How poet-souls recognize the voices of nature may be illustrated by Milton's lines-

"His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant, in sign of worship wave!" What is peculiar to the psalmist is his recognizing signs of will in nature. He conceives of "stormy wind fulfilling his Word," voluntarily fulfilling it, and so an image of himself. It is a blending of poetic and pious feeling that thus leads man to make of nature a mirror in which he sees himself.

I. MAN PUTTING HIMSELF INTO THINGS. When we are impressed with anything in nature, we, in a sort of unconscious way, say to it, "If I were you, how should I feel, and what should I do?" And then we represent it to ourselves as actually feeling what we should feel, and doing what we should do. In this way the psalmist calls on the winds to praise God, because that is what he would do if he were the wind; and he calls on the wind to fulfill God's Word, because that is what he would do if he were the wind. This is man's interpreting of nature, which is never any more than interpreting himself in the terms of nature. But manifestly this putting of ourselves into things belongs exclusively to the poetic and the pious souls. To most men nature is but a satisfaction of artistic sensibilities: all that can be observed is the beautiful in form and color. It is but the sublime side of this truth to say that God puts himself into nature to show himself to us, as we put ourselves into nature to show ourselves to him.

II. MAN INFLUENCING HIMSELF BY SEEING HIMSELF IN THINGS. Introspection is neither healthy nor effective. A man must put himself outside himself; must find a mirror of himself, and see himself in the mirror. And what he thus sees is always himself as he should be. So the projection of himself is an inspiration to himself. The psalmist seas this in the one matter of obedience. Projecting himself into the stormy wind, he is inspired to the "fulfilling of God's Word." - R.T.

: — "Naturalists tell us," says Caryl, "that when the raven hath fed his young in the nest till they are well fledged and able to fly abroad, then he thrusts them out of the nest, and will not let them abide there, but puts them to get their own living. Now, when these young ones are upon their first flight from their nest, and are little acquainted with means how to help themselves with food, then the Lord provides food for them. It is said by credible authorities, that the raven is marvellously strict and severe in this; for as soon as his young ones are able to provide for themselves, he will not fetch any more food for them; yea, some affirm the old ones will not suffer them to stay in the same country where they were bred; and, if so, then they must needs wander. We say proverbially, 'Need makes the old wife trot'; we may say, and 'the young ones too.' It hath been, and possibly is, the practice of some parents towards their children, who, as soon as they can shift for themselves, and are fit in any competency to get their bread, they turn them out of doors, as the raven doth his young ones out of the nest. Now, saith the Lord in the text, when the young ones of the raven are at this pinch, that they are turned off, and wander for lack of meat, who then provides for them? Do not I, the Lord? Do not I, who provide for the old raven, provide for his young ones, both while they abide in the nest and when they wander for lack of meat?"

I. GOD HEARS THE YOUNG RAVENS; WILL HE NOT HEAR YOU?

1. I argue that He will, first, when I remember that it is only a raven that cries, and that you, in some senses, are much better than a raven. The raven is but a poor, unclean bird, whoso instant death would make no sort of grievous gap in creation. If thousands of ravens had their necks wrung to-morrow, I do not know that there would be any vehement grief and sorrow in the universe about them; it would simply be a number of poor birds dead, and that would be all. But you are an immortal soul, formed in God's own image. True, the raven is not sinful, as you are. But what does this prove? Why, that you are a creature capable of sinning, and, consequently, that you are an intelligent spirit living in a sense in which a raven does not live. You are a creature moving in the spirit-world; you belong to the world of souls, in which the raven has no portion. Doth God care for flesh, and blood, and bones, and black feathers, and will He not care for your reason, your will, your judgment, your conscience, your immortal soul? Oh, if you will but think of it, you must see that it is not possible for a raven's cry to gain an audience of the ear of Divine benevolence, and yet for your prayer to be despised and disregarded by the Most High.

2. There is a great deal of difference between your cry and the cry of a raven. When the young ravens cry, I suppose they scarcely know what they want. They have a natural instinct which makes them cry for food, but their cry does not in itself express their want. They have no articulate speech. But you do know what you want. Few as your words are, your heart knows its own bitterness and dire distress. Moreover, you have a multitude of arguments ready to hand, and you have an understanding with which to set them in array and marshal them to besiege the throne of grace.

3. Remember, that the matter of your prayer is more congenial to the ear of God than the raven's cry for meat. All that the young ravens cry for is food; give them a little carrion and they have done. Your cry must be much more pleasing to God's ear, for you entreat for forgiveness through the blood of His dear Son. It is a nobler occupation for the Most High to be bestowing spiritual than natural gifts.

4. The ravens are nowhere commanded to cry. When they cry their petition is unwarranted by any specific exhortation from the Divine mouth, while you have a warrant derived from Divine exhortations to approach the throne of God in prayer.

5. The cry of a young raven is nothing but the natural cry of a creature, but your cry, if it be sincere, is the result of a work of grace in your heart. When the raven cries to heaven it is nothing but the raven's own self that cries; but when you cry, "God be merciful to me a sinner," — it is God the Holy Spirit crying in you.

6. When the young ravens cry they cry alone, but when you pray you have a mightier one than you praying with you. Hear that sinner crying, "God be merciful to me a sinner." Hark! Do you hear that other cry which goes up with his? No, you do not hear it, because your ears are dull and heavy, but God hears it. There is another voice, far louder and sweeter than the first, and far more prevalent, mounting up at the same moment and pleading, "Father, forgive them through My precious blood."

II. IF YOU HAVE CRIED UNSUCCESSFULLY, STILL CRY ON. "Go again seven times," aye, and seventy times seven. Remember that the mercy of God in Christ Jesus is your only hope; cling to it, then, as a drowning man clings to the only rope within reach. If you perish praying for mercy through the precious blood, you will be the first that ever perished so. Cry on; just cry on; but, oh! believe, too; for believing brings the morning star and the day-dawn. But stay a while, I have something else to say. Is it possible that you may have already obtained the very blessing you are crying after? "Oh," say you, "I would not ask for a thing which I had already got; if I knew I had it, I would leave off crying, and begin praising and blessing God." Now, I do not know whether all of you seekers are in so safe a state, but I am persuaded that there are some seeking souls who have received the mercy for which they are asking. The Lord instead of saying to them to-night, "Seek ye My face," is saying, "Why criest thou unto Me? I have heard thee in an acceptable hour, and in an acceptable time have I succoured thee; I have blotted out thy sins like a cloud, and like a thick cloud thine iniquities; I have saved thee; thou art Mine; I have cleansed thee from all thy sins; go thy way and rejoice." In such a case believing praise is more suitable than agonizing prayer.

( C. H. Spurgeon.)