ne simple emotion thrills the
chords of his harp. No doubts, or griefs, or remorse throw their shadows
upon him. He is conscious of dependence, but he is above want and fear.
He does not ask, he has--he possesses God, and is at rest in Him. He is
satisfied with that fruition which blesseth all who hunger for God, and
is the highest form of communion with Him. As the present has no
longings, the future has no terrors. All the horizon is clear, all the
winds are still, the ocean at rest, "and birds of peace sit brooding on
the charmed wave." If there be foes, God holds them back. If there lie
far off among the hills any valley of darkness, its black portals cast
no gloom over him, and will not when he enters. God is his Shepherd,
and, by another image, God is his Host. The life which in one aspect, by
reason of its continual change, and occupation with outward things, may
be compared to the journeyings of a flock, is in another aspect, by
reason of its inward union with the stability of God, like sitting ever
at the table which His hand has spread as for a royal banquet, where the
oil of gladness glistens on every head, and the full cup of Divine
pleasure is in every hand. For all the outward and pilgrimage aspect,
the psalmist knows that only Goodness and Mercy--these two white-robed
messengers of God--will follow his steps, however long may be the term
of the days of his yet young life; for all the inward, he is sure that,
in calm, unbroken fellowship, he will dwell in the house of God, and
that when the twin angels who fed and guided him all his young life long
have finished their charge, and the days of his journeyings are ended,
there stretches beyond a still closer union with his heavenly Friend,
which will be perfected in His true house "for ever." We look in vain
for another example, even in David's psalms, of such perfect, restful
trust in God. These clear notes are perhaps the purest utterance ever
given of "the peace of God which passeth all understanding."

Such were the thoughts and hopes of the lad who kept his father's sheep
at Bethlehem. He lived a life of lofty thoughts and lowly duties. He
heard the voice of God amidst the silence of the hills, and the earliest
notes of his harp echoed the deep tones. He learned courage as well as
tenderness from his daily tasks, and patience from the contrast between
them and the high vocation which Samuel's mysterious anointing had
opened before him. If we remember how