We are so accustomed nowadays to clocks and watches, that the ancient
difficulty of marking the time may never have occurred to us. We listen
to our time-pieces striking the hours and think no more about it. But
the Jew had no such time-piece. He had no other way of knowing the hour
than by listening to the voices of nature. The starry heavens stretched
above him like a great clock, and he could read its face every night.
The clear ringing voice of chanticleer was also heard, reminding him of
the advent of the dawn. And listening to these and such like voices,
and dividing the night by means of them, he was able in a rough and
general way to tell the advance of the hours. He made the night to
consist of four watches--"the even" from sunset to about nine o'clock,
"midnight" from nine to twelve, "cock-crowing" from twelve to three, and
"morning" from three to sunrise (see Mark xiii. 35).
The Rabbis used to say that David, the sweet singer of Israel, had a
harp hung over his bed, which sounded at midnight of its own accord, and
woke the king to prayer. And the children may remember that our own King
Alfred is reported to have used graduated candles to measure the hours
of the night. But until the advent of the pendulum, the accurate
measurement of time was impossible. The face of the sky or the crowing
of the cock could not give an exact chronometry.
Nevertheless it had one clear advantage. It kept man in touch with
nature. It made him listen reverently to the voices of the night. And
that was an education which we can ill afford to disregard. We are not
made richer by its loss. We may only have lost our reverence for the
sake of our mathematics. Influenced by it, the pious Jew responded to
every voice of nature by uttering a blessing on the divine name. Even
when the crow of the cock fell on his ear he was instructed to say,
"Blessed is He who hath given wisdom to the bird." If our modern
chronometry has abolished that, perhaps we have paid too dear for our
clocks and watches. To have time-pieces that go to the minute is a
great deal; but to hear voices that keep us in touch with God is a great
deal more. "Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth." Rise up
and pray at "_the voice of the bird_." We are even told that God giveth
_songs_ in the night (Job xxxv. 10).
"They err who say that music dwells
Alone within the halls of light;
In anthems loud it also swells
Within the temple of the night.
The happy birds that soar and sing
May all be mute when day is done,
The hum of insects on the wing
May sink to silence with the sun.
But when the sounds of toil are o'er,
And silence reigns beneath the stars,
A murmur runs along the shore,
Where ocean smites his sandy bars.
Its echo floats upon the wind,
Beneath the moonbeam's mystic light,
And stealing o'er the listening mind,
Produces music in the night.
While far among the stars, as runs
The legend through a thousand years,
Amid the rolling of the suns
Is heard the _music of the spheres_.
The roll of ocean and of star
Dispensing music through the night;
The one behind its sandy bar,
The other in the realms of light.
But both to teach the human breast
That He who guides the star and wave
Can also breathe a psalm of rest
Around the portal of the grave.
The night of grief, of sin, of death,
Is not impervious to His power;
It feels the influence of His breath,
Like springtime come to woo the flower.
It melts in music o'er the soul,
For grief has caught the glorious light,
And rolling as the billows roll,
_His_ songs are heard within the night."