Continuing in Chapter 30, we reach the third group of "three and four." Thus far, we learned about four things the earth cannot bear: a servant who reigns, a churl sated with bread, an unloved woman who is married, and a maidservant who supplants her mistress. Now the verse shows us the reverse: four small and weak creatures from which we can learn matters of wisdom. We will first study the verses allegorically through the Malbim's intellectual approach, then the insights of the Vilna Gaon and the Ralbag, and finally return to the Malbim's literal interpretation.
אַרְבָּעָה הֵם קְטַנֵּי־אָרֶץ וְהֵמָּה חֲכָמִים מְחֻכָּמִים׃ - Four are the smallest on earth, yet they are exceedingly wise.
There are four that are the smallest on earth, yet they are exceedingly wise. The Malbim presents a profound fundamental principle here: the Holy One, Blessed is He, embedded traits within these creatures that seem completely superfluous to them. If one observes, these traits do not serve their own survival needs. And if they are not for their benefit, whose benefit are they for? For ours - so that we may learn ethical lessons from them.
הַנְּמָלִים עַם לֹא־עָז וַיָּכִינוּ בַקַּיִץ לַחְמָם׃ - The ants are a folk not strong, yet they prepare their bread in the summer.
The ants are "a folk not strong" - they possess no physical might. The Gemara notes that an ant's entire sustenance throughout its lifetime is only a grain and a half of wheat. Yet, the Holy One, Blessed is He, endowed them with an extraordinary drive to "prepare their bread in the summer": they amass vast stores, and the Gemara mentions multiple kor measures of grain found in underground chambers carved out by ants. Why does an ant need all this? "Perhaps Hashem will decree life for me" - perhaps the Almighty will grant me long life and I will need it. Yet rationally, this makes no sense: a weak creature gathering such immense quantities that it will never actually require.
From here, the Malbim explains: if He implanted an instinct in them that is not for their own needs, it must be for ours. Were it solely for the ant's sake, it would have sufficed to instill an urge to gather a grain or two for sustenance. Seeing it accumulate millions of grains serves one purpose: for man to glean a moral lesson. And what is that lesson? That this is precisely how one must approach the gathering of wisdom. A person must continuously grow wise and study, never saying, "Enough, I have learned enough, I already know, I have already achieved." This stands in stark contrast to "a churl sated with bread" - one who abandons Torah, declaring, "I am full; I have learned plenty." Look at the ants, a folk not strong, who never cease gathering - unlike the way such a person behaves.
שְׁפַנִּים עַם לֹא־עָצוּם וַיָּשִׂימוּ בַסֶּלַע בֵּיתָם׃ - The hyraxes are a folk not mighty, yet they make their home in the rock.
Hyraxes have no strength of their own; they seek refuge from predators in burrows and crags. The Holy One, Blessed is He, implanted in their nature the instinct to make their home inside solid rock. Anyone who has traveled in the north of Israel, in the Galil, near the resting places of the righteous, can look around and see many rock hyraxes perched among the rugged boulders.
Why did Hashem instill this trait within them? So that we may learn that man must establish strongholds and rock-solid fortresses for the dwellings of his soul. That is, one must not rely on the power of imagination. The imagination stirs doubts, constantly raising questions in faith, leaving a person feeling insecure. "Wisdom has built her house" - a person's knowledge of Torah must be grounded upon firm, unshakable foundations, just as the hyrax establishes its dwelling upon the rock. But when one builds upon foundations of beach sand, a single wave comes and washes everything away.
מֶלֶךְ אֵין לָאַרְבֶּה וַיֵּצֵא חֹצֵץ כֻּלּוֹ׃ - The locust has no king, yet it goes forth in bands, all of it together.
Come and see that the locust has no king, yet despite this it goes forth "in bands" (chotzetz) - it moves in a single gathering, always united. When there is a king, the king gathers everyone and organizes them; if they must go out to battle, they do not set out as individuals but as an organized army. But the locust has no king, and one would expect each one to set out on its own to feed - yet nevertheless "it goes forth in bands, all of it together," all moving forth united and focused.
According to the Malbim's approach, this natural instinct is even harmful to them: when people want to exterminate them, what could be easier than when they come swarming together? If one had to chase after each one separately, it would be a formidable task. Rather, the Holy One, Blessed be He, instilled this nature within them so that human beings would learn from it regarding wisdom: that all the powers of the soul should act as one, by all being guided by a single law - the laws of wisdom, the laws of the Torah.
This is the opposite of "an unloved woman when she is married," which represents conduct contrary to wisdom. When I possess Torah, all my natural tendencies and faculties are channeled by a single force that governs them all. But if I have the Torah alongside other competing interests - at one moment I act in a certain way because the Torah says so, then I act differently because physical desire pulls in this direction, and then a third way because some ideology pulls in that direction. There is no single ruler over everything, and my actions are fragmented, driven by multiple conflicting powers governing them. A person must have a single power and a single guiding principle - wisdom and the Torah, which should direct his entire course of conduct.
שְׂמָמִית בְּיָדַיִם תְּתַפֵּשׂ וְהִיא בְּהֵיכְלֵי מֶלֶךְ׃ - The spider takes hold with its hands, yet it is in king's palaces.
The semamit is the spider. It weaves spiderwebs, and these webs are weak and delicate, spun from within its own body. Even though it is in king's palaces, and even though its web-spinning will cause it to be swept away and killed - Hashem endowed it with a nature whereby it grasps with its legs and weaves those webs, even in royal palaces, even when its end is certain. What logic is there in this? There is no logic - except that you should derive a moral lesson from it.
And the lesson is that a person must distance himself from flawed notions - the "spiderwebs" that a person weaves in his mind based on all sorts of illusory logic. By the way, when people want to describe something as frail, they say "like a spider's web"; yet in truth, the strongest thread in the world is spider silk - no artificial thread of equal thickness has ever been produced with its level of flexibility and tensile strength. Why then does it symbolize weakness? Because it is not measured against threads of its own scale, but against us - when I want to tear a spiderweb, I brush it aside with a single sweep of the hand.
The Malbim explains: Come and see that a person weaves for himself all sorts of theories, theses, thoughts, and imaginations that are like spiderwebs, and based on them he conducts his life and directs his ways. His entire life is founded upon a baseless theory, whose strength is like a spiderweb that you can tear apart with a single breath. Yet the person living this way imagines he is weaving a magnificent fortress for himself. "Yet it is in king's palaces" - you have a royal palace, you have the Torah, you have something stable, enduring, and eternal; and what do you do? You go and weave spiderwebs there, making that your dwelling.
Scripture comes to teach that this leads to death. Just as when a spider weaves webs in the king's palace, the king's servants will immediately come to tear them down and sweep the palace clean, so too must one understand that all illusory theories and mistaken worldviews are like spiderwebs, destined for destruction - the death of the soul - ultimately bringing ruin upon him. And this is the opposite of "a maidservant who displaces her mistress."
Our entire proof was that these creatures possess capacities that are unnatural for their own needs, and that Hashem placed these in them so that we might learn mussar from them. This is hinted at in the wording of the verse: it does not merely say "wise" (chachamim) - for a wise person is someone whose wisdom comes from within himself - but rather "made exceedingly wise" (chachamim mechukamim). Mechukam is in the passive form: someone made it wise. Their wisdom is not intrinsic to them; rather, Someone placed it within their nature. And why? Because they do not need it for themselves. An ant does not need a ton of wheat; why does it gather it? Because Someone made it exceedingly wise, so that we would become wise from it and learn mussar.
The Vilna Gaon explains these verses in a different direction. "There are four that are little upon the earth, yet they are exceedingly wise" - these four, even though they are "little upon the earth," the smallest and lowliest, perform deeds like those of the greatest sages, deeds that possess great wisdom from the choicest of the wise.
"Little upon the earth" comes to distinguish them from talmidei chachamim, who are the great ones of the earth. Everyone enumerated here represents different categories of amei ha'aretz (ordinary folk), which is why they are called "little." And why "earth" (eretz)? Because those who perform mitzvos are called "earth," since the performance of mitzvos takes place on earth - in Heaven there are no mitzvos. A talmid chacham is called a "fearer of Heaven" (yerei Shamayim), because the Torah is heavenly; it is speech, an action in the realm of spirituality. Mitzvos, on the other hand, are bound to the earth: when one dons tefillin, what are they made of? From animal hide, from the earth. The entire fulfillment of mitzvos is tied to earthliness, whereas Torah is from Heaven. Therefore, talmidei chachamim are connected to Heaven, while the amei ha'aretz are called such because they are performers of mitzvos whose medium originates from the earth. Furthermore: for their sake and for the sake of the mitzvos the earth was created and endures. Thus the verse comes to say: do not look down upon those amei ha'aretz, for they do deeds like great talmidei chachamim - and this is the teaching stated here.
The Vilna Gaon now details four classes among them. First, "She is a tree of life to those who grasp her" - he is an am ha'aretz and a performer of mitzvos, but he financially supports those who learn Torah. Second, "and those who support her are praised" - he serves talmidei chachamim; even if he lacks the means to support them financially, he at least serves them personally. Third, he is not a talmid chacham, but he goes to the beit midrash - corresponding to one of the four types who attend the beit midrash, he is "one who goes but does not practice." And what is his merit? "An ear that listens to life-giving reproof will abide among the wise" - even though he only listens, not coming to study actively but merely standing to the side, this too is a virtue. Fourth, "one who practices but does not go" - he fulfills mitzvos at home and does not go to the beit midrash at all.
"The ants are a folk not strong" - az denotes strength or power, as in "His strength is in the skies" and "mighty waters." Ants have no innate wisdom, yet despite this, "yet they prepare their bread in the summer" - they gather a vast quantity, preparing and grinding it for bread, as it says, "she gathers her bread in the harvest, prepares her food in the summer." This corresponds to the first category of am ha'aretz: one who supports talmidei chachamim and provides them with bread, "She is a tree of life to those who grasp her."
And why does it say "their bread" rather than the bread of the sages? The Vilna Gaon explains: in truth, it really is their bread. For when King Monobaz was questioned, "Your ancestors gathered and accumulated wealth, yet you squandered it all?" he replied to them, "My ancestors stored up for others, for future generations, while I gathered for myself." By distributing to the poor and needy, he was amassing treasure for himself in the World to Come. It turns out, then, that "they prepare their bread in the summer" means that the am ha'aretz who supports the sage has prepared his own bread in the summer. You did not give to the sage - do not feel as if you merely gave to him; you gave to yourself. "For wisdom is a shelter as money is a shelter," and "She is a tree of life to those who grasp her" - they have helped themselves.
"The hyraxes are not a mighty folk, yet they make their home in the rock." Hyraxes are weak by nature - when people want to describe someone as timid, they call him a "rabbit" or say he "chickened out" - yet despite this, "the rocks are a refuge for the hyraxes," and with all his weakness, he goes, burrows into the rock, and makes his home there. This corresponds to one who is not a master of Torah himself, but who always sits in the beit midrash listening to those who study Torah, "an ear that listens to life-giving reproof." This is the definition of "one who goes but does not practice"; at the very least, he places his home in the rock, in the beit midrash.
"The locusts have no king, yet they all advance in ranks" - this corresponds to one who practices but does not go. And why does he have "no king"? Because had you been in the beit midrash, you would at least have had a king - a talmid chacham, for "Who are the kings? The Rabbis" - you would have had a leader, someone to show you the proper path. But you remain at home, and you have no king. Nonetheless, "yet they all advance in ranks" - he performs many mitzvos within his home, and this too is a virtue, even though he does not come to the beit midrash.
"The spider can be grasped with the hands, yet she is in king's palaces." The Vilna Gaon explains: when any creature prepares its dwelling, it brings materials from elsewhere - the ant brings materials or clears the nest, the bird brings twigs and builds a nest, the dove brings sticks. But the spider builds its nest from itself: it produces the threads from its own body, and from its body it spins the web upon which it sits. "The spider can be grasped with the hands" - with its very hands it fashions its home without needing external materials, "yet she is in king's palaces" - even inside royal palaces.
And this corresponds to those who serve talmidei chachamim. While everyone else performs mitzvos and charity with their money, the attendant of talmidei chachamim acts only with his hands - he serves the sage with his own body. "Yet she is in king's palaces" - who are the kings? The Rabbis, and this refers to the beit midrash; he does not depart from the beit midrash, constantly listening to Torah from the sage, never departing from the tent.
Ralbag likewise explains that semamit is a spider: a small creature that makes a curtain with its hands - these are the spiderwebs it weaves - so that it can secure its food, as insects are caught in those sheets. "It grasps with hands" - with its hands it weaves nets in which living creatures are trapped. And because of this, it reaches even into kings' palaces; being a king does not prevent a spider from weaving its webs in your palace.
And the message, says Ralbag, is an admonition to the wise person not to fear investigating great matters whose truth he is capable of ascertaining. Although the spider is small, it reaches into royal palaces; so too you, the wise person, do not be afraid to enter into deep inquiries, careful study, and contemplation, even regarding matters about which you say, "Perhaps this is too big for me, perhaps it is too difficult." Come and see that even the spider seeks its prey in the king's palace, and you too can climb to a high level without falling into ruin or misunderstanding.
Ralbag brings another explanation as well, according to which the lesson is the exact opposite: that the spider was mistaken in this. Come and see: it seeks prey - and where did it go? Into the king's palaces, and there it spun its webs. And what is the difference between our homes and a king's palace? In our homes, when there are cobwebs, a week or two might pass before the cleaning lady comes; whereas in royal palaces, there are servants polishing the palace every day, and within a few hours they will sweep away the webs and kill it. Thus, it did not invest wisely: it went and spun in a place where it suffered only harm. Why? Because it climbed too high and entered places it had no business entering. It should have realized that this place was not for it, and that only harm would come to it there - not only will it fail to catch anything, but they will also kill it and tear down all its webs.
And this serves as an allusion to the wise person who attempts to break through to ascend to Hashem, "lest they break through." At times, a scholar attempts to ascend into inquiries that are too lofty, like those who entered the Pardes and did not all emerge unharmed. Therefore, a person must know his limitations and recognize the concept of "do not inquire into what is too wondrous for you": do not delve into or contemplate matters beyond your comprehension, and at times contemplation must only be in a state of running and returning (ratzo va-shov). And those who engaged in philosophical inquiries, who were certain they were exceedingly clever - precisely they made many miscalculations and were led astray, and in the end nothing remained of them.
According to the plain meaning, the Malbim explains all of these verses as a continuation of the story before us. We previously spoke of a woman who was a maidservant to the king, and furthermore committed adultery with him, and afterward she and her husband staged a coup in the kingdom and seized the throne from the king: she became queen, and her husband, the king's servant, became king. People spoke about this and composed parables about it.
And the third parable speaks of the queen. The queen's name was Semamit, and therefore they drew a parable for her from the spider called semamit. Just as if we wanted to describe a woman named Devorah, we might say she is stinging - rather than saying she bites, since we are referring to a bee rather than a dog. People take her name and frame a parable fitting to it. So too here: the woman who seized the throne was named Semamit, and they therefore likened her actions to that creature.
"The spider grasps with hands, yet it is in kings' palaces" - come and see that the spider, though small, succeeds and reaches the king's palaces, and builds its home there as well. With its hands it weaves nets to catch flies, and then sits in royal palaces in the home it wove for itself. So too with that Lady Semamit who seized the throne: "her heart is snares and nets" - traps, pits, and snares; she spun a net, ensnared the king with it, and then seized the kingship.
Furthermore: the actual spider spins everything from its own body. So too in the parable - the queen wove everything from her own body; that is, from her and her own cunning ideas this scheme emerged: both initially, when she ensnared the former king in the net of love while consorting with him, and ultimately, when she deposed him from the throne.
And the Malbim explains that here the poet added three others alongside the spider who likewise succeed through their resourcefulness: the ants succeed through their diligence; the hyraxes build lofty dwellings within the rock; the locusts succeed through their unity - although they are small, they band together in vast numbers, giving them tremendous power of action, "and they march forth in orderly ranks" - and the spider weaves its hunting nets. Thus, he sought to compare all these matters to small creatures that possess immense power; so too Lady Semamit, a small creature yet immensely powerful - look at the revolution she orchestrated in the kingdom.
שְׁלֹשָׁה הֵמָּה מֵיטִיבֵי צָעַד וְאַרְבָּעָה מֵיטִבֵי לָכֶת׃ - Three there are that have a stately step, and four that are stately in their walk.
Rashi explains "stately in their stride" - they advance and succeed through their might. And the fourth is superior to them, for he also attains the truths of the Torah and deep contemplation. Now Shlomo details them - or according to those who hold that Agur ben Yakeh was a different person, it is of him that Scripture speaks here.
לַיִשׁ גִּבּוֹר בַּבְּהֵמָה וְלֹא־יָשׁוּב מִפְּנֵי־כֹל׃ - A lion, mighty among beasts, which does not turn back before anything.
"Layish" is one of the names for a lion, representing the pinnacle of strength and might among animals - of all beasts, it is the strongest. In an allegorical sense, the Malbim explains that this represents the strength and might within the human soul, which possesses the power to overcome the material: even if the material is drawn toward physical desires and the body is drawn toward pleasures, the soul is capable of prevailing and saying no. The layish, symbolizing the lion within the human soul, is the mighty one capable of conquering cravings and desires. "Which does not turn back before anything" - no physical force can hold him back, and through his spiritual might, this person does not transgress any positive or negative commandment.
The four small creatures of the earth - the ant, the rock badger, the locust, and the spider - are "exceedingly wise": Someone imparted wisdom to them, and the instincts embedded within them were instilled not for their own sake, but for ours. From the ant, we learn never to say "enough" when gathering wisdom; from the rock badger - to build the soul's home upon bedrock rather than illusions; from the locust - to lead all the faculties of the soul under a single law, the laws of the Torah; and from the spider - to distance ourselves from corrupted philosophies that are like spiderwebs, bound to tear and bring spiritual death. The Gra saw in these four creatures the four classes among the common folk - the one who supports Torah scholars, the one who sits in the beit midrash, the one who observes mitzvot in his home, and the one who personally serves scholars - for though they are not the "giants of the earth," their deeds rival those of the greatest sages. The Ralbag added two dimensions: the boldness to investigate that which can be verified as true, and the caution not to climb into a realm that is not one's own, in the spirit of "Do not investigate what is beyond you." And finally, "A lion, mighty among beasts, which does not turn back before anything" - true strength is the fortitude of the soul, which triumphs over physical matter and retreats before nothing.