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URiNG many  weeks  of  extreme  languor the Psalms  have  never  been  out  of  my hands. I was  never  wearied  of  reading  over and over  those  sublime  lamentations,  those flights of  hope,  those  supplications  full  of love,  which  answer  to  all  the  wants  and  all the miseries  of  human  nature. It is  nearly three thousand  years  since  a  king  composed those songs  in  his  days  of  repentance  and desolation; and  we  still  find  in  them  the expression of  our  deepest  anguish,  and  the consolation of  our  sorrows. The priest  recites them  daily;  thousands  of  monasteries have been  founded  in  order  that  these  psalms might be  chanted  at  every  hour,  and  that  this voice of  supplication  might  never  be  silent. The Gospel  alone  is  superior  to  the  hymns  of David,  and  this  only  because  it  is  their  fulfilment, because  all  the  yearnings,  all  the ardors, all  the  holy  impatience  of  the  prophet find their  accomplishment  in  the  Redeemer issued of  his  race. —

The Psalms,  besides  their  inspiration,  their majesty and  pathos,  their  sublime  poetry,  and their prophetic  character,  have  a  threefold claim to  our  veneration  —  as  the  Prayer  of David,    the   Prayer   of  Jesus   Christ,  and