The fourth psalm is the companion evening hymn. Its
former portion (vers. 2-4) seems to be a remonstrance addressed as if to the
leaders of the revolt ("sons of men" being equivalent to
"persons of rank and dignity"). It is the expression in vivid form,
most natural to such a nature, of his painful feeling under their slanders; and
also of his hopes and desires for them, that calm thought in these still
evening hours which are falling on the world may lead them to purer service and
to reliance on God. So forgivingly, so lovingly does he think of them, ere he
lays himself down to rest, wishing that "on their beds," as on his,
the peace of meditative contemplation may rest, and the day of war's alarms be
shut in by holy "communion with their own hearts" and with God.
The second portion
turns to himself and his followers, among whom we may suppose some faint hearts
were beginning to despond; and to them, as to the very enemy, David would fain
be the bringer of a better mind. "Many say, Who will show us good?"
He will turn them from their vain search round the horizon on a level with
their own eyes for the appearance of succour. They must look upwards, not
round about. They must turn their question, which only expects a negative
answer, into a prayer, fashioned like that triple priestly benediction of old
(Numbers vi. 24-26). His own experience bursts forth irrepressible. He had
prayed in his hour of penitence, "Make me to hear joy and gladness"
(Psa. li.); and the prayer had been answered, if not before, yet now when peril
had brought him nearer to God, and trust had drawn God nearer to him. In his
calamity, as is ever the case with devout souls, his joy increased, as Greek
fire burns more brightly under water. Therefore this pauper sovereign,
discrowned and fed by the charity of the Gileadite pastoral chief, sings,
"Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more than in the time that their corn
and wine increased." And how tranquilly the psalm closes, and seems to
lull itself to rest, "In peace I will at once lie down and sleep, for
Thou, O Jehovah, only makest me dwell safely." The growing security which
experience of God's care should ever bring, is beautifully marked by the
variation on the similar phrase in the previous psalm. There he gratefully
recorded that he had laid himself down and slept; here he promises himself
that he will lie down "in peace;" and not only so, but that at once
on his lying down he will sleep—kept awake by no anxieties, by no bitter
thoughts, but, homeless and in danger as he is, will close his eyes, like a
tired child, without a care or a fear, and forthwith sleep, with the pressure
and the protection of his Father's arm about him.