We arrive at the final part of chapter 12 in Mishlei, its concluding three verses. Three verses and three themes: the relationship between the righteous person and his fellow, and what misleads the wicked along their way; the fate of wealth gathered through deceit versus wealth acquired through diligence; and the level of life achieved by one who walks in the path of righteousness. With each verse, we will follow the insights of Rabbeinu Yonah, the Vilna Gaon, and the Malbim.
יָתֵר מֵרֵעֵהוּ צַדִּיק וְדֶרֶךְ רְשָׁעִים תַּתְעֵם׃ (כו) - The righteous yields more than his fellow, but the way of the wicked leads them astray. (26)
Rabbeinu Yonah explains: When a dispute arises between a righteous person and an ordinary person, the righteous person will always display greater forbearance. Even when it comes to conceding in monetary matters, this is the hallmark of the righteous. "The righteous yields more than his fellow": he is willing to forgo more, and he is ready to meet the other person halfway. By contrast, however, "the way of the wicked leads them astray" - the wicked person is mistaken in his entire approach. Why? Because the wicked person is convinced that honor means coming out on top: "I managed to squeeze so much money out of him, I defeated him in court, I overpowered him." In the eyes of the wicked, that is honor, and this is the path that misleads him. To him, showing patience means: "You let yourself be taken advantage of; why did you stay quiet?"
In truth, there is great virtue in not reacting immediately, and there is great virtue in forgiving and relinquishing what is one's own. We find this regarding the tribe of Dan, who were named Dan because over every matter they would say, "Render us a judgment" - yet it is far better not to arrive at a beit din at all, but rather to be willing to reach a compromise. For the wicked person, there is no such thing: "I will show him, and you will see how I twisted his arm." On the street, that is indeed considered a source of pride, but when one speaks this way among Bnei Torah, what exactly is he trying to prove? If he were to say, "He did such-and-such to me, and yet I forgave him," we would admire and respect him. Instead, he boasts that he showed him, dragged him to court, and extracted every last penny from him. To him, that is honor. Thus, "the righteous yields more than his fellow" - one who is willing to concede more of his own to others demonstrates righteousness; and "the way of the wicked leads them astray" - the path of the wicked misleads him into thinking that the more you extract, the more you take, the harder you twist the other person's arm, and the more you win, the greater your stature and your honor.
The Vilna Gaon explains differently: It is the way of the righteous to conduct their affairs discreetly, as it says, "And walk humbly with your God." From this arises a dilemma for someone who wishes to follow the path of the righteous: to which righteous person should I attach myself? After all, the righteous person conceals his good deeds and his personal conduct. What choice do I have? To scout him out - to observe what he does, to watch him closely, to reflect upon his ways, and from that to deduce one law and practice after another. For he does not perform his deeds publicly and openly; on the contrary, he conceals his good deeds. This is the meaning of "yater mere'ehu tzaddik": If you wish to learn righteousness from your fellow, "yater" stems from the root for scouting and searching out (latur); you must search out and observe the righteous person in order to learn from his good deeds.
"The way of the wicked leads them astray" - the way of the wicked, says the Vilna Gaon, is entirely out in the open. The wicked person does everything for show, so that everyone sees and everyone looks at him. And what is the result? One person mimics him, another copies him, and a third follows in his footsteps. Because all their deeds are on public display, it misleads everyone. The righteous person, however, performs his good deeds discreetly; therefore, whoever wishes to learn from his fellow how to be righteous must search out and observe his actions. From the wicked, it is easy to learn - all their bad deeds are done out in the open, which is why so many are led astray after them and imitate them.
The Malbim explains: The righteous person does not rely blindly on his own path. He is constantly examining himself, constantly checking himself, and is never entirely certain that he is in the right. The Malbim adds that there is a difference between a tzaddik and a chacham: A chacham is one who received wisdom from his teachers; he possesses the paths of wisdom and its principles as he learned them. The tzaddik, however, conducts himself through practice - he observed others and acts as they do, without having received the paths of wisdom from his forebears. This is the definition of a tzaddik in contrast to a chacham: by observing the deeds of others and seeking them out, he becomes righteous. "Yater mere'ehu" - he searches out the righteousness of his fellow, and through this he becomes a tzaddik.
According to this interpretation, the Malbim notes, the letter mem of "mere'ehu" is a root letter, as in "his companion [mar'ehu]" - meaning it does not signify "from his companions" (as a preposition), but is a root letter referring to his fellow. There is another possibility as well: "yater" stems from the idea of surplus and addition (yoteret) - one adds to and surpasses his own deeds through his righteous fellow. That is: How do I add righteousness to myself? "From his fellow [me-re'ehu]" - I see what my fellow does, and I say, "I too want to fulfill such a mitzvah, I too want to attain such refinement and achieve such elevation." According to this, the mem is a prepositional prefix: from what he observes in his fellow, from that he becomes righteous.
"The way of the wicked leads them astray" - the wicked person has a set path. He is confident in himself, he knows what he is doing, he harbors no doubts or hesitations, and he commits all his wicked deeds wholeheartedly. That is his ruin: he has a paved road, and he never examines himself. "Perhaps I am mistaken? Perhaps what I said was not right? Perhaps I should regret what I said to so-and-so, and perhaps I acted improperly?" He never asks this. And if there was a mistake - of course there was a mistake, but they were the ones who made it! "You can count on me; I never make mistakes, and even right now as I tell you this, I am not mistaken - you should know, I am always right." That is the way of the wicked, and therefore their very path is what leads them astray: his way is never to learn from anyone, to walk with absolute self-assurance, to persist in his vanities, and to be certain that he is right and everyone else is wrong.
לֹא יַחֲרֹךְ רְמִיָּה צֵידוֹ וְהוֹן אָדָם יָקָר חָרוּץ׃ (כז) - A deceitful man will not roast his prey, but a diligent man possesses precious wealth.
Rabbeinu Yonah explains: A deceitful person will derive no enjoyment from what he hunted, gathered, and amassed through trickery, and it will bring him no benefit. And what is meant by the word yachoroch ("will roast" or "singe")? Ralbag explains that just as someone who catches game singes it over fire - roasting it in order to eat it - so too, if the prey was acquired through deceit, "he will not roast": he will never reach the point of eating it. In other words, one who steals or amasses wealth through deceit will not prosper from it, and it will not bring him honor, blessing, or success.
"But a diligent man possesses precious wealth" - if you see an esteemed person who is respected in the eyes of people, and he has wealth, know that the wealth for which they hold him in high regard was gathered honestly. Had he amassed it deceitfully, he would fall under the first half of the verse: "A deceitful man will not roast his prey" - he will not eat from it, will not enjoy it, and will receive no honor from it. But if this is the wealth of an esteemed man whom people respect on account of his wealth, know that he is "diligent," having attained his wealth through diligence and not through dishonest or improper means, for such a person would not be respected.
There is also another explanation: "The precious wealth of a person is diligence" - what is the most precious wealth a person can have? Diligence. The greatest blessing within a person, the greatest wealth he possesses, is diligence, because one who possesses diligence will succeed.
Rav Yerucham Leibovitz of Mir, who possessed an immense understanding of the human psyche, once said: If we look at the common denominator of all the great people in the world - not only in Torah, but in every single field: sports, science, economics, government - we will find one characteristic common to all of them: ambition. One who has ambition will succeed, and one who lacks ambition, meaning he has no drive, will not succeed. One who lacks ambition is lazy: "I don't have the energy," "not now," "it doesn't matter," "and even if I try, where will I get? There are so many people better than me" - this is a defeated, ambitionless person. But one who says: "With Hashem's help I will succeed; I will apply myself; it is true there are many others, but I will succeed, and whoever puts in more effort will achieve more" - he will reach great heights and leave everyone else behind. When a person lacks ambition, he will accomplish nothing. What, then, is the greatest wealth a person can have? To be industrious, to possess diligence and drive - no wealth is more precious than this.
The Gra cites Chazal regarding the realities of hunting. When a hunter catches birds, he must ensure that the bird does not fly away - otherwise, he turns to the next bird and the first one is gone. If he wants to kill the bird on the spot, that is fine; but if he does not know how to perform shechitah and needs to bring it to town, he does not go out into the field with cages. The standard practice was to tie their legs, but then the bird could still limp away. Therefore, they would singe their wings, and once its wings were singed, it could no longer fly. Chazal say: If a person hunts without singeing the bird's wings, he will be left with nothing, because the bird will fly away.
Why, then, would someone not singe its wings? The Metzudos explains: The deceitful hunter does not singe the bird's wings because without doing so, the bird looks more complete, larger, and makes a greater impression when he comes to sell it. When its wings are singed, it looks pitiful and fetches a lower price. Therefore, the deceitful person prefers to present it looking puffed up. And where in Chazal do we find that a puffed-up bird gives the impression of being large? Regarding the poor man's offering - a poor person who brings turtledoves or young pigeons. They did not burn off the wings beforehand; rather, they offered it upon the Altar with its wings and feathers. Chazal ask: Why? Is there any foul odor like that of burning feathers? And the answer is: so that the poor man's offering should appear dignified, so that he does not see the rich man walking with a sense of grandeur - "I brought a one-and-a-half-ton ox, and what did you bring, 200 grams?" To give him a good feeling, it is brought with the wings and everything, looking full of feathers, looking large. (As an aside: the Beit HaMikdash was open to the air to ventilate odors, and the Azarah had no roof. The Heichal had a roof, as did the enclosed chambers, but all the areas where sacrifices were offered were in the Azarah, and the Azarah was open without a roof, so all the smoke rose immediately upward. This is something many people do not realize.)
Thus, the deceitful person does not singe the wings of his prey because he wants it to look large and impressive. According to the Metzudas David, this is an allegory for someone who tightly clenches his hand against giving tzedakah: he says, "I will not singe the wings; I will not give away part of my assets to charity" - and what happens in the end? The entire bird will fly away; all his money will be lost. Therefore, what preserves wealth is tzedakah, as our Sages said, "The salt of wealth is diminution [chaser]" - you want to "salt" your wealth so that it is preserved? Diminish it, give from it; there is also a textual variant, "kindness [chesed]," and both convey the same idea.
And the very same principle, says the Vilna Gaon, applies to the engagement in Torah study. For the verse does not come merely to offer us financial advice, but to address what is central to a person's life - the toil of Torah study. If a person hunts and singes the wings, learning and reviewing, learning and memorizing - that is study that endures in his hand. But "the deceitful person will not roast [singe] his prey": one who hunts but does not singe the wings, failing to review and commit it to memory, acts deceitfully, and nothing will remain in his grasp.
"And the precious substance of a man is diligence" - and what is "precious and diligent"? The Vilna Gaon explains: "precious" refers to the Torah, and "diligent" refers to the mitzvos. And when a person possesses true wealth - which is the holy Torah - how did he acquire it? Because he reviewed and memorized, reviewed and memorized. Such an individual holds real wealth. And why is it called hon (wealth)? Pay attention to the calculation: How many Chumashim of the Torah do we have? Five - the letter Hei (ה). How many Orders of the Mishnah? Six - the letter Vav (ו). And how many gates of understanding are required to attain all of this? Fifty - the letter Nun (נ). Put them together and you have Hon (הו"ן). It is said of such an individual that he holds true wealth: five Chumashim of the Torah, six Orders of the Mishnah, and he has attained the fifty gates of understanding in all their facets. A person who possesses all this is indeed "precious and diligent": precious, because he has acquired the Torah, the most precious treasure of all, of which it is said, "all your desires cannot compare to it"; and also diligent (charutz), in the sense of a commodity that moves swiftly in the marketplace. When you offer it, everyone wants to acquire it from you, everyone wants to receive it from you. Look at a great Torah sage who comes to deliver a shiur - a small announcement is posted, and two or three thousand people assemble. Why? A great sage is delivering a shiur. This is charutz - merchandise that moves swiftly, which people rush to acquire.
The Malbim explains that the deceiver is the polar opposite of the diligent man. What is a deceiver? One who pursues dishonest gain through deceit. The proof is that snaring birds is inherently accomplished through trickery - not that a hunter is necessarily called a fraud, but rather that the act is carried out through cunning and stratagems. As it is written, "Like a cage full of birds, so are their houses full of deceit," where Scripture likewise links bird hunting to deceit.
Accordingly: One who does not toil to acquire wealth through diligence, honest effort, and hard work, but instead seeks easy money - and easy money is made through robbery, deceit, and shady dealings - such a person must hide his prey so that no one sees it. For if people see it, they will ask: Where did you get this from? Whom did you rob? But one who acts uprightly and honestly has nothing to conceal. As we have noted previously: "And she was secluded (venisterah)" - and what follows? "And she was defiled." If you must conceal something, something is wrong; there is an element of defilement. Otherwise, why hide? Let it be out in the open. But one who conceals his wealth - so that the tax authorities or other prying eyes will not notice it, lest they begin asking where he got the money and whom he robbed - a person who behaves dishonestly must do everything in secret.
From this the Malbim derives an original insight: "Lo yacharoch remiyah tzeido" - related to "peeking through the lattices (charakim)." Whatever a person hunts through deceit, money acquired dishonestly, he takes care that no one peeks through the lattices to catch sight of his prey. He ensures no one sees the money he made, his profits, and his acquisitions, because people would then begin investigating the source of his assets, and it would come to light that he stole from here, robbed from there, and took things unjustly. But "the precious wealth of a man is diligence": wealth earned through diligence and earnest toil is precious wealth, "diligent" wealth - in the sense of "the hand of the diligent shall rule" - and such a person has no need to conceal it, has no worry about being seen, and is not troubled if others look upon it.
בְּאֹרַח צְדָקָה חַיִּים וְדֶרֶךְ נְתִיבָה אַל מָוֶת׃ (כח) - In the way of righteousness is life, and in its pathway there is no death.
Rabbeinu Yonah explains: Often, additional life is granted to a person on account of the charity he distributed. This is a clear and well-known principle - "and charity delivers from death." Even with an arch-wicked ruler such as Nevuchadnezzar, because he performed charity, the looming calamity was held back from him. As we find concerning Nevuchadnezzar, the heavenly decree shown in his dream that he would dwell like a beast of the field was suspended for an entire year, as recorded in the Book of Daniel: "Redeem your sins through charity, and your iniquities through showing mercy to the poor." Thus, "in the way of righteousness is life" - it grants life, protects, and delivers.
He further adds: One can understand from the verse that the righteous person never turns his heart toward idleness, and his thoughts are constantly occupied with righteousness. According to this, tzedakah is not merely monetary charity, but righteousness itself, as in "in the path of righteousness is life": the righteous person who consistently walks in the way of righteousness, and whose thoughts are entirely focused on justice, truth, integrity, and the service of Hashem, will discover life along his path. And the righteous, as noted earlier, do not engage even in idle speech: "The mouth of the righteous brings forth wisdom."
On this, Rabbeinu Yonah makes an essential observation: The punishment of one who turns his heart to idleness is greater than the punishment for idle chatter. Why? Because he misuses the most essential faculty of man - namely, the intellect (da'as). We have explained this previously based on the teachings of the Rambam. Which is more severe, a transgression in action or a transgression in thought? The Gemara teaches that improper thought is more severe. (Granted, an action generally involves thought as well, and is inherently grave; but the question is which element is intrinsically worse - an unthinking deed or sinful contemplation without deed?) The answer is: "Thoughts of sin are harder than the sin itself." This is the meaning of "You shall make a parapet (ma'akeh) for your roof, lest anyone fall from it": What is the "roof" of a person? The head, the brain, which sits atop the body like a roof. Place a protective fence around it so that it does not stray into foreign reflections and impure thoughts, "lest anyone fall from it" - for through an alien thought one can plummet. Moreover, ma'akeh (מעק"ה) is an acronym for: hirhurei aveirah kashim mei'aveirah - thoughts of sin are harder than sin.
The most exalted realm within a person is the brain, which corresponds to the Holy of Holies. A sin in the Holy of Holies is far graver than a sin in the Temple Courtyard, and graver than a sin on the Temple Mount, or in Jerusalem, or throughout Eretz Yisrael, or outside the Land. The further a place is from the sanctuary of holiness, the less severe the violation. Therefore, the righteous person is vigilant not only against idle chatter, but also against idle thoughts, because one who turns his heart to idleness incurs a greater penalty than one who engages in idle speech, since he damages his highest faculty - the realm of the brain, the faculty of da'as.
Along these lines: The dwelling place of the neshamah is in the brain, the dwelling place of the ruach is in the heart, and the dwelling place of the nefesh is in the liver. The liver filters the blood, and "the blood is the life (nefesh)." The heart is a powerhouse holding sway over the entire body, corresponding to the ruach. And the highest dimension is the neshamah - and in truth, the neshamah does not dwell within the brain itself, but functions as an encompassing light (or makif), hovering above the person's head and radiating sparks of illumination into his mind. It is therefore an exceptionally exalted and sublime dimension within man.
The higher the realm in which one causes a blemish, the greater the deficiency. We can frame it this way: when a tzaddik commits a sin and a wicked person commits a sin, who causes more damage? Certainly the tzaddik, for he abides in higher spiritual realms, and a sin or flaw there, even the slightest, is considered a severe blemish. Regarding Moshe Rabbeinu it was said, "Because you did not believe in Me" - did Moshe really lack faith? A man who speaks directly with the Holy One, blessed be He, of whom it is said, "In all My house he is faithful," how could it be said of him, "You did not believe in Me"? Rather, at his exalted level, even the most minute flaw - which the commentators struggled so greatly to explain - is deemed a serious shortcoming. By the same token, a blemish in the realm of the soul, in the mind, is far graver than a blemish in the physical body. And it must be emphasized: when a person blemishes his body, he generally blemishes his soul as well, for he does not act without consciousness but with awareness, and therefore it is no less severe.
The Malbim recalls the distinction taught earlier between a derech (highway), an orach (byway), and a netivah (path). A derech is the grand, central highway leading from city to city. An orach is a branch that diverges from the main highway toward villages and small towns. And a netiv is a path for select individuals, for lone travelers - a private trail within a town, such as a path leading directly to a person's private estate.
Tzedakah - righteousness, which encompasses the commandments between man and God - is called an orach. Why? Because one who conducts himself with righteousness and walks uprightly before Hashem is distinct from the general populace. This is not the public thoroughfare, and not everyone walks upon it. The righteous are not entirely isolated individuals, yet they are not the masses either. Therefore, the verse does not say that he "walks on the derech," for a highway is designated for the multitudes, and the multitudes are not tzaddikim; rather, he walks in the orach of the righteous, on a road traveled by the few. And along this path - "In the way of righteousness is life" (Be'orach tzedakah chayim) - he attains life, both in this world and in the World to Come, as it is written, "which a person shall perform and live by them."
Yet the verse continues: know that righteousness also has a netiv, a secluded path. And what is a netiv? A path for rare, solitary individuals, as it is said, "A path no bird of prey knows." And who walked upon this path? Moshe Rabbeinu, Eliyahu HaNavi, Pinchas - individuals who sanctified themselves to become like the ministering angels, whose righteousness mirrored the righteousness of the celestial beings, having become so spiritual through their piety that they were like angels. Here, even ordinary tzaddikim did not merit this level; it was reserved only for the rarest few among the righteous. Therefore, this is not an orach but a netiv, for truly unique individuals: people who attained the realm of the celestial beings to such an extent that the Angel of Death had no dominion over them - entering Gan Eden alive like Eliyahu, or passing away through the divine kiss (mitat neshikah) like Moshe Rabbeinu, having succeeded in elevating the physical body to the highest spiritual planes.
The Malbim continues: when such an individual divests himself of his physical body, where does his soul go? To the realm of the angels, the world of souls. And there, once stripped of the body, is that realm a netiv, an orach, or a derech? Up there, being disembodied is the standard reality; therefore, above, one is already on a derech (a main highway), for all the angels and celestial beings exist in that state. Yet the true greatness is that he managed to reach that state while still bound to a body. Regarding Eliyahu HaNavi, it is written that he shed his physical form in one of the spiritual heavenly spheres and ascended further, for with the physical body itself it is impossible to reach the highest realms; the same was true of Moshe Rabbeinu. Thus, above, they are considered to be on the derech, but here in this world it is called a netiv, because achieving such holiness here - elevating the body to a degree of sanctification where it does not even need to decompose at death - belongs to the realm of "I have seen the lofty ones, and they are few." Relative to the rest of mankind, walking this road is indeed treading a netiv.
This is what the verse means: "In the way of righteousness is life" (Be'orach tzedakah chayim) - one who walks in the orach, which is not the common road traveled by everyone, but rather walks the byway of righteousness, merits life in this world and life in the World to Come. "And in its pathway there is no death" (ve'derech netivah al-mavet) - one who belongs to the netiv, among those select few tzaddikim, and from there reaches the derech above to be with the angels and the holy celestial beings in heaven, where existing without a physical body is the highway itself - for him, there is "no death," for death does not touch him at all. Regarding the former, it says "life" - meaning life in this world, after which he passes away and attains life in the World to Come. But one who reaches the level of the netiv, trodden by only a solitary few, enters the World to Come as it were with his bodily essence elevated, and then "there is no death" - even physical death has no dominion over his body, owing to the magnitude of his holiness and spiritual stature.
The three verses that conclude the chapter depict three ascending virtues. "The righteous guides his fellow" (Yater mere'ehu tzaddik): the tzaddik yields, examines himself, and searches out the modest deeds of hidden tzaddikim, whereas the wicked person is overconfident in his course, acting openly for show, and this path leads both him and his imitators astray. "The deceitful person will not roast his prey" (Lo yachoroch remiyah tzeido): wealth acquired through deceit bears no blessing; its owner is forced to hide it from sight, and it ultimately flies away like a bird whose wings were not singed. In contrast, wealth gathered through diligence is precious capital that need not be hidden - above all, the true wealth of diligence in Torah study, constant review, and memorization, which is "the precious wealth of a diligent man" (hon adam yakar charutz). "In the way of righteousness is life" (Be'orach tzedakah chayim): righteousness brings life and delivers from death; one whose thoughts are entirely devoted to righteousness and who never turns his heart to vanity merits life in this world and in the World to Come, while the select individuals who walked the secluded path attained the exalted level where even death has no hold over them.