13. And I applied my heart to search and to explore Concerning all things that are done under the It is the sore occupation which God hath That they should be chastised thereby.* 14. I have thus considered all the works that are done under the sun; And, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit. 15. The crooked thing he† cannot make straight, And the defective thing he cannot arrange. In passing through this marvellous composition of Solomon, we must constantly keep in mind the principal plan of the author, which evidently is, to appear first in every argument in the capacity of a moral philosopher, who argues from facts and experience, independently of religion, revelation, and the heavenly future of immortal souls. When the vanity and nothingness of this world and her false flatteries are first exposed by facts from personal experience, and when the wise man then refers us to revealed religion, to God, and to the future of souls, he always does so in obvious and strong terms. He always introduces religion as the last support of his philosophical arguments, in order to show that without it, * "Chastised thereby." In the common version (Laanoth) is rendered, "to be exercised." But this word can never signify "exercise," but alway denotes, "to be chastised, afflicted, humbled," &c. See Gen. xv. 13; xvi. 6, 9; xxxi. 50; xxxiv. 2; Exod. i. 2, 12; Deut. viii. 3, &c., &c. "He"-man, unto whom God hath appointed a sore occupation, cannot make straight that which is crooked. The word (Yuchal) twice repeated in this verse, must refer to "man," "he cannot" make straight, not to things; for in that case it would have been (Thuchal). See also chap. vii., verse 13, of this Book. without God, and without future and eternal prospects, mortal man, with all his high qualities, deep thoughts, great wisdom, and with all his numerous works, achievements, pleasures, and enjoyments, is after all but a melancholy apparition of vanity of vanities. Like an experienced and able temperance preacher in the midst of an intoxicated, bewildered, and staggering mob, generally finds it unsuitable and useless to begin his arguments from revealed religion (which would be "casting pearls before swine"), while the thoughts of his drunken audience are entirely directed towards the liquor shop, where their next supplies are to be got. The said preacher will therefore open his argument by showing them calmly and effectively the physical danger to which they expose themselves by their intemperance. He will try to persuade them of the fact, that the very drug they swallow with the mistaken intention to cheer their spirits and to do good to their bodies, would gradually enervate them, unfit them for their daily employments, knock down their spirits and destroy their bodies. He will then touch the cord of economy, in shewing them how this mania of intemperance empties their pockets, wastes their means, hinders them in their industry, clothes them in rags, and brings poverty, misery, and disorder into their habitations. At this stage of his sermon he will likely touch the cord of honour, proving unto them that by this their miserable conduct they deprive themselves of the claim to be received with consideration in any honest and sober society, and that at the same time they pour shame and confusion upon their relations and friends, upon their families and upon humanity at large. Having succeeded thus far in fixing the attention of his forgetful and degraded audience, he may then begin to introduce religion. He may then gradually show them that besides all other losses which they will unavoidably sustain in this world, were they to persevere in their madness, they also put at stake the salvation of their immortal souls, for no drunkard shall see the kingdom of heaven. Such is exactly the plan which the royal author pursues in this book. He first tries to expose unto fallen and carnally minded man the madness and vanity of the fortune and pleasurehunting mortals. Then he leads them on gradually to consider the real and everlasting fortunes-the unspeakable pleasures promised in the word of God unto the good and faithful, in a world without end.* * Should one say that the above comparison is too strong, then we would call his attention, for a moment, to the familyrelation of the common ruinous consequences that exists between the drunkard, and covetous, and pleasure-hunting man. If it be argued that a man intoxicated by liquor is more abominable than a man intoxicated by and drowned in the foolish vanities of this deceiving world; this we admit, not in a religious, but in a secular point of view. But should one maintain that, even in a religious point of view, the liquor-prey, who is incapable of caring for his soul, is more to be blamed than the prey of vanishing desires, and perishing worldly pleasures, who will not care for his soul-this we absolutely deny. The sober man who abandons religion, God and soul, and plunges himself willingly into the whirl of this world and its foolish vanities, is even far more blameable than he who cannot care for his soul because the liquor deprived him of his senses. When both victims have reached the climax of their respective intoxications, the sober debauched child of the world is no more fit for any good work than the drunkard wallowing in the mire. Do we consider the gloomy consequences of both intoxications, we shall find them at least as numerous and as fatal with the fortune and pleasure hunter as with the most abandoned drunkard. Disappointment and poverty (probably more men are impoverished through violent speculations, and extravagant pleasures, than there are original poor), exhaustion of strength, derangement of mind, dishonesty and crime, punishment and shame, suicide and murder, untimely death, and certain hell-all these abominations are trained after the sober child of the world and of Satan, in comparatively greater numbers and with the same certainty, as they are after the abandoned drunkard. If it be still objected that we combine here the covetous with the licentious man, let them then be separa Let us suppose for a moment, that our experienced and inspired Koheleth came to visit a great European fair, where an immense crowd of worldly mortals are gathered from all regions and countries with their tents and waggons, herds and flocks, grain and vegetables, meal and tallow, furs and clothes, gold and silver vessels and ornaments, pearls and jewels, stuffs and furnitures, machineries and all sorts of toys, exhibitions, theatres, and public houses. Rich and poor, young and old, men and women, all are busily employed, all talk energetically, and all are absorbed in their various affairs. There the farmer endeavours to sell at a high price the productions of his soil, but to hire at a very cheap rate his farm servants. The manufacturer seeks to set off at the highest prices his fabrics, and to buy at a very low price the raw materials. The architect speculates how to make a double gain off one building, the one out of the proprietor's pocket, the other out of the mason's strength. There a large detachment of mortals surround a band of musicians; they eat and drink, swear and scorn, dance and roar. In yonder corner, a gang of gambling and juggling swindlers is surrounded by the hundreds of their victims, some of whom already creep away slowly with empty pockets and confounded faces. In other obscure lurking places, a duped multitude surround the tables and cards of old, experienced, and eloquent fortune-tellers; whilst other degraded beings take advantage of the busy character of the day, and feed themselves on the pockets and purses of the inattentive and negligent. Every mind is drowned, tely considered, and we still maintain that, according to the records of crime in any country, the above argument will fit each one of them as well as the drunkard; for the latter is decidedly a son of the former, though some falsely maintain the contrary. every thought buried, either in the foolish vanities or in the wicked abominations of this world. Every tongue is in constant motion like the wings of a windmill in a windy day, using all possible eloquence, false assertions, and forswearings, only to gain the desired point. The whole spectacle collectively resembles the aspect of an enormous bee-hive invading and attacking a rich flower garden, all buzzing and humming with fury and haste over their prey, and minding nothing but their honey-project. No thought of death, no care for the future, no remorse of sin, no fear of hell, no remembrance of God, and no provision for eternity, as if they were destined to remain as long on earth as the latter shall exist, to live and move as long as the sun shall continue to shine, to eat, drink, and be active, as long as the wind shall continue to blow, and to gather riches and enjoy pleasures, as long as the rivers shall continue to flow into the bosom of their mother sea. Suppose, again, that in the midst of the above forgetful, worldly-minded, wicked, and abandoned crowd Solomon erects a platform, mounts it, and then exclaims in a loud voice, "Vanity of vanities, says Koheleth, vanity of vanities! all is vanity!" The multitude being attracted by that strange sounding proclamation, the preacher begins to explain what these words signify. He tells them that the immense crowd of mortals now gathered at this fair, as well as all their fellow-men living with them in the same generation, shall soon, very soon be swept away by death, as were all generations that preceded them. That consequently they can derive no lasting advantage whatever of all the toils, labours, and troubles which they bring upon themselves in search of riches and pleasures-that even in a worldly point of view, their tumultuous and wicked pleasures, their violent and outrageous behaviour was vain, |