The heart is the seat of true wisdom, and a teachable spirit is the best proof of its influence. For who that knows himself would not be thankful for further light. No sooner, therefore, do the commandments come down from heaven, than the well-instructed Christian _receives them_, like his father Abraham (Heb. xi. 8; Gen. xxii. 1-3), with undisputing simplicity; welcomes the voice of his heavenly teacher (1 Sam. iii. 10, Acts x. 33, Psa. xxvii. 8, cxliii. 10), and when he knows that "it is the Lord, girds himself" with all the ardour of the disciple to be found at His feet (John xxi. 2-7). But look at the professor of religion destitute of this _heart-seated wisdom._ We find him a man of creeds and doctrines, not of prayer; asking curious questions rather than listening to plain truths; wanting to know events rather than duties; occupied with other men's business to the neglect of his own (Luke xiii. 23, 24; 1 Tim. v. 13).--_Bridges._ It is one of the marks of true wisdom, and none of the least, that it is not self-sufficient and self-willed. This is the evident import of the former part of this verse. We might consider the disposition in reference both to _God_ and to _men_--to the Supreme Ruler and Lord of the conscience,--and to existing human authorities. The "wise in heart will receive" _God's_ "commandments." _This,_ true wisdom will do _implicitly._ It will never presume on dictating to God, or on altering and amending His prescriptions; but, proceeding on the self-evident principle that the dictates of Divine Wisdom must in all cases be perfect, will bow in instant acquiescence. With regard also to _earthly superiors,_ a humble submission to legitimate authority, both in the family and in the State, is the province of wisdom. There is a self-conceit that spurns at all such authority. It talks as if it would legislate for all nations. It would _give_ commandments rather than _receive_ them. It likes not being dictated to. It plumes itself on its skill in finding fault. There is no rule prescribed at which it does not carp, no proposal in which it does not see something not to its mind, no order in which it does not find something to which it cannot submit. This is folly, for, were this temper of mind prevalent, there would be an end to all subordination and control. The prating fool, or the _fool of lips,_ may be understood in two ways. First, the self-conceited are generally superficial. There is much talk and little substance: words without sense: plenty of tongue, but a lack of wit. Light matter floats on the surface, and appears to all; what is solid and precious lies at the bottom. The foam is on the face of the waters; the pearl is below. Or, secondly, the reference may be to the bluster of insubordination; the loud protestations and boasting of his independence on the part of a man who resists authority, and determines to be "a law to himself."--_Wardlaw._