CRITICAL NOTES.]
Esther 1:12. Vashti refused to come] It was regarded as something unheard of if the queen appeared in public unveiled.—Lange. Vashti means the best.
Esther 1:13. Which knew the times] Astrologers and magicians; generally to be learned.
Esther 1:14. The seven princes] refers in the present case to the seven Amshaspands, in others to the days of the week, or the seven planets.
MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH. Esther 1:10; Esther 1:14
A CATALOGUE OF NAMES
Names are applied to persons and things to set forth their distinguishing characteristics, and to separate one from the other. The name of the person should represent and bring before us the person so designated. But the names of these seven eunuchs and seven princes do not give us any indication of their peculiar properties. These names are names only. The persons named are lost in the oblivion of the past.
I. Human names are needful to the perfection of the historic record. This Book of Esther is a history as well as a drama. For the consistency of the drama, and to the perfection of the historic record, there must be the record of names. We may wish to know something about the persons named, but the historian cannot always check his narration to describe every person to whom allusion must be made. All he has to do is to give a faithful and general account of the transactions recorded.
II. Human names are useful as being incidental testimonies to the veracity of the history. A long list of names is dry reading. It sometimes makes an unpleasant break in the even flow of the narrative, but it gives an air of truthfulness to the record. It shows that the writer either has much skill, or is speaking about real transactions with which he is familiar. We have no just reason to suppose that these sacred writers were endowed with the worldly cunning which led them to conjure and insert names for the purpose of making their myths appear something more than mythical compositions. There is the evident absence of all deep art in their compositions. There is a simplicity which speaks of veracity.
III. Human names are recognized by the Divine mind. Language itself must be of Divine origin. We cannot conceive human language having come into existence in any other way. Names, then, are part of the Divine plan. The God of order must approve of those names which are needful to the orderly movements of society. They are plentifully employed in the Divine book. There are distinctions on earth, and names are needful to preserve those distinctions. There are distinctions in heaven, and perhaps names will continue in that sublimer sphere.
IV. Human names may be entered on the historic page and the owners sink away into obscurity. These seven eunuchs and seven princes have for us no deep interest; their glory is gone, their names only abide. How touching it is to reflect that the greater part by far of the race become only meaningless names! We have even no certain data for the interpretation of these names. They have generally but little resemblance to known Persian names. But we may go further. The best known names of the present will be crowded out of prominence by the names of coming celebrities. There are vast multitudes in this country who do not know the names, and still fewer who are acquainted with the characters, of those great men who have fashioned our country’s history. So passes speedily away all human glory. The name of Christian will ever abide.
V. Human names may be entered on the historic page without any merit on the part of the owners. If historic scrolls contained only the names of the meritorious, if even of the meritorious from a human standpoint, how short would be the list! The work of the historian would be very considerably abridged. These names are inserted on account of their connection with the sacred story.
VI. Human names may be recorded in a sacred list and yet the owners not themselves be sacred. This number seven was peculiarly sacred to the Persians. If these eunuchs and princes had been of sacred character, if they had been known for deeds of goodness, we may reasonably suppose that the Divine penman would have paused in order to testify of their noble characters. This course is from time to time pursued in the Bible. Many that are unsacred have their names written on the sacred lists of earth. It is difficult, yea impossible, to keep our sacred lists perfect. The names of the unworthy and the impure will get inserted. The sacred list of heaven alone is perfect. Characters, not reputations, are considered in Divine judgments. Not the skilful utterers, but the consistent doers of Divine words will be written on Divine lists.
VII. Better than the celebrity of human names is the immortality of noble deeds. The most celebrated of human names will vanish. Noble deeds alone are immortal. When the names now blazoned forth on the pages of history, or trumpeted in the ears of the world, are known no more, then will be remembered the names of God’s faithful ones. For God is not unrighteous to forget their works and their labours of love.
“Be good, my child, and let who will be clever—
Do noble deeds, not dream them all day long;
And so make life, death, and that vast forever
One grand, deep song.”—Charles Kingsley.
SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS ON Esther 1:10; Esther 1:14
It is to be added, also, that mere genealogies, bare narratives of the number of years which persons, called by such and such names, lived, do not carry the air of fiction; perhaps do carry some presumption of veracity; and all unadorned narratives, which have nothing to surprise, may be thought to carry somewhat of the like presumption too.—Butler’s Analogy.
Every human name more or less historic. Some persons exercise a direct historic influence; others are but incidentally associated with the great facts of time.—Dr. Parker.
In a similar way, many of the driest portions of the historic books—the genealogies, for example—minister to the same end. The mere frequency and copiousness of such matter, untinctured with the smallest trace of mythological influences, and attended, as it often is, with a break in the continuity and interest in the narrative, is, pro tanto, a voucher that the writings in which they occur are neither fiction nor myth.… We can understand the moderate use which Homer or De Foe may have made of such matter; that is, just so far as to impart a general air of verisimilitude. But whole pages together of nothing but names are so preposterously beyond all imaginable necessities of allusion, and so destructive of all interest in the reader, that we may safely infer that the introduction of such matter, to the extent we find it in the Bible, will admit of no such solution. As little will it admit of a mythical origin; for though myths may be a gradual and insensible growth of the popular imagination, they are yet true to the principles on which they have been constructed and embellished, to amuse or instruct; and neither the one purpose nor the other can be answered by whole Chapter s containing nothing but long catalogues of names.—The Superhuman Origin of the Bible, by Henry Rogers.
MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH. Esther 1:10-12
FALSE MERRIMENT AND ITS RESULT
“When the heart of the king was merry with wine” he sent the seven eunuchs—which refers in the present case to the seven Amshaspands, in others the number refers to the days of the week, or the seven planets—“to bring Vashti the queen before the king with the crown royal, to show the people and the princes her beauty. But the queen Vashti refused to come at the king’s commandment: therefore was the king very wroth, and his anger burned in him.”
I. Here is false merriment. There is a merriment which is wholesome, and there is a merriment which is injurious. That merriment which is the outcome of a nature working harmoniously will do good, and will leave pleasant reflections; but that merriment which is the outcome of a nature where alcohol has sunk into temporary oblivion all unpleasant views, and has unduly excited into delirious joy, will work damage, and when it has gone a bitter memory will remain. The last state of the man’s heart made merry with wine is always worse than the state before the heart was reached by the delusive liquor. The false, both in nature and in morals, cannot be without either attendant or consequent evils. Better no merriment than that which is purchased at the expense of future repose. Let the heart of man be merry with the new wine of heaven.
II. Here false merriment leads to a foolish command. When the heart is thus merry with wine the head gets wrong. The directing portion of the brain is disordered and weakened by alcohol. Strange freaks are performed, and the merry heart too often becomes a broken heart. Very suggestive is the statement “when the heart of the king was merry with wine.” Nothing is said about the head. The stomach is too often the strongest force in a drunkard’s frame. Ahasuerus, in his maudlin state, did not dream that his beloved and beautiful queen would dare to be disobedient. He gave a foolish command. His folly brought its bitter fruit. He sowed the wind and reaped the whirlwind. Let us be careful how and whom we command.
III. A foolish command leads to a humiliating refusal. It never occurred to this proud and merry-making monarch that a woman would venture to refuse, when courtiers fawned and flattered, and when princes rendered obeisance. In the very climax of his glory and his merriment he received a blow which was more humiliating than defeat on the battle-field. What a consternation when Vashti refused to come! If there was one thing more than another calculated to make this king sober, it was the tidings that Vashti refused to come. Our troubles come from quarters where we least expect them.
IV. This humiliating refusal leads to a still more humiliating display. Sometimes fools are so silly as not to see that they have been humiliated. But Ahasuerus had not been rendered senseless by the copious draughts of rich wine; he had just enough sense left to see that he had received a great affront; “therefore was the king very wroth, and his anger burned in him.” A king in a childish passion. How unkingly! This royal child asked for his queen to be brought, as an over-spoilt child asks for a fresh toy to gratify a surfeited nature, and then begins to cry and make a farcical scene because the request is refused. If there was one manly spirit present at the scene, he must have blushed for his country to see it governed by such a pitiful specimen of manhood. Here learn—
1. That human greatness reveals human weakness. Earthly kings are not omnipotent. Only God is all-powerful; and oftentimes with the small hand of his weakest creatures he touches the strong man and makes him tremble. In the day of proudest successes we receive the most humiliating strokes.
2. An uncurbed will must meet with strange rebuffs. A Persian monarch’s command was not to be disputed, and thus he did not learn to respect the rights of others. While we uphold our own rights, and maintain a proper dignity, we must remember that others have rights. Spoiled children must come to grief.
3. That at Divine feasts alone do we find the best at the last. Where Ahasuerus and his like preside the best wine is drunk first, and at the conclusion the guests are only too glad to escape without personal harm. Where Christ presides the joyful guests exclaim, Thou hast kept the good wine till now.
SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS ON Esther 1:10-12
1. It was certainly the king’s weakness to send for the queen into his presence when drunk.
(1) He dishonoured himself as a husband. He ought to have protected, and not exposed, his wife.
(2) He diminished himself as a king in commanding that from his wife which she might refuse, much to the honour of her virtue.
2. Perhaps it was not her wisdom to deny him.
(1) She refused, though he sent his command by seven honourable messengers.
(2) Had she come, while she did it in pure obedience, it had been no reflection upon her modesty.—M. Henry.
1. Great pleasure is often followed by equally great displeasure.
2. Occasions of joyous feasting commonly end in sorrow.
3. Although beauty is a gift of God, still one should not make a boast of it, nor yet be proud of it.
4. Pride occasions much sorrow, and often plunges into destruction.
Esther 1:12. Therefore was the king very wroth, and his anger burned in him. ANGER. I. THE DEFORMITY OF ANGER. What an ugly thing is anger, dispossessing a man of his soul (which is possessed by patience), and disfiguring his body with fieriness of eyes, furiousness of the looks, distortion of the face, inflammation of the nostrils. The Hebrews call anger Aph, because therein the nose riseth, the colour changeth, the tongue stammereth, the teeth gnash, the hands clasp, the feet stamp, the pulse beats, the heart pants, the whole man swells like a toad, glows like a devil, tormenting himself before his time; whence many heathens have advised the angry man to look at his face in a glass, and so grow ashamed of his distemper.
II. THE DISGRACE OF ANGER. The Holy Ghost hath stigmatized the angry person for a fool in grain, such an one as exalts folly, sets it upon high to be seen of all, and proclaims himself a fool; yea, the worst of fools; for “proud, haughty scorner is his name that dealeth in proud wrath;” that is his title. Thus God loads such a man with disgrace. And whereas he thinks by his big looks and high terms to carry it among men (as Lamech did), when he hath gotten revenge especially; the Apostle purposely disgraceth revenge of injury by a word signifying disgrace, loss of victory, or impotency of mind. And, indeed, it is unmanliness of spirit, and little wit in the head, that causeth a great deal of passion in the heart, as we see in infants and sick people. Thunder, hail, tempest, neither trouble nor hurt the celestial bodies; no more doth anger great minds. The tops of some mountains are said to be so high above the middle region of air, that not so much as the dust of them is moved out of the place from year’s end to year’s end: so is it here. Great spirits and men of understanding are, like the upper region, in a perpetual serenity; or, at least, like the highest planets, that of all the rest are thought to be lowest in course, or like a diamond that is neither bruised nor cut.
III. THE DANGER OF ANGER. It consumes the body; it confounds the soul. Fevers, colics, palsies, pleurisies, apoplexies, inflammation, consumption, are caused by it, while it dries up the radical moisture (that balsam of the body), boils the heart into brine, and, viper-like, makes an end of the owner; who, as he lived undesired, so he dies unlamented, as Nerva, Valentinian, and other choleric kings and persons of great note, who hereby have wrought their own ruth and ruin. And for the poor soul it is indisposed, by unadvised anger, for prayer or any other duty to God or man. He is laid open, like an unwalled city, to many sins, mischiefs, and miseries; temporal, spiritual, and eternal. He that lives and dies in this fury becomes a prey to the furies of hell.—Trapp.
Esther 1:10; Esther 1:12.—What has thus degraded the king? Wine. The king was happy in the obedience of princes, but unhappy in the disobedience of his wife. What a disappointment! He showed the glory of his kingdom, and the honour of his excellent majesty many days; but he also showed that, with all his glory, he could not command a woman. Disputes between husbands and wives are bad at any time, but much worse in the presence of company. Though a mighty king, he was also a poor slave. He drank wine to excess. He issued an unrighteous command. He was carried away by anger. Rich man! Yet how poor, with all thy wealth. A sober slave is more respected, and more to be respected, than a drunken king. “I will not come,” said Vashti; and all the persuasion of the great men could not persuade her. When asked to violate our conscience, let us dare to say, No. If husbands expect obedience from their wives, let them be reasonable in their commands. The guilt of disobedience sometimes rests upon him who issues the command. “Husbands, provoke not your wives to anger.” They have given themselves to and for you. Wives, do not dishonour those husbands who have chosen you before all others. Perhaps Vashti thought, What means this uncouth motion? More than six months hath this feast continued, and all this while we have enjoyed the wanton liberty of our sex. Were the king himself this command could not be sent. It is the wine, and not he, that is guilty of this errand: is it for me to humour him in so vain a desire? Will it agree with our modest reservedness to offer ourselves to be gazed at by millions of eyes? Who knows what wanton attempt may follow upon this ungoverned excess? This very message argues that wit and reason hath yielded their place to that besotting liquor. Vashti refuseth to come.… The blood that is once inflamed with wine is apt to boil with rage. It vexes him to think that those nobles whom he meant to send away astonished with the demonstration of his power and majesty should now say, “What boots it Ahasuerus to rule afar off when he cannot command at home? In vain doth he boast to govern kings, while he is checked by a woman.”—Bishop Hall.
And his anger burned within him; as Nebuchadnezzar’s also did upon a like occasion, hotter than his seven times’ heated oven, or than the mountain Etna doth. Moses’ anger waxed hot in him, so that he knew not well what he did in it, it raised such a smoke. Jonah was ready to burst with anger; his blood boiled at his heart as brimstone doth at the match. Therefore is the heart set so near the lungs, that when it is heated with anger it may be allayed and cooled by the blast and moisture thereof. Josephus saith that he brake off the feast upon this occasion.—Trapp.
We see that God reserves the best for the last. God’s last works are his best works. The new heaven and the new earth are the best; the second wine that Christ created himself was the best; spiritual things are better than natural. A Christian’s last is his best. God will have it so for the comfort of Christians, that every day they live they may think, my best is behind, my best is to come; that every day they rise they may think, I am nearer heaven one day than I was before, I am nearer death, and therefore nearer Christ. What a solace is this to a gracious heart! A Christian is a happy man in his life, but happier in his death, because then he goes to Christ; but happiest of all in heaven, for then he is with Christ. How contrary to a carnal man, that lives according to the sway of his own base lusts! He is miserable in his life, most miserable in his death, but most miserable of all after death. I beseech you lay this to heart. Methinks, considering that death is but a way for us to be with Christ, which is far better, this should sweeten the thinking of death to us, and we should comfort ourselves daily that we are nearer happiness.—Sibbes.
Ahasuerus went from bad to worse, as we all do whenever we fail to practise the self-denial of obedience to God. Pride, luxury, excess in wine, mad upsetting of the first laws of nature, these came first; then followed in its order furious anger, which may do anything. He was stung in the apple of his eye. When I am bringing to so triumphant a finish the pageant planned since I came to the throne, when everybody is thinking how supremely grand I am above all men, to be thus humiliated by a woman! Ah, sire! had you respected yourself you would have been spared all the humiliation.—Symington.
MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH. Esther 1:10-12
VASHTI’S DILEMMA
There are great crises in the history of individuals as well as of nations. An arrestive hand checks our progress. We are compelled to pause and deliberate. Such a crisis had now arrived in the history of Vashti. The great turning-point of her life now appears. The question is, Shall I be unqueenly, and thus remain a queen? or shall I be queenly, and become unqueened? Summon up thy heroism, Vashti; all thy fortitude will now be required.
I. She receives an unkingly message. Doubtless the seven chamberlains would give the king’s message in true courtly style; but even courtly words may indicate unkingly intentions. It was so in this case. Vashti was to leave the company of her guests, and put on the crown royal, which was a high-pointed turban; and consequently she was to appear in entire royal apparel. We may suppose that her person was to be graced with costly robes of splendid colours from the province of Cashmir, and with garments made of the finely-wrought and richly-variegated silks of the Medians. Pearls from the Persian Gulf would flash their varied and chastened colours. Rich jewels would not be wanting to increase the splendour. And gold from the distant parts of the empire would manifest the vastness of the king’s resources, and tend to set forth the charms of the queen’s person. Being purified with oil of myrrh and sweet odours, she would emit a pleasant fragrance by her every motion, as well as display her beauty in new and attractive aspects to the beholders. No purpose was to be served beyond that of showing the people and the princes her beauty. She was to throw aside her self-respect, to divest herself of true queenly attributes, and appear with her face unveiled, in order that the courtly revellers might feast upon her countenance; and thus she was to do that which was abhorrent to an Eastern woman’s sense of propriety. No wonder if her spirit rebelled against such unkingly purposes. The kings of time are cruel to their favourites. At first they may be loaded with honours; but afterwards, if any offence is given, the honours are taken away, and the favourites made to feel that it would have been better for them to have remained in obscurity. A despot’s guests are not to be envied, for the arbitrary and unreasonable nature of his commands may turn their laughter into weeping. But in the long run despots are cruel to themselves. “The merciful man doeth good to his own soul; but he that is cruel troubleth his own flesh.” However, let us remember that the King of heaven is no unreasoning despot. His commandments are not grievous, and are for the highest good of those to whom they are given. The guests at Divine feasts need never fear that he will send unkingly messages. And should they disobey there will be given opportunity for confession and time for amendment. This merciful king bears long and compassionately even with hardened offenders. Blessed indeed are those who serve the King of heaven, and sit down at Divine feasts!
II. She displays a queenly spirit. If Vashti were simply a vain woman,—proud of her mere physical beauty,—it may be fairly conjectured that the desire to display her charms would overpower the spirit of self-assertion, which some suppose to be the explanation of her conduct. This was undoubtedly the one opportunity of her life for reaching the climax of earthly glory. It was indeed a great occasion when womanly vanity would induce compliance; but Vashti rose superior to the seductive prospect. Many of our modern Vashtis would have rushed to the banqueting-hall, and the spirit of self-assertion would not have been allowed to overmaster the spirit of vanity. Not only women, but many men have sacrificed far more than Vashti was called upon to sacrifice in order to obtain a portion even of that applause which would have greeted the queenly beauty had she, with winning smiles and graceful movements, presented herself at the king’s command. But she refused to go, and nobly braved the worst consequences rather than violate her modesty, and appear in public unveiled. For anything we know to the contrary, she may have tried reasonable methods in order to extricate herself from the difficult position. But who can reason with a despot who has been made unreasonable by wine, and whose smallest caprice must not be thwarted? The narrative simply states the result, that she refused to go at the command of the monarch. However, if Vashti’s assailants still persist that she was an arrogant and supercilious beauty,—that she was intoxicated with admiration and with her exalted position,—there is something to admire in that daring spirit which was ready to brave death rather than obey a command which appeared to her unreasonable: for she would know that a Persian monarch’s rage might mean death to the offender. Certainly obedience is due to those in authority; but the command of conscience is superior to the commands of husbands, or of kings. The commands of conscience should be supreme; but there is a danger lest the voice of mere caprice be confounded with the voice of conscience. The commands must be prayerfully and carefully examined. The voices must be tried. Have they a Divine sound? Then all must follow the directions of the all-imperative voice, though it leads to banishment, to spoliation, and even to death.
III. Her queenly spirit was not appreciated. It provoked the wrath of the king, and his anger burned in him. And the courtiers and great ladies did not appear to her defence. There is ever a natural tendency for the strong to oppress the weak. Throughout all ages women have found it difficult to get their due from men. Christianity has been woman’s great elevator and benefactor; and she has been, as is most fitting, its most faithful adherent and propagator. But still woman’s weakness is too often trespassed upon by manly strength. To be on the side of right, if supported by might, excites little or no opposition; but to be on the side of right when it is the side of weakness is to be guilty of folly and of rebellion against constituted authority. Even to this day the inebriated Ahasuerus has his apologists, though they may not mean it; and the unqueened Vashti is followed in her retirement with the pitying sneer of those who assert that she failed because she was not a sagacious woman. The banished Vashtis ought to receive full credit for the heroism of their conduct. Shameful it is that those who profess to believe in persecuted apostles, in slain reformers, and in a crucified Jesus, should always be carefully looking about for some error in conduct, for some failure in policy, in order to account for the non-success of those whom society has banished from its palaces. Not only ancient, but modern critics would account for the beheading of John by the statement that he made a rude and personal attack; for the stoning of Stephen, by the suggestion that he spoke truth in an unpalatable form; for the unpopularity of Paul, that his bodily presence was weak; and for the banishment of Vashti, by the supposition that she was arrogant and unwise in her method of refusal. The Vashtis must be prepared for some depreciation if they resolutely adhere to, and firmly follow, that which they believe to be true, and noble, and virtuous. But this may be their consolation, that time is on their side, and that the Great Supreme accepts sincerity of motive; yes, though the consequent action be not the wisest. For he is not a hard task-master. Let the true-hearted Vashtis rejoice, for their judgment is with God.
SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS ON Esther 1:10-12
“Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging; and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise.” Ahasuerus formerly behaved like a king. His wine, and the vessels in which it was drunk, were royal, according to the state of the king; but now his behaviour is like one of the vain fellows. He boasts of the extraordinary beauty of his wife. In defiance of the manners of the Persians, and of the laws of decency, he will now have her brought into a drunken assembly of princes and peasants for a public show. What is it that has thus degraded the great king? An honest peasant that knows how to guide his affairs, and to govern his family with discretion, is more truly royal than Ahasuerus, exposing his shame before his people. Wine has transformed him from a king to a clown, or something below a clown. It is said, that the Spartans used to compel their slaves to intoxicate themselves, that they might show them in their cups to their children, and thus produce in their minds a perpetual detestation of this worse than beastly vice. You have no occasion to bring drunken men into the presence of your children. Scripture gives you pictures of this vice sufficient for your admonition and theirs. It is plain from the instance before us, that a sober slave is more respectable than a drunken king.
She was fair to look upon, and all the princes and people must, for once, be gratified with a sight of her shining countenance, that they might admire the king’s happiness in the possession of such unrivalled beauty. Vain man! Did he not know that the most glorious beauty of the human face as of the visible creation, is but a fading flower? Still less did he know, that this beauty, in a day’s time, would be no longer his property, and that he would lose the possession of it by his own folly. Let those who have wives, however beautiful, be as though they had them not; for the fashion of this world passeth away.
Vashti had good reason to beg to be excused from appearing in a company where too many were merry with wine. She is too often imitated by women who have promised obedience to their husbands. They will allege, that the meaning of their promise was that they were to obey their husbands in all reasonable things. If by reasonable things they meant things in which they could give obedience with a good conscience, the limitation would be very proper. But a more frequent meaning which they have for the expression is, things which please their own humours. If these only are the matters in which they are disposed to yield obedience, the promise ought never to have been made; for whenever they conform themselves to their own humours, rather than to the known will of their husbands, they break a solemn promise.
If husbands expect due obedience from their wives, let them be always reasonable in their commands. You see, that all the authority of the greatest king in the world could not make Vashti obedient to a foolish command. She will rather encounter the king’s wrath; and “the wrath of a king is like messengers of death.”
Therefore was the king very wroth, and his anger burned in him. He was confounded and shocked at the unexpected disappointment. He hoped to show to all his people and princes in Shushan how happy he was, and only showed them his misery.—Rev. G. Lawson.
Then took place the succession of violent scenes, so thoroughly characteristic of Oriental despotism, but which to the Hebrew historian was so familiarized, that they appear to fill him rather with admiration than astonishment and horror—the order for the queen to unveil herself—contrary to the immemorial usage of Persia, and therefore the sure sign of the king’s omnipotence—before the assembled court, the rage of the king at her refusal, and her instantaneous divorce. In the annual Persian representation of the tragedy of the sons of Ali, an English ambassador is brought as begging their lives; and to mark his nationality a boy dressed up as an unveiled woman accompanies him as the ambassadress.—Stanley’s Jewish Church and Note.
The queen refused to appear at the king’s command as delivered by the eunuchs, because she did not choose to stake her dignity as a queen and a wife before his inebriated guests. The audacity of Persians in such a condition is evident from history.—Keil.
While Ahasuerus was intent to show how far the limits of his empire extended, by calling to his court the governors of the most distant provinces, he found in close proximity, yea, in his very house, insubordination to his will. Though he knew how to punish it, yet he could not conquer it, nor turn it into obedience to his wishes. There is, therefore, a power higher than that of man, were he even the mightiest ruler of earth. To disobey human commands may be dangerous, may bring temporal disadvantage, but to despise God’s laws is degrading, and will bring eternal ruin.—Lange.
MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH. Esther 1:13-14
THE SEVEN WISE MEN
“Where shall wisdom be found, and where is the place of understanding?” At first sight we may naturally look for it in the palaces of kings, for they have the opportunity of gathering round them the choicest spirits in the realm. They have money at their command; and money answereth all things. The wise man’s wisdom is too often a mere article of barter, and is sold to the highest bidder. The prospect of money sometimes causes the wise man to prostitute his wisdom to foolish purposes. But the wisdom of courtiers is not always directed by highest moral motives. The wisdom may be great, but the moral power weak. True wisdom is oftener found in lowly hearts and true. A poor wise man may by his wisdom deliver the city; and yet no man remember that same poor man. Poverty has its drawbacks. Little wisdom counts for much where there is much wealth, sounding titles, and an exalted position.
I. The character of these wise men. In general we may say that they were men of learning and men of business. Observation was joined with meditation to the extension of their knowledge. They were not mere bookworms, but studied men and things. They might judge the times by heavenly phenomena as astrologers; but, like the princes of Issachar, they also may have been “men who knew the times, what Israel ought to do.” The perfectly wise man must study men as well as books. It is well to know human law and judgment; it is better to know Divine law. “The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul.” This defines the nature of true wisdom. “Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil, that is understanding.”
II. The favour granted to these wise men. Ancient kings preserved their dignity by exclusiveness. Only a few were admitted to familiar intercourse. These wise men saw the king’s face. This earth’s grandest King frequented the thronged highways. He was the guest of publicans and of sinners. His greatness was not dependent upon the pomp of circumstances. His royalty could stand the rude stare of the multitude. The eye of faith, though possessed by the lowliest, may still see the face of heaven’s King. “The pure in heart shall see, and do see, God.”
III. The exalted position occupied by these wise men. They sat the first in the kingdom. Many would regard them with envy. But highest seats are not always the most pleasant. Golden chairs may be uneasy; silken couches may have their pricking thorns. A wise man may sit the first in the kingdom to-day, and tomorrow he may be elevated to the gallows on which Haman was hung. Lofty seats are dizzy and dangerous places. Christ’s spiritual kingdom affords safe and pleasant seats for all its subjects.
IV. The noble qualities of these wise men were ignobly used. They knew the times, so as to trim their sails to the best advantage for themselves. Their wisdom was a mere marketable commodity. It was ready to be used anyhow for the procuring of either wealth, or place, or power. They knew law and judgment, but they knew that what was law for the despot was not law for the oppressed subject. Prudence is a virtue; but prudence may be degraded into mere timeserving policy. There is a wisdom which dares to do right, and brave all consequences.
V. The vision with which these men were favoured had no transforming power. They saw the king’s face, but did not catch the inspiriting influence of a mighty soul. There must have been in that wide realm faces better worth seeing than that of the weak-minded despot. We cannot gather from this account that these wise men were any nobler for this favoured vision. The face of heaven’s King has transforming power. Its light dispels the darkness of humanity; its Divine influences rain down and change the very faces of beholders. “But we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.” The likeness is being now and here fashioned. Each Christian’s face should bear the impress of royalty. Christians too should emit transforming and purifying influences.
VI. The exalted position occupied by these wise men was not employed for the advantage of the oppressed. Where is the use of being great if we cannot use our greatness to help the little? High seats should be occupied not for self-glorification, but to lift up our fellows out of the pits of wretchedness. We do not read that these men bent from their proud positions to rescue a condemned woman—condemned before she had been heard, and banished without an opportunity of saying a word in justification of her conduct. Surely it is better to err on the side of mercy. Let those in high places consider the weaknesses and the awful temptations of those in low places.
SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS ON Esther 1:13-14
Whereshould the perfection of wisdom be, if not in the courts of great princes? or what can the treasuries of monarchs purchase more valuably precious than learned and judicious attendance? or what can be so fit for honour as the wisest? These were his oracles in all his doubts; these are now consulted in this difficulty. Neither must their advice be secretly whispered in the king’s ear, but publicly delivered in the audience of all the princes. It is a perilous way that these sages are called to go, betwixt a husband and wife, especially of such power and eminency.—Bishop Hall.
As he had seven chamberlains to execute his orders, so he had seven counsellors to direct his orders. The greater power a man hath, the greater need he hath for advice, that he may not abuse his power.—M. Henry.
Of these Persian privy counsellors it is said—
1. That they were wise men.
2. They were skilful in the times, that is, well versed in histories, and well furnished with experiences.
3. That they knew the laws, which they had ready, and at their fingers’ ends, as we say.
4. They also knew judgment, that is, equity and moderation, without which utmost right might be utmost wrong, as, indeed, it proved in the case in hand.—Trapp.
Which knew the times. The good man can say, like the psalmist, “My times are in thy hand.” “The sovereign Arbiter of destiny holds in his own power all the issues of our life; we are not waifs and strays upon the ocean of fate, but are steered by infinite wisdom toward our desired haven. Providence is a soft pillow for anxious heads, an anodyne for care, a grave for despair.”
Esther 1:14. The kings of Persia did not suffer themselves to be seen by all persons on all occasions. These were a favoured few. But all that love the Lord shall see the “King’s face” in heaven. That will be a happy sight. The sorrows of life will then be past; death will then be destroyed; heaven and all its joys will be ours for ever.
Which sat the first in the kingdom. A great privilege which depended upon wealth, and upon the favour of the king. They who sit with Christ in his kingdom will have no title because of earthly position. It will be because of goodness, and the grace and mercy which saves us.—Rev. C. Leach, F.G.S.
He that would mount cares not what attendance he dances at all hours, upon whose stairs he sits waiting, what enormities he soothes, what deformities he imitates, what base offices he does prostrate himself to, so he may rise. The poor man envies the great for his honour; the great perhaps envies the poor more for his peace, for as he lives obscurely, so securely. He that rightly knows the many public and more secret vexations incident to honour would not, as that king said of his crown, stoop to take it up, though it lay at his feet before him. When the Lord hath set thee up as high as Haman in the court of Ahasuerus, or promoted thee to ride with Joseph in the second chariot of Egypt; were thy stock of cattle exceeding Job’s; did thy wardrobe put down Solomon’s, and thy cupboard of plate Belshazzar’s when the vessels of God’s temple were the ornature; yet all these are but the gifts of Wisdom’s left hand, and the possessors may be under the malediction of God.
How many rich merchants have suddenly lost all! how many noblemen sold all! how many wealthy heirs spent all! Few Sundays pass over our heads without collections for shipwrecks, fires, and other casualties; demonstrative proofs that prosperity is inconstant, riches casual. And for honour, we read that Belisarius, an honourable peer of the empire, was forced in his old age to beg from door to door. Frederic, a great emperor, was so low brought that he sued to be made but the sexton of a church.—Adams.
“A great English writer has pictured an imaginary character as having a sweet look of goodness, which drew out all that was good in others. There must have been some such Divine attraction to the poor and outcast in the looks and whole person of our Lord.”—Geikie. This King’s face has not only a sweet look of goodness, but a transforming power of goodness. To see aright this King’s face is not only to have our goodness drawn out, but to have the badness expelled, and fresh goodness imparted. By the process of devoutly and lovingly gazing we are experiencing the process of being changed into the same Divine image.
MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE WHOLE CHAPTER
This book presents us with impressive views of man with and without grace; of the great instability of human affairs; of the sovereign power, justice, and faithfulness of the Supreme Being. We now call your attention to the first chapter.
I. The king of Persia at this time was Ahasuerus. Commentators differ about him. He was a heathen—a stranger to God—possessing extensive dominions. His was the second of the four great empires. These empires have come to nought; but, brethren, there is a kingdom which passeth not away. Its King will remain in heaven for ever. Let us be numbered among its subjects.
II. This mighty potentate, Ahasuerus, wished to make a display of his greatness: made a feast—the power of Media and Persia present—he exhibited his riches, and honour, and glory. Notice his pride. Beware of pride. Pray that you may habitually remember what you are—poor, fallen sinners.
III. At this feast, though a heathen one, moderation was observed. “And the drinking was according to law: none did compel.” Intemperance is an abomination and a degradation; hence we should flee from it.
IV. But though the feast of Ahasuerus was free from the disgrace of compelling the guests to proceed to drunkenness, yet did very evil consequences result from it. It is but seldom that such meetings are free from such consequences. We read of Belshazzar’s feast; we read of Herod’s feast. In such entertainments God is liable to be forgotten. Solomon, who with extraordinary diligence, and unparalleled success, had examined and tried the sources of all earthly gratification, tells us, in language which ought never to be out of remembrance, that “it is better to go to the house of mourning than the house of feasting.”
V. Let us consider the evil which was occasioned by the feast.—The king ordered the queen to be brought. She refused to come. The wrath of the king was kindled. The result was a council, then the divorcement of the queen. Quarrels, animosities, and heart-burnings are so contrary to that religion of love which a received gospel generates, that we ought to strive to the utmost for the preservation of the opposite virtues. Christ is the Prince of Peace; let us not only trust in his death for salvation, but imitate his meekness and lowliness of heart.
Two short remarks shall close this discourse:—
1. It behoveth us to lead excellent lives, and the higher we are placed in the community the more ought this to be the object of our ambition. Let our lives be continual sermons to those among whom we live.
2. It behoveth us to regard the duties which appertain to the relations of life in which we are placed. “Brethren, let every man wherein he is called, therein abide with God.”—Hughes.
I. The vast extent of the Persian empire. It comprehended all the countries from the river Indus on the east to the Mediterranean on the west; and from the Black Sea and Caspian in the north to the extreme south of Arabia, then called Ethiopia. This gigantic dominion was divided into 127 provinces or governments, each of which was placed under a satrap, or, in modern language, a pasha, who managed its affairs, and annually transmitted a certain sum as revenue to the king. The seat of government was variable, according to the season of the year, the summer months being spent by the court at Ecbatana, and the winter months at Susa, or, as it is called in this chapter, Shushan, the palace. The form of government in the East has from the earliest times been despotic, one man swaying the destinies of millions, and having under him a crowd of smaller despots, each in his more limited sphere oppressing the people subjected to his rule.
1. Despotism has its occasional fits of generosity and kindness. It is as kind-hearted that Ahasuerus is brought before you in the early part of this chapter. He was spending the winter months at Susa. The retinue of the monarch was vast, and the fountains and gardens were on a scale of grandeur which we cannot well conceive. There, then, the king, but little concerned about the welfare of his subjects, was spending his time, chiefly in selfish ease and unbounded revelry. To him it was of no moment how his people were oppressed by those whom he set over them; his sole concern was to enjoy his pleasures.
2. With all the luxury and temptation to self-indulgence, there was no compulsion employed to draw any one beyond the bounds of temperance. The law was good, but the king himself had too largely used the liberty, and hence his loss of self-control and all sense of propriety. When heated with wine he sent for Vashti, &c. Lessons suggested are—
(1) Extravagancies and follies into which men are betrayed by intemperance.
(2) That which dethrones reason and destroys intellect should surely be avoided.
(3) All the consequences which affect the man individually, and others also, rest upon the head of the transgressor.
(4) Intemperance (a) blots out distinction between right and wrong; (b) foments all the evil passions of the natural heart; (c) destroys the proper exercise of the power of the will; (d) and often inflicts grievous wounds upon the innocent, as the case of Vashti here already demonstrates.
(5) The necessity of guarding against these evils.
II. The evils which arose from the peculiar family arrangements of those countries. We take occasion here to observe two great evils:—
1. The condition of the female sex was that of degradation. The married woman was not really what the Divine institution intended her to be, the true companion and friend of her husband. She was kept in a state of seclusion, real freedom she knew not; she was, in truth, only a slave, having power to command some other slaves. She was without education, and generally unintelligent, frivolous, and heartless. She was guarded with zealous care, as if she had been very precious, but at the same time she was wholly dependent upon the caprices of her lord.
2. Yet, strangely enough, in the second place, it is to be noticed that, as if to afford evidence that the law of nature cannot be trampled upon with impunity, it very frequently happened that the female influence was felt by the despotic husband, so as to make him in reality the slave. Not conscious of it, but imagining that he held the place of absolute authority, he was himself governed; yet not through the power of real affection, but through the imbecile doting which constituted all that he knew of real affection. Common history abounds with illustrations of this fact, and in the sacred history we have examples of the same kind; David, Solomon, and Ahab are instances. There is never a violation of God’s righteous appointments, but it is followed by some penalty. From this Book of Esther, it appears very obviously that Ahasuerus, with all his caprices and his stern, imperious self-will, was at first completely under the influence of Vashti, as he afterwards came to be under that of Esther. The whole domestic system being unnaturally constructed, there was, of necessity, derangements in the conducting of it. The despot might be one day all tenderness and submission, and the next day he might, to gratify his humour, exact from his slaves what, a short time afterwards, he would have counted it absolutely wrong in himself to command, and punishable in them to do.
III. The degradation of Vashti. We have to look at the circumstances which are brought before us in the narrative. At a season when sound counsel could scarcely have been expected, and when he who sought it was not in a fit condition to profit by it, the serious question was proposed by the king, “What shall be done to Vashti?” &c. To defer the consideration of so grave a subject to a more fitting season would have been so clearly the path which a wise counsellor would have recommended, that we feel astonished that it was not at once suggested. But the wrath of the king was so strongly exhibited that his compliant advisers did not venture to contradict him. “Memucan answered,” &c. Now, with respect to this opinion of the chief counsellor, it may be observed that it was based upon a principle which in itself is unquestionably right, although there was a wrong application made of it. Rank and station, while they command a certain measure of respect, involve very deep responsibility. Fashions and maxims usually go downward from one class of society to another. Customs, adopted by the higher orders as their rule, gradually make their way until at length they pervade all ranks. Thus far Memucan spoke wisely, when he pointed to the example of the queen as that which would certainly have an influence, wherever it came to be known, throughout the empire. But the principle, in the present instance, was wrongly applied when it was made the ground of condemning the conduct of Vashti. The design was to make her appear guilty of an act of insubordination, which it was necessary for the king to punish, if he would promote the good of his subjects, whereas, in reality, she had upon her side all the authority of law and custom, and was to be made the victim both of the ungovernable wrath of the king, who was beside himself with wine, and also of flatterers who, to gratify him, would do wrong to the innocent. See here the danger of flattery.
Let us extract some practical lessons from our subject.
1. The inadequacy of all earthly good to make man truly happy. Surveying the whole scene portrayed in the early verses of this chapter, we might imagine that the sovereign who ruled over this empire, upon whose nod the interests of so many millions depended, and for whose pleasure the product of so many various climes could be gathered together, had surely all the elements of enjoyment at his command.… And yet we must say that the mightiest sovereign of his time, with 127 provinces subject to him, with princes serving him, and slaves kissing the dust at his feet, was not half so happy as the humblest individual here, who knows what is meant by the comforts of home, where he is in the midst of those who love him.
2. A few remarks may be offered upon the domestic question here settled by the king and his counsellors, as to the supremacy of man in his own house. How could they pronounce a sound judgment upon a question which their customs prevented them from rightly knowing?
3. We have in the text a law spoken of which changeth not. And, my friends, there is such a law, but it is not the law of the Medes and Persians, it is the law of the Eternal. Jehovah’s law changeth not. And what does it say? “This do and live.” “Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things written in the book of the law to do them.” That seals us all up under wrath. But we turn the page, and we read and see that “Christ is the end of the law for righteousness.” And is not this our conclusion, then—“I will flee from the curse of the immutable law, and shelter myself under the righteousness of Christ, which is also perfect and immutable, that through him and from him I may have mercy and eternal life”?—Dr. Davidson.
ILLUSTRATIONS TO CHAPTER 1
Power. Pompey boasted, that, with one stamp of his foot, he could rouse all Italy to arms; with one scratch of his pen, Ahasuerus could call to his assistance the forces of 127 provinces; but God, by one word of his mouth, one movement of his will, can summon the inhabitants of heaven, earth, and the undiscovered worlds to his aid, or bring new creatures into being to do his will.
Dignity. A French doctor once taunted Flechier, Bishop of Nismes, who had been a tallow-chandler in his youth, with the meanness of his origin; to which he replied, “If you had been born in the same condition that I was, you would still have been but a maker of candles.”
Great men. Columbus was the son of a weaver, and a weaver himself. Cervantes was a common soldier. Homer was the son of a small farmer. Demosthenes was the son of a cutler. Terence was a slave. Oliver Cromwell was the son of a London brewer. Howard was an apprentice to a grocer. Franklin was a journeyman printer, and son of a tallow-chandler and soap-boiler. Dr. Thomas, Bishop of Worcester, was the son of a linen-draper. Daniel Defoe was a hostler, and son of a butcher. Whitfield was the son of an innkeeper at Gloucester. Virgil was the son of a porter. Horace was the son of a shopkeeper. Shakespeare was the son of a woolstapler. Milton was the son of a money scrivener. Robert Burns was a ploughman in Ayrshire. Yet all these rose to eminence.
How to make a feast. “Lord Chief Justice Hall frequently invited his poor neighbours to dinner, and made them sit at table with himself. If any of them were sick, so that they could not come, he would send provisions to them warm from his table.”
Favour of God. It was the saying of a wise Roman, “I had rather have the esteem of the Emperor Augustus than his gifts;” for he was an honourable, understanding prince, and his favour very honourable. When Cyrus gave one of his friends a kiss, and another a wedge of gold, he that had the gold envied him that had the kiss as a greater expression of his favour. So the true Christian prefers the privilege of acceptance with God to the possession of any earthly comfort, for in the light of his countenance is life, and his favour is as the cloud of the latter rain.—Butler.
Pride of wealth. Alcibiades was one day boasting of his wealth and great estate, when Socrates placed a map before him, and asked him to find Attica. It was insignificant on the map; but he found it. “Now,” said the philosopher, “point out your own estate.” “It is too small to be distinguished in so little a space,” was the answer. “See, then!” said Socrates, “how much you are affected about an imperceptible point of land.”
Your bags of gold should be ballast in your vessel to keep her always steady, instead of being topsails to your masts to make your vessel giddy. Give me that distinguished person, who is rather pressed down under the weight of all his honours, than puffed up with the blast thereof. It has been observed by those who are experienced in the sport of angling, that the smallest fishes bite the fastest. Oh, how few great men do we find so much as nibbling at the gospel book.—Seeker.
Abuse of wealth. I am no advocate for meanness of private habitation. I would fain introduce into it all magnificence, care, and beauty, when they are possible; but I would not have that useless expense in unnoticed fineries or formalities—cornicing of ceilings, and graining of doors, and fringing of curtains, and thousands of such things—which have become foolishly and apathetically habitual.… I speak from experience: I know what it is to live in a cottage with a deal floor and roof, and a hearth of mica slate; I know it to be in many respects healthier and happier than living between a Turkey carpet and a gilded ceiling, beside a steel grate and polished fender. I do not say that such things have not their place and propriety; but I say this emphatically, that a tenth part of the expense which is sacrificed in domestic vanities, if not absolutely and meaninglessly lost in domestic comforts and encumbrances, would, if collectively afforded and wisely employed, build a marble church for every town in England.—Ruskin.
Danger. “A boy climbing among the Alps saw some flowers on the verge of a precipice, and sprang forward to get them. The guide shouted his warnings; but the heedless boy grasped the flowers, and fell a thousand feet upon the rocks below with them in his hand. It was a dear price for such frail things, but he is not the only victim of such folly.”
Danger of prosperity. When Crates threw his gold into the sea, he cried out, Ego perdam te, ne tu perdas me, that is, “I will destroy you, lest you should destroy me.” Thus, if the world be not put to death here, it will put us to death hereafter. Then we shall say, as Cardinal Wolsey, when discarded by his prince and abandoned to the fury of his enemies: “If I had served my God as faithfully as my king, he would not have thus forsaken me.” Poor man! all the perfumes on earth are unable to prevail over the stench of hell.—Secker.
In a long sunshine of outward prosperity, the dust of our inward corruptions is apt to fly about and lift itself up. Sanctified affliction, like seasonable rain, lays the dust, and softens the soul.—Salter.
When fire is put to green wood there comes out abundance of watery stuff that before appeared not; when the pond is empty, the mud, the filth, and toads come to light. The snow covers many a dunghill, so doth prosperity many a rotten heart. It is easy to wade in a warm bath, and every bird can sing in a sunshiny day. Hard weather tries what health we have; afflictions try what sap we have, what grace we have. Withered leaves soon fall off in windy weather, rotten boughs quickly break with heavy weights, &c.—Brooks.
Some of you glory in your shame, that you have drunk down your companions, and carried it away—the honour of a sponge or a tub, which can drink up or hold liquor as well as you.—Baxter.
We commend wine for the excellency of it; but if it could speak, as it can take away speech, it would complain that, by our abuse, both the excellencies are lost; for the excellent man doth so spoil the excellent wine, until the excellent wine hath spoiled the excellent man. Oh, that a man should take pleasure in that which makes him no man; that he should let a thief in at his mouth to steal away his wit; that for a little throat indulgence he should kill in himself both the first Adam—his reason, and even the second Adam—his regeneration, and so commit two murders at once.—Adams.
An earnest young minister was in the house of a rich friend. He was pressed to take wine, but refused. It was again pressed upon him. At length he yielded to their importunities, and drank a little. Gradually he formed a liking for wine, and at length began taking far too much. By degrees, and almost before he was aware of it, he became a drunkard. He was degraded from his office of the ministry, and sank lower and lower. Years after he had been pressed to drink by his rich friend, he came again to his door; this time to beg for a little food, and was ordered away as a drunken vagabond.
Joseph Ralston, of Philipsburg, Penn., met with a horrible death by freezing. He had been drinking freely, and had, while drunk, to wade the Moshandoo Creek; but, ere he proceeded two-thirds of the way, his limbs refused to perform their office. He grasped a bough of an overhanging tree, unable to advance farther; and soon the fast-congealing water cemented close about him—a tomb of ice which stretched from shore to shore. Two days after he was found there rigid as an icicle, his knees embedded in a sheet of the frozen element seven inches thick, his body inclined a little forwards, his hands clutching the boughs, eyes astare, and despair pictured on his features.—Pittsburgh Despatch.
God trieth men’s love to him by their keeping his commandments. It was the aggravation of the first sin that they would not deny so small a thing as the forbidden fruit, in obedience to God! And so it is of thine, that will not leave a forbidden cup for him. O miserable wretch! dost thou not know thou canst not be Christ’s disciple if thou forsake not all for him, and hate not even thy life in comparison of him, and wouldst die rather than forsake him? And thou like to lay down thy life for him, who wilt not leave a cup of drink for him? Canst thou burn at a stake for him, that canst not leave an alehouse, or vain company, or excess, for him? What a sentence of condemnation dost thou pass upon thyself!—Baxter.
Not in the day of thy drunkenness only dost thou undergo the harm of drunkenness, but also after that day. And as when a fever is passed by, the mischievous consequences of the fever remain, so also when drunkenness is passed, the disturbance of intoxication is whirling round both body and soul. And while the wretched body lies paralyzed, like the hull of a vessel after a shipwreck, the soul, yet more miserable than it, even when this is ended, stirs up the storm and kindles desire; and when one seems to be sober, then most of all is he mad, imagining to himself wine and casks, cups and goblets.—Chrysostom.
“If you have glutted yourselves with worldly pleasures, it is no wonder that you should find an unsavoury taste in spiritual delights. Doves that are already filled find cherries bitter.”—J. Lyth, D.D.
Bountiful King. The Lord, like a most bountiful king, will be angry if any man will ask a small thing at his hands; because he had rather give things of great worth than of small value. His goodness is infinite.—Powell.
Fulness of Christ. I have found it an interesting thing to stand at the edge of a noble rolling river, and to think, that although it has been flowing on for 6000 years, watering the fields, and slaking the thirst of a hundred generations, it shows no sign of waste or want. And when I have watched the rise of the sun as he shot above the crest of the mountain, or, in a sky draped with golden curtains, sprang up from his ocean bed, I have wondered to think that he has melted the snows of so many winters, and renewed the verdure of so many springs, and planted the flowers of so many summers, and ripened the golden harvest of so many autumns, and yet shines as brilliantly as ever; his eye not dim, nor his natural strength abated, nor his floods of lightness fail, for centuries of boundless profusion. Yet what are these but images of the fulness that is in Christ! Let that feed your hopes, and cheer your hearts, and brighten your faith, and send you away this day happy and rejoicing! For when judgment flames have licked up that flowing stream, and the light of that glorious sun shall be quenched in darkness, or veiled in the smoke of a burning world, the fulness of Christ shall flow on through eternity in the bliss of the redeemed. Blessed Saviour! Image of God! Divine Redeemer! In thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. What thou hast gone to heaven to prepare, may we be called up at death to enjoy!—Dr. Guthrie.
Wife. “And now let us see whether the word ‘wife’ has not a lesson. It literally means a weaver. The wife is the person who weaves. Before our great cotton and cloth factories arose, one of the principal employments in every house was the fabrication of clothing: every family made its own. The wool was spun into threads by the girls, who were therefore called spinsters; the thread was woven into cloth by their mother, who, accordingly, was called the weaver, or the wife; and another remnant of this old truth we discover in the word ‘heirloom,’ applied to any old piece of furniture which has come down to us from our ancestors, and which, though it may be a chair or bed, shows that a loom was an important article in every house. Thus the word ‘wife’ means weaver; and, as Trench well remarks, ‘in the word itself is wrapped up a hint of earnest, indoor, stay-at-home occupation, as being fitted for her who bears the name.’ ”
Pleasures. The pleasures of the world surfeit with satisfying, while heavenly pleasures satisfy without surfeiting. The surfeited nature of the sensualist requires a constantly increasing stimulus to rouse his used-up powers, but with each advance in Christian enjoyment there is an increased power to appreciate heavenly joys. The pleasures of the world are like the kiss of Judas, given but to betray; the pleasures of heaven make the soul bright and beautiful, as when the face of Moses was transformed by the vision of God.—J. G. Pilkington.
Pleasures. Pleasures, like the rose, are sweet, but prickly; the honey doth not countervail the sting; all the world’s delights are vanity, and end in vexation; like Judas, while they kiss, they betray. I would neither be a stone nor an epicure; allow of no pleasure, nor give way to all; they are good sauce, but naught to make a meal of. I may use them sometimes for digestion, never for food.—Henshaw.
Price of pleasure. Goethe, in his “Faust,” introduces for his hero a student longing for the pleasures of knowledge. The devil appears, to seduce him from his pursuit; Faust is to have all possible sensual enjoyment in life, but is to pay for it by yielding his soul to the devil at last. At the end, Mephistopheles, jealous of his claim, appears and carries off his victim, the student’s lost soul.
Anger. I am naturally as irritable as any; but when I find anger, or passion, or any other evil temper, arise in my mind, immediately I go to my Redeemer, and, confessing my sins, I give myself up to be managed by him.—Clarke.
Anger subdued. Two good men on some occasion had a warm dispute; and remembering the exhortation of the Apostle, “Let not the sun go down upon your wrath,” just before sunset one of them went to the other, and knocking at the door, his offended friend came and opened it, and seeing who it was, started back in astonishment and surprise; the other, at the same time, cried out, “The sun is almost down.” This unexpected salutation softened the heart of his friend into affection, and he returned for answer, “Come in, brother, come in.” What a happy method of conciliating matters, of redressing grievances, and of reconciling brethren!—Arvine.
Hypocrisy. A very capital painter in London exhibited a piece representing a friar habited in his canonicals. View the painting at a distance, and you would think the friar to be in a praying attitude: his hands are clasped together and held horizontally to his breast, his eyes meekly demissed like those of the publican in the gospel: and the good man appears to be quite absorbed in humble adoration and devout recollection. But take a nearer survey, and the deception vanishes; the book which seemed to be before him is discovered to be a punch-bowl, into which the wretch is all the while in reality only squeezing a lemon. How lively a representation of a hypocrite!—Salter.
Idols. A man’s idol is not necessarily an image of gold; it may be a child of clay, the fruit of his own loins, or the wife of his bosom; it may be wealth, fame, position, success, or business—anything which absorbs unduly the affections and attention. Against all such the Almighty pronounces the decree: “Thou shalt have no other gods before me,” and hurls his resistless missiles of destruction. Either ourselves or our idols must be destroyed.
Idolatry! You cannot find any more gross, any more cruel, on the broad earth, than within the area of a mile around this pulpit. Dark minds, from which God is obscured; deluded souls, whose fetish is the dice-box or the bottle; apathetic spirits, steeped in sensual abomination, unmoved by a moral ripple, soaking in the swamp of animal vitality; false gods, more hideous, more awful than Moloch or Baal, worshipped with shrieks, worshipped with curses, with the hearthstone for the bloody altar, and the drunken husband for the immolating priest, and women and children for the victims.—Dr. Chapin.
Loss of time. We are doomed to suffer a bitter pang as often as the irrevocable flight of our time is brought home with keenness to our hearts. The spectacle of the lady floating over the sea in a boat, and waking suddenly from sleep to find her magnificent ropes of pearl necklace by some accident detached from its fastening at one end, the loose string hanging down into the water, and pearl after pearl slipping off for ever into the abyss, brings before us the sadness of the case. That particular pearl which at the very moment is rolling off into the unsearchable deep, carries its own separate reproach to the lady’s heart, but is more deeply reproachful as the representative of so many other uncounted pearls that have already been swallowed up irrecoverably while yet she was sleeping, of many, besides, that must follow before any remedy can be applied to what we may call this jewelly hemorrhage.
The intrepid judge. One of the favourites of Henry V., when Prince of Wales, having been indicted for some misdemeanour, was condemned, notwithstanding all the interest he could make in his favour, and the prince was so incensed at the issue of the trial that he struck the judge on the bench. The magistrate, whose name was Sir William Gascoigne, acted with a spirit becoming his character. He instantly ordered the prince to be committed to prison, and young Henry, sensible by this time of the insult he had offered to the laws of his country, suffered himself to be quietly conducted to jail by the officers of justice. The king, Henry IV., who was an excellent judge of mankind, was no sooner informed of this transaction, than he cried out in a transport of joy, “Happy is the king who has a magistrate possessed of courage to execute the laws, and still more happy in having a son who will submit to such chastisement.”—Arvine.
Flattery. The coin most current among mankind is flattery: the only benefit of which is, that, by hearing what we are not, we may learn what we ought to be.
Whitfield, when flattered, said, “Take care of fire: I carry powder about me.”
A flattering priest told Constantine the Great that his virtues deserved the empire of the world here, and to reign with the Son of God hereafter. The emperor cried, “Fie, fie, for shame; let me hear no more such unseemly speeches; but, rather, suppliantly pray to my Almighty Maker, that, in this life and the life to come, I may be reckoned worthy to be his servant.”
Excuses. He that does amiss never lacks excuse. Any excuse will serve when one has not a mind to do a thing. The archer that shoots ill has a lie ready. He that excuses himself accuses himself. A bad workman always complains of his tools.
Wicked counsel. A young man devoted himself to a religious life. His ungodly parents sent him many letters to dissuade him. Being fully decided to go on in his chosen course, when any letters came addressed to him he threw them into the fire at once, without opening them. When friends and kindred stand between us and Christ, they must be disregarded.
Sin. Sin is like the little serpent aspis, which stings men, whereby they fall into a pleasant sleep, and in that sleep die.—Swinnock.
Envy. We shall find it in Cain, the proto-murderer, who slew his brother at the instigation of envy. We shall find in the dark, and gloomy, and revengeful spirit of Saul, who, under the influence of envy, plotted for years the slaughter of David. We shall find it in the king of Israel, when he pined for the vineyard of Naboth, and shed his blood to gain it. Yes; it was envy that perpetrated that most atrocious crime ever planned in hell or executed on earth, on which the sun refused to look, and at which nature gave signs of abhorrence by the rending of the rocks—I mean the crucifixion of Christ, for the evangelist tells us that for envy the Jews delivered our Lord.—J. A. James.
The poets imagined that envy dwelt in a dark cave; being pale and lean-looking as guilt, abounding with gall, her teeth black, never rejoicing but in the misfortunes of others; ever unquiet and careful, and continually tormenting herself.—Wit.
Friendship. True friendship can only be made between true men. Hearts are the soul of honour. There can be no lasting friendship between bad men. Bad men may pretend to love each other; but their friendship is a rope of sand, which shall be broken at any convenient season. But if a man have a sincere heart within him, and be true and noble, then we may confide in him.—Spurgeon.
Ingratitude. A petted soldier of the Macedonian army was shipwrecked, and east upon the shore apparently lifeless. A hospitable Macedonian discovered him, revived him, took him to his home, and treated him in a princely manner, and, when he departed, gave him money for his journey. The rescued soldier expressed warm thanks, and promised royal bounty to his benefactor. Instead, when he came before Philip, he related his own misfortunes, and asked to be rewarded by the lands and house of his rescuer. His request was granted, and he returned, and drove out his former host. The latter hastened to lay the true state before the king; when he restored the land, and caused the soldier to be branded in the forehead, “The Ungrateful Guest,” as the reward of his baseness.
Conscience wakeful. Though in many men conscience sleeps in regard to motion, yet it never sleeps in regard to observation and notice. It may be hard and seared, it can never be blind. Like letters written with the juice of lemon, that which is written upon it, though seemingly invisible and illegible, when brought before the fire of God’s judgment, shall come forth clear and expressive.—M‘Cosh.
Guilty conscience. It gives a terrible form and a horrible voice to everything beautiful and musical without. Let Byron describe its anguish, for who felt it more than he?—
“The mind that broods o’er guilty woes
Is like the scorpion girt by fire;
In circle narrowing as it glows,
The flames around their captive close,
Till inly searched by thousand throes,
And maddening in her ire,
One sad and sole relief she knows—
The sting she nourished for her foes;
Whose venom never yet was vain,
Gives but one pang, and cures all pain,
And darts into her desperate brain;
So do the dark in soul expire,
Or live like scorpion girt with fire.
So writhes the mind remorse has riven,
Unfit for earth, undoomed for heaven,
Darkness above, despair beneath,
Around it flame, within it death.”
Forgiveness. As the prince or ruler only has power to forgive treason in his subjects, so God only has power to forgive sin. As no man can forgive a debt only the creditor to whom the debt is due, so God only can forgive us our debts, whose debtors we are to an incalculable amount. But we know that he is always ready to forgive. “He keeps mercy for thousands, and pardons iniquity, transgression, and sin.”
Forgiveness. In a school in Ireland, one boy struck another, and when he was about to be punished, the injured boy begged for his pardon. The master asked. “Why do you wish to keep him from being flogged?” The boy replied, “I have read in the New Testament that our Lord Jesus Christ said that we should forgive our enemies; and, therefore, I forgive him, and beg he may not be punished for my sake.”
At the present day the green turben which marks descent from Mahomet is often worn in the East by the very poor, and even by beggars. In our own history the glory of the once illustrious Plantagenets so completely waned, that the direct representative of Margaret Plantagenet, daughter and heiress of George, Duke of Clarence, followed the trade of a cobbler in Newport, Shropshire, in 1637. Among the lineal descendants of Edmund of Woodstock, sixth son of Edward I., and entitled to quarter the royal arms, were a village butcher and a keeper of a turnpike gate; and among the descendants of Thomas Plantagenet, Duke of Gloucester, fifth son of Edward III., was included the late sexton of a London church.—Geikie.