happy man, who has been taught * Matt. X, 29, 30, f Phil. iv. 6, 7. + Kom. viii. 28. fj 1 Cor. vii. 29—51. 50 LECTURE If. of God the rare and precious lesssoii of contentment in all conditions ; — " Not that I speak in respect of want ; for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound : everywhere, and in all tilings I am instructed, both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound, and to sufler need:"*— he is the truly happy man who in prosperity and adversity sees the love of a father, — in the former " crowning him with loving- kindness and tender mercies," in the latter *^ correcting him for his profit ;" and who is prepared to say, under all the trials and bereavements of life, when he feels his inability to rectify that which is crooked, or to number that which is wanting, — " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ;~blessed be the name of the Lord !" — " Shall we receive good at the hand of the Lord and shall we not receive evil also ?"t In the second place : — There is one description of Avisdom and knowledge, that is infinitely excellent and desirable ;— not the source of grief and sorrow, but the fountain of pure and everlasting joy. " This is life eter- nal, that they might know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent."J — Here is know- ledge worth having and worth seeking : infinitely ex- alted in its subject, and unutterably precious in its re- sults. Were a man to possess all knowledge besides this; to concentrate in his own mind the collected science of all countries and of all generations ;— the want of this would turn all to " vanity and vexation of spirit." And on the contrary, the most ignorant and il- literate of mankind, as to other branches of knowledge, if possessed of this, is truly wise ; for he is " wise to- ward God," " wise unto salvation," wise for eternity, * Phil. iv. 11, 12. t Job i. 21. ii. 19. t John xvii, ? ECCLES. I. 12 — 18. 51 Even now, this wisdom imparts the purest and most elevated delight, amidst all the trying viscissitudes of this valley of tears. The pleasures that arise from other kinds of knowledge are themselves mingled with " grief and sorrow," and are incapable of imparting.to the soul any solid and effectual consolation and support under the other troubles of life :-~and when we look forward, and anticipate the close of this earthly scene, we behold this wisdom ending in the enjoyment and fulfilment of good hope, — in the possession of everlasting and un mingled felicity ; — and every other, however valued, and pursued, and applauded by men, terminating in despair and darkness, and eternal shame. The gospel of Christ, — the doctrine of the cross, though esteemed foolishness by men, is " the power of God, and the wisdom of God." It is the study of an- gels. They desire to look into it. They explore its sublime mysteries with intense and unwearied delight. " If any man among you, then, seemeth to be wise in this world, let him become a fool that he may be wise." You can never be truly and profitably wise, but by sitting down at the feet of Jesus, and " learning of him." Here, my friends, — in this blessed Book, "given by inspiration of God,"- — here, are the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. An acquaintance with its precious contents may not procure you a reputation for wisdom in the world, may not enrol your names amongst its honoured and applauded sages ; but it will procure for you what is infinitely more valuable, " the honour that cometh from God only." — Let Christians seek above all things that they may grow in this knowledge ;— the knowledge of the Divine word, in all its inexhaustible riches and variety of contents ;~never losing sight of him who is " the sum and substance of the word,"— the 52 LECTURE II. ECCliES. I. 12—18. reality of legal shadows, the spirit of prophecy, and tlie glorious theme of apostolic testimony. — ** Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly." In much of this wisdom, there is much gladness, and he that increaseth this knowledge increaseth joy.- — " My son, if thou wilt re- ceive my words, and hide my commandments vvith thee; so that thou incline thine ear unto wisdom (and) apply thine heart to understanding ; yea, if thou criest after knowledge, (and) liftest up thy voice for understand- ing ; if thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as (for) hid treasures ; then shalt thou understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God. For the Lord giveth wisdom : out of his mouth (cometh) knowledge and understanding. He layeth up sound wisdom for the righteous : (he is) a buckler to them that walk uprightly. He keepeth the paths of judgment, and preserveth the way of his saints. Then shalt thou understand righteousness, and judgment, and equity ; (yea;) every good path." LECTURE III. EccLEs. ii. 1 — 11. 1 " / said in mine heart. Go to now, I -will prove thee with mirth S 2 therefore enjoy filcasure : and, behold, this also (is) vatiity, J said 3 of laughter, fit is) mad: and of mirth, Whatdoethit? I sought in mine heart to give myself unto wine, yet acquainting mine heart with wisdom, and to lay hold on folly, till I might see what fwasj that good for the sons of men which they should do under the heaven all 4 the days of their life. I made me great works ; I buildcd me houses ; 5 I planted me vineyards ; I made me gardens and orchards, and 1 6 planted trees in them of all (kind of) fruits; I made me pools of 7 water, to water therewith the wood that bringeth forth trees ; I got (me) servants and maidens, and had servants born in my house ; also I had great possessions of great and small cattle above all that 8 were in Jerusalem before me ; I gathered me also silver and gold, atid the peculiar treasure of kings and of the provinces ; I gat me men-singers -and wo?nen-si?igers, and the delights of the sons of men, 9 fas) musical instruments, and that of all sorts. So I was great, and increased more than all that were before me in Jerusalem : also 10 my wisdom remained with me. And whatsoever 7nine eyes desired I kept not from them ; I withheld not my heart from any joy ;for my heart rejoiced in all my labour ; and this was my portion of all my 11 labour. Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had laboured to do ; and. behold, all (was) vanity and vexation of spirit, and (there was) no profit undtv the sun." Xn the 16th verse of the first chapter, Solomon speaks of his having " communed with his own heart." It ap- 'pears to be this kind of communing that he carries on in the beginning of the second. As the rich man in the parable is represented as addressing his soul — " I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry," — so does Solomon here address himself to his heart : B4< LECTURE III. — " Come," says he, " I will prove thee with mirth.'' 'Wisdom, thou hast found, will not suffice to give thee the satisfaction thou seekest ; let me try thee, then, with something else. In much wisdom, thou hast dis- covered, there is much grief; try then, what mirth can do to make thee happy. ** In this enjoy pleasure.'"' — • Seq if pleasure, or happiness, lies here. The word pleasure^ is not, I apprehend, to be here understood in the restricted sense in which we fre- quently use it, as nearly synonymous with the 7nirth to which Solomon determined to have recourse ; but in the more enlarged and general sense of happiness, — that which was the great object of inquiry and pursuit, that on which the course of experiments was making: " Come, I will prove thee with mirth : in it enjoy hap- piness ;'''' — more literally, " In it see good .-''^ — try this new source of enjoyment ; whether if will any better suit thy taste, and fill up thine unsatisfied v.^ishes. Here, then, we behold the king of Israel descending from the pleasures of learning to the pleasures of sense. He now appears before us, surrounded with the gay, the witty, the mirthful, the voluptuous, the profligate : those choice spirits, as they counted and called them- selves and one another, who fancied the secret of hap- piness to lie, in banishing all reflection, in laughing at preciseness and melancholy, and drowning care in merriment and revelry. He did not, however, relinquish entirely his former pursuits. In the third verse, he informs us, that whilst he sought to give himself unto wine, and to lay hold on folly, he still acquainted his heart with wisdom ; and, in the ninth verse, that " his wisdom also re- mained with him." — In the pursuits of wisdom he had found pleasure; but it was a pleasure mingled with ECCLES. II. 1 11. 55 much grief and sorrow. It seems, therefore, to have been his next plan, not to relinquish these pursuits in disgust, but, whilst he continued to enjoy the satisfac- tion they were fitted to impart, to overcome and banish the griefs which they had occasioned ; — to retain the pleasure, and to drown the care. He still, therefore, oc- cupies a portion of his time in the studies before de- scribed ; and a great part of the remainder he devoted to the banqueting room,— to the social pleasures of jovial festivity. But instead of *' mirth" answering the purpose, either of making him happy by itself, or of supplying the deficiencies of wisdom, he pronounces upon it the same verdict : — " and behold, this also is vanity." His in- quiry was, Where shall happiness be found ? and where is the place of true enjoyment ?~and intemperate mirth, like human science and earthly wisdom, said, but with still more impressive emphasis, It is not in me. '^ I said of laughter" (verse 2d) " It is mad; and of mirth, Whatdoeth it?"— This seems to have been his language to himself, when his seasons of merriment were over, and he be- gan, in his moments of cool sobriety, to ^^ commune with his heart," and to reflect seriously on what he had been about. It is the record of dear-bought experi- ence ;— designed by him for the warning of others, after his own soul had been mercifully recovered from the perilous mazes of error and sin in which he had gone astray :— " I said of laughter, It is mad." The intemperate mirth in which he had indulged, was like a temporary phrenzy ; during which, Reason and Re- ligion were alike dethroned from the empire of the mind, and all was wild and tumultuous disorder. It was surely much liker tlie fancy of a derajiged than of a 56 LECTURE III. sound and collected mind, that true happiness could consist in mere thoughtless and unbridled merriment ; and it was the act of such a mind to bring this fancy- to practical experiment. — We pity from the heart the hapless subjects of mental derangement, who are in- sensible of their melancholy lot, and who seem, in the midst of real wretchedness, to enjoy an imaginary felicity. Moody madness, laughing wild. Amid severest wo. is, of all the sufferings of this valley of tears, the most deeply touching. And what shall we think of the soundness of that man's intellect, and with what de- scription of feelings are we to contemplate him, who, surrounded with scenes, so many and so various, both in private and in public life, of a nature fitted to awaken to serious thoughtfulness, and acknowledging himself too an accountable and immortal being, yet makes the banishment of thought the problem of his life, seeks his happiness in the absence of all reflection, devotes himself to unrestrained mirth amidst a world of wo, and to unreflecting laughter and jollity with the grave and the judgment- seat before his eyes ? Is this any thing short of the insensibility of madness ? Does the Christian poet use too bold a comparison,— or does he not rather ^- speak the words of truth and soberness,'* when he compares such men to '^ maniacs dancing in their chains ?"— It was the language of heart-stricken feeling, — the language of deep experimental conviction that Solomon used when he said of such laughter, *' It is mad," and of mirth like this, "What doeth it?" What doeth it toward the production of true happiness? .What is enjoyed that deserves the name, even during its boisterous reign ? and what remains from U when ECCLES. 11. 1—11. 57 that reign is over ? — *' Even in laughter," (such is the record elsewhere of his own experience) " Even in laughter, the heart is sorrowful ; and the end of that mirth (is) heaviness:"* — '^ for, as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so (is) the laughter of the fool."t — Thoughtless mirth, in a creature that has so much as man has to make him serious, is in itself irrational ; and although, by those who give themselves up to it, it is called " a cure for the heart-ache," it is far, very far alas ! from deserving the designation. It is, after all, but poor and flimsy covering, either for the cares of an anxious mind, or the secret stingings of an ac- cusing conscience, or the .restlessness of a spirit that is ill at ease and dissatisfied with itself. And " the end of that mirth (is) heaviness." It yields no subsequent satisfaction. The " yesterday" of intemperate folly " looks not backward with a smile." In proportion to the previous elevation of the spirits is the depth of the subsequent depression. — The lees of the debauch are bitter. — When the effervescence of the animal spirits is over, and the mind subsides into itself, it feels but *' an aching void." — The blaze of crackling thorns is violent and noisy, and, withal, while it lasts, wonder- fully cheerful and enlivening ; but quickly it dies away and leaves nothing behind but darkness and unsightly ashes. The " mirth" to which Solomon thus addicted him- self we have considered as the mirth of festive convi= viality :— and I need not say that to such mirth the free circulation of the bottle and the glass is, in the estima- tion of the hons vivants, an indispensable requisite. How can a company be merry without wine ? — This, accordingly, is not awanting in Solomon's experiment : * Trov. xiy. 1 5, f EccL vii. 6, H 58 LECTURE III. — " I sought," says he, ^' to give myself unto wine ;"— that is, not to the grovelling practice of solitary drink- ing, as a mere gratification of animal appetite, or means of intoxication ; but to the pleasures of the social board :— he resolved, to " eat, and to drink, and to be merry." He determined, at the same time, «till to " acquaint his heart with wisdom."— Some, it is true, understand this, of his wisely regulating his indulgences, applying pYudence and discretion to his pleasures, enjoying with, out exceeding. — It seems more natural to interpret it as already hinted of, his not renouncing his literary and philosophical pursuits, but connecting them with the pleasures of wine that '^ maketh glad the heart of man ;" associating the two descriptions of gratification, the sensual and the intellectual, the grosser and the more refined. And, indeed, it is hardly to be supposed, that when the heart was " given to wine" as a source of pleasure, and given to it amidst the '^ mirth" of the convivial banquet, it was used by the rule and the measure of prudential restraint, and exemplary self- government ; that, in this species of indulgence, the Royal philosopher *' let his moderation be known unto all men." Whilst he thus continued to ^'acquaint his heart with wisdom," he, at the same time, " sought to lay hold on folly ,•" by which he seems to mean the folly he had just mentioned. He endeavoured to combine the two. He tried each, and he tried both together. And this he did, that he might, as he here expresses it, ^' see what was that good for the sons of men, which they should do under the heaven, all the days of their life •,"— that is, in consistency with the object and scope of the whole Book, that he might discover, by his own ecci.es. ii. 1 — 11. 59 experience, what was the best and happiest way of spending this mortal life .—and having thus briefly no- ticed his trial of the " lust of the flesh and of the mind," he adds, in the following verses, a fuller and a very spirited description of the experiment to which he brought " the lust of the eye, and the pride of life." Verses 4—11. "■ I made me great works; I builded me houses; I planted me vineyards ; I made me gardens and. orchards, and I planted trees in them of all (kind of) fruits : I made me pools of water, to water therewith the wood that bringeth forth trees ; I got (me) servants and maidens, and had servants born in my house ; also I had great possessions of great and small cattle above all that were in Jerusalem before me ; I gathered me als» silver and gold, and the peculiar treasure of kings and of the provinces ; I gat me men-singers and women- singers, and the delights of the sons of men, (as) musi- cal instruments, and that of all sorts. So I was great, and increased more than all that were before me in Je- rusalem : also my wisdom remained with mc. And whatsoever mine eyes desired I kept not from them ; I withheld not my heart from any joy : for my heart re- joiced in all my labour ; and this was my portion of all my labour. Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had la- boured to do; and, behold, all (was) vanity and vexa- tion of spirit, and (there was) no profit under the sun." It is unnecessary to dwell long on the various par- ticulars in this enumeration. He " made him great works ;''^—ho\\\ private and public ; such as might gratify ambition and the love of fame, by exciting the wonder and admiration of his own subjects and of strangers, might afford objects of contemplation for the eye of his vanity, and give scope 60 LECTURE in. for such feelings of self-complacency and high^minded- ne^s as were uttered by the King of Babylon, when, standing on the roof of his palace, in the midst of his splendid city, and surveying its stupendous and magni- ficent structures, he said, '^' is not this great Babylon that I have built, for the house of my kingdom, by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty ?"* I think Solomon may be understood here as referr- ing, not only to the works which were actually con- structed during that period of his life which he em- phatically denominates " the days of his vanity," but to those also which he had previously reared, which he then, it may be supposed, enlarged and adorned, and began to contemplate with the new and corrupt emo- tions of vanity and pride. He " builded him houses." Solomon's palace in Jerusalem was thirteen years in building. He built, besides, the spacious and elegant '^ house of the forest of Lebanon ;" and another house, of similar costliness and splendour, for the daughter of Pharaoh. f To these, the history adds, " Millo, and the wall of Jerusalem, and Hazor, and Megiddo, and Gezer ; Bethhoron the nether, Baalath, and Tadmor in the wilderness ; cities of store, cities for his chariots, and cities for his horse- men ;" and a variety of other buildings, *^ in Jerusalem, in Lebanon, and in all the land of his dominions."J: He ^' planted vineyards ; made gardens and orchards, and planted in them trees of all kinds of fruits ; and made pools of water, to water therewith the wood that bringeth forth trees."— B}'' this last expression are pro- bably meant those extensive nurseries of seedlings, from which his woods and orchards were supplied. * Dan, iv. 30- -^ 1 Kings vii. 1—12, + Ibjd. ix, 15—19. ECCLES. II, 1 11. 61 These he watered artificially, at great expense, and with much labour and skill ; intersecting them with canals, and feeding these canals from ponds and reser- voirs, to secure a constant and regular irrigation. The number and variety, the, order and apparel of Solomon's servants, and the whole style of his domes- tic establishment, were amongst the circumstances by which the queen of Sheba; on her visit to Jerusalem, was so much astonished, and withal, from feelings, it may be presumed, of hopeless envy, so much dispirited. When she saw *' the meat of his table, and the sitting of his servants, and the attendance of his ministers, and their apparel, and his cup-bearers,"—" there was no more spirit in her." / The abundance of his wealth, in '^ great and small cattle," and in ** silver and gold," was a fulfilment of the express promise of God to him at the commence- ment of his reign, to add unprecedented riches to unex- ampled wisdom. — " The weight of gold that came to Solomon in one year, was six hundred threescore and six talents of gold ; besides that he had of the mer- chantmen, and of the traffic of the spice-merchants, and of all the kings of Arabia, and of the governors of the country." '^ And all king Solomon's drinking vessels were of gold, and all the vessels of the house of the fo- rest of Lebanon were of pure gold ; none were of silver : it was nothing accounted of in the days of Solomon." " The king made silver to be in Jerusalem as stones, for abundance."* — Both national and personal wealth flowed in from the surrounding countries :— for *' Solo- mon reigned over all kingdoms, from the river unto the land of the Philistines, and unto the border of Egypt: they brought presents, and served Solomon * IKinffsx. 14,15, 21, ?7 &2 LECTURE III. all the days of his life."* •« All the earth sought to Salomon, to hear his wisdom, \\hich God had put in his heart : and they brought every man his present, vessels of silver and vessels of gold, and garments, and armour, and spices, and horses and mules, a rate year by year."t ~It is probable the riches derived from tributary states, and from the multiplied and precious gifts of gratula- tion and homage, that he describes under the designa- tion, ^' the peculiar treasure of kings and of the pro- vinces." The wealth which the king acquired, was an object about which, in the best days of his reign, when he first first mounted the throne of Israel, his heart had been very indifferent. He had sought the higher gifts of '^ wisdom and understanding," to fit him for the happy discharge of his Royal functions. But the riches which at first, in the exercise of an enlightened and upright mind, he employed for advancing the glory of God, and the best interests of his people, qualified him after- wards, during the period of his backsliding, when *' his heart departed from the Lord," for prosecuting to the utmost advantage his experiments on happiness. They were not lodged in his coffers with the avarice of a miser ; but were profusely expended on all that they could procure of sensual gratification. He *' got him men-singers, and women-singers, and the delights of the sons of men, as musical instruments, and that of all sorts : whatsoever his eyes desired, he kept not from them : he withheld not his heart from any joy."— All the senses were consulted and pampered. Whatever could contribute to charm the eye or the ear, the taste^ the touch or the smell, was procured by him, in all its variety, and in all its excellence. He conducted his ex * 1 Kings iv. 21. f Ibid. x. 24, 25 ECCLES. II. 1 — 11, 63 periments on a large scale ; sparing upon them no pains and. no expense, and not restrained, by any of the over- delicate and inconvenient scruples of a tender con science, from satiating his heart in all its most extra- vagant and capricious desires. In the midst of all his grandeur, in which (verse 9} he *^ increased above all that were before him in Jeru- salem," and in the midst of all his sumptuous and costly pleasures, " his wisdom remained with him :"— - not indeed that true wisdom in which he commenced his reign, consisting in a mind regulated, in all its am- ple powers, by the '* fear of the Lord ;" but a pene- trating and capacious int-ellect, with all its vast and varied acquirements, in human science, and in the speculative knowledge of the theology of Israel. Hi.s reputation for wisdom continued to equal his fame for riches and power. Solomon, as I have just observed, made his experi- ments on happiness on an extensive scale ; procuring for himself, by whatever trouble, and at whatever cost, every possible gratification ; every thing a roving fdncy could suggest, every thing a heart bent upon indul gence could wish : — Verse 10. *^ And whatsoever mine eyes desired 1 kept not from them; I withheld not my heart from any joy ; for my heart rejoiced in all my labour ; and this was my portion of all my labour." The ^' delights" which he had enumerated in the preceding verses, were, in their own nature, lawful. He went to the utmost bounds of such enjoyments : and in prosecuting his diversified works of ambition, and elegance, and luxurious refinement, he experienced a kin^ of satisfaction and temporary exhilaration of spirit. His mind was kept occupied; his attention t)4 liECTURE III. busy : his eye and ear felt the charm of varying no- velty ; and the admiration excited by his labours, ter- minating upon himself as their author and owner, gra- tified his vanity. Thus " his heart rejoiced in his la- bour." He was not interrupted by wars ; he was not incapacitated by sickness ; he was not cramped or em- barrassed by an exhausted or deficient treasury; but was favoured, by the very God whom he was forgetting and forsaking, with full and undistracted opportunity of indulgence, in the prosecution of all the modes of gratification which his heart could devise. He tasted their sweetness " without adversary or eviloccurrent;" nor vi^as his enjoyment marred by any grudging or covetous regret of his immense expenditure, which to some minds would have embittered the whole scene. — This temporary enjoyment was *^ his portion of all his labours." It was what they were intended to produce to him. Present gratification was the object of them all : so he made the most of them ; treating all his wishes liberally ; disdaining every feeling of niggardli- ness ; glorying in his riches, and using them for the accomplishment of his ends, with open-handed and un- repining profusion. But after all, where was the charm in all this ? It was novelty merel3^ His heart rejoiced in his labours, but not after them. They were by and by completed ; the novelty of them passed away ; and with the novelty, the pleasure which they had yielded. There was a lively buoyancy of spirit in the busy acquisition ; but it left no permanent satisfaction in the subsequent posses- sion ;— a case far from uncommon, when the mind has been allowed to run wild in quest of happiness, and has. been trying to find it, away from God : — Verse 11. " Then I looked on all the works that my ECCLES. II. 1 — 11. 65 hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had la- boured to do : and behold, ail was vanity and vexation of spirit; and there was no profit under the sun." — Strange ! Was there not every thing in his lot that his heart could wish ? Yes : he had " withheld his heart from no joy." But alas ! every earthly pleasure, when unconnected with better blessings, must leave a void. It palls upon the appetite for happiness, and leaves it as eager and unsatisfied as before. The question is still fretfully repeated, " Who will show us any good ?" After all Solomon's labour, " his eye was not satisfied "with seeing, nor his ear filled with hearing." And when he thus felt the result of all to be •=' vanity," as to the production of true and lasting happiness ; this very feeling was, of itself, quite sufficient to render all " vexa- tion of spirit." Nothing could well be more mortify- ing. He resembled a man, who has set about construct- ing a machine for some particular purpose, complicated and intricate, the result, in the idea, of long and close application of inventive genius, and requiring, in the execution, a great expenditure of skill, and time, and patient labour. While the work is in progress, his mind is full of it. He has no doubt he will be able to make it answer :— and the confidence of succeeding animates him to vigorous perseverance, and keeps him in fine spirits. — At length, it is completed ; and he finds, to his unspeakable mortification, that it will not do. In theory it was ingenious, and seemingly perfect in its adaptation to the end. But when tried in practice, there is some unanticipated defect ; and possibly he cannot discover where it lies^ *' All is now vanity and vexa- tion of spirit ; and there is no profit to him of all his labour." — Such was the nature, and such the success, of Solomon's experiment for the procuring of happi- I 66 LECTURE III. ness. When his labour was ended, he had only to sigh over its results. He very soon tired of looking at what was finished, and of hearing what he had heard before; And besides the feeling of immediate unsatisfactori- ness, the galling reflection, as he informs us in a sub- sequent part of this chapter, forced itself upon his mind, and fretted, and mortified, and disgusted him, that in a very short time all must be left behind him ; and left too, he could not tell to whom, whether to a wise man or a fool. From this passage we may observe, in the first place : It is a radical, but very prevalent mistake as to happi- ness, when men conceive of it as arising from situation. —Under the influence of this mistake, how often do men, finding something awanting in a particular con- dition or employment, immediately betake themselves to another, and thence to another, and another, the same feeding of dissatisfaction attending them successively in each ; from their not considering, that it is not in the nature of earthly things, however varied and modi- fied, to be a portion to the human mind, and from their not being aware, that they are all the while carrying about the root and cause of dissatisfdction in their own bosoms. Here lies the unsuspected evil : — here the se- cret spring of bitterness. Men engaged in the pursuit of worldly happiness, changing incessantly from one pursuit to another, trying every likely resource, resem- ble a person in a fever, who in every posture to which he can turn himself, feels uneasy, and is ever fancying that another change will make him comfortable, insen- sible that the uneasiness of whi^ he complains has its origin in his distemper itself, and cannot be relieved by mere position. — The radical principle of happiness must be carried about within us^ else we shall infallibly fail of satisfaction in every trial we can make of earthly good. ECCLES. 11. 1 — ^11. 67 In the second place : let it not be supposed that there is no such thing to be found as true satisfaction, — real and substantial happiness. This would be a very hasty, and a very false conclu- sion. There is such a thing,-— blessed be the gracious Author of our being ! — there ?s such a thing to be found, as solid and heart-satisfying enjoyment. It is not indeed to be derived from the sources to which So- lomon betook himself in " the days of his vanity." — He sought it in " mirth and laughter." But it has often been truly observed, that the objects at which we laugh loudest are not the objects which yield us the greatest delight. The purest kinds, and the highest de- grees, of this feeling, are more frequently expressed by tears, than by laughter. How often has the truth of the saying formerly adverted to been experienced by others as well as Solomon, — that " even in laughter the heart is sad, and that the end of that mirth is heaviness 1" ^' True joy is a serious thing."*— As little as the ob- ject of universal search to be found, in the varieties of sensual indulgence, or the pomp, and pride, and luxury of life, and the splendours of ambitious and busy roy- alty. In these too, Solomon sought it in vain. Many things may be accessories to happiness ; but " one thing is needful." The true secret of it is, livifjg to God ; — enjoying God in all things, and all things in Him. This is at once the pure and the sublime of enjoyment. Ever vain and fruitless must the pursuit of happiness be, apart from the favour and the service of God. He must enter into all that merits the name of true felicity to a rational creature. He is the fountain * The sentiment, I think, is Addison's : but I am not sure in my recollection, Khere in his writings it occurs, tj8 i^ECTURE III. of all joy : and the streams are truly sweet, only as they ta^te of the fountain. '* O God, thou (art) my God 5 early will I seek thee : my soul thirsteth for thee, my Hesh longeth for thee, in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is ; to see thy power and thy glory, ^o (as) I have seen thee in the sanctuary. Because thy loving, kindness (is) better than life, my lips shall praise thee. Thus will I bless thee while I live ; I will lift up my hands in thy name. My soul shall be satisfied as (widi) marrow and fatness; and my mouth shall praise (thee) with joyful lips ; when I remember thee upon my bed, (and) meditate on thee in the (night) -watches." This is the *' good old wine" which once made Solomon's heart, as well as David's glad. He " tasted new :"— but he was brought at length, by dear-bought bu» happy experience, to say, " The old is better." " Live while ye live ! the sensualist may say. And catch the pleasures of the passing day. Live while ye live ! the holy man replies. And give to God each moment as it flies. Lord, in my life let both united be ! 1 live in pleasure, when I live to tiiee !" In the third place : Let this passage repress in every bosom, the feelings of envy. The poor, when they read such a description as these verses contain,— of houses, and vineyards, and gardens, and orchards, and lakes, and woods ; and servants, and cattle, and silver and gold, and royal jewels, and music, and all the '^ delights of the sons of men;"— are ready to feel the rising emotions of jealousy, and to heave the sigh of envious discontent over their own condi- tion. They mistake this glare of magnificence, this outward semblance of enjoyment, for true happiness. But the antidote to all such feelings, my friends, is be- fore vou. Read on, Pass from the detail of abundance ECCLES. II. 1 11. 69 and splendour, to the estimate subsequently formed of it all, by the owner himself:—" Then I looked on all* the works that my hands had wrought, and on the la- bour that I had laboured to do : and, behold, all was,' vanity and vexation of spirit ; and there was no profit under the sun!" Banish, then, your envy. Deceive not yourselves with the fancy, that Solomon's disappoint- ment might not be yours. Be assured, you would fare no better than he. The same experiment wotild yield the same result to you, as it did to him, and as it has done to many more, who have foolishly ventured to repeat it.— Be not ** envious, then, at the foolish, when you see the prosperity of the wicked." '^ Be not thou afraid, when one is made rich, when the glory of his house is increased : for when he dieth he shall carry- nothing away ; his glory shall not descend after him : though while he lived he blessed his soul, (and men will praise thee, when thou doest well to thyself,) he shall go to ihe generation of his fathers ; they shall' never see light. Man that is in honour, and under- standeth not, is like the beasts that perish." — Let your minds, then, be settled, my brethren, in the truth of the apostolic aphorism, *' godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into this world ', and it is certain we can carry nothing out. Having, therefore, food and raiment, let us be therewith con- tent."-- 'If you are " rich in faith, and heirs of the king- dom which God hath provided for them that love him,*' envy may well be a stranger to your bosoms. *' Let the brother of low degree rejoice in that he is exalted, but the rich in that he is made low : because as the flower of the grass he shall pass away. For the sun is no sooner risen with a burning heat, than it withereth the grass, and the flower thereof falleth, and the grace of 70 LBOTURE III. the fashion of it perisheth : so also shall the rich man fade away in his ways."* Lastly : Let my hearers *^ suffer the word of exhor- tation," from the lips of the Saviour himself: — <' Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal : — but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal : — for where your treasure is, there will your hearts be also."t — Seek not your happiness in riches, nor in any thing which riches can procure. It were puerile affectation, or unscripturai cant, to undervalue and vilify them ; or to refuse to ad- mit the desirableness of many of the blessings which they put in their possessor's power. But still, neither they themselves, nor all they can enable you to obtain, must be your happiness, — yonr portion. You must seek '^ a better and more enduringsubstance. " " The grounds of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully : and he thought within himself, saying, What shall I do, be^ cause I have no room where to bestow my fruits ? And he said, This will I do : I will pull down my barns, and build greater ; and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years ; take thine ease, eat, drink, (and) be merry. But God said unto him, (Thou) fool, this night thy soul shall be required df thee ; then whose shall those things be which thou hast provided ? So (is) he that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich towards God" One might have looked on all Solomon's " great works," and splendid buildings, and varied and accu- mulated magnificence, and have said, The possessor of ' James i. 9.— 11. t Matt. vi. 19-21. ECCLES. TI. 1—11. 71 all these may die to day :— this night his soul may be required of him ;■— and then, " Whose shall these things .be ?"— No longer his .— " When he dieth, he shall carry nothing away :'*— and if this is his all,— if he possesses nothing more permanent, no " durable riches and righ- teousness," no ^' house not made with hands eternal in the heavens," no *' inheritance incorruptible and un- defiled and that fadeth not away ;" — wo is me for the foolish man !— he has " laid up treasure for himself," but he is not *' rich towards God." The language of the Saviour to his poor people, " I know thy poverty, but thou art rich," may well be reversed to this victim of a pitiable and ruinous delusion, " I know thy riches,— but thou art poor!" Compare the description of Solomon's splendour with that of the '^ city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God!" — the city which he hath *•= prepared" for all his people, who " embrace his pro- mises, and confess themselves strangers and pilgrims on the earth :"— ** the holy city, the new Jerusalem ;" of which the foundations and walls are of precious stones, the gates of pearl, and the streets " of pure gold, as it were transparent glass ;" which is guarded by angels ; of which ^* the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple;" which *^has no need of the sun, neither of the moon to shine in it, for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof;" where there shall be no more night, and no more curse, but eternal unclouded day, and everlasting and unmingled blessing!* — Remember, my brethren, that the m^eanest saint on earth is a citizen of this heavenly Qiiy, and has a part in all this glory.— The " great buildings" on which the king of Israel ' See Rev. xtj. 10—27, xxii. 1-5. 7^ liECTURE lil. expended so much wealth, and skill, and labour, have long since fallen to ruin, and crumbled to dust ; and so, in succession, do all the monuments of earthly- grandeur : — " We build with what we deem eternal rock :-— A distant age asks where the fabric stood ; And in the dust, sifted and search'd in vain, The undiscoverable secret sleeps." But the structures of the Divine Architect shall never experience decay ; their glory shall never "tarnish ; their riches shall never be plundered ; their blessed inhabi- tants shall never be wasted by death, or scattered by- hostile invasion. The gardens and groves and pleasure-grounds of Solomon might be called by men an earthly paradise :•— but it was a paradise of sweets that soon cloyed, and failed to yield to their possessor the anticipated delight ; —atid like every thing earthly, it has passed away. His was the ^' time to plant;" and there came a time after him, " to pluck up that which was planted." But the paradise above, where flows the ^' pure river of water of life, clear as chrystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb," is a scene of delights, as^un- fading as they are pure and exquisite,— delights, that always satisfy and never satiate ; delights that shall be new through eternity, — continued enjoyment only stimulating the appetite, and enhancing the relish. Envy not, then, the possessor of the richest and loveliest in- heritance on earth. You have a better inheritance above. " To him that overcometh, will I give to eat of the Tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God." It is only through Jesus Christ that this final glory and blessedness can be obtained. It is by him that the way to the Tree of life has been opened, and " paradise ECCLES. II. 1 11. ^3 regained." The heavenly city has been reared in all its purity and splendour, for the habitation of his subjects t —the " everlasting inheritance'' is prepared in his name, and bestowed for his sake ; bestowed on all who are justified by his blood, and renewed and sanctified by his Holy Spirit. It is ^' the inheritance of the saints in light ;" and sinful creatures are not " made meet for it" till they are pardoned and purified. The city, " whose builder and maker is God," is a " holy city;" ** and into it nothing shall enter, that defileth, or that worketh abomination, or maketh a lie ; but they only who are written in the Lamb's book of life."* — Seek, then, my fellow-sinners, an interest in him. Believe his testimony ; follow his footsteps ; ^' live by the faith of the Son of God;" *^ no longer to yourselves, but to him who died for sinners and rose again." Let his grace be the ground of your hope ; his example your pattern ; his glory your end ; his love your motive ; his promi- ses your encouragement. Thus let it be your desire, that *^ whether you live you may live to the Lord, or whether you die you may die to the Lord ; that living and dying you may be the Lord's." And then, what= ever may be your condition here, whether rich and ho- noured as Solomon, or poor and despised as Lazarus, you shall be '^ heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ." — " Blessed are they that do his command- ments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city."t * Rev. x\\. 27. t Rev.srJi.l4. K LECTURE IV. EccLES. ii. 12 — 2Q. 12 ■" ^nd I turned myself to behold nvisdom, and madness, and Jolly t for tvhat (can) the man (do J that cometh after the king? (even J 13 that which hath been already done. Then I saw that wisdom excell- 14 eth folly t as far as light excelleth darkness. The wise man's eyes (are J in his head ; but the fool walketh in darkness : and I myself 15 fterceived also that one event hapfieneth to them all. Thni said I in my heart. As it hafifieneth to the fool, so it hafifieneth even to me ; and why was I then more wise? Then I said in my heart, that this also 16 (is J vanity. For (there is J no remembrance of the wise more than of the fool for ever ; seeing that which now (is, J in the days to come shall all be forgotten : and how dieth the wise (man ? ) as the fool. VI Therefore I hated life ; because the work that is wrought under the sun (is) grievous unto me: for all (is) vanity and vexation of 18 sfiirit. Yea, I hated all my labour which I had taken under the sun ; 19 because I should leaveit unto the man that shall be after me. And who knowethwhether he shall be a wise (man J or a fool ? yetshallye have ride overall my labour wherein I have laboured, and wherein I have 20 showed myself wise under the sun. This (is) also vanity. There- fore I went about to cause my heart to desfiair of all the labour which 21 I took under the sun. For there is a man whose labour (is) in wis- dom, and in knowledge, a7id in equity ; yet to a man that hath not laboured therein shall he leave it (for) his Jicrtion. This also (is J 22 vanity, and a great evil. For what hath a man of all his labour, and of the vexation of his heart, wherein he hath laboured under the 23 sun? For all his days (are) sorrows, and his travail grief ; yea, his 34 heart taketh not rest in the night. This is also vanity. (Inhere is J nothing better for a man, (than) that he should eat and drink, and Cthat) he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour. This also I 25 saw, that it (was) from the hand of God. For who can eat, or who 26 else can hasten (hereunto,) more than I? For ( God J giveth to a man that (is J good in his sight wisdom, and knowledge, and joy : but to the sinner he giveth travail, to gather, and to heap, up, that he may give to (him that is) good before God This also (is) vanity a?id vexation of spirit,'" 00000 ' OoLOMON had now made trial of human wisdom and science^ as an independent source of enjoyment ; of ECCLES. II. IS 26. 75 madness and folly, — thoughtless dissipation and mirth ; and of the luxuries and elegances, and other pleasures^ of riches and royalty. He had tried them separately ; and he had tried them together: and on all of them he had pronounced the verdict which he has here recorded, ©f " vanity and vexation of spirit.'* This trial, besides, had been made very completely, and with every possible advantage for its yielding the desired result : — " for what can the man do that cometh after the king? even that which hath been already done.'' - — Possessing "a wise and understandmg heart," no man could surpass him in extent and variety of know- ledge, or could prove the failure of his experiment upon it, to have been the consequence of limited and super- ficial information, and his unfavourable verdict there- fore mistaken and false : — and, exceeding in wealth and magnificence all the monarchs that had preceded him in the throne of Israel, and all the contemporaneous princes of the surrounding nations,— having thus fully in his power the means of obtaining every gratification of sense which his heart could desire, and unrestrained in his indulgences by the example or by the fear of su- periors ; by no man could the trial be more effectually made than it was by him, of " the lust of the eye, and the pride of life." He might be imitated, but he could hardly be excelled. But from what he had said it might appear to some, as if he considered all the things of which he had been speaking, as on the same footing of inefficiency and worthlessness ; — all equally vain, and equally vexatious^ — This, however, would be a great mistake. Earthly wisdom he had indeed affirmed to be " vanity and vex- ation of spirit," considered as constituting the happiness of man, — ^the portion of an immortal creature ; and 79 LECTURE IV. madness and folly he had included in the same verdict. But it by no means follows, that in his estimate they were equally so. — In the twelfth verse, he " returns" to contemplate the two, and to compare them ;— to view them, not each distinctly, but relatively to each other; not their respective claims to be acknowledged as the chief good, but simply their comparative titles to hu- man estimation and pursuit : — Verses 12, 13. " And I turned myself, to behold wis- dom, and madness, and folly : for what can the man do that Cometh after the king ? even that which hath been already done. Then I saw that wisdom excelleth folly, as far as light excelleth darkness." For the reason assigned, and on which we have briefly touched, namely, that his own experiment, on both sides of the question, was the completest that could be made; after having pushed it in each direction, to its utmost limits, he '* turns himself" to look back on what he had passed through ; he stops to reflect ; he puts the two things in the balance against each other ; and in verse 13th he gives his deliberate decision :—" then I saw, that wisdom excelleth folly, as far as light excel- leth darkness." It is evidently of the same kind of wisdom that he here continues to speak. It is not a declaration of the satisfying and unrivalled excellence of spiritual, hea- venly. Divine wisdom, but of the vast superiority even of human science, of the wisdom of earth, above igno- rant and thoughtless folly. Although in itself far from sufficient to be the portion, the happiness, of such a creature as man ; because it is not only accompanied in the acquisition a(nd possession of it, with a variety of peculiar griefs and sorrows, but it embraces not the Itivour of God, and leaves unprovided-for the interests ECCLES. II. ±2 — 26. 77 of the immortal soul ; yet it excels ignorance and folly '• as far as light excelleth darkness." — With light we invariably, — I might almost say instinctively, — asso- ciate the ideas of security, and order, and cheerfulness ; and with darkness the opposite ideas, of danger, and confusion, and melancholy. Wisdom excels folly in its own nature ; the furnishing of the mind with know- ledge being evidently much more accordant with the character and dignity of a rational creature, than leav- ing it empty, unimproved, and waste, dissipating its powers, and degrading its exalted capacities, in incon- siderate mirth and revelry, or in mere sensual and ani- mal gratifications. The pursuits of human science, al- though we pity the man who is destitute of the purer and sublimer joys of true religion, are yet productive of pleasures, high in order, and exquisite in degree. And the superior excellence of such wisdom is further apparent, from the counsel and direction which it affords to its possessor in all the affairs of daily life, — the good which it enables him to acquire, and the evil which it teaches him to avoid. Hence it is added, Verse 14. " The wise man's eyes are in his head, but the fool walketh in darkness : and I myself per- ceived also, that one event happeneth to them all." Wisdom possesses the same advantage over folly, that sight does over blindness. The wise man is like a person who has his eyes in a sound state, and has light at the same time to use them. The fool, on the contrary, resembles the man who is either destitute of the organs of vision, or to whom surrounding darkness renders them unavailing. The man of wisdom, having all his wits about him, in the full possession and the appropriate exercise of all his faculties, " guides his sffairs with discretioji," looks before him, thinks ma- 78 LECTURE IV. turely of what he is doing, and by his knowledge of men and things, is directed to the adoption of plans which promise to be profitable, and to the prudent and successful prosecution of them. He ^' foreseeth the evil, and hideth himself." He aims at worthy ends, and employs suitable means for their accomplishment. But the fool, — the ignorant and inconsiderate and improvi- dent nian, — is continually in danger of stumbling, or of going astray, like a person overtaken by darkness, who "knovveth not whither he goeth." He is ever prone to run blindly and heedlessly into absurd and in- jurious projects, or to destroy such as are in themselves good, by blundering in the execution of them. The fool's eyes, it is elsewhere said, are *^ in the ends of the earth," roaming vainly and idly abroad, without serving his present and needful purposes; — gazing, as the or- gans of a vacant mind, on far off objects, and allowing him to stumble over what is immediately in his way. Without foresight to anticipate probable evils, without even sagacity to avoid such as are present, the fool is in perpetual hazard of injuring and ruining both him- self, and all who are so unfortunate as to stand con^ nected with him, or to be exposed to his influence. Yet, whilst Solomon was not insensible to the pecu- liar and eminent advantages of wisdom over folly, there were, at the same time, some particulars in which the wise man and the fool stood entirely on a level : and the recollection and contemplation of these galled and mor- tified his spirit, and prevented his .deriving from his trial of wisdom even that measure of enjoyment, which it was fitted in its nature to bestow. It is in this temper of mind that he adds, in the remainder of this, and in the two following verses : — '• And" (or yet) " I myself perceived, that one eyent ECCLES. n. 12 — S6. 79 happeneth to them all. Then said I in ray heart, As it happeneth to the fool, so it happeneth even to me ; and why was 1 then more wise ? Then I said in my heart, that this also is vanity. For there is no remembrance of the v\ ise more than of the fool for ever ; seeing that which now is, in the days to come shall all be forgotten. And how dieth the wise man? as the fool." The expression, *' one event happeneth to them all," refers, not merely to the life of all coming to the same termination, but to the indiscriminate administration of Divine providence, in regard to temporal things, and the similarity of its general aspect towards good and bad, towards wise and foolish. It is the same sentiment which is afterwards more fully stated in the beginning of the ninth chapter : *• For all this, I considered in my heart, even to declare all this, that the righteous and the wise, and their works, (are) in the hand of God : no man knoweth either love or hatred (by) all (that is) be- fore them. All (things come) alike to all : (there is) one event to the righteous and to the wicked ; to the good, and to the clean, and to the unclean ; to him that sacri- ficeth, and to him that sacrificeth not : as (is) the good, so (is) the sinner ; (and) he that sweareth, as (he) that feareth an oath. This (is) an evil among all (things) that are done under the sun, that (there is) one event unto all : yea, also the heart of the sons of men is full of evil, and madness (is) in their heart while they live, and after that (they go) to the dead." When v.-e come to this passage, we shall have a more proper opportunity for considering particularly this view of the Divine providence ; a view, which at one time, you know, so agitated and unhinged the mind of the Psalmist Asaph, as almost to unsettle his confidence in the government, and the very existence, of the Divine 80 LECTURE IV. Being. His feet ivere almost gone, his steps had well nigh slipped : he was envious at the foolish, when amidst all their rebellious forgetfulness of God and pre-^ sumptuous impiety, their singular prosperity met his view, and was contrasted with the remarkable distresses of himself and others of God's people. I have said, the two passages express the same sen- timent. Perhaps this is scarcely correct. There is one essential difference between them. In the verses before us, it is not the case of the good and bad, the righteous and wicked, that is spoken of, but rather of the wise and foolish; wisdom and folly being understood in re- ference to the knowledge of earthly science, and to the concerns of time and of the present world. — The wise, with all their Information, and all-their sagacity, cannot, any more than the fool, control the course of providence. They are subject, in common with the weak, and igno- rant, and short-sighted, to all the diversified diseases, calamities, disappointments, and anxities of life. This Solomon had seen in the experience of others, and had also felt in his own ; and it filled him with impatience and fretfulness : — " then said I in my heart, As it hap- peneth to the fool, so it happeneth even to me; and why was I, then, more wise?" " Why was I more wise ?" — Why ! How apparently unreasonable and capricious the question ! Had he not just affirmed, that " wisdom excelleth folly as far as light excelleth darkness ?" Was there, then, no advan- tage ip the possession of wisdom ? — Ah ! my friends, this language affectingly shows the unsatisfactoriness of all earthly sources of enjoyment ; and the tendency of the human heart, when confined, in its desires and relishes, to such sources alone, to discontent, and mur- njuring. True, there were some points in which the ECCLES. II. 12 — 36. 8£ wise man excelled the fool ; but then, there were others in which he was nowise his superior : in which both were perfectly on a level ; and these were of such a na- ture that the mortitlcation arising from the equality more than neutralized, in Solomon's estimation, the advantage arising from the superiority. This bitter spoiled the sweet of all its relish ; so that he ** said in his heart," with fretful disappointment, " This also is vanity." One of the points of equality, by which his mind was peculiarly affected, was seen in the latter end of the wise man and the fool, and the forgetfulness and indif- ference of posterity as to both :— "for there is no re- membrance of the wise, more than of the fool for ever ; seeing that which now is, in the days to come shall all be forgotten : — and how dieth the wise man ? — as the fool." These words contain Solomon's estimate of posthu- mous fame. He must be considered as stating a general truth. Men, in anticipating futurity, vainly assign to themselves, and to one another, the lofty attribute of immortality. But how is the presumptuous expectation disappointed I '^ There is no remembrance for ever," —no everlasting remembrance, however often, and however fondly men talk of it, — " of the wise man more than of the fool." The stream of time, in a few gene- rations, carries down to the gulph of oblivion the names of both. It is singularly mortifying to reflect, how little, in a very short period, any man, however eminent may have been his reputation for wisdom, is missed in the world. For a while, a blank is felt. He is the theme of public praise ; and the tear of regret is shed, and the voice of lamentation is raised, over his tomb. But he is no sooner cut of sight, than he begins to be out of L §2 LECTURE IV. mind. He is less and less spoken of. The world appears to^go on without him, much as it did before. New ob- jects of attention and admiration arise, and the old ones are gradually forgotten. Of the thousands eminent in their day, who must have lived in ancient times, how few comparatively are there, whose very names have come down to us !— and even as to those that have beea saved from the general wreck of time, how very cir- cumscribed is the circle of their fame ! By the great mass of human society, by the immensely larger pro- portion of the population of the world, they have never been heard of: — their names, their works, and their sayings, are alike unknown.~The wisdom of Joseph saved the land of Egypt from impending ruin. Yet soon "another king arose, who knew not Joseph.'* Whilst the salutary effects of his counsel continued to be permanently felt, the counsel itself and the man who had given it were forgotten, and were miserably re- quited; and but for the inspired record in the holy Scriptures, we should scarcely, 1 presume, have heard of his name, even amongst the fables and uncertainties, and confused and mutilated facts, of remote tradition. —And of Solomon himself, the wisest of the wise, how little could we with certainty have known, had not his history been in a similar manner recorded, and his in- spired writings preserved ! ^* And how dieth the wise man?— as the fool." — To both, the event itself is equally certain : the wise cannot ward it off more than the fool. The time and the man- ner and the circumstances of it are to both equally un- certain : to the wise, as to the fool, it may be sudden or lingering, preceded and accompanied by the same varieties of pain and suffering, both being alike subject to all those diseases, by which fallen humanity is af- ECCLES. II. 12 — 36. 83 fiicted, and which to all in succession fulfil the original sentence, "Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt re- turn."— It is followed too, as to both, with the same humiliating effects. " They lie down alike in the dust, and the worms cover them." To both, the grave is equally narrow, equally cold, equally silent, and dark, and dreary. They rot alike into indiscriminate dust. And, as it is of secular wisdom Solomon is speaking, not of spiritual and saving knowledge, — in the depar- ture of both there is ground for the anxious and trem« bling forebodings of futurity, both being destitute of good hope. Thus Solomon " saw that wise men died, and that the fool and the brutish person perished ;" and his spirit was vexed and mortified. He hated life ; and all his labour, in the acquisition of his wisdom and of his general superiority to other men, seemed grievous, as having yielded him no solid or permanent satisfac- tion : — verse 17. " Therefore 1 hated life ; because the work that is wrought under the sun (is) grievous to me : for all (is) vanity and vexation of spirit." — Alas ! alas ! what is life my friends, without a contented mind ? and where is a truly contented mind to be found, except in the pious and believing reference of every thing to God, and making Him the chosen portion of the soul? Another reason for dissatisfaction with the results of all his varied labours in the pursuit of happiness, is as- signed in the following verses : — Verses 18—23. " Yea, 1 hated all my labour which I had taken under the sun ; because 1 should leave it unto the man that shall be after me. And who knoweth whether he shall be a wise (man) or a fool? yet shall he have rule over all my labour wherein I have laboured, and wherein 1 have showed myself wise under the sun. This (is) also vanity. Therefore I went about to cause 84 ' LECTURE IV. my heart to despair of all the labour which I took under the sun. For there is a man whose labour (is) in wis- dom, and in knowledge, and in equity ; yet to a man that hath not laboured therein shall he leave it (for) his portion. This also (is) vanity, and a great evil. For what hath man of all his labour, and of the vexation of his heart, wherein he hath laboured under the sun? For all his days (are) sorrows, and his travail grief; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the night. This is also vanity.'* " 1 hated all my labour which I had taken under the sun, because I should leave it to the man that shall be after me."— But why should this have so grieved thee, Solomon ? If thy heart had been right with God ; if He had been, as He ought to have been, thy chief joy, the treasure of thy soul ; if thy affections had been in heaven, and thy hopes full of immortality ;— the thought of parting with earthly possessions, with worldly gran- deur, with human admiration, could not have been thus vexing to thy spirit. It would not have distressed the feelings of piety, to anticipate the exchange of these for purer joys and sublimer honours; nor the feelings of generous benevolence, to think of leaving to another what thou couldest no longer enjoy thyself.— But alas! to the worlding, who seeks his portion in the present life, as Solomon was now doing, even the simple thought that all must be left, cannot but be, in the ex- treme, galling and disheartening. But there is something more here. They must not only be left, and left to another ; the character of the successor, and the use he is to make of them, are mat-, ters of vexatious uncertainty :— " And who knoweth, whether he shall be a wise man or a fool ? yet shall he have rule over all my labour wherein I have laboured, ECCLES. II. 12— S6. 85 und wherein I have showed myself wise, under the sun. This is also vanity." — If a man has a son to succeed to his wealth and honours, he may be a foolish son, without principle, and destitute of discretion and com- mon sense ; or, if there be about him promising symp- toms of wisdom, the very succession to riches and splendour may work, as experience shows it to have many a time done, a fatal change ; may frustrate a fa- ther's partial anticipations ; may intoxicate tiie youthful- heart, and effectually make a fool of the hopeful heir If a man have no son, and fixes the succession to hi« estates on one whom he esteems wise and prudent, capable of keeping them together and of using them to advantage, he may have been deceived by specious ap- pearances, assumed for the purpose of obtaining his good graces ; or the same change of character may be produced by actual change of condition, which we have supposed in the case of the son ; — and whosoever be the heir, sudden death may prevent his entering on his new inheritance, or may very soon transmit it again to other hands,— and these may be the hands of a fool- It is probable, that Solomon himself had no very flat- tering anticipations of the future character of his son and heir, Rehoboam, who very early made it manifest, that, along with the throne and the riches and the Royal magnificence of his father, he was very hr from inherit- ing his wisdom j the kingdom, at the very commence- ment of his reign, being divided by his haughty and headstrong folly, and a large portion of it alienated from the house of David. It was sadly mortifying to Solomon, then, to reflect, that the produce of ail his labour and of all his care, the wealth he had accumulated, the honours he had acquired, the splendours with which he had surrounded 86 LECTURE IV. himself, might come immediately into the possession of one'who might break the sceptre he had swayed amidst so much prosperity, might abuse and squander his pub- lic treasures and his private fortunes, might forfeit his honours and cover himself with contempt :— that such a one might *' have rule over all his labour wherein he had laboured, and wherein he had showed himself wise under the sun." So many circumstances thus concurring to impress on his mind the vanity of earthly things, and the false- hood of the promises of happiness held out by them, he began to bethink himself a little more gravely, and to renounce the pursuit |Of enjoyment from worldly i^ood, as desperate and hopeless : — '' Therefore I went about to cause my heart to despair of all the labour which I took under the sun."— The mode of expres- sion seems to imply, that this was no easy matter. His heart clung firmly to the world :— he could not bring himself to relinquish it : — yet when he considered and re-considered his experiment, as far as it had hitherto gone, he found it would not do. — And, amongst the views of the world, which were ever forcibly recurring to his mind, the last mentioned appears to have had a predominant influence. He repeats it : — " There is a man,"— (that is, the case is one which not unfrequently occurs, and Solomon himself was, in some respects, an instance of it,)—" There is a man who hath laboured in" (or according to) *' wisdom, and knowledge, and equity ; yet to a man who hath not laboured therein," (that is, not merely who hath entered on the posses- sion of what cost hmi no labour of his own, but who, in- stead of labouring in wisdom, and knowledge, and equity, has laboured in folly and ignorance and unrigh- teousness, and who continues to display the same cha- ECCLES. II. 12 — S6. 87 racter,) " shall he leave it for his portion." The entire produce of his prudent, and intelligent, and equitable diligence, becomes the portion of a foolish and a vicious man. " This," says he, ^' is vanity, and a great evil j" an evil which, in Solomon's experience, served to embitter all the satisfaction which a man can derive from his labours : — *' For what hath a man of all his la- bour, and of the vexation of his heart wherein he hath laboured under the sun ?" — When his course is thus brought to a close, and he leavesthe results of all his toils to another, " to the man that shall come after him," — *' what hath he?" — what reward,— what profit,— what compensation, for all his labour, all his anxiety, and care, and vexation of spirit ?— when his soul comes to be required of him," and the emphatical question is asked, *' whose shall those things be which thou hast provided ?" The twenty-third verse, " For all his days are sor- rows, and his travail grief; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the night : this is also vanity ;"— does not seem to be intended as a direct answer to the question which had just been asked, '* What hath man of all his labour, and of the vexation of his heart wherein he hath la- boured under the sun ?" — as if the wise man had said, He has only vexation ; ''^for all his days are sorrows, and his travail grief." It is rather designed, I think, to aggravate the evil, that all should have so unprofitable a termination :— '^ What hath he V— although *' all his days were sorrows, and his travail grief." W^hen he has thus spent his life, given his whole soul to the la- bours of this world, passed through days of sorrow and disquietude, toiled in carefulness and grief of spirit, and added to such days, nights of sleepless anxiety, or slumbers scared and disturbed with uaeasv dreams and 88 LECTURE IV. startling apprehensions ;— when, by such means, he has reali-zcdall that his heart was set upon, and filled others with wonder and envy at his success ;— '' What hath l^e ?"— When he comes to die, and to leave it all behind him, the poorest is as rich, and the meanest as mighty as he. Such is the termination, and such the fruit, of all iiis toils, and sorows, and solicitudes. Surely, then, " this is also vanity." Jt is but very mixed and unsa- tisfying enjoyment while it lasts ; sweet, with a large infusion of bitter ; — and the end of all is unprofitable and vexatious. Solomon had " gone about to make his heart to des- pair of all his labour under the sun," in pursuit of solid satisfaction from earthly things. In the verses which follow, he sets before us the proper use of the posses- sions of the present xvorld : — Verses 24—26. " (There is) nothing better for a man, (than) that he should eat and drink, and (that) he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour. This also I saw, that it was from the hand of God. For who can eat, or who else can hasten (hereunto,) more than I ? For (God) giveth to a man that (is) good in his sight, wisdom, and knowledge, and joy : but to the sinner he giveth travail, to gather and to heap up, that he may give to (him that is) good before God. ' This also (is) vanity and vexation of spirit." " There is nothing better." — Is this, then, the su- preme good? Docs tiie writer here speak absolutely? For an answer to such questions, we have only to look forward a little to the great general lesson, or moral, of the whole book ; chap. xii. 13. '' Let us hear the con- clusion of the whole matter : fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole (duty") (or ra- rher, the whole happiness) *' of man ;" — a lesson which ECCLES. II. 12 — 26. 8d is in harmony with the doctrine, on the same subject, of all the other Scriptures. ^'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge ; but fools despise wisdom and instruction." *^ The fear of the Lord is the begin- ning of wisdom ; a good understanding have all they that do his commandments." " Where shall wisdom be found ? and where is the place of understanding ?— God understandeth the way thereof, and he knoweth the place thereof. — And unto man he said, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to depart from evil is understanding."^ In the verses before us, Solomon must be understood as speaking of the way to derive from earthly things that kind and degree of enjoyment which they are ca- pable of affording. And this is, not to pursue them as our chief good : not to seek our happiness from them ; but, with a thankful, contented, and cheerful spirit, to receive and enjoy such a measure of them as God in his providence may be pleased to bestow. •' There is nothing better for a man," as to the things of time, " than that he should eat and drink," that is, that he should use the comforts and blessings which God confers, " and that he should make his soul en- joy good in his labour," maintaining an easy and satis- fied mind, without grudging and repining at what has been, or fretting with unhappy solicitude about what may be ; free from the irksome care about possessions already acquired, and from the toiling and anxious eagerness of those who " haste to be rich," whose de- sires are incessant for more, and more, and more ; their ideas changing and their ambition swelling as they ad- vance, and who are never, in any stage of their pro- gress, ^' content with such things as they have." This *rrov. i.7. Psal.-cxi. 10, Job. xxvlii. 23. M 90 LECTURE IV. is far from being the way to the true enjoyment even of this world. He enjoys it best, who receives its bless- ings, as from the hand of God, with a cheerful and thankful, but dependent and resigned spirit, who makes God himself, — not the temporary gift, but the Eternal giver, — his portion, and who has learned to be satisfied with whatever He is pleased to provide. This temper of mind is not in nature ; the lesson, as I have just hinted, must be learned:—'-^ This also I saw," says Solomon, " that it was from the hand of God." The meaning of this is, not merely that the bounties of providence are from the Divine hand ; but that from him proceeds a suitable temper, of mind for the true enjoyment of them ;— a grateful and contented spirit. This is from God. It is produced and main- tained by Divine influence ; and it imparts to the things of time a relish which can never be experienced by those who make them their portion.— Solomon's doc- trine of the necessity of this lesson being taught us by God, agrees with the experience of the apostle Paul, as given in his Epistle to the Philippians :— " Not that I speak in respect of want : for / have learned^ in what- soever state I am (therewith) to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound : everywhere, and in all things, I am instructedy both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ who strength- eneihme."* He " learned,^'' — he was ^' instructed ;''^— not merely informed of this state of mind being his duty, but effectually taught, by the grace of the Lord Jesus, to maintain it. The sentiment of the entire de- pendence of the creature on Divine Providence, of the peaceful serenity of mind arising from the habitual im- * Phil, iv.l 1—13. ECCLES. II. 13—26. 91 pression of it, and of God's being the Author of this contented and happy frame of spirit, is finely expressed by the Psalmist in the beginning of the 127th Psalm i — *^ Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it : except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh in vain. It is vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrows :— so he giveth his beloved sleep." He enables his children, the objects of his paternal love and care, to enjoy tran- quil and sound repose, neither abridged by the wake- fulness, nor disturbed by the scaring dreams of anxiety, by giving them to exercise a believing filial reliance upon himself, and impressing on their minds the vanity and utter fruitlessness of the most solicitous and drudg- ing labour without his blessing, and the abiding con- viction that his sovereignty cannot be controlled, that his wise administration cannot be improved, that his gracious and faithful promises cannot be falsified. His own experience served to satisfy him, that the happiness to be derived from the things of this world, depends entirely on the state of mind in which they are received and enjoyed, and that this state of mind is *' from the hand of God :" for if the varieties of earthly good had in themselves been capable of imparting true satisfaction, who could have found that satisfaction, if he failed of it? — ** for who can eat, or who else can hasten (hereunto,) more than I?" Who is there that can enjoy the delicacies and the luxuries of life more than 1?— what appetite can be more richly feasted, what taste, in all its capricious likings, more entirely indulged, than mine ? Or " who can hasten" more than I, to the enjoyment of the pleasures of sense, in all their variety?— who can seek them with more unremitting ardour? who can grasp them with a fonder avidity^ 92 LECTURE IT. who can possess them with a heart more set upon them, and more determined to make the most of them, than I ? And who can obtain them with greater facility ? — who can refine them to a higher excellence ? — who can multiply them to a richer abundance ?— Yet all would not do. They yielded me nothing that deserved the name of happiness. God must not only bestow them, but bestow along with them a right spirit in the recep- tion and estimation, the enjoyment and use of them, else they will be curses instead of blessings, fountains of bitterness rather than springs of pleasure. The true enjoyment, then, even of the things of the present world, is one of the peculiar advantages of God's people ; and the experience of Solomon confirms the saying of the apostle : — " Godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come."* Verse 26th. '^ For (God) giveth to a man that (is) good in his sight, wisdom, and knowledge, and joy : but to the sinner he giveth travail, to gather and to heap up, that he may give to (him that is) good before God. This also (is) vanity and vexation of spirit." " The man that is good in his sight," is th« man that is truly good ; good in the unerring estimate of the Divine mind ; whose " heart is right with God," and who is " steadfast in his covenant ;" who believes his word, trusts in his grace, and obeys his will, — *' doing justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with his God," — " denying all ungodliness and worldly desires, and living soberly, and righteously, and godly, in this present world ;" choosing God as his por- tion, •' glorifying him in his body and spirit which are bis," grateful for his kindness, submissive to his cor. " \ Tim. iv. 8, ECCLES. n. IS — 26. 93 rections, satisfied with the arrangements of his gracious providence, and with the provisions and proposals of his redeeming love. — To such a man, " God giveth wisdom and knowledge," by which he is enabled rightly to appreciate the comparative value of temporal and eternal things, to give the former their proper measure of regard, to " use them as not abusing them," reserving his heart for the latter and for God. In this way he giveth him also '* joy ;" the state of mind arising from this exercise of wisdom and knowledge being eminently favourable to the happy enjoyment of all the blessings of life, preserving equanimity, moderating and regulating the desires, and, by suppressing extra- vagant elation in prosperity, lightening the pressure of adversity, and tempering the otherwise overwhelming vexation of losses and disappointments, of frustrated schemes, and baffled exertions. " But to the sinner"— that is, to the man who is not *' good before God," whose spirit is not right with him, who " goes on frowardly in the way of his own heart," and " according to the course of this world ;" who " says to the Almighty, Depart from me, for I de- sire not the knowledge of thy ways ;" who, regardless of the obligations, and insensible to the pleasures, of religion, seeks his happiness in the creature and not in the Creator ; — *^ to the sinner he giveth travail, to gather and to heap up, that he may give to him that is good before God. This also is vanity and vexation of spirit." The meaning is, that all that Solomon had de- scribed, is the experience not of the good man, but of the sinner, — of the man who forgets and forsakes the Lord. This is the man, all whose labour is " travail." It is he that rises early, and sits up late, and eats the bread of sorrows. It is he that is sickened with cares. 94^ LECTURE IV. and harrassed by disappointments. His object is, and he toils hardly and restlessly for its attainment, *^ to gather and to heap up:'' and then, when he has gained his end, though never to his heart's content, he must leave all behind him ; and possibly, in the appointment of an all-wise providence, overruling every thing for the Divine glory, his accumulated treasures must be- come the portion of one whom of all others he most heartily dislikes,-— of a godly man, the object of his avowed and bitter scorn, but of God's approbation and regard ; who will devote his possessions to purposes of which his predecessor never dreamed, or which, if they ever crossed his thoughts, were instantly dismissed with banter and imprecation ; who will ** honour the Lord with his substance, and with the first fruits of all his increase." Solomon had remarked, in surveying the incidents and changes of human life, that the Su- preme Disposer frequently thus transferred the bounties of his providence, stored up by wicked means for wicked ends, from the sinner to the saint, from hands that un- worthily abused them, to hands that would apply them to their legitimate uses. It is God's doing. The sinner does not, of his own free will, relinquish his treasurest and give them over into the hands of the godly. No : what he acquired by travail he abandons with reluc- tance. They are not presented with his open hand, but wrenched from his tenacious grasp. He holds them while he can, and only parts with them from an indig- nant feeling of necessity.— With respect to the travail and anxiety of labouring for earthly good, Solomon's experience, whilst he was departing from God, had of course been that of '^ the sinner ;" and it was all " va- nity and vexation of spirit." The great moral of the whole of this chapter is con- ECCiiES. II. 13 — S6. 95 tained in these concluding verses. These form the prac- tic;;] improvement of the discoveries made by the writer, in his experiments on earthly wisdom, on madness and folly> f.«n sensual gratification, luxurious elegance, and voluptuous retineilient, considered as independent sources of happiness to man. In this view of them, they are all pronounced vanity; incapableof yielding true and substantial felicity :--and he here teaches the important secret, of extracting from earthly things the full propor- tion of sweetness which they are capable of affording. Let us learn, my brethren, to make a proper discri- mination even amongst secular pursuits. Wisdom, or science, even when considered as exclusive of godli- ness, is, in its nature and uses, decidedly superior to sensual pleasure ; and that too, although in the pursuit and enjoyment of the latter there may be no particularly sinful excess. But still, neither of them will do, to be the substance of happiness, the " one thing needful," the portion of the soul ; — nor will earthly things, of any description, yield their sweets to their possessor, till they have ceased to be looked upon at all in this light. — Forget not, my Christian brethren, the higher and no- bler objects of desire and pursuit, which your Divine Master sets before you, and charges you to mind : — *' If ye, then, be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affections on things above, not on things on the earth. For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory."*— O keep these objects of blessed hope con- tiuually before your view. In proportion to the force and the constancy of their influence on your affections, ♦ Col. iii, 1—4. 95 LECTURE IV. will be your equanimity amidst the changes of this fluc- tuating world, from good to evil, and from evil to good, and the correspondence of your tempers and deportment to the spirit of the apostolic admonition :— '^ But this, I say, brethren, the time is short : it remaineth, that both they that have wives be as though they had none ; and they that weep as though they wept not, and they that rejoice as though they rejoiced not, and they that buy as though they possessed not, and they that use this world as not abusing it ; for the fashion of this world passeth away."* — The more habitually our desires are elevated to the things that are unseen and eternal, the less will the vicissitudes of those that are seen and tem- poral, be found capable of aflPecting our real happiness. Assigning to them their proper place, and expecting from them no more than they are fitted to produce, we shall be free from the disappointments of those who look to them for what they never can yield. Laying our ac- count with one day leaving them, we shall not be con- founded, as by an event on which we had not at all cal- culated, if, in the providence of God, they should leave us, " making to themselves wings and flying away, as an eagle towards heaven." The knowledge that we " have in heaven a better and more enduring substance,'- will make our worldly bereavements comparatively light. ** Confessing ourselves strangers and pilgrims on the earth," we shall still look for the '^ better country, even the heavenly." And, " all things working together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose," our temporal loss will be our spiritual gain :— " our light affliction, which is but for a moment, will work out for us a far more exceed- ing and eternal weight of glory." ♦ 1 Cor. vii. 29-31. ECCLES. II. 12 — S6. 97 And O ! let " the sinner" seriously contemplate his future prospects. Let him " consider his latter end." All that you are labouring for you must very soon re- linquish, — leaving every shred behind you. And quickly as that inevitable and final separation must come, you have no security for your retaining your ac- quisitions even till then. God is at this moment, in these times of general calamity and privation, reading to you, and to all, a most impressive lesson of their precariousness. You are ^' setting your eyes on that which is not ;" — that which is so uncertain, so fleeting and transient, as hardly to be allowed the attribute of existence. You are eagerly coveting, and fondly at. taching yourselves to a nonentity, — an empty unsub- stantial shadow, which, ere your eye has glanced upon it, flits from before you. You are treasuring up "trifles light as air," and as unstable as they are light, which every shifting wind of fortune^ (to borrow your own Heathen phraseology,) may blow for ever away. — And O, for your sakes, that this were all .'—that the mere loss of these trifles were the amount of the evil that shall arise from a life devoted to the pursuit of them ! But, whilst you are living " without God in the world," estranging your hearts from him and giving them to the creature, preferring to his service the service of mam- mon, seeking the gift and forgetting and rebelling against the giver, abusing the bounties of his provi- dence, (for all is abused that is not consecrated in the use of it, by religious principle, to the honour of the Divine Benefactor,) and slighting and refusing the offered blessings of his grace :~whilst you are living thus, you are engaged in a much more lawful employ- ment than the laying up of trifles for future loss ; — -you N 98 LECTURE IV. are ^^ treasuring up unto yourselves wrath against the day' of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God."*— O deceive not yourselves with the fancy, that because you " labour in equity ^^"^ as well as " in wisdom and knowledge," defrauding no man, but giv- ing every one his due ; and because you '* run not to the excess of riot," but are decent and sober-living men, — that therefore there is no danger. There is dan- ger, imminent and awful danger, if, in the midst of all your equity and sobriety, the world has your hearts, and not God; if you are living to yourselves ; if your conduct is not influenced and guided by religious prin- ciple, by the faith, and the fear, and the love of God. *' Ye cannot serve God and Mammon," is the unequi- vocal and unqualified declaration of the Lord of Chris- tians ; and of the two services it is only the service of God that can end well. Loss, and shame, and misery, will be the issue of the one ; gain, and glory, and blessedness, the eternal reward of the other. Be per- suaded, then, to embrace this holy and happy service. Be persuaded to seek something better and more lasting than this world can afford you ;_to seek an ever-during portion in the love of God, and all the blessings which it confers on its favoured objects, through Jesus Christ our Lord. An interest in this love, and in these bless- ings, is the only way to the true and satisfying enjoy- ment even of the present world. Listen, then, to the voice of Divine Wisdom :— " Receive my instruction, and not silver ; and knowledge rather than choice gold. For wisdom is better than rubies ; and all the things that may be desired are not to be compared to it." "Riches and honour arc with me, yea, durable riches * Rom. ii. 5. ECCLES. II. 12 — SO. 99 and righteousness. My fruit is better than gold, yea, than fine gold, and my revenue than choice silver, I lead in the way of righteousness, in the midst of the paths of judgment: that I may cause those that love me to inherit substance ; and I will fill their trea» sures."* * Prov. viii, 10, 11, 18—21 LECTURE V EccLEs. iii, 1 — 15. 1 " To every f thing t/itrc is J a season, and a time to every fiur/iost' 2 under the heaven : a time to be born, and a time to die : a time Ai 3 plant, and a time to filuck up (that which is J planted ; a time to kill, and a time to heal: a time to break down, and a time to build 4 tifi : a time to wee/i, and a time to laugh : a time to mourn, and a 5 time to dance : a time to cast away stojies, and a time to gather stones together: a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from em- 6 bracing: a time to get, and a time to lose: a time to keep, and a 7 time to cast away : a time to rend, and a time to sew : a time to keep 8 silence, and a time to speak : a time to love, and a time to hate : a 9 time of war and a time of peace. What profit hath he that worketh 10 in that wherein he laboureth ? I have seen the travail which God 11 hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it. He hath made every f thing J beautiful in his time : also he hath set the world in their heart ; so that no 7nan can find out the work that God maketh 12 from the beginning to the end. I know that f there is J no good in 13 them, but for (a man) to rejoice, and to do good in his life. .4nd also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all 14 his labour, it (is) the gift of God. I know that whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever : nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it; and God doeth (it,) that (men) should fear before 15 him. That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath al- ready been ; and God requireth that ivhich is past." J. 0 the right understanding and interpretation of an author's language, nothing is of more essential conse- quence than a due consideration of his leading design, — the general scope and object of his performance. The great lesson which this book is intended to elucidate and impress, is the vanity of the attempt to find true happiness from any of the sources of mere worldly en- joyment. To this purpose the verses with which this chapter commences are, in one view of their meaning. ECCLES. III. 1 15. lOi remarkably appropriate ; and this of itself is a very con- elusive evidence of that view being right. They teach the two following important truths : — in the first place, that the concerns of the present world are, beyond ex- pression, unstable and fluctuating; and, secondly, that all its incessant vicissitudes are so regulated and de- termined by the uncontrollable purposes of the Su- preme will, that no human sagacity can foresee and prevent them ; *' the times and seasons being kept in his own power," by him who says, "My counsel shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure." Such considera- tions impressively teach us, on the one hand, the folly of saying, in such a world, we shall never be moved 5 and the wisdom, on the other, of anticipating such changes as may be appointed and inevitable ; of accom- modating readily to the shifting scenes of life the state of our feelings and desires ; of conducting ourselves with propriety in all the varying circumstances of our condition ; and of never resting on such uncertainties as the basis of our felicity. Keeping these general observations in mind, let us briefly glance at the different particulars enumerated in the first eight verses. Verse 1st. " To every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the sun." The preceding remarks will have led you to antici- pate, that I consider these words, containing the gene- ral sentiment of which the seven subsequent verses set forth varied exemplifications, as referring to the all-di- recting providence of God ; whose procedure is not the random, and capricious, and unsteady course (if a course it should be called) of short-sighted ignorance and fickle imbecility ; but the wise, and regular, and well-ordered administration of One^ who " knows the 103 LECTURE V. end from the beginning," to whom there is no unanti- cipilted contingency, and whose omniscient eye, in the midst of what to us appears inextricable confusion, has a thorough and intuitive perception of the endlessly di- versified relations and tendencies of all events and all their circumstances, discerning throughout the whole, the perfection of harmony. — In the all-wise providence of God, then, — " to every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the sun." He begins his enumeration of particulars with the commencing and the terminating boundaries of life, be- tween which all must be done, and enjoyed, and suf- fered, that is done, enjoyed, and suffered, under the sun : — There is " a time to be born, and a time to die." — - The moment is predetermined, of every man's entering into the world ; and the moment is also fixed, by the same sovereign purpose, at which he is to leave it. When a child is born, no one can affirm how long it is to continue here. It may be an hour, or it may be "threescore years and ten." The first breath is no se- curity for the next. The time and the circumstances of its future departure are known to God alone, the Author and the Supporter of its bemg. All that ive can with certainty say, is, "there is a time to die." To all, the event is equally sure ; and to all, the period of its arrival is equally a secret. And, when that period does arrive, the wish and the attempt to evade it are to all equally vain. " No man hath power over the spirit to retain the spirit;" — no, not for a moment.— How foolish, then, must it be for us, to sit down at our ease to enjoy the world, as if we had the time of our con- tinuance in it in our own power, when, in truth, we are so completely tenants at willy and may be called to quit ECCLES. III. 1 15. 103 cn a moment's notice. — " Is there not an appointed time to man on the earth ? are not his days also as the days of a hirehng?" Yes ; but with this difference, that the hireling knows the period of his service ; whereas, of the duration of his, man is left in utter uncertainty. ** His days are determined" indeed ; but " the number of his months is with God : God hath appointed his bounds, that he cannot pass ;" and he may come upon the invisible limit, the unseen line which separates time from eternity, ere he is at all aware of his being near it. There is " a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted." By some these words are understood metaphorically, of the dispensations of providence towards families and nations ; agreeably to a use made of the same and simi- lar figures in some other parts of Scripture. Thus God says to his ancient people, by the prophet Jeremiah, chap, xviii. 6 — 10. " O house of Israel, cannot I do with you as this potter ? saith the Lord. Behold, as the clay (is) in the potter's hand, so (are) ye in my hand, 0 house of Israel. (At what) instant I shall speak con- cerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and to pull down, and to destroy (it :) if that nation, against whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil, 1 will repent of the evil that I thought to do unto them. And (at what) instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to build, and to plant (it:) if it do evil in my sight, that it obey not my voice, then I will repent of the good wherewith I said I would benefit them." But although the words, thus understood, express an important truth, a truth of a higher order than their li- teral meaning suggests, yet, I am disposed to think, that the literal meaning is the true one, and that there 104 LECTURE y. is a direct reference in them to a part of Solomon's va- rious labours, as described by him in the preceding chapter: "I made me great works: I builded me houses ; I planted me vineyards ; I made me gardens and orchards, and I planted trees in them of all kinds of fruits ; I made me pools of water, to water therewith the wood that bringeth forth trees." — Thus Solomon planted: and thus many, possessing the means, along with the taste and inclination, planted before him, and have planted aftei him. But the " time to plant" is fol- lowed by the " time to pluck up." The planter liim^ self, from change of circumstances, from alteration of taste, from caprice, or from necessity, may undo his own work : — a period of growth too arrives, at which wood, of all varieties, is cut down for profit, or rooted out for fruitlessness : — and no man, when he plants, can be sure, how soon the blasting influences of an unpro- pitious season may oblige him to pluck up his young favourites ; or whether his successor may not disap- prove his plans, and immediately on obtaining the in- heritance, overturn all his labours. And, should they be spared for a time, some one, at a later period, from taste or from, avarice, may convert the. sylvan into ara- ble, or, (what is still more deplorable, but not unfre- quent,) may lay wa^te his plantations to discharge the debts of profligacy. "A time to kill, and a time to heal:" that is, say some, a time when God kills, and a time when he keeps alive ; a time when he brings to the grave, and a time when he heals and brings back from the very verge of it. I have no objection to this explanation ; only I think it should be understood with reference to the ministry or agency of man ; and that too, not to his killing by violence^ but to killing, as opposed to healing, ECCLES. III. 1—15. 10;5 —both sides of the alternative relating to the same case." There is a time, when all the means that men can de- vise and employ will prove ineffectual for the preserva- tion of life ; nay, when they may even have a prejudi- cial and deadly influence :— and there is a time, accord- ing to the unknown purpose of God, when the same means will operate like charms, will check and turn the ebbing tide of life, and bring back the exhausted and despaired-of patient from the last extremity. All de- pends on the purpose and appointment of God. Let none foolishly abuse this important truth ; a truth which ought never to be absent from the mind of a dependent creature. Let none interpret it as fatalism, and hastily infer the uselessness and impiety of employing means at all. For, ahhough there is, "a time to kill," there is also " a time to heal." Previously to the use of means, the result is known only to God ; and to us it belongs, to employ, with gratitude and prayer, such as skill and experience have pronounced to be suitable, and look up to God, in the spirit of faith and submission, for the blessing that is necessary to their healing efficacy. It was not the sin of Ahaz, that in his distress he " looked to the physicians," but that he " did not look to the Lord." " A time to break down, and a time to build up."— Even of those cities which Solomon himself " built up," there were some which in Divine providence had pre- viously been " broken down by hostile violence."* He built up also the wall of Jerusalem ; which was again broken down at the captivity; and, after the appointed years of desolation, built up anew at the return from Babylon; and at last thoroughly overthrown, in the days of final vengeance on the rebellious city. One * See 1 King's ix. 15 — 17. o i06 LliCTURE V. hour of Divine judgment, or of human violence, may break down what it has cost the labour of many years to build. " Forty and six years," said the taunting Jews to Jesus, "was this temple in building:" — but when God's day of threatened vengeance arrived, in how much shorter time were its massy and stupendous structures levelled with the dust, and the prediction verified, that one stone should not be left upon another! = — Solomon had " made him great works, and builded him houses." But he knew not, when he had finished them, how long each was destined to stand. Violence might soon lay them in ruins; change of circumstances might induce, or might oblige, himself or his succes- sors in the throne, to pull them down ; and, at any rate, a time was to come when they should yield to the dila- pidating influence of age, should totter to their fall, and be removed from a sense of danger. *' A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance." These two clauses of verse 4th are evidently of syno- nimous import. There is a time when, by private or by public calamities, the Sovereign ruler calls to weep- ing and mourning ; sometimes " suddenly as in a mo- ment," without previous admonition, and contrary to all human expectation. In such a time, mirth and dancing are forgotten ; or if not, they are fearfully un- seasonable, incongruous, and profane : — " In that day did die Lord of hosts call to weeping and to mourning, and to baldness, and to girding with sackcloth : and behold joy and gladness, slaying oxen, and killing sheep, eating fiesh and drinking wine : let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we shall die. And it was revealed in mine ears by the Lord of hosts, Surely this iniquity shall not be purged from you till ye die, saith the Lord ECCLTIS. III. 1 15. 107 of hosts."*— There is, on the other hand, a time when the scene changes ; when the light of prosperity rises over the darkness of affliction ; when God " turns men's mourning into dancing," " takes off their sackcloth, and girds them with gladness." — And then, anon, when, forgetting, as they are ever prone to do, the inconstancy of prosperity, and letting slip the salutary lessons of their previous tribulation, they begin, in the thought- lessness of gaiety, to say, *' we shall never be moved," he again " hides his face, and they are troubled." — Job was a happy father, and a rich and healthy and honoura- ble man, '*the greatest of all the men of the East:" — Job became by the sudden visitations of God, childless and pennyless, tormented with disease, an alien to his friends, wronged, insulted, and desolate ; *' his harp was turned to mourning, and his organ to the voice of them that weep :" — and again the season came round, when the Lord " turned the captivity of Job," and ^^ blessed his latter end more than his beginning." " A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together:" — not, surely, for the purpose of or- dinary building ; for that had been already mentioned. The reference seems to be, to the rearing of memorials of covenants between parties, and of remarkable cir- cumstances or events. Such were the pillar erected by Jacob, and the heap of stones piled up by him and La- ban, and consecrated by the solemnities of oath and sa- crifice, to be the boundary of pledged and covenanted peace between them.f Such were the twelve stones taken from the midst of Jordan, when " its waters were cut off before the ark of the covenant," and set up by Joshua, as a memorial to future generations, of the power, and goodness, and faithfulness of Jehovah.J * Isa. xxli. 12—14, f Gen. xxxi, 44— 55, 4 Josh iv. 1—9. 108 LECTURE V. And such uere the tumuli of stones raised over Achail, and over Absalom.* Other instances will occur to the recollection of the readers of the Bible ; nor has the practice, even in the rude form in which it most fre» quently appears in Scripture history, been at all pecu- liar to any one nation. — There is a time, then, when covenants are made, and a time when they may come to be disregarded and violated, or to be mutually relin- quished by the parties, and the memorials of them thus rendered useless. There is a time, when trophies of ■victory and triumph are erected, and a time when the stones of them are thrown down and scattered ; when the victors in their turn become the vanquished, and defeat and shame take the place of conquest and honour; when those who dislike the events, destroy their me- morials. *' A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from em^ bracing." — There is a time, when the fondness of faith- ful and fervent friendship bestows its caresses, and re- ceives them in return with reciprocal sincerity and de- light; and a time when the ardour cools, when profes- sions fail ; when the friend of our bosom's love proves false and hollow-hearted, and the sight of him produces only the sigh and the tear of bitter recollection ; we re- frain from embracing, because our embrace is not re- turned.-—There is a time, when the man whom God has blessed rejoices with the wife of his youth, when ^'the candle of the Lord shines upon his head," when all is prosperity and cheerfulness, and when the hal- lowed endearments of connubial affection are enjoyed with mutual transport ;— and a time, when '^ the light is dark in his tabernacle," when the visitations of God have burdened his spirit with care and grief, when • Josh, vli. 26. 2 Sam. xviii. \7, 18. ECCLES. III. 1—15. 109 even such pleasures lose their wonted relish, when to enjoy them as before would be insensibility to the feel- ings alike of nature and of piety. — There is a time when the heart of a father exults over ^^a wises on," when he presses him to his bosom in the embrace of cordial approbation, and, smiling upon him through tears of sweet affection, experiences all a father's joy, and indulges, in visions of anticipation, all a fiither's hopes ; — and a time, when the smile and the embrace must be reluctantly withheld, when approbation must give place to reproof, when the •' foolish son becomes the heaviness of his mother," when the heart is wrung with agony, and the blessed visions of hope are suc- ceeded by the dark forebodings of despondency and dread. ^^ A time to get, and a time to lose." — Does this re- quire any comment at present, my friends, when proofs of it so numerous are before your daily view ? There is a time, when industry is successful, when business prospers, when the tide of prosperity flows without in- terruption, and wealth seems to come spontaneously ;— " a time to get." But by and by a turn takes place in the tide, and there comes " a time to lose." All is un- propitious. Nothing does well. Sudden and unlooked- for reverses take away at once the produce of manv years of industrious application ;— or a continued run of ill fortune, as the world call it, but in which the man of piety will mark and acknov.'ledge the orderings of providence, drains it off by slow but sure degrees. Riches, which have been accumulated during a long period of persevering labour, " make to themselves wings and fly away as an eagle towards heaven ;"— got^ ten in years,— lost in a day :— or a fortune obtained at once, is no sooner in possession^ than it begins to di- ilO LECTURE V. minish ; the " time to lose" commences, and ceases not ' till all is gone, — and gone, it can hardly be told how. " A time to keep, and a time to cast away :"— a time, when particular earthly possessions give us plea- sure, and we keep them ; and a time when, from sa- tiety, or change of taste and character, they cease to please, and we cast them away : — a time when the bounties of heaven are retained with gratitude, as valu- able and useful ; and a time when duty may require us to relinquish all that we have, that we may not violate the dictates of conscience, or incur the forfeiture of more precious and more lasting blessings ; — or when life comes to be in danger, and for its preservation, pro- perty of every kind will be readily thrown away from us, as, in the comparison, unworthy of a moment's thought.— Thus, many have made a cheerful sacrifice of things seen and temporal for the sake of things un- seen and ecernal ; and many more have shown the truth of the proverb, " all that a man hath will he give for his* life." — Paul ^' counted all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord;" nay, " suffered for him the loss of all things, and counted them but dung that he might win Christ, and be found in him." The believing Hebrews *' took joyfully the spoiling of their goods, knowing in themselves, that they had in heaven a better and an enduring substance." On the voyage of the apostle to Rome, the wheat was cast out into the sea, and the tackling of the ship fol- lowed it, to lighten the vessel during the raging storm ; and whatever property had been on board would have shared th.e same fate, M'hen life was in jeopardy. — What changes do varying circumstances produce in the value we attach to our possessions ! All such value ECCLES. III. 1-— 15. Ill is relative. We keep the smaller blessing, when it docs not come into competition with the greater, but when the former cannot be kept, but at the hazard, and far more at the certainty, of losing the latter, it is " a time to cast away." ''A time to rend, and a time to sew." This does not seem to mean merely that garments, carefully and skillfully sewed, will in time wear, and become fit for nothing but being rent in pieces for other purposes. There appears to be a reference to the practice, so often exempHfied in the history, and alluded to in the other parts of Scripture, of rending the garments, as an ex- pression of strong emotion, especially of grief and vexation of spirit. — Thus, Reuben rent his clothes, when he found not Joseph in the pit ; and his agonized fither, when he saw the bloody vestment of his fa- vourite son.* — David rent his clothes, when he mourn- ed for Saul and Jonathan ; when he followed the bier of the murdered Abner ; and when he received the false intelligence of the slaughter of all his sons by the rebe! Absalom. t — Eliphaz, and Bildad, and Zophar, at the distant sight of their sadly altered friend, " lifted up their voices, and wept, and rent every one his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon their heads towards heaven. ":[: —The high priest Caiaphas, in real or feigned emotion of indignant grief, rent his clothes, when Jesus owned himself the Son of God, and announced his coming in the clouds of heaven, and sitting on the right hand oi' power. H— The instances of the practice, indeed, are fre- quent;—and, with allusion to it, God, by the prophet Joel, thus calls Israel to repentance, and warns them against the hypocrisy of the outward token, without * Gen. xxxvii. 29, 34, f 2 Sam. i. 11. lii, 31. xui, 3!. + Jobii.l2. II Matt.xxvi. 65. 112 LECTURE V. the inward feeling : " Turn ye even to me with all your heart, and with fasting, and with weeping, and with mourning ;— and rend your hearts, and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God ; for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kind- ness, and repenteth him of the evil."*— There were times, then, of ordinary health and enjoyment, when clothes were made, and worn ; and there were times of calamity and grief, when they were rent asunder. Even the garments of festivity, and the robes of roy- alty, were not exempted from such deforming violence ; prosperity, and honour, and power, affording no secu- rity from change and suffering. " A time to keep silence, and a time to speak." — There is a time to keep silence, from disinclination to speak ; and a time when speaking would be dangerous or hurtful, and silence is imposed by prudence and necessity. — There is a time when affliction strikes us dumb ; when the spirit is oppressed, and the opening of the mouth to speak is an unwilling and painful effort : and there is a time of deliverance, when the heart is lightened, and the lips are opened to utter the praises of the Lord, to tell of his kindness, and to join in the cheerful conversation of life. All are sensible, that si- lence is one of the natural expressions of heavy afflic- tion of heart, and that clamorous sorrow is seldom deep. — ^' Assemble yourselves, and let us enter into the de- fenced cities, and let us be silent there ; for the Lord our God hath put us to silence, and given us water of gall to drink, because we have sinned against the Lord."t " It is good for a man that he bare the yoke in his youth. He sitteth alone, and keepeth silence, because he hath borne it upon him."| " I was dumb with silence; I ♦ Joel ii. 12, 13. t Jer. viii. 14. t Lam. iii. 27, t:8 ECCLES. III. 1 i5. 113 held my peace, even from good ; and my sorrow was stirred."* — Again : — there are times of cordial friend- ship, and unanimity, and safety, when there is room for open confidence, and unreserved communication ; and there are times of alienation, division, and danger, when the lips must be sealed, and silence is the only security ; when life, and all that a man holds dear, may be jeo- parded by a whisper. *' Therefore the prudent shall keep silence in that time ; for it is an evil time."f " Trust ye not in a friend, put ye not confidence in a guide ; keep the doors of thy mouth from her that lieth in thy bosom. For the son dishonoureth the father, the daughter riseth up against her mother, the daughter- in-law against her mother-in-law ; a man's enemies are the men of his own house. "J *^ A time to love, and a time to hate." It ought to have been remarked earlier, as one of the necessary principles of interpretation for these verses, that Solomon is not to be considered as speaking of what God allowed, or approved, in the conduct of men ; of times when all these things might lawfully be done. He speaks merely of times when there is oc- casion, or necessity, for them, or of powerful tempta- tion, if the things are wrong in themselves, to the doing of them. — There is a time to love ; a time, that is, when we experience treatment of which the tendency is to excite gratitude and affection ; — treatment, of which love is the suitable return : — and there is a time to hate 5 — not when hatred becomes a right and justi- fiable feeling; for the law of God expressly prohibits our " hating our brother in our heart, or bearing any inward grudge against him," and commands us to " love not our neighbour only, but our enemy ; to * Psal, xxxis, 2- f Amos v. IS, t Xlicah vii. 5, 6 P 114 LECTURE V. bless them that curse us, to do good to them that hate us, and to pray for them that despitefuUy use us, and persecute us ;"*— but a time when the conduct of others towards us is such as tends to engender hatred, to em- bitter and alienate our spirits ; when even the objects of our love may become the objects of our dislike and aversion. — The words, indeed, are general, and may include the feelings of others toward us, as well as ours toward them. ^' There is a time to love ;" when we may be the objects of the favourable regard of others ; — ^' and a time to hate ;" when we may be the victims of their unmerited enmity. ** A time of war, and a time of peace :" — a time when, through the " lusts that war in men's members," overruled by the providence of God, " wars and fight- ings" arise ; when a nation must defend itself, or pe- rish ; when the church of God is persecuted and wasted by an ungodly world ; when individuals, however de- sirous to " live peaceably with all men," find it impos- sible ;— *' they are for peace ; but, when they speak, others are for war :"f — and a time, when Jehovah " breaketh the bow, cutteth the spear in sunder, burneth the chariot in the fire, and maketh wars to cease to the ends of the earth ;"--when smiling peace returns to bless a harassed and exhausted land; when the churches have rest, and are edified, and, '* walking in the fear of God, and in the comforts of the Holy Ghost, are mul- tiplied ;" when the desires of the man of quietness are gratified, when God " makes even his enemies to be at peace with him,", and gives him the hearts of those that hated him. Considering, theti, this instability and incessant fluc- tuation of earthly affairs, which, beginning with the * Lev. xis. 17, 18, Matt, v. 44 i Psal.csx. 7. ECCLES. III. 1— -15. 115 '* time to be born," continue to present a scene of per- petual insecurity and change, till the " time to die ;" and, considering that all is in the hand of God, all un- der his sovereign control, who has said, " My counsel shall stand, and 1 will do all my pleasure:" — Solomon repeats the question, which he had asked repeatedly before, *•' What profit hath he that worketh, in that wherein he laboureth ?"* — and confirms the sentence of " vanity," which this question involves, by a re- newed appeal to his own extensive experience and ob- servation : — verse 10. " I have seen the travail which God hath given to the sons of men, to be exercised in it." He had himself seen all that he had just enumerated. He had seen many born, and many, at every period of life die ; — he had seen trees planted by one man, and rooted up by another, or even by the planter himself; — at one time, he had seen life preserved with little diffi- culty, and, at another, all human means expended in vain ; — he had himself broken down what others had built up, and built up what others had broken down ;— he had seen festivity and gladness turned suddenly to sackcloth and ashes, and he had seen " weeping endure for a night, and joy come in the morning;"— he had seen covenants ratified and memorials of them erected, and covenants annulled or broken, and their memorials overthrown ; trophies of triumph reared, and anon the victors vanquished, and their trophies laid in the dust, and swept into oblivion ; — he had seen the delights of friendship and love enjoyed in their full perfection, with a free and bounding spirit, and he had seen even these delights for a time deprived of their relish ; — he had seen fortunes made, and fortunes lost ; possessions retained , * Chap. ii. 23. i. 3. 116 LECTURE V. for a while with solicitous vigilance, and then relin- quished for a good conscience, or cast away for self- preservation ; — he had seen times of talkative pros- perity, succeeded by seasons of speechless distress; and times of safety, and openness, and confidence, by pe- riods of peril, and secrecy, and apprehension ; — he had seen times of kindness and gratitude, and times of un- kindness and alienation ;— he had seen the bloody wars of his flither David, followed by the promised tran- quillity of his own reign. In the midst of this perpetual vicissitude, the minds of men may often be perplexed and at a stand. It may seem to their eyes, a scene of inextricable confusion. But it is not so to the eye of Him who superintends and directs the whole : — Verse 11. " He hath made every thing beautiful in his time : also he hath set the world in their heart ; so that no man can find out the work that God raaketh, from the beginning to the end." *' He hath made every thing beautiful in his" (or its) " season." — This phraseology is evidently to be connected with the first verse of the chapter, and it confirms the interpretation given of it, as having refer- ence to the arrangements of Divine providence. '^ To every thing there is a season ;" and He by whom the ^' times and seasons" are fixed, orders them all accord- ing to his infinite wisdom. All is beautiful harmony ; " All chance, direction which we cannot see." Set down a man ignorant of mechanics in the midst of a system of extensive and complicated machinery ; and he will gaze about him in vacant wonder, all appearing to his dizzy and stupified sight, involved and intricate perplexity. But introduce an experienced machinist ; EccLES. ni. 1 — 15. 117 and by the hasty glances of a few moments, he discerns the proportions, and relations, and mutual dependen- cies of all the parts, — the connexion of the whole with the great moving power, and its perfect adaptation to a proposed end ; and his mind is delighted with the ad- mirable display of contrivance and skill.— Creatures like us, in contemplating the Divine procedure, are in the situation of the former. The scheme of providence may appear to us a maze of endless confusion, and even at times of jarring inconsistency, — one part frequently crossing and counteracting another. But the sole cause of this is our ignorance ; the very limited and partial views which we are able to take of it. It is because, as Solomon here expresses it, " we cannot find out the work that God doeth from the beginning to the end." Had we powers that enabled us to take a full and com- prehensive and connected view of the whole,-— from the originally proposed design, through all the successive steps of its progressive development, to its final and entire completion ; — we should see " every thing beau- tiful in its season,"— a perfect and delightful harmony, complicated indeed, but in proportion as it is compli- cated the more astonishing, in all the affairs of worlds, and kingdoms, and families, and individuals ;— we should be at once satisfied that there is nothing \\ ant- ing, and nothing useless,— nothing that could have been otherwise than it is, without irregularity and detriment. But to such a view no powers are adequate but those of Deity ; and we must in general content ourselves with the assurance of faith that " the Lord reigneth," and that ** what we know not now we shall know here, after." A particular consideration, however, is here sug- 'gested, as affecting our views of the Divine govern- il8 LECTURE Tc ment, and preventing our observation of it from being even so correct and extensive as it otherwise might be. This is probably the idea expressed by the obscure words,—*' also he hath set the world in their heart, so that men cannot find out the work that God doeth from the beginning to the end." — I wish to be guided, in the explanation of difficult expressions, by a regard to the connexion in which they stand, and to adopt the view which appears in itself the simplest, and the most con- sonant to the object of the writer. Following this prin- ciple, I would remark, In the first place. From our necessary connexion with the world, our hearts, indisposed as they are to look above and beyond it, get so much entangled in its various concerns, so much occupied about the ob- jects themselves which it presents to our desire and pur- suit and enjoyment, that we are ever prone to overlook the operations of God's hands,— not to take time to contemplate and examine them with sufficient atten- tion;—to satisfy ourselves with hasty and superficial glances, instead of a close and careful investigation. But this can never do. Of a system so involved and so extended, it is, in the nature of things, impossible to obtain any thing approaching to a comprehensive and accurate understanding, without a large measure of attentive consideration, humbly and devoutly bestowed. In the second place. From our diversified attach- ments to the persons and things of the world, we are rendered partial in our judgments of the Divine proce- dure ; our minds are biassed and warped ; our reason becomes the dupe of our feelings : — so that, what to a neutral spectator would appear the appointment of per- fect wisdom, we are hindered from perceiving, or hesi- tate to acknowledge; to be so, from our happening, in ECCLES. in. 1 — 15. 119 so great a variety of ways, to be interested, and from our intellectual vision being thus shortened and dis- torted. It by no means follows, that, if such causes of par- tiality and short-sightedness were removed, we should have a complete comprehension of this subject. No. Our faculties are still limited. They are the faculties of creatures, and incapable, (as those must be even of Intelligences much more exalted than we are,) of cm- bracing the plans of the omniscient God. But without doubt, the removal of such causes would render our views inconceiveably more just and more extensive than they are. But it may naturally be asked. How can the blessed God be with propriety represented as thus *^ setting the world in men's hearts ?" — I reply, by observing ; that the world, in a vast variety of its objects of desire and pursuit, not only lawfully may, but necessarily must, interest our hearts, and engage much of our attention. Its legitimate and needful occupations arc numerous, and there are not a few, which it is even our indispen- sable duty to mind.— And further, although God has set the world before men, and filled it with desirable objects and sources of gratification, and has so consti- tuted and so situated its inhabitants, as that they must be engaged about it, he is not justly chargeable with the partialities and excesses of men's attachment to it, or with their blinding and perverting influence; — an influence which arises from the absence or the imper- fection of a right disposition of heart. In the two following verses; the secret is repeated, of deriving from temporal things the measure and kind of happiness which, from their nature, they are capable of bestowing :— »" I know that there is no good in them, 1^0 LECTURE V. but for a man to rejoice and to do good in his life ; and also, that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labour; it is the gift of God." Solomon, in these words, sums up the uses of the things of the world. He declares all the good that is in them. It consists in two particulars ; one of which he had mentioned before, and the other is here added to it. The former is, the unsolicitous and cheerful enjoy- ment of whatever the providence of God is pleased to bestow. This is what he means by a man's " eating and drinking, and enjoying the good of all his labour," without forgetting that *^ it is the gift of God."— It is the same sentiment as in the close of the preceding chapter : *' There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour. This also I saw, that it was from the hand of God." Of this sentiment I shall not resume the explanation given in last lecture. But in the verses now before ns, an addition is made to it; or rather something more is directly expressed, which ought formerly to have been considered as implied in a man's " making his soul enjoy good in his labour:" for how can he do so without the exercise of benevo- lence ? The contracted spirit of selfishness can never be a happy spirit. If a man would truly " rejoice" in the reception and use of the bounties of heaven, he must not shut his heart and hand from God and his fellow- creatures, and expend all upon self: he must " do good in his life." Cheerfulness of heart in enjoying the fruits of the Divine goodness, is a duty which we owe to the Giver, accompanied, as it ought to be, with the spirit of hum- ble dependence and grateful acknowledgment. When the Israelites were to bring their basket of first-fruits ECCLES. III. 1—15. ISi before the Lord, confessing their faith, recognizing and avowing their obligations to the power and faithful- ness and kindness of the God of their fathers, and per- forming their act of public homage to his Name, such holy cheerfulness was expressly enjoined upon them : — *' Thou shalt rejoice," says Moses, " in every good thing which the Lord thy God hath given unto thee, and unto thy house, thou, and the Levite, and the stranger that is among you." But this rejoicing was to be connected with their devoting a liberal allowance of the Divine bounty for the benefit of others :— '^ When thou hast made an end of tithing all the tithes of thine increase of the third year, which is the year of tithing, and hast given it unto the Levite, the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow, that they may eat within thy gates and be filled : then thou shalt say before the Lord thy God, I have brought away the hallowed things out of my house, and also have given them to the Levite^ to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow, accord- ing to all thy commandments which thou hast com- manded me. I have not transgressed thy command- ments, neither have I forgotten (them.")*~This is one of the proper uses of God's bounty. He gives, to ena- ble us to give ; he blesses, that we may be a blessing. And a compliance, from right principles, with the de- sign of the Giver, renders his bounty, to him who pos- sesses it, a source of the purest and most exquisite en- joyment. " It is more blessed," said the Lord Jesus, ^' to give, than to receive :"— and the saying, infinitely worthy of Him who set us so wonderful an example of disinterested beneficence, has been found true in the sweet experience of every man who has laid himself out, in the use of his substance, as far as God has pros- * neat. xxvi. 10—13. Q i22 LECTURE T. nered him, for the welfare of all within the reach of his influence. This is incomparably more satisfying, both in the act, and in the reflection, than any gratification of selfishness, than any indulgence of " the lust of the flesh, or the lust of the eyes, or the pride of life."— " Charge them that are rich in this world," therefore. ^^ that they be not high-minded, nor trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy ; that they do good, that they be rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to commu- nicate ; laying up in store for themselves a good foun- dation against the time to come, that they may lay hold on eternal life."* To the present enjoyment and the present use of the gifts of God, we should be excited by the truth illus- trated in the preceding part of the chapter ; the abso- lute and uncontrollable nature of God's purposes and dispensations. They cannot be altered or turned aside by any effort of human power, or of human wisdom. It may be His sovereign intention, soon to order a change in our situation ; soon to deprive us of our pre- sent sources of enjoyment, and means of usefulness. And what a sad thing will it be, if it shall be found, that, during our time of permitted possession, we have not properly improved his goodness, either for our- selves, for others, or for Him !— It is this consideration, of the immutability of Divine purposes, that is urged upon our attention in Verse 14. *' I know that whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever : nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it; and God doeth it, that men should fear before him."—" It shall be forever." It must stand. It is beyond the reach of all created power, to prevent * 1 Tim, vi. ir— 19. ECCLES. III. 1 15. 1S8 or to alter it. " The counsel of the Lord standeth for ever; the thoughts of his heart to all generations." * He doeth according to his will, in the army of hea- ven, and among the inhabitants of the earth ; and none can stay his hand, or say unto him, Whatdoest thou ?" ** Remember the former things of old ; for I am God, and there is none else ; I am God, and there is none like me ; declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times the things that are not yet done, saying, My counsel shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure."* *' Nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it." — These words might be interpreted of the perfec- tion of God's purposes ; their being, in every respect, so excellent, that to add to them, or to take from them, would be to deteriorate and destroy them. But in the <:onnection in which they stand here, they seem rather intended to express the impossibility of altering these purposes ; the folly of attempting, or even of imagining, such a thing for a moment. The Supreme Ruler forms his determinations, and arranges his plans, without the counsel of any created being ; for " who hath directed the Spirit of the Lord, or, being his counsellor, hath taught him ? With whom took he counsel, or who in- structed him, and taught him in the path of j udgment, and taught him knowledge, and showed to him the way of understanding?" — No wisdom, and no power, of any creature, or of all creatures combined, can alter them ; no, not a single hair's breadth. Nothing can be added, nothing taken away. ** There are many devices in a man's heart ; nevertheless, the counsel of the Lord, that shall stand." " There is no wisdom, nor understanding, nor counsel against the Lord." " Surely the wrath of * Psal. xxxiii, 11, Dan, iv. 35, Isa. xlvi. 9, 10. l^^j LECTUIIB V. man shall praise thee ; the remahider of wrath wilt thou restrain." " Shall the axe boast itself against him that heweth therewith? or shall the saw magnify itself against him that shaketh it? as if the rod should shake itself against them that lift it up, or as if the staff should lift up itself as if it were no wood!" The last passage is part of the spirited reply to the boasted arrogance of the king of Assyria, who indulged his own proud and in- satiable ambition, gloried in past success, and exulted in confident anticipation, having it ^' in his heart to de- stroy and cut off nations not a few ;" but whose unprin^ cipled passions were all the while, though " he meant not so, neither did his heart think so," subserving the secret purposes of Jehovah.* The proper influence of the contemplation of God's uncontrollable sovereignty, and of the utter impotence of human power and wisdom to effect any change in his purposes, is to fill the heart with " reverence and godly fear :"— " God doeth it that men may fear be- fore him." — All the displays of his absolute supremacy over his creatures, should have this effect : and the more we accustom ourselves to the contemplation of them, and of the numberless indications of our entire and un- ceasing dependence, the more will our minds become imbued with the sentiments of religious awe ; the more will we " sanctify the Lord God in our hearts, and make him our fear and our dread ;" and adopt, with the deeper humility, the language of sublime adoration : f^ Great and marvellous are thy works. Lord God Al- mighty ; just and true are thy ways, thou king of saints. Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name ? for thou only art holy !"f * See Isa. x. 5—15. Prov. xls. 21. sxi. 10. Tsal. Ixxvi. 10. t Rev. XV. 3, 4. ECCLES. III. 1 — 15. 125 The fifteenth verse is very nearly a repetition of the sentiment expressed in the ninth and tenth verses of the first chapter. There he had said, "The thing which hath been, is that which shall be ; and that which is done, is that which shall be done : and there is no new thing under the sun. Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new ? It hath been already of old time, which was before us." Here he says, more briefly, " That which hath been, is now ; and that which is to be hath already been; and God requireth that which is past." — God's requiring, or recalling, that which is past, seems simply to mean, his repeating the same scenes, in the administration of his providence, through successive generations. The general plan of his proce- dure is, in its leading features, and in many even of its minuter details, the same from age to age, so as to pre- sent the appearance, described by various similitudes in the opening of the book, of constant sameness in the midst of ceaseless change. As in surveying the endless variety of the works of nature, we can discern, pervading the whole, the clearest indications of the same great principles of operation, leading us to the adoring acknowledgment of one almighty and all-wise Intelligence ; so may we, in the course of the Divine government of our world, discover, amidst all the changes of its eventful history, abundant evidence, that the same God continues to reign. Few indeed are the events that occur in any age, which may not find their parallels, or at least, their resemblances, in the annals of preceding times. The passage suggests the following practical reflec tions : — In thejirst place. In the midst of the vicissitudes of this incessantly changing world, let us look forward 1^6 LECTURE y. with hope and joy to that blessed state, where changes shall for ever cease ; where there shall be the fixed se- curity of perfect, unmingled, and unending felicity.—- Here, there may be many changes to the better ; there, every change would be to the worse,— every alteration a deduction of joy. There, there will be no plucking up and breaking down ; no losing and scattering ; no weeping and mourning; no hatred and war; no re^ mains of the curse, because no remains of sin. There shall not only be life, but immortality. There shall never again come *' a time to die." How delightful, whilst contemplating and experiencing the instability and fickleness of earthly things, to anticipate that ever- lasting rest ; — that paradise, of which the trees are trees of life, that shall never be rooted out by violence, and never yield to decay ;— that "city which hath founda- tions," and whose walls shall never be shaken ;— that land of victory and triumph, and covenanted peace, whose trophies and memorials shall never be over- thrown and scattered ; — that abode of joy, where there shall never come to its happy residents " a time to weep," for " God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes ;" where the white robes of purity and gladness shall never be rent asunder by the intrusions of grief, for " sorrow and sighing shall flee away ;" — where the silence of distrust and jealousy shall never close the Hps, but all shall be "of one heart and of one soul,"— - " Each find in each a glowing friend. And all the God of all adore !" And when, my Christian brethren, wc look forward to this glorious and happy state, can we possibly envy " the men of the world who have their portion in this life ?" Do you not rather most sincerely pity them ?~ pity them, when you behold them seeking their happi. EccLEs. m. 1 — i5. 127 ness amongst such transient uncertainties?— pity them, when you hear them repeating the universal inquiry, *' Who will shew us any good?" and obtaining no sa- tisfactory answer; "still dreaming on that they shall still succeed, and still" miserably "disappointed?"— the unsubstantial bubbles of earthly joy glittering, it may be, for the moment, in rainbow light, but all suc- cessively bursting and vanishing.— O that men would be persuaded, to give up the foolish expectation of per- manent satisfaction from those things that " perish in the using ;"— from this vain and unsettled world, -" whose scenes of bliss and wo Are shifting every fleeting hour !" and to seek true happiness, where alone it is to be found, in the favour of an unchanging God, and the hope of an unchanging heaven,— of that "life and incorruption, which are brought to light by the gospel !" In the second place. Whilst we arc tenants of this world, it will be well for us to expect vicissitude, — to lay our account with changes. This will serve to pre- vent our being unhinged and overwhelmed, when such changes come, as those are apt to be, by whom they have never been anticipated. Whilst, in the season of adversity, we comfort ourselves with the hope that better days may yet await us ; that light may arise to us out of darkness ; that though '* weeping may endure for a night, joy shall come in the morning:" let us also, in the lime of our prosperity, beware of saying, with inconsiderate confidence, " we shall never be moved," of trusting to the continuance of the serene calm, or the propitious gale. Let us be always on the look out for the rising cloud, and keep our vessel in trim for the storm. In prosperity, let us be ready for adversity ; in 128 LECTURE V. health, for sickness ; in laughter, for mourhing; in life, for death.—If Providence favours us with "a time to get," let us calculate on the world's instability, and not be astonished and disconcerted if there should come "a time to lose." When we are in circumstances to plant and build, let us not forget that we may soon be disinherited of our estate, and obliged to quit our ha= bitation. In the third place. Whatever changes do take place, let us be satisfied with the providence of God. — 1 do not mean by this, that we should merely submit from ne- cessity—from a feeling forced upon us, that our case cannot be helped, and cannot be altered, and that there- fore repining is useless. There is a mighty difference between this state of mind, and that resignation which springs from the pious assurance that all God's ways are wisdom, and faithfulness, and love: that whilst in his administration, *' to every (thing there is) a season, and a time for every purpose under the sun," the times and the seasons are all determined with unerring pro- priety,—all as they ought to be.— This is the satisfac- tion with God's providence which I now recommend. It is, " having faith in God ;" — even although his pro- cedure should at times be to us inscrutable, yet " against hope believing in hope," that " all things work together for good to them that love him, to them who are the called according to his purpose;" — and, in this confidence, being ever ready to say, " Thy ways, great God, are little known To my weak, erring sight ; Yet shall my soul, believing, ovirn. That all thy ways are right." And the principles of this confidence we may and ought to apply to the whole of the Divine procedure, whether tCCLES. III. 1 — 15. 1S9 towards individuals, or families, or nations, or Christian societies, or his church and kingdom in the world. Let our song of faith ever be, " Hallelujah I for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth !" Thoughtless sinners, allow me to remind you, that there is one of the Divine counsels, respecting which it may, with peculiar emphasis, be affirmed, " It shall be for ever ; nothing can be added to it, nor any thing taken from it." — It was his purpose from eternity to save sinners of mankind by the mediation of his Son. And when, in the history of our fallen world, " the ful- ness of the time was come," he fulfilled his purpose ; when " he who was in the form of God, and thought it not robbery to be equal with God, made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men ; and, being found in fashion as a man, humbled himself and became obe- dient unto death, even the death of the cross." " He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities." " All we like sheep have gone astray ; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all." He finished the work which was given him to do. In that finished work Jehovah is well pleased. His satisfactioa in his Son, and in the work of his Son, is infinite and everlasting. Eternity can never diminish it. And his declared determination is immutable as his nature, to receive sinners only in his name, and for his sake alone to '' be merciful to their unrighteousnesses." On no other ground than the righteousness and atonement of the Di- vine Mediator will he admit of their approach into his presence ; on no other ground will he listen to their pleadings for mercy ; on no other ground will he bless and save them. The foundation which God has laid in R 130 LECTURE V. UCCLES. 1—15^. Zion for the hopes of sinners, he himself has declared to be '' a sure foundation ;" and it partakes not of the instability of earthly things. It can never be swept away ; and what is built upon it can never be over- thrown. But it is the only foundation. ^' Other founda- tion can no man lay than that is laid ; which is Jesus Christ." You can add nothing to the work which he finished, in the room of sinners, on the cross ; and you must take nothing from it. You must rest upon it, with humble simplicity of heart, as it is revealed in the gos- pel. The purpose of God is firm ; it cannot be altered. " He that believeth on the Son is not condemned : but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only-begotten Son of God."—** He that believeth on the Son of God hath everlasting life ; and he that believeth not the Son, shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." LECTURE VI. EccLES. iii. 16 — 2S. iv, 1 — 3, '26 " And, moreover, I saiv under the sun thefilace of judgment, (that) wickedness fwasj there ? and the place of righteousness, f that J 17 iniquity fivasj there. I said in mine heart, God shall judge the righteous and the wicked :fQr (there is) a time therefor every pur- 18 fiose, and for every work. I said in mine heart concerning the estate of the sons of men, that God might manifest them, and that they 19 might see that they themselves are beasts. For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts ; even one thing befalleth them : as the one dieth, so dieth the other ; yea, they have all one breath : so that a man hath no fire-emincnce above a beast : for all (is J 20 vanity. All go unto onefilace : all are of the dust, and all return to 21 dustagain. Whoknoweththesfiiritofmanthatgoethufiward,and the 22 sftirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth ? Wherefore I perceive that (there is J nothing better, than that a man should re- joice in his own works ; for that (is J his portion : for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him ?" 1 " So / returned, and considered all the oppressions that are done under the sun: and behold the tears of Csuch as were) oppressed, and they had no comforter ; and on the one side of their oppressors 2 (there was) power ; but they had no comforter. Wherefore I praised the dead who are already dead, more than the living who 3 are yet alive. Yea, better (is he J than both they which hath not yet been, who hath not yet seen the evil work that is done under the S7tn.^', Amongst the sources of unhappiness and vexatioa of spirit, discovered by Solomon in his survey of hu- man life, he mentions, in the beginning of the passage now read, the frequent exaltation of unprincipled men to places of power and authority, their violations of the very laws which they had been appointed to administer ind to guard from infringement, and their administra- tion of them with injustice, partiality, and corruption. Verse 16. '* And moreover, I saw under the sun the laS LECTURE VI. place of judgment, (that) wickedness (was) there, and the. place of righteousness, (that) iniquity (was) there.'* Different views have been suggested of the connec- tion of this particular with the leading object of the book. In the first place. It has been considered as an in- tended check to die vanity of ambition. The possession of power brings invariably along with it a temptation to its perversion and abuse : a temptation so strong, that rnany who, previously to their advancement, have appeared to " walk uprightly," " doing justly and Iov« ing mercy," have no sooner been raised to the perilous eminence, than they have fallen before it, and, to the surprise and disappointment of all, have assumed the character of unrighteous and ruthless oppressors. As the seat of power, then, is not always the seat of true honour ; and as it is surrounded with temptations to such conduct as may cover its possessor with infamy and execration ; let aspiring ambition be repressed ; let the man who is seeking happiness in the attainment of power, pause and bethink himself, and not indulge too sanguine expectations and assurances of finding what he seeks. Let him not deride the warning, and, in self- confident presumption, pronounce it impossible that he should ever act a part, which so many, who had quite as good ground for vaunting, have acted before him. No man knows what is in his heart, till his heart has been tried by the eliciting powers of temptation.— Be- sides, even the upright and conscientious ruler may suffer by his official connection with others ; and by that generalizing principle of association, which attaches the character of the individual magistrate to the office which he holds, and from the delinquency of a few, condemns or suspects all, and loads them with indiscriminate ob^ ECCLES. III. 16 S3. IV. 1 — 3. 133 loquy. We know well how unfairly this principle fre- quently operates ; and how difficult it is for a man, even of the purest integrity and the most consummate pru- dence, to avoid incurring his share, however undeserved, of this official odium, and to preserve his reputation unsullied. Secondly. The abuse of power by unrighteous and wicked judges and governors, is a source of very exten- sive unhappiness to the people who are placed under its influence. Where there is " respect of persons^ and taking of bribes," the poor are oppressed, their sub- stance is spoiled, their dues are kept back by fraud, their wrongs are unredressed, and the evils of poverty are ten-fold accumulated. The unequal administration of law and justice produces between the poor and the lich, and amongst the rich themselves, envies, and jea- lousies, and quarrels, and mutual disquietudes and ap- prehensions. As the impartial distribution of justice is one of the highest blessings that providence can confer upon a country, its opposite is one of the deepest cur- ses, a source of the most multifarious and aggravated misery. No wonder, then, that in his survey of the con- dition of mankind, and in forming his estimate of hu- man happiness, the Royal observer should have marked amongst his memoranda this fountain of bitter waters, which, rising in '^ the high places" of the earth, pours its wormwood streams to so melancholy an extent over the peopled valleys beneath. Thirdly. The existence and contemplation of such scenes of iniquity and oppression, was itself a cause of much disquietude and vexation to Solomon's own mind ; disgusting him with the world ; fretting and irritating his spirit ; marring his enjoyment, and frustating his hopes.— Even in his own kingdom, where he wished 134^ LECTURE VI. impartial justice to be administered to all his subjects, he had found it, we may presume, impossible, with all his care, to prevent entirely the intrusion of improper characters into places of trust and power. He was dis- appointed and provoked by complaints from various parts of his dominions, respecting the conduct of those whom he had appointed to be " a terror to evil-doers, and a praise of them that do well ," and possibly he sometimes found least satisfaction where he had, and with. apparent reason, expected most. This was one of the many cares and crosses of royalty, that rendered its honours and pleasures irksome and distasteful ; One of the thorns in his crown by day, and in his pillow of down by night. — He knew besides that such evils were not confined to his own kingdom, but were exhibited on a much more extensive scale, and in a much more distressing degree, in other countries, with whose past and present history he was acquainted. His ear was pain'd. His heart was sick, with every days report of wrong and outrage, with which earth was fill'd." If we compare this verse with the beginning of the next chapter, where the same subject is resumed, we shall be satisfied, that it is this third idea that Solomon had principally in his mind : — " So 1 returned, and considered all the oppressions that were done under the sun : and behold, the tears of (such as were) oppressed, and they had no comforter ; and on the side of their oppressors (there was) power, but they had no com- forter. Wherefore 1 praised the dead who are already dead, more than the living who are yet alive. Yea, better (is he) than both they, who hath not yet been, who hath not seen the evil work that is done under the sun." — These verses contain an amplification of the ECCLES. III. 16 — 22. IV. 1 — 3. 135 same sentiment we have just been considering. The language is very strong; yet not stronger than the scene described is sufficient to justify ; for nothing can well be conceived more fitted to rouse up all the latent indignation of a generous and compassionate spirit. — Solomon's mind was so deeply aiFecied by the miseries consequent on the abuse of authority, especially under arbitrary and despotic governments, where power takes the place of right, where the oppressed can neither escape nor obtain redress, and where none have the cou- rage to stand forth as the protectors and vindicators of injured innocence, or even to act the part of its private comforters ; — that he *' praised the dead," because their hearts could no longer be harassed and torn by the view of such scenes, and the bitter feeling of incompe- tence to mend them ; and, to their situation, he even preferred that of the unborn child,— of ** him who had not yet been," who had never at all witnessed such wickedness, and such misery resulting from it, nor had his sensibilities crucified by the contemplation of them. Life appeared hateful to him,— death and non-existence preferable. He could not endure a world where such profligacy and such wretchedness prevailed. The reflection in the seventeenth verse is, in this vierr of its connection, a very solemn and aflfecting one :— " I said in my heart, God shall judge the righteous and the wicked ; for (there is) a time there for every pur- pose, and for every work." Some may be disposed to view it as a consolation to the mind of Solomon, to be assured, that *^ the righ- teous God, who loveth righteousness" would not be a spectator of such scenes of evil, andalwat/s keep silence j that he would call to a fearful reckoning the unrigh- teous and unmerciful oppressor, and avenge the victim.? 136 LECTURE VI. of wrong and cruelty. " There is a time there,^"* that is, *' there is a time" with God in heaven, " for every purpose, and for every work." There is with him " a time to keep silence, and a time to speak ;"* a time to mark and register human crimes, and a time to " bring them into judgment." Of such wicked men, ** the judg- ment lingereth not, the damnation slumbereth not." But, although it is true, that by the final judgments of a holy and just God, every wrong and evil shall be thoroughly accounted for and rectified,— the righteous acquitted, and the wicked condemned ; and although this is, in one view, a most gratifying and consolatory truth ;— yet I cannot help thinking, that the reflection in verse 17th, was made with a sigh, — a deep and heavy sigh ; not, indeed, implying any secret regret that such works were to be brought into judgment, or any wish that they should not ; but, in the midst of the satisfac- tory assurance that they should, an awful and shudder- ing anticipation of the horrors of the coming retribu- tion. The distress, arising from the contemplation of human wickedness, is a thousand-fold aggravated to the mind of him who connects it with the "judgment to come." Whilst it becomes us to acquiesce, and that with satisfaction, in the propriety of such wickedness being brought to merited punishment by the wronged and insulted Majesty of Heaven, we cannot but be deeply pained when we think of such cause being given for the infliction of his vengeance,— when we see un- godly men " treasuring up unto themselves wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous judgment of God." The feelings of piety are not in- compatible with the feelings of humanity. A holy as- sent to the execution of the awards of justice in the * See Psal. 1. 3, ECCLES. III. 16 22. IV. 1 — 3. 137 merited punishment of impenitent transgressors, and a solemn delight in the manifestation of the Divine glory- in their destruction, do not at all require that we should feel pleasure in the sufferings themselves of our fellow- creatures, however justly inflicted. On the contrary, the anticipation of them sends home to the heart a pang of indescribable agony. The blessed God himself, whom we should seek in every imitable part of his character to resemble, hath said, " As I live, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but rather that he would turn from his wicked way and live."* — The general meaning, therefore, of this part of the passage appears to be, that the enjoyment of life was marred and em- bittered to Solomon, by the sight and the hearing of the oppression and injustice prevalent in the world; and that, whilst the assurance of a righteous judgment to come imparted to his mind relief and comfort in one view, it added inconceivably in another to the weight of distress by which his heart was burdened. From this verse, and from various other parts of the Book, it is manifest, that Solomon understood and believed for himself, and also, that he taught to others, the doctrines of a future judgment, and a future state of happiness and misery ; and that the fancy of some is destitute of foundation, by whom the Book has been interpreted, as if it proceeded throughout upon igno- rance of these important truths, as not having been at that time clearly revealed :— a hypothesis, which it seems passing strange, that any person who has read the Old Testament Scriptures should ever have seriously espoused ; yet which has been made the basis of the most ingenious and learned speculations, relative to the na- ture of the Mosaic Economy, and the evidence of its * Ezek. xxxiii, IL 138 LECTURE vr. Divine authority. The subject may come in our wav again. At present, any discussion of it would lead us too much away from the scope and design of the pas- sage under review. Verses 18—20. " I said in my heart, concerning the estate of the sons of men, that God might manifest them, and that they might see that they themselves are beasts. For that which befalleth the sons of men be- falleth beasts ; even one thing befalleth them : as the one dieth, so dieth the other ; yea, they have all one breath ; so that a man hath no pre-eminence above a beast : for all (is) vanity. All go to one place : all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again." I am disposed to consider these verses as still the language of Solomon himself : for the opinion of some, that they should be interpreted as if spoken by a ma- terialist, or atheistical objector, is incapable, I think, of being maintained in any consistency with the plain con- struction of the passage. — Considering them as the lan- guage of Solomon, there appears to be one thing only necessary to be admitted, in order to render their mean- ing intelligible and clear ; namely, that by ** the sons of men" we are to understand the general mass of man- kind, who live for this world, and have their portion in it. And this is not surely an unreasonable postulate. On the principle that the vast majority of mankind live for themselves and for time, and that those who live for God and eternity are the exceptions to the general character, the same designation is, in other places, used in this restricted sense. " O ye sons ofmen^ how long (will ye turn) my glory into shame ? (how long) will ye love vanity, and follow after leasing ?" " Unto you, O men, 1 call, and my voice (is) to the sons of men ; O ye simple, understand wisdom : and ye fools, be ye of ECCLES. III. 16 23. IV. 1 — 3. 139 an understanding heart." — And even in this book : " Because sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil." " Also the heart of the sons of men is full of evil, and madness (is) in their heart while they live ; and after that (they go) to the dead."* — Besides, it will appear still more clearly by and by, that in this pas- sage itself, Solomon affirms the certainty of the immor- tality of the soul and a future judgment, and that, when he reasons of the vanity of Ife, he has in his view this life considered by itself as alas ! it so generally is by thoughtless and ungodly men. The eighteenth verse, then, may be considered as ex- pressing the wish or desire of Solomon's heart, after he had learned, by much bitter experience, the proper es- timate of all the sources of worldly enjoyment, that God would reveal to the sons of men what was their real state and character, as long as they were devoting them- selves, in affection and pursuit, to these alone, — as long as they continued " men of the world who have their portion in this life." — "I said in my heart, concerning the estate of the sons of men, O that God might mani- fest them," (that is, to themselves, according to what follows,) " and that they might see that they themselves are beasts:" — that whilst they grovel amongst worldly pleasures alone, whilst " earth confines their low de- sires," they degrade their immortal nature, they sink themselves to a level with the beasts that perish. For, in as far as mere animal life, and animal gratifications, and the termination of earthly existence, are concerned, where lies the mighty difference ?— " That v/hich be- falleth the sons of men, befalleth beasts ; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other ? ♦ Psal. iv, 2. ProY. viii. 4, 5. Kccles, viii. 11. is. 5, 140 LECTURE VI. yea, they have all one breath ; so that a man hath no pre-eminence above a beast; for all (is) vanity. AH go unto one place : all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again." — Many of the inferior animals have senses capa- ble of imparting much more exquisite sensations of pleasure than men : — men are subject to a much greater variety of diseases, and accidents, and modes of suffer- ing, than the generality of brutes:— men and beasts breathe together the same air, and are sustained by the same general process of nourishment : — and when they die, they discover the same latent principle of corrup- tion; both alike putrifying and mouldering into dust; the same in origin, and the same in end. — In such views as these, "a man hath no pre-eminence above a beast," and the life of man, considered simply in relation to this world, is most emphatically vanity, — all vanity *' Lord, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, that I may know how frail I (am.) Behold, thou hast made my days (as) a hand breadth, and mine age (is) as nothing before thee : verily every man, at his best estate, (is) altogether vanity. Surely every man walketh in a vain show ; surely they are disquieted in vain : he heapeth up (riches) and knoweth not who shall gather them."*^ — " For he seeth (that) wise men die ; likewise the fool and the brutish person perish, and leave their wealth to others. Their inward thought (is, that) their houses (shall continue) for ever, (and) their dwelling places to all generations : they call (their) lands after their own names. Nevertheless, man, (being) in honour ^bideth not ; he is like the beasts (that) perish. This their way (is) their folly ; yet their posterity approve their sayings. Like sheep they arc laid in the grave ; death shall feed on them ; and the upright shall have domi- * VsiX. xxxix. 4 — 6= ECCLES. Ill, IB 32. IV. 1 — 3. 141 nioii over them in the morning ; and their beauty shall consume in the grave from their dwelling. — Man (that is) in honour, and understandeth not, is like the beasts (that) perish."* — In these passages, from the Psalms, the same general sentiment is expressed as in the verses before us ; and in the latter of the two, expressed in very similar terms. Between the latter end, however, of the man and the brute, there is one essential and most important differ- ence ; and it is this difference which manifests, above every other consideration, the extreme and pitiable folly of " the sons of men," when, like the beasts, they live as if the present were their only existence. This dif- ference is expressed in the twenty-first verse : — " Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?" For the illustration of this verse, let it be remarked, that the expression " Who knoweth?" docs not convey the idea of ignorance or uncertainty with regard to the future destination of the spirit of man in distinction from that of the brute : — for in this same verse a differ- ence is expressly asserted to subsist between them. Of the one it is affirmed that it " goeth upward," and of the other, that it "goeth downward to the earth." — - The death of man and beast having been mentioned in the preceding verse, — ^* all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again," — makes it sufficiently clear, that it is of this period that Solomon continues to speak ; that the phraseology he employs is not intended merely tc express the aspiring nature of the spirit of man on the one hand, and the grovelling nature of the spirit of brutes on the other ; but the destiny of each at the close of their present life ; the spirit of man surviving his ♦ Ps;il, xlix. 10—14, 20, 142 LECTURE >I. mortal frame, whilst that of the brutes, instead of out- living their bodies, is destined to perish with thenio The separate existence of the human spirit is still more directly affirmed in a subsequent part of this book : — = *' Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was; and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it."* — It would be out of place to enter here into abstruse meta- physical speculations. My own opinion is, (and it seems, amongst other grounds, to have some support from the passage before us, in which the same term is used for the spirit of the beast and for the spirit of man J —that the iai material thinking substance in man and brute, is, in its essential properties, the same ; that all created existence, spiritual and corporeal, being alike dependent for its continuance on the power which im- parted it, it arises entirely from the will of the Creator, and not from any difference between spirit and matter, as if the former were in its own nature indestructible, that the soul, or thinking principle, of man is destined to immortality, whilst that of the brute terminates its distinct and conscious existence, when the spark of animal life has been extinguished. To draw with pre- cision the boundaries between the operation of instinct and the exercise of reason, has many a time been at- tempted, but never with any success ; and often, on this subject, (a subject in many respects highly curious and interesting,) have men deluded themselves by words and names ; ascribing to instinct in brutes, actions which evidently possess all the distinctive attributes of rationality, and which, without hesitation, they impute to reason in men. Now, as all created existence, of every possible description, must be dependent,— en- tirely and unceasingly dependent,— on the life-giving ♦ Chap. xii. 7. ECCLES. in. 16 — 22. IV. 1 — 3. 143 God ; I can perceive no heresy in the belief, that the same kind of spiritual essence should in brutes be de- stined to the cessation, and in man to the continuance of existence ; any more than in the belief, (which vvc know to have the direct countenance of revelation, and which is immediately connected with the other,) that the corporeal part of the man and of the brute, though alike doomed to the dust, is in the former destined to restoration, and in the latter to permanent corruption. If in the expression " the spirit of man that goeth upward," the separate existence of the human soul after death be, as I conceive it is, directly affirmed, then the question,—" PF/io knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth down- ward to the earth ?" must not, as I have already noticed, be understood to imply ignorance or uncertainty on this all-important point: — and to suppose no more to be meant, than that the difference between the one and the other in death is not discernible, would be egregious trifling; the soul of man being of course, from its im- material nature, incapable of being so discerned. What- ever may be the case with other orders of being, and especially with spiritual essences that exist in separa- tion from material bodies; — whatever may be amongst them the means of perception and intercourse ; we our- selves belong to a species possessing no senses for the discernment of spirits. That we cannot see the human spirit quitting the body and going upward to God, is a proposition too trifling for the solemnity of the ques- tion ; and nothing would be more unphilosophical than to found upon this consideration any sceptical doubt a? to its distinct existence, or tiie existence of spirit in general. It has been justly remarked, that a creature endowed with four only of the senses which we pos- 144< LECTURE vr. scss, might, with equal reason, question the existence of all that we discover by the fifth. The question, then, appears to be expressive of a very lamentable fact ;— namely, that few, very few, pro- perly think of and consider this essential and important difference between the human and the brute creation ; that the great majority of mankind live and act as if they knew nothing of it, or attached to it no degree of credit. — A similar style of question is, in other places, used, to express the same idea of rarity, associated with the sentiments of wonder and regret : — " Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies :"* '* Who hath believed our report ? and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed ?"f — and the word which is translated "knoweth" is one which not unfre- quently signifies, to take notice of, or to regard. — Solo- mon affirms, then, the difference between man and brute ; affirms that the spirit of the former at death " ascendeth on high," and that the spirit of the latter, like the body, " goes down to the earth," and perishes with it ; — and he laments the fact, that by the great majority of the children of men the difference is not at- tended to, and is entirely without influence. And this deep and melancholy regret accords with the desire which he had just before expressed, that God would show the sons of men how foolish they were, and how they degraded their immortal nature, by living as if the present life were their only existence, and thus equal- izing themselves with the beasts of the field. It was indeed matter of just lamentation, that such creatures should not lay to heart their lofty destination, and rise superior to the perishing vanities and grovelling pur.^ suits, of a mere earthly and sensual existence. • Prov, xsxi. 10. t Isa. liil. \. ECCLES. ni. 16 23. IV. 1 — 3. 145 The 22nd verse, " Wherefore I perceive, that (there is) nothing better, than that a man should rejoice in his own works; for that (is) his portion: for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him?"— may be understood in two ways. First. It may be considered as a repetition of thC; same sentiment which he had more than once expressed before, respecting the grateful reception and cheerful enjoyment of the bounties of providence.* In this case, the verse must be connected with the vanity of human life, considered by itself, independently of the life to come, as having, in so many respects, no pre-eminence above that of the beasts. In these circumstances, the best thing for a man to do with the possessions of this world is, cheerfully to enjoy them, while his vain and fleeting life endures, as the portion given him by the kindness of heaven ; remembering, that when he re- turns to the dust, his connection with earthly things shall for ever terminate, and that " what shall be after him" will be to him no matter of concern, when he has finally retired from the scene. — " Thou prevailest for ever against him, and he passeth ; thou changest his countenance and sendest him away. His sons come to honour, and he knoweth (it) not ; and they are brought low, but he perceiveth (it) not of them."! But, secondly, the words are capable of a more ele- vated sense. — Solomon had been speaking of the vexa- tion arising to the mind from the wickedness of others, and had been looking forward to a coming judgment, when just and unjust shall give their account to God ; and to death, as the time when the " spirit of man goeth upward" " to God who gave it." May we not then consider him as expressing what ought to be the s?- * Chan. u. 24. ir. 12, 13, t J'^b' ^•''' -^' *' T 146 LECTUIIE VI. rious and constant aim of mankind,— what every man should set his heart upon, as his highest attainment ;— namely, that, in life and in death, he may have reason to "rejoice in his own works," however much he may be grieved and distressed by those of others ; that he may have this as a portion of happiness, which none shall be able to alienate from him, — of inward enjoy- ment of which he shall never be robbed. Let him see to it, that, with solemn anticipation of what is before him, with the most conscientious integrity of desire to know and to do God's will, and with the most wakeful and solicitous circumspection in all his ways, he retain the possession of this portion : — and as to the concern which he feels about the wickedness and oppression of others, the guilt of the oppressor and the misery of the oppressed, — '* who shall bring him to see what shall be after him ?" The scene shall soon be removed from be- fore his eyes ; or rather, he shall be removed from it ; — and when he takes his departure out of the world, he shall witness it no more.— In this view of the words, they will beautifully correspond with the sentiments and admonitions of the New Testament writers :— " Our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation in the world:" — "Let every man prove his own work ; and then shall he have rejoicing in him- self alone, and not in another. For every man shall bear his own burden."* And the duty implied, and which is thus connected with a man's true interest, will be that which the apostle of the Gentiles so finely expres- ses, in his vindication of himself before Felix : " Herein do I exercise myself, to have always a conscience void * ? C'M-. i. 12. Cul.vi. 4,5. ECCLES. III. 16 22. IV. 1 — 3. 4 4^ of offence toward God, and (toward) men."* — Let a man thus '• study to approve himself unto God," a?? one of his true and faithful servants :— let him not " practise wicked deeds with them that do iniquity," or " have any fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness:" — let him walk with God, in faith and holy obedience :— let him be found amongst the righteous, — the fearers of the Lord : — and let him rest assured that He will in the end make a marked and permanent distinction between his subjects and his enemies. *' A Book of remembrance is written before him, for them who fear him and think upon his name : and they shall be mine, saith the Lord, in that day when I make up my jewels ; and 1 will spare them, as a man sparcth his own son that serveth him. Then shall ye return, and discern between the righteous and the wicked ; between him that serveth God, and him that serveth him not."f " The ungodly shall not stand in the judg- ment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous : for the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous; but the way of the ungodly shall perish. "J In addition to this solemn practical consideration, let us observe, in the first place, the ground which this passage suggests to us for rejoicing that " the Lord reigneth." — We cannot, unless we be dead to all the \ irtuous sensibilites of the heart, survey the oppression and profligacy of men without deep and painful emo- tion. Injustice and tyranny arc sometimes, in the righ- teous severity of God, permitted to afflict men on a very extensive scale ; many nations being troubled by the arbitrary and ruthless despotism of one man ; the example spreading downwards from the sovereign, through all the gradations, to the meanest of petty place- " Acts xxlr. 16. + MaL iii. 16—18. * Psal. i. 5, 6. 148 LECTURli VI. men ; and, instead of the ^* officers being peace and the exactors righteousness," the officers ruling with the haughty rigour of " a little brief authority," and the exactors extorting unrighteous requisitions, and '* grind- ing the faces of the poor:" the hands of the adminis- trators of justice being polluted with bribes ; and *^ when we look for judgment, behold oppression, and for righteousness, behold a cry,"— But, in tiie midst of all these perplexing irregularities, let us not fancy that the Sovereign of the universe has forsaken our worldi and regards not the doings and the suffif rings of the sons of men. *' Verily there is a God that judgeth ia the earth." All the passions of the human heart, in all their corruption and violence, in ail the wildness of their most tumultuary movements, are entirely under liis control. He makes " the v/rath of man to praise him, and tiie remainder of wrath he restrains." The unprincipled and blood-thirsty tyrant is made " the rod of his indignation," the instrument in his hand of cor- recting the nations ; and, when the ends of his moral administration have been answered, the oppressor him- self becomes, in his turn, the subject of his retributive inflictions. '^' When the Lord hath performed his whole work upon mount Zion, and on Jerusalem, he pun- ishes the fruit of the stout heart of the king of Assyria, and the glory of his high looks."* When " the wine- cup of God's fury" has been handed round among all the nations, '^ the king of Sheshach" must " drink after them."! And if the lawless oppressor should go on in triumph, even to the close of his mad career, still ^^ he shall not go unpunished :" — still there is a judg- ment to come :— still " in the hand of the L,ord there is ii cup, and the wine is red ; it is full of mixture ; and * I»a^x. 12, I Jer.xxY. 35—26. - ECCLES. III. 16 22. IV. 1 — 3. 149 the dregs thereof, all the wicked of the earth shall wring them out and drink them." — It is our great comfort to be assured, that " men are in his hand." If any of his own people are left to " suffer for righteousness' sake," ^' let them not be afraid, but lot them glorify God on this behalf." O how often, in the history of the church, have the disciples of Jesus been "^ oppressed, and drawn before the judgment-seats ;" and when they have ^' be- held the place of judgment, wickedness has been there ; and the place of righteousness, iniquity has been there." Should any of you ever be called, for the name's sake of Jesus, to " suffer wrongfully" either by public or private malice, your Master has set before you both your consolation and your duty. " Blessed are ye, when (men) shall revile you, and persecute (you,) and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad ; for great (is) your reward in heaven :" — " But I say unto you. Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that dcspitefully use you, and persecute you : that ye may be the children of your Father who is in lieaven : for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust,"*— And let all be assured, who by the unrighteous decisions, and acts, and combinations, of arbitrary power and proud ma- lignity, oppose the cause and kingdom of ^^ the just One," that their doom is written. " Tlie kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel to- gether, against the Lord, and against his Anointed, (saying,) Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us. He that sitteth in the hea- vens shall laugh : the Lord shall have them in derision. .♦ M&tt. V. II, 12,44,45 150 LECTURE VI. Then shall he speak unto them in his wrath, and vex them in his hot displeasure." " Be wise now, there- fore, O ye kings ; be instructed, ye judges of the earth : bcrve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Embrace the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish (from) the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed (are) all they that put their trust in him."* In the second place. Let this passage repress all emo tions of envy towards the prosperous in oppression and wickedness. From part of a former chapter, wc had occasion to notice how little ground the poor have to envy the large possessions and multiplied pleasures of worldly men,— because cf the instability of the enjoy- ment derived from them, its mingled nature, and its constant tendency to p;ill upon the appetite and to pro- duce satiety and disgust. At present, our remark is rather founded on the character of the men brougin before us in the verses we have been considering. When we anticipate the " great and dreadful day of the Lord," the day of final reckoning and eternal de- cision, when " God shall judge the righteous and the wicked," little cause truly have we for envying or for wishing to follow such men. Abhorrence of their ways, heartfelt pity for their persons, and an earnest desire to "■ save their souls from death, and to cover the multi- tude of their sins," are the feelings with wiiich the sight and the thought of them should penetrate our bosoms. -' Envy thou rot the oppressor, and choose none of his ways : for tlie froward is abomination to the Lord ; but his secret is with the righteous," " Fret not thyself because of evil-doers, neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity : for they shall soon be cut down like the grass, and wither like the green hcrbl * Psal.ii. 2—5/10—11:. ECCLES. III. 16 2S. IV. 1 — 3. 15 i Trust in the Lord, and do good; (so) shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed. Delight thy- self also in the Lord ; and he shall give thee the de- sires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord ; trust also in him, and he shall bring (it) to pass; and he shall bring forth thy righteousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noon-day. Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him : fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way, because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass. Cease from anger, and forsake wrath : fret not thyself in any wise to do evil. For evil-doers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit the earth. For yet a little while, and the wicked (shall) not (be:) yea. thou shalt diligently consider his place, and it (shall) not (be.) But the meek shall inherit the earth; and shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace. "^■ The Psalmist Asaph admitted envy of the wicked into his heart, and was tempted by the sight of their pros- perity to '' deny the God that is above." He was brought to the very verge of atheism. After his re- covery, he describes their character, the inward work- ings of the temptation, and the manner in which the spell was broken and his soul set at liberty, and enabled to resume its confidence and joy in the Lord. *' When I thought to know this, it (was) too painful for me, until i went into the sanctuary of God : (then) under- stood I their end. Surely thou didst set them in slippery places: thou castedst them down into destruction. How are they (brought) into desolation, as in a moment ! they are utterly consumed with terrors. As a dream when (one) awaketh; (so,) O Lord, when thou awakest, thou shalt despise their image. Thus my heart was • Fsal. xxxvli .1—11. 15a LtCTURE vr. grieved, and I was pricked in my reins. So foolibli (was) I, and ignorant : I was (as) a beast before thee. Nevertheless I (am) continually with thee; thou hast holden (me) by my right hand. Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me (to) glory. Whom have I in heaven (but thee ?) and (there is) none upon earth (that) I desire besides thee. My flesh and my heart faileth : (but) God (is) the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever."^ Lastly. Let " the man of the earth" consider the folly with which he is chargeable, in forgetting his im- mortality, and living as if he had no connection with any world but this, and no prospect of any existence beyond his residence in it. O remember, that " your days on earth are as a shadow, and that there is no abiding ;" that when you die, you are not to sink into annihilation ; your spirit is not, like that of the brutes, to " go downward to the earth," but must "go upward," — upward to God, — " to God, who gave it." Live no longer, then, like the beasts that perish. Rise to a sense of your dignity as immortal beings. Take into your estimate of happiness the whole extent of your exist- ence. The chief good of a rational and immortal crea- ture must be something worthy of his rational nature, and in duration commensurate with eternity. Let your inquiry be, how an eternity of existence may be to you an eternity of enjoyment ? To answer this inquiry is the grand design of revelation. " The way of salvation" is there set before you ;— the way to eternal life ; — the path to ^^ glory, and honour, and immortality." Jesus is revealed as the Son of God, the Divine Redeemer, the Hope of sinners. Believe in Him; live to Him. Thus shall you possess true honour, and true felicity. * Pial. Ixxlii. 16—26. ECCLES. III. 16 22, IV. 1 — 3. 153 When your mortal frame shall descend to the dustj your spirit, commended into the hands of God your Saviour, shall rise to the perfection of purity and bliss. •' Absent from the body, you shall be present with the Lord ;" and *' your flesh also," though doomed to tem- porary corruption, ^' shall rest in hope.^' Man and beast go to one place ; returning to the common womb of Earth. But the former are not lost. The common Pa- rent shall travail again. " The Earth shall cast forth her dead." They that " dwell in the dust," who have lived and died to the Lord, ** shall awake and sing:" — " Lo this (is) our God ; we have waited for him, and he will save us : this (is) the Lord ; we have waited for him ; we will be glad and rejoice in his salvation." " This corruptible shall then put on incorruption, and this mortal immortality ; and the saying that is written shall be brought to pass. Death is swallowed up in vic- tory !" — Again, then, I say, live no longer like the beasts that perish. Anticipate what is before you, and thankfully avail yourselves of the mercy of the gospel. " Behold, now (is) the accepted time ; behold, now (is) the day of salvation." " This is life eternal, to know the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom he hath sent." LECTURE ril EccLEs. iv. 4 — 16. 4 " Jgain, I considered all'lravail, and every right work, that for this a man is envied of his neighbour. This (is J also vanitij andvexa- 5 tion of spirit. The fool foldeth his hands together, and eateth his own 6 flesh. Better fisj an handful (with J quietness, than both the 7 hands full f-withj travail and vexation of sfiirit. Then I returned, 8 and I saw vanity under the sun. There is one (alone, J and (there is J not a second ; yea, he hath neither child nor brother : yet (is there) no end of all his labour ; neither is his eye satisfied with riches; neither (saith he,) For whom do I labour, and bereave my soul of 9 good? This fis) also vanity, yea, it (is J a sore travail. Two (are) better than one ; because they have a good reward for their labour. 10 For if they fall, the 07ie will lift ufi his ftllow : but wo to him (that is) alone when he falleth ; for ^/«' hathj not another to help, him Jl up. Again, if two lie together, then they have heat : but how can 12 one be warm (alone? ) And if one pirevail against him, two shall 2 3 withstand him ; and a three-fold cord is not quickly broken. Better (is J a poor and a wise child than an old and foolish king, who will 14 no more be admonished. For out of prison he cometh to reign ; 15 whereas also (he that is J born in his kingdom becomcth poor. I con- sidered all the living which walk under the sun, with the second 16 child that shall stand up in his stead. fThere is) no end of all the people, feven) of all that have been before them : they also that come after shall not rejoice in him. Surely this also O'sJ vanity and vexation of spirit." Having recorded what, in his survey of the world, he had witnessed, of the odious character of the oppres- sors of mankind, the miseries endured by the poor and unbefriended victims of their prostituted power, and the distress of every generous spirit in being a spectator of such scenes: — Solomon next proceeds to notice those sources of disquietude which are peculiar to benefactors. For even they, in the midst of their disin- ECCLES. IV. 4 — 10. 155 terested labours for the good of others, and of the gene>= ral esteem of society thence arising, are not without their springs of bitterness. Verse 4. " Again, I considered all travail, and every right work ; that for this a man is envied of his neigh- bour. This (is) also vanity, and vexation of spirit." It is true, that a good man, who lays himself out for the benefit of others, expending his labour, and sacri- ficing his personal interest, to advance the happiness of mankind, will meet with general affection and regard ; 30 that for such a character, on his own account and on society's, from personal esteem and public spirit, some might be found willing even to risk and to forfeit life itself: — *' Scarcely for a righteous man will one die; yet perad venture for a good man some would even dare to die."* — But let a man in eminent station act ever so constantly from the purest principles of generosity or of patriotism ; he must not expect to escape the envy of malignant, or the jealousy of rival, spirits ; the latter seeking to supplant him and to rise upon his ruins, -^ the former, like Milton's Satan, «' Eyeing him askance with jealous leer malign," repining at his very excellencies, sickening at the sound of his praises, and gnawing their lips at his rising fame. Many, many a time, has Envy, by its open hostility, and still more successfully by its secret arts of detrac- tion and calumny, by whispered insinuations and hypo- critical regrets, by misrepresentation of motives and exaggeration of failures, blasted the reputation, and ruined the prosperity, of the most excellent and justly eminent characters. It is a principle of action in our fallen nature, proverbially subtle, and proverbially inde- fatigable in its devices and efforts to accomplish the. * Rom, V. 7 156 LECTURJi Vll. degradation of its unfortunate victim ; and it is also^ alas ! proverbially successful. " Wrath (is) cruel, and anger (is) outrageous ; but who (is) able to stand before envy?" Wrath and anger, although unmerciful and violent, yet are usually open and transient. But Envy *' mines unseen;" pursues, with unwearied activity, its underground machinations, and unites so much artful- ness with so much perseverance, that — *' who is able to stand before it?"— The dreadful effects of this malig- nant passion are variously exemplified in the records of sacred history. It was envy that murdered " righteous Abel," and stained the ground with the first effusion of human blood. It was envy that extinguished the feel- ings of natural affection in the breasts of Joseph's bre- thren, when they cast their brother into the pit, and "sat down to eat bread;" when they sold him for twenty silverlings, and, silencing the inward remon- strances of filial duty, with perfidious and relentless barbarity, "pierced with many sorrows" the heart of their aged and venerable parent, by presenting to his distracted sight the bloody vestment of his favourite boy. It was envy that instigated and animated the per- secution of Saul against the unoffending son of Jesse^ whose stone and sling had saved " the armies of the living God," and whom the virgins of Israel had placed above the monarch in their songs of triumph over the ^.anquished host of the Philistines. It was envy, in the bosoms of the priests and rulers of the Jews, that " de- nied the prince of life," and clamoured for the cruci- fixion of Him who was "holy, harmless, undefiled, and scpuralc from sinners."— Independently of the success of the devices of envy, whether its end is gained or not to the extent of its malignant wishes, it is in a high de- gree painful to the spirit of a good man to be the ob= ECCLES. IV. 4 16. 157 ject of so detestable a passion, or the means of its ex- citement in the bosoms of others. If he suspects its existence and operation, he must be subject to inces- sant apprehension ; and if not, his fall may come upon him by surprise :— ere he is aware that the mine has been formed, and the train laid, it may explode at once, to his inevitable and irretrievable ruin. Thus, while envy is " the rottenness of the bones" to the man who indulges it in his own breast, it is the most dangerous enemy to which the object of it can be exposed. It has been finely said of charity, that it is ^^ doubly blessed ; — it blesses him that gives, and him that takes." Envy is doubly cursed ; the subject and the object of it it curses alike. Like the star called Wormwood, that embittered all the rivers and fountains of water on which it fell, it poisons and bereaves of their sweetness all the sources and streams of human enjoyment. Amongst the objects of envy are to be included, not only such benevolent and patriotic characters as have been mentioned, but all who are favoured with any un- usual measure of temporal prosperity ; who labour with diligence, and are crowned with success ; even although nothing can with truth be laid to their charge inconsis- tent with the most unsullied integrity. Envy is little mindful of truth. Its malignant breath can sully the fairest fame. It hates its rival's success, and it grudges the very reputation for purity of principle with which that success is accompanied. " I considered all travail, and everjj right work, that for this a man is envied of his neighbour." Perceiving this to be the case, observing the jealousy which attends all descriptions of eminence, the envy consequent on successful exertions, and on rising pros- perity and honour, the spirit of detraction that is drawn 158 LECTURE VII. forth even by the toils and sacrifices of disinterested benevolence, and the unworthy recompense of a life devoted to the public good ; some are tempted, on this and similar grounds, to excuse and to indulge their natural propensity to indolence and inactivity. But this is foolish. All indolence, on whatever principles men may apologize for it, is folly : — Verse 5. " The fool foideth his hands together and eateth his own flesh." This may be understood, as I have hinted in intro- ducing the verse, as the picture of a sluggard, reducing himself to starvation and pining wretchedness, eating the very flesh off his bones, rather than put his hand to la- bour. '' (Yet) a little sleep, a litde slumber, a little Jbld- ing of the hands to sleep ! So shall thy poverty come as one that travaileth, and thy want as an armed man."* '^ The soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing." '^The sluggard will not plow by reason of the cold ; therefore shall he beg in harvest and have nothing."— Ltt no one, then, from the observation that ^' for all travail and every right work a man is envied of his neighbour," draw the hasty and unwise inference, that it is better to do nothing : for he who " folds his hands together," and by his idleness reduces himself to " eat- ing his own flesh," acts the part of a fool ; — shows him- self incapable of all right discrimination. If the sixth verse be connected with this, it may be interpreted as the language of the sluggard, affecting wisdom, and vindicating his conduct by a maxim of prudential consideration :— for of the sluggard it is else- where said, he is " wiser in his own conceit, than seven men that can render a reason." He may here be under- stood to say:— Let others, like fools, vainly toil, and * Prov.vj. 10, 11. ECCLES. IV. 4 — 6. 159 harass^ and vex themselves, if they will:— my maxim is, and wiser men than I have held it, " Better is a hand- ful with quietness, than both the hands full, with travail and vexation of spirit." — The sentiment, properly un- derstood and applied, is just. It occurs more than once in the Book of Proverbs : — *' Better is a little with the fear of the Lord, than great treasure and trouble there. with. Better (is) a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith." " Better (is) a dry morsel and quietness therewith, than a house full of sacrifices (with) strife."* But it is a sentiment far from being applicable to the indolent and useless fool, who " folds his hands together, and eats his own flesh ;" although such a fool may gravely cloak his folly under the misinterpreted sayings of wisdom. It relates to the man of moderate and chastened desires ; the man of <^ godliness with contentment;" who, instead of '' hast- ing to be rich," recollects, amidst his diligence in busi- ness, that " a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth ;" who prefers peace and quietness, and domestic comfort, even with com- paratively slender means, to superfluous exuberance, with bustle and strife. If, on the other hand, this sixth verse be connected with what follows, it will stand as the sentiment of Solomon himself, the sentiment of practical wisdom, opposed to the absurd conduct and self-inflicted misery of the friendless and solitary miser, who, with " both the hands full," has nothing but " travail and vexation of spirit." But there is still another interpretation which may be given to the fifth verse, which I mention rather for con- sideration than with confidence. May it not be de- * Prov. XV. 16, If. xvii. 1. 160 LfiCTURE Vit. signed to express the wretchedness of the man who indidges envy'? Observe the connection in which it stands. In the fourth verse, we have the evil to which even the man of benevolence and rectitude may be ex- posed from his becoming the object of envy. May not the fifth verse, then, be understood of the misery aris- ing from this malignant passion to him who is the sub- ject of it ? " The fool,"— the envious fool—" foldeth his hands together, and eateth his own flesh." The malignant temper preys upon him, and engrosses his thoughts :— sleeping and waking, it haunts him : — he is disinclined from labour : — he *' folds his hands together" in the attitude of fretful and malignant mus- ing; racking his invention for means to accomplish the odious purposes of his heart. But he is inwardly wretched :— he *' eats his own flesh" with vexation of spirit :— he pines and wastes away in sullen jealousy. He may succeed in effecting the downfal and ruin of his rival; but he is himself a miserable fool. Verses 7, 8. " Then I returned, and I saw vanity under the sun. There is one (alone) and (there is) not a second ; yea, he hath neither child nor brother ; yet is there no end of all his labour ; neither is his eye satisfied with riches ; neither (saith he,) For whom do I labour and bereave my soul of good ? This is also vanity ; yea, it is a sore travail." This is a strikingly graphical, though brief descrip- tion, of the avaricious keenness and carefulness of a toiling, griping, hoarding, insulated miser.—" There is one, and there is not a second"— no heir apparent^ no connection, either by blood or by particular friend- ship, to succeed him ; '< neither child nor brother," (that is, no near relative,) to inherit his accumulated treasures:—" yet is there no end of all his labour:" ECCLES. IV. 4 16. 161 he toils with unintermitting solicitude, " rising early and sitting late," nor ever can bear the thought of re- tiring from active business, as long as he can add a single penny by it to his store : — '' neither is his eye satisfied with riches ;" constantly either contemplating his acquisitions, or on the eager look-out for more ; never saying, It is enough ; a greedy receiver, but a reluctant and parsimonious giver. He takes no enjoy- ment of his wealth ; but starves in the midst of abun- dance ; not only " labouring," but ^' bereaving his soul of good ;" living with the most pitiful penuriousness ; grudging himself every morsel of meat, every rag of clothing, every common comfort of life. And the habit grows upon him ; he becomes increasingly avaricious as he advances in wealth and in years ; no selfish con- sideration can move him, nor any claim of charity touch his soul ; his hollow eye contracts the timid glance of lurking suspicion ; his whole countenance the marked and settled expression of anxiety and unfeeling narrow- ness ; and his wasted frame, his antique and thread-bare clothing, and every part of his appearance, betrays the confirmed and unimpressible miser. Those who first assigned this designation to the character were happy in their selection. Miser sin^'ifiQs ivretched ; and surely there is not on earth a more pitiable object than the man here described ; the unhappy victim of one of the strangest aberrations of understanding ; one of the most unaccountable contradictions to all right feeling, and to every ordinary principle of human nature, that is to be found amongst the intellectual and moral varieties of the species. Solomon's description shows us that these varieties have, in every age, been much the same. Many a time has it since been realised, with wonderful accuracy.— X 16S LECTURE Vn. The character may be traced to various origins. lo some instances, it has arisen from a fatal error in edu- cation,—from early and ill-judged lessons of excessive parsimony impressed upon the youthful mind, gradu- ally forming in the heart an undue " love of money,'* a habitual desire of getting, and dread of losing, or of being necessitated to give away : — in other cases, from the apprehension and presentiment of a diseased mind,— a hypochrondriacal foreboding of approaching poverty, of dying in want ; an evil, to which every penny that is lost or parted with is of course conceived by the dis- ordered imagination to contribute : — and in others still, from the weak-minded vanity of being noticed and spoken of, during life, and after death, as the possessor of so much wealth, or as the man that had left it behind him.— From whatever source it may have arisen, and whatever may have promoted its growth, it is well de- nominated *' vanity and a sore travail.''^ The poor rich fool lives in misery, and dies unlamented. Those, whosoever they may be, to whom he bequeaths his wealth, give him little thanks for it. He has only given it when he could hold it no longer. He has not parted with it ; he has been obliged to leave it ; and not one farthing of it, they know well, should they ever have touched, could he by any possibility have retained pos- session. They are glad the useless old fellow is out of the way ; they lay him in the dust without a sigh ; and with secret self-gratulation, take possession of his hoards. The character and dreary friendlessness of the wretched miser probably suggested to Solomon's mind the subject of the following verses,— the benefits of society and friendship. Verses 9—12. ^< Two (are) better than one ; because ECCLES. IV. 4 — -16. 163 they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow ; but wo to him (that is) alone when he falleth ; for (he hath) not another to help him up. Again, if two lie together then they have heat : but how can one be warm (alone ?) And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him ; and a three-fold cord is not easily broken." The figures which are employed in these verses arc in themselves so plain as to require no explanation. They are all intended to illustrate the same general sen- timent,— the advantages of union and co-operation; and the sentiment may be applied to every description of faithful and well-principled alliance, — to marriage, to friendship, to Christian communion. Many and valua- ble are the benefits of such association amidst the changes of this uncertain world ; some common to all the varieties of union, and some peculiar to each. It affords to the parties mutual counsel and direction, especially in seasons of perplexity and embarrassment; mutual sympathy, consolation, and care, in the hour of calamity and distress; mutual encouragement in anxiety and depression ; mutual aid, by the joint ap- plication of bodily or mental energy to difiicult and laborious tasks ; mutual relief amidst the fluctuations of worldly circumstances, the abundance of the one reciprocally supplying the deficiencies of the other; mutual defence and vindication, when the character of either is injuriously attacked and defamed ; and (what may be considered as particularly appropriate to the phraseology of the tenth verse) mutual reproof and af- fectionate expostulation when either has, through the power of temptation, fallen into sin : — " Wo to him that is alone when he" so " falleth, and hath not another to help hinri up !" no one to care for his soul, and to restore him to the paths of righteousness. 164 LECTURE yii. In all cases, union, — affectionate, principled, faithful union, — the connection and intercourse of kindred souls, —must be eminently productive of reciprocal satisfac- tion and delight. As " when two lie together they have heat ;" so two hearts, in friendly contact, warm each other vath the glow of mutual love, at once imparting and receiving sensations of the purest pleasure. Nor is the enjoyment, exquisite though it be, arising from the interchange of congenial affections, the whole of the benefit. Such union gives stability and strength : — ^' if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him ; and a three-fold cord is not quickly broken." — The fable of the bundle of rods, by which the dying father taught his sons the benefit of union, has been familiar to all of you from your childhood. The rods, when bound together, resisted all their efforts to break them ; but when untied, and taken one by one, they were succes- sively snapped with ease. The '* three-fold cord" con- veys the same lesson. Twined together, the filaments are strong ; untwined and separate, they are slender and feeble. Thus it is, that a union of interests, coun- sels, and efforts gives vigour and animation, both in spiritual connections, and in the relations of nature and of business. It was on the principle here stated, ^' two are better than one," that the marriage relation was, in part at least, originally founded. " The Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone ; I will make him a help meet for him."— It is on the same principle that men collect together in society, and that all their various combinations and partnerships are formed, for the successful prosecution of particular ends. Righ- teous and wicked alike recognize and act upon this prin- ciple ; the former for the accomplishment of good, the ECCLES. IV. 4 — 16. 165 latter for the perpetration of evil.— It is on the same principle too, beloved brethren in the Lord, that all the institutions of social religion have their vindication and their use. He who " knoweth what is in man" was well aware that it was not good for his people's spiritual interests, that they should be alone ; each individual pursuing his course by himself. He commanded their association in churches, in the bond of spiritual love, and appointed ordinances of public worship, and laws of social intercourse : that, in the due observance of these, they might strengthen one another's hands and encourage one another's hearts, and mutually " pro- voke to love and to good works." The concluding verses of the chapter contain some of the mortifications of royalty, of which Solomon might well speak with freedom, being himself the wearer of a crovi/n. Royalty, alas ! is not always associated with wis- dom : and where wisdom is awanting, advancing age very generally adds to imbecility and folly, self-will, obstinacy, and headstrong contempt of counsel : — Verse 13- " Better (is) a poor and wise child, than an old and foolish king, Avho will no more be admonished." — " Better" — that is, happier, and more really useful. The influence of the " wise child" is limited indeed ; but as far as it reaches in the humble sphere of life in which his lot is cast, it is essentially good: but the " foohsh king" has extensive power ; and when power is in league with folly, the boundaries of its extent are only the limits of its mischief. Nothing indeed can be conceived more deplorable, than imbecility united with obstinacy, and both in combination with authority and force. Further : the *' wise child/' although poor, is, by 166 LECTURE VII. the possession of wisdom, in the way to reputation, preferment, and honour ; whereas the '^ foolish king," in the midst of riches and external glory, is, by his folly, in the way to poverty, degradation, and disgrace. The vvisdom of the one may advance him to a sceptre ; the folly of the other, as recorded experience testifies, may wrest the sceptre from his hand. This is probably the meaning of the fourteenth verse, in which Solomon assigns the reason of his preference : — " For out of prison he cometh to reign ; whereas also (he that is) born in his kingdom becometh poor." The " poor and wise child" rises from the state of meanness and of oppression to a throne ; whilst the " old and foolish king," though " born in his king- dom, becometh poor." The wisdom of the one, when known and appreciated, rescues him from oppression, draws him forth from obscurity, and promotes him to influence, and honour, and command. The folly of the other, felt in its mischievous and galling effects, shakes the stability of his hereditary throne. Though he has obtained the kingdom by inheritance, and, through the sufferance of a burdened, and dishonoured, and harassed people, has long continued to wear the crown in this right, from regard, it may be, to former princes of the same dynasty ; yet by his mal-administration he ex- hausts his treasures, destroys the national credit, brings his government to bankruptcy, and himself either to a necessary though constrained abdication, or to a forca- ble deposition from his dignity, by his own subjects, or by the interference of a foreign power. — There is possibly an allusion in the passage, (and if there be, it can be no more than an allusion, for in some respects there is no parallelism,) to the oppression and advance- ment of Joseph : on which supposition, the verse will i ECCLES. IV. 4 — 16. 167 contain a general sentiment under a reference to a par- ticular case. Another view of this verse has suggested itself to my mind, which it may be worth while just to mention, although the explanation already given seems the pre- ferable one. — " Out of prison he cometh to reign" may be interpreted, not of the child, but of the king. A monarch of the character described is a prisoner in his palace. He knows, and cannot but feel, his unpopu- larity : and when he comes forth amongst his subjects in the administration of his government, he comes forth, like a prisoner from confinement, to which he is imme- diately to be remanded again ; feeling none of the con- fidence of freedom, none of the fearless security and unreserved openness, of him who reigns in the hearts of a grateful and happy people, but full of apprehensions, and jealousies, and alarms ; suspicious of all about him, and even of the very guards that have sworn fidelity to his royal person :— a state of mind by which the latter days of some " old and foolish kings" have been most fearfully distracted. " Whereas also, (he that is) born in his kingdom be- cometh poor," will then refer to the tendency of his impolitic and infatuated measures, to ruin trade and commerce, and reduce his hapless subjects to poverty and wretchedness. The former view, however, presents a natural con- trast between the two descriptions of character mentioned in the thirteenth verse, in regard to their respective ten- dencies ; of the one to elevation and honour, of the other to depression and disgrace : and it is therefore, in all probability, the true meaning. In the two last verses of the chapter there is a good deal of obscurity ; — 168 LECTURE VII. " I considered all the living who walk under the sun, with the second child that shall rise up in his stead. (There is) no end of all the people, (even) of all that have been before them : they also that come after shall not rejoice in him. Surely this also (is) vanity, and vexation of spirit." The general idea intended to be conveyed by these verses seems to be, the inconstancy and fickleness of popular attachment to favourite rulers^ and the mortifi- cation thence arising to the possessors of Royal ho- nour. " I considered all the living that walk under the sun with the second child that shall rise up in his stead;" — that is, with the child his second, or successor. Such is the meaning of the same word in the eighth verse, where the solitary miser is represented as having no second, — no successor to his wealth. So here, the child that is second to the reigning prince is the child that is to succeed him in the government, — the heir appa- rent to the throne Solomon "^' considered," not only how rapidly, how immediately, upon the demise of the pre- sent occupant of the throne, the attachment shown to him was transferred to his successor, how quickly ser- vility to the latter jostled out the memory of the for- mer ; but he further observed, that even in the old king's lifetime, when symptoms discovered themselves of his end drawing near, the heir was sedulously court- ed, though v/ith greater and less degrees of delicacy ; interest was made with him, and insinuating adulation addressed to him ; he became the object of attention and solicitation ; whilst the aged sire, whose favour, having lost its prospective influence, had declined in value, was neglected, and sunk into contempt. He marked the prevailing propensity of men, whether from motives of self-interest, or from the mere love of ECCLES. IV. 4 — 16. 169 change, to disregard the setting and to worship the ri- sing sun. This fickleness, having its source in the principles of man's fallen nature, had existed in preceding ages* existed in Solomon's own days, and was more than likely to continue in after times: — Verse 16. " (There is) no end of all the people, (even) of all that have been before them ; ihey also that come after shall not rejoice in him. Surely this also (is) vanity and vexation of spirit." — " JVo end^^ seems here to mean, no fixed point in which the people can rest with any settled satisfac- tion ; they have no stability ; they never reach an ob- ject in which their gratification is permanent, — a goal of their capricious and fluctuating desires. They are ever fickle, ever fond of novelty and change. — ^' There is no end to all the people." They have all, in this re- spect, the same generic character ; in having no termi- nating point and settled resting place to their views and wishes. So it was with " all the people," forming the generation of Solomon's contemporaries; so it had been with *' all who were before them ;" and " they also who were to come after" would discover the same tendency. Should it be doubted, whether the word translated end be susceptible of the signification thus assigned to it, then the meaning must be : — " There is no end to all the people ;" new generations have been continually following each other, and the same course of succession is now going on, and shall continue in after ages ; and each generation in its turn brings with it its own pecu- liarities, its own likings and dislikings, — ne^ men, in- fluenced by new circumstances, seeking after new things, and attaching themselves to new favourites, and new systems of administration. Y 170 LECTURE VII. Such had been the case. The inconstancy complained of, Solomon knew, from ancient history, to have cha- racterized former generations. He had even seen it af- fcctingly exemplified within the same generation, in the life-time of his own father. It had been strikingly displayed, in that " cloudy and dark day" of David's reign, when " the hearts of the men of Israel were after Absalom," alienated from the father, who had com- menced his reign under such decided indications of popular attachment, by the insinuating flatteries and promises of his unnatural son. And still more recently, in the extreme age of " the man after God's heart," at a time when the reverence of filial affection ought to have restrained the stirrings and aspirations of an ambi- tious spirit, Adonijah had "exalted himself, and said, I will be king ;" had *• prepared him chariots and horse- men, and fifty men to run before him ;" and had formed a faction in support of his claims ; thus ungratefully re- quiting the partial fondness of a father, by disturbing and embittering his old age, and drawing away from him the affections of his people ere his time of depar- ture was come. How afflicting this to the Jat/ier / And how mortifying to the monarch, to witness the readi- ness of his people to attach themselves to another, even while he himself, who had " gone in and out before them" during the best of his days, was yet alive ! And even in the case of Solomon himself, the necessity for whose immediate proclamation arose from the rebellion of Adonijah, such feelings of secret mortification could not fail to mingle with the sentiments of parental and regal satisfaction. Although Solomon was the dear and promising son of a beloved mother, and his successor ill the throne by previous Divine intimation and his own delighted approval, yet the public rejoicings at his ECCLES. IV. 4 — 16. 17 < coronation, when " the people came up after him, piping with pipes, and exulting with great joy, and shouting, 'God save king Solomon!' so that the city rang again, and the earth rent with the sound of them,"* however gratifying to the ear both of the loving father and the patriot king, could not but draw the sigh from his heart, and the inward exclamation, " Vanity of vani- ties!"— when in the plaudits of a rejoicing people he heard the name of another so easily substituted for his own. And the scene must have been affecting to the son, as well as to the father ; royal anticipations mingling with tender fdial regrets. It read him a salutary lesson of humility in the very outset of his reign, when sur- rounded with so much that was fitted to intoxicate and bewilder a youthful mind. It was now a mortifying reflection to Solomon, that the same fickleness was still an attribute of the popular character ; and that what had been seen by him, in the case of his father, would soon be repeated in his own and in his successor's. The heir apparent would be courted, as the future source of coveted honours : and he too, on his rising to the throne, would have his day, and in his turn be neglected, and give place to another : — " They also that come after him shall not rejoice in him." — This is surely a galling and humbling conside- ration to Royalty. Let not the young prince exult in the court that is paid to him. Let him consider how much of it is the product of selfishness ; and be assured that his own day of mortification is coming, and may not be distant. Let the rising sun, in the morning of his glory, and amidst his crowd of worshippers, remember that he must set ; and that even ere he hath gone down, another luminary, emerging from the opposite horizon. * I Kings i, 39,40,45. i72 LECTURE VII. will throw his evening splendours into shade, and draw away from him the admiring eyes and selfish acclama- tions of those flatterers, who hailed his own ascent, and waited with their adulations on his course ! This thought is enough, of itself, to repress the swellings of vain-glory, and to heave with a sigh the bosom that is invested with the purple ;— " Surely, this also (is) vani- ty, and vexation of spirit!" From this passage let us, in the Jlrst place, learn, to let nothing discourage us in well-doing. Let not the consideration in the fourth verse, that *' for every right work a man is envied of his neigh- bour," restrain us from the active and fearless pursuit of what is glorifying to God, or profitable to men. On the contrary, " whatsoever our hand findeth to do," for either of these ends, or for the comfort and reputa- tion and usefulness of ourselves and families, let us *' do it with our might." If we should be the ob- jects of envy, it is better that we be envied for emi- nence in good deeds, than for success and prosperity in evil. This is true, indeed, of all descriptions of suf- fering, as well as of what arises from envy. *' (It is) better, if the will of God be so, that ye suffer for well- doing, than for evil-doing."* It is a man^s honour to be envied on such grounds. And if this malignant spirit should gratify itself in the invention and propagation of reproach and calumny, we shall have the inward satis- faction of knowing its falsehood ; *' having a good con- science,"—a treasure on such occasions, of inestimable value, which " cannot be gotten for gold, neither shall hilver be weighed for the price of it;" the possession of which will support the victim of envy, and be *' his rcjoiGing," even if that unholy passion should be sue- * 1 Pet. iii. IT. ECCLES. IV. 4 16. 173 ressful in its unworthy machinations to " cast him down from his excellency." — We cannot and ought not to be indifferent about the opinion of our fellow- men, and the reputation we hold amongst them. Reli- gious principle concurs with the feelings of nature, in inculcating the propriety of preventing and disarming envy, and counteracting, by all honourable means, its mischievous devices. Yet let us, my dear brethren, be under the habitual influence of a higher principle than regard to the judgment of men. Let the fear of God rule in our hearts ; — a sacred awe of his supremacy, a conscience " quick as the apple of an eye" to the dic- tates of his will, a constant reference of all things to his glory as our end, and, in dependence on his faithfulness, a believing anticipation of the fulfilment of his " ex- ceeding great and precious promises." — " Commit thy way unto the Lord ; trust also in him, and he will bring (it) to pass : and he shall bring forth thy righteousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noon-day." " Let us not be weary in well-doing : for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not." Having rightly improved our talents in our Master's employ, under the influence of faith and love, he will say to us at last — " Well done, good and faithful servant ; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things ; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."* Secondly. " Take heed, and beware of covetousnessJ*' —There are few passions more progressive in their na- ture than avarice, when a man has once fairly yielded to it so far as to give it a place in his bosom as a principle of conduct. Beware of it, then, in its earliest and most specious commencements. Give no ear to its penurious and niggardly suggestions. It is mean, sordid, and de- * Psal. xsxvii. 5, 6. G«l. vi. 9. Matt, sxv. 9.1. 174 LECTURE Vll. spicable in itself, and being directly opposed, in princi- ple and practice, to the ends for which wealth, accord- ing to the maxims of the Bible, ought to be sought, it is contrary to the express will of God, the giver of all that is enjoyed by men. The duty of a Christian is, to ** labour, working with his hands the thing that is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth:''^ to *' honour the Lord with his substance, and with the first-fruits of all his increase." — O beware, (for the heart is deceitful above all things,)— beware of cloaking the odious principle against v/hich I have now, in the words of the Saviour himself, been admonishing you, under the sage and plausible maxims of discretion, and economy, and providence. The maxims may be just; but the use made of them is an infamous perversion. Nothing, however, is more common, than to cloak what is evil under the specious semblance of vvhat is good. How often do we see men, and men too professing the benevolent religion of Him who, *' though he was rich, for our sakes became poor," anxiously scraping toge- ther with one hand, and holding fast with the other, as if in jealous dread of a single atom escaping, and pal- liating and excusing their conduct, by common-place observations, delivered with the air of deep and oracular wisdom, as to the necessity and duty of carefulness, and the sin and danger of extravagance. In condemn- ing one extreme, they fancy they have justified its op- posite. Some men are foolishly profuse; therefore they must be hard and niggardly : — some men give away what is not their own ; therefore they must take care how they part with what is : — they cannot do every thing ; and this is their regular apology for doing no- thing. Have not you met with such characters ? — and ijave not }'ou despised them ? Beware, then, of ever ECCLES, IV. 4 — "16. 175 becoming their imitators. *' Look not, every man, on his own things, but every man also on the things of others:* let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus." I repeat his words : " Take heed, and beware of covetousness."— Ye parents, beware, in the education of your children, of impressing on their minds the wretched maxims of penurious hoarding, and grudging parsimony. Prudence and economy, in- deed, they ought to be taught, both by precept and ex- ample : but oh ! let it be a generous prudence, and not a selfish economy. Of extravagance, there are two de- scriptions; the extravagance of selfishness, and the ex- travagance of charity. The one grudges no expendi- ture of which the end is self- gratification ; the other is the indiscreet overflowing of a generous heart, under the impulse of feeling rather than of judgment, The former requires to be steadily restrained. The latter must be managed with much caution and gentleness^ lest, in cur attempts to repress the practice, we crush the principle ; lest in reprimanding and punishing pro- fusion, we destroy charity. Do not frown on an act of generosity, because, in the glow of youthful emotion, the limits of prudence have been overstepped. Give your approving smile to the motive, whilst you gently show the injudiciousness of the deed. If the case be such, that to criticise the act might expose the princi- ple to hazard, spare your criticism ; and let time and experience, and growing knowledge, be the correctors of the conduct. These will gradually modify and regu- late the inward impulses and the outward acts of cha- rity. But beware of the encroachments of avarice. No- thing can be more incongruous than a youthful spirit under the rule of this odious passion, and nothing more gloomily unpromising. To teach your children avarice. 176 LECTURE Vlt. is to teach them what will ^* grow with their growth 3 and strengthen with their strength ; and, in its pro- gress and maturity, will make them despicable in so- ciety, miserable in themselves, and useless to others. Thirdly. Let us, my dear Christian brethren, rejoice in our union, and steadily maintain it, in the exercise of principled and faithful love ; that we may secure to ourselves and to one another its inestimable advanta- ges.— To no kind of association is the saying, " two are better than one," more decidedly applicable, than to that of the fellowship of the church of Christ. Dis- union is, in every view, disheartening and debilitating ; cordial union animating and strengthening.— Universal experience says so ; — our own experience says so. A church divided against itself cannot stand, any more than a kingdom or a family. In division, Satan obtains an advantage over us, through the want of the mutual counsels, admonitions, and encouragements, of Chris- tian love ; and he obtains an advantage too over the cause of the Redeemer, by slackening the vigour of cordial co-operation for its advancement. ^' Suffer ye," then, " the word of exhortation." Let me affectionately beseech you, in the language of inspired authority, " that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called j with all lowliness and meekness, with long-suf- fering, forbearing one another in love ; endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace :" — " that ye stand fast in one spirit, with one mind, striv- ing together for the faith of the gospel :" — " that ye hold fast the profession of your faith without wavering, for he is faithful who hath promised ; and consider one another, to provoke unto love and to good works ; not forsaking the assembling of yourselves together, as the manner of some (is,) but exhorting (one another ;} and EccLEs. IV. 4 — 16. lyy so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.'* Agreeably to the description in the verses that have been under review, of the mutual benefits of union, " warn them that are unruly, comfort the feeble-mind- ed, support the weak, be patient toward all men." " Fi- nally, brethren, be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace ; and the God of love and peace shall be with you." Thus shall you know, by increas- ing experience, " how good and how pleasant (it is,) for brethren to dwell together in unity ;" and " the Lord will command the blessing, (even) life for ever- more."* Fourthly. Beware of seeking your happiness in the favour and applause of men. Alas ! it is fickle and mutable as the very wind. -•• Say, what is fame It is a fancied life in others breath, A thing beyond us, even before our death." The courtier, whose wishes and expectations are de- pendent on the smiles and the sunshine of royal favour; and the prince, who looks for constant enjoyment in the possession of popularity and public applause, both trust to what is proverbially capricious and insecure. *' Trust not in man, whose breath is in his nostrils ; for wherein is he to be accounted of?" — Let not the venerable monarch of these realms, our good old king, be the victim of such popular caprice. Let him enjoy, to the close of his days, the satisfaction imparted by the attachment of a loyal people. Let not his grey hairs be despised ; let not our sympathy be refused to his infirmities and sufferings ; let not the respect be for- gotten that is due to the declining sun.f And, whilst ♦ Eph. iv. 1—3. Pliil. i. 17. Heb. x. 23—25. 2 Cor.xiii. 11. Psal, cxxxiii. 1, 3, \ The reader requires to be again reminded of the time when these Lectures were delivered. References of this kind to our late reverend Monarch I could not find in mv heart to erase. 178 LECTURE Vir. ECCLES. IV. 4 16. we set an example of steadfast loyalty to our earthly monarch, let us, above all, adhere, with undeclining attachment, to the cause and service and glory of the " King of kings," who fills the throne and sways the sceptre of an eternal dominion ; who can never give place to a successor ; and who is supremely entitled to the growing admiration and the everlasting attach- ment of all his subjects. — In his immutable favour, too, let us seek our enjoyment. It is the only enduring hap- piness ; springing from the only source that is unsus- ceptible of change. In his smile, there lurks no deceit ; in his assurances of regard, there is no duplicity or simulation; " his gifts and calling are without repen- tance ;" and in his Royal clemency and paternal love, there is the fulness of eternal joy. *' Whom have I in heaven (but thee?) and there (is) none upon earth whom I desire in preference to thee. My flesh and my heart faileth ; (but) God (is) the strength of my heart, and my portion forever." "(There be) many that say, Who will show us any good? Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us : thou hast put gladness in my heart, more than ia the time (that) their corn and their wine increased."* * Psal.lxxUi, 25, 26. Ibid, iv, 6, 7. LECTURE VIII. ECCLES. V. 1 — 7. 1 " Kcefi thy foot ivhen thou goest to the house of God, and be mor: ready to hear than to give the sacrifice of fools : for they cojisider 2 not that they do evil. Be not rash with thy mouthy and let not thine heart be hasty to utter (any J thing before God : for God fi^J in 3 heaven, and thou ufio7t earth; therefore let thy words be few. For a dream cometh through the multitude of business ; and a fool's 4 voice (is known J by multitude of words. When thou vowestavotu unto God, defer not to fiay it : for (he halh) no pleasure in fools : 5 fiay that which thou hast vowed. Better (is it J that thou shouldest 6 not vow, than that thou shouldest vow and not fiay. Suffer not thy mouth to cause thy flesh to sin ; neither say thou before the angel, that it (was J an error : wherefore should God be angry at thy 7 voice, and destroy the work of thine hands ? For in the multitude of dreams and many words (there are) also ( divers J vanities : but fear thou God" Amidst the lessons which God teaches us, both by his word and by his providence, of the vanity of human life, and its diversified pursuits and enjoyments, and amidst the melancholy experience, prevailing around us and reaching ourselves, of the insufficiency of learn- ing, riches, pleasure, power, and honour, to confer un- mingled and permanent happiness, true religion is the only effectual supporter of the mind. It alone is exempt from the general verdict, " All is vanity;" a verdict comprehending whatever pertains to this world and to time. But religion is not of this world, nor does time limit the enjoyment of its blessings. It is of celes- tial origin, and possesses a kindred immortality with the Being who is the object of its regards. It affords to man genuine and substantial happiness, both in possession 180 LECTURE VIII. and in hope. It alone imparts the true relish of the bles- sings of life, and it alone can lighten its burdens, and mitigate its woes. Intercourse with God strengthens against the temptations, and supports under the trials, that arise from intercourse with men. The very thought of his favour, which is ^' better than life," makes every thing else, by comparison, appear in its proper light, and thus prevents us from being, either unduly elevated, or excessively depressed, by the vicissitudes of time ; teaching us to be, *' when we rejoice as though we re- joiced not, and when we weep as though we wept not, and when we buy as though we possessed not, and when we use this world as not abusing (it;) because the fashion of this world passeth away."*^ The ordinances of the House of God, the sacred ex- ercises of social worship, have ever been the delight of the true Israel ; attendance on them infusing vigour and animation into their souls ; and the privation of them depressing their minds, enfeebling all their spiri- tual efforts, extracting their sweetness from all earthly enjoyments, and exciting the most vehement and long- ing desires for their restoration. *' How amiable (are) thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts ! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord ; my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God. Blessed (are) they that dwell in thy house ; they will be still praising thee :" — ^' O God, thou (art) my God ; early will I seek thee : my soul thirsteth for thee ; my flesh longeth for thee, in a dry and thirsty land, nl.ere no water is ; to see thy power and thy glory, so (as) I have seen thee in the sanctuary :"— <' As the hart pant- eth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living * 1 Cor. vii. 29— 3 L ECCLES. V. 1 7. 181 God ; when shall I come, and appear before God ?— For I had gone with the multitude ; I went with them to the House of God with the voice of joy and praise, with the multitude that kept holy day :"—" I was glad when they said nnto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord."* Such, however, is the insinuating influence of the vanities of life, and of the things of time and sense in general, that we are in constant danger of allowing our thoughts about them to intrude on our religious exer- cises, and to mingle with the most sacred feelings of devotion ; nay sometimes, (such is their power over our hearts,) of performing our acts of worship in a light, inconsiderate, and merely external manner, " drawing nigh to God with our lips, and honouring him with our mouths, whilst our hearts are far from him." In this way, in proportion as our minds are thus roving and divided and pre-occupied, we turn our religion itself to vanity. It becomes absolutely worthless ; an insult to God, and profitless to ourselves. It loses at once its nature 5.nd its influence. — Such being the powerful ten- dency of the vanities of the world, Solomon addresses a special warning against it. Verse 1. ^' Keep thy foot when thou goest to the house of God, and be more ready to hear, than to give the sacrifice of fools ; for they consider not that they do evil." The " House of God" was the Temple, which So. lomon himself had built for the residence and worship of the God of Israel. But the admonition applies, in the full spirit of it, to Christian as well as to Jewish worship,— to the service of God under every dispensa- tion of religion. * Pial, Ixxxiv. 1—4. Ixiii. 1, 2. s^ii. 1— 4. cxxii. I, 18^ LECTURE Vlir. " Keep thy foot :"~that is, Go not with rash and harsty step, indicating light and inconsiderate thought- lessness. Think of the nature of the place ; and think of the purpose for which you go thither. The place is " the house of God ;" the chosen residence of Jehovah; where He whom *' the heaven of heavens cannot con- tain," " in very deed dwells with man upon earth ;" where he hath <* put his Name," and manifested his glory :— and you go thither, to engage in the worship of this God, the living God, " the high and lofty One who inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy." Go thither, therefore, with serious reflection. Remember how the God whom you are about to worship said, on different occasions, when he appeared to his most fa- voured servants, " Put off thy shoe from thy foot, for the place where thou standest is holy ground :" and let your spirits, in all your approaches to him, be under the influence of " reverence and godly fear." '' And be more ready to hear, than to offer the sa- orifice of fools."— The ^* sacrifice of fools" means, I think, the sacrifice that is offered without the heart ; in presenting which, the external service is performed, and performed, it may be, with a scrupulous adherence to the prescribed ritual, but without the devotion of " the inner man," without spiritual homage, without a sen- timent of piety. This is a fool's offering ; because there cannot be greater folly than to imagine the searcher of hearts to be pleased with it. How strong are the testi- monies to the contrary, addressed by his prophets to his ancient people, who ^' made their boast of the law, whilst through breaking it they dishonoured God."— " To what purpose (is) the multitude of your sacri- fices unto me ? saidi the Lord : I am full of the burnt- offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts, and I delight ECCLES. V. 1 7. i83 not In the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he-goats. When ye come to appear before me, who hath required this at your hand, to tread my courts ? Bring no more vain oblations : incense is an abomination unto me ; the new-moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with : (it is) iniquity, even the solemn meeting. Your new-moons and your appointed feasts, my soul hateth ; they are a trouble unto me ; I am weary to bear (them.) And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you ; yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear : your hands are full of blood." — Such services were not only worthless and unacceptable ; they were hateful to God He repre- sents himself as holding them in abhorrence, as much as he did the blood of an unclean victim, or even of a human sacrifice. Such seems to be the spirit of the fol- lowing verses :— " He that killeth an ox, (is as if) he slew a man ; he that sacrificeth a lamb, (as if) he cut off a dog's neck ; he that offereth an oblation, as (if he offered) swine's blood ; he that burneth incense, (as if) he blessed an idol : yea, they have chosen their own ways, and their soul delighteth in their abominations. I also will choose their delusions, and will bring their fears upon them ; because when I called none did an- swer ; when I spoke they did not hear ; but they did evil before mine eyes, and chose (that) in which I delighted not." — These are expanded statements of the sentiment more briefly expressed in the Book of Pro- verbs, '^ The sacrifice of the Vv'icked (is) an abomina- tion to the Lord :" to which, on one occasion, it is added, " How much more (when) he doeth it with a wicked mind !" — that is, when not only his general character is ungodly, but there is some special evil pur- pose cloaked under the particular act of hypocritical devotion. 184? LECTURE Vlir. " Be more ready to hear" than to offer a heartless and detested sacrifice :— to hear, with a sincere and earn- est desire to know and to obey the will of God. Men may hear, and even profess a willingness to hear, when there is no disposition to obey. The character of the Jews in Ezekiel's time is one, alas ! of no very rare occurrence : " Also, thou Son of man, the children of thy people still are talking concerning thee, by the walls, and in the doors of the houses, and speak one to another, every man to his brother, saying. Come, I pray you, and hear what is the word that cometh forth from the Lord. And they come unto thee as the people cometh , and they sit before thee (as) my people ; and they hear thy words, but they will not do them : for with their mouth they show much love, (but) their heart goeth after its covetousness : and lo, thou (art) unto them as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice and can play well on an instrument ; for they hear thy words, but they do them not."*— But in the passage before us, and in many others, hearing is equivalent to obeying. Thus, when Samuel says to Saul, in the full spirit of the sentiment we are considering; *^ Hath the Lord (as great) delight in burnt-offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord ? Behold to obey (is) better than sacrifice, (and) to hearken than the fat of rams;"~^d'cr^ Oh remember, it will not have as little in- fluence on our future destinies. Ask yourselves how it has been spent. Ask yourselves how all the years of your past life have been spent. How many have you lived ? and what have you been doing ? Have you anti- cipated eternity ? Have you made any provision for your immortal existence ? Have you, in the way of his own appointment, secured the blessing of God, and a title to the inheritance above ? Are there not many of my hearers whose consciences say JVo to such enqui- ries ? — who have lived twenty, thirty, forty, sixty, nay,, perhaps fourscore years, " without God in the world," — *' without Christ and without hope ?"— -Ohl trifle no longer with interests of such tremendous magnitude. <^Live not the rest of your time in the flesh, to the lusts of men, but to the will of God." " Choose the good part that shall never be taken away from you." <^ Seek ye the Lord while he may be found ; call upon him while he is near." " The Spirit and the Bride say, Come ; and let him that heareth say. Come ; and who- soever will, let him come, and take of the water of life freelv." LECTURE XI. EccLEs. vii. 1 — 6. 1 "v^ C good J name fisj better than precious oinlnient ; and the day 2 of death than the day of one's birth. ("It is J better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting : for that fisJ the 3 end of all me?i ; and the living ivill lay fit J to his heart. Sorrow CisJ better than laughter : for by the sadness of the countenance the 4 heart is made better. The heart of the wise fisJ in the house of 5 mourning: but the heart of fools fisJ in the house of mirth, fit is J better to hear the rebuke of the wise than for a man to hear the 6 songs of fools. For as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so C^^y the laughter of the fool. This also (is J vanity. Having represented, in a great variety of views, the vanity of human life, and of its numerous and diversi- fied pursuits, Solomon now proceeds to set before us the counsels of wisdom, for the regulation of our de- sires and the guidance of our conduct in this vain and transitory world. Some of these, like many of the say- ings of our Divine Lord, stand in direct opposition to the ordinary sentiments and practices of mankind. But they are not, on this account, the less worthy of our most serious attention : for it need not surely be matter of surprise, that the thoughts and the feelings of a fallen and depraved creature, whose heart is corrupt, and whose understanding is the dupe of its corruption, should not coincide with the mind of the infinitely wise and the infinitely holy ; — 'that to such a creature the directions and admonitions of Heaven should, in many instances, appear paradoxical and extravagant. Verse 1. " A (good) name (is) better than precious 253 LECTURE XI. ointment; and the day of death than the day of one's birth." Perhaps this might, without impropriety, be consi- dered as a reply to the question in tlie close of the pre- ceding chapter : " Who knoweth what is good for man all the days of his vain life which he spendeth as a sha- dow? for who can tell a man what shiill be after him under the sun ? — There is one thing, answers Solomon, which is eminently good for a man; good while he lives, and the possession of which will render the day of his death even better than the day of his birth ; it is "a GOOD NAME." This will bless his life, and embalm his memory. — But respecting " a good name" several things are carefully to be observed. Jn the first place, it means more than merely bs'mg well spoken of. A man may be well spoken of, nay, may even acquire higii re- nown, who, judging on Scripture principles, ought ra- ther to be condemned ; the world very frequently, in their estimate of character, not only allowing a little ap- parent good to compensate for much real evil, but even *' calling good evil, and evil good, putting darkness for light, and light for darkness, bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter." Many, alas ! are the instances, in which *'that which is highly esteemed amongst men is abo- mination in the sight of God." A good name, in the Scriptural use of the phrase, is a reputation for what ig truly good; for piety, wisdom, integrity, benevolence, and other genuine excellences of character. — It is fur- ther to be noticed, that the reputation must be consi- dered as including the reality^ — the actual possession of the virtues that are the ground of praise. A reputa- tion, indeed, for qualities, which wc are conscious to ourselves we do not possess, so far from imparting any true satisdiction to the mind, must, on the contrary^ ECCLES. VII. 1 6. 253 occasion the most painful emotions of vexation, and shame, and self-reproach. Whilst there remains a spark of generous and honest feeling in the bosom, nothing can be more distressing than unmerited commendation. Rightly understood, then, — as signifying a reputation, founded in the real possession of what is truly good, good in the sight of God, — " a good name is better than precious ointment." Two qualities are expressed by the comparison. It is pleasant^ and it is valuable ; as the ointment is odoriferous^ and costly. — ^' Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart ; so (dolh) the sweetness of a man's friend by hearty counsel:" — " Because of the savour of thy good ointments, thy name (is as) oint- ment poured forth ; therefore do the virgins love thee :" — " Behold, how good and how pleasant (a thing 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 :"— ^^ Mary took a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair : and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment."* These passages show the ground for both the ideas which we conceive the comparison to express. But the sign falls far below the thing signified, both in its plea- santness and its preciousness. A good name is to its possessor a source of pure and exquisite enjoyrnent; gratifying in a high degree to his feelings, when it is not pronounced, by a secret con- sciousness, to be entirely unfounded. It is pleasant as the fragrance of rich perfume; sweet and refreshing, soothing and exhilarating to the soul. The sweetness of it should be estimated by the bitterness of its opposite. ♦ ProY. xxyii. 9, Cant. i. 3. Psal. cxxxiii. 1, 2. John s". 3. S54 LECTURE XI. But it is not merely, nor chiefly, as a source of plea- sure to a man's own mind, that a good name is to be prized :— it is of more substantial value, as an impor- tant qualification for usefulness. The power of any man to do good depends, in an eminent degree, on the re- putation he enjoys. His character multiplies his oppor- tunities, inspires confidence, gives weight to his coun- sels, and freedom and energy and effect to all his do- ings. To the man of inconsistency, it will be said with sconi, ''Physician, heal thyself;" but he whose repu- tation is established for uniform integrity, possesses a winning and commanding influence, which he may turn to most profitable account, in the cause of truth, bene- volence, and piety. It is our duty, therefore, to desire " a good name," not merely on its own account, or for the satisfaction it affords to ourselves, but for the sake of its utility in enabling us the more effectually to pro- mote the glory of God and the good of men. It gives us, to use the language of mechanics, a rest, and a pur- chase, in advancing every good work, which nothing else whatever can furnish. — For this reason, they are decidedly, and very far, in the wrong, who despise, or rather, perhaps, who affect to despise, " a good name," and to pour contempt on the opinion of the world, and disregard, as unworthy of their notice, whatever men may say of them. It is true that our first and highest concern should be, to "commend ourselves unto God ;" and, compared with this, it should be " a light thing" with us " to be judged of man's judgment." It is also true, that we should employ no means of ob- taining a character amongst men, but the direct and honourable means of a steady and consistent deport- ment ; the cultivation and the display (not the ostenta- tious, but the unobtrusive and unavoidable display) of ECCLES. VII. 1 — 6. 255 real goodness, — goodness that follows its every- day course of well-doing, " Holds the noiseless tenor of its way." neither courting observation nor shrinking from it ; not varnishing itself with a false lustre, but appearing in all its native simplicity and loveliness ; not shadow, but substance ; not tinsel, but bullion. Whilst all this is readily conceded ; still we maintain, that to be totally unconcerned whether we be slandered or approved, v/hether "our good be well or evil spoken of," is as immoral as it is unnatural. The same apostle who counted it *' a light thing to be judged of man's judg- ment," and kept in mind that " he that judged him was the Lord," was, at the same time, earnestly solicitous, and took measures of prudent precaution accordingly, to " provide for honest things, not only in the sight of the Lord, but also in the sight of men ;" he denied himself, and declined the benefit of his just rights, that he " might cut off occasion from them that desired oc- casion" to reproach and calumniate him ; and this, for the very reason we have been assigning, a regard to his official usefulness ; " lest he should hinder the gos- pel of Christ." The same principle is involved also in the precept, " Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Fa- ther who is in heaven." " And the day of death (is better) than the day of one's birth." — This seems a strange saying. The birth of a child is a season of gladness, gratulation, and fes- tivity. The death of the same child, when it has ad- vanced to manhood or to age, is the occasion of sorrow and bitter lamentation. It comes into the world amidst rejoicings, and leaves it amidst tears. Yet it is here fl5Q LECTURE XI. affirmed that " the day of death is rbetter than the day of one's birth."_the affirmation may be understood in different ways : — It may be interpreted generally^ in connection witli the view given of the vanity and vexation of the life of man. It may be the sentiment of chapter iv. 1—3. generalized; applied to human life on the whole^ in- stead of being confined to one particular department of observation : as if he had said, Seeing " all is vanity and vexation of spirit,"— seeing there are so many springs of bitter water in this valley of tears, of which all who pass through it must drink, the man whose journey has tetminated is more enviable than he who has it yet to begin ; to the former all its evils having ended in the grave,— the land of deep forgetfulness, where " the weary are at rest." The truth of the sen- timent, in this general view of it, is proportioned to the measure of suffering endured by the person's self, or, to the increase of his own unhappiness, witnessed by him in others. But if we adopt this principle of explanation, it is evident, we must stop short at the grave. We must con- template man simply as passing through this world, and the grave as the close of his journey, — the boundary of his course. Now, we can hardly for a moment suppose that Solomon meant we should look no further ; that we should consider man merely as the creature of a 'day,— his life limited by the litde span of " threescore years and ten," cut off from all connection with a life to come. Yet if we do look beyond the grave, we must necessarily introduce into the sentiment before us cer- tain limitations and distinctions. It certainly is not true respectii^g all who die, that the day of their death is better than the day of their birth. To many it is fear- ECCLES. VII. i' — 6. 257 fully the reverse. And perhaps, as I before noticed, the distinction is hinted by the connection of the say- ing with that which precedes ; the superiority of death to birth being affirmed only of the man who possesses *' a good name," in the sense we have affixed to the phrase. We rejoice when a man is born into the world. The joy is natural ; nor is there any impropriety in it. — But let me suppose for a moment, that we were let into the secret of the little stranger's future history ; and sup- pose he were exhibited by the Oracle, tormented by incessant disease, crossed and fretted by perpetual dis- apppointments and vexations ; every blossom and pro- mise of personal and social joy invariably and entirely blasted ; a man of sorrows, and familiar with griefs :— how completely then would our feelings of gladness be changed to those of heaviness and anguish ! This would be the case, even viewing things with reference to the present life alone : and too often is the birth of a child, with inconsiderate and vacant listlessness, thought of in no other light. But what is the event in reality ? It is the entrance of an immortal creature on an intermix nablc existence. Yes;— that little feeble babe, that hangs in dependent helplessness upon the breast, is a child of immortality. When you have numbered the sands of the ocean, you will not have numbered the years of its existence. There resides in that tender little frame, a spiritual substance, a soul, which death cannot touch, possessing powers capable of indefinite, and eternal ex- pansion, and susceptibilities of everlasting enjoyment or of unending wo ; — a spirit, that " smiles at the drawn dagger, and defies its point ;" that shall " triumph in immortal youth ;" that is destined to live, as long as God himself. — Suppose, then, we could get still farther Kk 25$ LECTURE XI. into the future history of the babe that has just made its entrance into our world, and is passing through it to another :— suppose we could find access to the book of Heaven's decrees, and could ascertain its eternal destiny ; and were infallibly assured, that after a life of unintermitted suffering here, it was to sink into an eternity of wo : — Oh ! should we not then weep over him tears of blood ? should we not wring our hands, in speechless agony, over his little cradle, and be ready to "open our mouth and to curse his d-^y ?"— Surely it could not then be true, that tlie clay of death would be better than ihe day of birth. No ; for there can be no suffering here comparable to the misery of hell. The sentiment we should then utter, would be, — " Good were it for that child, if it had never been born !" The saying before us then must be confined to the wise and the good ; to the children of God ; those who have believed his word, and walked in his ways, and have had " a good name" in " the Lamb's book of life." Of them it is emphatically true ; true, in all its extent of meaning ; true, not only when this life has been a life of unusual suffering— when they go to heaven '* out of great tribulation ;" but true, even taking life in its " best estate," freest of evil and fullest of good. This is the language alike of the Old and of the New Testa- ment records. To such, death is a salvation ; a salva- tion from sin and from all the evil of which sin is the cause. The day of birth is the day of entrance on a sinful, and therefore on a suffering world : the day of death is the day of entrance on a sinless, and therefore a perfectly happy world. " To die is" thus " gain." ^^ Blessed are the dtad who die in the Lord." " They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat : for the Lamb ECCLES. VII. 1 — 6. 259 which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters ; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." — The passage through Jordan into the land flowing with milk and honey, was better to the Israelites, than the passage through the Red Sea into the difficulties and dangers and distresses of " the waste howling wilderness." Our journey through this world is toward that which is eternal. How long it is to be, or how short, we arc iill equally ignorant. But the prime concern is, with re- gard to each of us, that, however short or however long, it may end well. Consequences unutterably important, interests of eternal moment, depend on its termination. Yet, alas! such is the natural earthliness of our minds, —such the fascinating and seductive influence of " the things that are seen," that although we know and ac- knowledge them to be but temporal, they are for ever excluding from our thoughts and desires the " things that are unseen," though they are eternal. Alas ! for the wisdom of human nature; — alas! for the boasted prudence of rational and calculating man, that it should be so ! But that it is so, we cannot cast even a hasty glance upon the world, — we cannot turn our eye inward for a moment to the secrets of our own hearts, without the sad conviction forcing itself upon our minds. The man must have renounced all pretensions to soundness of intellect and rectitude of feeling, who will not admit the importance of immortal creatures considering with seriousness the prospects that are before them ; laying to heart the things that belong to their everlasting peace, and not sacrificing eternity to time, excellent and evcr- during joys for the paltry vanities of the world, and " the pleasures of sin which are but for a season." But if this be granted, — if such consideration be the wisdom S60 LECTURE XI. of such creatures ; then, whatever has any tendency to correct the deceptions of time, and to keep men in mind of eternity, to counteract the power of sensible objects, and to give predominant influence to those that are spiritual, — must be infinitely " better," — more condu- cive to the true interests of mankind, — than what has a contrary tendency ; — a tendency to aid the natural de- pravity and worldliness of the heart, in blinding, allur- ing, and bewitching men, to their endless ruin. It is on this principle, that the maxims contained in the following verses are founded : i Verses 2-- — 4. " (It is) better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting : for that (is) the end of all men ; and the living will lay (it) to his heart. Sorrow (is) better than laughter : for by the sad- ness of the countenance, the heart is made better. The heart of the wise (is) in the house of mourning : but the heart of fools (is) in the house of mirth." " It is better to go to the house of mourning," — the house where Death has paid his gloomy visit, and has spread his pall over the light of domestic joy, — "^ than to go to the house of feasting," where all is gaiety and merriment, and animal indulgence.— The reason of the preference is assigned : — " for that," namely death, and the mourning attending it, " is the end of all men 5 and the living will lay it to his heart." The general tenden- cies of the two contrasted scenes are thus expressed. It is not to be inferred that in every case it is wrong to go to a " house of feasting."— Our blessed Master, though " holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners," graced a marriage- feast with his presence, and supplied, by miracle, the means, not of inebriation, (in- finitely far from our minds be such a thought!) but of innopent convivial cheerfulness :— and the apostle Paul; ECCLES. ▼!!. 1 6. 261 when he makes the supposition of Christians being *' bidden to a feast" by " any of them that believe not," lays them under no prohibition of compliance, should they be " disposed to go," but only cautions them as to some parts of their conduct while there.* There are joyous seasons, and occurrences in life, when we may, without impropriety, unbend ourselves in social festive enjoyment : always taking heed, that we keep within the limits of Christian temperance ; and never forgetting the Divine Author of all our blessings, and our obliga- tions to use them to his glory. But still, the house of feasting has peculiar temptations. Its general tendency, proved alas ! by much mournful experience, is to pro- duce forgetfulness of God and of spiritual things, to fill the mind with worldly vanities, to dissipate serious im- pressions, and thus, instead of counteracting, to aid the deceptions of time and sense. *' The harp and the viol, the tabret and pipe, and wine, are in their feasts : but they regard not the work of the Lord, neither consider the operation of his hands." *' They lie upon beds of ivory, and stretch themselves upon their couches, and eat the lambs out of the flock, and the calves out of the midst of the stall. They chant to the sound of the viol, (and) invent to themselves instruments of music like David : they drink wine in bowls, and anoint them- selves with the chief ointments : but they are not grieved for the afflictions of Joseph." *' Job's sons went and feasted (in their houses, every one his day ; and sent and called for their three sisters, to eat and to drink with them. And it was so, when the days of (their) feasting were gone about, that Job sent and sanctified them, and rose up early in the morning, and offered burnt-offer- ings (according) to the number of them all, for Job said, * John ii. 1, &c, 1 Cor. x. 27. ^6^ LECf ©RE XI. It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in'their hearts. Thus did Job continually."* In the "house of mourning, on the contrary, lessons the most salutary, in regard to the best interests of men, are presented, with awakening energy, to the mind ; lessons which, alas ! we are all of us too prone to for- get, and of which the very frequency of repetition is ever apt to diminish the vividness of the impression. We are there reminded of " the end of all men," and reminded, consequently, of our own. The tendency of such scenes is to lead ^' the living to lay this to heart;" to induce to serious reflection on the past, and anticipa- tion of the future ; to bring iiome to the secret medi- tations of each man's bosom the prospect that awaits himself; and to press upon his consideration the all-im- portant question, how he may meet the closing scene in peace and hope. And is it not a desirable thing, that the living should consider their latter end ?— that they should think, with seriousness, of the events that are before them ;--of death, and judgment, and eternity? — No, says the man of this world. Such thoughts and anticipations are in- consistent with present enjo3^ment, which is every man's present concern : they produce dejection and gloom ; they drive men mad. Why torment ourselves before the time ? Why torture the present moment by antici- pating moments that are far away ? — " begone, dull care !" Let us catch the pleasures of the passing hour. Let us pluck the rose before it withers. Let us not, like fools, conjure up the phantoms of to-morrow, to scare away the joys of to-day. Let us not throw over our present sun- shine the shadows of a future darkness. —Ah ! vain man ! and will this thoughtlessness prevent * Isa. V. 12. Amos vi. 3—6. Job. i. 4, 5. ECCLES. YII. 1 — 6. 263 the approaches of Death, or keep thy latter end at a dis- tance ? Will it arrest the flight of that " numbered hour" that shall lay thee with the dead, and summon thy part- ing spirit to the judgment-seat of God ? Will Death spare you, because you laugh him to scorn ; or the evil hour linger, because you do not prepare for its coming ? O remember, that which is far off in your imagination, may be very near at hand in reality. Whilst the rich man, in the parable, was saying to his soul, " Thou hast much goods laid up for many years ; take thine ease; eat, drink, (and) be merry: God said to him, (Thou) fool ! this night thy soul shall be required of thee : then whose shall those things be which thou hast provided?" The language of Solomon, in this passage, implies his knowledge and firm conviction of a future state of happiness and misery. For, if death were " the end of all men," as to their existence, it would be difiicult to establish the wisdom of his maxims. " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die," might then be pleaded for as the most rational principle of human conduct ; and the libertine might maintain a successful argument with the moralist and the divine. But, taking the case as it really stands, nothing can be conceived of greater consequence than to persuade men to "lay to heart" their state and their prospects, and to provide for the happi- ness of a never-ending existence. If this object is gained by affliction, affliction is the greatest blessing of a man's life, the kindest appointment of a beneficent providence. If the " heaviness" that springs from trouble issues in " the joy of God's salvation ;" if the darkness of sorrow introduces into the soul the light of spiritual and ever- lasting gladness ; what cause has the patient to say, "It was good for me that I was afflicted !" 264 LECTURE Xf. ** Sorrow is better than laughter." Is this the senti- ment of a morose and cynical misanthrope, — or of an infatuated and gloomy-minded devotee ? — Certainly ad- versity is not in itself preferable to prosperity. Solo- mon does not say it is. But adversity has many a time produced effects more truly and permanently beneficial than prosperity. There is a mighty difference between the Divine and the human estimate of things. If a man's spiritual advantage is promoted by suffering, he is, in God's account, a great gainer ; and if his pros- perity either prevents him from thinking of higher blessings, or entices away those affections that had been fixed upon them, he is an unspeakable loser. — The words of Solomon express the result of experience, and are dictated, not by cynical moroseness, but by genuine enlightened benevolence; benevolence, that is chiefly- concerned about the highest interests of men. The reason of the preference given of sorrow to laughter, is, that " by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better." And the reason is just and weighty. The im- provement of the character in its inward principles, the establishment and promotion of true religion in the soul, of the highest and purest affections of which the heart is susceptible, is an end incomparably more excellent than the acquisition of any temporal benefit, and cheaply purchased by the loss of it. And such is the spiritual tendency of sorrow, springing from affliction, opposed to that of thoughtless inconsiderate mirth. The troubles of life are here supposed to produce sadness. They are not in themselves "joyous, but grievous." " We are in heaviness through manifold trials." But the sadness conduces to spiritual profit ; and this is the ground of the preference. When the Nile overflowed the adjacent lands in Egypt, all around would wear the aspect of ECCLES. VII. 1 — 6. 265 desolation and dreariness : but when the flood subsided, it left fertility and wealth behind it, and supplied food and life to millions. So is it when the floods of tribula- tion rest for a time on the heart ; they serve to melio- rate the soil, to sofien and enrich it, and prepare for a more abundant produce of the fruits of righteousness: This is the gracious design of God, their heavenly Fa- ther, in all the afflictions allotted by him to his children. " We haee had fathers of our flesh who corrected (us,) and we gave (them) reverence : shall we not much rather be in subjection to the Father of spirits, and live ? For they verily for a few days chastened (us,) after their pleasure ; but he for (our) profit, that (we) may be par- takers of his holiness. Now, no affliction for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous : nevertheless after- ward, it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness, unto them who are exercised thereby."*— The hum- bling and otherwise salutary eflfect of such correction is finely expressed by the prophet Jeremiah : " I have surely heard Ephraim bemoaning himself (thus ;) Thou hast chastised me, and I was chastised, as a bullock unaccustomed (to the yoke ;) turn thou me, and I shall be turned, for thou (art) the Lord my God. Surely after that I was turned, 1 repented ; and after that I was in- structed, I smote upon (my) thigh : 1 was ashamed, yea, even confounded, because I did bear the reproach of my youth. (Is) Ephraim my dear son? (Is he) a plea- sant child ? For since I spake against bim I do earnestly remember him still ; therefore my bowels are troubled for him ; I w^ill surely have mercy upon him, saith the Lord.'^t — '* Before I was afflicted," says David, " I went astray ; but now have I kept thy word." " (It was) good for me that I was afflicted ; that I might * Heb. x'l'i. 9—11. t Jer. xxxi. 18—20. LI S66 LECTURE XI. learn thy statutes."*— And whilst such has been the experience of God's children, as to the influence of sanctified afflictions in cherishing in their souls the prin- ciples of vital godliness ; those that were far from God and far from righteousness have been not seldom in- debted to them, as the means of their first excitement 10 religious concern, and of their turning from the error of their way. Even the hardened Man,asseh, branded with impiety and oppression, and stained with innocent blood, with whom warning and expostulation had been Tain, — " when he was in affliction besought the Lord his God, and humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers, and prayed unto him ; and he was en- treated of him, and heard his supplication, and brought him again to Jerusalem, into his kingdom. Then Ma- nasseh knew, that the Lord he (was) God."t The " laughter" of which Solomon speaks, is the laughter of the fool ; that thoughtless mirth, which ex- cludes reflection, dissipates the mind, unfits it for every thing serious, and leaves the heart worse instead of better. On these accounts (verse 4.) " the heart of the wise (is) in the house of mourning ; but the heart of fools (is) in the house of mirth." " The wise" may be understood either of the man who is under the predominant influence of that " fear of the Lord, which is wisdom," or of the man who con- sults his own best interests, pursuing the best ends by the best means. • These, indeed, are properly descrip- tions of but one character. The best and highest ends are, without all question and beyond all comparison, those which relate to our connections with God, and to our eternal existence. He is truly " wise for hjm- self," who " looks not at things seen, which are tern- ♦ Psa). czix. 67, 71, \ 2 Chron.sxxiii. 12,. 13 ECCLES. VII. 1 — 6. g67 poral, but at things unseen which are eternal." And this right estimate of the things of time and of eternity will ever be found in union with the fear of God. The ever- lasting welfare of the whole man, for which God has graciously made provision by the gospel, is the highest good on which the heart can fix its desires. — We need not be surprised that " the heart of the fool should be in the house of mirth." The fool's object is present pleasures ; and of pleasure he has formed a miserably false conception. His grand inquiry is, how he may most efiectually banish all care from his mind ; how he may drive away every thing gloomy, by which he means especially every thing serious, and pass his time most lightly and pleasantly ; that is, with the least possible intrusion of reflection, or of anticipation. For these ends, he makes choice of the ^' house of mirth" and ^' feast- ing." He would be always in it, drinking down care, and laughing at melancholy. The longer he pursues his career of thoughtlessness, thoughtlessness becomes the more necessary to his peace. Incessant mirth be- comes the more indispensable, as its intervals become the more irksome. His heart is in the house of mirth. The house of mourning he never frequents from choice ; never sets his foot on its threshold but from unavoida- ble necessity, — The " wise man," on the contrary, is considerate. He "looks before and after." He reflects on the past, he contemplates the present, he an- ticipates the future. He is a man of thought. Feeling himself sinful, and knowing himself accountable and immortal, his state before God, and his prospects for eternity, are the chief subjects of his concern. Profit- ing by the experience of others, and by his own,— con- vinced from both, that *^ (it is) better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting : that 268 LECTURE XI. sorrow (Is) better than laughter, for that by the saclncsj3 of the countenance the heart is made better ;" *' his heart is in the house of mourning." lie goes thither ^''' not by constraint, but willingly." It is his choice : not so much, indeed, that he may learn any thing new, as that he may have truths more deeply impressed upon his mind, which it is of the last importance for him to remember and habitually to feel, but which, he is deeply sensible, he is continually prone to let slip. — The wise man and the fool may thus be distinguished by their respective likings. The former would prefer going to the " house of mourning" to read anew a les- son of serious and salutary wisdom, to spending hours of thoughtless levity and laughter in the house of mirth. There cannot be a more decisive evidence of folly, than when nothing gives any pleasure but merriment and frivolity. He, who cannot converse with eternity ; he, who cannot look forward to death and judgment, with- out feeling an interruption of his pleasure, without a cold misgiving of heart and a fretful impatience to get rid of the unwelcome and intrusive thoughts, is in a state of mind far from such as any truly wise man can desire for himself, or any truly benevolent man can, without emotions of the deepest concern, contemplate in others. " (It is) better to hear the rebuke of the wise, than for a man to hear the song of fools." — The " song of fools" is one of the modes of expressing that "mirth" which had just been mentioned in the fourth verse, as characterizing the " house" which fools love to fre- quent. It is the jovial utterance of either the profligate sensuality, or the unreflecting and empty levity, of the fool's mind. To '' hear the song of fools" is to court their company and participate in their irrational pica- ECCLES. YII. 1 6. 269 sures; of which the tendency is to assimilate the cha- racter to theirs ; to banish thought, and to inspire a relish for dissipation and insensate merriment and riot. ■—With this is contrasted the advantage of " hearing the rebuke of the wise." Rebuke is of all things the most unpalatable in itself. But many things are salutary that are bitter, and many things sweet that are destruc- tive. Let the youth who feels the inclination to fre- quent the " house of mirth" and to " hear the song of fools," listen to the ^^ rebuke of the wise," who, in pity to his soul, dissuades, expostulates, and reproves. The indulgence of his propensity may be more agreeable at the time ; but the end will be poignant and unavailing regret that the " rebuke" was disregarded. Be assured, it is infinitely better to choose and to frequent the coir.- pany of those who will deal faithfully with your faults, . and rebuke and correct your errors even with a salu- tary severity, than to associate with such as will regale you with the poisoned sweets of flattery, applaud you in your follies, extol your spirit, encourage you in your schemes of frolic or of mischief,, laugh at your jests. clap your toasts, and join the chorus of your jovial songs. — " He that regardeth reproof shall be honour- ed." " He that refuseth instruction despiseth his own soul : but he that heareth reproof getteth understand- ing." " He that walketh with wise (men) shall be wise: but a companion of fools shall be destroyed." " Let the righteous smite me ; (it shall be) a kindness ; and let him reprove me ; (it shall be) an excellent oil, (that) shall not break my head : for yet my prayer also (shall be) in their calamities.*'* Whilst from the company and counsels of the wise, and the lessons of the house of mourning, there accrues ♦ Prov. xiii. 18. xv. 32. xiii. 20. Psal. cxJi. 5. 370 LECTURE XI. the most valuable and lasting benefit, — happiness, ster- ling in its nature and eternal in its duration ; — on the contrary, (verse 6.) " As the crackling of thorns under a pot, so (is) the laughter of the fool. This also is vani- ty."— Could any similitude be more strikingly descrip- tive ? — The blaze of dry thorns is sudden, noisy, and cheerful. But, enlivening as it is while it lasts, it is as transient as it is sprightly. It subsides as quickly as it rises. The bickering flame is soon extinguished, hav- ing only served to make the gloom the deeper ; and nothing is left behind but unsightly and unprofitable ashes. Kindled " under a pot," it wants that steady in- tensity of heat, that is necessary to any powerful or permanent effect upon its contents ; so that even while it lasts it does little service. — " So is the laughter of the fool." It is mirthful and boisterous, and for the time looks like happiness. But, like the blaze of dried thorns, it is soon over ; and it leaves no profit. It has answered, and even that in appearance only, the care- killing end of the moment : but the subsequent dulness and e7i7iui are only the deeper. " The end of that mirth is heaviness." And when the days of such laughter shall be exhausted, then will come the sad fulfilment of the Saviour's words, *' Wo unto you that laugh now ! for ye shall mourn and weep." Well then may we adopt, respecting such laughter, the verdict formerly pronounced upon it, " 1 said of laughter, (It is) mad ; and of mirth, What doeth it?" From this passage, observe, in the first place, that the benefit derived from visits to *' the house of mourn- ing," should not be merely our own. We ought to fre- quent it not only that we ourselves may learn the spiri- tual lessons which are taught us by its scenes of wo ; but that we may impart consolation, and support, and / ECCLES. yii. 1 — 6. 27 i profit, to its sorrowing inmates ; that we may wipe the tear from the eye of grief; pour the oil of soothing sympathy into the wounded spirit ; bind up the broken heart; draw the souls of the mourners to God; im- pressing on their minds the Divine intention in every trial ; spiritualizing their meditations and desires ; and rendering the feelings of nature subservient to the pur- poses of grace — Our owii distresses, and our own con- solations, are intended by the God that afflicts and com- forts us, to fit us for such visits of mercy ;— to qualify us for the house of mourning;— to make us expe- rienced comforters. " Blessed be God," says the suf- fering apostle of the Gentiles, — ^' Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort ; who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to com- fort them who are in any trouble, by the conjfort where- with we ourselves are comforted of God !"— Thus, by the religion of the blessed Jesus, selfishness is excluded from every thing. Our very trials are not sent, nor our consolations under them administered, for ourselves alone. To ourselves, indeed, they are precious and life-giving ; but on ourselves, whether we be ministers or private Christians, the design of them does not ter- minate. The example of our Divine Master is an ex- ample of benevolence and love : " Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others: let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus."* And even he is represented as having learned sympathy, and skill in the administration of comfort, by his experience of suffering. " We have not a High Priest who cannot be touched with the feel- ing of our infirmities, but who was in all points tried * rhil. ii. 4. 5. 272 LECTURE XI. like as (we are, yet) without sin :"—" for in that lie himself hath suffered, being tried, he is able to succour them that are tried :"--" though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience"— the difficulties and trials attend- ing it,—" by the things which he suffered."* Thus his sufferings were, in every way, turned to account, for the benefit of his people. In the second place. Remember, the time is fast ap- proaching, when the dwelling-place of every one of us, shall, in reference to ourselves^ become the *' house of mourning." This is "appointed unto all." Neither riches, nor power, nor learning, nor love, nor friend- ship, can possibly avert it. Death's impartial visits are paid alike at the palace and the cottage. Remember, then, the solemn time is coming, when, either suddenly, or by the gradual ravages of disease, we, like others, must *' go the way, whence we shall not return." The time is coming, when we shall be laid on our sick- bed ; when the messages of anxious friends shall be brought in whispers to our door ; when the parting sigh shall pass our lips ; when we shall be stretched in our shroud, cold and insensible ; when agonized relatives shall steal in silence to our apartment, and, with gentle step and timid hand, as if afraid of disturbing our slumbers, lift the covering from our face, to gaze, in pensive anguish, on our altered features, and to drop the last warm tear on our feelingless cheek ; when the company of mourners shall assemble, to convey our mortal remains to their long home ; and when, '' the earth having returned to the dust as it was, and the spirit to God who gave it," " the place that now knows us, shall know us no more :"— when all those affecting lessons, which we have so often learned from the death * Heb. iv. 15. ii. 18. v. 8. • ECCLES. yii. 1 — 6. sya of others, shall be learned by others from ours. — O the blessedness of having good hope, in that infinitely mo- mentous crisis, when we must part from all below, and part for ever ! — that survivors, whilst they mourn our departure, may say over our grave, with well-founded assurance, <^ Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord!" Lastly. From such passages as this, the author of this book has sometimes been condemned and scouted, as a gloomy and morose moralist, a cynical philosopher, contemplating human life through the distorted me- dium of a disappointed and embittered spirit, disposed to aggravate all its evils, to depreciate all its enjoy- ments, to frown on its harmless pleasures, — and deter- mined to be pleased with nothing. Let us consider this view of his character. 1. Those who bring the charge should know that a difficulty has at times been felt by some, to vindicate him from the very opposite imputation. His language, in some parts of the book, is such, that they have been surprised and startled by it, and have felt it less easy of reconciliation than any other parts of the Bible with the lessons of Christian soberness and spirituality of mind ; and they have been at a loss what answer to make, when it has been quoted by the laughing sceptic as a sanction for enlarged indulgence in the gratification of a present world. Now, should not this lead both to sus- pect that they are alike misapprehending his meaning, and that, as he cannot be justly chargeable with both extremes, he is, in fact, chargeable with neither ? 2. A great part of what dissatisfied and harassed the mind of Solomon, was, not the evils suffered by him- self, but those which he saw or knew to be endured by others. We have had a specimen of this in the hr^ M m ^7^ LECTURE Xr. ginning of the fourth chapter: — ^' So I returned, and considered all the oppressions that are done under the sun : and behold the tears of (such as were) oppressed, and they had no comforter ; and on the side of their oppressors (there was) power : but they had no com- forter. Wherefore I praised the dead that are already dead, more than the living that are yet alive. Yea, bet- ter (is he,) than both they, who hath not yet been, who hath not seen the evil work that is done under the sun." — Are not these praise- worthy feelings? Is there no credit due for the benevolence, which was thus made unhappy by the woes of others ? Shall we condemn, as a gloomy and cynical misanthrope, the Christian poet, the delicate and tender-hearted Cowper, when, over- whelmed by the contemplation of human guilt and hu- man suffering, his benevolent spirit bursts forth in the utterance of indignant grief :-- " O for a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit. Of unsuccessful or successful war, xMight never reach me more ! My ear is pain'd, INIy heart is sick, with every day's report Of wrong and outrage, with which earth is fiU'd." 3. When he does express dissatisfaction with life, as to his own personal enjoyment of it, it is not on account Qithe evils that had befallen him. The feelings which he expresses are not those of a man fretted and alienated from the world by the injuries done to him, and long- ing to be away from the society and the sight of beings whom he hates and contemns. Neither are they the feelings of impiety, irritated by the unpropitious deal- ings of Providence, charging God foolishly, and think- ing he " does well to be angry even unto death," open- ing his mouth in blasphemy against the Author of his ECCLES. VII. 1 — 6. S75 existence and the ordainer of his lot. — The complaints he utters are not complaints of evil suffered, but of the unsatisfactory nature of good enjoyed. Of this he pos- sessed a rich and enviable abundance and variety; as much as could well fall to the lot of man. Be it so — you are ready to say, — and does this mend the matter? Why, it is worse than the other. We can find some grounds of apology, for his repinings who has been the victim of incessant disappointment, vexation, and ca- lamity. But here was nothing of the kind. What ailed the man ? to be dissatisfied and full of complaints, when there was nothing in his condition but good ! What thankless ingratitude ! what unreasonable, capricious, intolerable discontent !— No, my friends. His feelings were not thus destitute of reason and piety. The cause of the dissatisfaction expressed it is no difficult matter to assign. The good in question was all pursued, ob- tained, possessed, and enjoyed, apart from God. It was then,—'m " the days of his vanity," it failed to yield any solid enjoyment : and when he came to himself, he felt the cause of the failure, and recorded the salutary lesson. And O that the lesson, the dictate of his dear- bought experience, were written in every heart ! — "gra- ven as with an iron pen and lead in the rock forever!" — that ALL HAS BEEN, IS, AND MUST BE, UNPRO- DUCTIVE OF HAPPINESS, WITHOUT GoD J " VANITY OF VANITIES, ALL IS VANITY." But Solomon did not do the world justice. It was not a fair experiment. A chemist, when he wishes to ascertain the virtues of any substance, takes care to separate from it, as thoroughly as he can, all extraneous ingredients ; that he may have it unmixed, and thus obtain a correct result. When, in like manner, our ob- ject is to ascertain the capacity of any thing to impart 27& LECTURE XI. pleasure, ought we not, on the same principle, to divest ourselves of whatever has any tendency to interfere with or to mar the enjoyment it seems fitted to afford ? — Solomon perhaps tried to do this. But he could not. He had too much remaining of the religious impres- sions of his earlier days, for making the experiment with fairness. He knew God too well,— the God of his fa- ther; from whom he had received the solemn paternal charge, which he never could obliterate from his re- membrance, "And thou, Solomon my son, know thou the God of thy father, and serve him \\ith a perfect heart and with a willing mind ; for the Lord searcheth all hearts, and understandeth all the imaginations of the thoughts : if thou seek him, he will be found of thee ; but if thou forsake him, he will cast thee off for ever!" — In obedience to the charge of this pious father, he had begun his career in the fear of the Lord. He had there- fore too many recollections, and too many anticipations, to allow of his being happy in the pursuit of the vani- ties of the world, and the pleasures of sin. These, in spite of him, must have intruded at times even on his maddest social hours ; and must have armed every mo- ment of solitude and reflection with a tormenting sting. No yesterday, during that period, would look back upon him with a smile.— And Solomon's case is, in this respect, far from being a solitary one. Persons who have been "brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord," but have cast off the fear of God and the pro- fession of religion, can seldom get entirely rid of these early convictions and impressions. They are continually haunting them. Such persons are often distinguished by the lengths to which they go in vicious indulgence. The reason is, that they are making an effort to get above their prejudices and silly fears. They are solici- ECCLES. VII. 1 — 6. 277 tous to conceal them, and determined to show their companions in sin their superiority to them. But such persons, I repeat, do not do justice to the world. Oh ! it is a fearful experiment, to be fairly made. That the world may yield its pleasures pure and unadulterated, — I mean such pleasures as it affords to its votaries, who follow it as their chief good, to the exclusion of spiri- tual joys, — the mind must be stript of all the vestiges of early religious instruction, of all sense of God, of all anticipation of judgment and eternity ; the voice of in- ward remonstrance must be entirely stifled, and the " conscience seared as with a hot iron." If a man can thoroughly accomplish this, he will then have the plea- sures of sin in their perfection. But, oh ! can a state be imagined more unutterably fearful ? Could a heavier curse be conceived to light upon a man, than the curse of success in the attempt to divest himself of every principle that would interfere with the unmingled en- joyment of forbidden pleasures ! Besides ; the very persons who cavil at Solomon for his calumnious representation, as they account it, of hu- man life, themselves contributed not a little to the em- bittering of his feelings, after he came to look back on his unhallowed experiment, and to record its results. The laughter of the fool, — the giddy joy of the vain, the thoughtless, the dissipated, and voluptuous, is one of the most affecting and distressing sights to a serious and spiritual mind: and such was that of the reclaimed and penitent King of Israel. Inconsiderate sinners may laugh at the pain they give to the godly. But the pain is the product of benevolence as well as of piety. The self-delusion, the present privation, and the anticipated wretchedness of sinners, are its source ; and their wel- fare in time and in eternity is the sincere and fervent 378 LECTURE XI. ECCLES. VII. 1 6. desire of all by whom it is felt. " I beheld the trans- gressors, and was grieved." — " Rivers of water run down mine eyes, because they keep not thy law." — O " be ye not mockers, lest your bands be made strong." *' Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world." *' The lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eye, and the pride of life," will all deceive you at last. They will leave you worse than destitute. If you give them the preference, and persist in living without God, the day of your death, however you may flatter yourselves, will not to you be better, but infinitely worse, than the day of your birth. Many a poor worldling will envy through eternity the child that was carried from the womb to the grave ; — will wish, with unavailing regret, that the day of his birth had also been the day of his death : and will load with bitter imprecations the hour that commenced an existence, to which he cannot put a termination, and which his own sin and folly have rendered irremediable miserable. — Dost thou believe, then, on the Son of God ? It is only to those who, when they quit this world, go to be with Christ, that " to die is gain,"— that " the day of death is better than the day of birth :" and none can be admitted where he is, but those who have believed, and loved, confessed, and honoured, and served him here. If you renounce the v/orld, and seek God in Christ as your portion, He will ' come unto you, and make his abode with you." He "uill be the light of your habitation when it becomes a *'■ house of mourning," and, when he takes you hence, it will be to his own house above, Avhere " the days of your mourning shall be ended !" LECTURE XII. EccLES. vii. 7 — 14<. 7 " Surely op/inssion muketh a wise man mad ; and a gifc destrotjeth 8 the heart. Better (is J the erid of a thing than the beginning thereof; 9 CandJ the fiaticnt inspirit (is) better than the proud in spirit. Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry ; for anger resteth in the boso7n of 10 fools. Say 7tot thou, What is (the cause J that the former days were better than these ? for thou dost not inquire wisely concerning this. 11 Wisdom fisj good with an inheritance ; and Cby it there is J profit 12 to them that see the sun. For wisdom (is J a defence, (and J money (is) a defence : but the excellency of knowledge (is, that J wisdom 13 giveth life to them that have it. Consider the work of God :for who 14 can make (that J straight which he hath made crooked ? In the day of proslierity be joyful, but in the day of adversity consider: God also hath set the one over against the other, to the end that man should find nothing after him." JLT is evident, that what is said, in the first of these verses, of the tendency of oppression to " make a wise man mad," may be understood either of the suffering or of the exercise of oppression.-— The former, it is need- less to prove, serves to fret, and harass, and exasperate the spirit ; so that there are not wanting instances, in which men, even eminent in reputation for wisdom, have, by its long continuance, by their being the con- stant victims of injustice, privation, insult, and violence, been worked up to a pitch of absolute phrenzy ; have given way, after long and difficult restraint, to the burst of ungovernable indignation, and have acted the part of madness, rather than of considerate sobriety.— Moses, describing the unrighteous oppression which, amongst other curses, should befal the Israelites under the Di- 280 LECTURE XII. vine visitation for their sins, concludes in these words : ~^" Thy sons and thy daughters (shall be) given unto another people, and thine eyes shall look and fail for them all the day long; and (there shall be) no might in thy hand. The fruit of thy land, and all thy labours, shall a nation which thou knowest not eat up ; and thou shalt be only oppressed and crushed alway : so that thou shah be mad for the sight of thine eyes which thou shalt see."* I am disposed, however, to understand the expres- sion in the passage before us, as relating to the oppres- sor^ rather than to the oppressed. The possession of power carries in it a strong temptation to its abuse ; a temptation before which even men who had borne a previous character for wisdom, have not seldom fallen. And when a man, even a wise man, exalted to power, once gives way before the tempting inducements to its corrupt employment, the very exercise of oppression tends to infatuate and bewilder him. It blinds his judg- ment, it perverts his principles, it hardens his heart, it changes his character. A contention arises in his bosom between the love of power, with the profit of its abuse, on the one hand, and the remonstrances and upbraid- ing of conscience, on the other. The reluctance too, so mighty in human nature, to own an error, produces a passionate impatience of reproof and counsel, which is proportionally the more vehement, as he is inwardly sensible he is wrong. This state of mind drives him forward to measures of new violence ; the very opposi- tion of conscience, reacting, as an irritating stimulus, in the contrary direction, the anger at its torturing re- monstrances producing a desperate effort to silence and to banish them ; as when a man, to show his indignant * Deut. xxviii. 32—34. ECCLES. yii. 7—14. 281 scorn of rebuke, repeats his fault more offensively than before. One step leads on to another ; till his conduct, losing all the characteristics of wisdom, becomes like that of a man bereft of reason, and swayed by the de- rangement of passion. One of the reasons for preferring this interpretation of the former part of the verse, is its affording so clear a connection with the latter : — " and a gift destroyeth the heart." — " A gift" is a bribe to oppression. The tak- ing of gifts was prohibited by tht law of Moses, on ac- count of the same corrupting tendency that is here ascribed to them. The man, indeed, who consents to receive a gift, known to be bestowed wath such an in- tention, is already corrupted. " Judges and officers shalt thou make thee in all thy gates, which the Lord thy God giveth thee, throughout thy tribes : and they shall judge the people with just judgment. Thou shalt not wrest judgment : thou shalt not respect persons, neither take a gift : for a gift doth blind the eyes of the wise, and pervert the words of the righteous. That which is altogether just shalt thou follow, that thou mayest live, and inherit the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee."* — " A gift destroyeth tke heart.'''' It operates as a temptation. It undermines the principles of impartial equity, and deadens the feelings of humanity and mercy. It perverts the moral sentiments, and leads to the wo denounced on the man who '^ calls evil good, and good evil, who puts darkness for light, and light for dark- ness." This view of the verse accords well with Solomon's leading design. It contains, on this interpretation, an additional reason why we should not " envy the oppres- sor." or covet very earnestly the possession of power, • Deut. xvi. 18—20. Nn 282 LECTURE XII. seeing it carries in it a temptation so dangerous, an in- flu'ence so perverting. Verse 8. " Better (is) the end of a thing than the beginning of it ; (and) the patient in spirit (is) better than the proud in spirit." — This verse appears to be intended for the oppressed ; although it expresses, at the same time, a general truth. The design of it is to rt- commQ\^d patience, as a remedy against the evils of op- pression, and against the calamities of life in general. Things are better judged of by their end than by their beginning. The morning often lowers, when the succeeding day is clear. And thus, in the arrangements of providence, events frequently appear very dark and unpromising, of which the final issue is beyond expec- tation good. On this account, we should beware of being "Misaty" in judgment, in feeling, or in action. Jacob said, " All these things are against me !" But, though appearances seemed to justify his despondency, all things were " working together for his good." " Ye have heard," too, ^^ of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord, that the Lord is very pitiful and offender mercy." He " turned the captivity" of his servant, and " blessed his latter end more than his beginning." And (to quote a case more immediately connected with the subject of the preceding verse,) when the children of Israel were oppressed with in- creasing rigour, by Pharaoh and his task-masters, when their work was required, by the lawless caprice of a despot, without materials being furnished for it, and they were beaten for not producing it ; when their plight was so deplorable and heart- sinking, that when Moses, in the name of Jehovah, spoke to them the words of Di- vine encouragement and promise, ^' they hearkened not unto him, for anguish of spirit, and for cruel bondage ;" ecci.es. VII. 7 — 14. 283 all seemed dark and desperate. But " better was the end than the beginning." Jehovah, at length, brought them out *' with a high hand and an outstretched arm." He "loosed the bands of wickedness, he undid the heavy burdens, he broke every yoke, and let the op- pressed go free."— The oppressor may, in " the begin- ning," appear to have the best of it ; but, in " the end," he will have reason to envy the victims of his tyranny. Not unfrequently, even in this world, the righteous God, in his overruling providence, makes the infatuated ambition, the blind obstinacy, and the relentless cruelty, of the oppressor, the means of his own ruin, and of the deliverance of the oppressed : — and, at any rate, if retri- butive justice should not visit him now, the most power- ful abuser of authority, the most independent and ruth- less trampler on the rights of his fellows, must give his own account at last to the " Judge of all." Let such considerations produce patience under wrongs. " The patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit."— Patience is here, for a very obvious reason, opposed to pride. Pride is one of the chief sources of impatience; of that hastiness of temper, which can brook no wrong, which kindles in an instant at every real or fancied injury, and clamours for immediate revenge. Humility, on the contrary, is the parent, not of insen- sibility, but of gentleness and meekness, the opposite of quick, and passionate, and resentful irritability ; of a patience that suffers in submission, and waits in hope; bearing even the evils that are inflicted by men, in the remembrance that men are but " God's hand,"* and resting in the tranquil expectation that *' the end will be better than the beginning ;" that the providence of God will njake "darkness light" before his injured children, and " crooked things straight." ♦ Psal. xvii. 14. 284 LECTURE XII. Patience is " better" than passionate and hasty *' pride," both as being more conducive to happiness, and as being more in harmony with the Divine will. The ^^ patient in spirit" has more comfort, tranquillity, and true enjoyment, in his own bosom, than the '* proud in spirit :"_his self-control enables him to be more use- ful, in supporting and counselling others around him, for which he would be incapacitated by the agitations of passion :— and he is, at the same time, prevented by it, from acting with that precipitate impetuosity, which, springing from pride, serves in general only to aggra- vate calamity, and to hasten ruin. — Besides, patience is the temper of mind which God approves, and pride that which he condemns : so that he who cherishes and displays the former, is intrinsically, in the estimate of the great Lawgiver, " better" than he who indulges the latter. The same sentiment is often expressed by Solo- mon, as one of much general importance, and of ex- tensive application. " Only by pride cometh conten- tion:"— " (He that is) slow to wrath (is) of great un- derstanding ; but (he that is) hasty of spirit exalteth folly :" — " A wrathful man stirreth up strife ; but (he that is) slow to anger appeaseth strife :" — "(He that is) slow to anger (is) better than the mighty ; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city."* In immediate connection with the sentiment thus expressed, is the admonition in the ninth verse : — " Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry ; for anger resteth in the bosom of fools. " I shall not, at present, enter into any disquisition re- specting the lawfulness of anger, or make any attempt to ascertain the precise limit at which it becomes cri- minal. Those, I am satisfied, have gone to an extreme, ♦ I'l-ov. xiii. 10. xiv, 29. sv, IS, xvl. 32. ECCLES. VII. 7 — 14. 285 who have contended that the passion is, in its own na- ture, sinful. Cases are not only supposeable, but of no unfrequent occurrence, in which its emotions may be fairly justified. Yet it is one of those passions for which a person feels afraid to plead ; because it requires, in- stead of encouragement and fostering, constant and care- ful restraint ; and the propensity in every bosom to its indulgence is ever ready to avail itself of an argument for its abstract lawfulness, to justify what all but the subject of it will condemn, as its causeless exercise, or its criminal excess. In both these respects there is hazard ; — of its springing up on improper occasions, and of its going beyond reasonable bounds. There are two views, suggested by this verse, in which every prudent man will be desirous to guard against anger ; its ready admission, and its long reten- tion.— " Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry ; for an- ger resteth in the bosom of fools." If we regard the glory of God, who is himself " long-suffering, and slow to anger," or our own personal and social happiness, which has so often been fearfully disturbed by the vio- lence and inveteracy of the passions, we will give dili- gent heed to this admonition. Great has been the dis- honour done to God, and incalculable the mischiefs pro- duced to men, by hasty and by long-cherished anger. It is in the bosom of "fools" that anger "resteth.'" To retain and foster it is a mark of a weak mind, as well as of an unsantified heart : and this is here assigned as a reason why we should not be hasty to admit it. We should be cautious of receiving into our bosoms what we are forbidden to harbour in tliem. If it be foolish to retain it, it must be foolish to give it ready entrance. David was *' hasty in his spirit to be angry" against Nabal ; and none will deny that his provocation 2^Q LECTURE XII. was strong : yet he saw reason afterwards to bless God for preventing the indulgence of his hasty passion, which, in the moment of sudden irritation, had threa- tened what could never have been justified.* " Be ye angry," says the apostle, '^ and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath. Neither give place to the devil, "t The connection of these words seems, without straining, to intimate, what experience abundantly con- firms, that the Tempter of mankind often avails himself, in a special manner, of this passion, to drive its subjects to the commission of sin. — " Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath : for the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God. "J One great source of unhappiness in the world, a co- pious and perennial spring of bitter waters, is discon- tent,—dissatisfaction with the situation, as to time, place, and circumstances, in which Divine providence has placed us. — It is, I think, against such a temper of mind that the warning is pointed in verse 10th. — " Say not thou. What is (the cause) that the former days were better than these ? for thou dost not inquire wisely con- cerning this." It is obvious, that the complaint here supposed may be understood in two senses. It may relate to character, or to condition ; to comparative degrees of impiety and ■wickedness, or to comparative degrees of calamity and suffering. It is in the latter sense that I understand it here : yet you will excuse a remark or two on the for- mer. The complaint, in what may be termed the 7720^^;/ view of it, has been common, 1 suppose, in every age, since the beginning of the world, had it all along been true, it is impossible to conceive, bad as the world is, * See 1 Sara. xxv. f Eph, iv. 26, 27. * James i. 19. 20. ECCLES. VII. 7 — 14. 287 how much worse it must have been. But the degene- racy of the times i as it is never out of the mouths of some amongst ourselves, so was it always in the lips of the very generation they praise, who extolled in their time the one which preceded it ; and that again its still more worthy predecessor. — The truth is, we are, on many accounts, exceedingly incompetent judges. There is much difficulty in taking a comparative view, that shall be sufficiently comprehensive and impartial, of our owu and other times. We are extremely apt to confine our estimate to particular descriptions of character or de- partments of conduct, which happen, whether from ac- cidental circumstances, or from our peculiar mental temperament, to have more particularly attracted our attention and impressed our minds, and to overlook the endless variety of modifications and aspects under which the corruption of our nature displays itself; to forget that in human society, there is a fashion in morality, as there is in every thing else, of which it is the very es- sence to fluctuate, and to show, in successive periods, capricious and changeful predilections; that religion and virtue, though declining in the quarter of the country which forms the immediate sphere of our observation, may be reviving and making progress in another ; that when the prevalence of any particular vice has been the occasion of injury and suffering to ourselves, we natu- rally feel and speak strongly, under the irritations of self-love, magnifying in our imaginations, both the in- trinsic enormity of the evil, and the extent to which it is practised. So much do these and other causes affect the judgment, that two persons, differing in circumstan- ces, and in mental constitution and moral sentiment, shall produce, from the very same scene of life and manners, descriptions so unlike each other, as that we g88 LECTURE XII. shall be at a loss to believe the identity of the subject ; just as two painters, following each his own taste and fiiucy, may, from the same assortment of objects, by variety of grouping and arrangement, by the different degrees of retirement or of prominence given to each, and by their opposite styles of shading and colouring present us with two pictures so totally dissimilar, as that we may look long and narrowly, ere we discover the points of coincidence. I might illustrate these remarks by an application of them to our own times, in our own country. That in some classes of the community there has been a declen- sion in purity of morals, sobriety and moderation, and personal and family religion, will hardly admit of a doubt. It was naturally to be expected, from the pro- gressive increase of riches and luxury, which never fail to bring along with them a set of new vices, and to relax the tone of public virtue. Infidelity, too, and irre- ligion have been of late more unblushingly avowed, and have drawn from some of their unhappy votaries more daring, more artful, and more extended efforts for the diffusion of their unhallowed and mischievous princi- ples, than for many years had been witnessed amongst us. — Yet many and interesting are the favourable cha- racters of the present age ; and some of its evils have originated in the existing good. The zeal of Christians for the diffusion of the word of God, and of the know- ledge and the influence of " pure and undefiled religion'' at home and abroad, has been enlarged, and its exer- tions multiplied and ardent, beyond all former exam- ple. And this not only indicates an abounding of the good principles of piety and benevolence, as the sources from which it must proceed ; but, accompanied as it is with so much united prayer for the Divine blessing, it ECCLES. VII. 7 — 14. )389 cannot fail to be productive of salutary effects, in the amelioration of individuals and communities. It is at once an index of good existing, and an efficient means of its advancement. It shows a fountain whence it emanates, and it carries with it, in all its ten thousand streams, a purifying and healing virtue. The evil has become more visible by its contrast with the good. The efforts of infidelity have arisen from the efforts of the friends of the Bible, and the wonder is, not that they should have been made now, but that they should have been so long suspended. It is a trial of strength between truth and error, between Heaven and Hell. Hell has its partial successes and triumphs ; and the great majority, alas ! remain on the side of the prince of darkness. But Heaven, we trust, is at present prevailing ; and of ulti- mate and universal victory, to the full extent of the Divine purposes and predictions, it were impious to doubt. My own firm persuasion is, that true religion is not on the decline, but on the increase, both in our own country, and in the world at large. Let us, however, beware. We are not to fancy, from the language of Solomon, that there is no difference, in a moral view, between different periods ; or that such difference is not a fair and legitimate subject, and an interesting one too, of candid observation, inquiry, and comparison. And, whilst we cannot acquiesce in the incessant complainings of men who are for ever sighing after old times, and '^ saying that the former days were better than these," we ought to be on our guard against light impressions of the abounding evils of our age and country ; for evils still prevail to a most deplorable ex- tent, and their guilt is awfully enhanced by the super- abundance of spiritual privileges, and by the very means employed for their exposure and prevention, Oo 290 LECTURE XII. But although I have ventured these general remarks oi"! this view of the passage, the other, as I have already noticed, appears to be the meaning of the writer. It re- fers to the comparative measure of suffering rather than of sin, o^ natural rather than of moral evil. He is find- ing fault with a dissatisjied spirit ; a disposition to be continually complaining of the times, as if in them were to be found all the elements of misery ; laying on them the blame of that unhappiness of which the complainer carries about the cause in his own bosom — " Say not of the former days, they were belter than these ; for thou dost not inquire wisely concerning this.^^ In the first place. Thou art inquiring for the cause of what thou shouldst first ascertain with certainty to be 2ifact ; of what possibly has no existence but in thine own distempered imagination, or partially informed judgment. — All the idle speculations about a golden age, and the purity and happiness of the simple and primitive state of society, uncontaminated by the cor- rupting refinements of civilized and luxurious life, come under this reproof. There has been no golden age in this world, but the short period of paradisaical innocence and bliss, enjoyed by the first progenitors of our since accursed race. Secondly. Consider with thyself farther, that thou knowest the evils of former times only by report; whereas of present ills thou thyself y^e/^j^ the pressure. By this feeling thy judgment is liable to be perverted. Or thou ^t-d"^? the distress that is endured by others ; and distress that is seen affects the heart more deeply than distress that is reported. The sight of the eye is more impressive in such cases, than the hearing of the car.— Thou canst balance, with an unbiassed mind, the good and the evil of "olden times," to which thou eccLEs. All. 7 — 14. 291 art not a party ; but a sufferer is more ready, through the selfishness of his nature, to brood over his one ca- lamity, than to contemplate with gratitude his multi- plied blessings ; to nauseate the drop of bitter, more than to relish the cup of sweets. Thirdly. In uttering thy complaints, with a dissa- tisfied and repining spirit, thou art unwise : for thou arraignest, in so doing, the all-wise providence of the Most High, who assigns to every successive age its portion of evil and of good. He has " fixed the times before appointed, and the bounds of our habitation;" and it is our true wisdom to be pleased and satisfied with whatever has seemed good to the wisdom that is infinite. *' What he does is ever best." The complaints of a fretted spirit are ungodly ; and the " inquiries" of such a spirit are equally unwise in their principle, and delusive in their results. Verse 11. '* Wisdom (is) good with an inheritance ; and (by it there is) profit to them that see the sun." The former part of this verse is sometimes under- stood to mean, that worldly possessions are little worth zvithout wisdom ; because the possessor of an inheri- tance, who is devoid of discretion, will either squander it away through thoughtless improvidence, or will not use it at all, or will employ it for ends that are worse than unprofitable, that are criminal and pernicious — I ima- gine however, the marginal reading, u hich accords with a common mode of Hebrew comparison, to be the true one, ** Wisdom is better than an inheritance." The eleventh and twelfth verses are obviously connected together, the latter being explanatory of the former : •' Wisdom is better than an inheritance, and a profit (or profitable) to them that see the sun" — that is, to mankind: "fo« (verse 12.) wisdom (is) a defence. S9S LECTURE XII. (and) money (is) a defence, but the excellency of know- ledge (is, that) wisdom givcth life to them that have it" '^ Wisdom is a defence, and money is a defence ;" both affording, in different ways, the means of security from the ills of life. Wisdom enables a man to consult his own safety, to '^foresee evil and hide himself," and to make many friends by his circumspect and prudent behaviour. Riches too surround their possessor with friends ; they are a powerful protection against his ene- mies, and the effectual means of averting many evils, and securing many benefits ; " a rich man's wealth is his strong city." ^^ But the excellence of knowledge" — its peculiar advantage, '' is, that wisdom giveth life to them that have it." In this especially consists its su- periority to an inheritance. " Wisdom" must here, I think, be understood in its best sense ; as signifying not mere prudence and dis- cretion, but including along with these the knowledge that " maketh wise unto salvation." Without this no man is truly wise. " The fear of the Lord, that is wis- dom." True wisdom leads its possessor to act accord- ing to just views of the comparative value of different objects of desire and pursuit ; and, therefore, to give a decided and cordial preference to the things that are unseen and eternal, above those that are seen and tem- poral ; the latter, when laid in the balance against the former, being "altogether lighter than vanity." — It is obvious, I think, that the expression, " v/isdom gwet/i life to them that have it," cannot mean merely that it enables a man the more effectually to provide for the continuance and the comfort of the present life. In this respect " money" might be considered approaching to a par with it ; and at any rate such a consideration would never have been mentioned by Solomon with so ECCLES. vir. 7 — 14. S93 much emphasis. The security and comfort of this life indeed had already been included in the comparison, '* Wisdom is a defence, and money is a defence," which represents them both as thus far answering the same purpose. But wisdom, the *' wisdom that is from above," imparts not only the true enjoyment of the the present life, but *'Iife eternal" to them that have it. This is its peculiar excellence. — " Happy (is) the man (that) findeth wisdom, and the man (that) getting understanding : for the merchandise of it (is) better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies ; and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. Length of days is in her right hand, (and) in her left hand riches and honour. Her ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of LIFE to them that lay hold upon her ; and happy (is every one) that retaineth her."* «' Take fast hold of in- struction ; let (her) not go : keep her, for she (is) thv LiFE."t *'Thisis LIFE ETERNAL, that they might know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent."J "Now, therefore, hearken unto me, O ye children ; for blessed (are they that) keep my ways. Hear instruction, and be wise, and refuse it not. Blessed (is) the man that heareth me, watching daily at my gates, waiting at the posts of my doors. For whoso findeth me findeth life, and shall obtain favour of the Lord. But he that sinneth against me wrongeth his own soul : all they that hate me love death. "H This indeed is true *^ profit to them that see the sun." <' Riches profit not in the day of wrath." The life that is obtained by wisdom, *' cannot be gotten for gold, * Prov. iii. 13—18. t IblJ. iv. 13 t John xvii. 3. ' Prov.viii. r,2~-36. ^94? LECTDIiE XII. neither shall silver be weighed for the price of it." "What is a man profited, if he should gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ? or what shall a man give, in exchange for his soul ?"* The possession of this heavenly wisdom, then, is the great secret of human happiness. Under its influence, its possessor will be led rightly to improve the varying circumstances and conditions of life, satisfied with the wise and immutable purposes of heaven : Verses 13, 14. *' Consider the work of God : for who can make (that) straight which he hath made crooked ? In the day of prosperity, be joyful ; but in the day of adversity, consider. God also hath set the one over against the other, to the end that man should find no- thing after him." To '^ consider the work of God," — to observe with close attention, and acknowledge with pious reverence, his providential hand, is an important part of true wis- dom ; as well as to bear habitually in mind the com- plete and unceasing dependence of all creatures on his sovereign will: " Who can make that straight, which he hath made crooked?" — This has no reference to the previous, undiscovered purposes of God, as to the fu- ture arrangement of his providence. These are no rule to us. We are not to allow ourselves to be influenced, either by such conjectural anticipations, or by any idea of invincible fatality. Our business is, to use with dili- gence the means that are placed in our power of ob- taining comfort and happiness, and, in the spirit of humble fuith, to leave the event to God. But when the event comes, whatever it may be, we are called to ac- quiesce in it ; not murmuring and complaining, and " fighting against God. " That were as vain, as it would * Matt. xvi. 26. ECCLES. VII. 7 — 14. 295 be impious : for " who can make that straight, which he hath made crooked?" There is no contending, with success, with innocence, or with safety, against the ap- pointments of providence. Our wisdom is to make a proper improvement of them. — " Behold, he taketh away; who can hinder him? who will say unto him, What doest thou ?" " Behold, he breaketh down, and it cannot be built again ; he shutteth up a man, and there can be no opening." ** When he giveth quietness, who then can make trouble ? and when he hideth (his) face, who then can behold him ?" " He doeth accord- ing to his will in the armies of heaven, and (among) the inhabitants of the earth : none can stay his hand, or say unto him. What doest thou?"* '^ In the day of prosperity be joyful ; but in the day of adversity, consider." God has given us of the bounties of his providence ; and it is his intention, in bestowing them, that they should be enjoyed by us, with grateful and cheerful hearts. Joy is the proper feeling for the season of pros- perity and blessing. Not to be joyful, would imply the want of a becoming spirit of thankfulness to the giver. When the children of Israel were commanded to ap- pear before the Lord, with the offering of the first-fruits of their land, the charge was given in these words : " Thou shalt set it before the Lord thy God, and shall worship before the Lord thy God. And thou shalt REJOICE in every good (thing) which the Lord thy God hath given unto thee and unto thy house, thou, and the Levite, and the stranger that (is) among you :" — and in denouncing against them the curses of hea- ven, Moses uses the following remarkable language :— ^^ Because thou servedst not the Lord thy God with * Job Ls. 12. xii. 14. xixlv. 29. Dar. iv. 35. 396 LECTURE XII. JOYFULNESS, AND WITH GLADNESS OP HEART, for the abundance of all (things:) therefore thou shalt serve thine enemies, which the Lord shall send against thee, in hunger arid in thirst, and in nakedness, and in want of all (things :) and he shall put a yoke of iron upon thy neck, until he have destroyed thee."* Whilst prosperity is the season of joy, adversity is a Divine call to serious consideration. Not that in pros- perity consideration is to be banished, or that joy is to be excluded in adversity. No. There are joys which are often most sweeth' and most intensely experienced in times of trouble. The Christian *' glories in tribula- tion." He is " sorrowful, yet always rejoicing." And when all goes well with us, — when the kindness of heaven " fills our mouth with laughter and our tongue with singing," we must never dismiss serious thoughts. We should be " when we rejoice, as though we re- joiced not ;" remembering the precariousness of earthly delights, and "joining trembling with our mirth." — But it is the design and the tendency of adversity to rouse to consideration. This is its proper effect. " Is any among you afflicted ? let him pray." Adversity contains an immediate, and frequently a startling and impressive call, to such reflections, as, alas ! prosperity is ever in danger of driving away. It sobers the intoxi- cated spirit. It summons back the mind from its heed- less and perilous wanderings. — " In the day of adver- sity," then *' consider" the Author of your trials. Whatever be their nature, and v;hatever the instrument of their infliction, they are the appointment of provi- dence ; they come from the hand of a wise and merci- ful God, — who, in all his ways, is entitled to your thoughtful regard. — ^'Consider," the cause of all ♦ Deut. isvi. 10, 11. xxviii. 47, 48- ECCLESi VII. 7 — 14. 297 suffering. It is all to be traced to sin. Sin is the bitter fountain of every bitter stream that flows in this wilder- ness.— "Consider," the great general design of ad- versity ; to excite to self-examination, repentance of sin, and renewed vigilance ; to promote the increase of faith, and love, and hope, and spirituality of mind, and general holiness of heart and life. — These various topics of consideration are fitted, when duly laid to heart, to produce the sentiments and feelings that are suited to times of trouble. The first, to inspire silent and reve- rential submission to the will of God, who is the author of our trials ; the second, humiliation of spirit under a sense of sin, as their cause ; and the third, an earnest desire for the spiritual profit, which constitutes the gra- cious design of the Divine chastiser. — " Thou shalt also consider in thy heart, that as a man chasteneth his son, (so) the Lord thy God chasteneth thee : therefore thou shalt keep the commandments of the Lord thy God, to walk in his ways, and to fear him :" — " The Lord's voice crieth unto the city, and (the man of) wis- dom shall see thy name ; hear ye the rod, and who hath appointed it :"— " Who (is) he (that) saith, and it Cometh to pass, (when) the Lord commandeth (it) not? Out of the mouth of the Most High proceedeth not evil and good. Wherefore doth a hving man complain, a man for the punishment of his sins ? Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord : let us lift up our heart with (our) hands unto God in the hea- vens :"— " Now therefore, thus saith the Lord of hosts. Consider your ways. Ye have sown much, and bring in little ; ye eat, but ye have not enough ; ye drink, but ye are not filled with drink ; ye clothe you, but there is none warm ; and he that earneth wages, earneth wages (to put it) into a bag with holes. Thus saith the p p a98 LECTURE XII. Lord of hosts, Consider your ways :" — "No affliction for the present seemeth to be joyous but grievous ; nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them who are exercised thereby. Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees; and make straight paths for your feet."* —Such are some of the many Scriptural addresses to persons in adversity ; in all of which may be recog- nized, with equal clearness, its Author, its cause, and its design. Prosperity and adversity are in the present life, and more or less in the history of every individual, inter- mingled together. They come and go with a frequent and uncertain alternation ; so that in the highest pros- perity, we should never lose sight of adversity, or al- low ourselves to forget how near a change may be. If we do forget it, it is not for want of incessant mementos. In the appearances which the world is every day and every hour presenting to our view, the Supreme Dis- poser of events, is continually " setting the one over against the other.'* One man is prospering while ano- ther is suffering ; the prosperity of one is commencing, whilst that of another is terminating ; the same man who prospered yesterday, suffers to-day ; prosperous and afflictive occurrences befal the same individual at the same moment. And what is the purpose of God in this constant alternation and intermingling of good and evil ?— It is, " to the end that man may find nothing after him." This expression is obscure. I shall content myself with mentioning several different interpretations of it, leaving it to yourselves to decide between them:— 1. That no man might come after God, to review his pro- * Deut. viii. 5, 6. Mic.vi.9. Lam. iii.37— 41. Hag. i.5— 7. Heb. xii. 11, 12. ECCI^ES. VII. 7 — 14. 299 vidential administration, and discover defect or fault ; imagining that things might have been managed to better advantage :— this ahernation of prosperity and adversity, in the lot of individuals, and in the general aspect of the vvorldj being the wisest arrangement, both for the glory of God, and for the good of men, who need adversity to prevent the intoxicating influence of prosperity, and prosperity to lighten the overwhelming pressure of adversity ; who require, amidst the tempta- tions of the world, to be constantly reminded of its precariousness ; and whose characters are, by varying circumstances, elicited and displayed, so as to make the justice of God apparent in the final judgment. — 2. That men might be sensible of their entire dependence, the lesson being brought home to their minds by their felt inability to alter, in the smallest degree, what he has gone before, and fixed. No creature can *' find any thing after Him," who " openeth, and no man shutteth, and shutteth, and no man openeth :" and this ought to produce humble submission to his sovereign appoint- ments ; seeing the attempt is thus vain to '' find" what he has not willed.— 3. That men, impressed with the uncertainly of earthly good, might find their only satis- fying portion in God himself; nothing besides him that can confer true and permanent felicity ; and in him enough to impart and to secure it, without any thing being sought for after him : that they might be led, from choice and experience, to say, " The Lord is my portion, saith my soul ; therefore will I hope in him :" — "Whom have I in heaven (but thee?) and there is none upon earth that I desire in comparison of thee. My flesh and my heart fail,- (but) God (is) the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever." Let us, from these verses, learn, In the first place, to 300 LECTURE XII. beware o( ambition,— o[ csLgerly coveting the acquisition of power. — Let the dangers arising from it to its pos- sessor be considered, and we shall rather be disposed to say, with humble self-distrust, " Lead me not into temptation!" We shall be jealous of ourselves with godly jealousy ; and, instead of being eager to acquire, we shall be backward to accept, what contains in it such a temptation to its abuse, and the abuse of which serves equally to infatuate the oppressor, and to madden the oppressed.— Not that a Christian is enjoined, or even warranted, uniformly to decline every situation of power and influence, where he might bring his princi- ciples into exercise for the benefit of society. No : it may be his duty to accept a trust, to which the voice of fellow-citizens, and the voice of providence concur to invite him. There are, besides, various descriptions and degrees of power, which arise from the relations established by nature between man and man. With whichsoever of these we are intrusted, let it be our prayer, that the grace of God may enable us to " use" our authority "as not abusing it ;" for in every case we may be under temptation, constant or occasional, to excess and oppression. You have authority as pa- rents, or as teachers, or as masters, whether of domes- tic servants, of field labourers, or of workmen in the various departments of business : — see that you never exert your power beyond the limits of right; for the gratification of any selfish principle, or the attainment of any selfish end ; for any purpose, other than the good of those over whom you possess it. And if you now hold, or should ever be called to hold, a magistracy, or any situation of public trust and influence, let the strictest equity, the most incorruptible integrity and honour, in combination with the tenderest clemency ECCLES. VII. 7 14. 301 and the most kindly benevolence, characterize your whole conduct; " that the name of God and his doc- trine be not blasphemed." Secondly. Let us cherish in our hearts, and exem- plify in our lives, the virtues of meekness, and patience, and long-suffering. These are truly Christian virtues ; despised by a proud world, but inculcated in the Scrip- tures with a frequency and earnestness that mark their value in the sight of God, and recommended to our approbation and practice by the perfect example of our blessed Master, — " who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, threatened not ; but com- mitted (himself) to Him who judgeth righteously;" who *' was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth." — Cultivate those lowly and lovely tempers, both towards one another, and towards all men. " Walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called ; with all lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, for- bearing one another in love ; endeavouring to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace:" — "Warn them that are unruly, comfort the feeble-minded, sup- port the weak, be patient toward all (men.) See that none render evil for evil unto any (man ;) but ever fol- low that which is good, both among yourselves, and to all (men):" — "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you, and persecute you ; that ye may be the children of your Father who is in heaven : for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. Be ye, therefore, merciful, as your Father who is in heaven is merciful."* * Eph. iv. 1—3. 1 Tliess. v. 14, 15. Matt. v. 44, 45, 48. with Luke vi. 36. SOS LECTURE XII. Thirdly. Let me recommend to all " the wisdom that cometh from above:"— the knowledge and the faith of Divine truth, and the practice of the Divine will. This wisdom is infinitely better than any earthly inheritance, than any araount of earthly treasures, in possession or in hope. *' It giveth life to them that have it." It *' maketh wise unto salvation'^ — the most important end, above all comparison, that can engage the con- templation, the desire, or the pursuit, of immortal be- ings.— With this wisdom is associated the favour of God, in which is life; and the "sure and certain hope" of an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fa- deth not away ;" an inheritance incomparably more ex- cellent, and infinitely more enduring, than the finest and the largest on earth ; an inheritance, of which " the land that flowed with milk and honey" was but a poor and temporary figure ; '* the better, the heavenly coun- try." He is emphatically a fool, who disregards this *< eternal inheritance," and ** lays up for himself trea- sures on earth, where moth and rust corrupt, and thieves break through and steal." — Jesus Christ is *'the wisdom of God." The knowledge of Him in his true character and mediatorial work, is eternal life. Prize more and more, my Christian brethren, this saving knowledge, and hold it fast unto the end ; when its true value, partially appreciated now, will be fully apparent, and delightfully experienced. " Will ye also go away?" said Jesus to his twelve apostles, with the look and the tone of tender interest, when some had *' gone back, and walked no more with him." " Lord," said Peter in reply, — and, oh ! adopt ye the answer, and let it come from a devoted spirit, — " Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal LIFE {"—"Beware, lest, being led away by the error ECCLES. VIT. 7 — 14. 303 of the wicked, ye fall from your own steadfastness ; but grow (in) grace, and (in) the knowledge of the Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ."* <^ And may God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, shine into the hearts" of all who hear me, " to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ !" Fourthly. Let the mixture of prosperity and adver- sity, which in this world is seen and felt by all, produce in all the blessed effects that have been described. In- stead of carping at the divine arrangements, and vainly seeking permanent enjoyment amidst the uncertainties and fluctuations of the world, be satisfied with what you cannot improve, bow to what you cannot alter, and turn for constant and lasting happiness to that " Father of lights" who is the author of " every good and perfect gift," who has stamped mutability and fickleness on every thing created, and is himself alone " without va- riableness or shadow of turning." — Let those who know God, who have " tasted that the Lord is gra- cious," cultivate and display tempers of mind corres- ponding to the states in which his providence alter- nately places them. Let the one and the other lead them to himself. "I have learned," says the apostle of the Gentiles, — may we all learn, from the same heavenly teacher, the same blessed lesson!—" I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, (therewith) to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where, and in all things, I aoi in- structed, both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth r.ie."t And, oh ! let the man of this world, whether at the • John vi. 68. 2 Pet. iii. ir, 18. \ Phii. iv. 11—13. 304 LECTURE XII. ECCLES. VII. 7 14. present moment in prosperity or adversity, be persuaded to" consider." A portion, in a scene so changeful and so fleeting, will not do. If you are prospering, recollect that, short as your earthly life must be, your prosperity may be shorter. If you are suffering, you have already learned the precariousness of prosperity. " Set not, then, your eyes any more on that which is not;" but seek for yourselves, " in heaven, a better and more en- during substance ;" — in heaven, where prosperity and adversity are no longer set " the one over against the other," but all is " fulness of joy, and pleasures for evermore." Fret not at the vanity of the world. Mur- mur not that your prosperity has not been more steady. Its departure, if you rightly improve it, may do you infinitely more good, than you could have derived from its longest continuance, or its highest possible augmen- tation. Vent not a sinful spleen in unprofitable com- plaints of the times, and repinings that your lot had not been cast in an earlier and a better age. The times, no doubt, are bad ; yet bad times might be the best times for mankind, if they would but make a right use of them, and learn from them the salutary lessons of spiritual wisdom. And with you, my friends, the very best times are bad,— miserably bad, whilst you con- tinue to live *' without God in the world." The best times are the worst, if they take away your hearts from him, and impose upon you the unsubstantial and pass- ing shadows of happiness for its solid and eternal reali- ties. *' O taste, and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him." LECTURE XIII. EccLEs. \ii. 15 — 23. 15 " ^11 C things J have I seen in the days of my vanity : there is a just CmanJ that /lerisheth in his righteousness, and there is a wicked 1 6 CmanJ that firolortgeth (his life J in his wickedness. Be not righ- teous overmuch ; neither make thyself overnuise : why shouldest thou. n destroy thyself? Be not overmuch wicked, neither be thou foolish r 18 why shouldest thou die before thy time? fit is J good that thou shouldest take hold of this ; yea, also from this withdraw not thine 19 hand : for he thatfeareth God shall come forth of them alL Wisdom strengiheneth the wise more than ten mighty (men J who are in the 20 city. For (there is J not a just man ufion earth, that doeth good, 21 and sinneth not. Also take no heed' unto all words that are spoken; 22 lest thou hear thy servant curse thee : For oftentimes also thine own heart knoweth that thou thyself likewise hast cursed others.^* "Oehold," says the Psalmist, "thou hast made my days as a hand-breadth, and mine age is as nothing be- fore thee : verily every man, at his best estate, is alto- gether vanity.*' All a man's days on earth might there- fore be with propriety denominated *' the days of his vanity." The designation, however, appears to be ap- plied by Solomon to that period of his life, during which he forsook God, and tried to find his happiness from worldly sources. The days of this period were indeed emphatically what he here denominates them. — In the course of these days, he had taken a very exten- sive survey of human life, and had marked with atten- tion, in the spirit of a philosophical observer, the va- rious circumstances which, in difierent situations, af- fected the happiness of mankind : — '' All things," says Qq 306 LECTURE XIII. he, in verse 15. *' have I seen in the days of my vanity." He specifies one of his observations, and founds upon it the counsel of wisdom r—*^ There is a just (man) that perisheth in his righteousness, and there is a wicked (man) that prolongeth (his life) in his wickedness." — The subject here, I apprehend, is not the conduct of Divine providence respecting the fortunes and lives of the righteous and the wicked ; but rather the treatment which these two opposite descriptions of character fre- quently experience from the world : though this, no doubt, takes place under the superintendence, and by the permission, of Heaven. Solomon had noted various instances, iu which the consistently righteous man, the man who by his conduct " testifies against the world that its deeds are evil," and especially one who, along with this character, holds a station of power and emi- nence in which he feels his obligation to act conscien- tiously, without regard to fear or to ftivour, to flattery or to threatening, exposed himself to the malignant operation of hatred and envy, by which his days had been at once embittered and cut short, through open violence or by secret treachery : whilst the wicked man had " prolonged his life in his wickedness," acting on principles more congenial to the likings of the world in which he lived, and employing arts for his preservation such as the just man could not in conscience have re- course to; so that sometimes he had even succeeded in lengthening out his days by his wickedness, whilst the good man had prematurely perished for his righteous- ness. From the days of " righteous Abel," downward through the history of all nations, facts are not wanting in corroboration of Solomon's statement. The whole army of martyrs, as well as many an ill-requited patriot, might be brought as witnesses to its truth. ECCLES. VII. 15 %%. 307 With this general observation, what follows is to be considered as in immediate connection : — Verses 16 — 18. " Be not righteous overmuch ; nei- ther make thyself overwise ; why shouldst thou destroy thyself? Be not overmuch wicked ; neither be thou foolish ; why shouldest thou die before thy time? (It is) good that thou shouldest take hold of this ; yea, also from this withdraw not thy hand : for he that feareth God shall come forth of them all." Persons who relish not nor study the word of God as a whole, have often particular parts of it which they like ; favourite texts, such as when severed from their connection, and regarded in their sound rather than their sense, appear to suit their pre-conceived opinions, and prevalent desires. These little insulated scraps of Scrip- ture, misunderstood and perverted, and applied to pur- poses the very opposite of the Divine intention, obtain a free currency amongst multitudes of people, many of whom perhaps never read them in their Bibles, but have got them at second-hand as maxims of high au- thority ; and they are quoted on all occasions, and re- ferred to with the easy confidence of a geometrician quoting his axioms. In this, and in many other ways, the word of God meets with treatment, which would be resented as an insult by any human author ; being made to express sentiments in perfect contrariety to its gene- ral spirit, and even to its most explicit declarations. Few texts (perhaps I might say none) have ever been in such general favour, have ever been caught at, and circulated, and appealed to with approbation, by so great a variety of characters, as the first clause of the sixteenth verse, — " Be not righteous overmuch." — Its grand recommendation lies in its being so undefined, sus- ceptible of so many shades of meaning ; prescribing no 308 LECTURE xtir. precise boundaries, but leaving matters conveniently at large, and thus affording latitude for every man to fix his own standard, (and even that may be very fluc- tuating,) and then to appeal to Scripture against all who go beyond him, as exceeding reasonable bounds, and being " righteous overmuch." For it is surprising how men, who hate and disregard the Bible in its great truths and requirements, will yet quote its words, nay, even plead for its authority, when it can be made, by any perversion, to accord with their own inclinations. The saying is a favourite one witli the profligate, who, in cursing the enthusiasm and hypocrisy of others, vainly fancies that he is vindicating his own vice and folly ; and who reckons it quite a sufficient reason for rejecting with scorn a serious and salutary advice, that it comes from one whom all must allow to be — " righ- teous overmuch." Often, on the other hand, is it appealed to by the man of morality, who, with stern severity, condemns, the profligate, but who piques himself on his own sobriety, honesty, industry, kindness, and general decency of character; and making this external virtue his religion, though without a single sentiment or emotion of inward godliness, considers every thing beyond it as being — '^righteous overmuch." Many, who are equally destitute of the true spirit of religion, who feel its services an irksome drudgery, whose secret language in them all is, " What a weari- ness isit !" and who therefore satisfy their consciences with very flimsy apologies for t!ie neglect of them, are ever ready to pronounce those ''' righteous overmuch," who cannot see their excuses in the same satisfactory light with themselves. This admonition too is a weapon in constant use with ECCLES. VII. 15 — 23. 309 the thousands, whose religion consists in the strict ob- servance of its outward forms, in their appropriate times and places. They would not for the world be missed out of their pew on a Sunday, and with even greater reluctance on certain days of human institution. But they are clear for keeping religion to its proper place. This is a topic on which they continually insist ; a spe- cies of propriety which, in company with a smile of self-complacency, is for ever on their lips. It is all well, if a man minds religion on its own appropriate day, and attends to his business the rest of the week. These things must not be made to clash. " Six days shalt thou labour, and one thou shalt rest," are God's own prescriptions :— and the bible itself enjoins us not to be — *' righteous overmuch." But there are none to whom this favourite caution is of more essential service, than those professors of reli- gion, of whom, alas! the number is not small, who, dis- liking " the offence of the cross," are desirous to keep on good terms with both Christ and the world, and who cover from others, and try to cover from themselves, the real principle of their conduct, by prudential max- ims of imposing plausibility, and some of them in the terms of Scripture. The wisdom of the serpent, they say, is recommended to us, as well as the harmlessness of the dove. They Cclfcnot see the use of exposing themselves and their religion to needless derision. They are ever mightily afraid, lest, by the over- strictness and uncomplying spirit of its professors, men should be led to form gloomy notions of the gospel, as a system of morose and puritanical austerity. " We must needs go out of the world," they allege, " if we are to take no part in its pleasures." Under the pretext of recom- mending religion, such persons meet the world half- 310 LECTURE XIII. way ; they join in its follies and vain amusements ; they rather court than shun its intercourse ; and they sanc- tion their unseemly compliances by an appeal to the admonition before us ; regarding the reproach cast upon others, who think a more decided and marked separa- tion from the world their duty, as brought upon them- selves by their own imprudence, — by carrying matters too far, — by being " righteous overmuch." A passage of Scripture that has been so much abused, and of which the abuse is so extensively prejudicial, it is of great importance rightly to understand : and, be- fore noticing any of the different views that have been taken of it, I shall state what to me appears to be its true meaning. The whole passage seems to be an instance of seri- ous and impressive irony : of which the subject is, the line of conduct most prudent to be pursued, sup- posing the end in view to be the securing of favour, honour, and prosperity in the world. — Thus : — ** There is a just man that perisheth in his righteousness, and there is a wicked man that prolongeth his life in his wickedness." If, therefore, you wish to avoid the en- mity of the world, with its mischievous and sometimes deadly consequences, and to insure favour, success, honour, and long life, — " be not righteous overmuch :" —-remember that religion is a matter, in which men, in general, are particularly fond of moderation; and beware of assuming an appearance of sanctity greater than the world is disposed to approve of, or to bear with. " Neither make thyself over wise ; why shouldst thou destroy thyself?" Recollect, that the same feelings of envy and malignant jealousy may be excited, as they very often have been, by high degrees of superior in- telligence and wisdom. Be not obtrusive, therefore^ ECCLES. VII. id — 22. 811 with your eminent endowments. Deal prudently. Be cautious of exasperating the jealous pride of others. Be- sides the risks that arise from envy, such qualities may bring you often into the critical situation of an arbi- trator ; in which you must unavoidably expose your- self to the resentment of one or other of the parties, and possibly even of both. And from various other sources, danger may arise to you.— But, at the same time, beware. Similar effects may be produced by op- posite causes. Although men do not like overmuch religion, you must be on your guard, on the other hand, against the extreme of wickedness :— " Be not over- much wicked." You will expose yourself to suspicion and hatred, as a dangerous member of society : men will become your enemies from fear, and will think they confer a benefit on the community, by making riddance of you : nay, in the excess of riotous and unbridled profligacy you may be betrayed into deeds which may awaken the vengeance of human laws, and bring you to an untimely end. Let prudent consideration, then, set bounds to your licentiousness. — "Neither be thou foolish ; why shouldst thou die before thy time ?" As there are hazards attending high pretensions to wisdom, so are there risks peculiar to folly. The absolute fool becomes the object of contempt. His life is hardly thought worth an effort, far less a sacrifice, for its pre- servation. The fool is easily made the tool and the dupe of a party ; exposing himself to be the prey of virulent enemies, or of selfish pretended friends. Folly leads a man into innumerable scrapes. It may induce him heedlessly to mix with wicked associates, and may thus, as indeed has many a time happened, occasion his suf- fering for crimes, in the perpetration of which he had no active hand, and which, fool as he is, he would shrink 3 IS LECTURE XIII. from committing. And in numberless ways he may- come, by his folly, to *' die before his time." — If, there- fore, I repeat, your object be to shun the world's enmity, with its possible and probable effects, and to secure the world's favour, with its desirable accompaniments and consequences, take care of these extremes ; — as " there is a just (man) that perisheth in his righteousness, — be not righteous overmuch, neither make thyself over- wise ; why shouldst thou destroy thyself?"— and though '*a wicked (man") may, and sometimes does, " prolong (his life) in his wickedness," yet " be not overmuch wicked, neither be thou foolish ; why shouldst thou die before thy time ?" AH Scripture irony is serious, and intended to im- press on the mind important lessons. The passage is, in this respect, similar to that striking one towards the close of the book : " Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes : — but know thou that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment." — So here, the admonition closes with an impressive recommenda- tion of the fear of the Lord, as the best and only means of inspiring true peace and tranquil security of mind, as a sovereign antidote against the fear of man, and a powerful incentive to the faithful and firm discharge of duty in every situation : — -Verse 18. " (It is) good that thou shouldst take hold of this ; yea, also from this with- draw not thy hand: for he that feareth God SHALL COME FORTH OF THEM ALL." " It is good,"— supremely good and advantageous, " that thou shouldst lay hold on this," — that is, on what I am now about to mention ; '' yea, also from this with- draw not thy hand, "—that is, let this antidote against ECCLES. VII. 15 — 22. 319 the perils of an evil world, and against the fear of man, which so often brings a snare, be the subject of thy constant and attentive remembrance, the object of thy supreme and unceasing desire, and of thine unabating endeavours after its thorough attainment and its per- manent influence ; — *' for he that feareth God shall come forth of them all." Instead of adopting any of the max- ims, or following any of the schemes, of a carnal policy and worldly wisdom, " be thou in the fear of the Lord all the day long:" " Sanctify the Lord God in your heart ; let him be your fear, and let him be your dread : and He shall be for a sanctuary." He shall be thy for- tress and strong tower ; so that thou shalt not need to be afraid of what man can do unto thee. " Thou shalt dwell on high ; and thy place of defence shall be the munition of rocks." '^He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High, shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, (He is) my refuge and my fortress ; my God, in him will I trust. He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust : his truth (shall be thy) shield and buckler."* " Fear not them who kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul : but rather fear him, who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? and one of them shall not fall to the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many spar- rows."! The nineteenth verse may be connected with this, as containing an amplification of the idea expressed in the latter part of it. " Wisdom strengtheneth the wise more than ten mighty men who are in the city." " Wis- * Psal. xcl . 1, 2, 4. t Matt. x. 2£— 3 1 : Rr S14 LECTURE XIII. dom," — that is, this v/isdom, the fear of God, declared in other places to be wisdom, and the beginning of wis- dom,—this wisdom *« strengtheneth the wise:" it for- tifies and invigorates the soul ; it elevates it above every other fear ; it inspires the heart with a firm feeling of se- curity, and with resolute, undaunted courage in the path of duty, however beset with enemies and ob- structed by difficulties. " Thou wilt keep him in per- fect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee." " Wisdom strengtheneth the wise more," — imparts to them more of inward confidence^ and of real safety, *' than ten mighty men," ten experi- enced and skilful, powerful and intrepid leaders ; or, understanding the number ten as a definite for an inde- finite, more than any number of valiant warriors, '^ who are in the city," can give to its inhabitants when invested by a beslcglijg foe. Such a city may be deemed secure, when so defended : but the fear of God is a still stronger and surer defence to them who put their trust in his power and mercy. — Or, supposing the *' ten mighty men who are in the city," to be the foes of " him who fears God," wisdom makes him stronger than his ene- mies, gives him fortitude of mind against them, how- ever numerous and however mighty. He that is with him is more than all that can be against him ; so that he may say, with the Psalmist, " Though a host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear ; though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident :" *' 1 laid me down and slept ; I awaked, for the Lord sustained me : I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people, that have set themselves against me round about," The felt security of those who are under the special protecting care of the Almighty, is finely repre- sented by the case of the prophet Elisha, when sur- EGGLES. VII. 15 22. 315 rounded in Dothan by the host of the king of Syria. When his servant, on rising in the morning, saw the city invested on all sides with horses and chariots, he said, with a fearful heart, " Alas ! my master, how shall we do ?" Elisha answered, " Fear not ; for they that be with us, are more than they that be with them." And he prayed, and said, " Lord, 1 pray thee, open his eyes that he may see. And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw : and behold the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha." This host of the Lord was unseen but by the eye of faith. To the mind of the prophet it imparted the most fearless composure, under circumstances in which, to the eye of sense, his destruction must have seemed inevitable.* In vindication of the general principle which I have adopted for the explanation of this passage, let it now be observed, in the first place : The motives which So- lomon employs to recommend and enforce his advice, evidently show, that in the fifteenth verse, when he speaks of " a righteous man perishing in his righteous- ness, and a wicked man prolonging his life in his wick- edness," he refers not directly to the conduct of provi- dence, but to the consequences arising to the righteous and the wicked, from the feelings of mankind towards them : for, in the ordinary administration of God, the duration of human life does not appear to be at all regu- lated by the characters of men. Secondly. If the counsel, " Be not righteous over- much" means, that it is our duty to be righteous, but that we should beware of excess in righteousness ; then the opposite counsel, ** Be not overmuch wicked," if taken seriously, (that is, as having nothing in it of the ♦ 2 Kings vi. 15—17. 316 LECTURE XIII. nature of irony,) must, on the same principle of inter- pr-etation, be understood to signify, that we may be wicked, provided we take due care not to exceed^ or to go beyond bounds in our wickedness. But this surely can never be the counsel of the word of God. Every reader of the bible will be instantly sensible how much it is out of unison with the universal tenor of its senti- inent and phraseology. Thirdly. Right eousness, when opposed, as it is here, to wickedness, usually means, in Scripture language, true religion in general, in all its various branches, of principle and of practice ; the eiuire profession and course of conduct of a good man. In this enlarged sense I understand it here ; and this makes me dissatisfied with other interpretations of the passage. Some consider righteousness as referring particularly to the exercise o^ justice^ and the admonition not to be righteous overmuch, as a caution against the over-rigid application of the principles of equity, pressing every thing to an extreme, never tempering justice with cle- mency, but exacting satisfaction and punishment, with- out mercy, on all occasions, even for the most trivial faults. — But if righteousness mean simply justice, then wickedness must mean simply injustice; and if "be not righteous overmuch" be a warning against the ex- treme of justice, '* be not overmuch wicked" must be a warning against the extreme of injustice; a warning which we certainly should not expect to find in that book, which admits of no compromise between right and wrong, and whose sentence is, " He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much ; and he that is unjust in the least is unjust also in much."* — ■ Those who have adopted the interpretation I am speak- * Luke xvi. 10. ECCLES. vn. 15 — S3. 317 ing of have not, I think, sufficiently attended to the antithesis in the passage ; nor duly considered, that the true principle of interpretation, whatever it may be, ought to apply, with equal fairness and ease, to both sides of it. There is reason, indeed, to think, that the counsel " be not righteous overmuch" is quoted by multitudes without the most distant recollection, and by not a few without even the knowledge, of its being followed immediately by the admonition not to be *' overmuch wicked." Others, understanding the terms " righteous" and ** wicked," as I think they ought to be understood, in their more general acceptation, and at the same time conceiving " Be not righteous overmuch" to be Solo- mon's serious counsel, cannot, however, deny, that of true righteousness, of real religion, of genuine unsophis- ticated goodness, there cannot be excess. They arc, therefore, under the necessity of qualifying and restrict- ing after all. — Some of them explain the words as a cau- tion agSLinst intemperate zeal, exerting itself indiscreetly, contentiously, and to the injury of religion :— some, as a warning against a blind and bigotted superstition^ displaying itself in an excessive attachment to rites and ceremonies of human invention, or even, it may be, to external institutions of Divine appointment, whilst the spirit of vital godliness is entirely or in a great measure overlooked :~others as an admonition against a needless scrupulosity about trifles ; a want of proper discrimina- tion between smaller and greater matters, between what have been termed essentials, and non-essentials ; from which have arisen the hottest contentions, and number- less unnecessary schisms. Of all these, and other interpretations of a similar kind that might be noticed, it may be observed in ge- 318 LECTURE XIII. neral : — First, that these things are not properly righ- teousness ; but the mere adjuncts, and unjustifiable accompaniments or counterfeits of righteousness : and secondly, that if such things are meant in the exhor- tation, ^' I3e not righteous overmuch," if will follow, that what is said, in the verse preceding, of " the righ- teous man perishing in his righteousness," must be considered as expressing, not the consequence of his real godliness itself, but of his imprudent profession and practice, or his needlessly ostentatious display, of it. But this certainly is not what Solomon means, when he contrasts the " righteous perishing in his righteous- \ ness," and the " wicked prolonging his life in his wickedness." Considering righteousness, then, in its proper sense, in the sense in which it is generally used in the Bible, I must repeat what has before been hinted, that no man who is conversant in the contents of that blessed vo- lume, can for a moment admit the idea of its containing a caution against the excess of it ;— the excess of true religion and moral obedience. Were such excess pos- sible, surely it is not the side on which we are in dan- ger of erring, and require to be seriously admonished. —Shall we warn him against too much spirituality of mind, who feels himself by nature " carnal, sold under sin," and in whose bosom the " law of sin" is inces- santly striving against the *' law of his mind ?" Shall we put him on his guard against allowing the love of God, the comprehensive principle of all righteousness, to occupy too much of his heart, whose nature is en- mity against him? Shall we caution against looking too constantly at the things which are unseen and eter- nal, a creature whose propensities are so powerful to seek his portion in the things that are seen and tempo v ECCLES. vir. 15 — 22. 319 ral ; who feels his affections drawn downward, and bound to the earth ? How preposterous the thought, of warning a sinful creature against the excess of holiness ! a selfish creature against the excess of benevolence and integrity ! an earthly-minded creature against too intimate fellow- ship with heaven ! a creature surrounded with tempta- tions to equivocate between God and the world, and who carries about within him principles of the old man, to which, alas ! these temptations are too congenial, against a profession and conduct too decided on the part of God and of godliness ! a creature who is so much in danger of seeking glory from men, against estimating too highly or coveting too eagerly, the ho- nour that Cometh from God only ! a creature, in a word, that has so many sadly prevailing tendencies to the en- tire dereliction of righteousness, against being " righ- teous overmuch !" Lastly/. The whole of the language of the Divine word, in describing the character at which God's peo- ple ought continually to aim, is fitted to impress on every mind the impossibility of the dreaded excess, — of being ^' righteous overmuch." Let a few passages suffice as a specimen of many.—^^ If any man (be) in Christ ; (he is) a new creature : old things are passed away ; behold all things are become new." ^' Whoso- ever hath this hope in him," (in Christ; namely, the hope of seeing him as he is and being like him,) *' pu- rifieth himself even as he is pure ." " Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended : but (this) one thing (I do:) forgetting the things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." " Set your affections on things above, not on things on the earth." "I beseech you, 330 LECTURE XIII. therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God that ye pre» sent your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, (which is) your reasonable service : and be jiot conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your minds, that ye may prove what (is) the good and acceptable and perfect will of God." " They that are Christ's have crucified the flesh, with the affections and lusts." " Love not the world, neither the things (that are) in the world ; for if any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him." " Ye cannot serve God and mammon." " The friendship of the world is enmity with God : whosoever therefore will be a friend of the world, is the enemy of God." " Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all pollution of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God." " Giv- ing all diligence, add to your faith, fortitude, and to for- titude, knowledge; and to knowledge, temperance ; and to temperance, patience ; and to patience, godliness : and to godliness, brotherly-kindness ; and to brotherly- kindness, charity." "For none of us liveth to himself, and none of us dieth to himself: for whether we live, we live unto the Lord, and whether we die, we die unto the Lord, : whether we live, therefore, or die, we are the Lord's."* — These passages, which are only an ex- emplification of the current phraseology of the Bible on the subject of Christian holiness, express a spirituality, a decision and self-denial, a universality, perseverance, and progress, of practical obedience, utterly inconsis- tent with any cautions against the danger of excess, and admonitions to moderation. Of such sedatives, alas I we stand not in need. All the exciting stimulants that * 2 Cor. V. 17. 1 John ill. 3. Phil. iii. 13, 14. Col. iii. 2. Rom, xii. 1, 2. Gal. V. 24. 1 John ii. 15. MuXt. vi. 24. James iv. 4. 2 Cor. vii. 1 2 Pet. i. 5—7. Rom. xiv. 7, S. ECCLi*'. vir. 15 — 22. 321 can be applied to our minds, are few enough, and weak enough, to keep us on the alert against the temptations of the world, and live to the great ends of our being. The sinless perfection of our mortal nature, is the ob- ject of commanded pursuit and of promised attainment. We can never, even in a future world, go beyond this; and in the present world, bearing about with us to the end the corruption of the old man, we can never reach it. We can never exceed the requirements of the pre- cepts 1 have been repeating. To be " righteous over- much," is an impossibility. The statement in the twentieth verse, — " for (there is) not a just man upon earth, that doeth good, and sin- neth not," is made without exception or qualification; and ought for ever to lay in the dust the lofty preten- sions of some professing Christians, as if they had at- tained to a state of perfect freedom from inward and outward sin ; a pretension pregnant with the most astonishing self-ignorance, or the most presumptuous spiritual pride. There are ^''just men upon the earth :" they " do good," and manifest by its fruits the nature and qualities of the tree. But there are no perfect men upon the earth ; none who can say, without the most pitiable self-deception, " I have no sin." There is many a one that " doeth good ;" but no one that " doeth good and sinneth not ;" — no, not one. Not only are we guilty of many sins along with our good deeds ; but in our good deeds themselves there is sin. " There is not a just man upon earth that doeth good, and" even in the good that he doeth, " sinneth not." we have all of us abundant reason to say, not only that " in many things we offend," but that in every thing we " fail and come short ;" and still to come to God with the prayer of the publican, "God be merciful to me a sinner." Ss S22 LECTUllE XIH. But the connection of the verse with what precedes is not, at first view, very obvious: and accordingly different translations have been proposed of the connec- tive particle, rendered by our translators " For /" some joining it with what goes before, and others with what follows. There seems no need for any alteration. The verse connects in a natural and edifying manner with the sentiment of the eighteenth and nineteenth verses : " (It is) good that diou shouldst lay hold on this; yea, also from this withdraw not thy hand : for he that feareta God shall come forth of them ail. Wisdom"— this wis- dom, the fear of God, — " strengtheneth the wise more than ten mighty (men) who are in the city." The ad- monition to cultivate the fear of God is then enforced by the appropriate consideration, " For (there is) not a just man upon earth, thatdoeth good, and sinneth not." You are a sinful and imperfect creature ; having the seeds of all evil within you ; ever liable to feel the power of temptation, and to fall before it. Cherish, therefore, the fear of God, as the great preventive of evil ; the strengthening and sustaining principle amidst abounding intimidations and allurements ; that which alone can counteract the propensities of corruption. One temptation to sin, a frequent and a strong one, is the fear of man. But the predominant fear of God raises the mind above it ; gives vigour of heart, boldness of countenance, and energy of resistance ; and, maintained in exercise by the Spirit of God, secures the final victory. Verses 21st and 22d contain some further necessary advice, for the preservation of our peace and happiness in life :— " Also, take no heed unto all words that are spoken ; lest thou hear thy servant curse thee. For oftentimes also thine own heart knoweth, that thoia thyself likewise hast cursed others." ECCLES. VII. 15 — 22. 323 The precept requires practice more than it needs illustration. Its general nature is sufficiently plain. It is addressed to those who are apt to be jealous of what is thought and what is said about them by others ; who are continually on the tiptoe of listening suspicion. It has been said, and is almost proverbial, that listeners seldom hear good of themselves. It is quite natural to expect that it should be so. The very practice shows the man's conscience to be inwardly whispering to him- self, that it is not good he is entitled to hear. The anx- ious curiosity indicates the existence of such a secret sus- picion ; and he who indulges it, well deserves the mor- tification he receives. — If we regard our own happiness, we shall pay attention to this admonition. The feeling must be one of exquisite distress, when a man, expect- ing commendation and blessing, hears from the lips that should have uttered it, reviling and malediction. In such a case, surely, " ignorance is bliss." It may often happen, that a person, under the irritation of tem- porary passion, may utter hastily the severe reflection, and the imprecation of evil, to which he would by no means stand in his cooler moments. What he has hastily- uttered he quickly forgets. But he who is the subject of it cannot so readily banish it from his mind ; he can- not, from his self-partiality, make adequate allowance for the momentary passion that has produced it ; he broods over it : it leaves a deep and rankling wound ; and he thus makes himself lastingly unhappy, by hear- ing what he who said it has not lodged in his bosom for a single hour. — We should, besides, be influenced to receive this admonition by the consideration suggested in the twenty-second verse : *' For oftentimes also thine own heart knoweth that thou thyself likewise hast cursed others." You not only are aware, my fellow- christians, 324 LECTURE xiir. how you were wont to feel and to speak, when you were destitute of the grace of God ; but you are conscious to yourselves how you are apt to be affected still : how ready you are, in the moment of irritation, to kindle with resentful emotion, and to utter the wish of evil ; nay, how much you are in danger of even retaining and cherishing the spirit of malediction. Sensible of this, you will " beware of giving heed unto all words that are spoken." Your own consciousness will prevent you from thinking it impossible that you should hear any evil of yourselves ; and it will, at the same time, teach you, to make allowance for the passions and the hasty speeches of other men. From this passage, I may, in the first place, address to my fellow-christians, the words of the apostle John, ** Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you." No strange thing happens to you. It has been so, as the apostle, in the connection of the words quoted, reminds his brethren, from the very beginning ; from the time when God said to the serpent, " I will put enmity be- tween thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed." *' Cain was of that wicked one, and slew his brother : and wherefore slew he him ? Because his own works were evil, and his brother's righteous." — The same principles of enmity against God, and his spiritual children, continued to operate in the days of Solomon ; who saw " the just (man) perishing in his righteousness, and the wicked (man) prolonging his life in his wickedness " — And never was the hostility of human nature to God and goodness more affectingly displayed, than at the fulness of time, during the per- sonal ministry of the Son of God ; when the Eternal Word, made flesh, dwelt amongst men, '^full of grace and truth." He was hated by the world, because, by ECCLES. VII. 15 — 23. 325 the perfection of his example, and the faithfulness of his ministry, he *' testified of it that its deeds were evil." And most emphatically might it be said of him, that he *^ perished in his righteousness."— His apostles after him experienced the same effects from the same cause, agreeably to his own faithful premonition: " If the world hate you, ye know that it hated me before (it hated) you. If ye were of the world, the world would love his own : but, because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you. Remember the word that I said unto you, The servant is not greater than his Lord. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they have kept my saying, they will keep yours also." And the case is still unaltered. The enmity between the seed of the serpent and the seed of the woman still subsists. Various circumstances in providence, indeed, prevent it (and for this we have cause to be thankful,) from operating in the way of public persecution of the Chris- . tian name. But still it exists, and still it shows itself, in an endless variety of more private ways, wherever the decidedly serious and spiritual religion of the gos- pel is exhibited. Unrcgenerated human nature likes not God and holiness one v*'hit better now than it has ever done. The pure and lov.ly Saviour is still, and often even in the midst of professed and nominal attach- ment to him, '^ despised and rejected of men :" and the tendency of the cordial acceptance, and the humble and spiritual profession of his doctrine, still is, to separate a man from his brethren ; to divide households, two against three, and three against two ; and by its colli- sion with the corrupt passions of the heart in those who continue strangers to its saving power, to strike out the sparks, and kindle the fire, of persecution and strife. 62Q LECTURE XIII. Wheresoever, and to what extent soever, the spirit of hostility displays itself, let the sufferers remember, both for their encouragement and their admonition, the words of their Master: " Blessed (are) they who are persecuted for righteousness' sake ; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed (are) ye when (men) shall revile you, and persecute (you,) and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be ex- ceeding glad, for great (is) your reward in heaven." O remember, my brethren, it must be " for righteous- ness' sake" that you suffer, — it must be •■' falsely" that you are evil spoken of, else the blessing cannot be yours. " But if ye suffer for righteousness' sake, happy (are ye :) and be not afraid of their terror, neither be troubled ; but sanctify the Lord God in your hearts : and (be) ready always to (give) an answer to every one that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear."* Secondly. Let men beware of wresting and abusing the Scriptures, to their own delusion and ruin. — It is a very sure evidence of a man's not being decidedly righteous at all, when he is particularly fond of the cau- tion (misinterpreted, as in that case we are certain it must be) " not to be righteous overmuch :" — a caution, which is often repeated, with a sneer of a malicious satis- faction, by men in whose eyes ail real, heartfelt, spiritual religion, all scriptural godliness, is held as enthusiasm and madness : — that religion, I mean, which mourns for sin in deep self-abasement ; which loves the Saviour supremely ; which is addicted to reading the bible, to prayer and communion with God ; which counts the sabbath a delight ; which shrinks, with a delicate ten- derness of conscience, from even the appearance of * Matt. V. 10—12. 1 Pet. iii. 14, 15. ECCLES. VII. 15 — 22. 3g7 evil ; which ceases to have pleasure in the empty vani- ties, the time-and-soul-killing follies, of a passing world, and weeps in pity for those who have ; which seeks to enjoy God in all things, and all things in God. My friends, the subject is serious, — deeply serious ; worthy of being in earnest about. Either you must be- long to the people of God, or to the world : and the time is coming when this distinction shall be anounced with awful solemnity, and shall be fixed, with its con- sequences on either side, in eternal permanence. With easy lightness of heart, and scornful rejection of serious counsel from those who feel the weight of religious truth and the sacredness of religious duty, you talk of " not being righteous overmuch ;" and you thus cloak under a Bible phrase your deplorable regard- lessness of the Bible's most important discoveries and most imperative obligations. You spurn its pure and elevated sanctities away from you, and, with infatuated thoughtlessness, allege its own authority for doing so. But you do not read your Bible, els^ you never would talk thus. O my friends do bethink yourselves. A sinful creature "righteous overmuch!" — a sinner too good ! Can you, in your consciences, believe, that the word of God seriously warns you against the danger of this ? If not, O beware of perverting a Divine coun- sel ;— beware of doing with the word of the Eternal God what you would resent as an insult were it done with your own. "(There is) not a just man upon earth, that doeth good and sinneth not." There is not therefore a just man upon earth, that can stand accepted before God on the ground of his own righteousness. Such is the cha- racter of that Being with whom we have to do, and such the requirements of his perfect law, that nothing but a 328 LECTURE XIII. sinless righteousness can procure acceptance at his bar. Such a righteousness is not to be found in fallen man. And the very first, and a most distinctive feature, in the character of the renewed, is the entire renunciation of all dependence on their own doings, and a simple- hearted reliance on the perfect righteousness,— the obe- dience, atonement, and intercession, of the Son of God. All of them are ready to say, v/ith deep prostration of soul before God, " If thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniqui- ties, O Lord, who shall stand?" '* Enter not into judg- ment with thy servant ; fcr in thy sight shall no man living be justified:" ^'Godbe merciful to me a sinner!" Forget not, at the same time, that personal righteous- ness, " walking in newness of life" is the only unequi- vocal evidence of interest, by faith, in the righteousness of the Redeemer. Therefore, Thirdly. Let Christians implore, with earnestness and constancy, the influences of the Spirit of God, at once to deepen their sense of sinfulness, and at the same time to maintain in fuUvigour in their souls the " fear of God ;" that by this wisdom they may be brought through all temptation, may " come forth," victorious, from all opposition, and untainted, from all the corrupt- ing influence of an evil world: — that they may manifest in increasing holiness the increasing power of this sa- cred principle: — that they may not be 'Hed away by the error cf the wicked, and so fall from their own stead- fastness, but may grow in grace, and in the knowledge of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." Let it be their constant desire and aim, to be righteous more and more; never thinking that they have already attained, or that they are already perfect." Let them " follow holiness without which no man shall see the Lord." " Of this'' let them *' take hold;" "from this let them not with- ECCLES. yii. 15 — 22. 339 draw their hand." " Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling ; for it is God that worketh in you, both to will and to do of his good pleasure." " Gird up the loins of your minds, be sober, and hope to the end for the grace that shall be brought unto you at the reve- lation of Jesus Christ. As obedient children, not fash- ioning yourselves according to the former lusts in your ignorance ; but, as he who hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation : because it is written, Be ye holy, for I am holy. And if ye call on the Father, who, without respect of persons, judgeth according to every man's work, pass the time of your sojourning (here) in f^ar : forasmuch as ye know, that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, (as) sil- ver and gold, from your vain conversation (received) by tradition from your fathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and with- out spot : who verily was foreordained before the foun- dation of the world, but was manifest in these last times for you ; who by him do believe in God, who raised him up from the dead, and gave him glory, that your faith and hope might be in God."* Lastly, Let a sense of our own liableness and prone- ness to err, in heart, in word, and in conduct, render us charitable, candid, and gende, in our judgments of others. The principle of the admonition, '' Take no heed unto all words that are spoken, lest thou hear thy servant curse thee ; for oftentimes also thine own heart knoweth, that thou thyself likewise hast cursed others," . may be thus, with propriety, generalized. We ought not to expect too much from others, when we are con- scious to ourselves of our own weakness, and sinful- ness : and we should especially beware of harshness, and ♦ 1 Pet. i. 14—21, Tt 330 LECTURE XIII. ECCLES. YII. 15 — 22, of severely condemning others for things of which wc ourselves are guilty. " Thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou art that judgest: for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doest the same things."* " Judge not that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge ye shall be judged ; and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, and consi- derest not the beam that (is) in thine own eye ? Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye ; and behold, a beam is in thine own eye. Thou hypocrite, cast out first the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to pull out the mote out of thy brother's eye."t * Rom, ii, 1. t Matt. v'u. 1 — 5. LECTURE XIT EccLES. vii. 23 — 29. 23 " Jli l/iis have I firoved by ivlsdom : I said, I tjUI be mse ; but it 24 (ii)as) far from me. That ivhich is far off ^ and exceeding deefi^ 25 ivho can find it out? I applied mine heart to know, and to nearch, a?id to seek out "uVisdom, and the reason C of things, J and to know -6 the ivickedncss of folly, even of foolishness (and) madness: and I find more bitter than death the ivoman whose heart (is) snares and nets, (and J her hands C^^J bands : ivhoso fileaseth God shall es- 27 cape from her ; but the sinner shall be taken by her. Behold, this have I found, \_saith the Preacher,'] C counting J one by one, to find 28 out the account ; Which yet my koul seeketh, but I find not: one man among a thousand have I found ; but a ivoman among all those 29 have I not found. Lo, this only have I found, that God hath made man upright ; but they have sought out ma7iy inventions" 1 HE wisdom which God imparted to Solomon did not consist in the supernatural infusion of knowledge, on all subjects, into his mind ; but rather in an understand- ing rendered by '^ the Father of the spirits of all flesh" unusually acute and comprehensive, capable of quick discernment, clear and accurate conception, enlarged views, and thus of extensive and multifarious acquisi- tions. And it was in the diligent exercise of his mental faculties, thus strengthened, elevated, and amplified, that he gained that extent and variety of knowledge and wisdom, for which he was so highly and justly celebrated. The serious and important lessons contained in this book, are the result of the wisdom given him, when rightly exercised, under the influence of the fear of the Lord, and the superintending direction of the Holy ^St LECTURE Xir. Spirit, by whom he was prompted to record his expe- rience.— " AU this," says he, in the first of the verses I have now read,-—" All this have I proved by wis- dom :" — I have tried all these diversified sources of happiness, and have proved the result to be such as I have stated : — I have proved the lessons I now deliver to be founded in truth, to be " good and profitable unto men." Not that it was a wise course by which he col- lected his experience : but he had now, through Divine mercy, been led to apply to that experience, the wisdom given him, and to teach to others the lessons it had taught to himself. Even to the course, indeed, which procured him his experience, he had been incited by the misdirected de- sire of wisdom, or knowledge. This was his ruling passion ; a principle, good in itself, but in its applica- tion susceptible of the most grievous perversion. — " I said, I will be wise." On this object he set his heart, and he pursued it, with unabating ardour, in every di- rection,— in all descriptions of experiment and research. — " But," he adds, "it was far from me." 1. The measure of wisdom which he was desirous to attain, in his different pursuits, was far from him. He still found, after all his investigation, that he " knew but in part ;" and the more he came to know, the more did he perceive the vast extent of what yet remained undiscovered; of subjects hid in darkness, or dimly seen in the twilight of conjecture. In the rich mine of science, he was for ever striking on some new vein y and in the very ardour and enthusiasm of discovery^ arriving at points, beyond which no mortal skill or power was able to penetrate. Thus even Solomon, with all his marvellous faculties, experienced the truth of what the poet says of knowledge, *• 'Tis but to know— Iww little can be known " ECCLES. VII. 23—^29. 333 There are limits to the powers of the mightiest minds. There are many things in the nature of the Divine Be- ing, many things in his works, and many things in his ways, that are " past finding out ;" things, of which the loftiest and most capacions understandings must be content to say, '* Such knowledge is too wonderful for me ; it is high ; 1 cannot attain unto it :" — or, as Solo- mon adds, in the following verse, " That which is far off, and exceeding deep, who can find it out ?" 2. If we consider him as speaking of the exercise of his understanding during " the days of his vanity," which is probably the case, how affecting is the repre- sentation of his pursuits ! — " I said I will be wise :" and to fulfil his resolution, he set himself to the study of all the branches of human knowledge. But all the while, wisdom, true wisdom, *' was far from him." Having departed from the " fear of God," true wisdom was nowhere else to be found : a search through the universe could not have discovered it. All would still have been unsatisfying, all folly, without this ; wisdom and true happiness alike far from him. — " Where shall wisdom be found ? and where is the place of under- standing? Man knoweih not the price thereof; neither is it found in the land of the living. The deep saith. It (is) not in me, and the sea saith, (It is) not with me. It cannot be gotten for gold, neidier shall silver be weighed (for) the price thereof. It cannot be valued with the gold of Opiiir, with the precious onyx or the sapphire. The gold and the crystal cannot equal it ; and the exchange of it (shall not be for) jewels of fine gold. No mention shall be made of pearls or of corals ; for the price of wisdom (is) above rubies. The topaz of Ethiopia shall not equal it, neither shall it be valued with pure gold. Whence, then, cometh wisdom ? and 33-fc LECTURE XIV. where (is) the place of understanding? Destruction and Death say, We have heard the fame thereof with our ears. GOD understandeth the way thereof; and He knoweth the place thereof. For he looketh to the ends of the earth, (and) seeth under the whole heaven ; to make the weight for the winds ; and he vveigheth the waters by measure. When he made a decree for the rain, and a way for the lightning of the thunder ; then did he see it and declare it ; he prepared it, yea, and searched it out. And unto man he said, Be- HOLD, THE FEAR OF THE LoRD, THAT (is) WIS- DOM; AND TO DEPART FROM EVIL (is) UNDER- STANDING."*— Having forgotten the concluding de- claration of this beautiful and sublime passage, Solomon necessarily missed, in every other quarter in which he sought it, the precious object of his desire. The words in the beginning of the 25th verse ex- press the indefiitigable ardour with which his end was pursued :— *' I applied my heart, to kno^v, and to search, and to seek out vvisdom, and the reason (of things)." The various terms employed, betw-een which it is quite unnecessary to attempt fixing the precise shades of dif- ference, are evidently accumulated, to convey strongly to the mind the impression of eager, intense, and un- wearied assiduity of application ; persevering in spite of all difficulties and discouragements. He sought to know " wisdom, and the reason (of things)." He was not satisfied with the knowledge of mere facts. He investigated principles. He tried to dis- cover causes ; both in nature and in providence ; and in the moral and physical departments of each. And in ])is study of mankind, he examined the reasons of their state, their conduct, and their prospects : and explored * Job xxviii. 12—28, ECCLES. VII. 23 — 39. 333 the various sources of their happiness and their misery. One of the subjects of his attention and inquiry, was, " the wickedness of folly, even of foolishness (and) madness;" that is, the foolishness and madness of men, who live " without God in the world," who " walk in the sight cf their eyes, and in the imagination of their heart." — In one view, this was a very proper and a highly profitable subject of investigation. We can hardly be better employed tlian in considering, and se- riously weighing, the " exceeding sinfulness" of sin ; and the more closely we examine it, in the various lights in which it ought to be contemplated, — as committed against the Sovereign of the universe, infinitely holy and infinitely good, and as tending to bring dishonour upon his blessed name, to unsettle the foundations of his eternal throne, and to spread confusion, misery, and ruin through all his dominions ; we shall find it to be unsearchable, — " exceeding deep, so that none can find it out." This is the case, as to the intrinsic evil and demerit of sin. Its malignity cannot be estimated by a fallen creature, whose judgment is perverted by its sadly prevailing power. Although not, in the strict ac- ceptation cf terms, an infinite evil, (for, since in infini- tude there are no degrees, this would equalize the guilt of all transgression,) yet, as committed against an infi- nite Being, not even a holy creature (because necessa- rily finite, though free from the bias of corruption,) can form any adequate conception of the measure of its guilt. God alone thoroughly knows it. He beholds it in its true undisguised nature ; in all the extent of its inherent deformity. He views it in the light of his own spotless purity and incomprehensible majesty ; and in all its bearings and tendencies, were it allowed its un- restrained operation, both in reference to his own glory, 336 L.ECTURE XIV. and to the happiness of creation. The estimate which he has formed of it, we learn from the declarations of his word ; and especially from the sacrifice required for its expiation,— from the deeply mysterious and awful scenes of Gethsemane and Calvary.— And as the in- trinsic evil of sin is beyond our comprehension, so is the depth of human depravity, the " fulness of evil" that is in the heart of man. " The heart (is) decehful above all (things,) and desperately wicked; who can know it? I the Lord search the hearts; (1) try the reins ; to give every man according to his ways, (and) according to the fruit of his doings."^— Thus God hides from evei^ being but himself That hideous sight, — a naked human heart." Good had it been for the king of Israel, had he con- templated " the wickedness of folly, even of foolishness and madness," to deepen his humility, to aggravate his horror of sin, to soften his pity for the wretched subjects of this moral mania, and to render him more closely vigilant and jealous of himself, from a con- sciousness of the enormous sum of hidden evil in his own heart !— There are some things, which it is much better for us not to know at all, than to learn by expe- rience. But Solomon, instead of satisfying himself with examining '* the wickedness of folly" by his observa- tion of others ; by their recorded warnings and dying regrets, by inward reflection, by the contemplation of God, by meditation on the testimony of his word ; must needs subject it to personal experiment : he must try *' foolishness and madness" as a source of enjoyment : he must join the company of fools, partake of their fol- lies, and know for himself. Infatuated prince ! He reaped the fruit of his doings. Good things abused are * Jer. 2.vli, 9, 10. ECCLES. VII. 23 — 29. 337 proverbially the worst. The wisdom bestowed on So- lomon, rightly employed, was his own happiness and honour, and the blessing of his people and of mankind. But perverted and prostituted, it led him fearfully astray. It brought him within the eddies of a perilous whirlpool, and exposed him to the hazard of eternal de- struction. His soul, indeed, was, through sovereign mercy, restored. But, oh ! the bitterness and *' vexation of spirit" which his sinful presumption cost him! The bitterest, yet the most dangerous and intoxi- cating ingredient in the cup of folly, — bitter in the end, though sweet in the enjoyment, — Solomon mentions in the twenty-sixth verse, in terms that indicate how his heart recoiled from the recollection. "And I find more bitter than death, the woman whose heart (is) snares and nets, (and) her hands (as) bands : whoso pleaseth God shall escape from her ; but the sinner shall be taken by her." In the preceding verse he speaks of his having " ap- plied his heart, to know the wickedness of folly." The particular sin to which he refers in the 26th verse, is frequently in the Scriptures termed Jblli/f and those who committed it, especially under certain circumstances, were said to have *' wrought folly in Israel." — *'l find more bitter than death," — that is, in the issue, in the worse than deadly tendency of her tempting blandish- ments,—worse than deadly, because endangering not the body merely, but the immortal soul, not the inte- rests of time merely, but of eternity, leaving nothing behind them but the bitterness of remorse, and the " fearful looking for of judgment." — "I find more bit- ter than death, the woman whose heart (is) snares and nets, (and) her hands (as) bands." This is the " strange woman," whom he so often mentions in the book of Uu 338 LECTURE XIV. Proverbs, depicting her character, describing her wayS; and warning against the perils of her company. — How strong the expression, — " whose heart (is) snares and nets !" signifying the muhitude of her devices of temp- tation, and the consummate skill, the secrecy, the ad- dress, the guile, with which she uses them, for the ac- complishment of her purposes. Her very " heart (is) snares and nets," in whose intricate and entangling meshes, the fascinated and deluded soul is taken cap- tive to its destruction. " (And) her hands (as) bands.'- Her powers of detention are equal to her powers of al- lurement. Her heart is a net, to ensnare the unwary ; her hands are as bands, to hold him fast when her wiles have proved successful. So irresistible is the power, operating like the spell of enchantment, by which she retains under her influence the hapless victim of her charms. — Delicate as the subject is, faithfulness de- mands that we speak plainly ; especially for the warning of thoughtless youth. There is no sin more sadly pre- valent ; none that has enticed more to their ruin than this. " Whoredom, and wine, and new wine, take away the heart." It was this sin, that robbed Reuben of his birthright, and wrung his father's heart with shame and anguish : — it is a foul blot in the life of Ju- dah :— it unsheathed the sword of perfidy and vengeance against the guiltless Shechemites : — it spoiled Samson of his eyes, his strength, his liberty, his life, and en- dangered the freedom of his country :— it cost David many a pang of penitential agony, many a secret groan, many a bitter tear :— and it had well nigh proved the ruin of his son and successor in the throne; whose " soul escaped, as a bird out of the snare of the fowler," narrowly escaped, and with serious damage. A hard and narrow escape, indeed, in every case it is. It is a ECCLES. yir. 23 — 29. 339 sin that has slain, and, alas ! continues to sla}'-, its thou- sands and tens of thousands. *' Whoso pleaseth God shall escape from her ; but the sinner shall be taken by her." — " Whoso pleaseth God,^^ is, in the original language, the same phrase as " the man that is good before God,'*'' in the 26th verse of the second chapter. — The expressions used here strongly intimate, that, from the greatness, the immi- nent greatness of the danger, final escape is to be con- sidered as a remarkable interposition of heaven, a signal instance of peculiar Divine regard. The man that is *' good before God," may, alas ! as mournful experi- ence has too often shown, fall before this temptation. And if, after falling, and yielding himself for a time to guilty indulgence, he is recovered to repentance and purity, he may be looked upon as rescued from ex- treme peril, — as ** a brand plucked out of the lire ;" obtaining a deliverance, which nothing but the grace of God could effect for him.—*' But the sinner," — the obstinate sinner, whose character is thoroughly vicious, who has no " good thing in him towards the Lord God of Israel," who has run on in his course of sin and profligacy, till he has been " given over to a reprobate mind," and is the guilty victim of Divine displeasure and vengeance,— ^ 15. ECCLES. VIII. 1 — 8. 367 bodily vigour gives way ; and all mental resources and devices are equally unavailing against the last enemy. Whatever may be the wishes of a man's heart, he has no ability to effect them. Opposition is vain. For the power of death is, in truth, the power of God. When we speak of Death as a person, and call him *' the King of Terrors," I need not say we use a mere figure of poetry or rhetoric. — When a physician succeeds in ar- resting the progress of a distemper, and bringing up from the gates of death the life that was hanging in sus- pense, let us beware of fancying that he counteracts any Divine intention ; he fulfils one. His success only indicates what the purpose of providence had been ; that the sickness should not be unto death. The design to add fourteen years to Hczekiah's life preceded the intimation of it, and the application of the simple means prescribed for its accomplishment. And although we have no intimation of the intentions of heaven, yet are we equally sure that the efficacy of means of recovery, in answer to prayer for the Divine blessing, only shows us what these intentions, though previously kept se- cret, had been ; does not frustrate, but accomplish them. " And (there is) no discharge in (that) war."— Every individual must grapple with the last enemy. There is no possibility, whatever may be our dread of the con- flict, of procuring a discharge, and shunning its hor- rors. No flight and no concealment can save us; nor are there any weapons of eftectual resistance. *' He counts darts as stubble, and laughs at the shaking of the spear." — And it is not here, as on the plains of Thessaly, or the mountains of Gilboa, or the fields of Waterloo, or (to the personal feelings of the speaker, more sadly interesting . than /.hem all) the heights of 368 LECTURE XV. Salamanca;* where, though hundreds and thousands fen, hundreds and thousands escaped and survived. This is a field in which every man must advance ; and every man must advance alone, to single combat ; and every man in succession must fall. The enemy to be encountered is himself invulnerable ; and whether the struggle be short or long, and however successful for a time our efforts may be to parry or to cover ourselves from his deadly thurst, he will, sooner or later, find his way, with certain aim and irresistible force, to every heart. — If we reckon the population of our world at a thousand millions, and the average of a generation at thirty years, it will follow, that ninety thousand die every day, upwards of sixty every minute, one every second of time. How solemn the thought ! How ra- pidly is the world of spirits peopling ! And, alas ! that there should be so much reason to fear, that, in past generations at least, whatever may be the case in those to come, hell has been peopled so much faster than heaven ! Whilst men of all stations are the indiscriminate vic- tims of death, so are men of all characters. To the chil- dren of God, " to live is Christ, and to die is gain." They may meet the last enemy without dismay ; as a friend, rather than an enemy, — a friend, that comes to introduce them to God. To the wicked he is emphati- cally the King of Terrors. Fondly would they stay his approach ; fondly would they shun the combat; dread- ing (as well they may) the fearful consequences. But in vain :— "Neither shall wickedness deliver them that are given to it." — The profligate, the ungodly, the worldly, ♦ In the battle of Salamanca, the author's brother fell. The reader will ex- cuse this little anachronism ; for such it will seem from the statement in the Preface, of tlie time when these Lectures were first delivered. ECCLES. VIII. i — 8. 369 might, ill the midst of their vicious, or of their busy and unthinking career, laugh at the fears of death, and set the God of heaven at scornful defiance. But " God is not mocked." Death will have his prey. All the power and all the arts of the wicked cannot withhold it. They must die, and " be driven away in their wicked- ness." They may say, in the pride and folly of their minds, " We have made a covenant with death, and with hell are we at agreement : when the overflowing scourge shall pass through, it shall not reach unto us :" — but they are only "swelling words of vanity ;" God says to them, " Your covenant with death shall be dis- annulled, and your agreement with hell shall not stand: when the overflowing scourge shall pass through, ve shall be trodden down by it."* This passage suggests the following practical re- flections. In the first place. The additional eulogy of wisdom, should operate as an additional excitement to seek it from heaven, and to cultivate it by all the means of its increase ; as at once the richest excellence, the loveliest ornament, the strongest recommendation, and the most efficient instrument of good, in any character. Let What Solomon says here impress his exhortations elsewhere: — " Get wisdom, get understanding ; forget (it) not : neither decline from the words of my mouth. Forsake her not, and she shall preserve thee ; love her, and she shall keep thee. Wisdom (is) the principal thing ; (therefore) get wisdom, and with all thy getting get understanding. Exalt her, and she shall promote thee ; she shall bring thee to honour when thou dost embrace her. She shall give to thy head an ornament of gold ; a crown of glory shall she deliver to thee. Take fast hold * Isa. xxviii. 14 — 18. 3 A ^70 LECTURE XV. of instruction; let (her) not go: keep her; for she (is) thy life."* Secondly. Let us manifest the influence of religious principle, in becoming subjection to the government of our country ; from considerations both of duty and of discretion. We should feel it encumbent upon us, " to *' shun all exasperating language ; to repress all railing *' and indecent accusations against those who have the " management of public aflPairs ; to engage in no viru- *' lent opposition, or hasty measures ; to continue in " our place and station ; not to enter upon, much less to ''persist in, any turbulent attempts; nor needlessly to "expose ourselves to the jealousy and resentment of " Government. "t — Not that we must approve, in our judgment, of every public measure ; or that we are never to join in temperate and constitutional means of procuring the correction of abuses, and the rescinding^ of injurious decisions, the alteration of what is wrong, or the improvement of what is right. But in all, we should be prudent and temperate ; influenced by sober principle and genuine patriotic regard to our country, not by presumptuous self-conceit, or revolutionary phrenzy.— And surely I may be permitted to say, that never was there a period in the history of Europe, when the duty was more imperious, of being cautious, and difliident, and tender, in our censures of public men, and public measures, than it is in the present day. Events have been so strange,— they have, in innumera- ble instances, so completely contradicted all the ordi- nary calculations of probability ; that, without a super- human gift of foresight, no man could have at- all anti- cipated, or provided against them. Never was there a season to which the language of the seventh verse was * Pi'ov. iv. J— 9, 13. t ScoU'.s Commentary, ECCLES. TTIT. 1 8. 371 more applicable,—" he knovveth not that which shall be; and who can tell him when it shall be?" — never a pe- riod at which a wise man could find it more difficult, in devising public measures, to ^^ discern time and judgment;" or when it was more unsafe and unfair, to judge of such measures by their success or their failure. The constant wakeful vigilance of a free people over the plans and proceedings of their rulers, is of inesti- mable benefit. But at such a time as this, few things can be more offensive to every Christian feeling, than to hear men persist in talking, with indiscriminate se- verity of censure, of the folly and impolicy of all the measures of the administration, it displays so intolera- ble a share of arrogant self-confidence, coupled with a deficiency so lamentable of charity and candour.* Thirdly. Let us all recollect, and keep it in constant remembrance, that there is one King, in whose hands, and in whose hands alone, unlimited power is safe ; whose word is law ; and in obeying whose authority we can never err. His commands are all right ; and they are alL beyond dispute. To his authority let us yield a willing and unreserved subjection : for " his law is perfect; his statutes are right ; his commandment is pure; his judgments are true and righteous altogether." — If such be the imprudence, such the hazard, of ob» stinate disobedience to an earthly monarch; how immi- nent, think you, must be the peril, how extreme the folly, of the man, who scorns the rebukes of his Maker, and hardens himself against God ? Who hath ever done so, and hath prospered ? The words of admonition, *' Stand not in an evil thing ; for he doeth whatsoever ♦ These observations were originally delivered in February, 1811. They are retained without alteration, because, in the spirit of them, they are applicable to all times, and especially to all seasons of public difficulty and embarrass- ment, arising frona the perplexing darkness of providential arrangement;. 37S LECTURE XV. pleaseth him : where the word of a king (is, there is) power; and who may say unto him, What doest thou ?" — may here be applied with unlimited emphasis. Yes : where the word of this king is, there is power; al- mighty, irresistible power ; power, which no created arm can defy with impunity. — Whilst you carefully en- deavour to order your temporal affairs with that discre- tion which may insure success and prosperity ; O with what miserable imprudence do you conduct yourselves, whilst you live in forgetfulness of God, and in thought- less disregard of death, and judgment, and eternity ! No imprudence can be equal to this. " A wise man's heart discerneth both time and judgment." Is it then consistent with the character of a wise man ; — does it accord with the dictates of that prudence, which you wish to apply to the regulation of all your concerns ; that, although you know " the time to be short" ^nd proverbially uncertain, and eternal consequences to be depending on every moment that passes over you, you should live unprepared for eternity ? Is it prudent in 3'ou, conscious as you must be of guilt, to run the risk of encountering the displeasure of an offended God, and to pay no attention to the nature and the vouchers of what comes to you in the form and with the claims of a proposal from him ? Be persuaded to think, and to think NOW. Be wise to-day : to-morrow is not yours. Fourthly. Let these admonitions be enforced, by the absolute and infiillible certainty of your coming to death. Had you "power over the spirit to retain the spirit," or could you procure a ^^ discharge" from the conflict with the last enemy ; — could you prolong your life at pleasure, and secure to yourselves immortality on earth; then might you, with some pretensions to reason, dis- regard our serious warnings, and take your own way. ECCLES. VIII. 1 — 8. 373 But well you know, it is far otherwise. The hour of your departure is to you, as it is to all, a secret : " Who can tell you when it shall be ?" But it is fixed ; — fixed in the purpose of Him " without whom a sparrow falleth not to the ground." It is fixed ;— and, for aught you can tell, it may be very near. You may not be destined to see the shining of to-morrow's sun; and, if you should, to-morrow will still be as uncertain as to-day. Many of those who are dying to-day had as little thought of it yesterday, as those who are living to-day have of dying to-morrow. The " King of terrors" you must meet, — you must encounter : and it is a conflict in which "the help of man is vain ;" in which fellow- creatures can do you no service. And, will you, then, engage this enemy alone ? Will you enter the lists with him single-handed ? Will you meet him without the armour of God ? — without the shield of faith, and the helmet of hope ? without the breastplate of righteous- ness, and the sword of the Spirit ? Will you venture into the dark valley, without the Lord with you, — with- out his rod and his staff to comfort you ? Will you be your own light, — your own strength,— your own salva- tion ? O blind self-sufficiency ! O thoughtless and in- fatuated presumption ! You give this a wrong name when you call it courage. It is insensibility ; — the in- sensibility of ignorance. — Look unto Jesus. He has " abolished death, and brought life and incorruption to light, by the gospel." *' Through death, he has de- stroyed him that had the power of death, that is, the de- vil ; and delivered them who, through fear of death, were all their lifetime subject to bondage." Believing in him, building your hopes on him, living to him, you will be safe j and no otherwise. You may then anticipate death with a measure of his feelings who said, "To me to 374f LECTURE XV. ECCLES. Till. 1 8. live is Christ ; and to die is gain. I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better." And at the solemn hour when you must bid a final adieu to the world, when to you " time shall be no longer," you may say, in hum- ble, yet triumphant, confidence, " O death ! where (is) thy sting? O grave ! where (is) thy victory ? The sting of death (is) sin ; and the strength of sin (is) the law : but thanks (be) unto God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." LECTURE XVI. EccLES. viii. 9 — 17. y " Ml thin have I seen, aJid applied mij keart unto every work that is done tinder the sun : ("there is J a time wherein one man ruleth over 10 another to his own hurt. And so I saw the wicked buried, who had come and gone from the place of the holy, and they were forgotten 11 in the city where they had so dene. This (is) also vanity. Because sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the 12 heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil. Though a sinner do evil an hundred times, and his ("days J be prolo7iged, yet surely I know that it shall be well with them that fear God, who 13 fear before him : But it shall not be well with the wicked, neither shall he prolong fhisj days, (which are J as a shadow ; because he 14 fcarcth not before God. There is a vanity which is done upon the earth ; that there be just fmen,J unto whom it happencth according to the work of the wicked : again, there be wicked ('?nen,J to whom it hafipeneth according to the work of the righteous. I said, that this 15 also fisj vanity. Then I commended mirth, because a man hath no better thing under the sun, than to eat, and to drink, and to be merry ; for that shall abide with him of his labour the days of his 16 life, which God giveth him tinder the sun. When I applied 7nine heart to know wisdom, and to see the business that is done upon the earth : \^for also f there is that J neither day nor night secth sleep \7 with his eyes:'] Then I beheld all the wsrk of God, that a man can- not find out the work that is done tinder the sun : because though a man labour to seek fit J out, yet he shall not find (it ;) yea,furlhery though a wise fman) think to know fit, J yet shall he not be able /■> fnd OO" Apart from Divine testimony, observation and ex- perience are the surest grounds of accurate knowledi^e. In the book of Ecciesiastes, we have not the thouglits and opinions of a man, who, with Httlc or no attention to facts, sits down in his closet, to commit to writing-, the speculations, conjectures, and theories of an inven- tive and ingenious mind. We have the results of a per- 376 LECTURE XVI. sonal survey : of a close and acute inspection of men and things ; confirmed, in many instances, by actual trial, and recorded under the superintendence of the Spirit of truth. The book, therefore, possesses a pecu- liar interest, as combining, in the lessons which it teaches, the evidence of human experiment with the sanction of Divine authority. " All this have I seen^''' says Solomon, in the first of these verses, " and applied my heart unto every work that is done under the sun :— that is, to the attentive observation, and diligent scrutiny, both of the proce- dure of providence towards this world, and of the con- duct of mankind in the various conditions of life. — And in the course of his survey, there was one thing which he had not unfrequently remarked,— that superiority to others, the possession and exercise of authority, was coveted by many, widiout due consideration of its ten- dencies ; that unless the power be well and wisely used, it had better, even for the sake of its possessor, be wanted: " (There is) a time wherein one man ruleth over another to his own hurt." Had not Solomon himself experienced the truth of this ? His royal honour was at once his temptation to sin, and his opportunity ; and in sinning himself, he led his subjects astray along with him. This turned out " to his own hurt," as well as to the hurt of his people ; for it was in consequence of this perversion of his au- thority by which he " made Israel to sin," that the Lord stirred up against him various adversaries, to ha- rass him, and to disturb the peace of his reign, and forewarned him of the rending away of ten of the tribes of Israel from the dominions of his son. — Besides, as Solomon when forsaking Jehovah, following the world, and " going after strange gods," could not be satisfied ECCLES. VIII. 9 — 17. 377 with himself; and as a conscience that is ill at ease, a self-upbraiding spirit, usually produces a very unhappy effect upon the temper, rendering a man, in his con- duct towards others, hasty, passionate, sullen, and ca- pricious ; it is not improbable that some ground had been given by him, during the time especially of his defection from the service of God, for the complaints afterwards made by his subjects to his son and succes- sor respecting the grievousness of his yoke, when they presented their unsuccessful petition for its mitigation, and for a gentler system of rule. The influence of a disquieted conscience in producing angry and capricious rigour, is exemplified in the case of Asa : who, when reproved by Hanani the seer, for his folly and distrust of Jehovah, and threatened, as his punishment, with wars for the remainder of his reign, *' was wroth with the seer, and put him in the prison house: and Asa," it is added in the history, " oppressed (some) of the people the same time." He wreaked his unreasonable anger against this prophet, and his secret rankling dissatisfaction with himself, in acts of passion- ate severity towards his subjects. Some of Solomon's successors in the throne of Ju- dah, and many, alas ! of the kings of Israel, might be produced as exemplifications of the truth here stated ; and not a few might be added from the general history of both ancient and modern nations. — Often have un- principled and oppressive tyrants brought upon them- selves the vengeance of their subjects, and come to an untimely end. They have " ruled over others to their own hurt;" their power having prospered for a time, but ultimately involved them in insurrection and ruin. And even if they should escape the indignant fury of the oppressed, still the abuse of power is to their hurt .; 3B 378 LECTURE XVI. for " be that is higher than the highest regardeth," and they " treasure up to themselves wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous judgments of God." It is, primarily at least, to such characters, that the tenth verse refers : — " And so I saw the wicked buried, who had come and gone from the place of the holy ; and they were forgotten in the city where they had so done. This (is) also vanity." By " the place of the holy" some understand the seat of judgment, which in chap. iii. 16. had been denomi- nated " the place of righteousness." It is the place which ought to be occupied by the holy, and not by the wicked, and over which the Most Holy may be considered as presiding, with peculiar jealousy of its purity, and displeasure at its corruption. And by the wicked being buried who had occupied this honourable seat, they conceive to be meant, his being buried with all the splendour of funeral pomp, with all the ceremo- nial of lamentation and wo : — whilst their being " for- gotten in the city" is thought to refer to the change produced in the public mind by death ;— to that kind of good-natured disposition which leads men to say no ill of the dead, — to deal gently with their faults, — to palliate and even to banish from their remembrance the very enormities for which they cursed them during their lives; and to honour in death those who disgraced them- selves in life. But this view is neither natural in itself, nor suitable to the connection. — Solomon had said, in the eighth verse, that *' wickedness could not deliver those that were given to it," from the stroke of death :— nay, at times, as he adds in the ninth verse, a man's wicked- ness, especially in the abuse of power, might prove the EccLES. viir. 9 — 17. 379 means of hurt and ruin to himself. It is the same sen. timent that he continues to illustrate in verse 10. — " I saw the wicked, who had come and gone from the place of the holy," — who had attended the sanctuary, joined in the worship of God, and cloaked their unrighteous- ness and oppression under the garb of external piety, — who had "come and gone," continuing their hypocri- tical career in safety, no marks of Divine vengeance visiting them for their awful profanation and odious dis- sembling;— I saw the wicked, who had lately flourished in their wickedness, who, in the possession of great power, had "prospered in bringing evil devices to pass," — I saw them buried, — the victims of mortality equally with others ; unable any more than the meanest and the weakest of their oppressed subjects ^^to retain the spirit," and having no power more than they in the day of death : — I saw them <^«r/W,— carried, in affect- ing humiliation and impotence, to " the house ap- pointed for ail living." — And this was not only the " land of forgetfulness," as to any knowledge on their part of what was passing amongst men ; but the " land of forgetfulness," as to the remembrance of them by their survivors on earth :—" They were forgotten in the city where they had so done." They had sought after, and expected, perpetual fame : but men had no plea- sure in remembering them ; when out of sight, they were out of mind ; their name and memory rotted with their carcases in the dust. — The sentiment is similar to that expressed by the Psalmist : — " I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a green bay tree: yet he passed away, and lo! he (waal not; yea I sought him, but he could not be found."*^ I have considered the expression, *' who had come * Psal. xxxvji. Z5, 36. 380 LECTURE XVI. and gone from the place of the holy," as implying the continuance of the course described, without interrup- tion by any interposition of heaven, or indication of Divine displeasure. The forbearance of God, and the abuse of it by men for their encouragement in sin, are accordingly introduced with more particular emphasis, in the eleventh verse : " Because sentence against an evil work is not exe- cuted speedily, the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil." — A matter of fact is stated in these words, with its sad and fatal influence on the minds and characters of ungodly and inconsiderate men. " Sen- tence against an evil work is not executed speedily." Particular sins are not, in the Divine administration, visited with instant punishment. Nay? even the man who lives in sin, in the daily and hourly defiance of every restraint, and the fearless violation of every pre- cept of heaven, is allowed to pursue his course without the immediate arrest of judicial vengeance. The lips of the blasphemer are not sealed in death the moment he has uttered his blasphemy : he lives to repeat it a thousand and a thousand times. Week after, week is the sabbath-breaker spared, to profane in succession the days of God. The arm of justice is not instantly put forth upon the murderer, while the life-blood is warm on his guilty hands, to hurry him away to the judgment- seat of God. The secrets of impurity are not immedi- ately brought out to light, detected, exposed, and pu- nished, by Him, from whose eye " no darkness or sha- dow of death can hide the workers of iniquity." The haughty tyrant, the persecuting oppressor, is not always, in the flush of his impious arrogance, smitten by the an- gel of the Lord, because he gives not God the glory.* * See Acts xii. 20—23. ECCLES. VIII. 9 17. 381 The " unprofitable servant,"— the useless cumberer of the ground, is not cut down in his first barren season, but spared through many a year of fruiilessness and- vain expectation. Sinners of every name, and of every degree, continue to live, and continue to prosper. Such being the order of the divine administration, such the forbearance and long-suffering of God, the cor- rupt and infatuated children of men, bent on the indul- gence of their sinful lusts and passions, "encourage themselves in an evil way ;" they strengthen themselves in wickedness ; hand joins in hand, in the combinations of iniquity; "their heart is fully set in them to do evil." Future and unseen things make a much less lively impression on the mind than things that are present and seen. This world meets the senses in ten thousand forms of temptation, whilst the world to come is far off and invisible. The pleasures of sin are immediate, af- fording present gratification : its future consequences are distant and unfelt.— That too which men, from whatever principle, wish to be true, they are naturally prone to believe ; the judgment being the dupe of the heart, and the heart ^^ deceitful above all things." They are fond of thinking that sin will not expose them to such irremediable vengeance as the Bible .threatens. They are willing to be persuaded of this ; and they flat- ter themselves into the persuasion, by the wiles of a thousand sophistries. — At first, it may be, they commit sin with a timid heart and a trembling hand. They he- sitate long. But at length, though with irresolute tre- mor, it is done. No harm comes to them. No indica- tions of the anger of Heaven follow the deed. They feel themselves safe. And, having tasted of the sin, it is sweet; and they desire it again. It is done again ; LECTURE XVI. Still with scruple and shrinking, but with less than before. The third time, their apprehensions are still weaker; and they learn, with less and less remorse, to " walk in the counsel of the ungodly, to stand in the way of sinners, and to sit in the seat of the scornful." Finding, that they are not struck dead on the spot,— that " sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily," they begin to suspe^ct whether God be ac- tually privy to their words and deeds ; to say in their hearts to themselves, and with flattering lips to one an- other, *' God hath forgotten ; he hideth his face, he will never see it." They doubt of providence ; or they flat- ter themselves that surely the Supreme Ruler, if he exists at all, and takes any notice of the aff'rtirs of men, cannot be such an enemy to sin as he has been repre- sented ; that he will be very merciful and lenient to the frailties of his erring creatures; for how, say they, are we to know what he. means to do in future, if not by what he docs now ? He will not be strict to mark ini- quity ; he is good; and goodness shall at last carry the day. Thus they gradually cast oft' restraint, contemn God, and say, " He will not require it.'* — This is a feari'ul process ; but there is reason to apprehend, it is not a very uncommon one. Wicked men are, in refer- ence to a judgment to come, like Pharaoh of old, who persisted in hardening his heart against God, always " when he saw that there was respite." Such is the way in which the suspension of the sen- tence of God against sin, — the delay of punishment, affects the corrupt hearts of " the sons of men," Instead of " the goodness of God leading them to repentence," they take advantage of it ; they " despise the riches of his goodness, and forbearance, and long-suffering, and after their hardness and impenitent heart, treasure u,p ECCLES. VIII. 9 17. 383 unto themselves wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous judgment of God." But it is an awful delusion:— verses 12,13. "Though a sinner do evil a hundred times, and his (days) be prolonged, yet surely 1 know that it shall be well with them that fear God, who fear before him : but it shall not be well with the wicked, neither shall he prolong (his) days, (which are) as a shadow ; because he feareth not before God." *' Though a sinner do evil a hundred times," that is, ever so many times ; " and his (days) be prolonged," — no deadly vengeance lighting on his trespasses ; — though from present impunity, he become unceasingly bold in sin, going on from bad to worse, till, at the hundreth time, his conscience becomes "seared as with a hot iron :" — yet still there is a distinction between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God, and him that serveth him not. " Surely I know," — it was a matter of firm and indubitable certainty with Solomon, and so should it be \vith us ; one of those fundamental truths, one of those moral axioms, of which nothing should be allowed to shake our confident as- surance :— " It shall be well with them that fear God." The fear of God is here, as it is very generally in the Scriptures, put for the whole of true religion, both in its inward principles, and its outward practice,— both in the heart, and in the life. ^' It shall be wejl with them," during life ; the favour and the blessing of God attending them amidst all its changes, soothing their sorrows, and heightening the relish of their joys, and making " all things to work together for their good." " It shall be well with them,^' in death:— ^^ Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright ; for the latter end of that man is peace ;"— ." The righteous hath hope in S84i LECTURE XVI. his death:" '^good hope," resting on a sure founda- tion, securing his mind against the agitations of fore- boding fear, andenabhug him to say, " O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave, where is thy victory?" ^' It shall be well with them," in the judgnient : for they shall stand with acceptance before the throne of God ; they shall hear his voice address them in blessing, and shall instantly feel the sentence fulfilled in the com- mencement of unmingled and n'ever-ending felicity. — "But it shall not be well with the wicked," — either while he lives, or when he dies, or when he stands be- fore the tribunal of God. Not while he lives ; for even when he prospers, it is ill with him : the curse of Hea- ven is upon his tabernacle, and it secretly mingles itself with all his enjoyments. He is " cursed in the city, and cursed in the field ; cursed in his basket and store ; cursed in the fruit of his body, and the fruit of his land, in the increase of his kine, and the flocks of his sheep ; cursed when he cometh in, and cursed when he goeth out." — Not when he dies: — for he has then nothing before him but " a fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries :" He shall be " driven away in his wickedness " quit- ting in horror a world that has cheated and damned his soul : or if he should " have no bands in his death," the more overwhelming will be the wretchedness of his disappointment, when he plunges into unanticipated wo. — Not when he appears before the judgment seat,— for '^ the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous ; because the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous, but the way of the ungodly shall perish." *' Neither shall he prolong his days, which are as a shadow." The meaning is not, that he shall not live ECCLES. VIII. 9 — 17. 385 long. Many an ungodly man reaches and passes^the limit of *' threescore years and ten." But his time of departure must come. It may be earlier or later. He may "do evil a hundred times and his days be pro- longed." But it cannot be always so. His days are still "as a shadow;" they pass successively away, and the last of them must quickly arrive. And when it does ar- rive, every wish for prolonged life will be vain. He will not be able to command the addition of a single day, any more than to arrest " the shadow's fleeting form," Even when he is most anxious to live, the time may come for him to die:— when he anticipates most joy- ously a lengthened journey, he may reach the "bound which he cannot pass:" — when his heart is beating highest with worldly expectation, its last pulse may be near at hand. And then " wickedness shall not deliver him that is given to it." He "shall not prolong his days." The shadow must pass. " His breath goeth forth ; he returneth to his dust : in that very day, his thoughts perish." Although, however, there is a distinction, of which the Lord and Judge of all never loses sight, between the righteous and the wicked ; yet, in the administra- tion of Divine providence, character is not the measure for the distribution of temporal good. This is the sen- timent expressed in the fourteenth verse : — " There is a vanity which is done upon the earth ; that there be just (men) to whom it happeneth according to the work of the wicked ; again, there be wicked (men) to whom it happeneth according to the work of the righteous. I said, this also (is) vanity." — The investigation of this mystery in the providence of God, (for it is of provi- dence that Solomon evidently speaks,) we shall defer till our next lecture ; the sentiment which is expressed 3C 386 LECTURE XTI. in the verse now before us being enlarged upon in the be'^inning of the following chapter. — The matter of fact, I only observe at present, is now, as it was then, mani- fest to every observer. And well might it be denomi- nated, in relation to the great design of this treatise, *' a vanity." Nothing could more strikingly show the vanity of the world, and the folly of excessive attach- ment to its pleasures, or confidence in its possessions. For can any thing be more irrational, than to fix the heart on what it is impossible for us to secure, by any means, or by any course of conduct ; what is uncertain to the good as well as to the bad, and is neither exclu- sively connected, in the purpose and procedure of God^ with righteousness nor with wickedness ; what is neither retained by the one, nor forfeited by the other ; what is neither a mark of Divine satisfaction, nor of Divine displeasure ; what may be given with a frown and taken away .with a smile; what the possession of may be a curse, and the loss of may be a blessing. — The very arrangement itself, besides, when viewed without rela- tion to a future world, bears the aspect of vanity. It seems strange, unreasonable, unaccountable ; like the result of a vain and unsettled caprice, rather than of a wise and well-directed principle. Verse 15. "Then I commended mirth, because a man hath no better thing under the sun, than to eat, and to drink, and to be merry; for that shall abide with him of his labour the days of his life, which God giveth him under the sun." This may be understood in two ways, according to the tbne at which we suppose the commendation of mirth to have been uttered. — First, we might consider it as the libertine conclusion, drawn by Solomon, from the state of things here described? in the \[ days of ECCLEs. Tin. 9 — 17. 387 his vanity :"— as if he had said, — " Seeing these things are so, let us indulge ourselves. What better can we do, than to enjoy the world while it is in our power? Let us eat, and drink, and be merry ; for the pleasure which a man has actually enjoyed is that alone which he can say with certainty is his own ; that alone which he is sure shall abide with him of his labour ; that alone of which he cannot be bereaved or disappointed." — Or, secondly, we might interpret it as his serious in« ference, in the days of his returning wisdom, respect- ing the use which a man should make of worldly good, while God is pleased to bless him with the possession of it. In this case, " mirth" must be understood, not of licentious jollity, but of the cheerful enjoyment of the bounties of Heaven , and "eating and drinking," of the happy and unsolicitous use of that portion of the world's good which Divine kindness has bestowed. The measure of a man's earthly prosperity, and of the success of his labour, is a matter of complete uncer- tainty : but a cheerful and contented spirit, disposed to enjoy whatever portion is sent, is a sure and constant blessing. "The secret of happiness, as far as it depends on the things of time, is to enjoy prosperity cheerfully, and without the irksome and depressing apprehensions of an anxious mind, as long as it continues ; and if it is lessened or withdrawn, still to receive our diminished and stinted supplies with the same cheerful and buoy- ant gratitude ; — thus making the best of that, which, both in its degree and its continuance, is so prover- bially uncertain. — Amidst all changes, this happy frame of spirit may be preserved. It is a "joy" with which •' a stranger cannot intermeddle." "A merry heart doeth good like a medicine." *^ He that is of a merry heart, hath a continual feast." 388 LECTURE XVI. In this view of the verse, it contains much the same sentiment as on different occasions has been already before us.* He does not mean, that the unrestrained enjoyment of temporal pleasures is the chief good. The whole tenor of his treatise belies such a supposition. Neither does he mean, — that even in the enjoyment of the things of this world, we are to be selfish, and to consult exclusively our own immediate gratification. This is not less inconsistent with the general spirit, and the express declarations of the book. His language is neither that of libertinism, nor of selfishness. It is the language of experienced discretion j of piety and prac- tical wisdom ; — recommending contented cheerfulness, — the thankful reception, and the free, unanxious, and lively enjo) ment, of whatever portion of earthly things the providence of God may be pleased to bestow ; as the only way of extracting from them such happiness as they are fitted to yield : the only way of at all re- deeming them from the charge of utter " vanity and vexation of spirit." Verses 16, 17. '* When I applied my heart to know wisdom, and to see the business that is done upon the earth ; [for also (there is that) neither day nor night seeth sleep with his eyes :] then I beheld all the work of God, that a man cannot find out the work that is done under the sun ; because though a man labour to seek (it) out, yet shall he not find (it;) yea, further, though a wise (man) seek to know (it,) yet shall he not be able to find it." These verses express the difficulties which Solomon experienced, the inextricable perplexities in which he found himself involved, in one department especially of his researches after knowledge ; in observing the ♦ Chap. il. 23. iii, 12, 13. v. 18. ECCLES. Tin. 9 — 17. 389 labours of men, in connection with the providence of God. — In the sixteenth verse, " the business done un- der the sun" refers to the toil and travail of mankind, in all its endless varieties. In contemplating these, he observed the mystery of providence. He saw that suc- cess was far from being uniformly proportioned to the measure of human diligence, solicitude, and skill. He saw many, "rising early, and sitting late, and eating the bread of carefulness ;" " neither day nor night seeing sleep with their eyes," though plodding eagerness for the acquisition of property, or anxious fears about its safety. And yet their days of toil, and nights of sleep- lessness were vain; success and security depending upon God : for " except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it ; except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh in vain." — And then, the procedure of God, in reference to the works and ways of men, was " a great deep ;" full of mystery ; to the eye of the human observer, appearing to be regulated by no fixed principles ; no labour, no discretion, no character, affording any assurance of prosperity ; but circumstances over which the sagacity of man could have no control, in innumerable instances, and at times in a manner the most marvellous and confounding, crossing the path, arresting the progress, and frustrat- ing the purposes and hopes, of those who bade fairest for success; and giving that success to others, to whom no one supposed it possible, and who hardly, even in self-flattery, expected it themselves. All was wonder and perplexity, — beyond the penetration of the most profound observer, though applying to the subject the closest and most unwearied attention. '"^ Though a man labour to seek (it) out, yet he shall not find (it ;) yea, further, though a wise (man) think to know (it,) yet 390 LECTURE XVI. shall he not be able to find (it)." To every view he can take of " the work of God," — to every hypothesis he can frame with regard to the principle of his providen- tial government, difficulties present themselves, and exceptions and anomalies, which he cannot explain. The hypothesis that accounts satisfactorily for one event, seems to be contradicted by another ; circum- stances which to him appear to be similar, and to war- rant similar expectations, terminating, not unfrequently, in opposite results ; and on the contrary, trains of events, and courses of conduct the most unlike each other, some- times conducting to the same issues ; to riches, or to poverty, — to honour, or to shame. — That it is to the mystery of providence, in its superintendence over the affairs of men, over " all the business that is done under the sun," that Solomon refers, will be very evident when we come to show, in next lecture, the connec- tion between the end of this chapter and the begin- ning of the ninth ; and the manner in which he there exemplifies and illustrates the sentiment he had here expressed. In the mean time, observe, in thejirst place^ from the verses that have now been expounded : — There are instances, in which the possession of power, authority, and dominion, dazzling as it may be to the imagination, is yet more to ht pitied than envied. — It is so, surely, when a man " rules over others to his own hurt :" and every man thus rules, who perverts and abuses his power to the purposes of oppression and selfishness. The splendour of such power can be admired by fools alone. It is the splendour of a consuming fire, at which children may laugh and clap their hands with delight, reckless of the mischief it is spreading around, but which more thoughtful spectators will contemplate with ECCLES. VIII. 9 — 17. 391 grief and horror. The fire will at length devour hitn who has kindled it, and who exulted in its devastations. Perverted povver will come back, with fearful recoil, upon its unprincipled perverter. Whatever may be its present effects to the cruel oppressor, or the vain-glori- ous ruler, it must, in the end, be " to his own hurt," when " the King of kings and Lord of lords," the Sove- reign Judge of all, shall call him to his reckoning. — This shall be found especially true of the persecuting powers of this world, who have directed their violence against the church of God, and by sanguinary edicts, by bonds and imprisonments, by swords, and racks, and flames, have sought its extermination. The perse- cuted have been the compassionated party. They still are, when their sufFcfings are read in history. Yet the persecutors are infinitely more to be pitied than they. From the beginning until now, the voice of the blood which they have shed has *' cried against them from the ground," and has " entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth." The retributive justice of God has many a time, even in this world, given them blood to drink ; in the cup which they have filled, filling to them dou- ble: and " true and righteous have been his judgments." And, oh ! should they escape his vengeance here, what an account have they to give to Him who hath said of his people, the objects of his love, " He that toucheth you, toucheth the apple of his eye!"* The victims of their fury they have " chased up to heaven ;" whilst for themselves, it will be found, they have been preparing a place in hell. Envy not, then, such povver. Prefer being its victim to being its possessor. Be burned at the stake, rather than kindle it. " The memory of the just is blessed, but the name of the wicked shall rot." * Zcch. ii. 8. 39S LECTURE XVI. And how unenviable is the man, who on earth is exe- crated while remembered, and as soon as possible is forgotten, and whose crimes are registered in heaven, and kept from oblivion, there, to cover* him in the end with " shame and everlasting contempt ?" Secondly .-—We have been considering the delay of punishment, the patience and forbearance of God ; and we have illustrated a little the effect of this on human depravity, — the use that men actually make of it, as an encouragement to boldness in sin. Let mc press a little upon your attention its proper and legitimate effect,: — the use that men ought to make of it. ' Instead of lulling in security, it ought to alarm ;— instead of emboldening to sin, it should melt to peni- tential sorrow. In the first place :— instead of lulling in security, it ought to alarm. — To make good this observation, I shall endeavour to show you, that the Divine forbearance and long-suffering, so far from being a proof that God thinks lightly of sin, affords convincing and impressive evi- dence of the con,trary. 1.— First of all, we should recollect that by the pa- tience of God there is no alteration produced in the na- ture of sin. There is in sin itself an intrinsic malignity that remains immutably the same. There is in it a con- trariety to the holiness, an opposition to the authority, an ingratitude for the unparalleled kindness, and an affront to the sacred majesty, of the infinite God, — as well as a universal wrong done by it to creation, whose happiness it tends to destroy,— that must render it, in all its kinds and in all its degrees, in all places and at all times, hateful in his sight. It is in the nature of things impossible, that He should ever look upon it with in- difTerence. This should be a settled conviction in all ECGLES. VIII. 9 17. 393 our minds, and every thing that may seem opposed to it, we should rest perfectly assured, has nothing of in- consistency but the appearance. 2. — It does not at all follow that the provocation of Deity is small, because he does not m^tantly express it in action. His anger is not like that of his creatures. Men, when provoked by any injury done to them, are ready to kindle immediately into a transport of passion, and to indulge their resentment in word and in deed. But God is infinitely above being affected in this man- ner. He punishes sin, not from passion at the harm he sustains ;— (for " if thou sinnest, what doest thou against him ? or if thy transgressions be multiplied, what doest thou unto him ?") — but because it is right and neces- sary that sin should be punished. With a composure undisturbed by the swellings and out-breakings of hu- man pride and impiety, unmoved by the scornful taunts, and bitter blasphemies, and daring outrages of the un- godly, he fixes his own time for " bringing it into judg- ment." That time may be distant. But O beware of fancying, because the execution of his anger is not im- mediate, the anger itself cannot be severe : for 3. — It is an evidence that it is severe, and that the expression of it at last will be the more aggravated. — What think you, is the rec/ reason why God suspends the execution of his sentence, and " bears long" with the condemned offender ? Hear Himself, in answer to the question :— " Say unto them. As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wick- ed, but rather that the wicked turn unto me, and live : turn ye, turn ye ; for why will ye die, O house of Israel ?" — Now, why this solemnity of asseveration !^— why this tenderness of persuasion ? — why this energy of expos- tulation and entreaty ?— why does he lift up his hand 3 D ;J94! LECTURE XVI. to heaven, and add his oath to his word ? Surely the death that the sinner must die can be no light or trivial evil, when the God of mercy and truth is thus in ear- nest in warning him against it. Wtiy does He spare his offending creatures from day to day ? Is it that he has pleasure in sin, or complacency in sinners ? No. The reason is, that he knows the full measure of the sinfulness of sin, and knows the fearful nature of its eternal consequences. He waits to be gracious. He warns, he threatens, he entreats, by his word, and by his providence ; and his warnings, and threatenings, and entreaties, are all of them the utterance of mercy. Like a parent, when he has denounced a severe but deserved punishment ; a punishment that must be executed, if there is not repentance, humiliation, and confession :— in proportion to its severity, he lingers to inflict it; he tries every method he can think of, to gain his end without proceeding to extremities, — for " his bowels yearn over his son." If we saw a parent thus delaying the stroke ; exhausting all the arts of authority and love ; his heart wrung with anguish, and still failing him when the mo- ment of infliction approaches ; — we should conclude, that the punishment thus suspended must be a heavy one. The same is the inference which men should draw from the long-suffering of God. 4, — Delay amongst men may lessen certainty, leav- ing room for escape, and for the loss of opportunity and ability to effect their threatenings.— But it cannot be so with God. We have seen how strongly this is afliirmed in the verses we have been expounding. *' Though the sinner do evil a hundred times, and his days be prolonged,— yet surely it shall not be well with him." " His judgment lingereth not ; his damnation slumbereth not." " One day is with the Lord as a thou- ECCLES. VIIT. 9 17. 395 sand years, and a thousand years as one day." And when sinners flcitter themselves with their own delusions, and " say in their hearts, God will not require it," their destruction, from being thus unanticipated, will only come upon them with the more overwhelming violence: — '* When they shall say, peace and safety, then sud- den destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child, and they shall not escape." 5. — In the very perversion and abuse itself of Divine forbearance, there is a fearful aggravation of criminality, which will be added to the guilt of every sin to which it has afforded encouragement, and will form a heavy addition to the general grounds of condemnation. Mark how the inspired apostle speaks of it. The disregard of God's goodness and long-suffering, is, according to him, nothing less, than a " treasuring up of wrath, against the day of wrath, and revelation of the righ- teous judgment of God."* Let the patience of God, then, alarm you, " ye care- less ones," instead of flattering and deceiving you. *' Set not your hearts in you to do evil ;" but rather *' cease to do evil, and learn to do well." I noticed, as a second legitimate effect of the suspen- sion of vengeance, that it ought to melt you to peniten- tial sorrow. — An act of unexpected clemency has some- times, in human experience, had the effect of softening a heart, which all the terrors of judicial severity had been unable to move. — Let sinners, then, consider the following things : — 1. — ^God has no personal interest to serve, in sparing you. — A judge amongst men, after he has pronounced the sentence, may be afraid to inflict the punishment. The prisoner may be in circumstances that render it * Kom. li. 5. 398 LECTURE XVI. hazardous : or the judge may expect some advantage to himself from his lenity. But with God there can be neither the fear of evil, nor the hope of good, from his offending creatures. In proportion as a criminal per- ceives that theclemency of his judge is either extorted by dread of consequences, or even by considerations of in- terest, it will fail to have upon him any subduing or melting influence : it will only inspire contempt. But, as the Supreme Judge is infinitely independent of his creatures, as his acts of clemency and of sparing mercy are entirely disinterested,— in no respect for his own, but all for the poor offender's sake ; ought not his patient forbearance to melt the sinner to contrition, in- stead of hardening him in rebellion ? — Say not, your continued transgression can do him tw harm. It is most true. The infinite God sustain damage from a creature! or be ultimately bereft of the smallest portion of his glory by a creature ! It were blasphemy to suppose it. That is a gratification which neither the malignity of earth or hell can ever obtain. *' If thou sinnest, what doest thou against him? or (if) thy transgressions be multiplied, what doest thou unto him ? If thou be righ- teous, what givest thou him ? or what recciveth he of thy hand? Thy wickedness (may hurt) a man as thou art ; and thy righteousness (may profit) the son of man." But ought not this very independence of Deity to con- vince you, that it is for your own sakes alone that he exercises towards you his forbearing clemency ? And should not this give an overcoming power to his warn- ings, as the dictates of compassionate kindness ? 2. — God is under 720 obligation to spare you ; — no, not for a moment. He might in justice now cut you off; and he might have done it long since, and have consigned you to merited perdition. And \\hi\\. justice ECCLES. viir. 9 — 17. 397 might have done, he has never wanted power to do. You are not spared because he cannot destroy you. He could, in one moment of time, sweep ofF into irreme- diable destruction every individual of his sinning crea- tures, and give existence to a new and better race, who should love, and fear, and serve, and honour him. But instead of this, he is pleased to call sinners to repen- tance, to invite them back to himself, to hold out to them, through the mediation of his Son, the sceptre of mercy, and to give them time to hear his voice, and to turn from their ways and live. O think, then, 3. — JVhat base ingratitude there is, in abusing this wonderful, this unmerited, this free and disinterested kindness of God. — Nay, ingratitude is too gentle a term. There is not a word in language sufficiently strong to express the hellish malignity of such conduct, or to convey any adequate idea of its inexpressible odiousness. — What would you think of the man, who should derive encouragement from the very kindness of a benefactor, to neglect him and to do him injury? — What do you think of the unnatural child, whom the very tenderness of his father encourages to disobey and insult him ? Yet this is what sinners do, when, from the merciful suspension of punishment, their " hearts are set in them to do evil :" only that the obligations which they violate are infinitely higher. God is good and kind to them amidst all their rebellions : he sustains Q^vQvy moment the life which they are employing against him- self. Yet instead of the thought of his goodness break- ing and changing their hearts, the very experience they have had of it, and the hope of its continuance, are the considerations which cheer tiiem on in their career of ungodliness. What think you of this ?— of trying the patience of God further, because wc have found it to 398 LECTURE XVr. be great!— of sinning against him with a high hand, because we know him to be " slow to anger !"— of blas- pheming and insulting him, because he does not in- stantly revenge the insult and the blasphemy ! — of har- dening our spirits in impious opposition, on account of that very mercy which ought to soften, and conciliate, and subdue them! — of persisting to trample on his au- thority and laws, because he himself has assured us, that he is ready to forgive !— O, my friends, how unnatural, how monstrous is this ! Surely the very thought, that you should have been guilty of any thing even ap- proaching to it, should wring your hearts with the bit- terness of shame and grief, should bring you to his feet in tears of penitential sorrow, and constrain you to give yourselves up henceforth to him from whom you have revolted, and with body, soul, and spirit, to serve him, — " redeeming the time." Let me conclude with a single word of admonition to Christians:— and it shall be conveyed in the language of their Lord himself. It is, to beware of the tempta- lion which even to them the seeming delay of judg- ment presents; — a temptation to forgetfulneafej to unbe- lief, to negligence, and to apostasy : — ^' Watch, there- fore ; for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come. But know this, that if the good man of the house had known in what watch the thief would come, he would have watched, and would not have suffered his house to be broken up. Therefore be ye also ready : for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh. Who then is a faithful and wise servant, whom his lord hath made ruler over his household, to give them meat in due season ? Blessed (is) that servant whom his lord, when he cometh, shall find so doing. Verily I say unto you, That he shall make him ruler over all r.ccLEs. VIII. 9 — 17. 399 his goods. But and if that evil servant shall say in his heart, My lord delayeth his coming; and shall begin to smile (his) fellow-servants, and to eat and drink with the drunken ; the lord of that servant shall come in a day when he looketh not for (him,) and in an hour that he is not aware of, and shall cut him asunder, and ap- point (him) his portion with the hypocrites: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth."* * Matt. xxiv. 42—51, LECTURE XVII, EccLEs. ix. 1 — 10. 1 " For all this I considered in my heart, even to declare ell this, thai the righteous and the wise, and their works, fare J in the hand of God : no man knoweth either lox'e or hatred ( by ) all (that is J be- 1 fore them. All f things come) alike to all : (there is) one event to the righteous and to the wicked ; to the good, and to the clean, and to the unclean ; to him that sacrifceth, and to him that sacrifceth not : as (is) the good, so (is) the sinner ; (and J he that sweareth, as 3 (he J that fcareth an oath. This (is) an evil among all (things) that are dojie under the sun, that (there is J one event unto all : yea, also, the heart of the sons of men is full of evil, arid madness (is J in their heart while they live, and after that (they go) to the dead. 4 For to him that is joined to all the living there is hofie : for a living 5 dog is better than a dead lion. For the living know that they shall die: but the dead know not any thing, neither have they any more 6 a reward ; for the memory of them is forgotten. Also their love, and their hatred, and their envy, is now perished ; neither have they any more a portion for ever in any (thing) that is done under the sun, 7 Go thy way, eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy wine with a 8 merry heart ; for God now accefiteth thy works. Let thy garments 9 be always white ; and let thy head lack no ointment. Live joyfully with the wife whom thou lovest all the days of the life of thy vanity, which he hath given thee under the sun, all the days of thy vanity : for that (is J thy portion in (this) life, and in thy labour which thou 10 takest under the sun. Whatsoever thy hand fndeth to do, do (it) with thy might : for (there is) no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest." In the close of the former chapter, vve found Solomon declaring the unsearchableness of " the work of God," or the conduct of his providence toward the children of men, even by the penetration of the acutest and most experienced minds. This he confirms by a reference to ECCLES. IX. 1 10. 101 his own want of success in all his endeavours to fathom the mystery ; although he was one to whom God had given " wisdom and understanding, and largeness of heart, even as the sand on the sea-shore." He was earnestly desirous to have understood and explained it; but after " considering in his heart" for this purpose, all that he could with certainty declare was, the exis- tence of the fact, and the necessity of leaving all, with believing submission, in the hand of God :-— " For all this 1 considered in my heart, even to declare all this, —that the righteous and the wise, and their works, (are) in the hand of God;"— in the hand of Him who is infinitely just, infinitely wise, and infinitely good. Though his providence does present a mystery to our limited fiiculties, yet he is not forgetful of those who fear him. They and their works are neither unknown, nor unregarded : and he will one day make it fully ma- nifest, that his whole procedure has perfectly accorded with his character, as '' the righteous Lord who loveth righteousness, and whose countenance beholdeth the upright." They themselves are under his special and unremitting care :— his eye is ever upon them ; his ear is open to their cry : and " their works" are remem- bered by him for good. «' They that' feared the Lord spake often one to another; and the Lord hearkened and heard ; and a book of remembrance was written before him, for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name. And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels ; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him. Then shall ye return, and discern between the righteous and the wicked; be- tween him that serveth God, and him that serveth him not."* * Mai. iii. 16—18. 3E 4(^a LECTURE XVII. But, however confident we may be of this distinctiors being ever present to the Divine mind, yet, in the gene- ral administration of Providence in the distribution of temporal good and evil, it often seems as if it were for- gotten ; so that, as it is here expressed, " no man knoweth either love or hatred (by) all (that is) before them." As there is no description or degree of tempo- ral prosperity with which wicked men are not favoured, and hardly any kind or measure of adversity to which good men are not at times subjected, no man can dis- cover, from his external condition merely, the state of the Divine affection towards him, whether he be an ob- ject of the love of God, or of the contrary ; the good and the evil of life coming alternately in the lot of all, — the gourd of earthly comfort flourishing one day and blasted the next, in the experience of men of every de- scription of character.— This sentiment is more fully- brought out, in Verse 2. " All (things come) alike to all ; (there is) one event to the righteous, and to the wicked ; to the good, and to the clean, and to the unclean ; to him that sacrificeth, and to him that sacrificeth not : as (is) the good, so (is) the sinner ; (and) he that sweareth, as (he) that feareth an oath." "The c/S LECTURE XVIll. This verse has not only a connection with the gene- ral subject of the preceding passage, but a more imme- diate relation to verse 10. In it he exhorts to the appli- cation of vigorous diligence in " whatever our hand iindeth to do." Here he suggests a caution against a too sanguine confidence of success, after the exertion of all our ability and all our skill. Different characters are prone to opposite extremes. Some are so timid and diffident, that they will hardly undertake or exert them- selves in any thing, from the apprehension of failure. Others are so dauntless and ardent, that failure hardly •ever enters into their calculations. The former are in danger of losing opportunities both of doing and of ob- taining good. They stand in need of excitement. The admonition of the tenth verse requires to be pressed upon their practical regard ; that they may not become the victims of inactivity and sloth. The latter are in danger of precipitation and extravagance, and, by their high undoubting assurance of success, of preparing for themselves the bitterness of disappointment. They need the counsels of humility and dependence. The lesson of the eleventh verse must be urged upon their notice , a lesson, of which the truth must be obvious to every attentive observer of human affairs: — " The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of under- standing, nor yet favour to men of skill ; but time and chance happeneth to them all." We very naturally expect, that the lightest of foot should always get first to the goal, and win the prize ; that in battle, the most numerous and well appointed and powerful army should uniformly be victorious; that the man of intelligence and prudence in business should pever f^il to make rich ; that he who courts favour and ECCLES. IX. 11 18. 429 popularity, by skilful and well-devised arts, should in- variably succeed in gaining the good graces of his fel- low-men.♦—But experience frequently contradicts our expectations. The man who is '^ swift of foot as a wild roe" may trip and stumble, or by some untoward acci- dent be thrown behind his less fleet competitor, innu- merable are the circumstances that affect what is called the fortune of war, — the chance of battle,— so that at times a hundred may put ten thousand to fligj?t. The most intelligent and prudent do, not unfrequently, with all their application and care, fail of gttting forward in the world, riches seeming unaccountably to elude their grasp. And die most insinuating and skilful courtier defeats sometimes his own purposes, or is thwarted by occurrences which he could not control, and becomes the most unpopular of men. We are not to conclude from this, that there is no adaptation of means to ends,— no tendency in these qualities to the desired event, more than in their oppo- sites ;— that there is no superior probability of success to the swift more than to the slow, to the strong more than to the weak, to the intelligent more than to the ig- norant, to the skilful more than to the foolish. Far from it. Were this the case, we might give up altogether the use of means for the attainment of our ends, or be ut- terly regardless of their nature. The meaning evidently is no more, than that, with all a man's superiority, suc- cess is not to be insured : — no man must count upon it with certainty. *' Time and chance happeneth to them all." *' Time." — There are favourable and unflivourable times in which men's lot may be cast ; and such times too may occur alternately in the experience of the same individual. A man of very inferior talent, should he fall -Jj30 * LECTURE xvni. . • on a favourable time, may succeed with comparative ease ; whereas in a time that is* not- propitious, abilities of the first order cannot preserve their possessor from, failure and disappointment. And even the same period may be advaiytageous to one de'scription of business, and miserably the reverse to another ; and it may thus be productive of prosperity to men who prosecute the former, and of loss and ruin to those engaged in the latter ; although the superiority in knowledge, capacity, andt pru'dence, may be all, and even to a great, degree, on the losing sicte. "• " Chance."-*- We rnust not understand Solomon as intending by the* use of this word, to convey the idea that there is, or can be, any thing absolutely fortuitous. The reign of chance can never be more than imaginary. The very supposition of it is pregnant alike with im- piety and absurdity. It is atheism.— Chance is a term denoting ignorance, not on God's part, but on ours. It has been happily defined, although by a poet, yet with- out a poet's fiction, — " direction which we cannot see." The blind Goddess of Fortune is but the creation of a foolish and ungodly fancy. Widiout our Heavenly Fa-^ ther, " a sparrow falleth not to the ground;" and no figure could more strongly express the idea of unre- mitted attention to the minutest interests of his chil- dren, than his " numbering the hairs of their heads." *' The lot is cast into the lap ; but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord." The obvious meaning of chance here is, that there is an endless variety of circumstances and events, which cannot be foreseen, and over which, therefore, no man can have any control, which yet must materially affect the success or the failure of all his schemes and opera- tions. These " secret things" which " belong unto the ECCLES. IX. 11 — 18. 431 , Lord," appear to us as if they came by chance ; and men who fear not God, idly talk of Fortune favouring . them when they prosper, and of .her being blind, capri- cious, an'd partial, when they fail. But all is under the supexintendence of Him who is infinite in wisdom, power, and goodness. And even with regard to our- selves, it is going too far to represent human life as a • perfect lottery, in which the wheel goes round, and blanks and priees are drawn out, without discrimina- ^tion and with equal frequency, for the indolent and the active, for the prudent and the foolish ; as if- indolence and activity, prudence and folly, were without distinc- tion in their respecti.ve tendencies. There is, however, beyond question, as universal experience evinces, and as the present times impressively testify, a vast deal of uncertainty in calculating the probabilities of a man's success in any pursuit. Unanticipated circumstances may assign the laurel to the slow, and leave the swift uncrowned ; may give victory to the weak, and bring defeat and shame to the strong ; may confer riches and favour on the ignorant and indiscreet, and withhold them from the wise, the skilful, and intelligent. — That "•chance" must have this restricted meaning, is ob- vious : for even if it were understood as exclusive of providence, still facts could never bear out the affirma- tion, that there are no distinctive tendencies in different principles and modes of conduct, and that it is, unquali*- ficdly, all one as to the result, whether a man be dili- gent or slothful, prudent or insensate. The sentiment of the eleventh verse is expanded in the twelfth : — " For a man also knovveth not his time : as the fishes that are taken in an evil net, and as the birds (that are) caught in the snare ; so (are) the sons 43S LECTURE XVIIl. of men snared in an evil time, when it falleth suddenly upon them." " Man knowetji not his time," refers to the uncer- tainty of events, the fickleness of human affairs, already- mentioned. A man may select his time for the execu- tion of any purpose, with much apparent sagacity. To others, as well as to himself, it may seem .the most pro- mising that could have been chosen. Yet who can, with certainty, tell him what shall be ? He knoweth not what a day may bring forth. The wind may suddenly shift. The tide may unexpectedly turn. The times may surprise him by an unlooked for change. He may cast his seed into an excellent bed, in the best of weather ; but numberless are the circumstances that may blast his hopes of a harvest. To-day may be an auspicious time, and his prospects may be brightened by the splendour of hope :— to-morrow may be unfavourable, and may cloud them with the darkness of despair. In this world of mutability, he must always plan and act with a mea- sure of uncertainty ; and ought to preface all his under- takings with — " If the Lord will." The fishes and the birds, roaming through their re- spective elements, with all the happy agility of freedom, dart suddenly into the net of the fisherman and the snare of the fowler. They are taken by surprise ; taken, beyond escape ; and taken, to be destroyed. " So (are) the sons of men snared in an evil time, when it falleth suddenly upon them." An evil time is a time of mis- fortune and calamity, which often comes unexpectedly, without the possibility either of its being anticipated, or of its mischievous effects being shunned. There is one most important time, of which men are left in total ignorance ; the time that closes their con. nection with this world, terminating all their schemesy ECCLES. IX. 11 18. 433 and labours, and enjoyments, and prospects. To the ungodly, this is indeed " an evil time," the worst of all times: and how often has it "fallen suddenly upon them !" How often, when a man has been in the unin- terrupted course of his prosperity, rising rapidly to the summit of his wishes; — when he has realized his for- tune, finished his house, laid out his lands,— and is say- ing to his soul, " Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years ; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry," — is he " snared in an evil time," and in a mo- ment goes down to the grave ! — " O that men were wise, that they understood this, that they would consi- der their latter end !" His general observations, Solomon illustrates by a case, which we may suppose to have been a matter of fact that had come to his knowledge :— Verses 13—16. " This wisdom have I seen also under the sun, and it (seemed) great unto me. (There was) a little city, and few men within it ; and there came a great king against it, and besieged it, and built great bulwarks against it. Now there was found in it a poor wise man, and he by his wisdom delivered the city ; yet no man remembered this same poor man. Then said I, Wisdom (is) better than strength ; nevertheless, the poor man's wisdom (is) despised, and his words are not heard." " This wisdom seemed great" to Solomon. He was delighted with it. It was found where it was not looked for. The governors of the city, the public functiona- ries, would no doubt set all their wits to work, to devise means of safety. But they could think of none that gave any promise of proving effectual. They were at a stand; and would of course have surrendered at discretion, or have perished by the sword of exterminating vengeance. In this emergency, an obscure, unknown, *' poor man, 31 434 LECTURE XVIII, b)^ his wisdom saved the city," which was little in it- self, ill defended, and quite incapable of withstanding the besieging army of a great king. " Yet no man remembered this same poor man." — • The danger was no sooner over, than he was ungrate- fully forgotten, and his important service was unre- warded.— " Wisdom," on this occasion, was " better than strength," and prevailed against it, foiling the- might of the assailing enemy. But the honour that is due to wisdom is not always obtained by its possessor. Had this wise man been at the same time a man of sta- tion and wealth, his name would probably have been recorded in the annals of the city, a pillar possibly reared at the time to commemorate his service, and a monument of regret erected over his grave. But the man was poor ; and having been neglected before, he quickly relapsed into his original obscurity. " His wis- dom was despised, and his words were not heard." They rvere indeed heard ; but it was only in the mo- ment of danger and alarm. Or, for aught we can say, the poor man's scheme might be devised and executed by himself, done secretly, or with the concurrence and aid of a few more of his own station. And whether this was the case, or whether it was laid before the chief men of the city, and by them adopted, the effect might be envy, and consequent studied neglect. For although a pressing sense of immediate danger might induce them at the time to listen to and follow his counsel, it might still be with the despicable feelings of spiteful jealousy; and when the danger was past, the same feelings might induce them to treat with neglect the poor benefactor of their city ; or he might speedily escape their memo- ries, as *' the chief butler," when restored to his hq- iiours, " remembered not Joseph, but forgot him." ECCLES. IX. 11 — 18. 435 But why is this incident introduced here ? What is its connection with the writer's subject ? The connec- tion is far from being distant. It presents an illustration, in two views, of the sentiment in the eleventh verse. It shows, in the first place, that " the battle is not to the strong." A mighty monarch came against this small and feeble city, invested it, and constructed his works around it. Its destruction seemed inevitable. But there happened to be within its walls, amongst the obscure part of its population, a poor man, who in his wisdom suggested some expedient, which baffled the exertions and frustrated the hopes of the enemy, rendering all his engines and bulwarks useless and unavailing. This little circumstance, unforeseen and unexpected, disconcerted the whole project, and gave preservation and victory to the weak. — It shows, secondly, that " favour is not to men of skill." — It does not appear, it is true, that the poor man had any such object in view as courting fa- vour. But he displayed wisdom and skill ; and he missed their merited recompense. His poverty and ob- scurity, or the envy of those in power and station, de- prived him of his due. There seems, at first view, an inconsistency between the end of the sixteenth verse and the seventeenth. In the former it is said, " The poor man's wisdom (is) despised, and his words are not heard : — in the latter, ^'The words of wise (men) are heard in quiet, more than the cry of him that ruleth among fools." — In the seventeenth verse, there is probably a reference to the quiet way in which this " poor wise man" saved the city. We may suppose him to have communicated his scheme to two or three privately, who had the good sense to hear him, and to enter into his views ; and whilst *' the cry of him that ruled among fools," — the 436 LECTURE XVIII. loud and blustering bravadoes, it may be, of a' sense- less and headstrong ruler, were not only unavailing, but calculated to hasten and to aggravate the ruin of the place, — the wisdom of this poor man was '^ heard in quiet," and was secredy, and without noise and os- tentation, working its deliverance.— This renders the sixteenth and seventeenth verses quite consistent ; the latter referring to the attention shown to his wise sug- gestions at the time, and their influence in effecting the deliverance of the city ; and the former, to the subse- quent disregard of the man himself and of his wisdom, when the threatening danger was past, — the indisposi- tion then either to hear or to profit by it, or to give re- spect and honour to its possessor. Verse 18. " Wisdom (is) better than weapons of war: but one sinner destroyeth much good." In the instance which Solomon had just adduced, the truth of the former part of this verse had been illus- trated and established. Wisdom had proved its supe- riority to military weapons and warlike engines, for it had effectually overcome them ; and it Had thus accom- plished what forcible resistance would have attempted in vain. And even on the supposition that " weapons of war" could have delivered the city, still it must have been at the expense of blood, and of varied and accu- mulated distress, — of the tortures of the wounded, and the groans of the dying, and the tears of widows, and orphans, and friends ; — all which was prevented by the timely exercise of wisdom. From his being contrasted with one " sinner," wc are naturally led to consider the wise man as not only politically sagacious and prudent, but wise in a higher sense,— truly good, influenced by right principles, by motives of genuine disinterested benevolence, by re- ECCLES. IX. 11 — isr. 437 gard to the will of God and the obligations of duty, sa- tisfied with the attainment of the benefit to others, with- out stopping to calculate the possible results to himself. — This one wise man effected much good : but ^' one sinner destroyeth much good." It is fur caiiier to do harm, than to do good. And one wicked man, possessed of a little mischievous subtlety and address, may, and, alas ! often does succeed, in thwarting and frustrating the best concerted schemes, overturning the most pru- dent arid beneficial regulations, effectually embarrassing the wisdom of the wise, and impeding the efforts of the benevolent, and thus producing the most serious and incalculable injury. The influence of one truly wise and good man may be very extensive, both upon the temporal and the spi- ritual condition of others, — in preventing evil, and in promoting personal and social happiness. But how much good, on the contrary, may not one sinner de- stroy ! and how much positive evil may he not be the instrument of 'working ! How often has such a man broken the peace and ruined the comfort of families, which might otherwise have remained united and happy! How often has he sown in secret the seeds of jealousy and discord in a circle of friends and acquaintances ! How often fanned the flame of discontent, sedition, and rebellion, in a community enjoying a happy measure of peace, freedom, and prosperity ! How often has he blasted characters by defamation and slander, and thus marred and destroyed extensive usefulness ! How often, by falsehood and misrepresentation, has he imposed on others, to the loss of their property, the ruin of their affairs, and the consequent distress of themselves and families ! How often— But time would fail me to enu- merate all the ways in which a sinner may destroy 438 LECTURE XVIII. temporal good. — Then, when we think of the good he may destroy, and the evil he may occasion, of a spiri- tual kind, how weightily must the observation be felt by every serious mind ! By plausible and sophistical, but palatable and seductive reasonings, he may shake and root out the half-formed principles of the unesta- blished inquirer, acting as Satan's instrument in "catch- ing away what has been sown in his heart ;" by his ex- ample, his counsel, his sneers, and his flatteries, by adorning, in captivating and alluring colours, the plea- sures of sin, touching by ridicule the feelings of false pride, representing as unreasonable the restraints of re- ligion and virtue, praising the spirit, and working on the vanity, of his victim, he may successfully entice the young and unwary to criminal indulgence, and may thus baffle the efforts, and balk the delighted hopes, of godly parents. He may take a malignant pleasure in plying his arts of temptation upon the more established, and he may exult in the desolating effects of his occa- sional success, — when a godly man has been entangled in his snares, or has tripped and fallen over any of his stumbling-blocks, and has thus offended the church of God, opened the mouths of the profane to scorn and blasphemy, and hardened the infidel in his unbelief, and the transgressor in his course of sin. He may set him- self down as a centre of contagion, and may spread all around him a moral and spiritual pestilence, counter- working all the purifying, salubrious, and life-giving efforts of piety and benevolence, of parental solicitude, ministerial zeal, and private philanthropy. The corrup- tion of one may spread to ten ; of ten to a hundred ', of a hundred to a thousand. And it goes down through succeeding generations. The corrupted father commu- «icaies the taint to his children; and they again to theirs. ECCLES. IX. 11 18. 439 So that the pernicious influence of " one sinner" that lived in the time of Solomon, may be widely felt, though it cannot be traced, even at the present day ; and the mischief of one destroyer of good amongst ourselves, may continue and increase to the very close of time ! My Christian brethren, let us bear in mind, that this infectious nature of sin is one of the reasons why we are admonished to attend to the purity of fellowship in the church of God. — " Know ye not, that a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump ? Purge out, therefore, the old leaven, that ye may be a new lump, as ye are un- leavened. For even Christ, our passover, is sacrificed for us. Therefore, let us keep the feast, not with old leaven, neither v/ith the leaven of malice and wicked- ness, but with the unleavened (bread) of sincerity and truth."* " Looking diligently, lest any man fail of the grace of God : lest any root of bitterness, springing up, trouble (you,) and thereby many (be) defiled. "f — O let us beware of ever fancying there can be safety, where the Lord has declared there is danger. We are not sufficiently impressed with the deceitfulness of our own hearts, when we entertain such a thought. Let us ever cherish humility and self-vigilance ; and see to it, that we ourselves be promoters and not destroyers of good. Let us, at the same time, in the united exercise of Christian love and Christian faithfulness, guard against the wilful admission of corruption, the volun- tary implanting of "roots of bitterness;" and when corruption has been unwittingly received, and has sufcr^ sequently discovered itself, let us beware of its pre- sumptuous retention, in open-eyed disobedience to the will of Christ, self-sufficient insensibility to our own danger, and disregard of the honour of his name. * 1 Cor. V. 6—8, t Heb. xii. 1 J. 410 LECTURE XVllI. Although there are principles in our nature, as fallen creatures, which render the work of the sinner, in doing evil and destroying good, much more easy than that of the wise man in promoting good and repressing evil, yet let us be encouraged in all our benevolent labours, especially those for the spiritual benefit of other's, by considering the extent of possible advantage from suc- cess in a single instance. The seduction of one is fear- ful, both in itself, and in the sad train of consequences that may arise from it. But let us not forget how valua- ble, in itself and in its possible results, is the conver- sion and salvation of one. " If any of you do err from the truth, and one convert him, let him know, that he who converteth the sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins." Even if the good stopped here, it would be in- estimably precious ; for " what is a man profited, if he should gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul ?" But think of the influence of this individual on others, in the family, in the circle of relatives and friends, and in the neighbourhood to which he belongs; and, through them, on successive generations to the end of time. " He established a testimony in Jacob, and ap- pointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fa- thers that they should make them known unto their children ; that the generation to come might know (them, even) the children (who) should be born, (who) should arise and declare (them) to their children ; that they might set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments."* — How animating is the thought, (and there is no enthusiastic extravagance in it,) that the good we now do may continue * rsal. Ixxviii. 5 — 7. ECCLES. IX. 11 18. 44.1 to be felt, and felt in a constantly widening circle, till the last trumpet shall sound !— that one sinner brought back to God may, for aught we can tell, prove, in course of time, the salvation of thousands ! The solitary seed that has yielded thirty, sixty, or a hundred fold, stops not there. Each of the grains of its produce may yield the same ; and field must be added to field to receive the accumulating increase. — L^t parents, let ministers, let sabbath-school teachers, let all in their respective spheres of spiritual influence, be stimulated by such considera- tions to lively and persevering exertions, and to the seizure of every opportunity, on which prudence lays not an evident interdict, of " seeking the profit of others that they may be saved." Let us further learn from this passage, to beware of self-dependence. If *' the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong," then ought the" admonition to be obeyed, as the dictate of Divine wisdom as well as tlie injunction of Divine authority, — "Trust in the Lord with all thy heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and he shall direct thy paths." Fully assured, that although to us the future is uncertain, and events that have been unanticipated n\i\y to our minds seem accidental, there is no such thing as chance or fatalism, but that all things are under the immediate and unceasing superintendence of an all-wise providence, let us consider it as our part t» tise means, to look to God for his blessing, and to leave the issue in his hands. This state of mind is the most consistent at once with duty and with happiness. It keeps the spirit tranquil ; disposed to gratitude for success, and at the same time prepared for possible dis- appointment j "the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keeping the heart and mind by Christ 3 K 44g lecture; xviii. Jesus." As we ought not to " boast of to-morrow, be- cause we know not what a day may bring forth ;" so neither should we be over-anxious about to-morrow, because we may be distressing ourselves about what we are never to see. How beautiful, how affectionate, how persuasive, and how full of argument, the Saviour^s exhortations to his disciples against all anxious concern about the future days of life ! '^ Wherefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink ; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment ? Behold the fowls of the air ; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not ye much better than they ? Which of you, by tak- ing thought, can add one cubit unto his stature ? And why take ye thought for raiment ? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow ; they toil not, neither do they spin : and yet I say unto you, that even Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, (shall he) not much more (clothe) you, O ye of little faith ? Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat ? or. What shall we drink ? or. Wherewithal shall we be clothed ? [for after all these things do the Gentiles seek ;] for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness ; and all these things shall be added unto you. Take, therefore, no thought for the morrow ; for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day (is) the evil thereof."* * Matt. vi. 25—34. ECCLES. IX. 11 — 18. 443 And whilst we learn the lesson of dependence on God respecting all our temporal interests, let us be equally on our guard against depending on ourselves in our Christian course, in our spiritual warfare, — in "running the race set before us," — in " fighting the good fight of faith." Our speed in the one, our cou- rage and strength in the other, and our victory in both, must come from above. Divesting ourselves of all self- confidence, let our trust be in Him who " giveth power to the faint, and to (them that have) no might increaseth strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall : but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew (their) strength'; they shall mount up with wings as eagles ; they shall run, and not be weary ; they shall walk, and not faint."* Further : It is the part of true wisdom to be prepared, as far as its precautions can reach, against possible emer- gencies. Let none of you, then, count upon life,— no, not for an hour ; — for " man knoweth not his time." Death is at once the most certain and the most uncer- tain of all things. It must come ; but when^ or how^ O who shall tell us ? Every one of us has his " time," fixed in the purpose of Him who " appoints us our bounds, that we cannot pass." How awful will it be, if that time come upon any of you unawares ! — if, *' as the fishes are taken in an evil net, and the birds are caught in the snare," so you should be *' snared in an evil time," by its " falling suddenly upon you." Ah ! then will it be to you an evil time indeed ! O ye care- less children of men, who are treading every moment on the verge of eternity, trifle no longer with its infi- nitely weighty concerns ; lest it should be with you as it was with the incredulous and infatuated antedilu- * Isa.xl. 29— 31. 444 LECTURE XVIII. vians, who scorned the warning voice of the " preacher of righteousness." They were " eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noah entered into the ark ; and knew not until the flood came, and took them all av/ay." Beware, then, lest while you " say, Peace and safety, sudden destruc- tion should come upon you !" " What meanest thou, O sleeper? Arise, and call upon thy God" to save thee from the gathering storm ; for the elements are con- spiring thy ruin. Think not to brave it. Speed thee to the Ark which he has provided for thy security, and where alone thou canst be safe. Come to Jesus. Make him thy refuge. All shall then be well, — all safe, — safe for eternity. And ye, brethren in the Lord, join to the lesson of dependence on God, the lesson of sleepless vigilance. It was not to men of the world, but even to his own dis- ciples, that Christ addressed the warning, " Take heed, lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with sur- feiting and drunkenness, and the cares of this life, and so that day come upon you unawares." " Be ye, there- fore, sober, and watch unto prayer." Be ever at your respective posts, in the service of your Master : and then, although you know not the time of his coming, it will never be to you "an evil time." Whether he ar- rive " at even, or at midnight, or at cock-crowing, or in the morning," let him find you watching. In occupying your talents for the glory of God and for the good of men, you may not always meet from the latter with a suitable return. This ^'poor wise man, who by his wisdom delivered the city," had he been again placed in similar circumstances, might have been tempted to consult his own preservation only, and to leave those who had so ungratefully neglected and ECCLES. IX. H — 18. 445 scorned him, to shift for themselves. This would have been the conduct dictated by the ordinary principles prevalent in the world. But the Bible teaches a lesson more disinterested and generous. We roust not be " weary in well-doing," even to those from whom we may have met with a sorry recompense. Let your eye be directed, not to men, but to him who " is not un- righteous, to forget your work and labour of love, which ye show toward his Name;" and his example is to be the model from which you are to copy : — ** Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them who despitefully use you, and persecute you ; that ye may be the chil- dren of your Father who is in heaven : for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. For if ye love them who love you, what reward have ye ? do not even the publicans the same? And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more (than others ?) do not even the publicans so? Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father who is in heaven is perfect."* * Matt, V, 44—48. LECTURE XIX. ECCLES. X. 1 10. 1 " Dead Jlies cause the ointment of the afiothccary to send forth a stinking savour: fso doth J a little folly him that is in re/tutation 2 for ivisdom (and J honour. A ivise man's heart (is J at his right 3 hand ; but afooPs heart at his left. Yea also, when he that is a fool nvalketh by the ivay, his wisdom faileth (him, J and he saith to every 4 one (that) he (is J a fool. If the spirit of the ruler rise up. against 5 thee, leave not thy place ; for yielding pacifeth great offences. There is an evil (which J I have seen under the sun, as an error ("which) 6 proccedeth from the ruler ; Folly is set in great dignity, and the 7 rich sit in low place. I have seen servants upon horses, and princes 8 walking as servants upon the earth. He that diggeth a pit shall fall 9 into it ; and whoso breaketh a hedge, a serpent shall bite him. Whoso rcmoveth stones shall be hurt therewith ; (and) he that cleaveth 10 wood shall be endangered thereby. Jf the iron be blunt, and he do not whet the edge, then must he put to more strength : but wisdom (is) profitable to direct." xIaving spoken of the excellence of wisdom, Solo- mon here proceeds to lay down certain maxims, rela- tive both to its advantages, and to the mode of its exercise. The first of these is an observation founded in uni- versal experience, and arising both from the nature of the thing, and from the corruption of the human heart : —Verse 1. " Dead flies cause the ointment of the apo- thecary to send forth a stinking savour ; (so doth) a little folly him that is in reputation for wisdom (and) honour." When the apothecary has compounded his ointment, of the richest and sweetest ingredients, with much skill, ECCLES. X. 1 — 10. 447 and care, and time ; if flies fall into it, and die there, and putrify, especially in a hot climate, they will de- stroy its pleasant fragrance, and produce an oftensivc stench. So, when a man has acquired a high reputation for wisdom, and an honourable character, the higher he rises in public estimation, the more cautious and guard- ed he requires to become in his behaviour : for " a lit- tle folly" will mar, and may even ruin his good name ; and bring him to neglect and disgrace. As dead flies spoil the sweet odour of the ointment, so doth " a little folly," a remaining foible, a comparatively trifling in- consistency, or even an occasional slip, aftect the cha- racter of the man who " is in reputation for wisdom (and) honour." The causes of this do not lie deep. In the first place. In proportion to the height of a man's reputation, he attracts notice. The eyes of others are upon him. The fool passes unheeded; nobody mind- ing what he says or what he does. But when a person rises to eminence, his behaviour is marked. It becomes the subject of scrutiny and of conversation. An im- portance attaches to whatever he is, or says, or does. And the more eyes are fastened on a man, the less likely is any infirmity or fault to escape detection and animadversion. " A city that is set oil a hill cannot he hid." Secondly. The higher a man's reputation is, the more is expected of him. The less allowance, consequently, is made for his failings. That which in an ordinary man would have passed unobserved, is noticed in him with surprise and astonishment. Instead of his defects being lost, like the spots in the sun, amid the blaze of his ex- cellences, the very light of his virtues serves to give them relief and prominence ; so that they are in great 448 LECTURE XIX. danger of proving a counterbalance to all his estimable qualities. Thirdly. This danger is ten fold increased by the influence of a principle, which, (alas for human nature !) is too welcome a guest, too close an inmate in our bo- soms, and of which we had occasion, in a former lec- ture, to expose the odious nature and mischievous effects, — I mean spite and envy. It is the malevolent wish of envy, to keep down a rising character to the common level. We are mortified by the superiority of others, especially if, by talent and diligence, they have passed ourselves in the race and left us behind them. It is its aim and business, both to depreciate the merits, and to magnify the faults, of its objects ; and eagerly does it avail itself of " a little folly," marking it with hawk-eyed keenness, exposing and exaggerating it, setting it in the most unfavourable lights, associating it slily and malignantly with each of the person's ex- cellences, not so as to hide it by means of them, but to disparage them by means of it, and in every way im- proving it to the discredit and the ruin of his reputation. Such being the case, the obvious improvement which should be made of it by " the man who is in reputation for wisdom (and) honour," is, to " ponder the path of his feet," — to be very circumspect and very consistent. This he ought to aim at with unremitting vigilance, not only for his own sake, but for the sake of his useful- ness, in the employment of his wisdom and influence, for the good of men, and for the glory of God ; his power to do good being necessarily proportioned to the esteem in which he is held. Solomon's next observation regards the advantage of the wise man over the fool, in the management of all descriptions of business :— Verses 2, 3. *' A wise ECCLE^. X. 1 10. 440 man's heart (is) at his right hand ; but a fooPs heart is at his left. Yea, also, when he that is a fool walketh by the way, his wisdom faileth (him,) and he saith to every *one (that) he (is) a fool." It is evident from the connection, that the heart in this place, as in many other instances in the Scriptures, means iht judgment or understanding of man. It is the same word that, in the third verse, is rendered wisdom ; **His wisdom faileth him," being, in the original, '^his heart faileth him."— The " right hand" is the hand which men usually employ, in works both of labour and of skill ; and which they use with the greatest rea- diness, dexterity, and success. The expression, there- fore, in the second verse, " A wise man's heart (is) at his right hand, but a fool's heart is at his left,"— seems to xu^dXi— First. Tliat a wise man minds his own proper business; whereas the fool neglects what belongs to himself, and is exceedingly officious, intermeddling, and full of sagacious counsel, in every one's concerns but his own. Any wisdom he has is " at his left hand :" it is applied in the wrong place. — Secondly. The under- standing of the wise man is at all times ready for his immediate direction, — ^< at his right hand." So that, being steadily applied to its proper business, it is pre- pared to meet times of emergency, and to act as cir- cumstances direct, so as not to ruin or even injure his affairs, either by imprudent precipitation or unnecessary delay. The fool, on the contrary, is ever uncertain, ever at a loss, all hesitation and perplexity. His wisdom is always to seek. It is never to be found at home ; but is continually roaming abroad among a thousand matters with which he has nothing to do ; so that, in his own proper concerns he is incessantly taken at unawares^ startled, disconcerted, stupified ; and the moment of 3L 450 LECTURE XIX. needful action being lost, his affairs are irretrievably disordered. — Thirdly. That which the wise man does, his wisdom enables him to do xvell—\\\\\\ skill and dex- terity—-{■a. word derived from the very circumstance of the right hand being the hand of promptitude and skill,)*— whereas the fool, when he does any thing at all, does it with his left hand ; not only applying any little fragments of wisdom he may possess, in a wrong direc- tion, but bungling, blundering, and failing, even in that which he attempts. The fool has not even so much wisdom as to conceal his folly. " When he walketh by the way,"— that is, in the whole of his ordinary intercourse with men, — in the daily concerns of common life, — " his wisdom faileth him, and he saith to every one that he is a fool." He cannot meet a neighbour on the road without making an exposure of his folly. By some ridiculous speech or out-of-the-way action, he makes the vacancy or the dis- tortion of his mind as apparent as if he were to say to every one " I am a fool." He blabs out imprudently and inconsiderately what he does know, without regard to time, place, or company ; or he talks ignorantly and absurdly of what he does not know. By his words, by his actions, or by his manner in both, he tells to all his folly, exposing himself to the pity of some, and to the contempt and derision of others. Nobody respects him ; nobody can place any dependence upon him, or com- mit any business to his care. The fourth verse contains one of the counsels of wis- dom : — " If the spirit of the ruler rise up against thee, leave not thy place ; for yielding pacifieth great of- fences." It is very similar to the advice in chap. viii. 3. *' Be not hasty to go out of his sight ; stand not in an evil thing ; for he doeth whatsoever pleaseth him." * Latin— Dexter. ECCLES. X. 1 10. 451 The case brought before us is that of a real or sup- posed foult on the part of a subject, by which the anger of his prince has been excited. — In such circumstances, a proud and hasty fool would instantly throw up his place, avow himself a rebel, and endanger his head. Wisdom will act a different part. " Leave not thy place :"— do not rashly and passionately quit the prince's presence and renounce his service. If you have com- mitted the fault, frank and ingenuous confession is more than your interest, — it is your incumbent duty. If you have not, yield a little in the mean time, and take a more favourable opportunity afterwards, when **the spirit of the ruler" is calmer, and more disposed to listen to reason and right, of clearing your character, and establishing your innocence. Do not argue with an angry man ; and least of all with an angry prince. Let him have time to cool. *' Yielding pacifieth great offences." It settles them, and brings them to rest. There is a vast deal more to be gained by meekness and gentleness, and by a little calm prudence and ma- nagement, than by resentful and intemperate violence. Rulers, it is acknowledged by the Royal Preacher, do not always conduct themselves agreeably to the dic- tates of true wisdom, or in a manner in all respects cal- culated to fix the affectionate regards of their subjects. One evil, fitted to give occasion for much envy and jealousy, contempt and wrath, he specifies in verses 5 —7 : " There is an evil (which) I have seen under the sun, as an error (which) proceedeth from the ruler. Folly is set in great dignity, and the rich sit in low place. I have seen servants upon horses, and princes walking as servants upon the earth." The evil which is animadverted on in these words is the capricious and unreasonable advancement of igno- 45S LECTURE XIX. rant and incapable minions from a low to a high station, from inferiority and subjection to eminence and au- thority ; whilst the nobles of the land, who, from their birth, and wealth, and influence, might be supposed destined to high place, and by their education, and the study of the law, and government, and politics of their country, qualified for elevation and rule, are overlooked and degraded, being set beneath the indigent, and empty, and despicable upstart ; so that while a servant, — or rather a slave, — rides in all the pomp of pageantry and state, princes and nobles walk— as his inferiors and at- tendants,— on foot. This was far from being a very un- common case, under the despotic governments of the East ; slaves of the palace being not unfrequently, from caprice, partiality, or secret selfishness, advanced to the highest ranks, to look down, in haughty supercilious- ness, on their natural and deserving superiors. The passage is not to be interpreted as if it pre- cluded men of low degree from mounting by their own merit, gradually and fairly, by successive steps of ad- vancement, even to the highest and most honourable offices of the state. The evil consists in elevating the low, not merely from a low station, but from such a station accompanied with incapacity : — " Folly is set in great dignity." Uneducated, inexperienced, narrow- minded and imprudent men, as low in mental character jas base in birth and in station, are suddenly exalted to superiority and power, by senseless or unprincipled favouritism. Such men have disgraced their unseemly dignity, by mean, mercenary, imperious, rash, and ruinous misconduct. For, in most instances, such up- starts in the state, turn out not merely fools, but inso- lent an4 overbearing tyrants. !^any a time has such conduct brought shame and ECCLES. X. 1 10. 453 ruin, not on the favourite himself only, but on his im- prudent master, accompanied sometimes also with seri- ous calamity to the state : and the language of the fol- lowing verse might be considered as referring to the foolishness of such a ruler ; who, in degrading his no- bles, and exalting his unworthy minion, digs a pit for himself : --Verse 8. " He that diggeth a pit shall fall into it ; and whoso breaketh a hedge, a serpent shall bite him." The eighth, ninth, and tenth verses, however, taken together, may be more naturally interpreted, as a cau- tion against rash, inconsiderate rebellion, — precipitate, ill-advised, ill-concerted, and ill-conducted attempts, to overturn or to alter the established government of a country. Such attempts can never be made without imminent hazard to him who ventures upon them: — Verses 8—10. ^' He that diggeth a pit shall fall into it ; and he that breaketh a hedge, a serpent shall bite him. Whoso removeth stones shall be hurt therewith ; (and) he that cleaveth wood shall be endangered there- by. If the iron be blunt, and he do not whet the edge, then he must put to more strength : — but wisdom is profitable to direct." Even with regard to such a court minion as has above been described, the patriotic desire to bring him down from his elevation, and to deliver the country from the mischiefs his folly inflicts upon it, may be attended with no little danger in the attempt at its accomplishment. The man who violently seeks his downfall may bring injury, and possibly even death, upon himself. — But the verses have a general and strong application to those who give way to the suggestions of pride and resent- ment for real or fancied injuries, and are driven on, by intemperate discontent, to schemes of sedition, or open 454 LECTURE XIX. rebellion. When a man digs a pit, there is a risk of his falling into it himself. So when either a ruler be- comes a tyrant, or a subject a rebel, the oppressive abuse of power endangers the safety of the one, and the resistance of lawful authority that of the other. — The violent dealing both of the tyrant and of the rebel, is ever ready to come down upon their own heads. All history concurs to show us how both the one and the other have ^'digged pits" for themselves, — falling vic- tims to their own lawless passions, or to their inconsi- deration and rashness ; the retributive justice of Divine providence frequently displaying itself, in infatuating wicked men, in leaving them to outwit themselves, and to be ** snared in the works of their own hands." — The man who <' breaks a hedge,"— an old hedge, where ser- pents are wont to lurk, may expect to be bitten : so he who attempts incautiously to break down or to root up the ancient fences and boundaries of law and govern- ment, is in imminent jeopardy of receiving deadly stings ; — either bringing down premature vengeance upon his head from the existing powers, or involving himself in ruin by the disturbances which he excites. *' Whoso removeth stones" — from a building, for instance, with the view of pulling it down, — " shall be hurt therewith;" the stones falling upon him, bruising him, and breaking his bones, — especially if he goes to work in a hasty and unskilful manner, or attempts the removal of what is too heavy for his strength : — so the man who sets himself to pull down or to alter the fabric of the constitution and government of a country, under- takes a work of no light or trifling difficulty, and a work always of hazard to himself, and very often of fearfully doubtful benefit to others. It is a vast deal easier to find fault than to mend ; to complain of what is wrong, than ECCLES. X. 1 10. 455 to substitute what is right ; to pull down an old house, than to build up a new one. *' (And) he that cleaveth wood shall be endangered therewith." In all cases there is risk of this. But the risk is various in degree ; and it is especially great, when a man sets about his work with bad tools : — Verse 10. " If the iron be blunt, and he do not whet the edge, then must he put to more strength ;" and the more strength he is obliged to apply, the hazard of ac- cident becomes the more imminent. So is it with the man who presumes to act the part of a corrector of er- rors, and reformer of abuses, without natural capacity, without experience and skill, without adequate and well- prepared means; or who attempts to accomplish by force and violence what he cannot effect by prudence and management. The peril to himself is thus tenfold augmented, and along with the peril to himself, the ha- zard of mischief to others. But in these and in all other matters, " wisdom is profitable to direct." It is of use to guide us, in the whole of our conduct, according to the circumstances which providence allots us:— to "direct" to the most proper objects of desire and pursuit, and to the best means of attaining them ; to the most eligible method of employing these means, and to the most suitable time for their application. All these come within the pro- vince of wisdom ; and to all these due attention is ne- cessary, in order to good being done effectually and safely without failure and shame, and without concomi- tant or subsequent mischief. Allow me, before closing— m tJie first place, to apply the observation in the first verse of the chapter, in a more particular manner, to Christian character. — '^ A good name," it is said in the beginning of the seventh 456 LECTURE XIX!. chapter, " (is) better than precious ointment." In pro- portion to its value, it should be preserved with care ; as the apothecary will be anxious, according to the fineness and costliness of his perfume, to keep it from dead flies, and every other means of deterioration and corruption. It is precious in itself, and ought to be carefully retained for its own sake. It is precious on account of the happy influence imparted by it, in enforcing all a man's instructions, and counsels', and attempts at usefulness; and should be cherished for the sake of its effects. When a man possesses a high character as a Christian, he is "in repu- tation for wisdom and honour" of the most excel- lent kind. This is " a good name" indeed ; — the best it is possible to enjoy. It is like that sacred oint- ment, compounded by the instructions of God himself, which was to be applied to no common or profane use, and of which no imitation was permitted to be made. O my Christian brethren, of what importance is it, for the honour of God our Saviour, and for the best inte- rests of our fellow-men, that we preserve this reputa- tion untainted ! When David, by his fall, " gave occa- sion to the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme," he did essential injury to both; injury that has never been re- paired even to this day : — for his recorded sin is still the sneer of the scofliing infidel, and the encouragement of the determined offender. O seek, earnestly and im- portunately seek, those supplies of grace that are need- ful, for enabling you to maintain a steady consistency, — to keep your garments clean, amid the pollutions of a defiled and defiling world, — to keep the sweet per- fume of your Christian virtues free from the corruption of offensive incongruities. Remember the eyes of the men of the world are intently fixed on those whom the ECCLES. X. 1 10. 457 blessed Redeemer has " chosen out of the world," and who profess to have separated themselves from its sins and its vanities. They watch them narrowly. They are acute detectors of inconsistency. They have a malig- nant satisfaction in the discovery of evil ; and, when a discovery is made, there are no bounds to the severity of their censure ; they know not what it is to make al- lowances. It speedily circulates, gathering aggravations in its progress. It is commented on with all the keen- ness of invective, and ail the bitterness of sarcasm ; with the sneer, the shrug, the wink, the smile of irony, the sallies of satirical humour, and the loud laugh of jesting and buffoonery. The unhappy transgressor may have "wept a silent flood;" his penitent spirit may have been "pierced through with many sorrows;" he may have " confessed his transgression to the Lord," and found forgiveness at the foot of the cross. But the evil he has done to others may be beyond remedy. — And remember, my brethren, it is not by gross sins alone that your Christian reputation and usefulness may be injured. Flaws and defects, and failings, which in others would pass unnoticed, may be marked and mag- nified in you. The unguarded liberty of a single hour may sink in the scale the character acquired in succes- sive years ; and even a foible may mar your influence, and be like the dead fly in the ointment of the apothe- cary. The higher you stand in situation and repute, the greater is your danger, and the more imperative the call to vigilant self-jealousy. — Be you ever so watchful, it is true, you may be the victims of calumny and false accusation ; but let it be your constant aim, with the implored aid of the Spirit of God, to " abstain from all appearance of evil," and to *' cut off" occasion from those who desire occasion" against vourselves, and 3 M 458 LECTURE XIX. against the Master whom you serve. " Walk in wis* dom toward them that are without, redeeming the time. Let your speech (be) alway with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man." " Sanctify the Lord God in your hearts; and (be) ready always to (give) an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear : having a good conscience ; that, whereas they speak against you as evil-doers, they may be ashamed that falsely accuse your good conversation in Christ."* Secondly. If a wise man's heart is at his right hand, and a fool's heart at his left, there is one most important particular, in which all are by nature fools; and the grace of God alone corrects the folly. — There is one object, about which every man whose understanding is not miserably perverted, must feel a special solicitude ; and for which, calculating on the principles of common prudence, every thing else ought to be cheerfully sacri- ficed. Yet while " all things are full of labour," the diversified toils of men are almost exclusively for ** the meat that perisheth." How few comparatively mind the gracious injunction, to " labour for that which endureth .to eternal life!" This is a description of labour to which men have no natural inclination; in which, alas ! every man's heart is "at his left hand." He cither ne- glects it altogether, or he sets about it on false princi- ples, and in a wrong way. The truly wise man, the man whose heart is " at his right hand," considers im- mortality as incomparably the most important concern of an immortal creature ; and the service of God, in whatever sphere he occupies, as his happiness and his honour. To this service he applies his right hand, em- ♦ Col. Iv. 5, 6. 1 Pet, iii. 15, 16. ECCLES. X. 1 10. 159 ploying in it all his power and all his skill. —And whiLt he pursues the highest of all aims, he does it accordini; to the directions of a wisdom superior to his own. The fool may attempt to serve God in his own way and in his own strength, and to attain immortal life on ti\c ground of his own fancied merits. But the wise man, impressed with the presumption and vanity of all such attempts on the part of sinful creatures, guilt)-, con- demned, and without strength, accepts, with gratitude, the offers of mercy». Instead of " going about to esta- blish his own righteousness," trying to make out u condition of life which he has already violated, forming and breaking unprofitable resolutions, he " submits himself to the righteousness of God,"— *• the righteous- ness which is by faith." *' Accepted in the beloved," he gives himself to God in active service, under the impulse of grateful love. His right handy and all the powers of his mind directing its efforts, are devoted to his new Master. He follows implicitly the dictates of his will ; throwing aside his own mventions and reason- ings, and pursuing Divine ends by Divine means, seeking God's glory in God's own way, and never pre- suming that he can improve upon the counsels of Hea- ven. When he acts otherwise than thus, his " heart is at his left hand." " Let no man deceive himself. If any man among you scemeth to be wise in this world, let him become a fool that he may be wise. For the wis- dom of this world is foolishness with God ; for it is written. He taketh the wise in their own craftiness : and again, The Lord knoweth the thoughts of the wise, that they are vain." If, instead of humbly abiding by the instructions given us, we begin to devise rules and to follow methods of our own, it will turn out in the end only an exhibition of our folly. It will be " saying to 460 LECTURE XIX. every one that we are fools." And instead of whatso- ever we do prospering, nothing can be anticipated from our schemes but failure and shame. Thirdly. Observe the manner in which all oiTences and differences should be managed, if our object be to heal, and to restore confidence and peace.— The advice and sentiment in the fourth verse may be profitably generalized. You may not be called to " Stand before kings," and to incur the displeasure of rulers. But in all the various intercourse of life,— in the family, in the church, in the world,— bear in mind the maxim, that ••'yielding pacifieth great offences." Nothing is to be gained by proud defiance and angry violence ; by the display of an unbending spirit ; a spirit that scorns to confess its own faults, and that seem to stoop and con- descend, with haughty superciliousness, in receiving the acknowledgments of others. A gentle yielding spirit is the spirit of conciliation and harmony. Anger irritates and inflames the wound ; meekness mollifies, cleanses, and heals it. Resentful pride adds fury to the storm ; a mild demeanour changes it to a calm. By the pouring on of oil we may smooth the wave, which we should lash and rebuke in vain. " Put on, therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mer- cies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, long- suffering; forbearing one another and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any ; even as Christ forgave you, so also (do) ye. And above all these things (put on) love, which is the bond of per- fectness : and let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to the which also ye are called in one body ; and be ye thankful."* Fourthlij. It is a good general principle, reasonable * Col, Jli. 12 — 15. ECCLES. X. 1 10. 461 in its nature, and beneficial in its application, that every man keep within his own sphere in society, discharg- ing its duties with humility, and judging others with candour. — Public men are exposed to many and strong temptations ; and on many occasions, amidst the con- tending interests of the members of their own com- munity, and the relative claims of foreign states, can- not fail to be environed with perplexing difficulties. We certainly expect more than is reasonable, if we imagine they are never to err, or that their errors are always to be trivial. Let us place ourselves in their situation, and, sensible of the deceitfulness of our own hearts, and of our liableness to err and to be imposed upon even in the little concerns of common life, let us not be extravagant in our expectations, or harsh and contemptuous in our judgments.— Not that princes and the administrators of government are never to be told of their errors, and of the dangers and the mischiefs to which the country is exposed by their misrule. Only let us be diffident and candid, and ready to make fair and reasonable allowances. — And let us beware of rash and hasty interference. There are few things in which consideration and caution are more imperiously requir- ed, than the redress of grievances and the reformation of abuses. Resentment and pride are dangerous coun- sellors ; and measures of precipitation and violence arc seldom either equitable or expedient. Those men are often the most forward with their schemes and their offers of aid, who are least qualified for the work, and least aware either of the difficulties of its execution, or of the problematical uncertainty of its consequences. — The body politic, like the animal body, will ever be most vigorous and thriving, when all the members keep their proper places, and duly fulfil their respective 462 LECTURE XIX. functions. And the same similitude is applied by in- spired authority to the church, or the body of Christ. " The body is not one member, but many. If the foot shall say, Because I am not the hund, I am not of the body ; is it therefore not of the body ? And if the ear shall say, Because I am not the eye, I am not of the body ; is it therefore not of the body ? If the whole body (were) an eye, where (were) the hearing ? and if the whole (were) hearing, where (were) the smelling? But now hath God set the members every one of them in the body as it hath pleased him. — And the eye can- not say unto the hand, I have no need of thee ; nor again, the head to the feet, 1 have no need of you. — That there should be no schism in the body ; but (that) all the members should have the same care one for another. And whether one member suffer, all the mem- bers suffer with it ; or one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it."* Beware, especially, of intermeddling with others from envy, or any such malignant principle, with a view to bring them down. Many a time, in such cases, has the saying been verified, " He that diggeth a pit shall fall into it." In the secret workings of his providence, the Lord often turns into foolishness the evil devices of men against one another, and particularly against his own people, and entangles their feet in the meshes of their own snares. Haman was hanged on the gallows which he had prepared for Mordecai ; and Mordecai, whom he had sought to crush, was advanced to dignity and honour. — The author of a calumny digs a pit, into which he not unfrequently falls himself. He prepares a grave for tlic reputation of another, and he who pro- pagates the slander assists him in deepening and widen- * ICor. xii. 14—18,21, 25. ECCLHS. X. 1 10. 4fi3 ing it ; and in the issue it buries his own. " Judge not, that ye be not judged : for with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged, and with what measure yc mete, it shall be measured to you again." " He shall have judgment without mercy that hath showed no mercy."* Lastly. Never forget whence all the " wisdom" that is " profitable to direct," and especially all spiritual un- derstanding of truth and duty, must be sought and found. " if any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all liberally, and upbraideth not : and it shall be given him." " The wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without par- tiality, and without hypocrisy." " For this cause we also do not cease to pray for you, and to desire that ye might be filled with the knowledge of his will, in all wisdom and spiritual understanding; that ye might walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, be- ing fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God." '^ Show me thy ways, O Lord : teach me thy paths. Lead me in thy truth, and teach me ; for thou (art) the God of my salvation ; on thee do I hope all the day."t * Matt. vii. 1, 2, James ii. 13. t James i. 5. iii. 17. Col. i. 9, 10. I'sal. xxv. 4, 5. LECTURE XX, ECCLES. X. 11 20. 11 " Surely the scr/icnt will bite without enchantment ; and a babbles' 12 is no better. The words of a wise man's mouth fare J gracious: but 13 the lifis of a fool will swallow ufi himself. The beginning of the words of his mouth (is) foolishness ; and the end of his talk fisj 14 mischievous madness. .4 fool also is full of words : a man cannot tell what shall be ; and what shall be after him, who can tell him ? 15 The labour of the foolish wearieth e-very one of them, because he 16 knoweth not how to go to the city. Woe to thee, 0 land, when thy 17 king CisJ a child, and thy firijices cat in the morning I Blessed fart J thou, O land, when thy king (is J the son of nobles, and thy princes eat in due season, for strength, and not for drunkenness I 18 By much slothfulness the building decayeth ; and through idleness 19 of the hands the house droppeth through. AJeast is made for laugh- ter, and wine maketh merry : but money answcreth all (things.) 2Q Curse not the king, no, not in thy thought ; and curse not the rich in thy bed-chamber : for a bird of the air shall carry the voice, and that which hath winga shall tell the matter.'* In these verses, Solomon pursues the same general train of thought as in those which precede ; comparing together the respective qualities and effects of wisdom and folly. Verse 11. " Surely the serpent will bite without en- chantment, and a babbler is no better."— There is in these words an allusion to a practice said to prevail in the East, of charming adders by the power of sounds, fascinating them by musical incantations, and rendering them for the time harmless to the persons who handled them. There are references to the same custom in other parts of Scripture ; and the fact is vouched by consi- derable authorities. " Their poison" (the poison of ECCLES. X. 11 20. 405 wicked men) " (is) like the poison of a serpent : (they are) like the deaf adder, (that) stoppcth her ear; that will not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming ever so wisely." " Behold, I will send serpents, cocka- trices, among you, which (will) not (be) charmed, and they shall bite you, saith the Lord."* The meaning of the verse before us, however, does not at all depend on the reality of the alleged fact: Whether it was authentic, or only the general belief, the sentiment expressed is the same. — *' Surely the ser- pent will bite without enchantment," — that is, he will bite unless he be charmed: " and a babbler is no better." This latter clause is by some rendered—" and there is no success to the master of the tongue ;" and is inter- preted as expressing the vanity of the most exquisite incantations, even by " charmers charming ever so wisely," after the bite has been injlicted ;■[ and as in- tended to warn against delay in softening and subdu- ing a dangerous character, and thus preventing what, when once done, it may be far from easy to remedy. But it was not by the subtle eloquence of the tongue, that serpents were charmed ; and the connection evi- dently favours the translation of the Hebrew phrase, signifying " master of the tongue," by such an English designation as " babbler," or talker ;— 3. man who is all tongue. — This " babbler" is the very person to be charmed. He is compared to a serpent. His tongue is dangerous in the extreme,— doing injury sometimes without design and sometimes with it, — from the want of common sense, or from the want of principle. It is '' an unruly evil, full of deadly poison." He who gives to his tongue an unrestrained license, and is guided in ♦ Psal. Iviii. 4, 5. Jer. viii. 17. f Si serpens momorclerit, non incantatus, quid prxstabit peritisslinus in- cantatoi- i—l'an der Palm. 3N 466 LECTUIIE XX. the use of it neither by principle nor by prudence, is a man that requires to be managed with peculiar caution. Contradiction and violence may only irritate, and make the venom of his tongue the more virulent and deadly. He must be charmed. We must find out his right side, — the way to gain his good graces, to tame him, and keep him gentle. If he be a man of power, the danger of meddling with him becomes the more imminent, and the necessity for cautious management the more im- perative. But a babbler is dangerous not only to others ; he is equally so to himself: — Verse 12. " The words of a wise man's mouth (are) gracious; but the lips of a fool swallow up himself." — " The words of a wise man's mouth/' — of the man who is guided by sound princi- ple and discretion, and a due consideration of circum- stances and characters, — " are gracious :"-- they are kind and insinuating, adapted, in times of difficulty, to gain and to secure the friendship of others,— to avert gathering storms, and to still the tempest when it has begun to rage. Such were the words of Jacob, when, after having committed himself to the God of his fa- thers, he went to meet his brother Esau, whose proud resentment he had so much cause to fear.* And such were the words of Abigail to David, when his wrath had been kindled by the insolent conduct of her chur- lish and thankless husband, and his purpose of ven- geance had been formed, and was on the eve of imme- diate execution.! The contrast of the first clause of this verse with the second, clearly shows what is meant by the gracious- ness of the wise man's words :— " but the lips of a fool swallow up himself." His rash, imprudent, and passion^ ♦ Gen. xxxii. -j- i Sam. xxv. ECCLES. X. 11 — 20. 467 ate, or his unprincipled and slanderous talk, is inces- santly exposing him to hazards, alienating his friends, exasperating his enemies,* and bringing upon him their open or their secret vengeance. He thus digs pits for himself that may swallow him up, and becomes the victim of his own folly. — The conduct of the successor of Solomon in the throne of Israel, affords an apt illus- tration of " a fool's words swallowing up himself." Had Rehoboam followed the sound advice of the aged counsellors of his father, and " spoken good words to the people," when they came to implore a mitigation of their burdens, all had been well. They would have sworn a willing allegiance ; would have shouted " God save king Rehoboam !" and would have been, as the old men expressed it, " his servants forever." But, like a fool, instead of his words being " gracious," he *' answered the people roughly," talked, with super- cilious severity, of " his little finger being thicker than his father's loins," and of " chastising them with scor- pions in place of whips:" and his ungracious words *' swallowed up himself." They roused the indignant spirit of the people, divided his kingdom, and alienated for ever from the house of David the whole of Israel except the tribe of Judah. We cannot wonder that the fool's words should be represented as thus hazardous to himself as well as to others, when we consider the description of them in the thirteenth verse : — " The beginning of the words of his mouth (is) foolishness ; and the end of his talk (is) mischievous madness." — When he speaks at all he speaks foolishly ; and commencing in folly, lie con- cludes in madness : he either works himself up to a pitch of frenzy, by the very power of eager and con- tinued vociferation, fretting and fuming with ridiculous 468 LECTURE XX. and extravagant passion, at phantoms possibly of his own creation, which his wild and incoherent mind has embodied into reality, and, by dwelling upon them and talking of them, has aggravated to a hideous magni- tude :— or, if he happens to meet with the smallest check or contradiction,— if he is not listened to with the at- tention to which he deems such an oracle entitled, — if Ills hearer does not appear to feel along with him to the full extent to which he absurdly feels himself; — he is instantly on fire, all blaze, and smoke, and noise ; he is thrown more and more oflf his guard ; till his passion becomes " mischievous madness," perilous to all with- in his reach, and whom he has power to injure, and not less perilous to himself. Were it not for the harm which such a combustible talker, in his moments of inflammation, may occasion, along with the pain pro- duced by the humiliating spectacle of a fellow-man ex- posing himself, as the wretched dupe of his own im- becility and senseless passion, he might well be laughed at for the ludicrous incongruity between his feelings and their exciting causes, between his endless and over- powering talk, and the subjects of his voluble vehe- mence.— The character is in this verse shortly but strikingly touched. It is far from being uncommon. And there are few more dangerous, or more difficult to manage. Ft'w ideas and many rvords,. is the next feature in the portraiture of the fool : — Verse 14. " A fool also is full of words : a man cannot tell what shall be ; and what shall be after him, who can tell him ?" Some, I believe, have fancied, that Solomon here 7nimics the fool, — giving an exemplification or speci- men of what he means. Rather than cease talking, the fool will repeat the same thing in much the same words : ECCLES. X. 11 20. 469 — " A man cannot tell what shall be,— and what shall be after him, who can tell him ?" But this, if it be in- genious, is not solid. T\\e two clauses are not of the same meaning. The latter is not a mere vain repetition of the former. " A man cannot tell what shall be," ex- presses a person's own inability to dive into the future; and '* what shall be after him, who can tell him ?" ex- presses the inability of all others to give him the infor- mation he may wish for. By others, the verse is considered as reproving the presumptuous vanity of the fool's talk. His being •' full of words," they think, refers particularly to his foolish boastings of what he is to do,— his airy promises, — his extravagant and confident schemes for the future, and vauntings of their certain success ;— a very common way in which the fool utters his mind and proclaims his folly ; forgetting entirely, that while he thus talks at random, and roams at large over the fields of futurity, with no doubts, no conditional ifs^ no humble recollection of dependence, between him and the attainment of all his speculations, — " a man cannot tell what shall be ; and what shall be after him, who can tell him ?" Others still,— and this is probably the true meaning, —interpret the words as descriptive of the loose inco- herency, the unconnected heterogenous jumble, of the fool's discourse ; which is so mingled, so impertinent, so disjointed, that no man at any one part of it, can tell, or can even guess, what is to come next. No man can judge from what he is now saying, what he is about to say, or from what he is now doing, what he is about to do. If the person who is himself at a loss puts the question to others, he finds them ^s unable to conjec- ture as himself:— "a man cannot tell what is to be; and what is to come after it, who can tell him ?" All 470 LECTUHE XX. is Babel: no order, no system, no associated pairs of ideas, no rational and perceptible sequence of one thing from another. In these different interpretations, the character repre- sented is much the same ; only it is brought out from the words in different ways. The fool appears in them all, as a man of words, rather than of ideas ; and " full of words." He talks at random about every thing, past, present, or to come ; and is always equally confident. It is vain to attempt arguing with him ; he cannot be kept to a point ; he will stupify you with talk ; and he must and will have the last word, even although he should only say at the end the same thing tliat he said at the beginning. A total wqnt of common sense in the most ordinary affairs of life, and transactions of business, completes the picture : — Verse 15. " The labour of the fooHsh wearieth every one of them; because he knoweth not how to go to the city." — This last expression was in all probability proverbial. ^^ He does not know the way into the city,"— although, it may be, living in the im- mediate vicinity. He wanders in the openest and best frequented road : — that is, he blunders in the simplest and easiest matters. If there be a wrong way, he is sure to take it.— The whole verse connects immediately with the preceding. " A man cannot tell what is to be ; and what shall be after it who can tell him ? The labour of the foolish wearieth every one of them:'''' — that is, all men that have any thing to do with him. They are tcazed, and harassed, and worn out of patience by his incorrigible stupidity, and the blunders it is perpetually producing ; blunders, of which the rectification is some- times much more troublesome than the entire business about which they are committed. Send the fool back ECCLES. X. 11-^20. 471 to adjust his error, and it is twenty to one that he makes a second worse than the first. The whole of this description of the absurdity of the fool's discourse and conduct, and its mischievous conse- quences, may be understood as opposed to the brief commendation of wisdom in the end of the tenth verse, as "profitable to direct." The wise man " orders his own aff'airs with discretion," and whatever is intrusted to him by others he manages with prudence, accuracy, and despatch, securing to himself approbation, confi- dence, and advancement. In speaking of the opposite effects of wisdom and folly, it was not unnatural for the writer, himself a king, to introduce some remarks on the comparative influence of the one and the other, when predominant in the character of public rulers: — Verses 16, 17. " Woe to thee, O land, when thy king (is) a child, and thy princes eat in the morning. Blessed (art) thou, O land, when thy king (is) the son of nobles, and thy princes eat in due season, for strength, and not for drunkenness." " A child," in the former of these verses, refers not so much to age, as to capacity. A wo is pronounced on a country when its sovereign is ignorant, inexpe- rienced, froward, fickle, wilful, easily imposed upon, and otherwise unfit, as a child, for his weighty charge. The historian of the reign of Rehoboam the son of Solomon, in the first book of Kings, informs us that the prince " \s?