As if wishing to distract himself from the gloomy conclusions to which he himself had come, Ecclesiastes again and again praises wisdom and its merits. He speaks about the importance of preserving wisdom in all its fullness (v. 1), and about the different paths followed by the wise and by fools (v. 2). He condemns ignorant rulers who do not know how to value wisdom (vv. 4-6). He understands that for a fool there is no path on which his foolishness would not hinder him (v. 3). Wisdom is needed even for the most ordinary tasks, and Ecclesiastes gives examples of how foolishness can interfere even in such ordinary matters (vv. 9-10). All the more is it necessary where one must know how to speak and choose the right words: here a foolish word sometimes proves worse than a snake's sting (vv. 11-13). And yet the words of Ecclesiastes sometimes seem like attempts to calm himself. Deep down he does not forget for a minute that at the end of life's path everyone - wise and foolish alike - awaits Sheol, where the fool will have no more concern for the foolish things he has done or said than the wise person will have for the wise deeds he has performed (v. 14).
And yet Ecclesiastes is not indifferent to the affairs of earthly governments and earthly rulers; he keeps returning to the theme of wise and foolish rulers and what the rule of each brings to their subjects (vv. 16-17). Apparently, inwardly he cannot come to terms with the sad conclusion to which his preceding reflections led him: the conclusion that wisdom is powerless and useless when earthly affairs are concerned, that it can give a person nothing except the opportunity to enjoy inner peace and the joy that God gives him.
Some scholars of the Bible have compared the worldview of Ecclesiastes with that of the Greek Stoics, whose contemporary he was. The resemblance is indeed evident: the Stoics, while highly valuing the moral law and considering it absolutely necessary to follow it, were convinced that the world could not be corrected and that no reward should be expected for strict adherence to moral norms. But unlike Ecclesiastes, they were inwardly fully reconciled to this state of affairs, accepting it as proper, so that it aroused in them neither bitterness nor inward protest. Ecclesiastes, as it appears, never managed to come to terms with the fact that no one needs wisdom except those who seek it. And no wonder: in his time wisdom was above all the art of righteous living, and Ecclesiastes, as a sincerely believing person, could in no way accept that righteousness, like wisdom, is needed by no one except the righteous themselves.
