upport! How many a time, in the hour of
pain, has it brought sustaining faith and sung its song of eternal bliss
in the valley of the shadow of death! It has charmed more griefs to rest
than all the philosophies of the world. And I am persuaded that this
little Psalm-bird will continue to sing its song of comfort and cheer to
your children, to my children, and to our children's children, and will
not cease its psalmody of love until the last weary pilgrim has placed
his last climbing footstep upon the threshold of the Father's house to
go out no more. Then, I think, this little bird will fold its golden
pinions and fall back on the bosom of God, from whence it came.

It has been well said that this Psalm is the most perfect picture of
happiness that ever was or ever can be drawn to represent that state of
mind for which all alike sigh, and the want of which makes life a
failure to most. It represents that heaven which is everywhere, if we
could but interpret it, and yet almost nowhere because not many of us
do.

=_Unusual Application_=

How familiar this Psalm is the world over! Go where you will; inquire in
every nation, tongue and tribe under heaven where the Bible is known,
you will find this Psalm among the first scriptures learned and lisped
by the little child at its mother's knee, and the last bit of inspired
writ uttered in dying breath by the saintly patriarch.

This Psalm is so universal, says one, because it is so individual; it is
so individual because it is so universal. As we read it, we are aware
not only of the fact that we are listening to the experience of an Old
Testament saint, but also that a voice comes speaking to us through the
long centuries past--speaking to us in our own language, recounting our
own experience, breathing out our own hopes.

The Davidic authorship of this Psalm has been questioned. We believe
firmly that David is the writer; and yet a man feels as he reads the
Psalm that it is so personal, so true to his own individual experience,
that he could fain claim to have written it himself. It might seem as
though the promises and precious things set forth in this Psalm lie
beyond our reach; we have nothing to draw with, and the well is deep,
but "one of like passions with ourselves has passed that way before and
has left a cup to be let down, with His name and story written on the
rim, and we may let that cup down into the well and draw a draught of
the deep, refreshing water."