the loftiest poetry is in them. Figurative they are in every phrase; and they are so manifestly figurative in what is affirmed concerning the celestial framework that they stand exempt, in the judgment of reasonable criticism, on the one hand from the childish literal renderings of superstition; and on the other hand from the nugatory captiousness of rationalism. A magnificent image is that of the sun coming forth refreshed each morning anew from his pavilion, and rejoicing as a strong man to run a race! Frivolous is the superstition which supposes that an astronomic verity is couched in these figures, and that thus the warranty of Inspiration is pledged to what is untrue in nature. Equally frivolous is the criticism which catches at this superstition, and on the ground of it labours to prove that the Bible takes part with the Ptolemaic theory, and rejects the modern astronomy! Be it so that David's own conception of the celestial system might be of the former sort, and that he would have marvelled at the latter; but, as an inspired writer, he no more affirms the Ptolemaic astronomy, than he affirms that the sun—a giant—comes forth from a tent every morning.
Look to the Eighth Psalm, and estimate its theologic value—its inspired import—by reading it as a bold contradiction of errors all around it—the dreams of Buddhism—the fables of Brahminism—the Atheism of the Greek Philosophy, and the malign Atheism of our modern metaphysics. Within the
