TITLE. To the Chief Musician, even to
Jeduthun. Jeduthun's name, which signifies praising or
celebrating, was a most appropriate one for a leader in sacred
psalmody. He was one of those ordained by the King's order
"for song in the house of the Lord with cymbals,
psalteries, and harps" 1Ch 15:6, and his children after him
appear to have remained in the same hallowed service, even so
late as the days of Nehemiah. To have a name and a place in Zion
is no small honour, and to hold this place by a long entail of
grace is an unspeakable blessing. O that our household may never
lack a man to stand before the Lord God of Israel to do him
service. David left this somewhat sorrowful ode in Jeduthun's
hands because he thought him most fit to set it to music, or
because he would distribute the sacred honour of song among all
the musicians who in their turn presided in the choir. A Psalm
of David. Such as his chequered life would be sure to produce;
fit effusions for a man so tempted, so strong in his passions,
and yet so firm in faith.
DIVISION. The psalmist, bowed down
with sickness and sorrow, is burdened with unbelieving thoughts,
which he resolves to stifle, lest any evil should come from
their expression, Ps 39:1-2. But silence creates an
insupportable grief, which at last demands utterance, and
obtains it in the prayer of Ps 39:3-6, which is almost a
complaint and a sigh for death, or at best a very desponding
picture of human life. From Ps 39:7-13 the tone is more
submissive, and the recognition of the divine hand more
distinct; the cloud has evidently passed, and the mourner's
heart is relieved.
EXPOSITION
Verse 1. I said. I steadily resolved and
registered a determination. In his great perplexity his greatest
fear was lest he should sin; and, therefore, he cast about for
the most likely method for avoiding it, and he determined to be
silent. It is right excellent when a man can strengthen himself
in a good course by the remembrance of a well and wisely formed
resolve. "What I have written I have written, "or what
I have spoken I will perform, may prove a good strengthener to a
man in a fixed course of right. I will take heed to my ways.
To avoid sin one had need be very circumspect, and keep one's
actions as with a guard or garrison. Unguarded ways are
generally unholy ones. Heedless is another word for graceless.
In times of sickness or other trouble we must watch against the
sins peculiar to such trials, especially against murmuring and
repining. That I sin not with my tongue. Tongue sins are
great sins; like sparks of fire ill words spread, and do great
damage. If believers utter hard words of God in times of
depression, the ungodly will take them up and use them as a
justification for their sinful courses. If a man's own children
rail at him, no wonder if his enemies' mouths are full of abuse.
Our tongue always wants watching, for it is restive as an ill
broken horse; but especially must we hold it in when the sharp
cuts of the Lord's rod excite it to rebel. I will keep my
mouth with a bridle, or more accurately, with a muzzle. The
original does not so much mean a bridle to check the tongue as a
muzzle to stop it altogether. David was not quite so wise as our
translation would make him; if he had resolved to be very
guarded in his speech, it would have been altogether
commendable; but when he went so far as to condemn himself to
entire silence, "even from good, "there must have been
at least a little sullenness in his soul. In trying to avoid one
fault, he fell into another. To use the tongue against God is a
sin of commission, but not to use it at all involves an evident
sin of omission. Commendable virtues may be followed so eagerly
that we may fall into vices; to avoid Scylla we run into
Charybdis. While the wicked is before me. This qualifies
the silence, and almost screens it from criticism, for bad men
are so sure to misuse even our holiest speech, that it is as
well not to cast any of our pearls before such swine; but what
if the psalmist meant, "I was silent while I had the
prosperity of the wicked in my thoughts, "then we see the
discontent and questioning of his mind, and the muzzled mouth
indicates much that is not to be commended. Yet, if we blame we
must also praise, for the highest wisdom suggests that when good
men are bewildered with sceptical thoughts, they should not
hasten to repeat them, but should fight out their inward battle
upon its own battlefield. The firmest believers are exercised
with unbelief, and it would be doing the devil's work with a
vengeance if they were to publish abroad all their questionings
and suspicions. If I have the fever myself, there is no reason
why I should communicate it to my neighbours. If any on board
the vessel of my soul are diseased, I will put my heart in
quarantine, and allow none to go on shore in the boat of speech
till I have a clean bill of health.
Verse 2. I was dumb with silence. He was as
strictly speechless as if he had been tongueless—not a word
escaped him. He was as silent as the dumb. I held my peace,
even from good. Neither bad nor good escaped his lips.
Perhaps he feared that if he began to talk at all, he would be
sure to speak amiss, and, therefore, he totally abstained. It
was an easy, safe, and effectual way of avoiding sin, if it did
not involve a neglect of the duty which he owed to God to speak
well of his name. Our divine Lord was silent before the wicked,
but not altogether so, for before Pontius Pilate he witnessed a
good confession, and asserted his kingdom. A sound course of
action may be pushed to the extreme, and become a fault. And
my sorrow was stirred. Inward grief was made to work and
ferment by want of vent. The pent up floods are swollen and
agitated. Utterance is the natural outlet for the heart's
anguish, and silence is, therefore, both an aggravation of the
evil and a barrier against its cure. In such a case the resolve
to hold one's peace needs powerful backing, and even this is
most likely to give way when grief rushes upon the soul. Before
a flood gathering in force and foaming for outlet the strongest
banks are likely to be swept away. Nature may do her best to
silence the expression of discontent, but unless grace comes to
her rescue, she will be sure to succumb.
Verse 3. My heart was hot within me. The
friction of inward thoughts produced an intense mental heat. The
door of his heart was shut, and with the fire of sorrow burning
within, the chamber of his soul soon grew unbearable with heat.
Silence is an awful thing for a sufferer, it is the surest
method to produce madness. Mourner, tell your sorrow; do it
first and most fully to God, but even to pour it out before some
wise and godly friend is far from being wasted breath. While
I was musing the fire burned. As he thought upon the ease of
the wicked and his own daily affliction, he could not unravel
the mystery of providence, and therefore he became greatly
agitated. While his heart was musing it was fusing, for the
subject was confusing. It became harder every moment to be
quiet; his volcanic soul was tossed with an inward ocean of
fire, and heaved to and fro with a mental earthquake; and
eruption was imminent, the burning lava must pour forth in a
fiery stream. Then spake I with my tongue. The original
is grandly laconic. I spake. The muzzled tongue burst all
its bonds. The gag was hurled away. Misery, like murder, will
out. You can silence praise, but anguish is clamorous. Resolve
or no resolve, heed or no heed, sin or no sin, the impetuous
torrent forced for itself a channel and swept away every
restraint.
Verse 4. Lord. It is well that the vent of his
soul was toward God and not towards man. Oh! if my swelling
heart must speak, Lord let it speak with thee; even if there be
too much of natural heat in what I say, thou wilt be more
patient with me than man, and upon thy purity it can cast no
stain; whereas if I speak to my fellows, they may harshly rebuke
me or else learn evil from my petulance. Make me to know mine
end. Did he mean the same as Elias in his agony, "Let
me die, I am no better than my father"? Perhaps so. At any
rate, he rashly and petulantly desired to know the end of his
wretched life, that he might begin to reckon the days till death
should put a finish to his woe. Impatience would pry between the
folded leaves. As if there were no other comfort to be had,
unbelief would fain hide itself in the grave and sleep itself
into oblivion. David was neither the first nor the last who have
spoken unadvisedly in prayer. Yet, there is a better meaning:
the psalmist would know more of the shortness of life, that he
might better bear its transient ills, and herein we may safely
kneel with him, uttering the same petition. That there is no end
to its misery is the hell of hell; that there is an end to
life's sorrow is the hope of all who have a hope beyond the
grave. God is the best teacher of the divine philosophy which
looks for an expected end. They who see death through the Lord's
glass, see a fair sight, which makes them forget the evil of
life in foreseeing the end of life. And the measure of my
days. David would fain be assured that his days would be
soon over and his trials with them; he would be taught anew that
life is measured out to us by wisdom, and is not a matter of
chance. As the trader measures his cloth by inches, and ells,
and yards, so with scrupulous accuracy is life measured out to
man. That I may know how frail I am, or when I shall
cease to be. Alas! poor human nature, dear as life is, man
quarrels with God at such a rate that he would sooner cease to
be than bear the Lord's appointment. Such pettishness in a
saint! Let us wait till we are in a like position, and we shall
do no better. The ship on the stocks wonders that the barque
springs a leak, but when it has tried the high seas, it marvels
that its timbers hold together in such storms. David's case is
not recorded for our imitation, but for our learning.
Verse 5. Behold, thou hast made my days as an
handbreadth. Upon consideration, the psalmist finds little
room to bewail the length of life, but rather to bemoan its
shortness. What changeful creatures we are! One moment we cry to
be rid of existence, and the next instant beg to have it
prolonged! A handbreadth is one of the shortest natural
measures, being the breadth of four fingers; such is the brevity
of life, by divine appointment; God hath made it so, fixing the
period in wisdom. The behold calls us to attention; to
some the thoughts of life's hastiness will bring the most acute
pain, to others the most solemn earnestness. How well should
those live who are to live so little! Is my earthly pilgrimage
so brief? then let me watch every step of it, that in the little
of time there may be much of grace. And mine age is as
nothing before thee. So short as not to amount to an entity.
Think of eternity, and an angel is as a newborn babe, the world
a fresh blown bubble, the sun a spark just fallen from the fire,
and man a nullity. Before the Eternal, all the age of frail man
is less than one ticking of a clock. Verily, every man at his
best state is altogether vanity. This is the surest truth,
that nothing about man is either sure or true. Take man at his
best, he is but a man, and a man is a mere breath, unsubstantial
as the wind. Man is settled, as the margin has it, and by
divine decree it is settled that he shall not be settled. He is
constant only in inconstancy. His vanity is his only verity; his
best, of which he is vain, is but vain; and this is verily true
of every man, that everything about him is every way fleeting.
This is sad news for those whose treasures are beneath the moon;
those whose glorying is in themselves may well hang the flag
half mast; but those whose best estate is settled upon them in
Christ Jesus in the land of unfading flowers, may rejoice that
it is no vain thing in which they trust.
Verse 6. Surely every man walketh in a vain shew.
Life is but a passing pageant. This alone is sure, that nothing
is sure. All around us shadows mock us; we walk among them, and
too many live for them as if the mocking images were
substantial; acting their borrowed parts with zeal fit only to
be spent on realities, and lost upon the phantoms of this
passing scene. Worldly men walk like travellers in a mirage,
deluded, duped, deceived, soon to be filled with disappointment
and despair. Surely they are disquieted in vain. Men
fret, and fume, and worry, and all for mere nothing. They are
shadows pursuing shadows, while death pursues them. He who toils
and contrives, and wearies himself for gold, for fame, for rank,
even if he wins his desire, finds at the end of his labour lost;
for like the treasure of the miser's dream, it all vanishes when
the man awakes in the world of reality. Read well this text, and
then listen to the clamour of the market, the hum of the
exchange, the din of the city streets, and remember that all
this noise (for so the word means), this breach of quiet,
is made about unsubstantial, fleeting vanities. Broken rest,
anxious fear, over worked brain, failing mind, lunacy, these are
the steps in the process of disquieting with many, and all to be
rich, or, in other words, to load one's self with the thick
clay; clay, too, which a man must leave so soon. He heapeth
up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them. He misses
often the result of his ventures, for there are many slips
between the cup and the lips. His wheat is sheaved, but an
interloping robber bears it away—as often happens with the
poor Eastern husbandman; or, the wheat is even stored, but the
invader feasts thereon. Many work for others all unknown to
them. Especially does this verse refer to those all gathering
muckrakes, who in due time are succeeded by all scattering
forks, which scatter riches as profusely as their sires gathered
them parsimoniously. We know not our heirs, for our children
die, and strangers fill the old ancestral halls; estates change
hands, and entail, though riveted with a thousand bonds, yields
to the corroding power of time. Men rise up early and sit up
late to build a house, and then the stranger tramps along its
passages, laughs in its chambers, and forgetful of its first
builder, calls it all his own. Here is one of the evils under
the sun for which no remedy can be prescribed.
Verse 7. And now, Lord, what wait I for? What
is there in these phantoms to enchant me? Why should I linger
where the prospect is so uninviting, and the present so trying?
It were worse than vanity to linger in the abodes of sorrow to
gain a heritage of emptiness. The psalmist, therefore, turns to
his God, in disgust of all things else; he has thought on the
world and all things in it, and is relieved by knowing that such
vain things are all passing away; he has cut all cords which
bound him to earth, and is ready to sound "Boot and saddle,
up and away." My hope is in thee. The Lord is self
existent and true, and therefore worthy of the confidence of
men; he will live when all the creatures die, and his fulness
will abide when all second causes are exhausted; to him,
therefore, let us direct our expectation, and on him let us rest
our confidence. Away from sand to rock let all wise builders
turn themselves, for if not today, yet surely ere long, a storm
will rise before which nothing will be able to stand but that
which has the lasting element of faith in God to cement it.
David had but one hope, and that hope entered within the veil,
hence he brought his vessel to safe anchorage, and after a
little drifting all was peace.
Verse 8. Deliver me from all my transgressions.
How fair a sign it is when the psalmist no longer harps upon his
sorrows, but begs freedom from his sins! What is sorrow when
compared with sin! Let but the poison of sin be gone from the
cup, and we need not fear its gall, for the bitter will act
medicinally. None can deliver a man from his transgression but
the blessed One who is called Jesus, because he saves his people
from their sins; and when he once works this great deliverance
for a man from the cause, the consequences are sure to disappear
too. The thorough cleansing desired is well worthy of note: to
be saved from some transgressions would be of small benefit;
total and perfect deliverance is needed. Make me not the
reproach of the foolish. The wicked are the foolish here
meant: such are always on the watch for the faults of saints,
and at once make them the theme of ridicule. It is a wretched
thing for a man to be suffered to make himself the butt of
unholy scorn by apostasy from the right way. Alas, how many have
thus exposed themselves to well deserved reproach! Sin and shame
go together, and from both David would fain be preserved.
Verse 9. I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because
thou didst it. This had been far clearer if it had been
rendered, "I am silenced, I will not open my mouth."
Here we have a nobler silence, purged of all sullenness, and
sweetened with submission. Nature failed to muzzle the mouth,
but grace achieved the work in the worthiest manner. How like in
appearance may two very different things appear! silence is ever
silence, but it may be sinful in one case and saintly in
another. What a reason for hushing every murmuring thought is
the reflection, "because thou didst it."! It is his
right to do as he wills, and he always wills to do that which is
wisest and kindest; why should I then arraign his dealings? Nay,
if it be indeed the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good.
Verse 10. Remove thy stroke away from me.
Silence from all repining did not prevent the voice of prayer,
which must never cease. In all probability the Lord would grant
the psalmist's petition, for he usually removes affliction when
we are resigned to it; if we kiss the rod, our Father always
burns it. When we are still, the rod is soon still. It is quite
consistent with resignation to pray for the removal of a trial.
David was fully acquiescent in the divine will, and yet found it
in his heart to pray for deliverance; indeed, it was while he
was rebellious that he was prayerless about his trial, and only
when he became submissive did he plead for mercy. I am
consumed by the blow of thine hand. Good pleas may be found
in our weakness and distress. It is well to show our Father the
bruises which his scourge has made, for peradventure his
fatherly pity will bind his hands, and move him to comfort us in
his bosom. It is not to consume us, but to consume our sins,
that the Lord aims at in his chastisements.
Verse 11. When thou with rebukes dost correct man
for iniquity. God does not trifle with his rod; he uses it
because of sin, and with a view to whip us from it; hence he
means his strokes to be felt, and felt they are. Thou makest
his beauty to consume away like a moth. As the moth frets
the substance of the fabric, mars all its beauty, and leaves it
worn out and worthless, so do the chastisements of God discover
to us our folly, weakness, and nothingness, and make us feel
ourselves to be as worn out vestures, worthless and useless.
Beauty must be a poor thing when a moth can consume it and a
rebuke can mar it. All our desires and delights are wretched
moth eaten things when the Lord visits us in his anger. Surely
every man is vanity. He is as Trapp wittily says "a
curious picture of nothing." He is unsubstantial as his own
breath, a vapour which appeareth for a little while, and then
vanisheth away. Selah. Well may this truth bring us to a
pause, like the dead body of Amasa, which, lying in the way,
stopped the hosts of Joab.
Verse 12. Hear my prayer, O Lord. Drown not my
pleadings with the sound of thy strokes. Thou hast heard the
clamour of my sins, Lord; hear the laments of my prayers. And
give ear unto my cry. Here is an advance in intensity: a cry
is more vehement, pathetic, and impassioned, than a prayer. The
main thing was to have the Lord's ear and heart. Hold not thy
peace at my tears. This is a yet higher degree of
importunate pleading. Who can withstand tears, which are the
irresistible weapons of weakness? How often women, children,
beggars, and sinners, have betaken themselves to tears as their
last resort, and therewith have won the desire of their
hearts!—"This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul,
"falls not in vain. Tears speak more eloquently than ten
thousand tongues; they act as keys upon the wards of tender
hearts, and mercy denies them nothing, if through them the
weeper looks to richer drops, even to the blood of Jesus. When
our sorrows pull up the sluices of our eyes, God will ere long
interpose and turn our mourning into joy. Long may he be quiet
as though he regarded not, but the hour of deliverance will
come, and come like the morning when the dewdrops are plentiful.
For I am a stranger with thee. Not to thee, but with
thee. Like thee, my Lord, a stranger among the sons of men, an
alien from my mother's children. God made the world, sustains
it, and owns it, and yet men treat him as though he were a
foreign intruder; and as they treat the Master, so do they deal
with the servants. "It is no surprising thing that we
should be unknown." These words may also mean, "I
share the hospitality of God, "like a stranger entertained
by a generous host. Israel was bidden to deal tenderly with the
stranger, and the God of Israel has in much compassion treated
us poor aliens with unbounded liberality. And a sojourner, as
all my fathers were. They knew that this was not their rest;
they passed through life in pilgrim guise, they used the world
as travellers use an inn, and even so do I. Why should we dream
of rest on earth when our fathers' sepulchres are before our
eyes? If they had been immortal, their sons would have had an
abiding city this side the tomb; but as the sires were mortal,
so must their offspring pass away. All of our lineage, without
exception, were passing pilgrims, and such are we. David uses
the fleeting nature of our life as an argument for the Lord's
mercy, and it is such a one as God will regard. We show pity to
poor pilgrims, and so will the Lord.
EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUAINT SAYINGS
TITLE.—"To Jeduthun." A Levite of
the family of Merari, and one of the great masters of the temple
music. The department superintended by Jeduthun and his
colleagues in the temple service was that of the
"instruments of the song of God, "by which are
intended the nebel or psaltery, the kinnor or harp, and the
metsiltaim or cymbals. In 2Ch 35:15, Jeduthun is called
"the king's seer, " which would seem to indicate that
he was the medium of divine guidance to David. The name occurs
in the title of Psalms 39, 62, 77; where some have thought that
it indicates some special kind of composition, and others some
instrument of music, but without reason. William Lindsay
Alexander, in Kitto's Cyclopaedia.
Whole Psalm. The most beautiful of all the elegies in
the psalter. H. Ewald.
Verse 1. I said. It was to himself that he said
it; and it is impossible for any other to prove a good or a wise
man, without much of this kind of speech to himself. It is one
of the most excellent and distinguishing faculties of a
reasonable creature; much beyond vocal speech, for in that, some
birds may imitate us; but neither bird nor beast has anything of
this kind of language, of reflecting or discoursing with itself.
It is a wonderful brutality in the greatest part of men, who are
so little conversant in this kind of speech, being framed and
disposed for it, and which is not only of itself excellent, but
of continual use and advantage; but it is a common evil among
men to go abroad, and out of themselves, which is a madness, and
a true distraction. It is true, a man hath need of a well set
mind, when he speaks to himself; for otherwise, he may be worse
company to himself than if he were with others. But he ought to
endeavour to have a better with him, to call in God to his heart
to dwell with him. If thus we did, we should find how sweet this
were to speak to ourselves, by now and then intermixing our
speech with discourses unto God. For want of this, the most part
not only lose their time in vanity, in their converse abroad
with others, but do carry in heaps of that vanity to the stock
which is in their own hearts, and do converse with them in
secret, which is the greatest and deepest folly in the world. Robert
Leighton.
Verse 1. No lesson so hard to be learned of us here,
as the wise and discreet government of the tongue. David
promised a singular care of this, I said, I will take heed,
etc. Socrates reports of one Pambo, an honest, well meaning man,
who came to his friend, desiring him to teach him one of David's
Psalms, he read to him this verse. He answered: this one verse
is enough, if I learn it well. Nineteen years after, he said, in
all that time, he had hardly learned that one verse. Samuel
Page.
Verse 1. That I sin not with my tongue. Man's
mouth, though it be but a little hole, will hold a world full of
sin. For there is not any sin forbidden in the law or gospel
which is not spoken by the tongue, as well as thought in the
heart, or done in the life. Is it not then almost as difficult
to rule the tongue as to rule the world? Edward Reyner.
Verse 1. I will keep a muzzle on my mouth, whilst a
wicked man is before me. New Translation, by Charles Carter,
Verse 1. While the wicked is before me. It is a
vexation to be tied to hear so much impertinent babbling in the
world, but profitable to discern and abhor it. A wonder that men
can cast out so much wind, and the more they have to utter, the
more they are prodigal of their own breath and of the patience
of others, and careless of their own reckoning. If they believe
to give account of every idle word, they would be more sparing
of foolish speaking. I like either to be silent, or to speak
that that may edify. At tables or meetings, I cannot stop the
mouth of others, yet may I close mine own ears, and by a
heavenly soul speech with God divert my mind from fruitless
talking. Though I be among them I shall as little partake their
prattling as they do my meditation. William Struther.
Verse 2. I was dumb with silence, etc. That is,
for a while I did what I resolved; I was so long wholly silent,
that I seemed in a manner to be dumb, and not able to speak. I
held my peace, even from good; that is, I forbore to speak
what I might well and lawfully enough have spoken, as from
alleging anything that I might have said in mine own defence,
from making my complaint to God, and desiring justice at his
hands, and such like; to wit, lest by degrees I should have been
brought to utter anything that was evil, and whilst I intended
only to speak that which was good, some unseemly word might
suddenly slip from me; or lest mine enemies should misconstrue
anything I spake. Arthur Jackson.
Verse 2. I was dumb with silence. We shall
enquire what kind of dumbness or silence this of
the psalmist was, which he is commended for, and which would so
well beseem us when we smart under the rod of God, and then the
doctrine will be, in a great measure, evident by its own light.
We shall proceed to our inquiry, 1. Negatively, to prevent
mistakes. 2. Positively, and show you what it doth import.
First, negatively. 1. This dumbness doth not import any such
thing, as if the prophet had been brought to that pass that he
had nothing to say to God by way of prayer and supplication. He
was not so dumb, but that he could pray and cry too. Ps
39:8,10-11. 2. Nor was he so dumb, as that he could not frame to
the confession and bewailing of his sins. 3. Nor was it a
dumbness of stupidity and senselessness. It doth not imply any
such thing, as if by degrees he grew to that pass, he cared not
for, or made no matter of his affliction, but set, as the
proverb is, an hard heart against his hard hap. No, he did make
his moan to God, and as he smarted, so he did lament under the
sense of his afflicting hand. 4. Neither was he so dumb as not
to answer God's voice in the rod that was upon him. 5. Much less
was he dumb, and kept silence in any such sort as they did of
whom Amos speaks Am 6:10, that in their misery they took up a
resolution to mention the name of God no more, in whom
they had gloried formerly.
Secondly, affirmatively. 1. He was dumb so as neither to
complain of, nor quarrel with God's providence, nor to entertain
any hard thoughts against him. Complain to God he did;
but against him he durst not. 2. He neither did nor durst
quarrel, or fall out with the ways of holiness for all his
sufferings, a thing we are naturally prone unto. 3. He was dumb,
so as not to defend himself, or justify his own ways before God,
as if they were righteous, and he had not deserved what he
suffered. 4. He was dumb, so as to hearken to the voice of the
rod. "I will (saith he in another place) hear what God the
Lord will speak." Ps 85:8. Now a man cannot listen to
another while he will have all the talk and discourse to
himself. 5. Lastly, the prophet was dumb, that is, he did
acquiesce, and rest satisfied with God's dispensation; and that
not only as good, but as best. Condensed from a Funeral
Sermon by Thomas Burroughes, B.D., entitled, "A Sovereign
Remedy for all kinds of Grief," 1657.
Verse 2. I held my peace. A Christian being
asked what fruit he had by Christ: Is not this fruit, said he,
not to be moved at your reproaches? In cases of this nature, we
must refer all to God; si tu tacueris, Deus loquitur; if
thou hold thy peace, God speaks for thee; and if God speaks for
us, it is better than we can speak for yourselves. David saith, Obmutui,
quia tu fecisti. I held my peace, for it was thy doing.
Christopher Sutton, B.D.,—1629, in Disce Vicere.
Verses 2-9. An invalid who had been ordered a couple
of pills, took them very absurdly, for, in place of swallowing
them at once, he rolled them about in his mouth, ground them to
pieces, and so tasted their full bitterness. Gotthold was
present, and thus mused. The insults and calumnies of a
slanderer and adversary are bitter pills, and all do not
understand the art of swallowing without chewing them. To the
Christian, however, they are wholesome in many ways. They remind
him of his guilt, they try his meekness and patience, they show
him what he needs to guard against, and at last they redound to
his honour and glory in the sight of him for whose sake they
were endured. In respect of the pills of slander, however, as
well as the others, it is advisable not to roll them about
continually in our minds, or judge of them according to the
flesh, and the world's opinion. This will only increase their
bitterness, spread the savour of it to the tongue, and fill the
heart with proportional enmity. The true way is to swallow,
keep silence, and forget. We must inwardly devour our grief,
and say, I will be dumb, and not open my mouth, because thou
didst it. The best antidotes to the bitterness of slander,
are the sweet promises and consolations of Scripture, of which
not the least is this, "Blessed are ye, when men shall
revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil
against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding
glad: for great is your reward in heaven." Mt 5:11-12.
Alas, my God! how hard it is to swallow the pills of obloquy, to
bless them that curse me, to do good to them that hate me, and
to pray for them that despitefully use me! But, Lord, as thou
wilt have it so, give it as thou wilt have it, for it is a
matter in which, without thy grace, I can do nothing! Christian
Scriver.
Verse 9. I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because
thou didst it. See David's carriage here; it was a patience
not constrained, but from satisfaction of spirit: he saw love in
his affliction, and that sweetened his soul. Joseph Symonds.
Verse 9. I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because
thou didst it. God is training up his children here. This is
the true character of his dealings with them. The education of
his saints is the object he has in view. It is training for the
kingdom; it is education for eternity...It is the discipline of
love. Every step of it is kindness. There is no wrath nor
vengeance in any part of the process. The discipline of the
school may be harsh and stern; but that of the family is love.
We are sure of this; and the consolation which it affords is
unutterable. Love will not wrong us. There will be no needless
suffering. Were this but kept in mind there would be fewer hard
thoughts of God amongst men, even when his strokes are most
severe. I know not a better illustration of what the feelings of
a saint should be, in the hour of bitterness, than the case of
Richard Cameron's father. The aged saint was in prison "for
the Word of God, and for the testimony of Jesus Christ."
The bleeding head of his martyred son was brought to him by his
unfeeling persecutors, and he was asked derisively if he knew
it. "I know it, I know it, "—said the father, as he
kissed the mangled forehead of his fair haired son—"it is
my son's, my own dear son's! It is the Lord! good is the will of
the Lord, who cannot wrong me or mine, but who hath made
goodness and mercy to follow us all our days." Horatius
Bonar, in "The Night of Weeping, "1847.
Verse 9. Because thou didst it. This holy man
had a breach made both at his body and spirit at this time; he
was sick and sad; yet he remembers from whose hand the blow
came. Thou, Lord, didst it; thou, whom I love dearly, and so can
take it kindly; thou whom I have offended, and so take it
patiently; yea, thou, who mightest have cast me into a bed of
flames, instead of my bed of sickness, and therefore I accept
thy correction thankfully. Thus he catches at the blow without
retorting it back upon God by any quarrelling discontented
language. William Gurnall.
Verse 9. Because thou didst it. We digest not a
blow from our equals, but a blow from our king we can well
digest. If the King of kings lays his hand on our backs, let us,
beloved, lay our hands on our mouths. I am sure this stopped
David's mouth from venting fretful speeches. "I held my
tongue and said nothing." Why didst thou so, David? Because
thou, Lord, didst it; and God gives this testimony of such
an one; that he is a prudent man that keeps silence at an evil
time. Am 5:13. Nicholas Estwick, B.D., 1644.
Verse 9. Perkins, in his "Salve for a Sick
Man, "gives the "last words" of many holy
men, among others of Calvin:—"I held my tongue, because
thou, Lord, hast done it—I mourned as a dove—Lord, you
ground me to powder, but it suffices me because it is thy
hand."
Verse 9. I wondered once at providence, and called
white providence black and unjust, that I should be smothered in
a town where no soul will take Christ off my hand. But
providence hath another lustre (shining; appearance) with God
than with my bleared eyes. I proclaim myself a blind body, who
knoweth not black and white, in the unco (strange) course of
God's providence. Suppose that Christ should set hell where
heaven is, and devils up in glory beside the elect angels (which
yet cannot be), I would I had a heart to acquiesce in his way,
without further dispute. I see that infinite wisdom is the
mother of his judgments, and that his ways pass finding out. I
cannot learn, but I desire to learn, to bring my thoughts, will,
and lusts in under (close under) Christ's feet, that he may
trample upon them. But, alas! I am still upon Christ's wrong
side. Samuel Rutherford.
Verse 9. A little girl, in the providence of God, was
born deaf and dumb. She was received, and instructed, at an
institution established for these afflicted ones. A visitor was
one day requested to examine the children thus sadly laid aside
from childhood's common joys. Several questions were asked, and
quickly answered by means of a slate and pencil. At length the
gentleman wrote, Why were you born deaf and dumb? A look
of anguish clouded for the moment the expressive face of the
little girl; but it quickly passed, as she took her slate, and
wrote, "Even so, Father; for so it seemeth good in thy
sight." Mrs. Rogers, in "The Shepherd King."
Verse 10. Remove thy plague away from me: thy
plague and mine; thine by affliction, mine by passion; thine
because thou didst send it, mine because I endure it; thine
because it comes from thy justice, mine because it answers my
injustice; remit what I have done, and remove what thou hast
done. But whosoever laid it on, the Lord will take it off. Thomas
Adams.
Verse 10. Remove, etc. Having first prayed off
his sin, he would now pray off his pain, though it less troubled
him; and for ease he repairs to Jehovah that healeth, as
well as woundeth. Ho 6:1. John Trapp.
Verse 11. Thou makest his beauty to consume away
like a moth. The meaning may be, As the moth crumbles into
dust under the slightest pressure, or the gentlest touch, so man
dissolves with equal ease, and vanishes into darkness, under the
finger of the Almighty. Paxton's Illustrations of Scripture.
Verse 11. Thou makest his beauty to consume away
like a moth. Moths I must not omit naming. I once saw some
knives, the black bone hafts of which were said to have been
half consumed by them. I also saw the remains of a hair seated
sofa which had been devoured. It is no uncommon thing to find
dresses consumed in a single night. In Isa 51:6, "wax
old" probably refers to a garment that is moth eaten. So in
Ps 6:7 31:9, consumed means moth eaten; and again in Ps
39:11. John Gadsby.
Verse 11. Like a moth. The moths of the East
are very large and beautiful, but short lived. After a few
showers these splendid insects may be seen fluttering in every
breeze, but the dry weather, and their numerous enemies, soon
consign them to the common lot. Thus the beauty of man consumes
away like that of this gay rover, dressed in his robes of
purple, and scarlet, and green. John Kitto.
Verse 11. The body of man is as a "garment"
to the soul: in this garment sin hath lodged a "moth,
"which, by degrees, fretteth and weareth away, first, the
beauty, then the strength, and finally, the contexture of its
parts. Whoever has watched the progress of a consumption, or any
other lingering distemper, nay, the slow and silent devastations
of time alone, in the human frame, will need no farther
illustration of this just and affecting similitude; but will
discern at once the propriety of the reflection which follows
upon it. Surely every man is vanity. George Horne.
Verse 11. Surely every man is vanity. What is
greatness? Can we predicate it of man, independently of his
qualities as an immortal being? or of his actions, independently
of principles and motives? Then the glitter of nobility is not
superior to the plumage of the peacock; nor the valour of
Alexander to the fury of a tiger; nor the sensual delights of
Epicurus to those of any animal that roams the forest. Ebenezer
Porter, D.D., in Lectures on Homiletics, 1834.
Verse 12. Hear my prayer, O Lord, etc. Now, in
this prayer of David, we find three things, which are the chief
qualifications of all acceptable prayers. The first is humility.
He humbly confesses his sins, and his own weakness and
worthlessness. We are not to put on a stoical, flinty kind of
spirit under our affliction, that so we may seem to shun
womanish repinings and complaints, lest we run into the other
evil, of despising the hand of God, but we are to humble
our proud hearts, and break our unruly passions...The second
qualification of this prayer is, fervency and importunity,
which appears in the elegant gradation of the words, Hear my
prayer, my words; if not that, yet, Give ear to my cry,
which is louder; and if that prevail not, yet, Hold not thy
peace at my tears, which is the loudest of all; so David,
elsewhere, calls it the voice of weeping. ...The third
qualification is faith. "He who comes to God must
believe that he is, and is a rewarder of them that diligently
seek him." Heb 11:6. And, certainly, as he that comes to
God must believe this, so he that believes this, cannot but come
to God; and if he be not presently answered, "he that
believes makes no haste, "he resolves patiently to wait for
the Lord, and go to no other. Condensed from Robert Leighton.
Verse 12. Hold not thy peace at my tears. We
may, in all humility, plead our heart breakings and weepings in
sense of want of mercies which we crave, and our pantings and
faintings after the same. Thomas Cobbett.
Verse 12. For I am a stranger with thee, and a
sojourner, as all my fathers were. Both in thy judgment
expressed Le 25:23, and in their own opinion Heb 11:13. Upon
which account thou didst take a special care of them, and
therefore do so to me also. Matthew Poole.
Verse 12. I am a stranger with thee and a
sojourner. How settled soever their condition be, yet this
is the temper of the saints upon earth—to count themselves but
strangers. All men indeed are strangers and sojourners, but the
saints do best discern it, and most freely acknowledge it.
Wicked men have no firm dwelling upon earth, but that is against
their intentions; their inward thought and desire is that they
may abide for ever; they are strangers against their wills,
their abode is uncertain in the world, and they cannot help it.
And pray mark, there are two distinct words used in this case, strangers
and sojourners. A stranger is one that hath his abode in
a foreign country, that is not a native and a denizen of the
place, though he liveth there, and in opposition to the natives
he is called a stranger: as if a Frenchman should live in
England, he is a stranger. But a sojourner is one that
intends not to settle, but only passes through a place, and is
in motion travelling homeward. So the children of God in
relation to a country of their own in another place, namely,
heaven, they are denizens there, but strangers in the world; and
they are sojourners and pilgrims in regard of their motion and
journey towards their country. Thomas Manton.
Verse 12. A Stranger. 1. A stranger is one that
is absent from his country, and from his father's house: so are
we, heaven is our country, God is there, and Christ is there. 2.
A stranger in a foreign country is not known, nor valued
according to his birth and breeding: so the saints walk up and
down in the world like princes in disguise. 3. Strangers are
liable to inconveniences: so are godly men in the world.
Religion, saith Tertullian, is like a strange plant brought from
a foreign country, and doth not agree with the nature of the
soil, it thrives not in the world. 4. A stranger is patient,
standeth not for ill usage, and is contented with pilgrim's fare
and lodging. We are now abroad and must expect hardship. 5. A
stranger is wary, that he may not give offence, and incur the
hatred and displeasure of the natives. 6. A stranger is thankful
for the least favour; so we must be thankfully contented with
the things God hath bestowed upon us: anything in a strange
country is much. 7. A stranger, that hath a journey to go, would
pass over it as soon as he can, and so we, who have a journey to
heaven desire to be dissolved. 8. A stranger buyeth not such
things as he cannot carry with him; he doth not buy trees,
house, household stuff, but jewels and pearls, and such things
as are portable. Our greatest care should be to get the jewels
of the covenant, the graces of God's Spirit, those things that
will abide with us. 9. A stranger's heart is in his country; so
is a saint's. 10. A stranger is inquisitive after the way,
fearing lest he should go amiss, so is a Christian. 11. A
stranger provides for his return, as a merchant, that he may
return richly laden. So we must appear before God in Sion. What
manner of persons ought we to be? Let us return from our travel
well provided. Condensed from Thomas Manton.
Verse 13. O spare me, that I may recover strength,
before I go hence, and be no more. Man in his corrupt state
is like Nebuchadnezzar, he hath a beast's heart, that craves no
more than the satisfaction of his sensual appetite; but when
renewed by grace, then his understanding returns to him, by
which he is enabled in praying for temporals to elevate his
desires to a nobler end. Doth David pray that some farther time
may be added to his temporal life? It is not out of a fond love
for this world, but to prepare himself the better for another.
Is he comforted with hopes of a longer stay here? It is not this
world's carnal pleasures that kindle this joy in his holy
breast, but the advantage that thereby he shall have for
praising God in the land of the living...O spare me, that I
may recover strength. David was not yet recovered out of
that sin which had brought him exceeding low as you may
perceive, Ps 39:10-11. And the good man cannot think of dying
with any willingness till his heart be in a holier frame: and
for the peace of the gospel, serenity of conscience, and inward
joy; alas! all unholiness is to it as poison is to the spirits
which drink them up. William Gurnall.
Verse 13. O spare me, etc. Attachment to life,
the feeling cherished by the psalmist, when he thus appealed to
the Sovereign of the universe, varies in its character with the
occasions and the sentiments by which it is elicited and
confirmed. Take one view of it, and you pronounce it criminal;
take another, and you pronounce it innocent; take a
third, and you pronounce it laudable.
1. Life may inspire a criminal attachment, warranting
our censure. The most obvious and aggravated case is that in
which the attachment has its foundations in the opportunities
which life affords, of procuring "the wages of
unrighteousness, "and "the pleasures of sin."
2. Life may inspire an innocent attachment, awakening
our sympathy...Life is a scene in which we often descry a
verdant and luxuriant spot, teeming with health, and ease, and
harmony, and joy. We have beheld the husbands and the wives
whose interwoven regards have, from year to year, alleviated all
their afflictions, and heightened all their privileges. We have
beheld the parents and the children whose fellowship has yielded
them, through the shifting seasons, a daily feast. There are
indulgent masters, and faithful servants; some neighbourhoods
are undisturbed; some Christian societies are exquisitely
attractive; here and there we have intercourse with those
individuals in whom are seen the beauties of high character
irradiated by the beans of general prosperity. You would
pronounce no censure on a man thus happily connected, were he,
when beginning to languish, as one "going the way of all
the earth, to cry, "O spare me, that I may recover
strength, before I go hence, and be no more.
3. The last view which it has been proposed to take of human
life, shows that it may inspire a laudable attachment, at
once challenging our approbation, and urging us to bring our
minds under its influence. The language before us admits of
being illustrated as the prayer of a penitent, a saint,
and a philanthropist.
(a). Commend him who pleads for life as a penitent.
Was it recently that the Holy Spirit first wounded him with the
arrows of conviction? Perhaps, he doubts the source, the
quality, and the result, of his powerful feelings. He knows that
we may be solemnly impressed, without being converted. There are
many considerations which entitle to favourable opinion those
who, not having arrived at a view of their moral state, at once
evident and encouraging, wish earnestly to live till grace shall
have carried them from victory to victory, and enabled them
"to make" their "calling and election sure."
Even they may fall from their steadfastness; and these words,
"O spare me, that I may recover strength, "may proceed
from the lips of a backslider, once more blushing, trembling,
and petitioning to be restored.
(b). Commend him, in the next place, who pleads for life, as
a saint. ...The distinguishing office of pleading,
acting, and suffering, for the advancement of the divine honour
among the profane, the sensual, the formal, and the worldly is
delegated, exclusively, to "the saints which are upon the
earth." Yet, surely he whose attachment to life is strongly
enhanced by a commission which dooms him to the contradiction of
sinners, and defers "the fulness of joy, "a saint so
magnanimous and devoted, puts forth the expressions of a piety
which the very angels are compelled to revere.
(c). Commend him, finally, who pleads for life as a philanthropist.
I refer to the generous patron, a man intent on doing
good. I would also refer to a fond parent. I would now
refer to "a preacher of righteousness, ""a
good minister of Jesus Christ."
Outline of a Sermon entitled "Attachment to Life,
"preached by Joseph Hughes, M.A., as a Funeral Sermon
for Rev. John Owen, M.A., 1822.
Verse 13. May not the very elect and faithful
themselves fear the day of judgment, and be far from fetching
comfort at it? I answer, he may. First, at his first conversion
and soon after, before he have gotten a full persuasion of the
remission of his sins. And again, in some spiritual desertion,
when the Lord seems to leave a man to himself, as he did David
and others, he may fear to think of the same. And lastly, when
he hath fallen into some great sin after he is a strong man in
Christ, he may fear death and judgment, and be constrained to
pray with Job and David, O spare me, that I may recover
strength, before I go hence, and be no more. John Barlow's
Sermon, 1618.
HINTS TO THE VILLAGE PREACHER
Verses 1-2. I was dumb, etc.
1. There is a time to be silent. He had been enabled to do
this when reproached and unjustly accused by others. He did it
for good; others might attribute it to sullenness, or pride, or
timidity, or conscious guilt; but he did it for good. Breathe
upon a polished mirror and it will evaporate and leave it
brighter than before; endeavour to wipe it off, and the mark
will remain.
2. There is a time to meditate in silence. The greater the
silence without, often the greater commotion within. "His
heart was hot." The more he thought, the warmer he
grew. The fire of pity and compassion, the fire of love, the
fire of holy zeal burned within him.
3. There is a time to speak. "Then spake I."
The time to speak is when the truth is clear and strong in the
mind, and the feeling of the truth is burning in the heart. The
emotions burst forth as from a volcano. Jer 20:8-9. The language
should always be a faithful representation of the mind and the
heart. G. Rogers, Tutor of the Metropolitan Tabernacle
College.
Verse 2. There is a sevenfold silence.
1. A stoical silence.
2. A politic silence.
3. A foolish silence.
4. A sullen silence.
5. A forced silence.
6. A despairing silence.
7. A prudent, a holy, a gracious silence.
—Thomas Brooks' "Mute Christian."
Verse 4. Make me to know mine end.
1. What we may desire to know about our end. Not its date,
place, circumstances, but
(a). Its nature. Will it be the end of saint or
sinner?
(b). Its certainty.
(c). Its nearness.
(d). Its issues.
(e). Its requirements. In the shape of attention,
preparation, passport.
2. Why ask God to make us know it? Because the
knowledge is important, difficult to acquire, and can be effectually
imparted by the Lord only. W. Jackson.
Verse 4. David prays,
1. That he may be enabled continually to keep in view the end
of life: all things should be judged by their end.
"Then understood I their end." Life may be honourable,
and cheerful, and virtuous here; but the end! What will
it be?
2. That he may be diligent in the performance of all the
duties of this life. The measure of his days, how short, how
much to be done, how little time to do it in!
3. He prays that he may gain much instruction and benefit
from the frailties of life. That I may know, etc. My
frailties may make me more humble, more diligent, while I am
able for active service; more dependent upon divine strength,
more patient and submissive to the divine will, more ripe for
heaven. —G. Rogers.
Verse 5. (last clause). Man is vanity, i.e.,
he is mortal, he is mutable. Observe how emphatically this truth
is expressed here.
1. Every man is vanity, without exception, high and
low, rich and poor.
2. He is so at his best estate; when he is young, and
strong, and healthful, in wealth and honour, etc.
3. He is altogether vanity, as vain as you can
imagine.
4. Verily he is so.
5. Selah is annexed, as a note commanding observation. —Matthew
Henry.
Verse 6. The vanity of man, as mortal, is here
instanced in three things, and the vanity of each shown.
1. The vanity of our joys and honours: Surely every man
walketh in a vain show.
2. The vanity of our griefs and fears: Surely they are
disquieted in vain.
3. The vanity of our cares and toils: He heapeth up
riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them.
—Matthew Henry.
Verse 6. The world's trinity consists, 1. In fruitless
honours: what appears to them to be substantial honours are but a
vain show. 2. In needless cares. They are disquieted in
vain. Imaginary cares are substituted for real ones. 3. In
useless riches; such as yield no lasting satisfaction to
themselves, or in their descent to others. G. Rogers.
Verse 7. What wait I for? 1. For what
salvation as a sinner? Of works or grace—from Sinai or
Calvary? 2. For what consolation as a sufferer? Earthly
or heavenly? 3. For what supply as a suppliant? Meagre or
bountiful? Present or future? 4. For what communication as a
servant? Miraculous or ordinary? Pleasing or unacceptable?
5. For what instruction as a pupil? Mental or spiritual?
Elating or humbling? Ornamental or useful? 6. For what
inheritance as an heir? Sublunary or celestial? W.
Jackson.
Verse 7.
1. An urgent occasion. And now Lord, etc. There are
seasons that should lead us specially to look up to God, and
say, Now, Lord. "Father, the hour is come."
2. A devout exclamation, Now, Lord, what wait I for?
Where is my expectation? where my confidence? To whom shall I
look? I am nothing, the world is nothing, all earthly sources of
confidence and consolation fail: What wait I for? In
life, in death, in a dying world, in a coming judgment, in an
eternity at hand; what is it that I need? —G. Rogers.
Verse 8.
1. Prayer should be general:Deliver me from all my
transgressions. We often need anew to say, "God be
merciful to me a sinner." Afflictions should remind us of
our sins. If we pray to be delivered from all transgressions, we
are sure to be delivered from the one for which affliction was
sent.
2. Prayer should be particular:Make me not the
reproach of the foolish. Suffer me not so to speak or show
impatience in affliction as to give occasion even to the foolish
to blaspheme. The thought that many watch for our halting should
be a preservative from sin. —G. Rogers.
Verse 9.
1. The occasion referred to. I was dumb, etc.
We are not told what the particular trial was, that each one may
apply it to his own affliction, and because all are to be viewed
in the same light.
2. The conduct of the psalmist upon that particular
occasion: I opened not my mouth. (a) Not in anger and
rebellion against God in murmurs or complaints. (b) Not in
impatience, or complaining, or angry feelings against men. (c)
The reason he assigns for this conduct: Because thou
didst it. G. Rogers.
Verse 10.
1. Afflictions are sent by God. Thy strokes.
They are strokes of his hand, not of the rod of the law,
but of the shepherd's rod. Every affliction is his
stroke.
2. Afflictions are removed by God. Remove. He
asks not for miracles, but that God in his own way, in the use
of natural means, would interpose for his deliverance. We should
seek his blessing upon the means employed for our deliverance
both by ourselves and others. "Cause to remove, "etc.
3. Afflictions have their end from God. I am consumed by
the conflict, etc. God hath a controversy with his people.
It is a conflict between his will and their wills. The psalmist
owns himself conquered and subdued in the struggle. We should be
more anxious that this end should be accomplished than that the
affliction should be removed, and when this is accomplished the
affliction will be removed. G. Rogers.
Verse 10.
1. The cause of our trials: "for
iniquity." Oh, this trial is come to take away my
comforts, my peace of mind, and the divine smile! No, this is
all the fruit to take away their sin—the dross, none of the
gold—sin, nothing but sin.
2. The effect of our trials. All that he counted
desirable in this life, but not for his real good, is consumed.
His robes which are beautiful in men's esteem are moth eaten,
but the robe of righteousness upon his soul cannot decay.
3. The design of our trials. They are not penal
inflictions, but friendly rebukes and fatherly corrections.
On Christ our Surety the penal consequences were laid, upon us
their paternal chastisements only.
4. The reasonableness of our trials. "Surely
every man is vanity." How in a world like this could
any expect to be exempt from trials! The world is the same to
the Christian as before, and his body is the same. He has a
converted soul in an unconverted body, and how can he escape the
external ills of life? G. Rogers.
Verse 12. David pleads the good impressions made upon
him by his affliction.
1. It had set him a weeping.
2. It had set him a praying.
3. It had helped to wean him from the world.
—Matthew Henry.
Verse 12. (last clause). Am I a stranger and a
sojourner with God? Let me realise, let me exemplify the
condition.
1. Let me look for the treatment such characters
commonly meet with.
2. And surely if any of my own nation be near me, I shall be
intimate with them.
3. Let me not be entangled in the affairs of this
life.
4. Let my affection be set on things that are above,
and my conversation be always in heaven.
5. Let me be not impatient for home; but prizing
it. —W. Jay.
Verse 13.
1. The subject of his petition—not that he may
escape death and live always in this life, because he knows that
he must go hence; but 1. That he may be recovered from his
afflictions; and, 2. That he may continue longer in this life.
Such a prayer is lawful when offered in submission to the will
of God.
2. The reasons for this petition. 1. That he may
remove by his future life, the calumnies that had been heaped
upon him. 2. That he may have brighter evidences of his interest
in the divine favour. 3. That he may become a blessing to
others, his family and nation. 4. That he might have greater
peace and comfort in death; and, 5. That he might "have an
entrance ministered more abundantly, "etc. —G.
Rogers.
WORK UPON THE THIRTY-NINTH PSALM
Expository Lectures on Psalm Thirty-nine, in
Archbishop Leighton's Works.