Psalm 148:14

"The praise of all his saints."—Ps. cxlviii. 14.

And who is this, my soul, but Jesus? Is he not indeed both the praise and the glory, the delight and the joy, the portion and the happiness of all his people? His saints, doth it say? Yes, saints, made so by his righteousness and salvation, when taken from among sinners; and when themselves sinners, he hath washed them in his blood, clothed them with his garment of salvation, and granted them an inheritance among the saints in light. And is he not their praise? Indeed, is there any other the object of their praise, to whom they look up, in whom they delight, but Him, in whom God their Father hath made them accepted in Him, the Beloved? Say then, my soul, is he not thy praise this day; and will he not be thine everlasting, unceasing praise, every day, and all the day, and through the endless day of eternity? Who shall be thy praise but Jesus; his beauty, his glory, his excellency; in whom all divine perfections centre? Who shall be thy praise but Jesus, the Mediator, the Christ of God, whose glory it is to redeem poor sinners and make them saints; to give out of his fulness, and grace for grace? Who shall be thy praise, but he that hath made thy peace, in the blood of his cross, and ever liveth to make intercession for thee? Oh thou fair and lovely one, the chiefest among ten thousand, thou art my praise, my glory, my song, my rejoicing! Every day, will I praise thee; morning by morning will I hail thy name, and night by night testify thy faithfulness. Here, while upon earth, will I unceasingly speak of thy praise; and, ere long, I shall join the happy multitude above, in that song—"To him that hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood!" Oh thou that art the praise of all the saints.