EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUAINT SAYINGS (2)

“The net is not pitched for ravenous birds, as are the hawk and the kite; but for poor harmless birds, that never meditate mischief.’ And

“The dove shall surely be shot at, when the carrion-crow shall go shot-free.”[25]

It will then be no news unto you, that here the faithful soul, the spouse, the dove of Christ, when trouble and heaviness take hold upon her, and the floods of Belial compass her about Tanquam avis e cave liberari cupit (as St. Austin speaks of the cloistered monks in his time), “Desireth like a bird to be loosed out of her cage.” Or, that as Jonas (by interpretation a dove), after three days’ and three nights’ imprisonment in the whale’s belly, could not but long after his enlargement. So the dove-like soul of man, when not three, but many days, and months, and years, she hath been imprisoned in the body, hath a longing desire to be enlarged, and to fly unto God that made her; and so mourning like a dove in devout supplication and mounting like a dove in divine speculation, breaks forth into these sad elegies: “Oh that I had wings!” and “Alas, that I have not wings! Woe is me that I am constrained to dwell with Mesech, and to have mine habitation among the tents of Kedar. Like as the hart desires the water-brook, so longeth my soul to be with thee, O God. I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ. Who will give me wings?” etc. Which is as if the poor distressed soul, pathetically bemoaning her forlorn estate of pilgrimage, should thus more plentifully enlarge herself. “My spouse is already ascended higher than the winds, than the clouds, than the highest heavens, and I, poor soul, as a husbandless widow, as a tutorless orphan, as a comfortless exile, am left desolate and disconsolate in this valley of tears; none to care for me, none to comfort me, till I have regained him whom I love, and in whom I live. Nay (which worse is), this mine own familiar friend, this nearest and dearest companion of mine, my body, is even a burden unto me. The weight of it, and oft the sins that hang so fast on it, doth so clog and shackle me, so glue and nail me to the earth, that I cannot raise or rear up myself towards heaven. Or let him therefore descend to relieve me, being filia, sponsa, soror, his daughter, and spouse, and sister; or let him give me wings wherewith I may ascend to him, under the shadow of whose wings I shall surely rest in safety.” Ps. xci. 4.

“I must confess it was the very bitterness of extremity that first compelled me to love him, though of himself no less lovely than love itself. It was the sharp sauce of affliction that gave edge to mine affections, and sharpened mine appetite to that ‘sweet meat that endureth to everlasting life.’ But now, having had some little foretaste of him, I am even in an holy ecstacy, so ravished, so transported with a fervent desire of him and of his presence, that ubi sum, ibi non sum; ubi non sum, ibi animus est: ‘where I am, there I am not; and where I am not, there am I.’ For, anima est ubi amat, non ubi animat:[26] ‘The soul is where it loveth, not where it liveth.’ Now sigh I not so much for the present dangers I would decline, as because of my absent love, whom I most desire. ‘Who will give me wings?’” etc.

In the scanning of which verse, ye will observe with me,

I. The efficient or author of these wings—God. “Who will give me?” Who? that is, who but God?

II. The matter of the wish—“wings.” “Who will give me wings?”

III. The form of those wings—dove-like. “Who will give me wings like unto a dove?”

IV. The end mediate—flying. “Then would I fly away.”

V. The end ultimate—resting. “And be at rest.”

I. “Who will give me?” There’s Christian humility. II. “Who will give me wings?” There’s prudent celerity. III. “Wings like unto a dove.” There’s innocent simplicity. IV. “Then would I fly away.” There’s devout sublimity. V. “And be at rest.” There’s permanent security.—John Rawlinson, in “The Dove-like Sovle. A Sermon preached before the Prince’s Highnes at Whitehall,” Feb. 19, 1618.

Verse 6.—“Oh that I had wings,” etc. Some of the most astounding sermons ever delivered have been preached on this text, which was a very favourite one with the old divines. They ransacked Pliny and Aldrovandus for the most outrageous fables about doves, their eyes, their livers, their crops, and even their dung, and then went on to find emblems of Christians in every fact and fable. Griffith Williams, at considerable length, enlarges upon the fact that David did not desire wings like a grasshopper to hop from flower to flower, as those hasty souls who leap in religion but do not run with perseverance; nor like an ostrich which keeps to the earth, though it be a bird, as hypocrites do who never mount towards heavenly things; nor like an eagle, or a peacock, or a beetle, or a crow, or a kite, or a bat; and after he has shown in many ways the similarity between the godly and doves, he refers us to Hugo Cardinalis, and others, for more. We do not think it would be to edification to load these pages with such eccentricities and conceits. This one single sentence from Bishop Patrick is worth them all, “He rather wished than hoped to escape.” He saw no way of escape except by some improbable or impossible means.—C. H. S.

Verse 6.—When the Gauls had tasted the wine of Italy, they asked where the grapes grew, and would never be quiet till they came there. Thus may you cry, “Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away, and be at rest.” A believer is willing to lose the world for the enjoyment of grace; and he is willing to leave the world for the fruition of glory.—William Secker.

Verse 6.—“Wings like a dove.” The pigeon, or dove, is one of the swiftest of birds.—The Religious Tract Society’s “Book of Psalms, with Preface and Explanatory Notes.”

Verse 6.—An old writer tells us it would have been more honourable for him to have asked for the strength of an ox to bear his trials, than for the wings of a dove to flee from them.—William Jay, 1769-1853.

Verse 6.—“Dove.” The reference is to the turtle-dove, I suppose. Their low, sad plaint may be heard all day long at certain seasons in the olive-groves, and in the solitary and shady valleys among these mountains; I have, however, been more affected by it in the vast orchards round Damascus than anywhere else—so subdued, so very sorrowful among the trees, where the air sighs softly, and little rills roll their melting murmurs down the flowery aisles. These birds can never be tamed. Confined in a cage they droop, and like Cowper, sigh for

and no sooner are they set at liberty than they flee, as a bird, to their mountain Ps. xi. 1. David refers to their habits in this respect when his heart was sore pained within him: “Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away, and be at rest. Lo, then would I wander far off, and remain in the wilderness.” And there you will meet these timid birds far away from the haunts of cruel hunters, of whose society they are peculiarly suspicious.—W. M. Thomson, in “The Land and the Book,” 1859.

Verse 6.—“Oh that I had wings,” etc.—

Verse 7.—“Lo, then would I wander far off,” etc. A passage in the “Octavia” of Seneca has been referred to as being parallel to this of David. It is in the answer of Octavia to the Chorus, act v., ver. 914-923.

Verse 8.—“I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest.” There was a windy storm and tempest without, and which is worse, a tumult and combustion within in his thoughts. A man may escape from external confusions, but how shall he fly from himself? If he be out of the reach of all the blood-suckers on earth, and all the furies in hell, yet be dogged and haunted with his own turbulent, ungovernable cogitations, he needs no other tormentors. This holy man was thus doubly distressed, a storm abroad and an earthquake at home rendered his condition most dolorous; but for both he hath εν μεγα; he goes not about with the foxes of this world to relieve himself with subtle stratagems and wiles, by carnal shifts and policies, a vanity tossed to and fro by them that seek death. No, his one great refuge is to get aloft, to ascend to God.—Thomas Sharp.

Verse 9.—“Destroy, Lord, and divide their tongues.” In the first place, their tongues were truly destroyed and they themselves divided, when the testimony of the two false witnesses agreed not so together. Then, secondly, by the contradictory account of the soldiers that kept watch at the sepulchre.—Michael Ayguan (1416), in J. M. Neale’s Commentary, 1860.

Verse 9.—“Divide their tongues:” i.e., cause them to give conflicting opinions.—French and Skinner, 1842.

Verse 10.—“Mischief also and sorrow are in the midst of it.” The city, as Abenezra observes, was like a circle; violence and strife were as a line round about it, and mischief and sorrow the centre of it; and these two commonly go together: where mischief is, sorrow follows.—John Gill.

Verse 12.—“Then I could have borne it.” It is remarkable that the Lord, who endured the other unspeakable sorrows and agonies of his passion in perfect and marvellous silence, allowed his grief at this one alone to escape him, bewailing himself to his disciples that one of them should betray him, and addressing that one, when he was taken, in these words of reproach—“Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man with a kiss?”—Fra Thomé de Jesu, 1582.

Verse 12.—“Then I would have hid myself from him.” It is generally easy to get out of the way of an avowed enemy, but how can one be on his guard against a treacherous friend?—A. R. Fausset, in “A Commentary, Critical, Experimental, and Practical,” 1866.

Verse 13.—“A man mine equal.” The LXX here not badly, ἰσόψυχε (of equal soul), Jerome, unanimus mens (of one mind).—Hermann Venema.

Verse 14.—“We took sweet counsel.” From מָתַק, to be sweet, and the ordinary notion of סוֹד for secret, the phrase נַמְתִּיק סוֹד will literally be read, we made our secret sweet. And so it may be an elegance, to signify the pleasure of his friendship, or of communicating secrets to him.—Henry Hammond.

Verse 14.—The first clause speaks of private intimacy, the next of association in public acts, and especially in the great festivals and processions of the temple.—J. J. Stewart Perowne, 1864.

Verse 14.—“In company.” In the end of the verse בְּרָגֶשׁ may be rendered with a noise: and so the Chaldee seems to have taken it, which reads with haste; and to that agree the Jewish doctors, who tell us men are to go in haste and with speed to the synagogue, but return thence very leisurely.—Henry Hammond.

Verse 15.—“Let death seize upon them, and let them go down quick into hell.” The last part and end of sinners’ lives is worst with them. They have in their lives been busily trading in the world, buying and selling, and getting gain and ruffling it in the world, but meanwhile by their sins they run deep in debt with God, and for want of interest in Christ to be their surety at death (it may be on the sudden) it comes to that of the Psalmist, “Let death seize upon them, and let them go down quick into hell.” Death seizeth on them unawares, as a sergeant or pursevant, casts them into prison, which is expressed by their going down quick into hell (as it is said, Num. xvi. 32, 33), that Korah and his company did.—Anthony Tuckney, 1599-1670.

Verse 15.—“Let death seize upon them” by divine warrant, and let them go quick into hell; let them be dead and buried, and damned in a moment; for wickedness is wherever they are, it is in the midst of them. The souls of impenitent sinners go down quick, or alive, into hell; for they have a perfect sense of their miseries, and shall therefore live still, that they may be still miserable. This prayer is a prophecy of the utter, the final, the everlasting ruin of all those who, whether secretly or openly, oppose and rebel against the Lord’s Messiah.—Matthew Henry.

Verse 15.—“Quick,” that is, alive, like Korah, Dathan and Abiram.—From “The Psalms chronologically arranged. By Four Friends,” 1867.

Verse 15.—Throughout this series of Psalms, there appears to be a peculiar penalty attached to each class of transgressions, or, each variety of opposition against God meets a suitable end. The ungodly, that is, the irreligious and indifferent lay up for themselves an evil recompence when the wrath of God shall be revealed (Psalm liv. 5): but an instant punishment falls upon false and treacherous professors; as Paul denounced “anathema” against any who perverted the gospel of Christ in the churches of Galatia; so in this Psalm, “Let death seize upon them, and let them go down quick into hell,” announces the awful judgment of Jehovah, as once it was shown upon Dathan and Abiram; a punishment that will by its suddenness and notoriety at the same time expose the guilt, and make manifest the displeasure of the Almighty against it.—R. H. Ryland, in “The Psalms restored to Messiah,” 1853.