1. BLESS the LORD, O my soul.

O LORD my God, thou art very great;

Thou art clothed with honour and majesty.

2. Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment;

Who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain:

3. Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters;

Who maketh the clouds his chariot;

Who walketh upon the wings of the wind:

4. Who maketh winds his messengers;

His ministers a flaming fire:

5. Who laid the foundations of the earth,

That it should not be moved for ever.

6. Thou coverest it with the deep as with a vesture;

The waters stood above the mountains.

7. At thy rebuke they fled;

At the voice of thy thunder they hastened away;

8. They went up by the mountains, they went down by the valleys [or, The mountains rose, the valleys sank down].

Unto the place which thou hadst founded for them.

9. Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over;

That they turn not again to cover the earth.

10. He sendeth forth springs into the valleys;

They run among the mountains:

11. They give drink to every beast of the field;

The wild asses quench their thirst.

12. By them the fowl of the heaven have their habitation,

They sing among the branches.

13. He watereth the mountains from his chambers:

The earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works.

14. He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, And herb for the service of man;

That he may bring forth food out of the earth:

15. And wine that maketh glad the heart of man, And oil to make his face to shine.

And bread that strengtheneth man’s heart.

16. The trees of the LORD are satisfied;

The cedars of Lebanon, which he hath planted;

17. Where the birds make their nests:

As for the stork, the fir trees are her house.

18. The high mountains are for the wild goats; The rocks are a refuge for the conies.

19. He appointed the moon for seasons: The sun knoweth his going down.

20. Thou makest darkness, and it is night; Wherein all the beasts of the forest do creep forth.

21. The young lions roar after their prey, And seek their meat from God.

22. The sun ariseth, they get them away, And lay them down in their dens.

23. Man goeth forth unto his work And to his labour until the evening.

24. O LORD, how manifold are thy works! In wisdom hast thou made them all: The earth is full of thy riches.

25. Yonder is the sea, great and wide, Wherein are things creeping innumerable, Both small and great beasts.

26. There go the ships; There is leviathan, whom thou hast formed to take his pastime therein.

27. These wait all upon thee, That thou mayest give them their meat in due season.

28. That thou givest unto them they gather: Thou openest thine hand, they are satisfied with good.

29. Thou hidest thy face, they are troubled; Thou takest away their breath, they die, And return to their dust.

30. Thou sendest forth thy spirit, they are created; And thou renewest the face of the ground.

31. Let the glory of the LORD endure for ever; Let the LORD rejoice in his works:

32. Who looketh on the earth, and it trembleth; He toucheth the mountains, and they smoke.

33. I will sing unto the LORD as long as I live: I will sing praise to my God while I have any being.

34. Let my meditation be sweet unto him: I will rejoice in the LORD.

35. Let sinners be consumed out of the earth. And let the wicked be no more. Bless the LORD, O my soul. PRAISE YE THE LORD!

The Hymn of Creation.

PSALM 103 began with “Bless Jehovah, O my soul;” so also does this anonymous Psalm, in which God’s rule in the kingdom of nature is the subject of praise, just as His rule in the kingdom of grace was the theme of the former; here also mention is made of the angels in connection with God’s government. The poet sings the divinely appointed, continuous existence of the world, having present to his mind the creative beginnings related in Gen. 1 and 2, and closes with the wish that evil may be banished from this good creation, which so thoroughly and so fully reveals the might and wisdom and goodness of God. It is a nature Psalm; but such an one as was possible to no heathen poet. To the Israelitish poet all things in nature appear as brought forth and sustained by the creative might of the One God, as brought into being and preserved in existence, that He may communicate Himself in free, condescending love. D.

This Psalm stands without caption. In subject it bears close relations to Psalm 103, a circumstance strongly in favor of referring it to the same author. It enlarges the glorious theme of praise to God by setting forth His wonderful works in the material world. It is God in nature, yet not at all in the pantheistic sense—nature itself a part of God; but in the far nobler sense, a personal God, the Infinite Creator of all material things, forevermore energizing by His present hand to sustain the forces which supply from the material world the wants of all the living. Remarkably the course of thought follows somewhat definitely the order of topics presented in the original account of the creation given by Moses: God the glorious Creator; investing Himself with light; stretching out the broad expanse of the visible heavens; locating the waters that belong above the firmament; the clouds also and the winds; fixing the solid earth and gathering together the waters appropriated to its surface and thus providing for the springs and rivers that supply animal want and insure the fruits of the earth. Thus the author’s mind ranges on, as of one whose open eye has traced out the marvellous ways of God in blessing all His vast family of living creatures—themes on which it is sweet to dwell, and which call forth from his grateful, adoring soul praises ever fresh to the great Father of all. C.

This Divine ode is a bright and living picture of God’s creative power, pouring life and gladness throughout the universe. The distinct recognition of the absolute dependence of the universe, as created, upon the Creator, forms the very basis and main thread of the poem. The great work of creation is here regarded not as a thing of the past merely. He who made, renews the face of the earth. It is the same profound view of the relation of the Cosmos to the Creator which Paul exhibits in his speech on Mars’ Hill (Acts 17: 25). In its main outline the poem follows the story of creation contained in the first chapter of Genesis. And yet the Psalm is not a mere copy of the original. Breathing the same lofty spirit, it has a force and an originality of its own. In some respects the Psalm, even more strikingly than the early record, exhibits the infinite greatness, the order, the life of the universe. The creation of Genesis is a creation of the past; the creation of the Psalm is a creation of the present. The one portrays the beginning of the eternal order, the other its perpetual, living spectacle. Hence, too, the ode has far more animation than the record. How vivid are the images which it calls up—the wild ass roaming the sands of the wilderness, stooping to slake his thirst at the stream which God has provided; the birds building their nests, and breaking forth into song in the trees which fringe the margin of the torrent-beds; the wild goats bounding from rock to rock, and finding their home in the inaccessible crags; the young lions filling the forest by night with their roar, and “seeking from God their prey;” and the sea with the same plenitude of life, its depths peopled with huge monsters and swarming myriads of lesser fish, and its surface studded with sails, the image of the enterprise, the traffic, the commerce of the world; and lastly, in fine contrast with this merely animal activity of creatures led by their appetites, the even tenor, the calm, unobtrusive dignity of man’s daily life of labor; take all these together, and we have a picture which for truth and depth of coloring, for animation, tenderness, beauty, has never been surpassed. It is not surprising that this great hymn of creation should have called forth the warmest expressions of admiration from those who have studied it. Sanchez says, “The Psalm is delightful, sweet, and instructive, as teaching us the soundest views of nature, and the best method of pursuing the study of it—viz., by admiring with one eye the works of God, and with the other God Himself, their Creator and Preserver.” The great naturalist, A. Von Humboldt, writes: “It might almost be said that one single Psalm represents the image of the whole Cosmos. We are astonished to find in a lyrical poem of such limited compass the whole universe—the heavens and earth—sketched with a few bold touches. The contrast of the labor of man with the animal life of nature, and the image of omnipresent, invisible power, renewing the earth at will, or sweeping it of inhabitants, is a grand and solemn poetical creation.” “With what an eye of gladness,” says Herder, “does the poet survey the earth! It is a green mountain of Jehovah, which He lifted above the waters; a paradise which He established for the dwelling-place of so many living creatures above the seas. The series of pictures which the poet here displays is, in fact, the natural history of the earth.”

The Psalm is without any strophical division. The poet begins with the light, and the heaven with its cloud and storms (vs. 2-4), corresponding to the works of the first and second days. Then he passes to the earth, first describing its original chaotic state, and the separation of earth and water by the voice of God (vs. 5-9), in accordance with Gen. 1: 9, 10 (first portion of the third day’s work); and then the varied adornment of the earth as the dwelling-place of living creatures. The mention of the heavenly bodies follows (vs. 19-23, fourth day’s work). Then, after a short exclamation of admiring gratitude (v. 24), the poet, who has already woven into his verse so happily some portion of the creative wonders of the fifth and sixth days, the birds and beasts and creeping things and man, turns back again (vs. 25, 26) to speak of the sea and its life (Gen. 1: 21). Finally, after expressing, in vivid phrase, the absolute dependence of all this vast and manifold creation upon its Maker (vs. 27-30), he longs to see the bright original restored, to find himself and all God’s creatures parts of the mighty harmony, that a new sabbath of creation may dawn, a rest of God, in which He shall rejoice in His works and they in Him, and the world become a temple filled with His praise. P.

1. Bless the Lord, O my soul. A good man’s work lieth most within doors, he is more taken up with his own soul than with all the world besides; neither can he ever be alone so long as he hath God and his own heart to converse with. Trapp.—A lively sense of God’s greatness gives the soul a clear sight of her nothingness; a lively sense of God’s holiness, a clear sense of her sinfulness; a lively sense of His goodness, a clear sense of her unworthiness. Horneck.

O Lord my God, Thou art very great. Greatness, if you look at it as something separate from you and away, still more if you have a consciousness that it may be against you, is a matter of awe and terror. If you mingle it with yourself, as a part of yourself and yourself a part of it, greatness, becoming a possession, is a grand thought and a pleasant one. So we unite these two clauses. David could not have said the second with gladness unless he could have said the first with confidence: “O Lord my God, Thou art very great.” If it is great to be at the same time infinitely comprehensive and exquisitely minute, to fill the widest and yet to be occupied by the narrowest, then what a God is ours! The unspeakably large and the invisibly small are alike to Him. We stand and marvel at the combination of the telescopic glance and the microscopic care; and we confess, “O Lord my God, Thou art very great.” Some one has said that continuity is the secret of the sublime; the eye goes on and on, and finds no break, and calls it sublimity. Then what a sublimity there is in Him who century after century, year by year, without the shadow of a turning, has continued the same, “yesterday, to-day, and forever!” Look, too, at the wonderful greatness of His plan of redemption. The length, and the breadth, and the depth, and the height are all passing knowledge; and we have nothing to do but to humble ourselves in the dust and say, “O Lord my God, Thou art very great.” J. Vaughan.

2. Coverest Thyself with light as a garment. God weaves His attributes, the tokens of His presence, into all the works of His hands. He spreads His vesture abroad in creation, and brings it close to our touch, instinct with His being, that we may feel and grasp the God in whom we live and move, and know Him to be, not a mere abstraction, but a God near and ever-present. Ker.

Light is the most powerful principle in creation; it is the cause of all the order and beauty and life of the universe. It is the most universal of all forces; it paints the flower and the rainbow; it glimmers in the remotest star in space, and it fades away in the dim hue of the smallest organism in the deepest abyss of the ocean. Beyond its influence, everlasting death and silence reign. It is the most necessary of all the forces of the universe. Other forces are needed for a time; light is always needed. Other forces are preparatory or revolutionary; light is the abiding crown and perfection of all things. Other forces make room for themselves by displacement; light dwells with everything except darkness. It interferes with nothing, it requires no room, it clears no space for itself to occupy, but pervades all nature, and shines upon the humblest moss and the greatest mountain. It is the calmest and stillest force in the universe; its mighty pulse-beat is never heard. Though it comes with inconceivable velocity from an inconceivable distance, it stirs not the spider’s web on which it glistens, nor pains the sensitive eye which it enables to see. Its nature becomes organized in the things which grow out of the earth, and in the creatures which live upon it; and although it is continually imparting itself, it suffers no loss of substance or diminution of brightness. Need we wonder, then, that, possessing all these remarkable qualities, our Lord should have chosen this principle to be the highest and holiest symbol of Himself. He is the True Light, light in its highest form and fullest significance; the ideal of which sunlight is only an imperfect and partial realization; the substance of which all physical light is only the shadow. The whole universe is the shekinah cloud which He illuminates. H. Macmillan.

God “dwells in light;” He is “clothed with it as a garment;” it invests Him with a calm and steady effulgence. One element, at least, of this “excellent glory” is the infinite range, the fulness and perfection of His knowledge; it is this which constitutes Him the sun and centre of the intellectual system, the fountain of intelligence and “the Father of Lights.” All minds, in all worlds, with all their faculties, their diversified gifts, their powers of perception, thought, reason, utterance—all these everywhere are but beams and rays which have issued from and are sustained by that luminous orb, that central sun, the God that dwells in the cloudless effulgence of uncreated light, and who is at once the light and the life of angels and men. All knowledge, all science; every conception of the ideal, the beautiful, the perfect; whatever any creature can acquire from without, whatever may appear to originate within; piercing intuition, profound thought, artistic achievement, mechanical invention, eloquence, song—all are but faint and imperfect reflections of what first exists in the Divine mind. There, too, it exists in such infinite and inconceivable opulence, in combination with so much of what is unimaginable and unknown, that, if we could enumerate the entire sum of things which constitute the mental wealth of the universe, we should not only have to say, “These all come forth from the Lord, who is wonderful in counsel,” but we should have to add to this the still deeper thought, “and many like things are with Him.” T. Binney.

With light. The first creation of God in the works of the days was the light of sense; the last was the light of reason; and His Sabbath work ever since is the illumination of the spirit. Bacon.

Stretchest out the heavens. This describes briefly the work of the second day. The heavens are the firmament, the expanse (as the Hebrew word literally means) which is spread out to separate the waters. And in the waters above God lays, as it were, the floor of His palace. P.

Like a curtain. Because the Hebrews conceived of heaven as a temple and palace of God, that sacred azure was at once the floor of His, the roof of our abode. Yet the dwellers in tents ever loved best the figure of the heavenly tent. They represent God as daily spreading it out, and fastening it at the extremity of the horizon to the pillars of heaven, the mountains; it is to them a tent of safety, of rest, of a fatherly hospitality in which God lives with His creatures. Herder.

Nature has two great revelations—that of use and that of beauty; and the first thing we observe about these two characteristics of hers is that they are bound together and tied to each other. The beauty of nature is not, as it were, a fortunate accident, which can be separated from her use; there is no difference in the tenure upon which these two characteristics stand; the beauty is just as much a part of nature as the use; they are only different aspects of the self-same facts. But though the outward face of nature is a religious communication to those who come to it with the religious element already in them, no man can get a religion out of the beauty of nature. There must be for the base of a religion the internal view, the inner sense, the look into ourselves, and recognition of an inward state—sin, helplessness, misery. If there is not this, outward nature cannot of itself enlighten man’s conscience and give him a knowledge of God. It will be a picture to him, and nothing more. Mosley.

4. Those events which we ascribe to chance, as the weather, or to nature, as the seasons, are duties done to that God who maketh His angels to be winds, and His ministers a flame of fire. Nature is not inanimate; its daily toil is intelligent; its works are duties. Every breath of air and ray of light and heat, every beautiful prospect, is, as it were, the skirts of their garments, the waving of the robes of those whose faces see God in heaven. Newman.

Who maketh His angels spirits. The words, “creating His angels spirits,” may either mean “creating them spiritual beings, not material beings,” or “creating them winds;” i.e., like the winds, invisible, rapid in their movements, and capable of producing great effects. The last mode of interpretation seems pointed out by the parallelism, “and His ministers,” or, “servants,” who are plainly the same as His angels, “a flame of fire,” i.e., like the lightning. The statement here made about the angels seems to be this, “They are created beings, who in their qualities bear a resemblance to the winds and the lightning.” The argument deduced in Heb. 2 : 7 from this statement for the inferiority of the angels is direct and powerful. He is the Son ; they are the creatures of God. “Only-begotten” is the description of His mode of existence ; made is the description of theirs. All their powers are communicated power ; and however high they may stand in the scale of creation, it is in that scale they stand, which places them infinitely below Him who is so the Son of God as to be “God over all, blessed forever.” John Brown.

5. The work of the third day in its two great divisions : First, the separation of the land and water (vs. 5-9) ; next, the clothing of the earth with grass, herbs, and trees (vs. 10-18). The poet, however, ranges beyond the first creation, and peoples the earth with the living creatures of the fifth day. It is not a picture of still life, like that in Genesis, but a living, moving, animated scene.

6. The original chaos is described, not according to the heathen notion, as a confused mass, earth and water mingled together, but the earth as already formed, yet completely enveloped in the water (2 Pet. 2 : 5). This vast, swelling, tumultuous sea hears the “rebuke” of God, and sinks to its appointed place ; the earth appears, emerges from her watery covering, and shows her surface diversified with mountain and valley. P.

5,6. There seems to be a recognition of the idea that the earth is established upon a nether deep in v. 3 : “Who layeth the beams of His chambers in the waters.” But the inspired writer was not permitted in his statement of the facts to commit an error. He proceeds to say that God “laid the foundations of the earth that it should not be moved forever” (for all the days), and then afterward “covered it with the deep as with a vesture.” Here, then, the cosmical history is given as geological science has since projected it, and also the stability of the earth is limited to time, to all the days. And it is not till the fiat has gone forth that time shall be no longer, that the stability of the earth shall cease. The Psalm is magnificent poetry, but the solid facts rise up through it as the granite peaks emerge above the encircling and sun-painted clouds. Interior.

9. Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over ; that they turn not again to cover the earth. That bound has once been passed, but it shall never be so again. The deluge was caused by the suspension of the Divine mandate which held the floods in check ; they knew their old supremacy, and hastened to reassert it, but now the covenant promise forever prevents a return of that carnival of waters. Destruction lies asleep in the bed of the ocean, and though our sins might well arouse it, yet are its bands made strong by covenant mercy, so that it cannot break loose again upon the guilty sons of men. S.—Wisdom giveth us the like eulogium of the power of God in Prov. 8 : 29, “He gave to the sea His decree, that the waters should not pass His commandment.” Caryl.

10-15. The loving care, the tender sympathy with which God, clothing the earth with beauty, provides at the same time for the wants of all His creatures. Even the wild ass, which shuns the approach of man, and the birds of heaven, which have no keeper, are not left unprovided for. P.

10. He sendeth springs into the valleys ; they run among the mountains.** The incessant murmur of the mountain spring in the solitude speaks to the ear of the thoughtful of the wonderful rhythm of the universe. That spring seems the wayward child of uncertain parents ; and yet it wells up with every beat of the pulse of nature, as it has welled up for thousands of years. As the blood circulates in the body continually, so does the water circulate on the earth. Not more certainly would life terminate in the body if the pulse ceased to beat than would the world be locked in everlasting sleep if the mountain spring ceased to throb. Calm and grand as when the morning stars sang together in the morning of creation, Nature moves in her appointed orbit ; and her blades of grass, and grains of sand, and drops of water tell us that we must be brought into concord with the beneficent law which they all obey so steadfastly and harmoniously or else perish. What nature does unconsciously and willlessly let us do consciously and willingly ; and learning a lesson even from the humble voice of the mountain spring, let us make the statutes of the Lord our song in the house of our pilgrimage. . . . Very mysterious seems the origin of a spring as it sparkles up from the bosom of the mountain, from the heart of the rock, into the sunshine. It stimulates our imagination. It seems like a new creation in the place. Through what dark fissures, through what fine veins and pores of the earth, have its waters trickled up to the central reservoir whose overflowing comes up to view, crystal-clear and crowned with light! The Hebrew name of a prophet was derived from the bubbling forth of the waters of a spring, implying that his utterances were the irresistible overflowings of the Divine fountain of inspiration in his soul. Beside the well of Sychar, incarnate in human form, in visible manifestation to the eyes of men, was the great Reality to whom all myths and symbols pointed, who thirsted Himself that He might give us to drink. And if our eyes be purged with spiritual eye-salve, we, too, shall see beside every spring the true Oracle, the great Prophet, the Divinity of the waters, who “sendeth the springs into the valleys which run among the hills.” As the natural spring stands between the living and the dead, between the sterility of desert plains and the bright verdure which it creates along its course, so He stands between our souls and spiritual death, between the desolation of sin and the peaceable fruits of righteousness which He enables us to produce. H. Macmillan.

Of all inorganic substances acting in their own proper nature, and without assistance or combination, water is the most wonderful. If we think of it as the source of all the changefulness and beauty which we have seen in clouds; then as the instrument by which the earth was modelled into symmetry, and its crags chiselled into grace; then as, in the form of snow, it robes the mountains it has made with that transcendent light which we could not have conceived if we had not seen; then as it exists in the form of the torrent, in the iris which spans it, in the morning mist which rises from it, the deep crystalline pools which mirror its hanging shore, in the broad lake and glancing river; finally, in that which is to all human minds the best emblem of unwearied, unconquerable power, the wild, various, fantastic, tameless unity of the sea; what shall we compare to this mighty, this universal element, for glory and for beauty? or how shall we follow its eternal changefulness of feeling? It is like trying to paint a soul. Ruskin.

12. Above them the birds of heaven dwell, from between the branches they give voice. The poetical character of the composition is in nothing more obvious than in these minute strokes of exquisite painting, superadded to the more essential parts of the description. At the same time, these are not to be regarded as mere lavish or gratuitous embellishments, since the Psalmist’s purpose is to celebrate God’s wonderful and bountiful provision for His living creatures, and the running brooks would fail to answer one of their most valuable ends if there were no birds to give voice or sing among the branches of the overhanging trees. The word translated birds is a collective answering to the old English fowl, not as used in the version of this Psalm, where it is plural, but in that of Gen. 1 : 20, 22, 26, 28. That passage furnishes an explanation of the phrase fowl (or birds) of heaven, in the fuller description (Gen. 1 : 20), fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven; i.e., through the air, across the face of the expanse or visible heaven. A.

The fowls of the heaven which sing among the branches. How do the blackbird and thrassel (thrush), with their melodious voices, bid welcome to the cheerful spring, and in their fixed months warble forth such ditties as no art or instrument can reach to! But the nightingale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet, loud music out of her little instrumental throat, that it makes mankind to think miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the very laborer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say, “Lord, what music hast Thou provided for the saints in heaven, when Thou affordest bad men such music on earth!” Isaak Walton.

13. Watering mountains from His upper rooms; from the fruit of Thy works is the earth filled. He still returns to God as the Author of these merciful provisions, and represents Him, by a beautiful figure, as pouring this abundant supply of water from His upper rooms, the same word that was rendered chambers in v. 3. The fruit of Thy works, the result or product of Thy creative energy. Filled, not in the sense of being occupied, which would require a different Hebrew verb, but in that of being abundantly supplied or saturated. The sudden apostrophe to God Himself enhances the poetical effect. A.

14,15. Thus doubly watered, from above and from beneath, the earth brings forth grass for the cattle, and its various fruits, corn and wine and oil, for the use of men; for the cattle what they need, for man more than he needs, that which makes his heart glad and his countenance bright. P.

Arguments against abstinence have been sought in the Bible. Its advocates have simply stood upon the defensive. Whether among the

Jews, and in our Saviour’s day, there was a wine that contained no alcohol is hard to be determined, although in regard to the significance of the Hebrew yayin and the Greek oinos there can be but little doubt. Ab effervescendo, says Gesenius; but he puts to it fortasse, “perhaps;” and, in truth, he has no authority for it whatever in any of the Shemitic tongues. These words simply meant the liquid that came from pressing the grape. There is no evidence of any further idea associated with it. It was not fermenting fluid, but grape juice. This, it was well known, grew stronger with age. It was at first pleasant and nourishing, then exhilarating, and at last intoxicating. In the Bible the first use is commended, the second mentioned without disapprobation or approval, the third in all cases condemned.

Our view of the primary design of a passage in Scripture must control all else. Believing in the full and perfect inspiration of the Bible, I must still in every case inquire what is the thought, precept, emotion, primarily inspired, and what is subordinate to it; what is the leading idea, and what is simply illustration drawn from the writer’s own best knowledge, or opinions having their value not in their absolute correctness, as scientific fact, but only as they serve this subordinate purpose. The Scriptures are full of examples. The passages that may be regarded as having a clear bearing on these temperance questions may be arranged in three classes. They are, first, bare historical recitals, without a word to indicate approval or disapproval; secondly, references to wine, etc., used in illustration of other ideas to which they are wholly subordinate; thirdly, the directly ethical, wherein the use and effects of wine form the real subject-matter of the instruction given.

The first class requires no discussion. The nature of the second is best shown by an example. Take this one most often quoted: “Who maketh the grass to grow for the cattle, and herh for the use of man; to bring forth food from the earth, and wine that maketh glad man’s heart, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread to strengthen man’s heart.” Gratitude to God for giving unto men abundantly what they suppose to be good for them—this is the subject-matter of the inspiration; all else is subordinate and illustrative, as drawn from things deemed good by the writer, or by those whom he primarily addresses. Praise and thanksgiving, this is the Divine idea, the inbreathed emotion. The soul, full of it, seeks illustrative language for its expression. The vine, the olive, the barley, were the agricultural staples of Palestine. Men are called to praise God for their abundance. There is no more approval of any one use than there is of another. A possible noxious substance made from either is no more covered by a Divine benediction in the one case than in the other. A possible intoxicating wine from the grape is no more blessed than a possible whiskey from the barley. We exegetically infer that if the inspired writer is a good man, he has not in his mind wine as intoxicating, or as a means of intoxicating, or as anything that may tend to it. “Rejoicing the heart,” or “making glad,” does not express that idea. The other substances, too, “rejoice the heart;” that is, inspire gratitude. This may be called moral inference, but it is none the less legitimate exegesis. This one hundred and fourth Psalm showed a most sublime inspiration. It is full of God and His glory, but it gives the writer no new chemical knowledge, and therefore his language cannot be pressed into the service of either the deniers or the affirmers of alcohol. Intoxication was a moral state. To understand that required no science. It was a bad thing, and a good man, inspired or uninspired, must condemn it, whether in its incipient or its advanced stages. To talk of excess in it is absurd. It is a spiritual disorder, and hence the least degree of it is excess. He must, therefore, have had in view something non intoxicating, though ignorant of its criminal cause, and consequently liable to be mistaken, though his mistake as to illustrative fact could not compromise the spiritual idea.

Hence we infer that the wine in this passage could not have been such as is now sold in the saloons of New York and Chicago, or the kind of wine in whose defence this scriptural anti-temperance argument is generally resorted to, and for which purpose alone it has any marketable value. But there certainly were wines, or mixtures, drunk in Judea which did intoxicate. The reasoning, therefore, which insists on some acknowledged distinction, is perfectly sound as moral deduction, which must enter, more or less, into interpretation. On this account it is not to be sneered at as deficient in its philology, which really has less to do with the discussion than is commonly imagined. Instead of being dependent on lexical definitions of yayin and tirosh, the evidence is mainly historical and inferential; and here the temperance advocate is as likely to be right as his ofttimes too contemptuous opponent. He is no more likely to be wrong than the modern traveller in Eastern countries, or than the missionary who is so absurdly appealed to as determining the old wines by the demoralized tastes of the modern Bedouin. Be all this as it may in regard to the chemistry of the question or the possibility of there ever having been any wines that were absolutely unalcoholic, we are safe in adhering to the distinction between the inspired idea and its illustrative language. Men who quote a passage like Psalm 104 : 14 as either an approval or disapproval of wine-drinking per se, or who would regard the writer’s language as equally infallible in respect to the supposed physical fact and the spiritual lesson, ought to consider where such a principle of interpretation would lead them if carried out. Psalm 121 : 4 teaches the sleepless providence of God, the safety of those who commit themselves to its protection. This is the inspired idea. It is in itself full and perfect. It might have been presented in general terms. The writer, however, under the suggestive power of the Divine emotion, though not scientifically taught by it, is impelled to the use of vivid examples. He has a rich imagination. On this account, it may be, God chose him for His inspired human medium. His figures are exceedingly rich and beautiful : “Behold, He slumbereth not who keepeth Israel. Jehovah is thy watcher ; Jehovah is thy covering shadow, on the right hand and on the left. By day the sun shall not smite thee, nor the moon by night.” Inspiration does not disdain to borrow from inspiration (Rev. 7 : 16) : “Never more shall the sun fall upon them, nor any heat.” The second illustration of Psalm 121 is taken from the supposed evil influence of the moon. Now whether this be true or not as scientific fact, does not at all affect its force and vividness, or its fitness as a representative of the Divine idea. The moonbeams streaming by night into the chamber of the sleepless invalid, how vividly might it recall to him the spiritual solace of this assuring language ! To the pure spiritual believer, the sense of protection which it gives would not be in the least impaired by any opinion he might entertain, or might suppose the old Hebrew writer to have entertained, respecting the scientific fact, real or imaginary. On the other hand, he who should treat this as inspired proof that the moon does actually exert a malarious physical influence, or should thus use the Bible to settle a physical question, would be acting precisely like the fanatical anti-temperance man who should cite Psalm 104 : 14 as a Divine testimony to wine-drinking, or a sure proof that alcoholic stimulus must be in itself a good and healthful thing. The cases are alike, whether the religionist uses one or both as a sure attestation to a fact in natural philosophy, or the infidel seizes hold of either as a ground of cavil against the intrinsic truthfulness of the Scriptures. Tayler Lewis. [For the “third class,” see Prov. 23 : 29-35. B.]

15. Bread which strengtheneth man’s heart.** In hunger not only the strength is prostrated, but the natural courage is also abated. Hunger has no enterprise, emulation, nor courage. But when, in such circumstances, a little bread is received into the stomach, the strength is restored, and the spirits revived. A. Clarke.

16. The trees of Jehovah**, so called as planted, not by human hand, but by God Himself, trees of the forest and the mountain, in opposition to those which come under human cultivation, such as the vine and the olive, which are implied in v. 15. P.

Full are the trees of Jehovah ; the cedars of Lebanon which He planted. Full ; i.e., abundantly supplied, saturated as in v. 13. What is first said of trees, or of the noblest trees, in general, is then said of the cedars in particular. The trees of Jehovah, like the cedars of God in Psalm 80 : 10, are those which, by their loftiness, fruitfulness, or beauty, bear the strongest impress of their Maker’s hand. The cedars of Lebanon are often mentioned as the noblest and most famous of their kind. A.—The cedars are “trees of the Lord” on account of the peculiarities of their structure. In common with all the pine tribe, they are exceptional in their organization. They reveal a new idea of the creative mind. The cedars are “the trees of the Lord” on account of the antiquity of their type. It was of this class of trees that the pre-Adamite forests were principally composed. The cedars are the “trees of the Lord” on account of the majesty of their appearance. It is the tree, par excellence, of the Bible, the type of all forest vegetation. Hugh Macmillan.

17. Where the (small) birds nestle ; (as to) the stork, the cypresses (are) her house.** He again recurs to the provision made for birds, which is here connected with the trees, as it is in v. 12. The word translated birds is not the one there used, but the same with that in Psalm 84 : 3 ; 102 : 7, where it is commonly translated sparrow, though supposed to be a general term for small birds, so called from their chirping, twittering noise. Here it may represent the smaller and the stork the larger class of birds. The Hebrew name of the stork means merciful, and is supposed to have reference to the natural kindness of that bird, both to its parents and its young. Nestle, or build their nests. A.

How one thing fits into another in this fair creation, each link drawing on its fellow; the rains water the fir-trees, and the fir-trees become the happy home of birds. Observe, also, how everything has its use—the boughs furnish a home for the birds; and every living thing has its accommodation—the stork finds a house in the pines. Her nest is called a house, because this bird exhibits domestic virtues and maternal love which make her young to be comparable to a family. S.

18. The high mountains and precipices or “cliffs” are mentioned because they, like the trees, are a shelter for the wild animals. God provides food and God provides shelter for His creatures. P.—The names of the animals here mentioned are not of the slightest exegetical importance, since the only peculiarities involved are those suggested by the text itself—to wit, that the animals intended must be such as inhabit rocks and mountains. A.

19. Transition to the work of the fourth day; but still so contrived as to introduce another picture of life upon the earth, and the contrast between the life of the night and the life of the day. The moon, mentioned first, because to the Hebrew mind the night naturally preceded the day, as throughout Gen. 1, “And there was evening and there was morning.” Hence we have first the night-scene (vs. 20, 21) and then the day-scene (vs. 22, 23). P.

He made the moon for seasons; the sun knows his setting. Even the heavenly bodies have a reference to man’s advantage. The moon is a measure of time, and the sun defines the period of active labor. The word translated seasons is here put for all divisions of time, including the succession of day and night, to which there is perhaps a special reference, as in the other clause, where the meaning seems to be that the sun knows when and where to set, and does not make the day with its attendant toils perpetual. This is a strong poetical description of an obvious and familiar fact, and no more presupposes a particular theory or system of astronomy than the similar language of uninspired poets among ourselves. A.—Knoweth his going down. This mention of the sunset prepares the way for the night-picture which follows.

20-23. Even the night has its busy life; the beasts of prey are abroad, and they, too, wait upon the providence of God. The whole picture is finely conceived, and the contrast is perfect between the restless movement and roaring of the wild beasts, and man’s calm life of labor, continued in the quiet light of day from morning till evening. All the other creatures wait upon God, in simple dependence upon Him; man must labor, as well as gather what God gives him, if he would be satisfied with good. P.—“Beasts of the forest creep forth,” not stealthily, but as those who are in their place and on their own time. God made them for night work. “Seek their food from God,” in the way of seeking by instinct what His careful bounty has provided. The Psalmist purposely honors God as the Great Provider for even the powerful lion. C.

23. Forth goes man to his work, and to his labor until evening. This verse presents the day-scene corresponding to the night-scene of the two preceding verses. When night comes on, the beasts of the forest are in motion; when the sun appears, they gather to their lairs, and man comes forth to labor until evening, when the scene is shifted as before. Leaving out of view all higher claims to admiration and respect, the poetical merit of this whole description is of the highest order. A.

Man alone, among all creatures, in distinction from the involuntary instruments of the Almighty, has a real daily work. He has a definite part to play in life, and can recognize it. Moll.—God appoints to every one his work, and prepares every one for that work by special training in His providence, and by special gifts through His Spirit. Let every one, then, accept his actual life work as from God, let every one recognize, use, and profit by his daily providential training, actively and wisely employ his gifts, and steadfastly seek the guiding, helping grace of the Divine Spirit. B.

Toil is a pleasure. There is no steady-going, every-day reliable pleasure that is superior to that of laying by in store for the future, and seeing in hand and secure the products of that toil. It is the mainstay of hope and of pleasant anticipation. It is a very simple and homely matter, but it would be hard to find anything pleasanter than the sight of a load of hay or grain going into the barn. Any storing away for future use is the same—storing away knowledge and education in the mind, money in the savings bank, apples and roots in the cellar, or laying up treasures in heaven, where moth or rust doth not corrupt, nor thieves break through nor steal. Interior.

It is a principle sufficiently evident in the infirmity of man that he cannot give himself incessantly to labor, whether bodily or mental, but must have seasons of repose. We shrink from the thought and mention of suicide, but there are other modes of self-destruction than that of laying hands on one’s own person. There is the suicide of intemperance; there is also the suicide of over-labor. It is as much our duty to relax when we feel our strength overpassed, as to persevere while that strength is sufficient. God has, with tender consideration, provided intervals of repose, and so made it a man’s own fault if he sink beneath excessive labor. What a beautiful ordinance is that of day and night! What a gracious appointment is that of Sunday! When the Sabbath is spent in the duties that belong to it, its influence gives fresh edge to the blunted human powers. At last we must all wear away, but our comfort is that, though the outer man perish, the inner man shall be renewed day by day. Melvill.

Man goes forth to work and do good. There is the work of every day, which is to be done in its day, which man must apply to every morning, for the lights are set up for us to work by, not to play by, and which we must stick to till evening; it will be time enough to rest when the night comes, in which no man can work. H.

Every Christian, whatever he is doing, should be laboring for that which endures to everlasting life. His toil should not have self for its end, but God and Christ, and, in them, the good of suffering, sinful humanity. When others, with every fresh gain, put only the question, What more can I do for myself? he is to ask, What more can I do for Christ and His cause? What more for man? The Christian will not have less security for his own maintenance, but all the more. He will have his daily bread by his Lord’s prayer, but then he works for it, not as an absolute owner of himself or of his labor, but as a steward; and all his business, in the dullest cities where he toils, has spires pointing Godward and heavenward. Men may call this ideal and impracticable, but it has been largely realized by some—it is, in a degree, by many—and it is the only thing that can redeem human business from being dreary, degrading toil, and man himself from feeling that he is a mere beast of burden. It will carry comfort and dignity into every day of our life, and every hour of the day, if we bear this precept with us: “Whether therefore ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.” Ker.

To live in a perpetual day and have what we call the hours of business ceaseless, even as the flow of rivers, would leave us no room for reflection. Our soul would be blind to itself by reason of the perpetual seeing of our eyes. God therefore draws a curtain over His light, checks the busy hours of work and the turmoil of trade, and recalls us to moods of silence and meditative thoughtfulness in the depths of our own spirit. Another day is gone, its works are ended. Am-

Ambition has spent the fever of another day. Pleasure has exhausted her charms. Idleness itself is weary. And now, as the world grows still and excitement dies away, the mind calls off its activity and turns it inward on itself. It hears no call of God, perhaps, and thinks of doing nothing as a duty. But a pause has come, and something it must think of, for it cannot stand still. Detained by nothing now on hand, it travels far, and makes a large review. It takes in, as it were, by snatches, other worlds. It touches the springs of its own immortal wants, and they answer quick and heavily. Whatever wrong has been committed stalks into the mind with an appalling tread. If God is a subject unwelcome, and guilt another even more unwelcome, the moral nature has so great advantage now, and, withal, so great sensibility that the door of the soul is held open to things not welcome. All those highest and most piercing truths that most deeply concern the great problem of life will often come nigh to thoughtful men in the dusk of their evenings and their hours of retirement to rest. The night is the judgment-bar of the day. Bushnell.

Until the evening. Not in the daytime only, lest we begin to run well, but fall away before our course is ended. The end is the proof of the matter. When the sun shines, this earth pleases; but let us look toward that eventide and the cool of the day, when the Lord of the vineyard will walk amid the trees of the garden, and say unto His steward, “Call the laborers, and give them their hire, beginning from the last unto the first.” That evening will be the trial, when the heat, and fever, and noise of the noontide are over, and the light fades, and the prospect saddens, and the shades lengthen, and the busy world is still. May that day and that hour ever be in our thoughts. Newman.—There is nothing more impressive than to stand amid a great city at dead of night, when labor rests, “And all that mighty heart is lying still!” Thus is it when life’s day is over. Of what pertains to this present time, no more can be done. The season of trial and of labor for our fellows is over; it is the hour of sleep. The time of study, for this life, is over; the time of earthly plans; the time of bold adventure; it is the hour of sleep. “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.” And yet that grave is not so much a tomb as a resting-place, a cemetery. How much more lovely and more Christian would our graveyards be if they had more of heaven and less of earth ; more of rest in that blessed sleep, and less of the restless pursuit of human glory ; more of our oneness in Christ, and less of our earthly caste and separation ! J. W. A.

24. In wisdom Thou hast made them all.** The natural and appropriate reflection from such a survey of God’s works in the material world and in His general providence. What wisdom shines forth in all these wonderful adaptations of earth to man and beast ! C.—Every essence created or uncreated hath its final cause, and some positive end both of its essence and operation ; this is the cause I grope after in the works of nature, on this hangs the providence of God ; to raise so beauteous a structure as the world and the creatures thereof was but His art, but their sundry and divided operations with their predestinated ends are from the treasury of His wisdom. Browne.—How many millions of wonders doth the very face of the earth offer me ; which of these herbs, flowers, trees, leaves, seeds, fruits, is there ; what beast, what worm, wherein we may not see the footsteps of a Deity ? wherein we may not read infiniteness of power, of skill ? What shall we say to thee, the Maker of all these ? " O Lord, how wonderful are Thy works in all the world ! in wisdom hast thou made them all." And in all these Thou spakest, and they were done. Thy will is Thy word, and Thy word is Thy deed. Bishop H.

The countless numbers, the immense distances, the prodigious magnitudes, and the regular movements of the heavenly bodies, present views of the might, the majesty, and the wisdom of the Supreme Being, such as overwhelm the mind with devout amazement. These views have increased in clearness and extent, in proportion to the progress of science and of astronomical discovery. No faults or blemishes are ever detected ; but as the researches of philosophy have extended, new causes of admiration have been ever presenting themselves in every department of nature that has come under the cognizance of man. R. Wardlaw.—The pure light which gilds the whole world around is not a colorless, nor even a one-colored ray, but is the blending of all the prismatic hues ; and every substance absorbs and rejects these hues in varying degrees, and hence the manifold beauty which surrounds us on every side. Search where we will, every climate has its own varieties of flora and fauna, its own peculiarities of soil and vegetation, its own development of life. And the geologist has disclosed to us vast ages of bygone time teeming with active existence ; animals as perfect as those of the present day, and as well fitted to perform their part in the world’s great drama, and yet filling us with astonishment as we notice how unlike they are to everything which exists now. And the vast and gigantic vegetation among which they roamed is of forms which, if they now exist at all, do so only in dwarfed and stunted growth. Wherever we look we feel that variety is the law of creation. In the words of the Psalmist, we exclaim, " O Lord, how manifold are Thy works !" R. P. S.

The indications of wisdom are the more perfect and complete in proportion to the extent of the plan, the diversity and complicated nature of the operations to be performed, and the greatness of the exigencies to be provided for, in effecting a given result. The plan of the Almighty’s works has no limits ; His operations are infinitely diversified ; exigencies without end have to be provided for ; but Divine wisdom comprehends the whole, meets every exigency, and secures the ultimate fulfilment of all His purposes. If we look through the economy of nature we shall see these features of wisdom illustrated in all God’s works. W. Cooke.

The earth is full of Thy riches. As of old, at the foundation of the earth, the submerging waters at His word fled " above the firmament," or " hasted" into the channels prepared for them, so still, within the narrower " bound" that He has set lest they " cover the earth" again, " they go up by the mountains, they go down by the valleys." The cloud-wains are overturned upon the heights where they have climbed, for He " watereth the hills from His chambers"—those same " chambers" in the salted sea—the " springs go through the valleys," they " run among the hills" and " the earth is satisfied." Considering that even in our day the " actual process of producing rain is not yet fully known ;" considering the variety of the powers that conjoin in the process described—gravitation, light, heat, electricity, elastic diffusion ; considering the tremendous energy involved, since " to evaporate water enough to cover one hundred miles surface with one inch of rain requires force equal to the combustion of half a million tons of coal," do not these words that follow seem most fit : " O Lord, how manifold are Thy works ! in wisdom hast Thou made them all ; the earth is full of Thy riches." J. B. Thomas.

25. Here is the sea, great and wide on all hands ; there are moving things, and without number, small animals with great. The exclamation or reflection in the preceding verse affords a transition to the survey of other parts of the creation, no less striking in themselves and as proofs or illustrations of the Maker’s wisdom. Such is the sea, or here, for instance, is the sea, are the phrases which would probably be used in our idiom to introduce the first example. The same thing was probably intended by the Hebrew phrase, this (is) the sea, as if the speaker at the same time pointed to it. A.

Things innumerable, both small and great. The number of minute forms of animal life is indeed beyond all reckoning; a single phosphorescent wave may bear millions of infusoria, and around a fragment of rock armies of microscopic beings may gather. Nor are these tiny creatures the only tenants of the sea, for it contains gigantic mammals which exceed in bulk those which range the land, and a vast host of huge fishes which wander among the waves, and hide in the caverns of the sea. S.

26. There the ships go—leviathan—this (that) Thou hast formed to play therein. While the ships connect the sea with man’s activity and interests, leviathan, the standing representative of aquatic monsters, may be here put for the population of the sea itself. To play therein, as in his native element. (Compare Job 40 : 20.) A.—Leviathan is made to “play in the sea;” he hath nothing to do as man hath, that “goes forth to his work;” he hath nothing to fear as the beasts have, that lie down in their dens; and therefore he plays with the waters. It is pity any of the children of men, that have nobler powers and were made for nobler purposes, should live as if they were sent into the world like the leviathan into the waters, to play therein, spending all their time in pastime. H.

28. Thou givest to them, they gather; Thou openest Thy hand, they are filled (with) food. The point of the significant antithesis is this, that God as easily bestows as they receive. He has only to give, they have only to gather. He has but to open His hand, and they are instantly provided, even to satiety. Filled, satisfied, abundantly supplied, as in v. 13. A.

God is a bountiful Benefactor. He gives the creatures their meat; He opens His hand, and they are filled with good. He is open-handed in the gifts of his bounty, and is a great and good Housekeeper, that provides for so large a family. They are patient expectants from Him. They all wait upon Him; they seek their food according to the natural instinct God has put into them, and in the proper season for it; and affect not any other food or at any other time than nature has ordained; they do their part for the obtaining of it; what God gives them they gather, and expect not that Providence should put it into their mouths; and what they gather they are satisfied with; they are filled with good; they desire no more than what God sees fit for them, which may shame our discontent and dissatisfaction with our lot. H.

To make our reliance upon Providence both pious and rational, we should in every great enterprise we take in hand prepare all things with that care, diligence, and activity, as if there were no such thing as Providence for us to depend on; and again, when we have done all this we should as wholly and humbly depend upon it as if we had made no preparations at all. And this is a rule of practice which will never fail or shame any who shall venture their all upon it. South.

29. Thou hidest Thy face, they are confounded; Thou withdrawest their breath, they expire, and to their dust return. The hiding of God’s face here means the suspension or withdrawing of the various benefits before described. They are troubled is, in every case, a feeble version of one of the strongest words in the language. Even confounded, though much stronger, does not perfectly convey the idea, which is that of being agitated, terror-stricken, or convulsed. A.

29, 30. The preservation of the world rests continually on the same foundation as the creation—viz., on God’s word of command, which He utters continually, or, as it is also expressed, sends forth; and it rests just as continually on the Divine Spirit, which He causes ever to go forth. The main passage for this Divine communication of the Spirit which continues in the preservation of the world is this: “Thou takest away their (the creatures’) spirit, and they die, and turn again to their dust; Thou sendest forth Thy Spirit, and they are created; and Thou renewest the form of the earth.” Oehler.—That is a true axiom in divinity, Providence is creation continued. Now the Spirit of God, who created at first, creates to this day: “Thou sendest forth Thy spirit, they are created.” The work of creation was finished in the first six days of the world, but the work of creation is renewed every day, and so continued to the end of the world. Successive providential creation as well as original creation is ascribed to the Spirit. “And Thou renewest the face of the earth.” God makes a new world every year, sending forth His Spirit, or quickening power, in the rain and sun to renew the face of the earth. And as the Lord sends forth His power in providential mercies, so in providential judgments. Caryl.

As creation is the will of God that things should exist and begin to be, so providence is the will of God that things should continue to be. The created world continues by the very same power which caused it to begin. This preservation of all things is the first act of Providence, and that without which other acts would have been impossible. None but God, the infinite One, can be conceived of as competent to so great a work. It demands for its execution omniscience, to know the universe which is to be preserved, and to know how to preserve it; omnipresence, to apply this Divine knowledge in every place; and omnipotence, to carry out the amazing work on the immensity of things. J. W. A.

30. Thou renewest the face of the earth.** The first voice we hear speaks directly for God, for the Divine existence and presence with us in His works. “The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God.” Nature says in her heart, and in every color and feature of her flushing face, “There is a God, and He is here!” The spring sings a clear song of the Divine faithfulness. Every spring is with God the keeping of covenant. He is, as it were, conducting an argument as to His own fidelity. The season tells us softly and melodiously of Divine tenderness. God takes this season of the year to tell us especially what tenderness, what delicacy, what colorings of exquisite beauty there are in His nature. In Him are all the archetypes of beauty and all the fountains of tenderness; we may therefore commit ourselves and all we have to His keeping. Spring has a voice of good cheer to all who are serving God faithfully and seeking good ends for themselves or for others, although as yet with little apparent result. For when does it come? Immediately after the winter. This tells us never to despair, never to despond. God needs the winter for souls to prepare for the spring; but He never forgets to bring the spring when the time has come. The spring has a voice which sounds away into the far future, and foretells “the time of the restitution of all things.” Spring gives announcement of the general resurrection from the dead, while it tells us that all our earthly time is the spring season of our existence. A. Raleigh.

31-35. The Psalm closes with the prayer that the glory of that God who has thus manifested His glory in creation may endure forever, and that He who looked with loving approbation upon His works when they were first created, pronouncing all “very good,” may ever rejoice in them; for He is a God awful in His majesty, one whose look makes the earth tremble, one whose touch consumes the mountains, one who could in a moment blot out the creation He has made. P.—A greater truth still succeeds and forms the climax of the Psalm (a truth Humboldt, with all his admiration of it, notices not, and which gives a Christian tone to the whole), “The Lord shall rejoice in His works.” He contemplates a yet more perfect Cosmos. He is “to consume sinners” and sin “out of” this fair universe; and then, when man is wholly worthy of His dwelling, shall God say of both it and him with a yet deeper emphasis than when He said it at first, “It is very good.” And with an ascription of blessing to the Lord does the poet close this almost angelic descent upon the works of nature, the glory of God, and the prospects of man. It is not merely the unity of the Cosmos that He has displayed in it, but its progression as connected with the parallel progress of man; its thorough dependence on one Infinite Mind; the “increasing purpose” which runs along it, and its final purification, when it shall blossom into the “bright consummate flower” of the new heavens and the new earth “wherein dwelleth righteousness;” this is the real burden and the peculiar glory of the one hundred and fourth Psalm. Gilfillan.

32. God has only to look at the earth to make it quake. He has only to touch the mountains and they smoke. His controlling and terrifying acts are as prompt and easy as His acts of grace. There seems to be a reference to the words of Moses in describing the effects of the theophany at Sinai, when its summit smoked, and its very roots or bases were on fire. To those familiar with the constant use of mountains as a symbol of great monarchies, this verse would necessarily suggest the thought that God’s power over states is no less absolute than that which He exercises over individuals, or over the inanimate creation.

33. I will sing to Jehovah while I live, I will make music to my God while I still (exist). This is the Psalmist’s conclusion from the view which he has taken, with respect to his own interest and duty. If the Lord be such a God to all His creatures, then I can do no better than expend the remainder of my life in praising Him. The two verbs are those continually joined to denote vocal and instrumental praise. The phrase translated while I live means literally in my life or lives. A.—This resolution is the use which he makes of the endless duration of the glory of God, and will extend to all other service as well as praise. To serve other things or to serve ourselves is to waste a service upon that which is nothing. In devoting ourselves to God we serve Him by whom all things are what they are; who hath both eternal knowledge to remember our service, and eternal goodness to reward it. Charnock.

34. My meditation of Him shall be sweet. Meditation is the calm and quiet dwelling of the mind upon a great fact till that fact has time to get into the mind and pervade it with its influence. Meditation is the quiet thinking on single truths, the steady setting of attentive thought drawn away from other things and concentrated on this alone. E. Garrett.—Only man can meditate. Only renewed man’s meditation is sweet to himself or his God. M.—Not merely will he sing; he will ponder incessantly on that with which his heart is specially filled, for never was there more sublime material for thought. What has such power of blessing as to meditate on God, the infinitely Rich, the eternally Faithful, the spotlessly holy, the unparalleled in mercy, the Sun of His people, the Fountain of all blessing; to delight one’s self in the contemplation of His marvellous works and ways; to wander, as it were, in the sanctuary of His word, and to lose one’s self in the ocean of His glory? Meditation regarding Him raises our spirit above all the vicissitudes around us. It sustains our courage amid all that fails and forsakes us. It hallows our life, because to the humblest occupation it lends a more exalted devotion, for the most wearisome duty it imparts life and energy, and in the daily conflict with sin it provides an invincible helper. Van O.

I will be glad in the Lord. Sweet meditation causes gladness in the Lord, inspires us with love to Him, and inclines us to ascribe the glory of all we enjoy to Him. Saints in all ages have one and the same delightful object to meditate upon; the soul under the sweet exercise of grace knows no end of it; nor how to leave off meditating on Hret who hath loved us poor sinners with an everlasting love, and saved us with an everlasting salvation. His person is wonderful, God and man in one Christ; the love of Christ passeth knowledge; the offices of Christ, as King, Priest, and Prophet, Mediator, Surety, Redeemer, Saviour, how glorious in their nature! The blood of Christ, how precious! His righteousness, how perfect! His death, how affecting! His resurrection, how joyful! The salvation of Christ, how comforting! His intercession, how prevailing! His grace in the heart, how sin-subduing and soul-purifying! His almighty power in keeping us through faith unto eternal salvation, how animating! and the perfect sight and full enjoyment of Jesus in glory, how transporting! Contemplations on these blessed subjects will cause us to cry out: “My meditation of Him shall be sweet; I will be glad in the Lord.” W. Mason.

The key to the frame of mind expressed in this verse is contained in a single word of the first: “Lord my God.” Then only, but then assuredly, when the unseen Jehovah has become to us in the absolute sense of the words not merely God, but personally our God, toward whom through faith we stand in the closest, most cordial relation; then, when we contemplate Him in the light of His own revelation, in the kingdom of nature, but specially in that of grace, with a clearer belief; when, above all, our conscience in spite of all imperfections testifies of unfeigned uprightness before Him; then we not merely say, “My meditation on Him shall be sweet,” but, “I will rejoice in the Lord;” and so the Psalm of life ends at last in this final chord, “Praise the Lord, O my soul!” Van O.

35. The truest, highest harmony of creation is this: God finding pleasure in His creatures, His reasonable creatures finding their joy in Him. But this harmony has been rudely broken; the sweet notes of the vast instrument of the universe are “jangled out of tune.” Sin is the discord of the world. Sin has changed the order into disorder. Hence the prophetic hope (v. 35) that sinners shall be consumed, that the wicked shall be no more, and thus the earth shall be purified, the harmony be restored, and God once more, as at the first, pronounce His creation “very good.” In the prospect of such a consummation, the poet calls upon his own soul, and upon all around him, to bless and praise Jehovah. P.

This is the first place where hallelujah ("Praise ye the Lord") occurs in the Book of Psalms. It is produced by a retrospect of creation, and by the contemplation of God’s goodness in the preservation of all the creatures of His hand, and also by a prospective view of that future Sabbath when, by the removal of evil men from communion with the good, God will be enabled to look on His works, as He did on the first Sabbath, before the Tempter had marred them, and see “everything very good.” Chr. Wordsworth.

This is the first time that we meet with hallelujah, and it comes in here upon occasion of the destruction of the wicked; and the last time we meet with it, it is upon the like occasion; when the New Testament Babylon is consumed, this is the burden of the song, “hallelujah”

(Rev. 19 : 1, 3, 4, 6). H.—The connection of thought between this closing verse and the rest of the Psalm does not lie on the surface, but beneath it. When we come fully into sympathy with the writer, impressed as he was with the glory of God in all His works, with His goodness, His love, His parental care of every living thing, we shall begin to understand why he should cry out, Let the enemies of such a God be consumed from the face of the earth; let them be no more! As for me, my whole being cries out, “Bless the Lord, O my soul!” Oh, all ye people, praise the Lord! C.

The Psalms afford unquestionable evidence of a profound sensibility to nature. On the whole, they enter little into details; look at nature in the mass, and view the natural almost exclusively in relation to the supernatural. Grandeur, solemnity, sublimity, awful thoughtfulness about man, not color, softness, or warmth of sentiment are their characteristics. A Divine reserve, it may be added, guards their sublimity from extravagance. Humboldt.

In the grand generalizations of Humboldt there are some admirable disclosures of the nature of the connection between the physical phenomena of sublimity and beauty, and their exciting effect upon the soul. The following passage from the Cosmos goes far toward the spiritual light going and returning between God’s two revelations of the Scriptures and the worlds. “In the uniform plain, bounded only by the distant horizon, where the lowly heather, the cistus, or waving grasses deck the soil; on the ocean shore, where the waves, softly rippling over the beach, leave a track, green with the weeds of the sea; everywhere the mind is penetrated by the same sense of the grandeur and vast expanse of nature, revealing to the soul, by a mysterious inspiration, the existence of laws that regulate the forces of the universe. Mere communion with nature, mere contact with the free air, exercise a soothing yet strengthening influence on the wearied spirit, calm the storm of passion, and soften the heart when shaken by sorrow to its inmost depths. Everywhere in every region of the globe, in every stage of intellectual culture, the same sources of enjoyment are alike vouchsafed to man. The earnest and solemn thoughts awakened by a communion with nature intuitively arise from a presentiment of the order and harmony pervading the whole universe, and from the contrast we draw between the narrow limits of our own existence and the image of infinity revealed on every side, whether we look upward to the starry vault of heaven, or scan the farart stretching plain before us, or seek to trace the dim horizon across the vast expanse of ocean.” G. B. C.

The true conception is given in the Old Testament, which finds God not simply the Creator of the universe, but ever therein. The first chapter of Genesis has a counterpart in Psalm 104. Creation in the beginning by an absolute fiat passes over into an unfolding preservation by a continued presence. The whole universe exists in God, as the stars in the ether, as the clouds in the air; the whole universe floats on the pulsing bosom of God. Nature is His outer garment. All her movements are of Him: the thunder is His voice, the lightning from His mouth, the earthquake His anger, the light His garment, the clouds His chariot, the winds His messengers, the ice from His breath. His throne is above the cherubim, symbols of the living powers of nature. But He is never identified with nature. His immanence is not pantheistic. He giveth life to all, is the life of all, is in all natural phenomena, but is independent, apart, separate, and Lord of all. E. L. Curtis.—It is not easy to conceive a sublimer characteristic of the Hebrew poetry than this, that it treats all creation as a mere shadow, and finds the essence of its beauty, as well as the sustaining power of its life, in the spiritual world. W. R. H. Hutton.

God, the everywhere present, enwrapping, upholding, penetrating through and through each creature of His hand, yet in His uncreated essence distinct from all, is before the Psalmist’s soul. Man, if he would, cannot be where God is not, cannot place himself outside this all-pervading ubiquity of God. Thus the universe is the temple of God, and the Spirit of God dwells in it. This is the most direct lesson of Psalm 104. God is as truly present with the lowest as with the highest forms of life; He is as present with the lowest, and wildest, and fiercest animals, with every variety of tree and plant, with primary rocks, and with slow processes of mineral transformations proceeding through unmeasured ages deep beneath the earth’s crust, with heavenly bodies moving, in their undeviating obedience to law, through trackless space, as with glorified men, as with archangels. He cannot but be thus everywhere present; He cannot contract His illimitable Being, and make corners in His universe where He is not. And there are not, properly speaking, degrees of His presence, although there are various modes of its manifestation. He is everywhere, in all the proper intensity and force of His Being, simply because He is God. H. P. L.

Which way soever God governs the world, and what influence soever He has over men’s minds, we are sure that the governing and preserving His own workmanship is so plainly a perfection that it must belong to a being infinitely perfect; and there is such a chain in things—those of the greatest consequence arising often from small and inconsiderate ones—that we cannot imagine a Providence, unless we believe everything to be within its care and view. Bishop Burnet.—There is no power in nature, or in works of man’s device, but God; no law but Divine volition; no process but Divine performance. Gravitation is one mode of Providence; magnetism, another; electricity, another; Providence is attraction and repulsion, cohesion and explosion, flood-tide and ebb-tide, sunrise and sunset, motion and rest. All the energies of nature are methods of Divine activity, and all the phenomena of nature are phases of the one eternal Presence. F. H. Hedge.

The grand simplicity of the law of attraction which pervades the universe, controlling equally what is vast and what is minute, the near and the remote, constraining all to orderly and harmonious movement, exalts our conception of the sublime control of God’s great law of love, by which the universe of moral being is controlled and harmonized, and made to circle around Himself. In “the permanent and stable course of nature, resulting from the balance and neutralization of contrary tendencies;” centripetal struggling with centrifugal forces; winds battling with waves, heat with cold, acid with alkali, pole set over against pole, free play allowed to mutually conflicting affinities and opposing properties, yet all so adjusted as to form a perfect equilibrium which the roll of ages cannot disturb, there is presented an impressive counterpart to God’s providential agency, in which all things work together for good, in which evil agencies and sinful passions and wicked men are made to thwart and check each other, and to promote instead of disturbing the wise and holy and beneficent purposes of the great Creator. W. H. G.—The phenomena which prove the existence of God also demonstrate that He delights in the happiness of His creatures. For it is conceivable that the world might have been filled with adaptations as wonderful as any of the existing ones, but all of them of a diametrically opposite character. The exquisitely formed joints of the animal frame might, in the very delicacy of their organism, have communicated the more exquisite pain. The plants of the earth might have grown to nourish the bodies of animals only as the food spread through the organs to torture every member. The sunbeams, instead of gladdening all nature, might have struck every living being as with a succession of spear-points to harass and annoy. How delightful to find that every adaptation indicating design also indicates benevolence, and that we have as clear evidence of the goodness as of the very existence of God! M’Cosh.

The glorious Person who in the Scriptures is designated by the appellation, the Word of God, “in the beginning created the heavens and the earth,” and said, “Let there be a firmament, and there was a firmament.” His hand also lighted up the flame of the sun, and kindled the stars. He “upholds” the universe “by the word of His power,” and preserves order and regularity throughout all the parts of this amazing system. In the heavens He shines with inexpressible splendor. On the earth He lives and works, provides and sustains, and satisfies the wants of every living thing. Throughout immensity He quickens into life, action, and enjoyment the innumerable multitudes of intelligent beings. The universe which He made, He also governs. The worlds of which it is composed He rolls through the infinite expanse with an almighty and unwearied hand, and preserves them in their respective places and motions with an unerring harmony. From the vast storehouse of His bounty He feeds and clothes the endless millions whom His hand has made, and from the riches of His own unchangeable mind, informs the innumerable host of intelligent creatures with ever improving virtue, dignity, and glory. To all these He allots the respective parts which they are qualified to act in the boundless system of good which His wisdom contrived, and His power has begun to execute; furnishes them with the means of being useful in His eternal kingdom; and thus prepares them to be amiable and excellent in His sight, and instruments of perpetually increasing good to each other. At the head of this great kingdom He “sits upon a throne high and lifted up,” “far exalted above all heavens;” surveys, with intuitive view, and with Divine complacency, the amazing work which His voice has called into being, and beholds it increasing without intermission in happiness, wisdom, and virtue, and advancing with a regular progress toward consummate glory and perfection. Dwight.

Nature will serve him who serves her God; and all her varied powers and agencies will rejoice to obey the behests and minister to the welfare of one who is the loved and loving child of their great Master and Lord. The earth will be fulfilling its proper function in yielding you