II. Over against the miseries of a selfish, solitary life, our author sets THE loyalties OF COMPANIONSHIP. (Esther 4:9-12.) Friendship affords considerable mitigation of the evils by which life is beset, and a positive gain is secured by those who cultivate it. Three very homely figures are used to describe these advantages. The thought which connects them all together is that of life as a journey, or pilgrimage, like that which Bunyan describes in his wonderful book. If a man is alone in the journey of life, he is liable to accidents and discomforts and dangers which the presence of a friend would have averted or mitigated. He may fall on the road, and none be by to help him; he may at night lie shivering in the cold, if he has no companion to cherish him with kindly warmth; he may meet with robbers, whom his unaided strength is insufficient to beat off. All these figures illustrate the general principle that in union there is mutual helpfulness, comfort, and strength, verification of which we find in all departments of life—in the family, in the intercourse of friends, and in the Church. The benefits of such fellowships are undeniable. "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 application of bodily or mental energy to difficult and laborious tasks; mutual relief amidst the fluctuations of worldly circumstances, the abundance of the one reciprocally supplying the deficiencies of the other; mutual defense and vindication when the character of either is injuriously attacked and defamed; and mutual reproof and affectionate expostulation when either has, through the power of temptation, fallen into sin. 'Woe to him that is alone when he so falleth-and hath not another to help him up!'—no one to care for his soul, and restore him to the paths of righteousness" (Wardiaw). So far as the application of the principle to the case of ordinary friendship is concerned, the wisdom of our author is instinctively approved of by all. The writings of moralists in all countries and times teem with maxims similar to his. Some have thought that this virtue of friendship is too secular in its character to receive much encouragement in the teaching of Christianity; that it is somewhat overshadowed, if not relegated to comparative insignificance, by the obligations which a highly spiritual religion imposes. The fact that the salvation of his soul is the one great duty of the individual might have been expected to lead to a new development of selfishness, and the fact that devotion to the Savior is to take precedence of all other forms of affection might have been expected to diminish the intensity of love which is the source of friendship. And not only have such ideas existed in a speculative form, but they have led, in many cases, to actual attempts to realize them. The ancient hermits sought to cultivate the highest form of Christian life by complete isolation from their fellows; they fled from society, dissevered themselves from all the ties of blood and friendship, and shunned all association with their kind as something contaminating. And in our own time, among many to whom the monastical life is specially repulsive, the very same delusion which lay at the root of it is still cherished. They think that love of husband, wife, child, or friend conflicts with love of God and Christ; that if the human love is too intense it becomes a form of sin. And along with this is generally found a cruel and dishonoring conception of the Divine character. God is thought of as jealous of those who take his place in the affections, and the loss of those loved is spoken of as a removal by him of the "idols" who had usurped his rights. That such teaching is a perversion of Christianity is very evident. The New Testament takes all the forms of natural human love as types of the Divine. As the father loves his children, so does God love us. As Christ loved the Church ought a husband to love his wife, ought his followers to love one another. No bounds can be set to affection; he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God." The one great check, that our love for another should not be allowed to lead us to do wrong or condone wrong, is not upon the intensity, but upon the perversion of affection, and leads to a purer, holier, and more satisfying exercise of affection. That Christ, whose love was universal, did not discourage friendship is evident from the fact that he chose twelve disciples, and admitted them to a closer intimacy with himself than others enjoyed, and that even among them there was one whom he specially loved. It was seen, too, in the affection which he manifested to the family in Bethany—Martha and Mary and their brother Lazarus. In the time of his agony in Gethsemane he chose three of the disciples to watch with him, seeking for some solace and support in the fact of their presence and sympathy. The truth of Solomon's statement that "two are better than one" was confirmed by Christ's sending out his disciples "two and two together" (Luke 10:1), and by the Divine direction given by the Holy Ghost when Barnabas and Saul were set apart to go together on their first great missionary enterprise (Acts 13:2). But over and above these instances of Christ's example in cultivating friendship, and of the advantages of mutual co-operation in Christian work, the peat principle remains that true religion cannot come to any strength in an isolated life. We cannot worship God aright if we "forsake the assembling of ourselves together;" we cannot cultivate the virtues of which holiness consists—justice, compassion, forbearance, purity, and love—if we isolate ourselves; for all these virtues imply our conducting ourselves in certain ways in all our relations with others. We lose the opportunity of helping the weak, of cheering the disheartened, and of co-operating with those who are striving to overcome the evils by which the world is burdened, if we withdraw into ourselves and ignore others. So far, then, from the wisdom of Solomon in this matter being, in comparison with the fuller revelation through Christ, of an inferior and almost pagan character, it is of permanent and undiminished value. Our acquaintance with Christian teaching is calculated to lead us to form quite as decided a judgment as Solomon did as to the evils of a solitary life, and the advantages of friendship.—J.W.
Mortifications of royalty.
Yet another set of instances of folly and disappointment occurs to our author's mind; they are drawn from the history of the strange vicissitudes through which many of those who have sat upon thrones have passed. His references are vague and general, and no success has attended the attempts of those who have endeavored to find historical examples answering exactly to the circumstances he here describes. But the truthfulness of his generalizations can be abundantly illustrated out of the records of history, both sacred and profane. The reason why he adds these instances of failure and misfortune to his list is pretty evident. He would have us understand that no condition of human life is exempt from the common lot; that though kings are raised above their fellows, and are apparently able to control circumstances rather than to be controlled by them, as a matter of fact as surprising examples of mutability are to be found in their history as in that of the humbler ranks of men. He sets before us—
I. The image of "AN OLD AND FOOLISH KING, WHO WILL NO MORE BE ADMONISHED;" who, though "born in his kingdom, becometh poor." He is debauched by long tenure of power, and scorns good advice and warning. "We see him driven from his throne, stripped of his riches, and becoming in his old age a beggar." His want of wisdom undermines the stability of his position. Though he has in the regular course inherited his kingdom, and has an indefeasible right to the crown he wears—though for many years his people have patiently endured his misgovernment—his tenure of office becomes more and more uncertain. A time comes when it is a question whether the nation is to be ruined, or a wiser and more trustworthy ruler put in his place. He is compelled to abdicate, or is forcibly deposed or driven from his kingdom by an invader, whose power he is unable to resist. His noble birth, his legal fights as a sovereign, his gray hairs, the amiability of his private character, do not avail to secure for him the loyal support of a people whom his folly has alienated from him. The same idea of folly vitiating, the dignity of old age is found in Wisd 4:8, 9, "Honorable age is not that which standeth in length of time, nor that is measured by number of years. But wisdom is the grey hair unto men, and unspotted life is old age." The biographies of Charles I. and James II. of England, and of Napoleon III; furnish examples of kings who learned nothing from experience, and scorned all warnings brought upon themselves misery like that hinted at by Solomon. The first of them met his death at the hands of his exasperated subjects, and the other two, after deep humiliations, died in exile.
II. The second instance of strange vicissitude is that of ONE WHO STEPS FROM A DUNGEON TO A THRONE. It is by his wisdom that he raises himself to the place of ruler over the neglected community. From obscurity he attains in a moment to the height of popular favor; thousands flock to do him homage (verses 15, 16a, "I saw all the living which walk under the sun, that they were with the youth, the second, that stood up in his stead. There was no end of all the people, even of all them over whom he was," Revised Version). The scene depicted of the ignominy into which the worthless old king falls, and the enthusiasm with which the new one is greeted, reminds one of Carlyle's vivid description of the death of Louis XV. and the accession of his grandson. The courtiers wait with impatience for the passing away of the king whose life had been so corrupt and vile; he dies unpitied upon his loathsome sick-bed. "In the remote apartments, dauphin and dauphiness stand road-ready … waiting for some signal to escape the house of pestilence. And, hark! across the (Eil-de-Boeuf, what sound is that—sound' terrible and absolutely like thunder'? It is the rush of the whole court, rushing as in wager, to salute the new sovereigns: 'Hail to your Majesties!'" The body of the dead king is unceremoniously committed to the grave. "Him they crush down and huddle underground; him and his era of sin and tyranny and shame; for behold! a New Era is come; the future all the brighter that the past was base" ('French Revolution,' vol. 1. Ecclesiastes 4:1-16.). The same kind of picture has been drawn by Shakespeare, in 'Richard II.,' act 5. sc. 2, where he describes the popularity of Bolingbroke, and the contempt into which the king he displaced had sunk. Yet, according to the Preacher, the breeze of popular favor soon dies away, and the hero is soon forgotten. "They also that come after him shall not rejoice in him." The dark cloud of oblivion comes down and envelops in its shade both those who deserve to be remembered, and those who have been unworthy of even the brief popularity they enjoyed in their lifetime. "Who knows," says Sir Thos. Browne, "whether the best of men be known, or whether there be not more remarkable persons forgot than any that stand remembered on the known account of time?" ('Urn-burial').
The fickle and short-lived character of all earthly fame should convince us of the futility of making the desire of the applause of men the ruling motive of our lives; it should lead us to do that which is good because it is good, and not in order "to be seen of men," and because we are responsible to God, in whose book all our deeds are written, whether they be good or whether they be evil. The sense of disappointment at the vanity of human fame should dispose our hearts to find satisfaction in the favor of God, by whom all our good deeds will be remembered and rewarded (Psalms 37:5, Psalms 37:6; Galatians 6:9; Matthew 25:21).—J.W.
Ecclesiastes
Ecclesiastes 4 - ecclesiastes-4 - worlddic.com