And with this study of truth there is added to knowledge and power and beauty of expression another vital element, which gives these acquisitions an infinite value: I mean the gift of wisdom as distinct from knowledge. Read the Sapiential book of Solomon, and mark what he there says. He had learnt all things that human industry could suggest, but the science of things earthly was as nothing to the wisdom which, as he says, "went before me; and I knew not that it was the mother of all." And when he had learnt wisdom in listening to the breathing of that sacred voice whose words he recorded for our instruction, he describes it as a sacred fire of genius, "holy, one, manifold, subtle, eloquent, active, undefiled, sure, sweet, loving that which is good, quick, which nothing can oppose, beneficent, gentle, kind, steadfast, assured—a breath of the power of God—making friends of God, and prophets, for God loveth none but him that dwelleth with wisdom—more beautiful than the sun" (Sap. vii. 22-29).
Surely, it makes us friends of God and prophets. But not only this. It keeps high ideals before us, and we become like to the things we love. Look on Abraham, whom the Arab calls even to this day by no other name but El Khalil Allah—that is, "the friend of God"—chosen the father of a holy race whence eventually was to spring the Messias; look on Moses, the meekest of men, as he is called in Holy Writ, or on David, the man "according to God's own heart;" look on the later prophets, whose words set the nations aflame, and made kings tremble who had never felt fear of men or God. We see Jeremiah, the youth at Anathoth, "gentle, sensitive, yielding, yearning for peace and love, averse by nature from strife and controversy," stepping forth at the urging of motives such as speak to each of us from these pages of the Bible. Boldly he announces the judgments of God to his faithless people. "During that long ministry" of forty years, says Geikie, "no personal interest, comfort, or ease, no shrinking from ridicule, contumely, or hatred, could turn him from the task imposed upon him, with awful sanctions, by the lips of the Eternal God."[[1]]
Or take the noble women with whose lofty virtue the inspired writers fill the sacred volumes, and whose names some of the books bear.
There is the sacred Book of Ruth, she who is called "friend" or "lover" in the Hebrew tongue, fair image of filial affection as she walks beside the aged Noemi along the weary roads north from Moab, to conduct her mother to her native land. There, at noon and eve, we see her scan the fresh-mown fields for the gleanings which the law of Moses allowed the poor, in order that she might honorably keep the humble home of her widowed parent. Another sacred book we have which bears the name of Judith, the woman who, strengthened in the loyal love of her father's nation, by valiant deed set herself to defend the children of Israel from ignominious captivity. In the Book of Esther we have the history of her whose name signifies "myrtle," symbol among the Jews of joyous gratitude. Full of that modest wisdom of which Ecclesiasticus tells us that it "walketh with chosen women" (i. 17), her influence is typical of that which the Virgin Queen, fair Mother of the Christ, in later day did exercise upon the children of Eve. Ah, truly, "the word of God on high is the fountain of wisdom, and her ways are everlasting commandments" (Ecclesiastic.).
But it would be a lengthy task to point out all the details of manifold utility in the intellectual and practical, as well as the moral order, which come from the study of the Sacred Scripture. We have seen in a limited measure what it does for history, for language, for the science of government, for the development of general knowledge, and the cultivation of a graceful and vigorous style in writing. These books hold the key to true wisdom. "All Scripture," writes St. Paul to the young bishop Timothy, whom he himself had taught from the day he took him to himself as a boy at Lystra, "all Scripture, inspired by God, is profitable to teach, to reprove, to correct, to instruct."
Yet there are those, the same Apostle says, "who, always learning, never attain to the knowledge of truth" (II. Tim. iii. 7). Why? Because they do not study rightly.
[[1]] Geikie, "Hours With the Bible," v. 134.