Salmos 19

XIX.

The abrupt change in rhythm, and apparently in thought, at Salmos 19:7 of this poem suggests a compilation from two originally distinct pieces. This view, it is true, is not supported by any ancient texts or versions, and, among modern scholars, there are some of eminence who still maintain the original unity. They urge that the psalm merely repeats what is the fundamental principle of the Theocracy, which is expressly testified by the Old Testament from the earliest times — the identity of the God of Revelation with the Creator of the universe. But this gives a very imperfect, and hardly a correct, explanation of the psalm. For the second part does not treat the moral law as a revelation of God to man, but as a revelation to man of his duties, and implies that man continually needs forgiveness for lapsing from the road of right. It would be truer to the spirit of the Old Testament to urge that a poet, thrown by the contemplation of the glory of the heavens into a state of religious emotion, naturally passes on to the Law where he has had prepared for him a guide and help in his religion. But for the original separation of the two pieces, the versification, the tone, the poetic feeling all plead. It was, however, an inspired moment when they were united, and thus made to suggest the deep truth that man’s obedience to the Divine will, though it cannot be so unswerving as that of the heavens, but is inconstant, and often fails, yet is of a higher order, and is fruitful of yet higher and nobler praise than all the evidence of power and majesty in the outward works of God. The glory of conscious above that of unconscious obedience did not definitely present itself, perhaps, to the mind of him who completed the poem, but it is latent there. The sun leaping forth from his eastern tent to flame through his glorious day, knows nothing of the self-questionings and fears felt by God’s human servant trying to do His will. It is only by a bold metaphor that Wordsworth can connect the idea of duty with the law which “preserves the stars from wrong.” More in harmony with the feeling suggested by the psalm is the answer put by another poet into the mouth of nature to console the human soul ashamed of its “struggling task’d morality” in view of the serene service of earth and sky —

“‘Ah! child,’ she cried, ‘that strife Divine,
Whence was it, for it is not mine?
There is no effort on my brow;
I do not strive, I do not weep;
I rush with the swift spheres, and glow
In joy, and when I will, I sleep.’ ”

MATTHEW ARNOLD.

The Davidic authorship of the first part of the psalm is hardly to be questioned.