Psalms 29

8. David thinks first of all of the people, then of himself; for his personality retreats behind his office, in virtue of which he is Israel’s head. For that very reason his deliverance is the deliverance of Israel, to whom so far as they have become unfaithful to His anointed, Jehovah has requited this unfaithfulness, and to whom so far as they have remained faithful to him, He has rewarded this fidelity. D.

The saints rejoice in their friends’ comforts as well as their own; for as we have not the less benefit by the light of the sun, so neither by the light of God’s countenance, for others sharing therein; for we are sure there is enough for all, and enough for each. This is our communion with all saints, that God is their strength and ours; Christ their Lord and ours. H.—

The heavenly experience of one believer is a pattern of the life of all. To all the militant Church, without exception, Jehovah is the same as He was to His servant David, “The least of them shall be as David.” They need the same aid and they shall have it, for they are loved with the same love, written in the same book of life, and one with the same anointed Head. S.

9. Israel’s salvation and blessing were at stake, but Israel is God’s people and God’s inheritance—may He then work salvation for them, and bless them throughout all the future. D.—Thy people, Thine inheritance. In those words are his plea with God. It is impossible not to see, in these tender, loving words, “Feed them and bear them,” the heart of the shepherd-king. Feed them, O Thou true Shepherd of Israel; bear them, carry them in Thine arms (Isa. 63: 9; 40: 11). P.

1. 1 GIVE unto the LORD, O ye sons of the mighty, Give unto the LORD glory and strength. 2. 2 Give unto the LORD the glory due unto his name; Worship the LORD in the beauty of holiness. 3. 3 The voice of the LORD is upon the waters: The God of glory thundereth, Even the LORD upon many waters. 4. 4 The voice of the LORD is powerful; The voice of the LORD is full of majesty. 5. 5 The voice of the LORD breaketh the cedars; Yea, the LORD breaketh in pieces the cedars of Lebanon. 6. 6 He maketh them also to skip like a calf; Lebanon and Sirion like a young wild-ox. 7. 7 The voice of the LORD cleaveth the flames of fire. 8. 8 The voice of the LORD shaketh the wilderness; The LORD shaketh the wilderness of Kadesh. 9. 9 The voice of the LORD maketh the hinds to calve, And strippeth the forests bare: And in his temple every thing saith, Glory.

2. 1 GIVE unto Jehovah, ye sons of God, Give unto Jehovah glory and might! 2. 2 Give unto Jehovah the glory of his name, Pay homage to Jehovah in holy pomp! 3. 3 The voice of Jehovah is upon the waters, The God of glory thundereth, Jehovah is upon the great waters. 4. 4 The voice of Jehovah goeth forth in power, The voice of Jehovah goeth forth in majesty. 5. 5 The voice of Jehovah breaketh the cedars, Yea, Jehovah breaketh the cedars of Lebanon. 6. 6 And maketh them skip like a calf, Lebanon and Sirion like a young antelope. 7. 7 The voice of Jehovah flameth forth quivering fire. 8. 8 The voice of Jehovah shaketh the wilderness, Jehovah shaketh the wilderness of Kadesh. 9. 9 The voice of Jehovah maketh the hinds to calve, He strippeth the forest— And in his temple everything saith: “Glory!”

10. The LORD sat as king at the Flood ;

Yea, the LORD sitteth as king for ever.

11. The LORD will give strength unto his people ;

The LORD will bless his people with peace.

THE essential idea in this Psalm is the same as in the twenty-eighth, that God is the strength of His people, but clothed in a different costume, the Divine power being proved or exemplified by its exertion in the elements, and then applied, in the close, to the believer’s consolation. The Psalmist first invokes the heavenly host to celebrate their sovereign’s honor. He then describes Jehovah’s voice as producing the most striking physical effects, and represents it as belonging to the same God who presided at the deluge and who now protects and will continue to protect and bless His people. The notion that this Psalm is merely a description of a thunder-storm or of Jehovah as the God of thunder, may be corrected by observing that the last verse gives the key-note of the whole composition. A.

This Psalm is a magnificent description of a thunder-storm. Its mighty march from north to south, the desolation and terror which it causes, the peal of the thunder, the flash of the lightning, even the gathering fury and lull of the elements, are vividly depicted. The Psalm consists of five parts : a prelude, the body of the poem in three divisions, and a conclusion. The structure of the whole is highly artificial, and elaborated with a symmetry of which no more perfect specimen exists in Hebrew. But this evidently artificial mode of composition is no check to the force and fire of the poet’s genius, which kindles and glows and sweeps along with all the freedom and majesty of the storm ; the whole Psalm being one continued strain of triumphant exultation.

In the prelude the singer lifts our thoughts at once from earth to heaven, by calling on the angels who stand around the throne of God to praise Him who manifests His glory in the thunder and lightning which He sends upon the earth (vs. 1, 2). Then follows the description of the storm in the three strophes which constitute the main body of the poem. These are so constructed that the first (vs. 3, 4) gives us the beginning of the storm, the low, faint, muttering thunder in the distant heavens ; the next (vs. 5-7) describes the storm at its height, when it crashes the cedars and shakes the mountains ; the last (vs. 8, 9) tells how it passes on over the plain country to the forest of Kadesh in the south, where it dies away.

10. Jehovah hath sat on the flood,

And Jehovah sitteth a king for ever.

11. Jehovah will give power to his people,

Delitzsch.

But not only the arrangement of the three strophes, but the structure of each separate strophe, contributes in a very striking degree to the whole effect of the poem. Each consists of five members, and each begins with a fresh burst, and closes with a lull in the tempest. Thus, in the first strophe we hear the first, yet distant, sound of the thunder in the words : “The voice of Jehovah is upon the waters.” In the next two clauses : “The God of glory thundereth ; Jehovah is upon many waters,” the long, loud peal grows more distinct, while v. 4 again is pitched in a lower key, as if telling us of a pause in the storm. In the next strophe we have again, first, the renewed fury of the tempest, as, coming nearer yet, it falls on the glory of Lebanon, and breaks her cedars in its might : “The voice of Jehovah breaketh the cedars,” etc. Next, gathering with a wilder intensity of wrath, it bursts upon the mountain peaks, roaring amid their rocks and shattering them, and making the everlasting hills themselves to tremble as with the throes of an earthquake, so that “Lebanon and Sirion skip like young buffaloes.” Lastly, we hear it sinking down in the line which describes the flashing of the forked lightning : “The voice of Jehovah cleaveth the flames of fire” (vs. 5-7). In the third strophe the same structure is observable. One long peal after another has rolled and reverberated along the sky, and now the storm, in its jubilant strength, sweeps the whole land from north to south. Again it is up in its majesty : “The voice of Jehovah maketh the wilderness to tremble.” Again its last fury is poured out upon the wilderness of Kadesh. The very hinds bow themselves in travail-pangs, and the forest is torn open and laid bare, as the hurricane drives through it in its path. And again the tempest is stilled ; but this time its voice is hushed and lost forever in the music and songs of the heavenly host : “In His temple all that are therein cry, Glory” (vs. 8, 9).

The conclusion consists, like the prelude, of two verses, each of two members. And here we are beautifully reminded that Jehovah, whom the angels praise, and who both rules and stills the elements in their wildest uproar, is the same Jehovah who gives strength and peace to His people (vs. 10, 11). P.

There are in this Psalm, properly speaking, two scenes, each of which is the pendant of the other. One passes upon earth, where we see the raging hurricane. The colossal cedars of Lebanon are split in pieces; their gigantic trunks are torn from the ground, and leap as lightly as the ox in the meadow. The mountain itself groans and trembles, scourged by the tempest. The lightnings furrow a sky darker than the deepest night. Vast deserts, such as that of Kadesh, in the south of Canaan, where nothing stops the element, are swept by the hurricane. Their sand becomes a moving sea, the atmosphere an ocean chasing over its tossed bed and sweeping with it all which it meets in its passage. The trees which can resist are peeled and stripped bare. Beasts are seized with terror, and their convulsive shudderings make them anticipate the hour of nature. Man is nowhere in this description. He is mute, and retires before the terrible majesty of the spectacle. Above the horrible turmoil the Lord is seated majestically upon His throne. The flood which is about to sweep over the earth is the footstool of that throne. He contemplates it with a serene eye, and with His royal hand He will stay the elements when He pleases. Round Him the powers, which are His messengers, almost the priests of His heavenly sanctuary, clad in their sacred robes, press on to glorify Him. What a magnificent antithesis in a few lines! Reuss.

In their most literal and superficial expression, in words which no one can mistake, the Psalms set to music the first article of the Creed, “I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth,” and supply it with an exuberant and attractive commentary. This many-voiced republication of natural religion, this vivid, impassioned, picturesque assertion of the existence and attributes of God is of priceless value. Bishop Alexander.—In the mind of the writers the sense of outward nature was entirely subordinated to that of the presence of the God of nature. The sense of the invisible was an overmastering passion with them. Nature was but the robe with which the King of kings arrayed Himself, and the thought of His glory overpowered and swallowed up all other considerations that did not centre in Him. From first to last it is the personal God, the everlasting, ever-present, but invisible He, before whom the writer bows with reverential awe, but yet with the most unswerving and unbounded confidence. Leathes.

1,2. There are three gives in these two verses: “Give unto the Lord, give unto the Lord, give unto the Lord the glory that is due unto His name.” Glory is God’s right and He stands upon His right; this the Christian knows and therefore gives Him His right; he gives Him the honor and the glory that is due unto His name. T. Brooks.

The sons of God are the beings intermediate between God and man, sometimes called angels in reference to their office. The same application of the same phrase occurs in Psalm 89: 6. A.—This Psalm has to do with a revelation of the power of the God who is enthroned in the heavens and who from there rules the world. And so the Psalm at its commencement addresses the heavenly spirits that surround the Ruler of the world. The begotten of God, i.e., created in the image of God, who, with God their Father, form as it were one family (“the family above”), are here called upon willingly and joyfully to render back to Him in praises the acknowledgment of His glory and might, as these have been revealed and are yet to be revealed in the world He has created, and to give Him the glory of His name, i.e., to praise His glorious name. D.

2. Give to Jehovah the honor of His name; how to Jehovah in beauty of holiness. The honor of His name is that belonging to it, due to it. His name is His manifested nature. The verb in the last clause strictly means, bow down or prostrate yourselves in worship. A.—Religious worship is giving to the Lord the glory due to His name. God’s name is that whereby He has made Himself known. It is impossible that we should give Him all the glory due to His name; but when we answer that revelation which He has made of Himself with suitable affections and adorations, then we give Him some of that glory which is due to His name. If we would, in hearing and praying and other acts of devotion, receive grace from God, we must make it our business to give glory to God. H.

3-7. Now follows the description of the revelation of God’s power, which is the ground of the foregoing summons and is to be the subject of praise. The All-glorious One makes Himself heard in the voice of the thunder and reveals Himself in the storm. D.—Then the tempest breaks. It crashes and leaps through the short sentences, each like the clap of the near thunder. Seven times the roar shakes the world. The voice of the seven thunders is the voice of Jehovah. In the short clauses, with their uniform structure, the pause between, and the recurrence of the same initial words, we hear the successive peals, the silence that parts them, and the monotony of their unvaried sound.

Thrice we have the reverberation rolling through the sky or among the hills, imitated by clauses which repeat previous ones, as indicated by the italics, and one forked flame blazes out in the brief, lightning-like sentence, “The voice of Jehovah (is) hewing flashes of fire,” which wonderfully gives the impression of their streaming fiercely forth, as if cloven from some solid block of fire. A. M.

3. The “waters” and the “many waters” of this verse must be that mass of waters supposed to be recumbent upon the firmament, gathered there (and ever after remaining) when in the process of creation God divided between the waters above and those beneath this firmament (Gen. 1 : 6, 7). The Lord is conceived to sit upon these superincumbent waters, and the thunder which roars in the lofty clouds of heaven is thought of as His voice above this ocean of the heavens! C.

The voice of the Lord is upon the waters. The thunder is not only poetically but instructively called “the voice of God,” since it peals from on high. There is peculiar terror in a tempest at sea, when deep calleth unto deep, and the raging sea echoes to the angry sky. No sound is more calculated to inspire a reverent awe than the roar of the storm. S.

5. The voice of the Lord—His mighty thunder—rends the cedars, yea, the Lord shivers to atoms the cedars of Lebanon. The cedar represents the strongest kind of trees then known; those of Lebanon, the finest of their kind, yet none of these can withstand the might of Jehovah.

6. The parallel clause gives us Lebanon and Sirion (Hermon) and therefore favors the sense—the thunder shakes the very mountains. C.

7. With every thunder-peal comes the terrible forked lightning, so striking in tropical and Eastern lands. Its vivid, zigzag, serpent-like flash is given in a few words. Cleaveth the flames of fire; i.e., parts the blaze of the lightning, so as to give it the forked appearance.

8. Kadesh, in the south of Palestine, thus indicating the course taken by the storm. It sweeps the land from north to south. P.—Having spoken of God’s power as exerted on the mountains, he now says the same thing of the desert; and as the mountains which he specified were on the northern frontier, so the wilderness which he selects is that which bounded Palestine upon the south, the northern portion of the great Arabian desert, with which the Israelites had many strong associations, founded partly in their personal experience, but still more in their national history. It is in this point of view that the wilderness of Kadesh is here added to Mount Lebanon.

9. As if to show that the Divine control extends to things both small and great, the Psalmist passes suddenly from lofty mountains and vast deserts to the weakest animals, in whom the terror of His presence hastens the throes of parturition. He then returns to more imposing natural phenomena, such as the stripping of the leaves and branches from whole forests by a mighty wind, which, no less than the thunder, is to be regarded as the voice of God. The temple or palace mentioned in the last clause is not the temple at Jerusalem, nor any earthly structure, but heaven, or the whole frame of nature, considered as God’s royal residence. Throughout this palace, all of it, i.e., all its parts, its contents, or its inhabitants—with special reference perhaps to the angelic hosts invoked in v. 1, who are then described as doing what he there invites them to do—not merely speaks of His glory, as the English version has it, but says “Glory!” as their constant and involuntary exclamation. A.—All the while, like a mighty diapason sounding on through the tumult, the voice of the sons of God in the heavenly temple is heard proclaiming “Glory!”

10,11. The Psalm closes with lofty words of confidence, built on the story of the past, as well as on the contemplation of the present. “Jehovah sat throned for (i.e., to send on earth) the flood” which once drowned the world of old. “Jehovah will sit throned a King forever.” That ancient judgment spoke of His power over all the forces of nature in their most terrible form. So now and forever, all are His servants and effect His purposes. Then, as the tempest rolls away, spent and transient, the sunshine streams out anew from the softened blue over a freshened world, and every raindrop on the leaves twinkles into diamond light, and the end of the Psalm is like the after brightness; and the tranquil low voice of its last words is like the songs of the birds again as the departing storm growls low and faint on the horizon. “The Lord will bless His people with peace.” Thus, then, nature spoke to this devout heart. The silence was vocal; the darkness, bright; the tumult, order—and all was the revelation of a present God. A. M.

10. Jehovah at the flood sat (enthroned), and Jehovah sits (as) King to eternity. This verse must either be explained as introducing a new trait in the description of a tempest, that of a flood or inundation—or referred to the universal deluge, as the grandest instance of the natural changes which had been described. In favor of the latter explanation may be urged the intrinsic grandeur of the image which it calls up, its better agreement with the solemn declaration in the last clause, the peculiar fitness of a great historical example just in this place, and the invariable usage of the word to mean Noah’s flood. The sense of the whole verse may be thus expressed in paraphrase. The God whose voice now produces these effects is the God who sat enthroned upon the deluge, and this same God is still reigning over nature and the elements, and will control them forever. A.

The ebbings and flowings of this lower world and the tosses and revolutions of the affairs in it, give not the least shake to the repose or to the counsels of the Eternal Mind. He sits as Judge in all the affairs of the children of men, perfectly secure of the full accomplishment of all His own purposes and designs, in spite of all opposition. The perfect repose of the Eternal Mind may be our comfort under all the disquietments of our mind. We are tossed on earth and in the sea, but He sits in the heavens, where He has prepared His throne for judgment. He sits King forever; no period can or shall be put to His government. The administration of His kingdom is consonant to His counsels from eternity, and pursuant to His designs for eternity. H.—Jesus has the government upon His shoulders eternally; our interests in the most stormy times are safe in His hands; therefore let us worship Him, and rejoice evermore. S.

11. This Great God whose majesty and glory stand forth revealed in such appalling forms throughout this Psalm is the Jehovah—the faithful God of His trustful people, in covenant relation with them as their God and Friend, Almighty to save and to bless them. What have they to fear with such a God their Friend and Saviour? Jonathan Edwards gives us this experience: “When my heart was far from God, every thunder-storm was a terror; but when I came near to Him in loving trust through Jesus Christ, I used to look out with inexpressible delight upon the black thunder-clouds, saying to myself, That is my God!”. C.

Power was displayed in the hurricane whose course this Psalm so grandly pictures; and now, in the cool calm after the storm, that power is promised to be the strength of the chosen. He who wings the unerring bolt, who shakes the earth with His voice, will terrify the enemies of His saints, and give His children peace. Why are we weak when we have Di-

Divine strength to flee to? Why are we troubled when the Lord’s own peace is ours? Jesus the mighty God is our peace. S.—Our English word peace comes from the Latin pas. Pax itself is derived from a root pag, which means to fix. Thus peace is fixedness of mind, equilibrium of heart, the secret tranquillity of the soul at rest from disquieting cares, anxieties, and wants. P. Norton.

Happiness is the result of harmony between our wants as creatures and the world without; peace is the harmony between us as spiritual beings and the Father of our spirits. The one is as changeable as the objects or circumstances on which it relies; the other is as unchangeable as the God on whom it eternally rests. We may thus possess real happiness and real peace; yet either may exist without the other. Nay, more; happiness may be destroyed by God in order that the blessing of peace may be possessed; but never will He take away peace to give happiness. Happiness without peace is temporal, but peace along with happiness, that indeed is eternal. N. McLeod.

It is not so much in the enjoyment of outward prosperity, nor in the possession of earthly blessings, nor in the praise of men, whether of the Church or the world, that our true wealth, or strength, or honor can chiefly lie. Rather these are in a heart purified from sin, lifted above the world, calm and humble in fellowship with God in Christ, recognizing love in all the Divine dealings, and welcoming His will as ever wise, kind, and true. Happiness is often the result of mere characteristic buoyancy, of vigorous bodily health, of material prosperity, in company with the enthusiasm of youth or the ardent activities of manhood; and while the utter absence of any deeper and more elevated feelings tends to make this happiness brighter and heartier, it is nevertheless the happiness of only the surface of our nature, perfectly compatible with irreligion or viciousness, of selfishness or vanity, subject at any moment to be hopelessly and terribly interrupted, and with nothing to fall back upon but the misery of its recollections. Whereas peace is independent of the changes and chances of life, and can no more be disturbed by what men call misfortune in its lofty dominion over the inmost spirit, than the depths of the ocean can be stirred by the winter gales that beat its surface into foam. Not only is it the gift of God, but it is His very presence. Sickness cannot destroy it; poverty cannot rob it of its incorruptible riches; bereavement only makes it more real, and the approach of death more deep. The world which cannot give it, cannot take it away; its root is in the immovable assurance of the Divine acceptance and favor through the blood and righteousness of the Saviour. It gradually spreads its roots over the entire spiritual being through the sanctifying power of the eternal Spirit; and while the only thing that can ruffle it is the silent reproach of a wounded conscience, the only thing in all the world to destroy it is sin. Thus, though we may not always be able to say we are happy, we may still have peace. Bishop Thorold.

He blesses His people with the full realization of His peace. How expressive in such a Psalm is this concluding word! It overarches it like a rainbow. The beginning of the Psalm shows us the heavens open, and the throne of God in the midst of the angelic songs of praise, and the conclusion of it shows us, upon the earth and in the midst of Jehovah’s voice of wrath as it shakes all things, His people victorious and blessed with peace. Gloria in excelsis is the beginning, and pax in terrus the close.

After the flood, the heavens were spanned with a rainbow, and the promise of “peace” was made to mankind once more. After the storm, which this Psalm describes; after the seven thunders, the blackened clouds, the flames of fire, the torn cedars of Lebanon, the devastated country, and the snapping of trees in the forests; after the peril that man and beast alike had been in, and during the raging of the storm; after all this, we see the “bow in the cloud.” For these two closing verses span the whole Psalm like a rainbow. They tell God’s people that His eye is on them; that He holds them, as well as the storm and the waters, in His hand, and they are safe. “The Lord will give strength unto His people; the Lord will bless His people with peace.” He will give them strength in the hour of weakness and peril. “In the time of dearth, they shall have enough.” He will be their arm every morning, and their salvation in every time of need. “Strength” most of all, when they need it most of all. They shall be in the “Ark” when His enemies are exposed to the storm outside. “Strength” according to their day. “As their day is their strength shall be”—“a very present help in time of trouble.” It is not then without the deepest meaning that the Psalmist assures us that “The Lord will give strength unto His people.”

But He will do more than this, because we want more. God promises more, and He will give more, “The Lord will bless His people with peace.” That is the rainbow in the cloud spanning this stormy Psalm. It touches earth and heaven. “Peace” after a stormy voyage, after a stormy life, in the midst of peril, when conscience accuses of sin. “Peace” such as passes man’s understanding, such as this world cannot give nor take away. “Peace” such as keeps the mind in an even and a heavenly frame, as a sentinel that guards a door, lest foes should get in and make havoc where God hath commanded peace. All this is in this promise, “The Lord will bless His people with peace.” The Lord “will” do this. D.

THE BEAUTY OF HOLINESS (v. 2).

Holiness is beautiful in its own nature. Not more certainly do we look upon the rainbow, as its arch spans the heavens, or listen to the song which fills the grove with melody, with an intuitive perception of their beauty, than we intuitively discover an intrinsic beauty in holiness. It is in itself beautiful and lovely. It consists in conformity to the law of God. It is the love of God and man manifested and acted out in Christian graces and moral virtues. Toward God it is the love that is supreme, and that is expressed in delightful complacency in his whole character; in gratitude for His goodness and mercy, and in adoring views of His greatness; in ingenuous sorrow for having offended Him, in implicit submission to His will and authority; in confidence in His truth, and a cheerful devotion to His service and glory. Toward man, it is the impartiality of a benevolent mind; kind and unenjoying; bearing and forbearing; gentle and unostentatious; meek and forgiving; unselfish and of seemly demeanor; unsuspicious, and at war only with wickedness; rejoicing in the truth and full of hope; confiding, unwearied, and it “never faileth.” No right-minded man can look upon such an assemblage of excellence, without pleasing and gratified emotions.

The beauty of holiness is apparent also in its benevolent tendencies. We are no advocates for the theory that utility constitutes either the essence, the foundation, or the measure of moral virtue. Because a course of conduct actually secures the well-being of others, or our own, it does not follow, that, on this account, it is virtuous; nor does it necessarily follow that it is virtuous, because this is its tendency. If there be no other criterion of moral rectitude than its benevolent effects, we see not how the inference can be repelled that there is no such thing as moral rectitude in the universe. If this be true, happiness is the supreme good, and moral rectitude is but the means of securing it. That it is not true, is perfectly obvious from the single fact, that all men naturally love happiness, and as naturally hate moral rectitude. Moral rectitude is the supreme good; it is the duty of men to pursue it as such; while there is no such excellence in mere happiness, nor are men ever justified in making it the supreme object of their pursuit. Holiness produces happiness; but it is as distinct from happiness as the cause is distinct from the effect. It is the tendency of holiness to produce happiness; but this tendency does not constitute it holiness. So far from its essential excellence consisting in its conduciveness to good, this conduciveness arises from its essential excellence. “It must be obvious to every mind, that a principle may in its nature, when put into practical exercise, be fitted to produce happiness, while yet the production of happiness is not that which constitutes the rectitude of the principle.” It is not holiness on account of its benevolent tendencies; it has these benevolent tendencies because it is holiness. Though it is holiness, irrespective of the good it produces, the good it produces is but a manifestation of its excellence.

And in this we see one of the beauties of holiness. Like its Divine Author, it not only “is good, but does good;” good is the native and appropriate result of it. The more accurately and extensively we mark the practical operation of it, the more do we perceive its wise and wholesome tendencies. Inspect its principles, analyze its emotions, trace out its influences; and you will see that the uniform and invariable tendency of them is to produce a happy state of mind. While “the wicked travaileth with pain all his days,” the “ways of wisdom are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace;” and while the former is “like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest,” a “good man is satisfied from himself.” Holiness, in all its forms, commends itself to man’s spiritual nature; it delights his intellect, interests his imagination, and satisfies his conscience; while in all the active pursuit of it, he is employed in occupations that consult his true honor and dignity. If it ever produces grief, and throws a shade of pensiveness over the soul, it is only for its own imperfection and the abounding iniquity of a world that lieth in wickedness; and even then it is a cherished sadness, and one by which the heart is made better. There is nothing in the most ardent and strongest holy emotions that produces satiety or weariness; nor is the mind ever so exhausted or used up by them as not to look forward to higher gratifications. The sources of enjoyment which it furnishes are never drained and never become impoverished. Its views are not unfrequently unutterably delightful views. Its powerful impressions of God’s truth, its sense of the Divine presence, its habits of devotion and obedience, are joys such as a stranger meddleth not with. It has the advantage over every other source of enjoyment in the habits it forms, the sins it subdues, the exalted end it aims at, and the immortality it seeks after. There is nothing except holiness, of which it may be said that it is uniformly conducive to good. No pleasures of sin have this tendency, because they are followed, and often immingled with remorse; because they are not lasting; because they lose their relish by repetition, and destroy the relish for purer and higher joys. No exemption from care and toil has this tendency; because man is formed for action, his nature requires thought and effort; lassitude and inertness are the bane even of his hopes. Nor have wealth, and splendor, and earthly honors, and princely power this tendency; rather do they create more desires than they gratify, jeopard more tranquillity than they secure, and not unfrequently leave their envied possessors themselves to envy the less agitated and more secure enjoyments of the more humble and unapiring. The greatest and most permanent of all sinful pleasures are never attended with the light of His countenance, whose favor is life, and whose loving-kindness is better than life.

These benevolent tendencies of holiness form one of its high commendations. Wherever it goes it is on errands of love. It drops like the rain and distils like the dew. There is no mind it influences that does not gratefully acknowledge its influence. Whatever bosom it dwells in, and whatever portion of the world it visits, but for its conflict with evil, it makes that portion of the world and that bosom happy. Nay, its very conflict with wickedness is proof of its loveliness; for it wars only with wickedness, wickedness which it would fain neutralize and eradicate; and though the process may produce agitation and effervescence, they are from causes which only indicate its intrinsic excellence. Its object is to reform and renovate; to illuminate and make happy; to “pour water upon him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground.” It is the great healer of the maladies that affect our race, gradually alleviating the curse upon man, and the curse upon the ground for man’s sake. It is the fountain which sends forth streams of gladness, immingled with no bitter ingredients; like waters which issued from the sanctuary, “everything shall live whither the river cometh.” And is there nothing beautiful in such benevolent tendencies? Is not the light beautiful which chases the darkness from so many minds curtained with the shadow of death? Is not the love beautiful which hears the sighing of the prisoner, and binds jarring humanity in one sweet brotherhood, so that they shall not hurt nor destroy in all God’s holy mountain? Is not the joy beautiful at which the mountains and the hills break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field clap their hands? The charms of nature, and the mere imitative creations of art, are limited and inferior departments of beauty’s empire. Purer loveliness and beauty far more attractive crown this work of God, compared with which the sweetest and most fragrant flower his hands have planted becomes shapeless and fades away. Bashan languish, and Carmel, and the flower of Lebanon languish; while the beauty of holiness never withers, nor is its leaf less green in the year of drought, nor does it ever cease from yielding fruit.

The beauty of holiness is still more conspicuous in contrast with the deformity of sin. Truth never appears so true and pure as when seen in contrast with error; nor is it ever so highly valued by its friends, as when, like the moon, walking in her brightness, it makes its path luminous amid a night of storms. So holiness never appears so beautiful and lovely as when contrasted with sin, and its varied colors are vividly painted upon the dark and retiring cloud of human wickedness. Look over the face of human society, and mark the career of the man, whose sin, shame, and misery multiply and augment the sin, shame, and misery of the world in which he dwells; who is worse than useless because he is the enemy of God and man, and the instrument of perdition to others. And then mark the career of the man whose character is an ornament to his race, who lives to be useful, whose wisdom, virtue, and honor make the world in which he lives brighter, and better, and happier. In such a view, who has not new and more vivid impressions of the beauty of holiness?

We may also inspect these opposites more closely and in some of their more distinctive attributes and characteristics. There is the malignity of sin; and the benevolence of holiness. There is the irritation, the resentment, the fury of sin; and the meekness, the forbearance, and the forgiving spirit of holiness. There is the fraud, the falsehood, the treachery of sin; and the honesty, the truth, the fidelity of holiness. There is the licentiousness, the debauch, the squalid wretchedness of sin; and the circumspection, the honor, and the purity of holiness. There is the ignoble meanness and egotism of sin; and the noble generosity and self-denial of holiness. There is the profanity of sin, setting its tongue against the heavens, and its mouth feeding on foolishness; and, on the other hand, there is the respect for God, the reverence for God, the worship and honor of God, where holiness presents its incense and a pure offering. On the one hand, there is the folly of sin, turning the Sabbath into a day of care, toil, and dissipation, and making the lives of men bitter with hard bondage; and, on the other, there is the weekly jubilee of holiness, enjoying its loved repose amid the quietness and devotions of God’s day of rest. Here there is the unhallowed avarice of sin, with all its host of evils to individuals, to families, to the world; there, there is the contentment of holiness, with all its innumerable train of blessings, chasing away from the hearts and habitations of men the thousand passions which agitate and torment. There is Nero singing on his lyre while Rome is wrapt in flames; and there is Paul exclaiming: “I am ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand.” There are angelic smiles and demoniac frowns. There is a miniature hell and a miniature heaven. And in this contrast has not holiness a beauty; and do we not contemplate it somewhat as angels contemplate it and with some measure of their joy?

There is a last thought we may not suppress in these illustrations; it relates to the beauty of holiness in the perfection which it is destined to attain in its own native world. If the beauty and glory of man’s nature consists, not only in what it is, but in what it is capable of being, and will be, his capacity for holiness must be regarded as the crown of that beauty and glory. No created mind can gauge that capacity, nor measure its attainments in rectitude.

In the strange and barbarous mixture of sin with holiness, as it exists in this fallen world, beautiful as it is, its perfect beauty is never seen. There are rare examples in which its lustre shines forth; but as exemplified in the great mass of good men, it has no such glory. Even in the best, its beauty is defaced, is marred with blemishes, and has alloy and wickedness. Abraham must equivocate; Moses become impatient and angry; David, impure and cruel; and Peter must lie and swear. It is not to earth that we must look for holiness in its transparent loveliness. It has never seen but one bright and untarnished exemplification of what holiness is; and so pure was it, and so reproachful to human wickedness, that men cried out, “Away with Him! away with Him! Crucify Him! crucify Him!” No; the spoiler has entered here. With all the power of the Mighty Healer, the poison rankles in every human bosom. The freest mind bears the marks of its native servitude; and though the chains are broken, they have left the deep furrows of their bondage.

Yet is there this precious truth in regard to the holiness of men on the earth. Not only is it, in so far forth as it is holiness, beautiful, and like the holiness of angels, and like its Divine Author; but its character is progressive, and its course is onward and upward to perfected excellence. From its first act of prostration before the mercy-seat, where it lifts its hands and heart to God; where it pours into His ear its voice of alternate penitence and praise, and where, in full view of the blood of the covenant, its faith takes hold of His righteousness and His promise; it rises, though it may be in unequal progress, higher and still more high, till at last its anticipations are realized in views that are to be never obscured, in affections of unmingled purity, and in the fulness of joy. Wondrous words are those uttered by the apostle when he says: “Beloved, now are we the sons of God; and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that when He shall appear, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.”

But how can man illustrate or impress this beautiful thought? If it requires holiness to discover the beauty of holiness, it is no marvel that it is not for lips of clay to speak of its perfected beauty. Reason and judgment have here no labored work to perform; for God hath revealed it all by His Spirit. Imagination here wings its way in silence, and its pinions droop. The impoverished heart, and even its sweetest, richest experiences, scarcely tread the hither verge of those fields of light. It is arrested, and moved to tears, and it may be to precious hopes; and when it grasps the mighty reality, it is by a vigorous faith. Oh! how sin and the world separate the heart from God and heaven. Yet is the assurance a delightful one, that it will not always be thus; and that the little holiness that exists in the present world is an earnest of the holiness that will be. Beautiful for contemplation is it, even imbedded as it is with the gross materials of earth; nay, the lowest and most imperfect degree of it possesses excellency with which no other created thing can be compared. And how beautiful when detached from the mire and rubbish of earth, and severed from all this sublunary alloy, it shines and sparkles in its own native firmament! “Behold,” says Bildad to Job, “behold even to the moon and it shineth not; and the stars are not pure in His sight; how much less is man that is a worm, and the son of man that is a worm!” Yet glorious, beyond thought, is the destiny of this abject worm. We look upon it, and then look up to the moon and stars. Resplendent as they are, man that is a worm will be more resplendent. Those lights of heaven are not pure in His sight; but man will be more pure. Brilliant as is yonder firmament, and decked with beauty as it is, scenes of brilliancy there are far surpassing these. Matter is a perishing thing. It is the mind that lives. Stars, and suns, and systems shall be rolled together as a scroll, and pass away. It is holiness that lives, gilding heaven with its beauty. Denude that pure world of its purity, and it is no longer heaven. There is nothing for which it is to be so much desired, nothing for which its glorious Architect so much values it, as its holiness. Its wall is holiness, its gates of pearl and its streets of gold are holiness. Its city is holiness, “as it were transparent glass.” There “shall in no wise enter into it anything that defileth.” It has adornments from earth; but they consist of “the nations of the saved” which walk in the light of it, and of “the glory and honor of the nations” which they bring into it. “It has no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it; for the Lord doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.” H. B. Smith.