Teach me, O Lord, the way of Thy statutes, and I shall keep it unto
   the end.  Give me understanding, and I shall keep Thy Law; yea, I
   shall observe it with my whole heart.

This 119th Psalm has been valued for many centuries, by the wisest and most devout Christians, as one of the most instructive in the Bible; as the experimental psalm.  And it is that, and more.  It is specially a psalm about education.  That is on the face of the text.  Teach me, O Lord, Thy statutes, and I shall keep them to the end.  These are the words of a man who wishes to be taught, and therefore to learn; and to learn not mere book-learning and instruction, but to acquire a practical education, which he can keep to the end, and carry out in his whole life.

But it is more.  It is, to my mind, as much a theological psalm as it is an experimental psalm; and it is just as valuable for what it tells us concerning the changeless and serene essence of God, as for what it tells us concerning the changing and struggling soul of man.

Let us think a little this morning—­and, please God, hereafter also—­of the Psalm, and what it says.  For it is just as true now as ever it was, and just as precious to those who long to educate themselves with the true education, which makes a man perfect, even as his Father in heaven is perfect.

The Psalm is a prayer, or collection of short prayers, written by some one who had two thoughts in his mind, and who was so full of those two thoughts that he repeated them over and over again, in many different forms, like one who, having an air of music in his head, repeats it in different keys, with variation after variation; yet keeps true always to the original air, and returns to it always at the last.

Now what two thoughts were in the Psalmist’s mind?

First:  that there was something in the world which he must learn, and would learn; for everything in this life and the next depended on his learning it.  And this thing which he wants to learn he calls God’s statutes, God’s law, God’s testimonies, God’s commandments, God’s everlasting judgments.  That is what he feels he must learn, or else come to utter grief, both body and soul.

Secondly:  that if he is to learn them, God Himself must teach them to him.  I beg you not to overlook this side of the Psalm.  That is what makes it not only a psalm, but a prayer also.  The man wants to know something.  But beside that, he prays God to teach it to him.

He was not like too many now-a-days, who look on prayer, and on inspiration, as old-fashioned superstitions; who believe that a man can find out all he needs to know by his own unassisted intellect, and then do it by his own unassisted will.  Where they get their proofs of that theory, I know not; certainly not from the history of mankind, and certainly not from their own experience, unless it be very different from mine.  Be that as it may, this old Psalmist would not have agreed with them; for he held an utterly opposite belief.  He held that a man could see nothing, unless God shewed it to him.  He held that a man could learn nothing unless God taught him; and taught him, moreover, in two ways.  First taught him what he ought to do, and then taught him how to do it.