Chapter 10

A father’s smile, a mother’s tears, tell of a son well schooled or ill.

No good ever came of money ill gotten; honest living is death’s avoiding.

Still the Lord gives honesty a full belly, and on the knave’s scheming shuts his door.

Idle hand, empty purse; riches come of hard work. (Who trusts in false promises, throws his food to the winds; as well may he chase bird in flight.1)

Wilt thou gather in harvest time, a son well schooled? Or sleep the summer round, to thy father’s great shame?

Shines the Lord’s favour on the just man’s head; the sinner’s lips are silenced by his own ill-doing.

When blessings are given, the just are remembered still; it is the sinner’s name that rusts.

Warning the wise man hears; the fool talks on, and is ruined.

He walks secure, who walks pure; cunning will yet be found out.

It needs no more than a wink of the eye to bring trouble; what wonder if the fool who talks earns a beating?

The mouth, for the just man a life-giving well, for the wicked an arsenal of harm.

Hatred is ever ready to pick a quarrel; love passes over all kinds of offence.

Never wise man’s lips but found the right word, or fool’s back but felt the rod.

Wise men treasure up their knowledge; a fool’s talk is ready to mar all.

As the rich man’s wealth is his stronghold, and the poor man’s need his peril,

so the doings of the just evermore win fresh life, the sinner’s increase his guilt.

Who lives by the lessons he has learned finds life; the way is lost when warnings go unheeded.

Lying lips that hide malice, foolish lips that spread slander,

what a world of sin there is in talking! Where least is said, most prudence is.

Silver refined is the just man’s every word, and trash the sinner’s every thought.

The just man’s talk plays the shepherd to many, while the fool dies of his own starved heart.

Of the Lord’s gift comes wealth without drudgery.

For the fool, it is but a pastime to make mischief; to act prudently needs all a man’s wisdom.

Not in vain the sinner fears, the just man hopes;

vanished, like the storm of yesterday, or secure eternally.

What irks a man more than vinegar on the tooth, or smoke in the eyes? A lingering messenger.

If fear of the Lord brings life, few years shall the wicked have;

die their hopes must while honest folk wait on contentedly.

The Lord’s judgements, what comfort they bring to the innocent, what terrors to the evil-doer!

An abiding home never the just lacked yet, or the guilty found.

A just man’s talk breeds wisdom, while the sinner’s tongue dies barren;

welcome ever the one, cross-grained the other.