April 13

Put thou my tears into thy bottle. - Psalms 56:8.

SOME have supposed here a reference which I think is not well founded. It is well known that the Romans had little vessels called lachrymals, which were filled (as the word signifies) with tears, and commonly buried with the friend whose death drew them forth, as it was supposed it would add to his comfort to know that he was not forgotten or disregarded by those who were left behind him. Some of these are to be seen in the cabinets of the curious now. There are several of them in the British Museum. When the grave of Marcus Tullius Cicero was dug up in the year 1544, there were found in it two glass urns, the larger filled with a kind of earth, and the lesser with a fluid: one was supposed to have contained his ashes, and the other these tokens of friendship.

The image, indeed, is a very tender one. See the mother bending over the breathless body of her cherub boy and endeavouring to secure in her little urn the tears which are gushing from her streaming eyes. See the widow weeping by the side of the corpse of the guide of her youth,-her beloved,-leaning on whom she was going out of the wilderness; but now thrown back to walk alone the rest of the way, and endeavouring to secure those precious drops to preserve as a pledge, or rather to inter with the beloved remains. But we do not know that such a custom ever obtained among the Jews, and especially at this very early period; nor is it necessary to have such an allusion. Nature is the best expositor of Scripture. If we could but throw off from us the loads of difficulties which learned men have oppressed it with, and could but bring common sense, and explain it by a reference to our own feelings, it would be more easy to understand it.

The thing here is simple enough; the meaning is, Let my sorrows-the very expression of my sorrows-be dear to thee; and, as a precious fluid is valued and preserved, “put thou my tears into thy bottle;” or, by a change of metaphor, says he, “Look upon mine afflictions and my pain, and forgive all my sins;” “remember me with the favour which thou bearest unto thy people,” and “say unto my soul, I am thy salvation.” How soothing and encouraging is the presence and attention of a friend in distress, standing by ready to comfort, ready to wipe off with a soft hand the falling tear. Many have been there; many have said to those around, “Pity me, pity me, O ye my friends, for the hand of God hath touched me.”

Some are perhaps ready to say, “Well, I have shed tears enough, God knows!” Nay, but he does not know it! you have not shed enough, or you would not be shedding them now. “He does not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men;” and not one of those tears shall be shed in vain, and not one of them is forgotten before God.