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The high hills are a refuge - The barren tops of the highest hills, and the craggy abrupt precipices of the most stupendous rocks, are not without their uses: they afford protection, refuge, and food, for creatures whose dispositions and habits are suited to such places; and thus no part of the creation is useless. The creatures who are their inhabitants are necessary links in the great chain of animated beings, and show the wisdom and providence of God.
For a description of the covey, see Leviticus 11:5. The יעל yael, translated here the wild goat, is no doubt a creature of the stag or deer kind; the ibex, chamois, antelope, etc.
The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats - Still keeping up the description of animated nature - the carrying out of the work of creation. The idea is, that nature is full of life. Even the most inaccessible places - the rocks - the high hills - have their inhabitants. Where man cannot climb or dwell, there are abodes of animals which God has made to dwell there, and which find there a refuge - a shelter - a home. On the word used here, and rendered “wild goats,” see the notes at Job 39:1. The word occurs elsewhere only in 1 Samuel 24:2.
And the rocks for the conies - The word here “employed” - שׁפן shâphân - denotes a quadruped that chews the cud, in the manner of a hare Leviticus 11:5; Deuteronomy 14:7, and living in flocks. The rabbis render it the “coney,” or rabbit, as our translators have done. The habits of the rabbit accord with this description. The word occurs nowhere else, except in Proverbs 30:26, where it is rendered, as here, “conies.”
Not even a sparrow falls to the ground without the Father's notice. Satan's hatred against God leads him to delight in destroying even the dumb creatures. It is only through God's protecting care that the birds are preserved to gladden us with their songs of joy. But He does not forget even the sparrows. “Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.” Matthew 10:31. 8T 273.1
“Bless Jehovah, O my soul.
O Jehovah my God, Thou art very great;
Thou art clothed with honor and majesty:
Who coverest Thyself with light as with a garment;
Who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain;
Who layeth the beams of His chambers in the waters;
Who maketh the clouds His chariot;
Who walketh upon the wings of the wind;
Who maketh winds His messengers;
Flames of fire His ministers;
8T 273.2
“Who laid the foundations of the earth,
That it should not be moved forever.
Thou coveredst it with the deep as with a vesture;
The waters stood above the mountains.
At Thy rebuke they fled;
At the voice of Thy thunder they hasted away
(The mountains rose, the valleys sank down)
Unto the place which Thou hadst founded for them.
Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over;
That they turn not again to cover the earth.
8T 273.3
How beautiful the psalmist's description of God's care for the creatures of the woods— “The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats;
And the rocks for the conies.” Psalm 104:18. He sends the springs to run among the hills, where the birds have their habitation, and “sing among the branches.” Psalm 104:12. All the creatures of the woods and hills are a part of His great household. He opens His hand, and satisfies “the desire of every living thing.” Psalm 145:16.
Ed 118.1
The eagle of the Alps is sometimes beaten down by the tempest into the narrow defiles of the mountains. Storm clouds shut in this mighty bird of the forest, their dark masses separating her from the sunny heights where she has made her home. Her efforts to escape seem fruitless. She dashes to and fro, beating the air with her strong wings, and waking the mountain echoes with her cries. At length, with a note of triumph, she darts upward, and, piercing the clouds, is once more in the clear sunlight, with the darkness and tempest far beneath. So we may be surrounded with difficulties, discouragement, and darkness. Falsehood, calamity, injustice, shut us in. There are clouds that we cannot dispel. We battle with circumstances in vain. There is one, and but one, way of escape. The mists and fogs cling to the earth; beyond the clouds God's light is shining. Into the sunlight of His presence we may rise on the wings of faith. Ed 118.2
Many are the lessons that may thus be learned. Self-reliance, from the tree that, growing alone on plain or mountainside, strikes down its roots deep into the earth, and in its rugged strength defies the tempest. The power of early influence, from the gnarled, shapeless trunk, bent as a sapling, to which no earthly power can afterward restore its lost symmetry. The secret of a holy life, from the water lily, that, on the bosom of some slimy pool, surrounded by weeds and rubbish, strikes down its channeled stem to the pure sands beneath, and, drawing thence its life, lifts up its fragrant blossoms to the light in spotless purity. Ed 119.1
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