LITTLE BOOKS ON RELIGION Edited by The Rev. W. Robertson Nicoll, LL.D. Elegantly bound in cloth, price _1s. 6d._ each. Christ and the Future Life. By R.W. Dale, LL.D. The Seven Words from the Cross. By the Rev. W. Robertson Nicoll, LL.D. The Visions of a Prophet. By the Rev. Professor Marcus Dods, D.D. Why be a Christian? Addresses to Young Men. By the same Author. The Four Temperaments. By the Rev. Alexander Whyte, D.D. The Upper Room. By the Rev. John Watson, M.A., D.D. Four Psalms. By the Rev. Professor George Adam Smith, D.D., LL.D. Gospel Questions and Answers. By the Rev. James Denney, D.D. The Unity and Symmetry of the Bible. By the Rev. John Monro Gibson, D.D. _HODDER & STOUGHTON_ FOUR PSALMS XXIII. XXXVI. LII. CXXI. INTERPRETED FOR PRACTICAL USE BY GEORGE ADAM SMITH HODDER AND STOUGHTON TO M.S. AND H.A.S. CONTENTS I PSALM XXIII: GOD OUR SHEPHERD II PSALM XXXVI: THE GREATER REALISM III PSALM LII: RELIGION THE OPEN AIR OF THE SOUL IV PSALM CXXI: THE MINISTRY OF THE HILLS AND ALL GREAT THINGS PSALM XXIII GOD OUR SHEPHERD The twenty-third Psalm seems to break in two at the end of the fourth verse. The first four verses clearly reflect a pastoral scene; the fifth appears to carry us off, without warning, to very different associations. This, however, is only in appearance. The last two verses are as pastoral as the first four. If these show us the shepherd with his sheep upon the pasture, those follow him, shepherd still, to where in his tent he dispenses the desert's hospitality to some poor fugitive from blood. The Psalm is thus a unity, even of metaphor. We shall see afterwards that it is also a spiritual unity; but at present let us summon up the landscape on which both of these features--the shepherd on his pasture and the shepherd in his tent--lie side by side, equal sacraments of the grace and shelter of our God. A Syrian or an Arabian pasture is very different from the narrow meadows and fenced hill-sides with which we are familiar. It is vast, and often virtually boundless. By far the greater part of it is desert--that is, land not absolutely barren, but refreshed by rain for only a few months, and through the rest of the year abandoned to the pitiless sun that sucks all life from the soil. The landscape is nearly all glare: monotonous levels or low ranges of hillocks, with as little character upon them as the waves of the sea, and shimmering in mirage under a cloudless heaven. This bewildering monotony is broken by only two exceptions. Here and there the ground is cleft to a deep ravine, which gapes in black contrast to the glare, and by its sudden darkness blinds the men and sheep that enter it to the beasts of prey which have their lairs in the recesses. But there are also hollows as gentle and lovely as those ravines are terrible, where water bubbles up and runs quietly between grassy banks through the open shade of trees.