The internal evidence of the fragment before us, so far as any such is traceable, appears to point to the same period as what precedes, the time immediately subsequent to the death of Jehoiakim. The curse pronounced upon trusting in man may be an allusion to that king's confidence in the Egyptian alliance, which probably induced him to revolt from Nebuchadrezzar, and so precipitate the final catastrophe of his country. He owed his throne to the Pharaoh's appointment (2 Kings xxiii. 34), and may perhaps have regarded this as an additional reason for defection from Babylon. But the chastisement of Egypt preceded that of Judah; and when the day came for the latter, the king of Egypt durst no longer go to the help of his too trustful allies (2 Kings xxiv. 7). Jehoiakim had died, but his son and successor was carried captive to Babylon. In the brief interval between those two events, the prophet may have penned these two stanzas, contrasting the issues of confidence in man and confidence in God. On the other hand, they may also be referred to some time not long before the fourth year of Jehoiakim, when that king, egged on by Egypt, was meditating rebellion against his suzerain; an act of which the fatal consequences might easily be foreseen by any thoughtful observer, who was not blinded by fanatical passion and prejudice, and which might itself be regarded as an index of the kindling of Divine wrath against the country.
"Deep is the heart above all things else; And sore-diseased it is: who can know it? I, Iahvah, search the heart, I try the reins, And that, to give to a man according to his own ways, According to the fruit of his own doings.
"A partridge that gathereth young which are not hers, Is he that maketh wealth not by right. In the middle of his days it will leave him, And in his end he shall prove a fool.
"A throne of glory, a high seat from of old, Is the place of our sanctuary. Hope of Israel, Iahvah! All that leave Thee shall be ashamed; Mine apostates shall be written in earth; For they left the Well of Living Waters, even Iahvah.
"Heal Thou me, Iahvah, and I shall be healed, Save Thou me, and I shall be saved, For Thou art my praise.
"Lo, _they_ say unto me, Where is the Word of Iahvah? Prithee, let it come! Yet I, I hasted not from being a shepherd after Thee, And woeful day I desired not--_Thou_ knowest; The issue of my lips, before Thy face it fell.
"Become not a terror to me! Thou art my refuge in the day of evil. Let my pursuers be ashamed, and let not me be ashamed! Let _them_ be dismayed, and let not me be dismayed; Let Thou come upon them a day of evil, And doubly with breaking break Thou them!"
In the first of these stanzas, the word "heart" is the connecting link with the previous reflexions. The curse and the blessing had there been pronounced not upon any outward and visible distinctions, but upon a certain inward bent and spirit. He is called accursed, whose confidence is placed in changeable, perishable man, and "whose _heart_ swerveth from Iahvah." And he is blessed, who pins his faith to nothing visible; who looks for help and stay not to the seen, which is temporal, but to the Unseen, which is eternal.
The thought now occurs that this matter of inward trust, being a matter of the heart, and not merely of the outward bearing, is a hidden matter, a secret which baffles all ordinary judgment. Who shall take upon him to say whether this or that man, this or that prince confided or not confided in Iahvah? The human heart is a sea, whose depths are beyond human search; or it is a shifty Proteus, transforming itself from moment to moment under the pressure of changing circumstances, at the magic touch of impulse, under the spell of new perceptions and new phases of its world. And besides, its very life is tainted with a subtle disease, whose hereditary influence is ever interfering with the will and affections, ever tampering with the conscience and the judgment, and making difficult a clear perception, much more a wise decision. Nay, where so many motives press, so many plausible suggestions of good, so many palliations of evil, present themselves upon the eve of action; when the colours of good and evil mingle and gleam together in such rich profusion before the dazzled sight, that the mind is bewildered by the confused medley of appearances, and wholly at a loss to discern and disentangle them one from another; is it wonderful, if in such a case the heart should take refuge in the comfortable illusion of self-deceit, and seek, with too great success, to persuade itself into contentment with something which it calls not positive evil but merely a less sublime good?