BBB
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS IN THE LIFE
OF KING DAVID.
AND
I ft THE LlfE OF
CHARLES V1NCE.
LONDON:
ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW.
1871.
BRETHREN, LET JVIE FREELY
SPE/.K U]MTO YOU OF THE P^T^IARCH
DAVID."
2000102
PREFA CE.
E historical books of the Old Testament
are the objects of repeated attacks. One
of the best methods of defending- them and pre-
serving our belief in them is to use them dili-
gently for practical religious purposes. If our
acquaintance with them be very imperfect, and
our study of them very infrequent, the spiritual
profit we derive must be scanty. The less good
we get from them the more difficult it is to
maintain a living faith in their Divine authority.
On the other hand, the more the histories of
Scripture are read, the more it will be seen how
true they are to human life and experience ; how
preface.
full they are of revelations of God and man; and
how rich they are in lessons of wisdom for all
generations. If by using- them we find that they
are "profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for cor-
rection, for instruction in righteousness," it will
be no impossible task for us to believe that
" they were given by inspiration of God." By
their fruits in our own hearts and lives we shall
judge them, knowing that men do not gather
grapes off thorns, or figs of thistles.
It is with the hope of promoting, in some
measure, an increased use of Old Testament
histories that the following studies in the life of
David are published. Only a few of the inci-
dents of his eventful career have been taken,
and these are not more fruitful in instruction
than many of those which for lack of space have
been left unnoticed. There will be a good re-
compense for the labour of writing, if what is
here written sends its readers to the Bible with
jftjetace. ix
the determination to learn afresh all which can
be learnt of the man after God's own heart.
The writer is quite aware that in his desire
to be always practical, he is sometimes, if not
frequently, desultory. Will the readers who
blame him for sacrificing- the unity of any par-
ticular chapter, kindly bear in mind for what
purpose the sacrifice was made. The aim
throughout has been to show that there is some
lesson for to-day in every recorded fact in
the life of him who, in such a far-off time,
" served his generation by the will of God, fell
asleep, and was laid unto his fathers."
CONTENTS.
PAGE
I. THE TWO VICTORIES I-N ONE DAY . . i
II. DIVINE GOODNESS IN HUMAN FRIEND-
SHIP 23
III. VENGEANCE LEFT WITH HIM TO WHOM
IT BELONGS 45
IV. NABAL THE CHURL 67
V. DIVINE CORRECTION OF A PROPHETS
MISTAKE, AND DIVINE DENIAL OF
A KING'S DESIRE 87
VI. GREAT TROUBLES FOLLOWING GREAT
TRANSGRESSIONS 119
VII. THE QUICKENING OF DAVID'S CON-
SCIENCE BY RIZPAH'S EXAMPLE . 141
(Contents.
VIII. THE TWO THINGS WHICH DAVID HAD
NEVER SEEN 165 y
IX. THE TWO THINGS WHICH DA VID HAD
NEVER SEEN (continued) 187
X. THE "LAST WORDS" OF DAVID ... 209
I.
THE TWO VICTORIES If* OJ^E
i SAM. xvii. 28, 29 ; 49, 50.
" And Eliab his eldest brother heard when he spake unto the men : and
Eliab's anger was kindled against David, and he said, Why earnest thou
down hither ? and with whom hast thou left those few sheep in the
wilderness? I know thy pride, and the naughtiness of thine heart; for
thou art come down that thou mightest see the battle. And David said,
What have I now done ? Is there not a cause ? . . . And David put his hand
in his bag, and took thence a stone, and slang it, and smote the Philistine
in his forehead, that trte stone sunk into his forehead ; and he fell upon his
face to the earth. So David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling
and with a stone, and smote the Philistine, and slew him ; but there was
no sword in the hand of David/'
THE TWO VICTORIES IN ONE DAY.
" '~T N HE LORD SEETH NOT AS MAN SEETH." For
* this fact uncounted multitudes will have
reason to rejoice and give thanks for evermore.
If the Lord had seen as men saw, David might
have been left to spend his long life and to fritter
away his great powers in keeping- a handful of
sheep in the wilderness. When, at the bidding
of Samuel, the sons of Jesse were called to the
sacrifice, no one thought of sending for David.
When the young men were made to pass before
the prophet, that he might find amongst them
the chosen of the Lord, neither the brothers nor
the father of David proposed that he also should
Victories in
be examined. It seems to have been a settled
conviction with them all that the youngest of the
household could not be the future king of Israel.
Not even, when ten of his family had been tried
and rejected, did Jesse volunteer the information
that he had yet another son. If there had been
a conspiracy to' frustrate the Divine purpose in
relation to David, his relatives could scarcely
have kept him out of sight more persistently, or
brought him forward more sluggishly and reluc-
tantly. When, a few months later, the war-
trumpet sounded throughout the land, and the
service of .all the brave and strong was needed
to resist the invading enemy who had encamped
almost beneath the shadows of the mountains that
were round about Jerusalem, Jesse sent three of
his sons to follow Saul to the battle, but David
was not with them. As if no one dreamed of
making him a soldier, he was still kept to his
obscure labours in the sheep-fold; and the greatest
service to which he was called by the voice of
man in that season of danger and alarm, was
Victories in l$ne Bay.
the lowly one of carrying- corn and cheeses to
his brothers, who were counted able to do some-
thing- for Israel's deliverance. Men were slow to
see the seeds of future greatness and godliness
which the Lord beheld, and they looked not for
succour in the direction whence He had ordained
it to come. Praise belong-s to Him for carrying-
out His own purpose despite the want of discern-
ment and sympathy on the part of His people.
If His thoughts had not prevailed over men's
thoughts, the Jewish nation would have lost one
of its greatest kings, and the Bible one of its
most thrilling and instructive histories. The
sweet singer of Israel could not have been mute
and inglorious; but probably he would have given
to mankind little beside quiet pastoral strains,
and his Psalms could not have had the wide
range and wondrous variety which they owe to
his chequered experience, and by which they are
so eminently fitted to be the book of praise and
prayer for the Church of God in all generations.
The Divine wisdom in the choice of David
6 ^he ff>ujo Victories in (f)ne Bay.
was soon proved when the time of trial came,
and he had an opportunity of showing- the regal
spirit the grace of God had given to him. When
he entered into the battle-field to begin his soldier-
life, he first showed his power in the mastery of
himself, and then went on to what was in many
respects an inferior triumph the conquest of
Goliath. He bore the revilings of his own bro-
ther with meekness, and then, in the same calm
and godly mood, he faced the dread foe of his
country. It was given to him to achieve two
great victories in the same place and on the
same day. The second triumph is by far the
more famous, but we must riot suffer its splen-
dour to hide from us the true glory of the first.
The man who kills a giant will always be more
talked of than the man who, against the force of
.strong temptations, controls his own temper; but
it is none the less true that " He that is slow
to anger is better than the mighty ; and he that
ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city."
I. David's victory over himself. He found the
Q>UJO Victories in I$ne Bay.
Jewish army headed by a faint-hearted king, and
chiefly made up of soldiers who had been sud-
denly emptied of all courage. Infectious fear
had spread through their ranks with greater
swiftness and power than a pestilence, and had
destroyed both their self-reliance and their faith
in God. As soon as the boastful Philistine
showed himself in the valley which lay between
the two encampments, all the men of Israel fled
from him in sore dismay. This was perplexing
as well as painful to David, for it did not at all
agree with his ideas of godliness or manliness
that the hosts of the Lord should turn their
backs upon the enemy. He sought to know the
matter thoroughly, and was specially anxious to
have repeated to him what honours would be
given to the man who could roll away the re-
proach of Israel by the defeat of the bold blas-
phemer. "And Eliab, his eldest brother, heard
when he spake unto the men : and Eliab's anger
was kindled against David, and he said, Why
earnest thou down hither ? and with whom hast
8 ^he ^>wo Victories in ne Bay.
thou left those few sheep in the wilderness ? I
know thy pride, and the naughtiness of thine
heart ; for thou art come down that thou might-
est see the battle." It is not difficult to conjec-
ture the cause of Eliab's ill-will and unjust up-
braidings. He had not forgiven David for the
distinction that God had granted, and the cruel
spirit of envy had turned him from a brother
into a foe. Was not Eliab rejected and David
accepted? and how could the eldest son endure
to see the youngest preferred before him ? Like
Cain, Eliab became implacable, and doubtless
hated in his brother the very excellencies for
which his God had put such high honour upon
him. True, it was Eliab's own brother who was
to have the kingdom, but what of that ? No-
thing would satisfy his envious heart excepting
his own possession of the promised greatness.
This fiendish passion of envy, so common in
human nature, can not only destroy the joy of a
brother in a brother's welfare, but would also, if
it could get into a mother's heart, be hellish
Victories in lf)ne
enough to make her miserable at the thought of
the prosperity of her own first-born boy. What
a foul thing that must be which finds the ele-
ments of its own perdition in a sight of the
paradise God gives to others, and which would
be wretched and wobegone in heaven itself if it
met with any one having stronger wings or a
higher place than its own !
Eliab might have had fraternal feeling enough
to be sorry if any great calamity had befallen
David, but his love was not strong enough for
the harder task of rejoicing over the bright pros-
pects opened up to his brother by the promises
of God. To weep with them that weep requires
less true sympathy than to rejoice with them that
rejoice. It is often far easier to our fallen natures
to be sincerely sorry over the adversity of our
neighbours, than to be sincerely and exultingly
thankful for the growing greatness of our friends
and kinsfolk. Pity for those whom failure has
thrust below us can find room in our hearts, when
they are too little to contain joy concerning those
Victories in
whom success has lifted above us. We have
known Christian men, and ministers too, who, if
you were in trouble, would be sure to come with
kind words and generous gifts; but, if you were
greatly prospered, they would be equally certain
to show more or less of a censorious spirit, and
find out something to say in disparagement of
your prosperity. When Moses lay a helpless
babe in the ark of bulrushes, how patiently Miriam
waited and watched by the river side ! How
promptly she did the work assigned to her! and
how ingeniously, with the art that conceals art, she
suggested that she should be sent to fetch a nurse
of the Hebrew women ! There was nothing in
her manner to awaken suspicion as she ran off
to bring back to Pharoah's daughter the babe's
own mother ! Her sisterly love and anxiety for
her imperilled brother made her skilful beyond
her years. But when, in after days, God had
put great honour upon Moses, and foolish people
were jealous of him, Miriam also was carried
away and spoke against him, and the Lord smote
Victories in
her with a foul leprosy, a fit symbol of the envy
which had broken out upon her soul to defile
and disfigure it. When, in the last judgment,
Envy is placed at the bar of God, what an indict-
ment will be laid against the Evil Spirit! The
insulting anger of Eliab the cruelty of Joseph's
brethren the murderous wrath of Cain and
the greatest share in the greatest crime in the
world, the crucifying of the Lord of glory will
be charged upon him. To cast this demon out
of our bosoms before that final condemnation is
one purpose of Jesus, and with all our hearts
we should pray for His complete and speedy
victory.
The taunts and insinuations of Eliab must have
cut David to the quick. He had come asking after
his brethren's welfare, and making contributions to
it, and this was the reward he received for all his
kindness. Moved by tender patriotism and piety,
he was anxious about the safety of his fatherland
and the glory of his God, but his evil-hearted
brother put it down to self-conceit and vanity, and
12 the ^uio Victories in i$ne Bay.
denounced, as an instigation of the wicked one,
that which David knew to be an inspiration from
heaven. If the undeserved rebuke had been ad-
ministered in private, it would have been hard to
bear; but Eliab was base enough to be a public
slanderer, and sought, by his foul aspersions, to
do irreparable damage to David's reputation
amongst those who saw him that day for the first
time, and would be too ready to think that there
must be good grounds for these charges of pride
and arrogance, seeing they were made by the
young man's own brother. " Why earnest thou
down hither?" Eliab asked, with insinuating em-
phasis, which clearly implied that the avowed
purpose of inquiring after and promoting the wel-
fare of his brethren was, on David's part, a mere
pretence, and that he was wearing' a mask of
brotherly kindness in order to hide his own self-
seeking and presumption. " With whom hast
thou left those few sheep in the wilderness?" was
the second evil-suggesting question. " It was
not much we cared to confide to you, and even
Victories in (fine $ay. 13
that little you have neglected. I know the pride
and the naughtiness of your heart. You may
deceive these strangers with your pretended zeal
and piety, but you cannot impose upon me."
Eliab spoke to David, but, doubtless, it was the
listening people he desired to impress with his
slanderous talk. He wanted to persuade them
that David was utterly unfit for that great work for
which he was about to offer himself; and, if the cruel
and false words had wrought their intended effect,
the people would have certainly refused to commit
their cause to the championship of an upstart
stripling, against whom even his own brother bore
such strong testimony. It would be difficult to
imagine a speech which, being of the same length,
should breathe more envy and malignity, suggest
more falsehood, and be capable of doing more
mischief! The temptation must have been strong
to answer it with words of burning indignation,
and only a man of much meekness and of great
self-control could have replied to it as David did.
Who likes to be accused of vile motives which he
14 $j>he tpwo "Victories in t)ne Bay.
knows have no place in his heart, and to hear
his very virtues denounced as being nothing- but
hideous vices which he tries to conceal by means
of pious airs and canting pretensions ? And what
must it be when the calumny comes from a brother,
and the sufferer, pointing to his reputation, pierced
with the sharp and poisonous tongue of slander,
has to exclaim, with grief too great for tears :
"These are the wounds which I have received in
the house of my friends." It was a cross of this
kind David had to carry, and he bore it as if there
had been given to him some prophetic foresight
of the perfect example of Him who endured such
contradiction of sinners against Himself, and who,
when He was reviled, 'reviled not again.
The restraint which David put upon his temper
under this great provocation was the most godly
thing he could have done, and therefore it was
the wisest and most profitable. Could he have
devised a better method of disproving his brother's
assertions ? If his spirit had flamed forth in angry
rejoinder, and if he had publicly branded his bro-
Victories in (f)ne Bay. 15
ther with the bad names he deserved to bear, the
people would probably have found in that so much
evidence to sustain Eliab's insinuations. But the
gentle spirit and the soft answer turning- away
wrath must have shown them how much David had
been misrepresented. If one be accused of being
a great sinner, there is no method of refuting the
charge equal to that of manifesting the spirit and
maintaining the character of a true saint. " By
their fruits ye shall know them. Men do not
gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles."
Having regard to the great work before him,
it was very important that David should keep his
temper. Could the second victory have been
achieved, if he had failed in the first conflict ? His
combat with Goliath demanded an undimmed eye,
a steady arm, and a calm heart ; and, if he had
given way to stormy passion for only a brief
season, there would have been a lingering fever-
ishness and nervousness utterly unfitting him for
the dread struggle on which the fate of two armies
and of two nations was depending. His strong
16 t^he ^wo Victories in l^ne $ay.
faith in God might not have sufficed to give him
the necessary quiet and steadiness if he had first
suffered fierce anger to disturb his spirit and fill
his body with trembling. That which was right
amidst the temptations of one hour was the best
preparation for the arduous labours of the next
hour. All other things being equal, he who is
most triumphant over temptation and most faithful
to duty to-day, will be the strongest for work
and warfare to-morrow. Let God be praised for
giving to His servant David the sweet charity
which suffereth long and is not easily provoked !
Happy they who will not let their souls be easily
enkindled by other people's unrighteous anger,
but .who cultivate a spirit on which insulting words
and provoking deeds fall like fire-brands into the
quenching sea !
II. David's victory over Goliath. History records
many instances in which cruelty, and tyranny, and
persecution have thoroughly outwitted themselves
and frustrated their own purposes. Charity must
not rejoice in iniquity, but it may exult in the
5wo Victories in (f)ne Bay.
defeat of iniquity, and especially when iniquity
plays the part of a scorpion and stings itself, and
when, like Haman, it unwittingly prepares a
gallows for its own execution. The defeat of the
Philistines in the downfall of their great champion
is a most striking illustration of this kind of self-
destruction. A few years before the birth of
David, the subjugation of Israel by their old
enemies was most complete, and the conquerors
used their power in such a manner as to make it
very unlikely that the crushed people could ever rise
again. The whole nation was disarmed, and vigo-
rous measures were used to keep the people from
getting any fresh weapons. So abject were the
oppressed, and so politic were the oppressors, that
every man who followed the occupation of a smith
was either put to death or removed to a distance.
The roar of the forge, and the ring of the hammer
and the anvil, became sounds unknown in Israel ;
and any Jew who wanted implements for tilling
his land or reaping his corn had to go to the
Philistines for them. A file was the only tool the
c
1 8 ^>he f|5u)o Ttficttn'ies in !$ne Bay.
Jew was allowed to have; and when his plough-
share or his axe required more sharpening- than
the file could give it, he had to take it down to
his despotic masters, that with their leave, and
by their smiths, it might be made fit for use.
This degradation was put upon the Israelites, not
only as a sign of their subjection, but also to keep
them so destitute of warlike weapons that it would
be impossible for them to regain their freedom
on the field of battle. " Now there was no smith
found throughout all the land of Israel ; for the
Philistines said, Lest the Hebrews make them
swords or spears" (i Sam. xiii. 19).
This cruel policy was so successful that on one
occasion there were only two swords or spears
possesse'd by the entire Jewish army. Saul and
Jonathan had them; but all the res.t of the people
had to use such cumbrous and clumsy weapons
as unskilled hands could make without fire or
hammer. Necessity has always been the mother
of invention, and we may be certain that, when
iron weapons were denied to the Hebrews, their
j5he ^5wo !$ictcu;ie$ in .i^)ne $)ay. 19
skill was largely developed in other directions
The youth of the land could not practise sword-
exercise, or learn to poise the spear, and therefore
they would be driven to make themselves master,
of other methods of defence and assault. Before
this period, the Benjamites had become famous for
their skill in slinging-, for " Among all this people
there were seven hundred chosen men left-handed ;
every one could sling stones at an hair-breadth,
and not miss" (Judges xx. 16). When all edged
weapons were taken from them, the people would
be sure to turn again to those in whose use their
fathers had been so renowned, and practice would
again make perfect. Slings could be made with-
out forge or anvil, and smooth stones from the
brook need not be carried to the Philistine smiths
to be sharpened. These facts will satisfactorily
account for David's great skill in slinging a skill
which probably he would not have possessed if
the Philistines had not driven him to acquire it by
denying to him all the more cohimon and con-
venient implements of war. The closer encounter,
c 2
2o ^he >wo Victories in
which the use of swords would have made neces-
sary, would have put David to a great disadvant-
age ; and it was well for him that he was expert
with a weapon which could be used at a distance,
so as to prevent Goliath availing himself of his
superior stature and strength. Thus the issue
proved that the Philistines laid the foundation
of their own defeat when they took all swords
and spears from the Israelites, and compelled
them to try other means of accomplishing their
deliverance. The foes of God's people meant it
for evil, but God overruled it for good. He
brought blessing out of the curse, and made the
wrath of man to praise Him. He can make " all
things work together for good to them that love
Him, to them who are the called according to His
purpose."
David's skill with the sling -would have failed
to gain the victory if it had been divorced from
faith in God. It was his trust in the Lord which
gave such calmness to his soul, as surely as it was
the calmness of his soul which helped to make his
Victories in l^ne
arm so steady and his aim so sure. His faith,
however, was not a fanatical faith, which violates
reason and neglects the most appropriate means.
When he refused to wear Saul's armour, he
proved his common sense as much as he dis-
played his confidence in God. His determination
to use the sling* to which he was accustomed, and
not the sword which was strange to him, was
the most expedient thing he could do, and,
humanly speaking, his only hope of success. A
piety like David's will always be careful "to
keep the powder dry," as well as " put trust
in God." The faith of David was also asso-
ciated with experience as well as with reason.
He remembered past mercies, and thereby en-
couraged his heart to rest in Him who is ever
the same. " The Lord that delivered me out of
the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the
bear, He will deliver me out of the hand of
this Philistine." His present confidence was the
natural fruit of his past gratitude. It is for our
good that the Lord bids us be mindful of His
Victories in lf)ne
mercies, for whoever forgets former deliverances
thereby deprives his faith of future nourishment.
Those who pass along- the road of life, and
raise no memorials of Divine goodness, wrong
their own souls as certainly as they rob God of
His glory. When the greater trials come it is
impossible for them to sing that triumphant song
of the untroubled spirit
" Each sweet Ebenezer I have in review
Confirms His good pleasure to help me quite through."
Faith always walks with a firmer step when she
leans upon the arm of a vigorous and grateful
memory. If the terror-stricken soul be tempted
to cry out, " Will the Lord cast off for ever ?
Hath He forgotten to be gracious ? " the most
effectual way of chasing away despair and re-
gaining confidence is to adopt the Psalmist's
resolve "I WILL REMEMBER THE WORKS OF THE
LORD : SURELY I WILL REMEMBER THY WONDERS OF
OLD. I WILL MEDITATE ALSO OF ALL THY WORK,
AND TALK OF THY DOINGS."
II.
DIVINE QOODJNE IN HUJVIAN
PROVERBS xviii. 24.
There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother."
DIVINE GOODNESS IN HUMAN FRIENDSHIP.
T^HE question has often been asked : Whether
in these words Solomon was writing- his-
tory or uttering- prophecy ? Was he anticipating
the goodness and grace of Him who in after-ages
should come and display toward men a friendli-
ness more forbearing, patient, unselfish, and en-
during- than the world had ever heard of before ?
or was he referring to some man who had
already lived and adorned our common nature, and
blessed his own circle, with a friendship more
generous and constant than the love of a brother's
heart ? Without denying- the prophetic spirit of
the proverb, we must contend for its historical
26 Divine (poodness in Human friendship.
character, and for the probability that Solomon
was especially referring- to his own father's ex-
perience. Had he not in mind one or more of
those gifted and godly men who at different
times were raised up by the Lord to befriend
His servant David ? The Psalmist received large
mercies, and amongst the greatest of Heaven's
gifts were the men who helped him in difficulty,
defended him in danger, and followed his fortune
through all its changing scenes ; some of whom
stood by him when his own brothers were false
to him; and some of whom were loyal and true
when his own son played the traitor's part.
In giving these friends God fulfilled His pro-
mise, " As thy days so shall thy strength be ; "
for it was David's good lot to have at different
periods of his history friends of different powers
and dispositions, and in each period the friend
possessed just the opportunities and qualities
which made him a gift in season. Jonathan's
position, as heir apparent to the throne, his
popularity with the people, and his great influ-
Bivine goodness in $uman friendship. 27
ence over Saul, combined to make him one of
the most valuable friends that David could have
had in the days of poverty and persecution and
exile. In later years, Nathan's friendship was of
just the character that David most required the
friendship of a wise, far-seeing, and inspired
man, who could give weighty counsel as to the
affairs of the state, and who was too faithful to
allow even a king to go unrebuked for his
wickedness. Nathan might not have been able
to help David much in Saul's court; and it is
quite possible that Jonathan would have shrunk
from the painful duty of piercing David's strangely
callous conscience with the home-thrust, " Thou
art the man." How timely was the friendship
of the King of Moab, whereby David was able
to find shelter for his father and mother in the
land of the stranger, when the fact that they
were his parents made their own country unsafe
for them to dwell in ! * By another also what
seasonable and suitable friendship was displayed
* i Sam. xxii. 3, 4.
28 Divine (poorness in Jftuman ^friendship.
in the effort to restrain David from the foolish
vengeance and guilty violence on which his heart
was set ! And in after years, when Jonathan
was dead, and Nathan's rebukes were not re-
quired, and Absalom's rebellion had put David
in danger of starvation, God sent the friends
who were most required ; for Barzillai, and other
men of wealth, came forth to avow their friend-
ship, and to prove it in a manner appropriate
to the circumstances of the hour. Thus the
Lord was always mindful of His own ; and,
sending His divine bounties by the hands of
human friends, He always made the blessing,
and him that brought it, just such as the exi-
gency of His servant demanded
" Friends in his mirth, friends in hrs misery, too ;
Friends given by God in mercy and in love ;
His counsellors, his comforters, and guides ;
His joy in grief, his second bliss in joy."
The highest place of honour amongst David's
friends must be given to Jonathan, in whom we
have one of the noblest exhibitions of sanctified
Bivine goodness in Human friendship. 29
human nature which the history of the Church
records, and by whom there was set an example
of friendship which for steadfastness and self-
forgetfulness has probably been surpassed only
once, and then by Him who in this, as in every
other grace and glory of character, is fairer than
any of the children of men.
In the account of David's interview with Saul
after his great victory, we are told that "it came
to pass, when he had made an end of speaking,
that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul
of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own
soul." From these words it seems that if Jona-
than had seen David before, when he played the
harp in Saul's presence, it was only a mere glance,
whereby neither the excellencies of one had been
discerned, nor the love of the other enkindled.
But now Jonathan had witnessed the godly and
gallant spirit, the blending of saintly trust and
soldierly courage, with which David had gone out
to meet Goliath; and he had heard him, as he
stood before the king, carrying himself so meekly,
30 Bivine goodness in JjJuman itfijiendship.
and speaking of himself so modestly in the moment
of his triumph. As it was faith in God, and not
conceit of himself, which had impelled David to
enter the lists against the Philistines, so, when
that victory was achieved, the uppermost feeling
in his heart was not pride of self, but gratitude
to God. To cherish thankfulness is a most effec-
tive way of destroying vanity, for a man cannot
easily flatter himself about that which he knows
and feels he owes to the goodness of his God
alone. Jonathan recognised in. David's spirit and
conduct true beauty and nobleness ; and there-
fore, though he was a king's son, and David a
poor shepherd-lad* his heart went out to him,
glowing with an affection which soon reached the
fervour enjoined in the second great c6mmand-
ment, " Thou shall love thy neighbour as thyself."
In its freedom from all jealousy, Jonathan's
conduct was most exemplary. Saul, at first, had
some liking for David, and employed him in
posts of honour ; but the sight of David's growing
popularity effectually chilled the heart of the
Divine (poodness in $uman Ufinendship. 31
king-. As soon as David rose above Saul, and
the people gave him first place in their songs,
jealousy crept into Saul's spirit, and swiftly
changed the shining angel of love into the dark
demon of hatred. It was here that the son
proved himself to be so much more noble than
the father; for Jonathan saw himself surpassed
by David, and yet was his faithful friend, and
indeed found one reason for his love in that
superiority which David had secured. Jonathan
was a soldier as well as David, and had won"
renown on the field before there was any thought
of turning- the shepherd into a warrior. t With
only his armour-bearer to accompany him, he
had gone amongst the Philistines, and by his
cool daring- had struck terror into all their hosts,
and had achieved a victory which made him the
idol of the people the hero of his generation.
How it was that he, who had previously dis-
played such great courage, did not accept the
challenge of Goliath, we cannot tell; but it seems
that, for some reason, though he was counted
32 Divine (poodness in $uman ^friendship.
the first man in the army, he was not equal to
this new duty. He saw David come forward and
do the perilous work ; and he knew that he was
now no longer the greatest soldier in Israel, but
that he must take his place below this shepherd
from the wilderness. To his saintly heart this
was no insuperable difficulty, for he had great-
ness and goodness enough to recognise and
rejoice in the gifts God had granted to another.
As he looked at the victor wearing laurels
which he himself ought to have won, he did not
say, " David has surpassed me ; he has beaten
me in my own special path, and I cannot love
him :" but he said, " God has been good to this
young man, and given him noble qualities, and
I will rejoice in his success. I will be grateful
for his endowments, and love him because of
what the Lord has done for him." We may be
sure that Jonathan remembered who had made
David to differ, and he would say, "It is the
work of infinite wisdom and love, and there is
nothing for me but to be glad and to give
divine (poodness in $uman friendship. 33
thanks." This habit ot seeing- God in everything-,
what power for good it has ! How many vir-
tues it doth nourish, and how many evil things
it can restrain ! How many bad passions are
banished by its influence, like vicious reptiles re-
treating before the light of day !
The friendship of Jonathan was eminently prac-
tical. It did not consist either of fair and flattering
words which he uttered, or of a mere luxury of
sentiment which he enjoyed. On the very first
day of its life it proved its power, by prompting
Jonathan to put his royal robes on David's shoulder,
to gird his sword on David's thigh, and to place his
bow in David's hands ; as much as to say, " I will
give thee of my best. Thou art more of a king's
son than I am. These befit thee more than me."
When Saul's envy enkindled hatred, and hatred
plotted murder, he whispered his foul purpose to
his son and to his servants, and bade them seek for
the opportunity of putting- David to death. It must
have been a sore struggle for Jonathan, filial love
restraining him from any undue exposure of his
D
34 Divine (poodness in Hjjuman ^friendship.
father's wickedness, and faithful friendship impelling
him to warn David of his danger. Having put his
friend out of harm's way, he went into his father's
presence to speak of all the good service David
had rendered; and his words were like a shower
from heaven falling into the fiery soul of Saul, and,
for awhile, subduing the hellish flame which burned
so fiercely there, he persuaded his father to take
an oath that David should be spared ; and, through
his intercession, David had his home in the palace
once more. In after-days, a like spirit was dis-
played when a similar danger arose, and, to save
his friend, Jonathan braved his father's fury and
risked his own life. There are friendships in the
world which cost those who cherish them nothing,
and like many other cheap things, they are worth
just what they cost. The only friendship worth
anything in this world is one that can work as well
as talk ; give as well as weep ; cheerfully sustain
loss as well as pronounce flattering eulogies. The
affection which Jonathan cherished for David proved
to be a costly one, but he grudged not the charges.
Bivine (poodness in JJJuman ^friendship. 35
He acted as if he had anticipated New Testament
teaching-, or as if some angel from heaven had
whispered to his heart the commandment afterwards
addressed to the universal Church " Let us love,
not in word, but in deed and truth."
Jonathan's friendship for David was eminently
unselfish. It was much that he could do for David; it
was but little that David could do for him. Person-
ally, he had no interest in David's continued life and
increasing power; but, speaking after the manner
of men, his interest lay in the opposite direction.
If David were to be king, it would be Jonathan's
throne rather than Saul's that he would take.
Jonathan was the heir to the kingdom, and all the
help he rendered to David was help to the man who
would come between him and his inheritance. This
was the fact Saul used with such power, and sought
to make a firebrand wherewith to set Jonathan's
soul all on flame with jealous hatred. " Thou son
of the perverse rebellious woman," he exclaimed,
" do not I know that thou hast chosen the son of
Jesse to thine own confusion ? for as long as he
D 2
36 Divine (poodness in $uman Friendship.
liveth upon the ground, thou shalt not be established,
nor thy kingdom."* There was force in that appeal
which nothing- but a strong friendship could have
resisted. " What a poor blind fool thou art ! Thou
art defending the life of thy rival, who will live only
to wear the crown that should grace thy head, and
to make thee his vassal. Fetch him . hither, my
son, and let us slay him. It is more for thy sake
than mine that I would destroy him ; for, if he be
spared, thou wilt never be a king like thy father."
With how many this reasoning would have pre-
vailed, and this appeal to selfishness have brought
out all the worst passions of the heart ! The only
power it had over Jonathan was to call forth another
prayer that David's good deeds might be remem-
bered, and that he might be dealt with according to
them. To Saul's selfish heart this nobleness of love
and self- forgetful ness seemed nothing but wilful
wickedness and sheer madness. How could he
comprehend it ? As well might a burrowing mole
attempt to follow the flight of an eagle, or a croak -
* i Sam. xx. 30,^31.
Bivine (goodness in Jjfuman friendship. 37
ing- reptile sit in judgment upon the skylark's song !
Only love can understand love. Hence, " He that
loveth not, knoweth not God, for God is love."
Jonathan's friendship had the crowning grace of
constancy. It began in the midst of David's new-
born popularity, but it lasted through all his reverses.
The time came when David was hated at Court,
when he was reviled by all who wanted to stand
well with the King, and when he was a hunted out-
law at the head of a band of men, many of whom
were far from the best in the land. These circum-
stances must have brought his character under sus-
picion ; and we may be sure that many tongues
were set talking against him : but through it all the
heart of Jonathan was true as the needle to the
pole. The two friends were much separated, and
only once for a long- season did they enjoy an inter-
view ; and then Jonathan spoke with strong confi-
dence and sincere gladness of the certainty of
David's exaltation, and dwelt in glowing- strains
upon the happy future when David should be king,
and he be the prime minister. It was evident that
38 Bivinc (poodness in $uman itfijiendship.
David was losing heart about his own prosperity.
Adversity was so lasting-, and hope was deferred so
long, it is no wonder that his faith became feeble.
The constant friend, who before had defended his
life, now goes forth to deliver him from despondency,
and to bid him rest in the Lord and wait patiently
for Him. At the very time that Saul went search-
ing for David to kill him, Jonathan went in quest of
him that he might speak words of comfort to him,
and keep alive that which was more precious than
all besides his trust in God. "And Jonathan
arose, and went to David into the wood, and
strengthened his hand in God."* Referring to that
visit, " the sweet singer of Israel " might have
made this his song :
" Much beautiful, and excellent, and fair
Was seen beneath the sun ; but nought was seen
More beautiful, or excellent, or fair,
Than face of faithful friend ; fairest when seen
In darkest day : and many sounds were sweet,
Most ravishing, and pleasant to the ear ;
But sweeter none than voice of faithful friend ;
Sweet always, sweetest heard in loudest storm."
* i Sam. xxiii. 16.
iJDivine (poodness in $uman Friendship. 39
Well might David say, " I am distressed for thee,
my brother Jonathan ; very pleasant hast thou been
unto me ; thy love to me was wonderful, passing
the love of women ! "
There is one fact belonging- to this history which
has seldom had the attention it deserves. While
Jonathan was always faithful to David, he was never
false to his father. Some men will cultivate one
virtue alone, and make it an Aaron's rod swallow-
ing up all the other virtues ; but this man did not
suffer his virtues as a friend to devour his virtues as
a son. His position was one of great difficulty, and
it was little less than a miracle of grace that he was
able to keep the true path, when there was so much
to turn him to the right hand or to the left. Here
were his father and his friend, and the former
counted the latter the greatest foe he had, and
fought against him with relentless cruelty ! How
could Jonathan stand between them both, and be to
them what a son and a friend ought to be ? But he
did it ; for he was simple-hearted and pure-minded,
and anxious to do right ; and to the upright there
40 Divine (poodness in $uman ^friendship.
always ariseth light in the darkness. Amid all the
strife and conflict between Saul and David, no one
can point to a single incident and say, " There
Jonathan forgot his friendship for David," or,
" There he broke the first commandment with pro-
mise." He never forsook his father's standard, and
he died at last nobly fighting by his father's side.
He did not say, " It is the purpose of God to bring
David to the throne, and I will go and help him to
get it." Nay ; for he knew that he was to find his
rule of action, not in God's purposes, but in God's
precepts, one of which is, " Honour thy father and
thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land
which the Lord thy God giveth thee." After all,
that death on Gilboa was a fitting finish to his
career ! It was well that he who in life had given
the world its greatest example of faithfulness to
a friend, should in death show to all sons, down to
the end of time, that neither a father's failings, nor
even a father's crimes, must be allowed to quench
filial affection and fidelity. It was a noble thing in
Jonathan, that when sin had come with its desolating
Bivine (fioodness in Bum an Friendship. 41
hand and destroyed all the beauty and glory in his
father's character, he carried himself as one who
would say, " He is my father still ; I will live for
him ; and, if need be, I will die for him."
It needs no word to prove that the friendship we
have been studying- must have been a great help
and blessing to David. How great, is known only
to Him by whom the boon was bestowed. We are
told that at the foot of the Hill of Difficulty, a
fountain is placed by the Lord of the Pilgrims, so
that they may drink and be refreshed before they
begin to climb. That is Bunyan's way of putting-
the fact, that for special circumstances special grace
is given ; and such a fountain at the foot of David's
hill of difficulty was the friendship of Jonathan.
Great trials were before him, and God, who foresaw
them all, granted him this provision against them.
When his character was traduced, how it would
solace him to remember that the second man in
the land in point of worldly position, and the first
man in the land in point of spiritual life, still
believed in him and counted him worthy of all love !
42 Divine (poodness in JjJuman friendship.
When his own heart sunk with fear, there would be
reviving- power in the thought that such a g'odly
man as Jonathan had the utmost confidence that he
would be raised to the throne. We are strangely
constituted, and sometimes other people's faith in
our future welfare serves us to lean upon when we
have none of our own to sustain us. The promises
of God concerning us seem sweeter and purer,
when, instead of being- left to whisper them our-
selves to our troubled spirits, we have some believing
friend to come and quote them to us.
As we contemplate the character of Jonathan, we
are made increasingly thankful that the immortality
of the good is revealed in God's Word beyond the
possibility of doubt or question. , Who would like
to believe that when the body of Jonathan fell in
the field by the sword of the Philistines, there was
an end to all his virtues ? Who could believe that
the great and glorious saintliness which Divine
grace had built up did then and there utterly
perish ? Surely, God our Saviour did not create
such beauty ot holiness only that it might be
(poodness in Jjiuman friendship. 43
speedily annihilated ! Did He not call it into
being- with the purpose of maintaining- it in per-
petual vigour, and investing- it with power of
unlimited progress ? Did He not remove it from
these lower scenes that He might touch it into
a diviner perfection, and have it near Himself
for joy and glory evermore ?
" And, doubtless, unto thee is given
A life that bears immortal fruit,
In such great offices as suit
The full-grown energies of heaven."
Yes ! we are forbidden to think that the love of
Jonathan's heart, which wrought so beneficently
on earth, labours no longer for the welfare of
others. Can it be possible that the God who
created it in His own image doomed it to indo- .
lence ? Would not that be to doom the possessor
of it to misery ? How can those who are gifted
with a divinely generous nature be happy, if no
service of benevolence be assigned to them ? As
none can imagine to what colossal stature the love
of Jonathan has grown in the congenial atmosphere
44 Divine (goodness in Jjluman Friendship.
of heaven, so none can imagine in what gladdening
and glorious ministries it has been employed. It
is as true of the work of eternity as it is of its rest,
" Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have
entered into the heart of man, the things which
God hath prepared for them that love Him." But
this we know, that He who gives His children
the desire to do good to others, can open before
them an infinite variety of ways wherein their
desire may be gratified.
" Nor blame I death, because He bare
The use of virtue out of earth ;
I know transplanted human worth,
Will bloom to profit otherwhere."
III.
VEjXQEA^CE LEfT WITH HIjVl TO
WHOJV1 IT BELOJMQ3.
i SAMUEL xxiv., xxvi.
VENGEANCE LEFT WITH HIM TO WHOM IT
BELONGS,
R attention has been called to the fact
that the first great victory achieved by
David was over his own spirit. He kept himself
meek and gentle when the shamefully unjust in-
sinuations and charges of his brother presented a
strong temptation to be hot in temper and hasty
in speech. . As we pursue his history, we are glad
to find that his first triumph of this noblest kind
was not his last. The grace whereby he achieved
the first abode with him still, and enabled him to
win a yet more glorious victory. In the scenes
brought before us by the two chapters indicated
48 Vengeance &>eft with $im
on p. 45, we see him restraining wrath, and exer-
cising mercy, at a time when the inducements to
taste " the sweetness of revenge '' were many and
powerful. His cruel and implacable foe, who had
come out with three thousand armed men deter-
mined either to take him prisoner or to hunt him
to death, was now entirely in his hands. It was a
golden opportunity, and David made a golden use
of it, for he refused to avenge himself, and suffered
his deadly enemy to depart in peace. Behold the
man after God's own heart ! Let us draw near
and look more closely into this deed of saintly
magnanimity, and. listen to the benediction which
the voice of God pronounces upon it: "Blessed
are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy."
If we would fully appreciate the nobleness of
David's conduct, we must glance at the circum-
stances in which he was placed, and the expe-
riences through which he had recently passed.
For three years he had lived the life of a fugi-
tive, and in many ways and places had sought
to shelter himself against the unrighteous and
to Mhom it Belongs. 49
pitiless wrath of Saul. Once he flew to Ramah,
where Samuel lived, and there, telling- the tale of his
troubles, he received from the aged prophet all the
counsel and sympathy and consolation which his
circumstances demanded, and for which his heart
yearned. In the home and under the protection
of Samuel, he found for a brief season a peaceful
resting--place, but it was not long- before the sleep-
less hostility of Saul drove him out of that sanc-
tuary. Like the mariners, who exclaim, " It is
better to put into any port than be destroyed by
the storm," David next betook himself to a strange
hiding-place. He went out of his own country,
amongst the idolatrous Philistines, whose champion
he had slain, whose pride he had humbled, and
whose power he had broken. The persecutions of
Saul had brought him into such a plight, that he
was safer amongst his " natural enemies " than
amongst his own people ; and it was better for
him to cast himself on the generosity of those who
had many reasons for being hostile to him, than to
brave the anger of the King whom he had faith-
50 Vengeance Left with Him
fully served, and by whom he was hated without
a cause. The security David enjoyed amongst the
Philistines was short-lived, and he soon had to
seek shelter elsewhere. Returning homewards,
the weary wanderer took refuge in the cave of
Adullam, where he was joined by a number of
men, some of whom were of little credit to him,
and the government of whom must often have
been a great trouble to him. The power which
was brought him by the accession of these men,
he speedily used in a most praiseworthy manner.
It appears that the persecutions of Saul were ex-
tended from David to his father and mother, and
hence Judaea was no longer a safe land for Jesse
and his household to dwell in ; and one of the
first purposes to which David put his newly
acquired strength was that of carrying them be-
yond the reach of danger. Guarding them with
the shields and swords of his fugitive warriors,
he took them over the mountains to Mizpeh of
Moab, and said to the King of Moab, " Let my
father and my mother, I pray thee, come forth,
to i^hom it Belongs.
and be with you till- I know what God will do
for me." If one were disposed to paint a series
of pictures illustrative of the fact that David was
a man after God's own heart, he mig-ht wisely
take this scene as one of the subjects of his
illustrations. Was David ever more truly and
more fully the man after God's own heart, than
when he came out of his stronghold, and risked
his own life and liberty, in order to secure the
peace and comfort of his imperilled parents ?
That surely was a deed of filial reverence and
love which went up for a memorial before Him
who made this the first commandment with pro-
mise, " Honour thy father and thy mother : that
thy days may be long- in the land which the
Lord thy God giveth thee."
The anger of Saul still burned against David
as fiercely as ever, and proved its relentless
cruelty by consuming an entire city of conse-
crated men, because one of their number had
given bread to David and his followers, when
he supposed them to be still in the King's ser-
52 "Vengeance Left with $hn
vice. The only respite David enjoyed was, when
the invasion of the country by a foreign foe, or
some other great exigency, made it impossible
for Saul to employ his time and his forces in
hunting down a solitary adversary. Once and
again, Saul was called from his pursuit of David
by some state emergency; but as soon as the
Imperial trouble had passed away, he returned
with the fury of a monomaniac to his wonted
w r ork of worrying the son of Jesse into the
grave. At last he went forth with three thou-
sand picked men, and it must have seemed im-
possible for any earthly power to come Tor a
long season between him and the gratification
of his malice. David and his band went for
safety into a great cavern which stretched so far
into the sides of the mountain that its innermost
recesses were dark as midnight, and vast enough
to hide a thousand warriors in their gloom.* In
* " The wilderness of Engedi is everywhere of limestone
formation, and has its surface broken into conical hills and
ridges, from two hundred to four hundred feet in height. On
all sides the country is full of caverns, which serve as lurking
to SGthom it Belongs. 53
this darkness David and his followers concealed
themselves ; and doubtless they did not venture
to break* the silence by a single word, and were
almost afraid to breathe, lest the slightest noise
should betray them ; for if they had been dis-
covered, their position would have been one of
utter helplessness, as with his superior forces
Saul could have turned their hiding-place into a
prison, and easily starved them to death, or
forced them to surrender. Presently the sultry
hour of noontide came, and the King sought a
shelter from the burning sky, and a place of
quiet for that midday repose which the exhaust-
ing heat of Eastern lands makes so necessary.
Not "as chance would have it," but as the pro-
vidence of God ordained it, he went to enjoy his
siesta in the mouth of the very cavern wherein
David and his men were hidden. We can
scarcely conceive, much less describe, the breath-
less interest, the agony of earnestness, with which
places for outlaws at the present day. Some of these can
easily give shelter to 1,500 men." Kitto.
54 Vengeance Left with $i
they watched and witnessed all that was taking-
place. Looking- from the darkness that made
them invisible toward the daylight, they could
see the King- wrap himself in his robes, and
compose himself to sleep, unconscious of the
dread dang-er that was so close to him. David's
men deemed this to be the favourable opportunity
for him to free himself from all trouble by a
single thrust of his sword, and they vehemently
urged him to avail himself of it. But the Lord
was with him, and filled his heart with mercy
instead of revenge, and held him back from the
violence to which so many things impelled him.
He heard and heeded the voice Divine, " Ven-
geance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord. If
thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give
him drink. Be not overcome of evil, but over-
come evil with good."
This brief review of David's circumstances will
suffice to show that there were many things to
enkindle his resentment and make forbearance
towards Saul a most difficult virtue. Think of
to t$hom it Belongs. 55
what he had lost, and what he had suffered ! He
was young and brave and richly gifted, and emi-
nently fitted for the -highest duties and purest
joys of social life ; but for three years he had
been hunted like a wild beast, as if he were a curse
to the earth, utterly unfit for the haunts of men, and
worthy only of being a target for Saul's archers
to shoot at. Sometimes he had been doomed to
dreary solitude, and at other times he who would
have graced the highest and holiest circles in the
land had been obliged to make himself the bosom-
companion of demoralised debtors and discon-
tented outlaws, many of whom mistook the proper
object of their indignation, and were angry with
society instead of condemning themselves. He
was endowed by nature, and set apart by Provi-
dence, for great service to the state, and, after a
season of useful disciplinary obscurity and lowly
labour, he came forth to publicity and fame. Life
opened out glorioijsly before him. and he had the
fairest prospect of attaining to true greatness by
serving his generation according to the will of
56 Vengeance Left with $im
God. Suddenly his sky was completely overcast,
and the cup of sweet hope was dashed from
his lips; and he who possessed unsurpassed
powers for helping- his country was forced to hide
himself among- its enemies, or make himself the
leader of its outcasts. What had brought all
this to pass ? No court of justice had passed
sentence upon him. No council of the nation had
consigned him to banishment. The people had
not cast him off. The Lord God had not forsaken
him. All this loss and sorrow and evil had come
upon him through the unprovoked anger of one
man's heart, and now that man lay helpless at his
feet. Verily the devil stood on high vantage
ground that day, when he tempted David not to
forgive his enemy, but to slay him in his sleep !
It was not only what Saul's death would deliver
David from, but also what it would introduce him
to, that had to be considered. The consecrating
oil had been poured upon his head, and one
of the greatest of God's prophets had hailed him
as future King of Israel ; and if Saul were out
to '($thow it Belongs. 57
of the way, the chief if not the last barrier be-
tween him and the throne would be gone. It
would be no light thing to exchange the caves
of the mountains for the palaces of Jewry, and the
life of a hunted outlaw for the life of a king
revered and obeyed, and surrounded with all that
power could procure or wealth could purchase.
According to man's code of morals, it would have
been neither murder nor manslaughter, nor any
other crime, to put Saul to death, for he had
declared war against David, and had come out
against him with vastly superior forces. If David
had slain him, and thus have cleared his own way
to the kingdom, how many would have praised the
deed ! The voices that persuaded him to do it
were many and mighty, some of them must have
sounded like angel-voices, and it was almost a
miracle of grace that the one voice of conscience
was strong enough to outcry them all.
The tempter is never so likely to succeed, as
when he transforms himself into an angel of light,
and makes the real sin look so much like a virtue
Vengeance &eftwith $i
that it is difficult to discern the deception. This
he did in David's case, speaking through David's
men, and trying to convince him that the oppor-
tunity to avenge himself was a boon which heaven
had sent him in fulfilment of a promise the Lord
had made to him. " And the men of David said to
him, Behold the day of which the Lord said unto thee,
Behold I will deliver thine enemy into thine hand, that
thou mayest do to him as it shall seem good to thee."
How strangely things combined together to make
the worse appear the better course I The promise
and the providence of God both seemed on the
side of instant and complete vengeance ! But
David was versed in the Law of God ; and in one
of the earlier books of his incomplete, but precious,
priceless Bible, he had read these commandments :
" Thou shalt 'not avenge nor bear any grudge against
the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy
neighbour as thyself: I AM THE LORD." * He knew
that man must shape his course by the precepts
of God, and must never violate any Divine law
* Lev. xix. 18.
to Mhom it Belongs. 59
with the notion that thereby he can bring about
the fulfilment of Divine promises and purposes.
Man's duty ever is, to believe the promises, to obey
the commandments, and to leave the fulfilment of
the promises to Him who has made them, and
who is always strong- enough to keep them, and
too faithful to forget them.
David's generous forbearance touched the heart
of Saul, disarmed him of his rage, melted him
into tears, and constrained him to become a sup-
pliant at the feet of the man for whose blood he
had been thirsting. In Saul's profuse professions
of good-will, David placed as much confidence
as they deserved none at all. David would be
merciful, but that was. no reason why he should
be foolish, and forego all prudence; so, when
Saul went away to his palace, he betook him-
self to his stronghold again. The generous mood
of the King was as brief as the sunshine of a
wintry afternoon, and he soon suffered his wrath
to drive him into renewed hostilities. A second
time he fell into David's hands, and was allowed
6o "Vengeance &eft with JjJim
to escape unhurt. This second display of mag-
nanimity on David's part was a greater triumph
of saintly principle than the first. All the former
reasons in favour of avenging himself still ex-
isted, and in greater force, because of the addi-
tional suffering's he had endured ; and now there
was to be added another reason of almost irre-
sistible power. He had cast his pearl before
swine which had turned again to rend him. His
kindness had been shamefully abused, and evil
had been returned for his good. The King's life,
which he had nobly spared, was consecrated
afresh to the work of securing his destruction.
To spare it a second time was for David to
sharpen the sword by which he himself would
be slain ; and that surely would be charity de-
generating into fanaticism. More than ever the
tempter that spoke in favour of revenge looked
and spoke like an angel of light; but the God
whom David desired to obey gave his servant
strength equal to his day, and once more, though
the forces in favour of evil were a great host,
to Mthom it Belongs. 61
the victory was on the side of godlike forbear-
ance and forgiveness. This lesson the history
teaches most plainly and powerfully, that when
the saint is watchful and prayerful, and enjoys
the Divine succour which watchfulness and prayer
cannot fail to secure, there is no temptation too
strong for him to resist, and there is no diffi-
culty in the practice of holiness too great for
him to surmount. He can do all things through
the Lord who strengtheneth him.
It is evident that David's faith in God was one
of the great roots out of which all these fruits of
forbearance and patience and compassion grew.
He was confident that God would in His own way
and in His own time fulfil the promises which had
been made ; and, therefore, instead of taking the
matter into his own hands, he could rest in the Lord
and wait patiently for Him. What a contrast
between his conduct and that of Rebecca! She
knew that the promise of God was in favour
of her younger son inheriting the place and privi-
leges of the elder, but she could not wait with the
62 Vengeance Left with $im
patience of faith for God to bring- it about in the
right way. She pressed falsehood into her service,
and taught her child to deceive his own father ; and
so mother and son conspired together, and tried to
carry out the purpose of God by the use of arts
learnt from the devil. They did not truly believe,
and therefore they made haste. They broke God's
laws in order to help on the fulfilment of God's
promises, and thereby they mingled for themselves
a great and bitter cup of remorse and anguish, the
drinking of which extended over many years.
David, on the contrary, was determined to do
right and leave results with God, and thereby he
gained the happy experience which enabled him to
say, " In keeping Thy commandments there is
great reward." In due season the promise was
fulfilled, and he had no memories of unbelieving
hastiness and sinful revengefulness on his part to
mar the sweetness of the overflowing joy-cup which
the goodness of the Lord put into his hands. " //
zs good that a man should loth hope and quietly wait
for the salvation of the Lord''
to S&hom it Belongs. 63
They say that " Revenge is sweet." There can
be no doubt of the truth of this, for perverted
natures have perverted tastes, and loathe what they
ought to love, and banquet with delight on what
they ought to abhor. David had feelings in his
heart which would have been intensely gratified
if he had taken vengeance on his enemy; but
would not his revenge have been like the book
the seer did eat in the Apocalypse, sweet in the
mouth, but bitterness in the belly ? If we thought
only of present gratification, we might eschew all
forbearance and mercifulness, and feast our corrupt
tastes with all possible anger and violence against
our adversaries; but if we will think of the
future, and lay up pleasant memories to be enjoyed
in the long hereafter, the less we partake of
"the sweetness of revenge," the better. Patience
and meekness and forgiveness are often very hard
to exercise, but when they become matters of
memory, are they not things of beauty, and a joy
for ever ? The poet tells of one who sat by the
grave of the friend from whom he had parted in
64 Vengeance T^eft with $im
ang-er, and wept at the remembrance of his former
harshness :
" Cruel, cruel the words I said !
Cruelly come they back to-day."
Probably there are men now sleeping- in the
dust who in their lifetime wronged and injured
you. If you forgave them, and prayed for them,
and sought to bless them, does the memory of
that Christlikeness on your part ever give you
a moment's sorrow? The earthly crown that
David gained was torn from his brow long- ages
ago ; but what of his triumph over malice and
wrath and uncharitableness ? Is not the remem-
brance of that a part of the feast of bliss of
which he partakes in paradise ? Does not grati-
tude to God for that enter into the song he is
now singing in heaven ? Yes, revenge may be
sweet, but like all the pleasures of sin, it is but
for a season. Mercy is God's delight. He who
receives it through Jesus, secures his passport to
the skies. He who learns to imitate it, lays up
treasure for himself in heaven. Happy he who
to Mhom it Belongs. 65
by the grace of God so carries himself toward
them that curse him and despitefully use him,
that he does not invoke his own condemnation,
when, in his daily prayer, he cries, " FORGIVE us
OUR TRESPASSES AS WE FORGIVE THEM THAT TRESPASS
AGAINST US."
IV.
THE CHUF(L.
SAMUEL xxv.
NAB/L THE CHUI|L.
T~\AVID never made a wiser choice, and he
^^^ never said a truer thing, than when he
exclaimed, " Let us fall now into the hand of
the Lord, (for His mercies are great,) and let me
not fall into the hand of man." The wisdom
and the truth of this were confirmed by more than
one incident in David's life, and sometimes the
proof was found in his own conduct. As the
deeds of others often made him feel, so his pur-
poses and actions must have occasionally made
others feel, how much better it was to be cast
upon the mercies of God, than to be left to the
generosity and forbearance of men. The history
yo 19abal the
of David's collision with Nabal furnishes us with
a twofold confirmation of the truth of David's
assertion and the wisdom of his decision. David,
in a season of feebleness, sought to rest himself
upon Nabal's gratitude, and he found that he was
trusting- in the staff of a broken reed which pierced
him. In his necessity he made an appeal to
Nabal's g-enerosity, and he found it was as vain
as trying to quench his thirst with the waters of
Marah. On the other hand, Nabal's ingratitude
and unkindness met with no charity at first on
the part of David. While Nabal was utterly
destitute of brotherly kindness, David failed for
a time in the love which is not easily provoked.
Because Nabal was insolent as well as thankless,
David was carried away by a revengeful spirit,
and gathered up all his strength to punish the
insult and the wrong with instant death. As David
saw his men returning from Nabal empty-handed,
and bearing on their lips the cruel answer of the
churl, and as Nabal saw David coming with
armed men bent on taking vengeance, might
the <hurl. 71
not each of them appropriately cry out, " Let me
not fall into the hand of man ? " As we mark
the selfish spirit of the wealthy man, and the
unforgiving spirit of the wronged man, are we
not constrained to exclaim with fresh fervour,
" Whether it be for the relief of our necessities,
or for the pardon of our transgressions, let us
fall now into the hand of the Lord, for His
mercies are great " ?
The brief account which is given of Nabal's
ancestry, and prosperity, and domestic circum-
stances, prepares us for a description of his cha-
racter very different from that which the truthful
historian supplies. Everything around him was
calculated to make him a happy, thankful, sweet-
tempered, and kind-hearted man. He had good
blood in his veins ; and by the memories of his
noble and godly ancestor he ought to have been
restrained from all that was mean and graceless.
He was a descendant of Caleb, the man who stood
firm in his faith and obedience at a time when,
with one other exception, all the people fell away
72 T3abal the (hurl.
from their confidence in God and their consecration
to His service. He inherited the fruit of the
industry and piety of those who had gone before
him, and he was unquestionably richer in worldly
goods, because he succeeded to devout and dili-
gent men whom the Lord God of Israel had
blessed in their labours. The inspired writer
alludes to his ancestry as if that increased the guilt
of his conduct. "He was of the house of Caleb;"
but he was a bad branch growing out of a good
stock, for "he was -churlish and evil in his doings."
Alas! he was neither the first nor the last of those
who have come into possession of many of the
temporal results of their fathers' piety, but have
shamefully repudiated the godliness which brought
the golden harvest. They have stood on high
vantage ground because they were the sons of
" parents passed into the skies," and yet they have
scorned and spurned the very religion to which
alone their social elevation was owing. Men are
often heard to speak of the " good family " to which
they belong, as if that justified pride and exclusive-
IQabal the <hurl. 73
ness. The Bible puts it in a different way, and
makes the nobleness of a man's ancestry one more
reason why he should serve the Lord and cleave
to Him with full purpose of heart. The prophet
Jeremiah went with words of sharp rebuke and
heavy condemnation to one who was proving
himself a degenerate son of a godly sire, " Did not
thy father eat and drink, and do judgment and
justice, and then it was well with him? He
judged the cause of the poor and needy; then
it was well with him : was not this to know me ?
saith the Lord. But thine eyes and thine heart
are not but for thy covetousness, and for oppres-
sion, and for violence, to do it."
Nabal had what many would deem a far more
substantial reason for personal goodness than the
fact that he belonged to the house of Caleb.
The wealth which had come down to him had
evidently been increased by the Divine blessing
on his own endeavours, and he stood forth con-
spicuous above all his neighbours for the splen-
dour and luxury with which he could surround
74 ttabal the (hurl.
himself. " The man was very great," but his
prosperity hardened his heart and filled his spirit
with haughtiness. It seemed as if the more he
got, the more he would spend upon himself, and
the less he would be moved with generous sym-
pathy toward those who were in woe or want.
Apart from experience, we should deem it im-
possible that with expanding resources men could
become more contracted in liberality ; and yet how
many have associated a diminished benevolence
with doubled or trebled incomes; yea, have given
less cheerfully when their power to give was
fourfold greater than it had been aforetime. The
widow who had less than a pauper's purse, and
more than a princely generosity, might, apart
from the grace of God, have become compara-
tively close-handed if she had passed into easy
circumstances. Changes scarcely less striking
have taken place, for we have seen prosperous
men display a lack of liberality, the prediction
of which, in the days of their poverty, would
have extorted the indignant question, "Is thy
the Churl. 75
servant a dog- that he should do this thing ? "
For the pride and selfishness which prosperity
has such power to produce in human hearts,
there is one effective preventive or cure a con-
stant and grateful remembrance of the fact that
to God and His goodness all is owing. Nebu-
chadnezzar looked at the city of palaces in which
he reigned, and he cried out, " Is not this great
Babylon which I have built ? " Then sprang up
the pride for which he was so severely punished.
Jacob marshalled his flocks and herds and house-
hold, and so had all his wealth in sight at one
time ; but instead of saying, " See what I have
gained," he said in spirit, " Behold what God has
given me." Then, instead of making him hard-
hearted and highminded, his prosperity melted
him into tenderness and humbled him to the dust,
where he cried, " I am not worthy of the least
of all Thy mercies." The arrogance of spirit,
and coarseness of speech, and niggardliness of
heart, which Nabal displayed, were unmistakeable
proofs that in his prosperity he had forgotten the
76 lOabal the (hurl.
God to whom he was indebted for it. Hence
that which should have made his lowliness to grow
and blossom like a lily of the valley, did only
serve to make his poisonous pride flourish, like
the deadly nightshade, and that which should
have filled him with grateful love to God and
generous love to men, only helped to increase
his self-indulgence and his self-idolatry.
There was another reason why better things
might have been reasonably expected of Nabal.
God had given him a true help-meet a woman
who, if he had yielded to her influence, would
have done much to lift him out of his roughness
and wickedness into refinement and godliness.
" She was a woman of good understanding and
of a beautiful countenance." The companion-
ship of such a one ought to have had some
humanising influence upon Nabal, and have saved
him at least from the lower depths of folly and
brutishness into which he sank. It is one of the
marvels of human nature, that some rough and
selfish men can live for year after year in fellow-
"$abal the <?hurl. 77
ship with gentle and self-denying- women, and
yet be no more impressed and improved by them
than the dead heart of Absalom was moved by
the tears and wailings of his disconsolate father.
You may see a living- man living- for years with
a meek, patient, long-suffering- wife, whose love
for him nothing can quench, whose devotion to
him nothing can impair, and all the while he
sinks deeper and deeper into his selfishness and
sottishness. There is many a Nabal whose
churlishness and godlessness are all the more
guilty in the sight of heaven, because of the
saintliness of the woman to whom in God's good
providence he has been wedded. If such men
die impenitent and unpardoned, surely for them
condemnation will be heavy and perdition will
be deep !
It is time to pass on to the particular circum-
stances which brought out so fully the worst
features in Nabal's character, and aroused so fear-
fully the resentment of David. Nabal had enough
and to spare, while David was in temporary
7 8 labal the $hurl.
poverty. David was in danger of perishing for
lack of a little of that of which Nabal had such
an abundance, and therefore the appeal for relief
was sent. David seems to have known the kind
of man he had to deal with, for he blended
prudence with his boldness in begging, and pressed
his suit on that day on which above all others it
was least likely to fail. Amongst different nations
there are different seasons which are specially
sacred to hospitality and to generosity. With us
in England Christmas has become such a season.
Hearts that are flinty at other times are touched
into a little feeling then, and fruits of kindness
and goodwill are gathered from branches that are
barren all the year beside. There are some men
whom you would not care to ask for charity at
any other season, to whom you would venture to
make an appeal if you met them just as Christmas
bells were ringing. Amongst the Jews, and other
Eastern peoples, the time of sheep-shearing was
commonly the season of special liberality; hence,
when " David heard in the wilderness that Nabal
l^abal the (fniurl. 79
did shear his sheep," he sent out ten young men
to greet him, to express good wishes on his
behalf, and to humbly plead for a share of the
bounty which it was thought Nabal would be sure
to bestow on such an occasion. Beside the force
of good old customs, there was another reason
why on that particular day David's solicitation was
seasonable. It was partly on the ground that his
men had been guardians of the flocks that David
rested his appeal, and there could not be a better
time for that appeal than the season when the
flocks were counted and the fleeces were gathered.
In order to move Nabal, the messengers were
charged to make mention of the timeliness of
their visit : " Thus shall ye say to him that liveth
in prosperity, Let the young, men find favour in
thine eyes, for we come in a good day."
Many have thought that the prudence and policy
of David's conduct were more obvious than its
dignity. Did he not in some measure demean
himself, they ask, by setting forth so fully the
services he had rendered ? It is not usual, they
8o labal the <hui|l.
say, to do a man a good turn, and then to go
and tell him all about it, and ask for some grateful
recognition of it. Before we blame David for
being undignified, let us try to realize his position
and his temptations. He must have been in great
straits, or he would never have sent in such a way
to a man like Nabal. Hunger is a sharp thorn,
and impels many a man to do what is far easier
for well-fed people to blame than for him to avoid.
We are often angry with some of the poor for
being mean-spirited and deficient in frankness
and straightforwardness. Instead of spending
our breath in censuring them, it would sometimes
be much better to spend it in thanksgiving that
we have not known the special temptations of
poverty, and have been placed by a benignant
Providence in circumstances wherein it is a com-
paratively easy thing to maintain " our dignity and
independence."
There are people whom you cannot fully know
until you ask them for something. While no
direct appeal is made to their supposed benevo-
the (Bhurl 81
lence, their real character is masked ; but the
moment you press them to be generous, despite
all their efforts to wear it still, the covering- drops
off, and they stand forth in all their native unsight-
liness. To what a revelation of Nabal's heart the
prayer of David led ! How thoroughly the churl
disclosed himself, and showed that by the hands
of sin the last lingering trace of the image of
God's love had been swept from his soul ! And
yet he tried to cloak his selfishness and justify
his meanness by blackening David's character.
" Who is David ? Who is the son of Jesse ?
There be many servants now-a-days that break
away every man from his master; shall I then
take my bread and my water, and my flesh that
I have killed for my shearers, and give it unto
men whom I know not whence they be?" Nabal
could not say it was the wrong day for charity,
so he said this was a wrong case. Such people
are never destitute of reasons for not giving, and
are not ashamed to try and cover their niggard-
liness with excuses so flimsy that even the sight
G
82 labal the <hurl.
of a bat would be strong enough to pierce them.
To spare their purse they can always find some
flaw in the " case," or, failing that, some fault
in the applicants who represent the "case," or
something unseasonable in the time of making
the application. There never yet was an appeal to
human kindness which Nabal would not have had
some reason for resisting. If he had been placed
in circumstances like Abraham, and angels had
come to partake of his hospitality, he would pro-
bably have cried out, " Give my bread and flesh to
people with wings ! What next, I wonder ! "
The provocation to David must have been great,
and we are more grieved than surprised that at
once his soul was all on fire with wrath, and he
took a solemn oath to destroy Nabal and his men
too before the next morning should dawn. David
forgot how much God had done for Nabal, what
ingratitude God had received at Nabal's hand,
and yet how patiently God had borne with him
for many years, and how lavishly God had blessed
him despite all his guiltiness. We might have
the <?hurl. 83
hoped that, instead of fostering human vengeance,
David would have striven to imitate Divine long-
suffering"; but the wisest men are not always wise,
and the best men are not always consistent.
"Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth,
take heed lest he fall." David's lapse was not
long lasting; for before he could carry out his
angry purpose, his spirit was calmed and his foot-
steps were checked, and he put his cause into infi-
nitely better keeping than his own. Blessed by
God with preventing grace, he acted according to
the counsel of his own song : " Fret not thyself
because of evil doers. Rest in the Lord and wait
patiently for Him."
The history shows, what is very credible,
that Nabal was a great coward as well as a
coarse blusterer. When he heard of David's in-
dignation, " his heart died within him, and he
became as a stone." It would seem as if the
weight of his own craven fears helped to sink
him into the grave. Possibly his own cowardice
was the instrument with which the Lord smote
G 2
84 19abal the (hurl.
him; and the terrors of his guilty spirit were
the disease of which he died. This much is
certain, he perished for his sins. There is no
hint that he was indolent or dishonest, and that
his wealth had been gained by fraud and false-
hood. The head and front of his offending were
not seen in the way in which he had secured
his prosperity, but in the spirit in which he re-
ceived and used it. The very day wherein he
refused relief to those who had befriended him,
" he held a feast in his house like the feast of
a king." He had an abundance of this world's
goods, and he saw his brother have need, and
he shut up his bowels of compassion against
him. He is not accused of heresy or idolatry,
Sabbath-breaking or blasphemy. He was utterly
wanting in meekness and gentleness, courtesy
and kindness. He would indulge himself even
to gluttony and drunkenness, and yet refused
his bread to those who were ready to perish;
therefore the anger of the Lord waxed great
against him, and swept him into an untimely
the f hurl. 85
grave. His name has become imperishable by
being written in the book which is to be trans-
lated into every tongue and read in every land;
but the immortality which Scripture has given
him is an immortality of infamy. He has been
lifted out of obscurity by the hand of Inspiration ;
but the elevation given to him is that of the
scaffold and the gibbet, on which he is exhibited
as a warning to all mankind against those sins
of brutish selfishness which are infinitely ob-
noxious to our Father in heaven, who delighteth
in mercy.
V.
DIVIJME CORRECTION OF A
PF(OPHET'3 JVU3TAKE, ^D DIVIJME
DENIAL OF yV KljMQ'3
2 SAMUEL vii.
DIVINE CORRECTION OF A PROPHET'S
MISTAKE, AND DIVINE DENIAL OF
A KING'S DESIRE,
" T") EMARKABLE answers to prayer " have
*\ furnished many with a most encouraging
theme. Innumerable instances have been cited
wherein blessings, which only the strongest faith
would be bold enough to seek, have been secured.
Volumes of almost incredible facts have been com-
piled to show the merciful and marvellous ways
in which human desires breathed in supplication are
changed into Divine decrees. In many cases it has
been proved that while yet the suppliant was on
his knees, the Almighty word must have gone
forth, "According to thy prayers, so be it unto
go Bivine (Correction of a prophet's
thee." Delayed answers to prayer have not been
dealt with so fully and frequently, for they do not
constitute a subject so pleasant to our fretful and
hurrying- nature. They might, however, be oftener
discoursed upon with advantage to those (there
name is legion) who have not yet learnt how wise
it is to "rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for
Him." God's denials of mans requests are still less
frequently the theme of sermon and treatise. They
have an appearance of contradicting the promises,
and proving that prayer is in vain ; and, therefore,
perhaps, they are often excluded from purely
human histories. With its usual fearlessness and
fidelity the Bible records them, and thereby helps
us to realise that it cannot always be according to
our minds. Apparently sanctified human wills
have had to be thwarted by the Divine will ; and
to what looked like wise and lawful petitions,
the answer of Heaven has been an emphatic
negative. Moses was mighty in supplication, and
more than once his intercession came between the
Jewish people and their merited destruction ; but
and Bivine Benial of a King's desire. 91
his own death in the wilderness was in perfect
opposition to his own ardent desires expressed in
prayer and enforced by tears. The Apostle Paul
had to tell of a thrice-repeated application which
met with a thrice-repeated denial. David never
prayed more fervently than when he prayed
for the life of his child, but he prayed in vain. To
human judgment nothing" could be more laudable
and consistent than his desire to crown the labours
of his life by building- a temple for the praise and
glory of God ; and yet, though the king after
God's own heart cherished the purpose, and the
prophet of the Lord instantly and heartily ap-
proved of it, the Divine will was against it, and it
had to be relinquished. It might be more pleasant
to study the instances in which, through the good-
ness of God, the desires of David's heart were
granted, and his hopes were realised ; but it ought
to be as profitable to look occasionally at the other
side of his experience. God's thoughts are not
always our thoughts ; and when they differ, ours
must give way, and His must prevail. The history
ga Bivinc Correction of a prophet's $)jstahe,
now before us shows us that one of God's most
faithful and favoured servants had personal
experience of this necessity. As we behold
David's submission to denial and disappointment,
our own ought to become more contented and
cheerful.
It is pleasant to glance at the circumstances
which gave birth to David's desire to build the
Temple. The regal position into which he passed
on the death of Saul was no bed of roses. The
land was still overrun by the Philistines, who held
many of its strongest fortresses. Jerusalem was
in the hands of the Jebusites ; the people had been
crushed by bondage, and impoverished by repeated
invasions; the surviving members of the house
of Saul, with their partisans, resisted David's
claims; and the entire kingdom was in a state
of ruin and chaos, which, to the most sanguine,
must have made the thought of order and pros-
perity a forlorn hope. There was hard and long-
lasting work to be done, but David gave himself
to it with full purpose of heart ; and his God who
and Divine Denial of a King's UDesire. 93
had called him to it did not suffer him to labour
in vain. Victory after victory crowned his arduous
struggles, until, at last, the Philistines were for
ever banished; the Land of Promise was fully
possessed by the Israelites ; and David's unresisted
rule extended over all the twelve tribes. It was
a happy time for the King- and his people. Those
who for years had been forced to struggle for
life and liberty could now let the sword rest in
its scabbard ; instead of the spear they could use
the ploughshare, and till the long-neglected fields,
and grow the golden harvest, without any fear
that ruthless invaders would trample it into the
dust or carry it away as spoil. Peace had come
into the land, and prosperity was in her train.
" THE KING SAT IN HIS HOUSE, AND THE LORD HAD
GIVEN HIM REST ROUND ABOUT FROM ALL HIS ENEMIES."
We can scarcely enter into the joy which all
this created, and the thankfulness it inspired; not
because we know nothing of such circumstances,
but because we have always lived in them. Those
who have never mourned on account of the deep
94 tDivine Correction of a prophet's fftistahe,
darkness of midnight, cannot appreciate the beauty
of the dawn and the splendours of the noon
like men who through long hours of thick gloom
have watched and waited for the morning. How
can we estimate the blessedness of peace and
security, as it was estimated by the Hebrews after
nearly a life-time of constant disquiet and bloody
strife, and well-grounded dread of national anni-
hilation and of individual slavery or death ? The
sight of his own and his people's prosperity and
freedom touched the spirit of David with mighty
power, and made it to glow with unwonted grati-
tude ; and he longed to do some great thing to
show the love of which his heart was so full :
" What shall I render unto the Lord for all His
benefits toward me ? "
It may be asked, If David were so joyous and
thankful, could he not have taken his harp of
sweet and solemn sound, and have expressed his
new-born praise in some new-born psalm ? Doubt-
less he did this, but it was not enough to satisfy
his gratitude. The truly thankful heart is glad to
and Biuine 'Benial of a King's Desire. 95
put on its singing robes, and lift its exultant strains
to heaven ; but it cannot be contented with words
and music alone, even though another David
should pen the hymn, and an -inspired Handel
should compose the melody. It will want to
express its emotion in works, to put on the garb
of a willing servant, . and, in addition to saying
great things about God, to do right and good
and noble things for God. In the matter of word-
praise, David possessed a power and reached a
position absolutely unrivalled ; but, perfect as he
could make the service of song, that did not suffice
for him when God was crowning his life with
such loving-kindness and tender mercies. Let us
be assured that if ' we know and believe the love
that God hath to us," if His love have enkindled
ours, we too shall be eager to embody our living
thankfulness in deeds of truth, and kindness, and
purity. The praise that expresses itself in action
is not only the most acceptable to God, it is also
the only praise which can give relief to the spirit
burdened with a sense of what it owes to Him,
96 Bivine (Correction of a prophet's $Hstahe T
whose mercy is like Himself without beginning
of days or end of years.
The ark of the covenant was still kept in the
tabernacle a structure which had been intended
for the sacred services of the tribes in the days
of their pilgrimage only. The King felt that
while it might have been pardonable to retain
this temporary house of prayer during the time
the people were in an unsettled political and
social condition, it would not be seemly to con-
tinue it when their own dwellings were of a
more costly and durable character, and their full
and peaceful establishment in the Promised Land
was through the goodness of their God accom-
plished. He, therefore, formed the purpose of
building an enduring temple in the place of the
frail tent, hoping that he might thereby appro-
priately show his own thankfulness, and make
the provision for the national worship to be more
in accordance with the national prosperity. David
knew by experience that acceptable worship could
be rendered apart from all costly or consecrated
and Divine Denial of a King's desire. 97
structures, for he had himself sung- God's praises
and secured His blessing in wilderness places,
and in dens and caves of the earth. What was
afterwards said of his Son and Lord could have
been said of him also
" Cold mountains and the midnight air
Witnessed the fervour of His prayer."
At the same time he had a conscientious convic-
tion that the externals of a people's worship ought
to be in keeping- with the externals of their secular
life. It shocked his sense of consistency when he
realised the fact that he dwelt in a house of cedar,
while the ark of God dwelt in curtains. The prin-
ciple which David recognised was one which in
after-days the prophets enforced upon the people
by Divine command " Is it time for you, O ye,
to dwell in your ceiled houses, and this house lie
waste ? " Spirituality of worship is the great
essential, and God can be served acceptably in
the meanest structure; but it would not look well
for people to live in palaces and worship in barns.
There would be at least an appearance of evil,
H
98 Bivine (Correction of a prophet's $Hstafce,
if nothing- but poor and shabby sanctuaries could
be found in the streets wherein the bank and the
exchange, and even the warehouses, are massive
and costly buildings. A stranger would suppose
that he had come amongst a people who were
starving- their religion, while they were pamper-
ing everything- else belonging- to them.
We must turn from the origin and nature of
David's purpose to Nathan's mistaken sanction
of it. A sympathetic heart is a great quickener
of the brain. If your spirit be in unison with
that of another man, how readily you and he can
understand each other. Half words are enough,
and either of you can fully discern the other's
desire or purpose long before his language has
fully disclosed it. . It is this law of our nature
which makes it so much easier for a man to find
out the Divine will when his heart is brought
into living- sympathy with God. Then his faculty
of discernment is so perfect, that to him God
can say, " I will guide thee with Mine eye." Be-
tween Nathan and David there was this sym-
and divine $)enial of a Ring's desire. 99
pathy, so that the latter had scarcely begun to
speak about his purpose before the former divined
all that he intended. " The King- said to the pro-
phet, See now, I dwell in a house of cedar, but
the ark of God dwelleth within curtains. And
the prophet said to the King, Go, do all that is
in thine heart : for the Lord is with jhee." The
thing seemed so obviously right and good to
Nathan, that he did not wait to give it further
consideration ; and instead of saying, " I will pray
about it, and seek to learn the will of God con-
cerning it," he ventured at once to promise Divine
approval and blessing of it. He thought he had
" the mind of the Spirit," and mistook the prompt-
ings of his own heart for a voice from heaven.
Here is a most instructive case of the fallibility
of an always good and ofttimes inspired man !
It is frequently difficult to distinguish between the
inclinations of our own wills and fhe guidance of
God's hand. It is so easy to mistake the bent
of our own desires for the intimations of Provi-
dence ; and when our own hearts are in favour
H 2
ioo Divine (Correction of a prophet's $istahe.
of a thing it requires little argument to convince
us that God is in favour of it too. No matter
how wise or right any course may appear to be,
if we would be always safe' we must always dis-
trust our own unaided judgments, and cherish the
dependent and teachable spirit which cries, " Lord,
what wilt Thou have me to do ? "
Nathan went home to his evening prayer, and
his nightly rest, and was speedily made aware
of his error. "// came to pass that night, that the
Word of the Lord came unto Nathan, saying, Go
and tell my servant David, Thus saith the Lord,
Thou shall not build Me a h'ouse for Me to dwell in."
In after-days, Nathan was sent of God to rebuke
David for his sin ; and he went to the offending
monarch with a holy courage and fidelity which
did him honour. Now he was sent on what
was a .very different, and in some respects a
more difficult errand; not to chide David -for a
fault, but to recall his own words, and to con-
fess that he had spoken as in God's name, when
he had not God's authority for what he said.
and Divine denial of a King's Besire. 101
Many have written in glorious strains of Nathan's
rebuke of David. His wisdom was as great as
his fearlessness. What point and power in the
parable whereby he got the royal sinner to un-
wittingly sit in judgment on himself! What noble
forgetfulness of everything but his duty in that
home-thrust, " Thou art the man ! " How it
pierced the callousness of David's spirit, awoke
his sleeping conscience, and made his hitherto
impenitent heart to bleed with a godly anguish!
Still, one has often ' thought, that if he had the
artistic skill to paint a gallery of Scripture por-
traits, and if he were to delineate that one scene
in each man's life in which he most displayed
the beauty and glory of his saintliness, he would
depict Nathan in the presence of the King, not
when he said to David, "Thou hast sinned," but
when he said, " I spoke in haste yesterday ; I
had no warrant for saying that the Lord would
be with thee in this purpose. He has shown
me my mistake, and I am come to confess and
to correct it." Who does not know that to take
Bivine Correction of a prophet's
even a mote out of his own eye is a greater
proof of saintly skill than to help to take a
beam out of another's eye ? Are not the words,
"I was wrong-," three of the hardest in the lan-
guage for any one to utter ?
Most of us might live for centuries, and never
have an opportunity of imitating the fearlessness
of Nathan in telling a king of his sins. None
of us can live for many years, without having
frequent opportunities of imitating Nathan in
the frankness with which he acknowledged his
error and his fault as soon as he was made
conscious of them. " Confess your faults one to
another," is a Divine injunction, and it would not
be easy to exaggerate the mischief which arises
from our disobedience to it. Hearts that once
seemed inseparably bound together are estranged
and made the seat of dislike ; men who once
helped each other, now stand aloof in mutual
coldness and hurtfulness ; families are rent asunder,
and churches are enfeebled, because those who
have been foolish or faulty have not the manli-
and Biuine Benial of a King's Desire. 103
ness to avow it, and to seek the forgiveness
which confession is so certain to secure. In
both secular and spiritual communities, uncon-
fessed faults are like thorns which are left in
the flesh; they have pierced till the wound festers,
and the blood becomes feverish, and foul disease
threatens to spread over the whole body. All
honour to the man who, when he has blundered
or sinned, will honestly acknowledge it with be-
coming- sorrow ! The curse of the offender may
have rested on him for a while, but the blessing
of the peacemaker shall be finally his. God be
praised for the grace of confession which He
gives to His guilty children ! It is the sign of
returning wisdom. It is the precursor of pardon,
and the pledge of reformation. It is often the
dawn of an everlasting day.
We have now to look at the denial of David's
desire, and at the facts and promises which were
set before him to reconcile him to his disappoint-
ment. There was neither disdain of his gratitude
nor condemnation of his idea that the prospered
104 Divine Correction of a prophet's $).istahe,
nation ought to have a better house for holy
service. The Lord in His great kindness was
careful so to convey the denial that it could not
possibly impair David's faith in the Divine love,
nor excite his hostility to the Divine plan. He
testified that Gad's gentleness had made him
great. Of that gentleness he seldom had richer
experience than on this occasion. The Lord
might have set forth His sovereignty, and have
said, "It is My will that you should not do this
work. To My decision you must submit without
any explanations on My part, and without any
questioning on yours. Have I not a right to do
as I please, without trying to justify My ways to
any of My servants ? " Not as a king with his
servants, but as a father with his children, the
God of David acted. Never did a compassionate
father display a deeper anxiety to retain his
child's confidence, and comfort his child's heart,
while for wise reasons he was compelled to
thwart his child's purpose ! The faith of His
children in His wisdom and love, and their
and Divine Denial of a Ring's Desire. 105
cheerful submission to His will, are pleasant
thing's in the sight of the Lord ; and therefore
He does not simply command and forbid, but
He reasons with us and explains to us, and is
far more anxious to prove His kindness than to
assert His authority. Lord, what is man's con-
fidence in Thee, that Thou shouldst take such
pains to secure it ? Thou hast magnified him,
and set Thine heart upon him !
The first words in the message were calculated
to pacify David's conscience, which had been
troubled about the poverty of the place wherein
God was worshipped. He was reminded that
the matter which had distressed him had called
forth no complaint from the Lord. " Wfiereas I
have not divelt in any house since the time that 1
brought up the children of Israel out of Egypt,
even to this day, but have walked in a tent and in
a tabernacle. In all the places wherein I have
walked with all the children of Israel, spake I a
word with any of the tribes of Israel saying, Why
build ye not Me an house of Cedar ? " For four
106 JHvine (Correction of a prophet's $}i
hundred years the people had been in Canaan,
and during those centuries the tabernacle had
been the only house of God in the land. But
He had never once chided any of the rulers of
the nation for this. Was that long silence a
sign of His indifference as to the way in which
the people worshipped Him ? There are facts
which forbid us to put this interpretation upon
it. Was it not rather a sign of His forbearance,
and of His consideration of the people's circum-
stances? He knew their troubled state, the peril
they were in because of their implacable enemies,
and what hard work it was for them to hold the
land and maintain their own freedom ! It was true
that their sins had been the great source of their
difficulties, but still the Lord did not forget those
difficulties; and when His people were struggling
with them, He was neither rigorous in His de-
mands, nor severe in His judgments. He pitied
where He might have chided, and maintained a
charitable silence when He might have uttered
righteous and indignant complaints. Some one
and JHvine Jlcnial of a King's JJesirc. 107
may ask, "What had this past forbearance to-
ward those who had not built a better sanctuary,
to do with the present denial of him who wished
to raise a fitting house for the Lord ? " It showed
that in relation to this matter of tabernacle and
temple, the course pursued by God for many
generations had been one of gentleness and grace.
Would not that help David to believe that God's
present and future course, in relation to the same
matter, would be marked by the same character-
istics ? Whatever testified to the Lord's kindness
would promote David's hearty acquiescence in His
dealings. Single events in the providence of God
must not be isolated and then judged. They
must be looked at in the light of what (without
irreverence) we may call the established cha-
racter of Him who worketh all things according
to the counsel of His will.
Having referred to the forbearance which others
had met with, the Divine message proceeds to
speak of what had been done for David. "Now
therefore so shall thou say unto My servant David,
io8 JHvine Correction of a prophet's ($istahe,
Thus saith the Lord of hosts, I took thee from the
sheepcote, from following the sheep, to be ruler over
My people, over Israel : And I was with thee whither-
soever thou wentest, and have cut off all thine enemies
out of thy sight, and have made thee a great name,
like unto the name of the great men that are in the
earth" The Lord spake as if He feared that
by thwarting David's purpose He might expose
His love to unjust suspicion; and therefore He
was careful to show that He had already done
so much for His servant, that, whatever course He
might see it best to pursue, His love ought not
to be suspected for a moment. Surely He had
placed that beyond the shadow of a doubt ! " I
am about to say thee nay," He said, "but let
not My refusal provoke thy mistrust. When thou
art thinking of what I deny thee, think also of
what I have given thee. I found thee in obscu-
rity, and I have lifted thee to fame. I found
thee in the sheepfold, and I have lifted thee to
the throne. I found thee in peril and in poverty
and in shame, and I have placed thee in safety; I
and JHvine Denial of a King's Desire. 109
have surrounded thee with wealth, I have enshrined
thee in glory. In a thousand ways I have proved
to thee that I have loved thee with an unfailing-
love. However much of supposed good I may
withhold from thee, however much of real dis-
appointment I may lay upon thee, no misgiving
as to my love should trouble thee and dishonour
Me. After such an experience as thou hast had,
thou oughtest to be able to say in all things,
' It is the Lord ! He cannot be unkind to me !
It is the same loving-kindness always, though
sometimes it forbids my desire and rejects my
supplication.' " The way in which David's doubts
were prevented is the way in which ours must
be checked and cured. If God's nay to our
requests should tempt us to distrust His love, we
must meet the temptation with memories of the
many times and the manifold ways wherein He
has heard our prayer and enriched us with His
blessing. Discontented brooding over the few
and the little things denied, must be supplanted
by grateful meditation on the many and great
no Divine (Correction of a prophet's $}istahe,
things bestowed. We must not be beguiled by
that craft of the wicked one which seduced the
mother of us all into dissatisfaction and disobe-
dience. If the tempter begin to talk to us about
the one tree whose fruit we must not gather,
be it ours to speak instantly about the thousand
trees of whose fruit we may freely eat. If the
Lord were to speak of all that He has done
for us and given to us, He might tell a more
wondrous story of His love than that in which
the elevation and enthronement of David were
described. He that spared not His own Son,
but delivered Him up for us all, how can He
fail in kindness to us ? If He were to reject
our petitions and thwart our desires a thousand
times, our faith, sustained by experience, ought
to rise above all denial and disappointment.
After what we have seen of His grace in the
Gospel, it is reason, as well as faith, for each
one of us to say, " Though He slay me, yet
will I trust in Him."
There is great significance in the fact that in
and Divine Denial of a King's Desire. in
refusing David the coveted honour of building
the temple, the Lord reminded him of the glory
as well as the mercy already bestowed upon him :
' / have made thee a great name, like unto the names
of the great ones that are in the earth" Was it
not telling David that the fame he had secured
was enough for any one man's lawful ambition ?
To him had been given the honour of rising to
regal dignity, of delivering the nation from the
danger and degradation which had lasted for
generations, of reducing a chaotic kingdom to
order, and of producing prosperity unheard of
before. Why should he want to add to that the
glory of being the greatest temple-builder the
world had seen ? He must not aspire to that
crown too. God would reserve it for another ;
for it is not His pleasure that all the brilliancy
of great achievements shall belong to only one
name, and that all the joy of great successes
shall flood only one heart. Excepting the king-
dom of God's grace, there are to be no more
world-wide monarchies. There must be sceptres
ii2 Divine (Correction of a prophet's $)istahe,
for many hands and crowns for many heads, for
the Lord will not favour the monopolising- spirit.
The old motto, " Live and let live" is unspeakably
.more in accordance with His will than the modern
notion of one man grasping at well-nigh every-
thing. Covetous men may not put any limit to
their desires, but God will put limits to their
powers. This is a great good; for if some men
had opportunities and faculties equal to their am-
bition, all the business of the city would be
absorbed into two or three establishments, and
all the ships in the docks would belong to two
or three firms, and all the great profits of com-
merce would be swept into two or three coffers.
Men righteously denounced Napoleon for his
desire to make a French empire of all Europe.
There is too often a Napoleonism in commerce
which is not a whit more admirable. Instead of
vigorously and contentedly pursuing their own
proper business, men have sought profitable pecu-
niary connection with ten or twenty other totally
distinct enterprises. In how many cases this
and Bivine denial of a King's Besire. 113
vaulting ambition has overleaped itself ! How
much of present depression and difficulty has come
from practical forgetfulness of the obvious truth,
that it is not God's will that a few men should
have everything, but that honours, and profits,
and pleasures should be widely distributed ! Men
may determine " to have many irons in the fire/'
but God will not give them hands enough to
handle them all skilfully ; and, therefore, sooner
or later, fingers are sure to be burnt. In moral-
ising upon this matter, we have travelled further
than we intended from things ecclesiastical into
things secular; but it is easy to return by simply
remarking, that the spirit we have tried to describe
and deprecate sometimes creeps into the Church,
where it is more unseemly and reprehensible than
in the world.
From another part of the inspired history we
learn that the character of David's preceding work
was given as one reason why the present purpose
was to be laid aside : " But God said, Thou shall
not build an house for my name, because thou hast
i
ii4 Bivine Correction of a prophet's G$istahe,
been a man of war, and hast shed blood,"* It should
not be supposed that this implies censure of
David's warlike course. Had he not been quali-
fied for it, and called to it, by God? Was it not
a necessary work, and had he not Divine succour
in it ? It was both lawful and expedient ; and
yet it had unfitted him for the new kind of work
to which he wanted to put his hands. In our
present imperfect state, ability for one thing- may
involve disability for another thing. As no one
man is intended to gain everything, so no one
man is endowed with all the talents. Happy is
he who finds out what he is fit for, and devotes
himself to it; and is either so wise or so busy
that he does not attempt numerous other achieve-
ments. It is too often assumed that because a
man is gifted for " the work of the ministry," he
is equally gifted for many other things. He is
expected to be an "Admirable Crichton," to whom
a scientific lecture, a literary essay, a political
oration, a secretary's duties, and the labours of a
* i Chron. xxviii. 3.
. and Bivine 'Benial of a King's Besire. 115
counsellor to all classes on all subjects, are as
congenial as the preaching- of a sermon, and none
of them
" more difficile
Than for a blackbird 'tis to whistle."
If he fought battles as successfully as David, some
people would be surprised if he could not also
build temples as magnificently as Solomon. The
alleged author of " Ecce Homo " has well said,
that in these days of varied demands and multi-
plied endeavours, one of the first conditions of
ministerial success is that the minister impress
himself with the fact that he has not the genius
for doing everything. We should learn this lesson
for the times from the life of David, that great
success in one department of labour may actually
disqualify a man for another department. Not
because he had been such a bad warrior, but
because he had been such a good one, David
was to leave temple-building for another to under-
take.
Another way in which the Lord sought to recon-
i 2
u6 Bivine Correction of a prophet's $)istafce,
cile David to the denial of his desire, was by
promising- that his purpose should not perish, but
be carried out by his own son. " And when the
days be fulfilled, 1 will set up thy seed after thee,
and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build
an house for my name, and I will establish the throne
of his kingdom for ever." It is no wonder that
God's message checked all murmuring and rebel-
lion in David's heart. He did more than cheer-
fully submit ; he exulted in the decision and
purpose of the Lord. Instead of weeping and
wailing, because his plan had not been adopted,
he broke out into an impassioned and sublime
strain of thanksgiving. He looked at the great-
ness and glory God had promised to his house ;
and as he gazed at that, he could no more see
the denial of his request, than he could have seen
the faintest of the far-off stars while he was
looking at the lustre of the noon-tide sun. With
thoughts of mercies past and mercies to come
filling his mind, there was no room for discontent
on account of present disappointment. Let it
and divine Benial of a King's desire. 117
be remembered to the honour of his piety, that
such was his confidence in the. wisdom and love
and faithfulness of God, that one of the most
fervent songs he ever sung- was inspired by the
very message in which he was told he was not
to do what he had asked to do. "THEN WENT
KING DAVID IN AND SAT BEFORE THE LORD AND
SAID, WHO AM I, O LORD GOD, AND WHAT is MY
HOUSE, THAT THOU HAST BROUGHT ME HITHERTO ?
AND THIS WAS YET A SMALL THING IN THY SIGHT,
O LORD GOD : BUT THOU HAST SPOKEN ALSO OF THY
SERVANT'S HOUSE FOR A GREAT WHILE TO COME. AND
IS THIS THE MANNED OF MAN, O LORD GOD ? FOR
THY WORD'S SAKE, AND ACCORDING TO THINE OWN
HEART, HAST THOU DONE ALL THESE GREAT THINGS,
TO MAKE THY SERVANT KNOW THEM ? WHEREFORE
THOU ART GREAT, O LORD GOD J FOR THERE IS NONE
LIKE UNTO THEE, NEITHER is THERE ANY GOD BESIDE
THEE."
It ought to be easier for us to imitate David's
hearty acquiescence, because we know that sub-
sequent events proved how wise it was. Accord-
n8 'Bivine (Correction and 'Benial.
ing to God's promise, Solomon succeeded to the
throne, and was in every way fitted for the task
assigned to him. His reign was one of profound
peace and profuse plenty. He was inspired with
loftiest ideas of magnificence, and, having treasure
and skill at his command, his hands could achieve
what his thoughts dictated. Into the work of
building the temple he was able to press not
only the zeal of the Jews, but also the enterprise
and genius of the Gentiles. The sacred struc-
ture was completed according to a scale of gran-
deur far exceeding any conceptions which the
Psalmist had formed. As it stood there in all
its splendour, vocal with Divine praises and filled
with Divine glory, who could doubt that the Lord
had done right in deciding (against the prayer
of His servant) that not David but Solomon
should build it ? It was a magnificent testimony
to the truth that God's "Nay" and God's "Yea"
are only two different forms in which the same
everlasting love and infinite wisdom are expressed.
VI.
QF(EAT TF^OUBJLEJB
QREAT
PROVERBS xiv. 14.
The backslider in heart shall be filled with his own ways ; and a good
man shall be satisfied from himself."
GREAT TROUBLES FOLLOWING GREAT
TRANSGRESSIONS.
T F Solomon had been asked for practical con-
formation of these words, he could have
replied, that proofs of both statements were to
be found in the history of one and the same
man. When he drew the sharp contrast, he
might have been thinking- of two totally different
sides of his own father's experience. David re-
veals himself to us in the Psalms in the most
unreserved manner, and the revelation shows us
that his godliness was a well-spring of delight
in his heart. A bad man's belief in the exist-
ence of God is a trouble and a torment to him.
It is a fruitful root of fear and disquiet in his
(preat ^roubles following
soul, which he would pluck up, if his instincts
and reason did not prevent him. A good man's
belief in God is a fountain of peace and joy and
hope. It furnishes wing's to his spirit, where-
with he can rise at will into those higher regions
which clouds never darken, and tempests never
disturb. As a good man, David found his belief
in the Supreme One to be an unfailing help and
comfort. His gratitude, his obedience, his confi-
dence, his love, and all the other goodly graces
of his soul, were a cause of intense present de-
light, as well as a prophecy of future perfection
and glory. He had not to be always searching
for sources of pleasure outside of himself. When
every external stream was dried up, he could
retire within himself, and drink of the fountain
which the Spirit of God had created there. Be-
cause he was " a good man," he was " satisfied
from himself."
But David became a backslider, and then there
followed a long and sad experience which fully
verified the first part of the proverb. Men some-
(preat transgressions. 123
times speak, not of David's great sins, but of his
great sin, as if he were guilty of only one flagrant
transgression. Such language is lenient at the
expense of truth. A great sin seldom stands
altogether alone. It is most frequently found in
the midst of kindred company, like a high Alpine
peak a region of desolation and death, sur-
rounded by other desolate peaks only a little
lower than itself. In David's case it was not
one monster transgression, but several which lifted
themselves in colossal defiance of God's law. For
the concealment of one sin others were necessary ;
and what aggravated the guiltiness was the fact,
that, while the first sin was probably unpremedi-
tated, the other offences were certainly wrought
deliberately, and with deep design. The offender
against man and God might plead, that at first
he was swept into transgression by a sudden gust
of passion ; but he could not urge any such ex-
tenuation of his sins when he tempted Uriah to
drunkenness ; when he sent the patriotic soldier
back to the camp with a letter containing- a plan
124 (preat ^roubles follourmg
whereby his fidelity and courage might be taken
advantage of to accomplish his destruction; and
when he used his kingly power in commanding
Joab to help him in this murderous policy. There
are few things in history more appalling than the
the awful completeness of David's transgressions.
His offences lacked little or nothing to perfect
'their rankness, and make them " smell to heaven."
Having brought himself into difficulties by his
crime, he grappled with the difficulties with a
masterful energy and a terrible recklessness, as
if he would shrink from nothing, and spare nobody,
in his endeavour to hide his own shame. The
ravages made by sin in his nature, in a short
season, were incredibly great. Who could have
supposed that such selfishness, and meanness, and
hypocrisy, were possible in one who for years had
proved himself to be so generous, and noble, and
real ? How utterly unlike himself David was,
when he tried to cover his delight at Uriah's
death with canting words about the chances of
war and the duty of resignation ! What a pitiable
(Jireat transgressions. 125
pretence it was to send a messag-e to Joab, exhort-
ing- him not to be too much distressed and dis-
couraged by the calamity which had befallen the
army : " Thus shalt thou say unto Joab, Let not this
thing displease thee, for the sword devoureth one as
well as another ; make thy battle more strong against
the city and overthrow it ; and encourage thou him."
First, a secret letter to Joab, in which it was
written: "Set ye Uriah in the fore-front of the
hottest battle, and retire ye from him that he may
die ; " and next a public message to comfort the
commander under the bereavement he had sus-
tained ! Can this be David ? Is this what sin
does with a man when he suffers it to have place
and power in his heart ? The sight of such havoc
wrought in one who was a king amongst the great
and good, might well dim the brightness and dis-
turb the joy of heaven itself. It ought to have
been sufficient to make the Tempter and Destroyer
of men weep over the ruin he had accomplished.
It has made strong ones tremble and brave ones
quail, and in hearts innumerable it has intensified
126 (preat ^roubles following
the yearning after the better country where, to
saved and sheltered human nature, such sin and
such damage are impossible.
Our present object is not to set forth either
the repentance or the forgiveness of David, but to
show that, though he was penitent and pardoned,
he sustained great loss and damage by reason
of his sins. A later psalmist, in describing
God's dealings with the' Jews, states that both
pardon and punishment were dealt out to them.
" Thou wast a God that forgavest them, though
Thou tookest vengeance of their ' inventions!' * This
blending of mercy and judgment, forgiveness
and chastisement, may seem contradictory, if not
impossible, to those who make the always harmful
and often fatal mistake of taking one-sided views
of the Divine character and government; but the'
history of the Church abounds with illustrations
of it. The mercy which forgave, and restored, and
* Psalm xcix. 8. In the English edition of Hengstenberg
on the Psalms, the passage is rendered as follows : " Thou
wast a forgiving God to them, and an avenging God because
of their iniquities."
transgressions. 127
cleansed David, did not stay all the evil conse-
quences of his transgressions, but left the back-
slider to eat much of the bitter fruit of his ways.
Punishment for his sin preceded his penitence
and forgiveness. For a whole year David re-
mained in that strangest greatest guilt of all
an unconsciousness of guilt. We do not know
with what opiates he drugged his conscience ; but
how fast asleep it was we learn from the trouble
Nathan had to arouse it. How blind he must
have been, not to have instantly discerned an image
of himself in the mirror the prophet held up before
him ! His spiritual sensibilities were so deadened
he did not imagine there was any reference to him
in the story Nathan told. There is no evidence
that he would have dreamed of applying it to
himself, if the prophet had not said, " Thou art the
man'' If his conscience had been tender and
wakeful, he would have caug-ht Nathan's meaning-
before the story was half told, and he would have
thought that men were referring' to his fall when
they had no intention of alluding- to it. With
128 (preat ^roubles following
great beams in both his own eyes, he was yet
determined to put another man to death for having
a mote in one of his. This long-lasting- and deep
forgetfulness of his own state is one of the most
fearful things belonging to David's declension.
The sin which makes it so important and necessary
for a man to know himself, is the very thing which
most robs him of the power of knowing himself.
Who can understand his errors ? While David was
forgetting his transgressions, God was setting them
in the light of His countenance the light that
most reveals the infulsness of sin. Describing that
period of his impenitence, David says, " My bones
waxed old through my roaring all the day long. For
day and night Thy hand was heavy upon me; my
moisture is turned into the drought of summer." Some
have supposed that these words refer to a punish-
ment actually inflicted upon David in the form of
a bodily sickness. This is very possible, for sick-
ness of the body is one of the messengers God
sends to bring the sins of the soul to mind. Burn-
ing fever or wasting consumption has strange
(preat transgressions. 129
power to quicken dead consciences and to awaken
sleeping* memories. Many an old man has been
made " to possess the sins of his youth " by the
instrumentality of some bodily affliction. It may
be that in some such way David was made to
suffer before he repented. Others suppose that
the words quoted above refer only to a dread
of punishment which David had prior to his
forgiveness. This is quite compatible with the
fact, that he failed to confess his sins, and even
forgot their heinousness. Apart from deep con-
viction of guilt, there might have been a vague
apprehension of coming evil, disturbing his peace,
and devouring his strength. Whether it were
disease of body, or melancholy of mind, it was
from the hand of the Lord, and it was because
of his unforgiven and unconfessed transgressions.
When at length David acknowledged his sins,
and cried for mercy, he was met by God with
wondrous grace. The promptness of the pardon
proves that God does, indeed, delight in mercy.
As in the case of the returning prodigal, David
130 (Preat ^roubles following
was scarcely allowed to finish his confession,
before the prophet exclaimed : " The Lord also
hath put away thy sin; thou shall not die." The
words of forgiveness were, however, coupled
with a prophecy of woe which was soon ful-
filled : " The child that is born unto thee shall
surely die." The sight of the stricken child vainly
struggling for life, must have pierced the heart
of David as with a two-edged sword. If a
father have any fragment of a man's heart left
in him, he must be crushed by the spectacle of
his own children bearing a heavy part of the
curse of his own sins. That spectacle has often
moved the most hardened men to tears, and
the dread of beholding it has been one of the
shields which good men have lifted between
themselves and temptation. What inexpressible
agony David must have endured, as he looked
at the innocent sufferer, and said. "It is because
of my sin that this little one has been racked
with pain and devoured by disease ! " With what
earnestness and holy indignation he would have
(preat transgressions. 131
repudiated the lie, if any fanatic had gone to
him then, saying", " God does not punish sin in
His chosen ones!" With what horror he would
have repelled the temptation, if any mercy-
abusing Antinomian had whispered in his ear,
''Let us continue in sin, for grace doth abound!"
" Nay," he would have answered, " let us rather
shun the very appearance of evil. Grace does
abound. Mercy is granted, but still my wicked-
ness corrects me ; my backslidings reprove me ;
I am learning with fresh force that it is an evil
and a bitter thing to forsake the Lord ! "
What we say of fire or water might have been
truly said of Joab, David's commander-in-chief.
He was a good servant, but a bad master. One
of the evil results of the sins -in the matter of
Uriah was, that it changed the position of Joab.
Henceforth he was more like David's master
than David's servant. For the sake of his
dignity and honour and peace it was of first
importance that the King should have full con-
trol over his impulsive and unscrupulous general ;
132 threat ^roubles following
but how could he retain that control after the
scene in front of the walls of Rabbah? From
the moment that fatal letter was put into Joab's
hand, he must have felt that David was utterly
in his power. What a secret for a servant to
possess concerning his master! There are facts
which give us glimpses of the way Joab used
the power he had acquired. It was he who
thrust the rebel Absalom through with darts,
despite the King's explicit command that the
traitor should not be slain in his sins. This
showed how he set himself above David's autho-
rity. There was much wisdom in the rebuke he
administered to David about his excessive grief
over Absalom's death, but the insolent manner in
which he administered it was another proof that
the nominal servant had become the real master.
When David promoted Amasa, Joab showed
his respect for the King's will by deliberately
assassinating the man the king delighted to
honour. On his death-bed, David revealed the
soreness of heart which the tyranny and dis-
(preat transgressions. 133
obedience and defiance of Joab had caused him ;
and he besought Solomon to inflict the punishment
which he himself had been unable to inflict. This
is one of the curses which follow sin ; it puts the
sinner into the power of other men, and they
often use the power to drive him into further
sin. Pilate longed to set Jesus free, but he
dared not do it for fear of the priests and
Pharisees. It was his former misdeeds which
had robbed the Roman governor of his power,
and made him that day to a great extent the
mere creature of the envious and murderous
foes of the Son of man. If we would maintain
our fearlessness and freedom, we must maintain
our consistency and purity. As surely as any
man flagrantly violates truth and righteousness,
so surely he puts himself into the clutches of
somebody, whose grip will be neither pleasant
nor helpful to him.
A proper control over Joab could not have
been the only power David lost through his sins.
The power of rebuke was most essential to him.
i34 (preat ^roubles following
As a father, how much need there was for him
to use it amongst his own sinful children ! As
a king-, how much need for him to use it over
his subjects ; and, as a prophet, what need for
him to use it in the Church ! But, when he
sinned so fearfully, he must have sinned away
well-nigh all his force for rebuking others. That
power in his hands could never have been the
same after his fall as it had been before. As
in former times, men's transgressions might
make rivers of water run down his eyes, but
how could he severely chide the wrong-doers ?
If he had begun to speak sternly, he would have
been instantly met with a look which would have
plainly said, "Physician, heal thyself! Back-
slider, think of thine own sins ! " He had to go
softly all the rest of his days. He might declare
the tender mercies of the Lord, but he could
not, as he used to do, speak of the judgments of
God arid make his words a perfect terror to
evil-doers. Doubtless there were many times
when the sight of some flagrant sin enkindled
transgressions. 135
fires of indignation within him, and he was
about to speak like a holy prophet of the Lord ;
but suddenly the memory of his own trespasses
slew the unspoken rebuke upon his lips. Imper-
fect and inconsistent people may proclaim the love
of God with fervour; but a man's power to
speak of punishment, and to wield the terrors
of the Lord effectively, is always proportionate
to his personal purity and consistency. David's
loss of this power was the loss of so much
fitness for saintly service. It was a feebleness
which must have been an agony to him when-
ever he realised it, for nothing but his own sin
had caused it When he saw the force of evil
passion in Amnon and Absalom, how he must
have hated his own iniquities, if only for this
reason, they had crippled the hand wherewith he
should have held back his loved ones from the way
that leadeth to death '
We learn from several Psalms that David suf-
fered much from slander. He was a successful
man, and his success excited envy, and envy gave
136 (preat ^roubles following
birth to calumny. Hence we hear him complain-
ing of false accusations, and appealing from the
aspersions of men to the judgment of God. It
is not possible to fix the dates of all the Psalms
in which he refers to these slanders, but we may
be sure he was likely to suffer most from this
cause after his backslidings. This would be espe-
cially true of such calumnies as those of which he
complains so piteously in the forty-first Psalm.
His great sins must have facilitated the work of
the backbiters for when a man has actually done
two or three very evil things, it is easy to get
belief for almost any lying story to his detriment.
The facts give an air of probability to the false-
hoods. The old truths concerning the man are
as wings on which the new lies are borne hither
and thither and everywhere. This helps to make
it so difficult to regain a lost reputation. Long
after the man has recovered his moral health, busy
tongues will wag against him, and affirm that there
are new eruptions of the old disease. It must be
hard to bear, but it is one of the evil consequences
(preat transgressions. 137
of sin which we can surely escape only by eschew-
ing- all sin. In the day of his adversity David
learned fully what men had thought of him in
the day of his prosperity. The coarse, cruel, and
false things which Shimei said, when he cursed
the fugitive King, were said then for the first
time to the King's face, but doubtless they had
been often said by others behind his back. How
much David must have suffered as he saw that
it was his own sins which had furnished a basis
of truth for this superstructure of calumnies! How
he must have then hated his sins, if only for this
reason they had given implements to the hands
of the slanderers, with which they might the more
readily destroy his reputation, and thereby damage
religion and dishonour God ! We may not be able
to shield ourselves against backbiters, for He who
was incarnate perfection did not enjoy that security.
This, however; we may do, by the help of God^-
so maintain our consistency and integrity, that there
shall be no flagrant fault in us to give plausibility
to what the poisoned tongue of slander affirms.
138 (preat ^roubles following
A father's happiness is largely in the keeping
of his children. If they go wrong, there will be
always bitterness in his cup, and a blight upon his
joy, notwithstanding any amount of temporal pros-
perity he may have. If they turn out well, he will
find in their good characters a set-off against many
calamities, and a region to which his troubled
thoughts may often repair for sunshine and solace.
As the custodians of their father's happiness, some
of David's children proved to be very heartless and
faithless. The career of Amnon and Absalom
would, under any circumstances, have been suf-
ficient to put a lasting sadness into David's heart.
Who then can describe the grief it must have been
to him, seeing he was assured that it was to no
little extent the fruit of his own evil example
and the curse which followed his own sins ? It is
only as we remember this, that we can fully
appreciate his unutterable agony when Absalom
perished.
David prayed for pardon, for purity, and for a
restoration of spiritual joy. It does not appear
transgressions. 139
that this side the grave he received a large answer
to the last request. Traces of the mischief which
had been wrought were visible down to the latest
hour of life. The splendour of his reputation
and the exulting gladness of his spirit were never
fully recovered. It was impossible, for, though
God had forgiven, David could not forget. The
life-long memory of his sins must have been a life-
long trouble. The more he realised that God had
forgiven him, the less he could forgive himself.
It mattered not in what fair scenes and prosperous
circumstances he was placed, his thoughts would
be travelling back to that dark and doleful region,
and fetching thence materials for present gloom
and grief.
"If sad the thought of sweetness gone,
If pain past pleasures bring,
How shall my sins be gazed upon,
And not resume their sting ?
" Hath not Thy mercy made me whole ?
Hath not Thy grace forgiven ?
Yet still the grief regains my soul,
Yet still my heart is riven.
140 (|!reat ^roubles following (fireat transgressions.
" Those buried sins of mine arise,
Again my heart runs o'er ;
Once more those deep, repentant sighs,
Those bitter tears once more."
David's experience proves the wisdom of his
prayer for preventing grace : " Keep back Thy
servant also from presumptuous sins." Prevention
is better than cure. Prevention is better than
pardon. For the son who had never wandered,
there could be no such feast of welcome as there
was for the returned prodigal ; but the father,
while justifying the festivities, was careful to pro-
test against the elder brother's notion that the
pardoned profligate was having by far the best
lot. For him who had not gone away to sow his
wild oats and garner the harvest of woe in his
heart, there could be no rapturous joy of resto-
ration : but who can tell the greatness of the
blessing which belonged to him, even the blessing
referred to by his father in those few words of
unfathomable meaning : " Son, thou art ever with
me, and all that I have is thine!"
VII.
THE QUICKE^INQ Of
COJ\ICIE]NCE
BY F(1^PAH'3 EXAMPLE
2 SAMUEL xxi. i 14.
THE QUICKENING OF DAVID'S CONSCIENCE
BY RIZPAH'S EXAMPLE.
O OME years since it was found that many
returned emigrants were ending- their days
in English workhouses. When the authorities
inquired into the causes of this fact, they ascer-
tained that in nearly every case those who were
then paupers had formerly prospered in the
colonies ; but they had forsaken their prosperity
and come back to England, because they could
not bear the thought of dying and being buried
in the strange lands wherein they had made their
homes for a season. While they were in health
and vigour, they were comparatively content to
be far away from the old country ; but as soon
144 ^$> ne GJuichening of David's Conscience
as the shadows of evening- began to fall, they
yearned to return to the familiar haunts of life's
morning-, in order that, when they fell asleep,
they might be laid to rest in their fathers' sepul-
chres. The desire was so strong, that they
yielded to it, although they thereby doomed
themselves to poverty for the remainder of their
days. This is an instinct which cannot be put
down by force of argument. After all that can
be said about the unwisdom of it, the voice of
nature will still plead for it, and " it seems to
be the appointment of heaven that the first
attachments of which the heart is conscious should
be its last." If we have no such desire about
our own final resting-places, we have about those
of our friends, and we like to have the graves
of our ioved ones near to us, and not far away
amongst strangers.
' Tis well ; 'tis something ; we may stand
Where he in English earth is laid,
And from his ashes may be made
The violet of his native land.
by Bizpah's Example. 145
' Tis little ; but it looks in truth
As if the quiet bones were blest,
Among familiar names to rest
And in the places of his youth."
This feeling- must not be denounced as mere
sentimentalism, for it has been cherished as an
honourable thing- by men who were neither feeble
nor foolish. It prevailed amongst the Jews in
ancient days, and strong- and sainted men were
not ashamed to own it. When Barzillai pleaded
against the preferment which David was urging
upon him, this was his last and most forcible
entreaty: "Lei thy servant, I pray thee, turn back
again; that I may die in mine own city, and be
buried by the grave of my father and my mother."
David must have been aware of the prevalence
and power of this feeling amongst his fellow-
Israelites, and there can be little doubt that he
fully sympathised with it. Was it not strange
that he should for so many years leave the re-
mains of Saul and Jonathan in the place of their
hasty sepulture, far from the burial place of
146 ^he t^uichening of David's Conscience
their fathers ? When the King and his sons fell
in the field of Gilboa, the Philistines exulted with
a cruel and savage exultation, and did their
utmost to dishonour the dead. They carried the
armour of the slain into the house of their god,
and the bodies of the monarch and the princes they
ignominiously affixed to the wall of a city near
to the battle-field. In the first days of his
sovereignty Saul had rendered great service to
the people of Jabesh-Gilead, and his good deed
was not forgotten after his death. The men of
that city heard of the indignity done to the dead,
and they braved many dangers in a successful
effort to recover the bodies from the Philistines ;
and then they gave to them as honourable a burial
as was in their power. It might have been fairly
anticipated that, on his coming into power, David
would make an early effort to bring the body of
Jonathan to his native place, and there inter it
with all the honour befitting the burial of such
a princely man and faithful friend. Instead of
this, David allowed thirty years to pass away
by Bizpah's Example. 147
before he did what reverence and gratitude for
the dead should have constrained him to regard
as a sacred duty to be discharged as soon as pos-
sible. After that long period, he was awakened
to a sense of what was becoming, by hearing of
a widow's faithful service to the dead bodies of
her children. This incident is eminently worthy
of careful consideration, for it belongs to one of
the strangest passages in David's chequered his-
tory, and it furnishes a very striking instance of
the irresistible power of example.
Towards the close of David's life, the prospe-
rity of the kingdom was interrupted by a famine.
It seems that at first the king supposed it to
arise from ordinary causes, and it awakened in
him no special spiritual anxiety; but when it con-
tinued and increased in severity for three years,
he accounted it to be a judgment from God, and
sought to know for what reason it was inflicted.
"He inquired of the Lord. And the Lord answered,
It is for Saul, and for his bloody house, because he
slew the Gibeonites." It will be remembered that,
148 >he Quickening of Bavid's Conscience
in the days of Joshua, the Gibeonites had, by
means of false pretences, obtained a covenant of
peace between themselves and the Israelites.
They were degraded to perpetual servitude ; but
with all the. sacredness of a solemn oath the
public faith was pledged to them for the security
of their lives. Under circumstances not fully dis-
closed to us, Saul broke the oath and forfeited
the honour of the nation, by slaying many of
the Gibeonites, and by attempting- to destroy
them all.
It has been supposed by some that he was severe
and cruel towards the Gibeonites, as a kind of
set-off against his pretended compassion towards
the Amalekites. A guilty severity on the one
hand, to atone for a forbidden lenity on the other
hand ! It seems as silly as it was sinful ; but
then all sin is foolish as well as guilty ; and a
corrupt heart has power to muddle the best brain
and to turn even a Solomon into a fool ! Others
have conjectured that Saul slew the Gibeonites
at the same time that he slew the priests whose
by ftizpah's Example. 149
servants they were. Later commentators* have
thought that light is to be obtained from the
question Saul put to his courtiers when he was
disclosing his suspicions against David : " Hear
now, ye Benjamites ; will the son of Jesse give every
one of you fields, and vineyards, and make you
captains of thousands and captains of hundreds f "
This implies that Saul either had given or would
give them fields and vineyards. It has been
asked, "Where did Saul get land to distribute
amongst his servants, as a means of securing
fidelity to himself?" He could not have acquired
it in his own country by purchase, or in neigh-
bouring countries by conquest, but he could, and
probably did, acquire it by dispossessing and
destroying the Gibeonites. One thing is certain
the guilty deed was done in the alleged
interest of the Jewish people ; for it is said,
" Saul sought to slay them in his zeal to the chil-
dren of Israel and fudah." It is easy to under-
stand that the thing was popular with many of
* See Kitto's " Daily Bible Illustrations."
15 tf>he (^uichening of David's (Bonscience
the Jews, for, if it did not enrich them, it
humoured their prejudices, and gratified their
not unnatural feelings of hostility toward the
Gibeonites. Nothing is more likely than that the
King perpetrated the flagrant crime in order to
regain some of his lost popularity. It has too
frequently happened that monarchs, who have not
tried to win the affection and fidelity of their
subjects by a wise and righteous use of power,
have sought to gratify them by pandering to
some evil passion. Herod killed James, the
brother of John, with the sword ; " and, because
he saw it pleased the Jews, he proceeded further to
take Peter also" There are many reasons why
we should pray for kings and for all that
are in authority, and this is not the least
of them the more they use their power in
wisdom and righteousness, the more they
are shielded against temptations to abuse their
power. Those who enthrone themselves in
the hearts of the people by the equity and
benignity of their sway, never have need
by Bizpah's Example. 151
to resort to the degrading- and guilty ex-
pedient of making wars against other nations,
and of wronging or plundering or abusing other
people in order to be popular with their own
subjects. With what awful force one sin drives
a man on to another sin ! If Saul had main-
tained his godliness, and done his duty, he
would never have been tempted to murder his
peaceful and unoffending vassals in order to
show " his zeal to the children of Israel and
Judah."
The sin of Saul was regarded by God as a
national sin, either because the people shared
in the plunder, or because they sympathised
with or connived at the deed. The matter was
one of double guilt, for, besides the shedding
of innocent blood, there was the violation of
a solemn compact. The breaking of oaths and
promises is exceedingly sinful in the sight of Him
who is infinitely faithful, and who, in His grace to
the guilty, makes an everlasting covenant with
them. It is quite possible that the treaty the
152 ^he ^uicfcening of David's Conscience
Jews had made was sometimes irksome to them ;
but faithfulness is not to limit itself to promises
which are easy and pleasant to fulfil. "Lord,
who shall abide in Thy tabernacle? Who shall
dwell in Thy holy hill? He that swear eth to his
own hurt, and changeih not f" The sin of the King
and his people was not instantly followed by
punishment, but the Lord patiently waited for
confession and repentance. Year after year
passed away, and the crime was neither mourned
over nor acknowledged. It seemed to be forgotten
by almost every one excepting Him into whose
unforgeting memory every transgression enters,
and who sets all our sins before Him, our secret
sins in the light of His countenance. Nearly
fifty years had expired, and still there was no
sense of guilt no reparation for wrong-doing.
Then the Lord came forth to punish. He stayed
the rains of heaven, the fields were parched, the
harvest was scanty, and there began to be un-
satisfied hunger and thirst in the land, which
usually flowed with milk and honey. For three
by Kizpah's Example. 153
years these strokes of judgment were repeated
with a constantly increasing- severity, and in the
school of experience the sinful people were
taught the difference between the delay in pun-
ishment which Divine patience makes, and the
forgiveness of sin which human penitence secures.
" These things hast thou done, and 1 kept silence:
thou thoughtest I was altogether such an one as
thyself. But I will reprove thee and set them in
order before thine eyes" Some men have a feeling
that there is an appearance of injustice if a crime
be punished many years after its perpetration.
But lapse of time has no power to diminish the
guilt of an action, and why should it deter or
diminish punishment ? If lapse of time work
change in the offender, bringing him to repent-
ance, then it is meet for mercy to interpose with
pardon, and keep back punishment for ever.
This is according to God's promise : " If the
wicked restore the pledge, give again that he had robbed,
walk in the statutes of life without committing
iniquity; he shall surely live, he shall not die.
154 >he t^uicfeening of Bavid's (Conscience
None of his sins that he hath committed shall be
mentioned unto him" Where, on the other hand,
the rolling years reveal no improvement, the
guilt is increased instead of diminished. To the
guilt of the transgression in former days is now
to be added the guilt of abusing the patience
of God and frustrating the gracious purpose
of His forbearance. In these cases delayed
judgment will be at last heavier judgment.
Lapse of time may lead us to forget a sin, or
lose our sense of its sinfulness; but what is
the lapse of a life-time in the sight of God?
There is no pleading a statute of limitations
in His courts. " With Him a thousand years are
but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch
in the night"
Of course objectors will ask the old question :
"Was it just to make one generation suffer
for the sins of another ? " Seeing the famine
did not come till more than forty years after
the offence, the greater part of the offenders
must have entirely escaped the punishment ; and
by Bizpah's Example. 155
it is said, therefore, the delayed judgment must
have been an unjust judgment. How is it people
never think of asking this other question : " Is
it just for one generation to be enriched in
many- ways by the skill and labour and victories
of a preceding generation ?" The law of God
that links the generations together is constantly
and powerfully working for good. We are all
of us more or less better in body, mind, and
estate, because of the virtues of those who have
lived before us. If we were to be stripped of
all the fruit of the various excellences of bygone
generations, how poor and feeble we should be !
How is it that the child of English Christian
parents starts on the journey of life with a nature
in many respects very distinct from and superior to
the nature of the child of barbarian and pagan
parents ? It is because, from its very birth, the
English child is benefited and blessed through
the character its ancestors have maintained for
generations past. Our freedom, our art and
science, our civilization, with all its power to
156 fphe tuicfeening of David's (Conscience
mitigate the sorrows and increase the pleasures
of life, are not the creation of our wisdom, they
are not the product of our virtues. By far the
larger portion of them we owe, under God, to
the work and worth of those who now sleep
in their graves. " Other men laboured, and we
have entered into their labours." We are
always reaping golden grain which grows
from good seed our fathers scattered ; and
therefore we must not be ready to impeach
the Divine justice because sometimes we are
torn by thorns and briers, which they, in their
seasons of folly and sin, did plant. Instead of
sitting in ignorant, presumptuous judgment on
God's justice, let us be more careful to maintain
our own. Is there one who complains of
suffering which comes upon him through the
sins of others? Then, in common fairness, he
ought to complain also because he enjoys so
much through the virtues of others. If he look
at the thorns and briers our ancestors planted,
and exclaim, " God ought not to let me be
by Bizpah's Example. 157
torn by these, I did not commit the folly of
planting- them!" he should also look at the broad
harvest-field of English freedom, civilization, and
religion, and exclaim, " God ought not to let me
gather one sheaf from this paradisaic plenty; !
had nothing to do with ploughing 1 the soil and
scattering- the seed. No shed blood of mine
ever became part of the red rain that made the
harvest grow so fast!" Concerning the law
which connects our characters and circumstances
with those of our fathers, we should ask :
" What ! shall we receive good at its hand, and
shall we not receive evil ? " It was ordained of
God in a benignant spirit, and for a beneficent
purpose ; and it is man's folly that turns it into
a power for inflicting- evil, and a channel along-
which calamities flow from the past to the
present, and from the present to the future.
Instead of cavilling- at a law which we could
not repeal, if we would, and ought not to
repeal, if we could, let us always remember
that the law is in force, and be constrained so
158 fphe f^uichening of David's (Conscience
to carry ourselves that those who come after
us shall never have to suffer for our sins.
It was doubtless by God's direction that David
suffered the surviving Gibeonites to decide what
should be done to expiate the sin. They de-
manded that seven of Saul's descendants should
be publicly executed, and their demand was
granted. Saul and his sons had been the leaders
in the unprincipled slaughter, and his descendants
were most likely the largest holders of the un-
righteous spoil. It was fitting that, if any were
to suffer death for the sin, it should be these
princes, and not some of the common people
who had followed in the footsteps of their King.
They were brought forth and hanged in the
sight of all the land ; and, in a very forcible
manner, princes and people, statesmen and priests,
were taught that the national honour must be kept
inviolate, that the feeble must not be oppressed,
that the strong must not confound might with right,
and that wickedness must not go unpunished, be-
cause it gets into the high places of the earth.
by Bizpah's Example. 159
It was contrary to Jewish custom to leave the
bodies upon the gibbets to waste away ; but it
was done in the case of these seven, either be-
cause the Gibeonites demanded it, or in order
to make the warning" more terrible. It gave
rise to a most touching display of motherly
affection and fidelity. Two of the seven were
sons of Rizpah, who, though she had been one
of Saul's wives, was still living. If she had
possessed the power, we may be sure she would
have tenderly taken the bodies of her loved ones
from the disgraceful gibbets, and have buried
them in peaceful graves, which she would have
wet with her tears till death had laid her to
sleep by their side. She could not bear the
thought of their hanging there for the vultures
to tear to pieces and devour, and she determined
to keep watch over them and drive off the foul
birds of prey. The blackening corpses dangling
in the air must have been a horrid spectacle to
her, and we could not have wondered if she had
fled away from the heart-breaking sight. But
160 tf>he (^uichening of David's (Conscience
her love, prompting" her to do what she deemed
her duty to the dead, was mighty and trium-
phant over all. She made her home upon the
rock, and watched with a vigilance that never
slept, and a devotion that never wearied. In a
few words the inspired historian sets before us
such a scene as a poet's fancy never conceived,
and a painter's pencil never adequately portrayed.
" And Rizpah took sackcloth, and spread it for her
upon the rock, from the beginning of harvest until
water dropped upon them out of heaven, and suffered
neither the birds of the air to rest on them by day,
nor the beasts of the field by night." They were
counted as accursed, and unworthy of the burial
of dogs ; but she would not cast them out of her
heart. The more they were shunned by others,
the more she clung to them ; and the deeper their
disgrace, the deeper her compassion. It is a great
thing when God say sthat He pities like a father ;
it is a far greater thing when He affirms that His
love is more unforgetting and imperishable than
the love of a woman to her own offspring !
bij Bizpah's Bxample. 161
It was told David what Rizpah had done, and
instantly his memory was awakened, and his
conscience was quickened. He thought of the
bones of Saul and Jonathan sleeping- in the place
of their somewhat hurried and unseemly burial.
He saw the duty he ought to have discharged
years before, and he at once girded himself to
discharge it. He fetched the long-neglected
remains from Jabesh-Gilead, and carried them to
the country of Benjamin, and buried them in the
sepulchre of Kish, the father of Saul. With
them he buried also the bodies of the seven,
and thus relieved the tender and faithful-hearted
Rizpah from the burden of work and woe which
her love for her own had laid upon her. The
history closes with these significant words: "And
after that God was entreated for the land'' Long-
forgotten sin had been brought to mind, and
acknowledged, and expiated ; homage had been
paid to justice ; the evil of unfaithfulness had
been exposed ; the honour of the nation had been
purged from foul stains ; it had been shown that
M
162 fjjhe Quickening of Bavid's (Conscience
neither kings nor princes can do wrong 1 with
impunity ; maternal fondness and fidelity had been
touchingly displayed ; a long- forgotten duty had
been attended to ; a noble example had borne
fruit ; and " after that God was entreated for the
land." The generous heavens poured down their
showers, the languishing life of field and vineyard
revived, and the earth was clothed with beauty
and teemed with fruitfulness again. There was
one more glorious proof of the everlasting truth
RIGHTEOUSNESS EXALTETH A NATION.
The way in which Rizpah's conduct moved
David to his duty affords a fine instance of what
has been aptly called " unconscious influence."
She had no design upon the conscience of the
King, but her right doing told with great effect.
If she had lectured him about his duty to the
sleeping dust of his friend, he might have re-
sented her efforts as an impertinence ; but he
could neither resent nor resist the silent appeal
of her actions. Words are often feeble and in
vain, but deeds are seldom fruitless. The most
by Hixpah's Example. 163
eloquent preachers may have to cry out com-
plainingly " Who hath- believed our report ? "
The success of example is far more certain, for
its fragrance has never been a sweetness wholly
"wasted on the desert air." Susceptibility to its
power is a universal possession. Birds that have
become dumb and have forgotten their strains,
have had their memories touched, and have been
moved to melodious songs again, by being placed
where they could hear the carols of other birds.
Did any man ever yet, by the grace of God, set
his life to holy music, without stirring up the in-
stinct of sacred song in some other human breast ?
No MAN LIVETH TO HlMSELF ! No MAN DIETH TO
HIMSELF !
VIII.
THE TWO THINQ3 WHICH DyVVID
HAD ]S|EVEF( J3EEJN.
PSALM xxxvii. 25.
" I have been young, and now am old ; yet have I not seen the righteous
forsaken, nor his seed begging bread."
THE TWO THINGS WHICH DAVID HAD
NEVER SEEN,
'"INHERE can be no doubt that many disad-
vantages and disabilities belong- to the
period of old age. For many reasons, the sea-
son of youth is to be greatly preferred. In elas-
ticity of limb, in buoyancy of feeling, in the
intensity with which pleasure can be enjoyed, in
the faculty of getting great mirth out of very
small materials, in the irrepressible energy with
which both body and spirit overflow, the young
man has a decided advantage over the old one.
In the midst of his present infirmities, the old
man remembers the time when he too was in the
pride of youth and prime of life, and possessed
all the glories of an unwasted and unwearied
1 68 ^h
nature; and as he realises that they have passed
away from him for ever, so far as earthly expe-
rience is concerned, he cannot help a measure of
pensiveness stealing over his spirit. But he soon
checks his sadness by reminding himself that the
goodness of the Creator has left no period of
life without its own peculiar pleasures, and hence
even old age has its own special advantages and
alleviations. He knows that while the course of
time has separated him widely from the energy
and enthusiasm of youth, it has also enlarged his
experience and matured his wisdom. He knows
his own heart better than he formerly knew it,
and is less likely to commit the folly of an ex-
cessive confidence in it. He knows the real na-
ture and worth of things better, and is less likely
to be deceived by mere appearances. He knows
God better ; and, therefore, with increased force,
he can testify how safe it is to trust in God, how
wise it is to serve Him, and what ever-multiplying
reasons there are for loving Him with all the
heart, and soul, and strength. In the most effective
which Bavid had never $een. 169
of all schools the old man has learned lessons of
priceless value, which, apart from the teaching
of years and circumstances, he could not have
learned. He has the wisdom which is the off-
spring- of experience, the best wisdom in the
world for giving- birth to patience and content-
ment, forbearance and charity. He waits for fur-
ther light where a young man would rush to hasty
conclusions. He knows how to do nothing and
to say nothing in circumstances which would tempt
a young man to say and to do all manner of rash
things, whereby present difficulties would be com-
plicated, and work would be provided for future
repentance. " Thanks be to God ! " he can ex-
claim, " the great law of compensation which runs
through the universe prevails in all its beneficent
force in these regions of old age. The same
irresistible tide which has swept me away from
some privileges and powers, has carried me into
possession of others. My eye has become dim,
and my natural force is abated, but I have trea-
sures which belong to no other period of life.
17
These 'the hand of palsy shall never touch, and
the fire of fever shall never burn.' The outward
man decays, but the inward man is renewed day
by day."
To a generous heart, delighting- in doing good,
it would be a great grief if no further service
could be rendered. The old man is not doomed
to that sadness. For him the change is not from
usefulness to uselessness, but from one kind of
service to another. As in earlier life he rendered
effective help by his ardour, and vigour, and pas-
sion for work, so now he can serve by means of
his sober counsels, ripened wisdom, and mature
character. This was fully exemplified in the his-
tory of David. We have seen him serving his
generation in circumstances wherein the strength
and enthusiasm of the young man were neces-
sary; and we have now to listen to him as in
this psalm he serves all generations by bearing
that emphatic testimony in favour of godliness,
which is never so effective as from the lips of an
old man. This is not a psalm in which David
which U?)avid had never $een. 171
confesses his own sins, or celebrates his own
mercies, or tells the troubles of his own life. It
is rich in counsel given by the aged saint to other
people. He exhorts them to be patient, and not
to fret because wicked people sometimes prosper,
and not to think that God cares nothing- about
the good or the evil of human character, and that
godly people have nothing but the shady and
wintry side of earthly life. He entreats them
to wait on the Lord, to be faithful and diligent
in all well-doing, and to set their hearts on holi-
ness, counting that to be the greatest treasure
man can gain or God can give. He assures them
that this course must sooner or later prove the
only wise and safe course. It may, for a while,
lead through darkness and difficulty, but it will
finally conduct the persevering pilgrim to peace
and joy, to glory and to God. David gives these
exhortations and assurances on the strength of
his own experience and observation. These were
the truths he had learnt during his long and
chequered career. " A litlh that a righteous man
i7 2
hath is better than the riches of many wicked. The
steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He
delighteth in his way. Though he fall, he shall not
be utterly cast down: for the Lord upholdeth him
with His hand. I HAVE BEEN YOUNG, AND NOW AM
OLD; YET HAVE I NOT SEEN THE RIGHTEOUS FOR-
SAKEN, NOR HIS SEED BEGGING BREAD."
It must be borne in mind that these words are
not a Divine promise, but a human testimony ;
not a declaration on God's part as to His un-
changing" and universal purpose, but a statement
on the part of one man as to his life-long expe-
rience. This fact prompts the inquiry Who and
what was this man ? Before examining the nature
of the testimony, we must look at the character
and capacity of the witness. He tells us of two
things he had never seen; but had he travelled
far and wide, or had he looked round upon only
a narrow circle ? He declares that he never saw
a good man in spiritual loneliness, or a good man's
children in utter temporal destitution ; but in what
scenes and circumstances had he spent his days ?
which $)avid had never $een. 173
If he always consorted with the prosperous and
the wealthy, the things he saw not may have
existed not very far from him, although his heart
was never troubled by the sight of them. There
are people so enshrined in ease and splendour,
that they know little or nothing of the world of
want and woe which lies just outside of their
charmed and gilded circle. That world is none
the less real, because easy-going and pampered
folk live in what they would deem blissful igno-
rance of it. Was the psalmist a man after this
fashion ? Was he of the number who, because
they always sleep in the lap of luxury themselves,
dream not of poverty and pain endured by others ?
The answer is, that there never lived a man who,
by a wide and diversified experience, was better
able than David to speak with authority upon the
matter about which he here testifies. Supposing
ourselves in his presence, we may inquire of him
as to his fitness for bearing this testimony. From
the facts of his wondrous history we can imagine
what his answer would be.
" I am king of Israel, and I dwell in a palace
of cedar. I have rest from all mine enemies round
about me. There are thousands of men to whom
my word is law, and of earthly good I have all
that wealth can purchase, or power procure, or
heart can wisely desire. But I have known other
times, and lived in other circumstances. To what
extreme of human position am I an utter stranger ?
To what height of power and prosperity have I
not been uplifted ? To what depth of sorrow
and difficulty have I not been cast down ? I was
a peasant in Bethlehem; I married the king's
daughter and became a prince of the realm. I
have been keeper of a handful of sheep in the
wilderness, and I have commanded the hosts of
Israel in the field of battle. I have been the cham-
pion and deliverer of my fatherland, and I have
been treated as its offscouring, to be cast out with
scorn and violence. I have been the idol of the
people, eulogised in their songs, greeted with their
loud acclaim, enveloped in the clouds of their
incense; I have been falsely denounced both as
which Bavid had never $een. 175
a traitor and a tyrant, and I have been hunted like
a partridge upon the mountains. I have drunk
the full cup of a conqueror's glory; I have tasted
the bitterness of exile, and have barely escaped
the martyr's death. I have lived in palaces; I
have had to hide myself in dens and caves of the
earth. 1 have had all things richly to enjoy, and
I have known what it is to eat one's last piece of
bread and not be able to tell whence the next meal
will come. I have been blessed by Samuel, and
cursed by Shimei. I have been the companion of
crowned kings and inspired prophets ; I have been
captain of a band of discontented men, with whom
debt and difficulty were the chief bond of union.
I have been borne to the throne by the enthusiasm
of a grateful people ; I have been driven from it
by a cruel rebellion, of which my own son was the
leader. The faithfulness and loving-kindness of
my God I have put to the test in all manner of
scenes and circumstances. I have tried the worth
of godliness always and everywhere. I have tried
it in prosperity and in adversity, in my father's
peaceful home, and amongst the uncircumcised
Philistines, in the time of my greatest popularity,
and in the season of my fiercest persecution. I
tried it in the noontide of my glory, when not one
dark cloud spotted my azure sky, and not one
forecast shadow of a coming trouble fell upon my
path ; I tried it in the midnight of my anguish,
when my crown was stolen from me, and my
favourite son was the thief, when the sword was
drawn against me, and my own son's was the hand
that plucked it from the scabbard. I tried it on
the top of my delectable mountains, where the
consciousness of grace received, and duty dis-
charged, and sin forsaken, and holiness acquired,
gave me rich foretastes of the bliss of paradise ;
I tried it in the time of my remorse, when the
prophet's parable awoke my slumbering conscience,
when the arrows of conviction pierced my spirit,
and when from my breaking heart there went up
the cry which brought back pardon and peace,
" Hide Thy face from my sins, and Hot out all mine
iniquities: cast me not away from Thy presence, and
which !auid had never $een. 177
take not Thy Holy Spirit from me! Is there any
extreme in human experience which is utterly
unknown to me ? Who has had a life richer than
mine in strange and strong- contrasts ? Yet in all
things and through all things and above all things,
I have found that the Lord is mindful of His own.
' I HAVE BEEN YOUNG, AND NOW AM OLD ; YET HAVE
I NOT SEEN THE RIGHTEOUS FORSAKEN, NOR HIS .SEED
BEGGING BREAD.' "
" Take thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place
whereon thou standest is holy ground ! " It be-
hoves us to bow ourselves before this aged man, and
to receive his testimony with the utmost confidence.
That which he passes on to us is no crude theory,
no empty bubble blown by mere conjecture ; it
is solid gold which has been tried again and again
in the crucible of life, and has come forth from
the fire seven times purified. If David had said,
" This is how I think it will be, and how I think
it ought to be," we might have been tempted to
reply, " Yes ! but things are often appallingly
different from our notions of what is likely and
N
178
right." But when he says, " This is what I have
observed during my long and eventful career,"
we must respond, " Thy words are weighty, thy
testimony is trustworthy." Next to inspired de-
clarations, we can have nothing more trusty than
the lessons of human experience extending over
a vast and varied range of events. History is
man's best book of prophecy. That which has
been, why should it not be repeated? Man's
necessities and God's nature are the same. He
who has hitherto cared for the righteous, and kept
their children from destitution, is He not the
Father of Lights, with whom is no variableness
nor shadow of turning ?
The fact of David's eminent fitness to bear
witness on this matter reminds us of one great
feature of the Bible. The message is always
sent by the right messenger. In every case the
words gather additional force and value from the
circumstances or the character of the man by whom
they were spoken. Words about the freeness
and fulness of pardon would have been quite as
which $avid had never $een. 179
true, but they would have been less weighty, if
they had been spoken by those who showed no
deep sense of the greatness of man's guilt. Isaiah
and Micah make glorious declarations concerning
the riches of Divine forgiveness, and their assur-
ances are all the more encouraging to the penitent
because both of them paint most appalling pic-
tures of human depravity and defilement. The
Apostle Paul says that earthly afflictions are light
and momentary, and that heavenly bliss is an
exceeding and eternal weight of glory. This
estimate of the sorrows and troubles of the pre-
sent life would have been scorned and repudiated
by woe-stricken people if it had been put forth
by a man who personally knew little of affliction.
What force there is in the Apostle's words to those
who remember that he who talked thus of burdens
being light and lasting only for a moment, did
himself endure enough to make a man a martyr
ten times over ! The human element in the Bible
neither dims the brightness nor impairs the power
of the Divine element. On the contrary, God in
N 2
180
His thoughtful love chose such channels for the
transmission of the waters of life, that to us
men they are all the more sweet and refreshing
because of the particular human courses along
which they flow.
From the capacity of the witness we now turn
to see the meaning of his testimony. The first
part of it is not difficult to understand or to
receive : " I HAVE NOT SEEN THE RIGHTEOUS FOR-
SAKEN." David could not say he had never seen
a good man in straits and difficulties, for his own
godliness had not kept him free from such things.
He had seen the righteous heavily burdened, but
he had never seen him left to carry his woe without
sympathy or succour from his God. He could not
say that he had never seen a good man in sorrow
and darkness, for, in the days of its greatest vigour
and purity, his own goodness had not secured
him immunity from grief and gloom. Death had
come into his house, and he had laid his loved
ones in the grave. He had been almost wrecked
on trouble's stormy sea, and had cried out to God,
which Bavid had never $een. 181
" All Thy waves and Thy billows have gone over
me." But he affirmed that in his greatest ex-
tremities a good man can say, " The Lord of hosts
is with me, the God of Jacob is my refuge. Yea,
though I walk through the valley of the shadow of
death, I will fear no evil ; for Thou art with me,
Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me." David
had seen the good man forsaken by his fellow-
men, but even then he could say, " I am not
alone." He had seen the righteous when his
own flesh and blood turned against him, and
when, through the power of popular clamour,
even parental love had been somewhat impaired.
He had never seen the good man when he could
not say, " Though father and mother forsake me, the
Lord will take me up." He could not say he
had never seen the righteous fall away from
his steadfastness and wander from duty, for
he himself had broken through the fences of the
law and had madly gone astray. But even in
such unworthiness and disgrace he had not been
forsaken. In his very wanderings the goodness
182
and mercy of the Lord followed him and brought
him back, and put into his lips the song" which
fallen angel has never been able to sing, " He
restoreth my soul, He leadeth me in the paths of
righteousness for His name's sake"
Within the limits of this lower creation, is not
a good man the noblest work of God ? Does not
God, speaking of Himself after the manner of
men, affirm that He has all a workman's fond-
ness for His own handiwork, and all a parent's
love for His own offspring ? " But now thus saith
the Lord that created thee, and He that formed thee,
Fear not ; thou art mine. When thou passes/ through
the waters I will be with thee. I'have made, and I
will bear, even I will carry and will deliver you."
For the production and preservation of the
righteous, what cost and care have been ex-
pended ! Wherever we see true human good-
ness, we may fearlessly assert that for its creation
and development, God has spoken by His pro-
phets, He has ruled in His providence, He has
wrought by His Spirit, and He has suffered in
which Bavid had never $een. 183
the person of His Incarnate Son. This should
suffice to assure us that the righteous shall never
be forsaken by their Creator and Redeemer.
True love is not exhausted by labour. The love
which has done but little for the loved ones may
dwindle and die, but diligent and self-denying
lov^ is nourished by its own toils and sufferings.
Yea, instead of being the destroyer of love, hard
work is often the creator of love. When the
motherless babe is left alone in the world, you do
not, as you put it into the arms of a woman who is
a stranger, bid her love it as if it were her own.
You know it is useless to command affection ; and
therefore all you do is to make the stranger
promise that she will work for the little one and
watch over it. That is enough ! If you can secure
the work, you may be certain that the affection
will follow. The daily labours and the nightly
watchings for which you pay will sooner or later
create the fondness you could not purchase in any
market in the world; and the one and only woman
on whom you may rely to love the child as its
184 ^Jhe ^5wo ^Jhings
own mother would have loved it, is the woman
who has tended it and toiled for it, who has had
to bear with all its fretfulness and waywardness,
and to be perpetually on the alert to guard it
against danger and to satisfy its wants. It is a
glorious fact in the history of the human heart,
that in thousands of instances a mother-like love
has sprung out of mother-like work. Was not
the heart in which this is possible created in the
image of God ? Whenever we see human loving-
kindness strengthened instead of exhausted by its
own efforts and sacrifices, do we not behold a
faint trace of the Divine image, a dim revelation
of the glory of God's grace ? We can say that
Christ wrought and suffered for us because He
loved us ; may we not add that, if it were possible
for His love to be increased, He would love us
all the more because of what He has done and
endured for us ? If human love is too strong
for work to wear it out, we may be assured that
Divine grace cannot be destroyed or enfeebled by
its own labours. St. Paul did not say : " He
which $avid had neuei' $een. 185
that has given us so much, how can we expect
Him to give us any more ? He that has done
so much for us, how can we think He will do any-
thing more?" The Apostle's argument was the
reverse of this, for he felt that faith is reason
when, on the ground of what has already been
done, the thought of desertion is rejected, and the
continuance of God's presence and blessing is
confidently expected. " He that spared not His own
Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He
not with Him also freely give us all things?"
There is great force in the prayer which it is
said was frequently used by Queen Elizabeth, " O
Lord, look at the wounds in Thy hands, and then
Thou wilt not forsake the work of Thy hands."
The same plea is urged in the " Dies Irse:"
" Jesus, Lord, my plea let this be,
Mine the woe that brought from bliss Thee ;
On that day, Lord, wilt Thou miss me ?
" Wearily for me Thou soughtest,
On the cross my soul Thou boughtest ;
Lose not all for which Thou wroughtest."
Can there be more than one answer to that
1 86 ^he ^iro ^hings which !E)avid had never $een.
appeal ? Is it not predicted that His love and
labour are not to be wasted, but that He is to
see of the travail of His soul and be satisfied ?
" The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me ; Thy
mercy, O Lord, endureih for ever ; forsake not the
works of Thine own hands." HE HATH SAID, I WILL
NEVER LEAVE THEE NOR FORSAKE THEE. It is not
strange then that, though David had such a varied
experience and such a wide field of observation,
he could say, " I HAVE BEEN YOUNG AND NOW AM OLD,
YET HAVE I NOT SEEN THE RIGHTEOUS FORSAKEN."
IX.
THE TWO THINQ3 WHICH D>WID
HAD NEVER gEEJM.
PSALM xxxvii. 25.
I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous
forsaken, nor his seed begging bread."
THE TWO THINGS WHICH DAVID HAD
NEVER SEEN.
r I "HE piety which Divine power creates, Divine
-* g-oodness doth richly recompense. It is
ignorantly supposed by some that to speak of the
rewards of human conduct is to imply the exist-
ence of human merit. They forget that what
man's godliness may deserve is one thing, and
what God in His love will give to it is another
and a very different thing. It is true that the
possession of holiness increases the obligations
rather than the claims of men, for in every case
it is the work and gift of God; yet, in the abun-
dance of His mercy, He rewards it as fully as if
it were highly meritorious on man's part. Hence
in the af
ion t
and
' J
line
bein
iconse.uence
! The
f, Paris t
__
WTJKS s.iupjaq srq aoj oA't:Ma?3O o? pa
2nupj IBUOISBODO aq? ?vq? pa?B?s si
uirep imo siq no aures aq? ?unoosflii^
IBU UMO siq ppu pjnoo eq '{jiq aq? jo uoissassod paiire:
SUB.MS B ji -uiiq A"q ut pajt'y eq o? aeAuup aq? jo du
? SniA'eaj A"pqsijooj, ^nq 'ssoaon ffuauiasaopuo aq^. q^iAi sa;
iaooB Sni^sod ' m !jiuiuioa Xaq; joaia eq^ oq. H3iu'pioa
B aq^. s[pa siwij, aq^. jo ^uapuodsaaaoo ^
ii'OOS si JJJOM eq? jo ?soo pa!jmt!isa eqx 'ssijB^g pa^v to .13^;
? ui pun aq^ jo aan^oTij^ saqaiq puooas aq? aq H;M i \ IQJ ^
JOGI'T J I^Snai v aAtsq ni^ qoiqM "Bqosauuiw 'snodc ; ^Sr\oi H A II
5I\t fjis iddississij\[ aq? SSOJOB Andmoo aSpua aaotnia) ^mnun
? ^q UMOjq? aq o? (jnoq^ BI aSpuq ^UAk[i3j uoai u^ aSu B j
uiiu jo a^jaA aq? uo A[?uanbasuoo BJB ^?mnxnuioo ^ jinsnn
t{? pua *sunuBS[njf eq? jo noissioued aq? ?noq?iM ap paa^'j
puis av uo Xiat'o o? paAiojjB ?ou eau ^aq? ?i!q? q?" il >-
u?8s''['8jea30-sinsuoo uSiaaoj aq? o? uo;?i?ad v pe?? e 'sai
c aA^q 'Bueuinog uaa?s;>[ jo s?u / E?iq i equi jjaaag eq v - e n^si
sSauoq?^ asaq? inoq?iA sauo qsn^ ^
uo eq? aq HIM. .i3?saojo^ P 11 ' 6 uopno'j jo sasaooip ' 'qo
ao pioqo? ve'juosuoosBif pjojajan jo doqsig aq? s'B '^ ^
% pu 1% aaquia?das oo aouaaajaof) u^saooifj v Sutp g -^i
uoi?ua?ni Biq paounouuB siiq OT'eqanQ jo dbqs;a q\^ wates, Divine
^nse. It js
SUTM Maa v pu '?qSia-^?jg si uoi?n?i?sm aq? ui
ja'qranu aS^aaAB aqjj, 'OOO'l? } ootre^q B O'T
q? pa?ij?s SM ?i naq 'XBsjn uo 'X.ia ?u
a" '?soi
mbua m paaapao eABq
pas '^q?iq',5
?BaaB
sapnpui ?t
aqs eouis jo
>ub .vPeak of the
c x- r
ni eq? <-*7ly the exist-
- a
,
WIJclL
,
<iDOtner
aaqranu
\jq o?
ovj aq? sv afqBi[JBUiaj os
A\aa aq? o? p8oin?aj t g
pu paapunq eUj Tue that the
paddo?s n
eq psddiqs Suiaq a.i9A4 qotqM EaoSxeo ^aeA8s pUB 'pa?' ne oblifrations
id uaaq s'^q eoB[d ?\!q? luoaj a]??BO jo ?aodxa eq? 'Bit ,
aad-oanaid eq o? 'asiiapo wau 'uaun^ ni uurej v no in everv rasp
esrjasip eq? paJTJpap SaiABq s?jadx , *
^ '-o^
. f
ds
IT
nence
I SuipiAOid aq 'rannnt? aad 00'T3' s !
'V -JM jo q?Bap eq? vCq pMnu B8M ?sod qoiqM 'xfljif a f ,, . f
UA\OX oq o? (?.iodq?nog jo Jiaajo nMojJ uo?j' 3 UJ V ds
H MK paauiodde a A q ipunoo UAVOX x^ji^H 9I li
aug ^ifBuo^daox-a aq o? sosimo.icf
d oreu<E3Ttreg
19
while as a matter of human merit our godliness
may be entitled to nothing-, as a matter of Divine
mercy it is entitled to "all things," and is en-
couraged by the "promise of the life that now
is, and of that which is to come." One chief
object of this psalm is to set forth some of the
blessings secured to the good man, and thereby
to show the superiority of his position, even in
this world, over that of his ungodly neighbour.
Amongst the manifold advantages of godliness,
David gives prominence to this : it promotes the
temporal prosperity of the children of its pos-
sessor. To such an extent does it do this, that
in all his long life and chequered experience
David had never seen the seed of the righteous
begging bread. He had seen them in straits and
difficulties, but never in deep and continued des-
titution. For their fathers' sake they have been
so favoured by God and by men as to be kept
from utter and abject want. While David speaks
of his own observation only, he would evidently
have us to understand that what he had noticed
which $axrid had never $een. 191
was not exceptional, but in harmony with the
general course of things. Always and every-
where it may be expected that a good man's
spiritual excellence will bring temporal blessings
to his children, and some of the rich rewards of
his piety will fall into the lap of his posterity.
In support of this position, explicit declarations of
Scripture and Divine promises can be quoted. How
frequently Abraham was encouraged by the as-
surance that the blessings wherewith his faith and
obedience were to be crowned should descend to
his posterity ! In behalf of consistent piety the
appeal was made to his parental affection as often
as it was made to his lawful self-love. The pro-
mise of good repeatedly ran thus : " To thee
and to thy seed after thee." In the iO2nd Psalm
the eternity of God is set forth in contrast with
the perishableness of the heavens and the earth,
and from the fact of His unchangeableness this
consolatory conclusion is drawn : " The children
of Thy servants shall continue, and their seed shall
be established before Thee." In other forms the
same truth frequently appears. " What man is he
that feareth the Lord? His soul shall dwell at
ease, and his seed shall inherit the earth. Blessed
is the man that feareth the Lord, that delighteth
greatly in His commandments. His seed shall be
mighty upon earth. The generation of the up-
right shall be blessed. He will bless them that
fear the Lord, both small and great. The Lord
shall increase you more and more, you and your
children. The mercy of the Lord is from ever-
lasting to everlasting upon them that fear Him,
and His righteousness unto children's children ;
to such as keep His covenant, and to those that
remember His commandments to do them." It
could have been no surprise to David to find the
children of the godly kept from those depths of
poverty into which others were plunged. He was
prepared for such preservation, and when he wit-
nessed it, he could joyfully exclaim, " This is just
like the mercy of the Lord. It answers to His
word. He is faithful that hath promised." Had
he not God's authority for declaring that a good
which $avicl had never $een. 193
man's piety shall tell with beneficial power upon
the circumstances of his descendants to the second
and third generations, and that some of the
Divinely appointed rewards of it shall be reaped
by those who arise to bear his name and bless his
memory, long-, long- after he has passed out of this
mortal toil and strife into the peace and rest of
heaven ?
The world is full of proof that a bad man's bad-
ness is a hindrance to, and a blight upon, the pros-
perity of his children. Tens of thousands can be
found, housed in poverty, clad in rags, steeped
in ig-norance, destitute of all bright prospects for
this life ; and no one can question that the folly
and vice of their parents have been the fount
and origin of their want and wretchedness. Of
the multitudes of children now living in our work-
houses the big, cold homes which law has built
for those for whom love has made no provision
there are many who inherit the pauper's hard
lot because of calamities which could not be fore-
seen or averted : but a far larger number are
o
there simply and solely through the sins of those
who, having- brought them into being, ought
to have been as ministering angels spreading
sheltering wings around them. In the filthy pur-
lieus of all our great cities there are hosts of
little ones of whom, despite all human neglect,
it is, thanks be to God, still true that their angels
always behold the face of their Father in heaven.
But the dawning day awakes them to hunger and
filth and terrible temptation ; and when night
wears towards its noon, they crawl into resting-
places scarcely fit for a wild beast to lie down in.
How does all this come to pass in a land of
Christian light and almost fabulous wealth? In
the great majority of cases there is but one ex-
planation : " The fathers ate sour grapes, and the
children's teeth are set on edge"
The constancy and the rigorousness with which
this law operates in relation to evil, should assure
us that it works with equal regularity and power
in relation to good. We find that, under the
government of an infinitely wise and gracious God,
which 'Bavid had never $een. 195
it is impossible for a man to be a bad man without
thereby darkening- the prospects and hindering the
prosperity of his children. Under this same rule,
must it not be at least equally impossible for a
man to be a godly man without thereby brighten-
ing- the prospects and promoting the prosperity
of his children ? Who can believe that the God
who is Love has ordained and keeps in action
a law which is more constant and mighty in
cursing wickedness than in blessing righteousness ?
It is plain enough that He has made the relation
between parent and child a free and open channel
for the transmission of some of the sad conse-
quences of evil doing. It would be blasphemy
to believe that the channel is not as broad and
unobstructed when some of the rewards of well-
doing would flow from sire to son. Is not judg-
ment His strange work, and mercy His delight ?
What is the first glimpse of God in relation to
man which the inspired history gives us? We
do not see Him planting a wilderness with thorns
and briers for the punishment of man's disloyalty
o 2
196 ^he 5uto
and transgression. He appears preparing- and
perfecting- a paradise for the home of man's inno-
cence and the reward of man's obedience. In all
its subsequent revelations the Word shows that
His joy is not to threaten, but to promise ; not to
destroy, but to save. The tears that Jesus wept
over the coming doom of Jerusalem, were they not
the tears of " God manifest in the flesh," a revelation
of the Divine heart, and of the deep grief which
is there when woe and curse have to be inflicted ?
The more we know of God, the more confidently
we must come to the conclusion, that every new
fact which shows He is still fulfilling His reluctant
threatening, and " visiting the iniquities of the fathers
upon the children" is a fresh proof that the corre-
sponding promise can never fail. Whether we
can discern it or not, it must be true, that to those
who fear Him the mercy of the Lord is ever-
lasting, and HlS RIGHTEOUSNESS IS UNTO THEIR
CHILDREN'S CHILDREN.
The history of David's posterity furnishes some
striking facts in proof of his declaration. He served
which Bavid had never $een. 197
his generation according- to the will of God, and
then fell asleep. Long- after he slept .with his
fathers, it went well with his children for his sake.
Both his son and his grandson found the Divine
remembrance of his piety coming- as a shield
between them and the strokes of punishment
their sins had provoked. Solomon's consistency
perished in the midst of his great prosperity.
" He stood the storms when waves were rough,
But in a sunny hour fell off,
Like ships that have gone down at sea,
When heaven was all tranquility."
He broke his vows, polluted the holy city with
heathen abominations, and again corrupted the
people whose purification had required so much
of fiery trial. He richly deserved to lose the regal
power which he had learnt to abuse so fearfully ;
but when, on account of his own sins, he ought to
have been stripped of his splendour, he was suf-
fered to wear it still because of the saintliiiess
of his departed father. The Lord said, " / will
not take the whole of his kingdom out of his hand,
198
but I will make him a prince all the days of his life,
FOR DAVID MY SERVANT'S SAKE, BECAUSE HE KEPT MY
COMMANDMENTS AND MY STATUTES." Rehoboam CEITIC
to the throne, and speedily made it clear . that
he was the son, not of the first and wise, but
of the second and foolish Solomon. He was
a sorry specimen of parental training, and serves
to show that Solomon could write much better
than he acted in relation to the bringing- up of
children. In one period of his life Solomon gave
most godly counsel, and at another period he set
a most ungodly example. It was then as it has
-been ever since, the good advice was no match
for the bad example, and with the latter the
power and the victory went. There would have
been little room for wonder, and less for com-
plaint, if Rehoboam had lost his kingship alto-
gether. He would have lost it wholly if God
had not dealt graciously with him out of regard
to his godly ancestor. The promise was fulfilled,
" He shall have one- tribe FOR MY SERVANT DAVID'S
SAKE."
which !ts)avid had never $een. 199
The instincts and practices of men support the
assertion that a good mans children will be succoured
for his sake. The family of Saul passed through
strang-e vicissitudes. In the time of difficulty and
distress they were helped because of Jonathan's
good name and fragrant memory. When amidst
the successes and popularity of the new royal
house, the members of the discrowned family
were so likely to be forgotten, they were pre-
served from that bitterness, for David said, " Is there
yet any that is left of the house of Saul, that I
may show him kindness for Jonathan 's sake?" The
poor crippled son of the dead saint was brought
out of his obscurity and poverty and made to
dwell like a prince in the palace, and for many
years the " kindness of God " was shown unto
him by David. This is not cited as a proof of
eminent saintliness or extraordinary generosity
on the part of David. It was only an act of
simple humanity, and hearts not specially touched
by the grace of God would most likely have been
prompted to a similar course. There are many
who are now receiving the bounty of this nation,
awarded to them not for their own sakes, but
for the good character or services of their kin-
dred. Sons and daughters of men of art, or
science, or literature, are placed on the pension
list as a tribute to the memory and as an acknow-
ledgment of the labours of their fathers. There
are circumstances under which the most rigid
republican and economist could scarcely object to
the bestowment of hereditary honours and endow-
ments. When our Indian Empire was all but
plucked from our hands, there was one whose
heroism, combined with holiness, touched the
people into a perfect enthusiasm of gratitude ;
but it was soon found, to the sorrow of the
nation, that he had passed beyond the reach
of its praises, and had been called by God to
receive such a crown as earth can never give.
Who thought of objecting when some of the
rewards were bestowed on his son ? It was felt
by all to be a right thing to honour the piety
and patriotism of the good man in the circum-
which itDauid had never Seen.
stances of his children. To how many young-
men the sympathy, and confidence, and kindness
secured for them by their father's piety have been
a large part of their capital, by the wise invest-
ment of which they have made ample fortunes.
How often, when the prodigal's own conduct has
power only to excite indignation and shut men's
hearts against him, they cannot refuse all help
to him because the image of his sainted father
comes before their minds !' We might not be
able to justify this in every case by a series of
elaborate arguments ; but, in relation to many
things, we deem our instincts to be as safe a
guide as our reason ; and our best instincts are
strongly in favour of helping the seed of the
righteous for the sake of the righteous.
The experience of multitudes who are enjoying
prosperity may be cited in support of the Psalmist's
declaration. If they had not been favoured with
godly parents, they would not have had that
preparation for the race, and that fair start,
which have helped them to reach the goal. How
many there are to whom, in one respect, it is
an easy thing- to obey the Master's bidding- about
taking- no anxious thought for the morrow !
Their morrow is, as to worldly good, so well
provided for, they have no temptation to be over-
careful about it. They owe this largely to the
g-odliness of those who went before them. True
religion came into the homes and hearts of their
ancestors, and became the foremost labourer in
laying the foundations and raising- the super-
structure of that palatial prosperity in which they
now dwell. What thousands there are who, as
they rest in the peace, and revel in the brightness,
and rejoice in the plenty, wherewith their homes
are filled, must exclaim, if they will tell all the
truth, "It would not have been thus with us if
there had not been fathers to pray for us, and
to bequeath to us the inheritance of their good
name ! " You think of the companions of your
childhood who are your companions no longer.
Differences in circumstances, and still greater
differences in character, have made a gulf between
which 39avid had never $eeii. 203
them and you, across which you and they never
grasp hands and greet one another for the sake
of "auld lang syne." You went to the same
school with them ; you played in the same streets ;
you rambled with them through field and wood-
land; and were wild with the same joy when
spring-tide came to clothe the earth with beauty
and flood the air with song. What then has
wrought to make your present destiny so unlike
to theirs? One great cause of the difference is
found in the fact that when nightfall came you
went to a home very unlike to theirs. They had
no holy atmosphere surrounding their childhood.
They had no godly mother to take them to her
knees and tell them of Him who blessed the little
ones. They had no godly father whose character
lifted them into a better position, and opened up
for them pathways to prosperity. These mercies,
denied to them, were granted to you ; and that
is one chief reason why the stream of your life
has had such a different course from theirs, and
has of late years flowed through the midst of a
204
fertile and felicitous region whose remotest bor-
ders the streams of their lives have never once
skirted ! The blessing- that comes from a godly
ancestry has been with you all your days, and
your history is one long proof that a good man
leaves an inheritance to his children's children.
This truth should remind us of the debt we owe
to godliness. It has unquestionably brought to us
many of the blessings of this life. It has placed
us on vantage ground, multiplied our opportunities,
and facilitated our successes. It has claims upon
our service and our self-denial which ought to be
irresistible. We should deem no sacrifice too
great to be made in its interests. Few things are
to be more reprobated than the conduct of those pro-
sperous people who faithlessly forsake and flippantly
sneer at the religion to which, in the lives of their
ancestors, they owe their wealth and position. By
many young men, proud of the money which other
people gained for them, it is thought to be a great
mark of superiority to disdain the community and
the church wherein their fathers secured and sus-
which Bavid had never $een. 205
tained the godliness which had so much to do
with their secular success. If, before they thus
scorn religion, these young men would strip them-
selves of all that which, by God's blessing, they
owe to it, they would have little wealth left for the
nourishment of their pride ; and some of them
would soon have to inquire for the residence of
the relieving officer of their parish.
The truth David brings before us should guide
us in the action of our parental affection. We
often ponder and plan and toil for the welfare
of our little ones, when, if we were alone in the
world, we should forego labour and take our ease.
There is one way wherein we can, without fail,
promote their prosperity : it is by the careful cul-
ture of our own piety. Lawful self-love and paren-
tal love need not impel us in different directions.
We need not wish ourselves accursed for our chil-
dren's sakes. The nearer to God we rise, the more
like Christ we live, the holier men and women we
become, the more certainly we shall secure bless-
ings for those who will bear our names and stand
206
in our places when our bodies sleep in the dust.
It is as strange as it is true, that many parents are
tempted to 'do inconsistent and un-Christian things
with the hope of thereby promoting the temporal
welfare of their children. Numbers who have
made shipwreck of conscience would never have
done dishonourable and dishonest things for the
sake of bettering their own circumstances. It was
for their children they did them. Their sons had
social aspirations, and their daughters had costly
tastes, which they were anxious should be realised
and gratified ; and in their fondness they went
astray, and lost their own characters in their en-
deavours to benefit their children. Whoever does
an ungodly thing, or a questionable thing, from
such a motive, violates true expediency as well as
sound principle. The blunder is almost as big as
the sin, when the saintly consistency of the parent
is sacrificed on the altar of the child's secular
prosperity. In Sir Thomas More's .days there
were judges who sold justice; but in his greater
wisdom he said to his family, " For your sakes
which )avid had never $een. 207
I must be an honest man, that I may leave you the .
rich inheritance of a father's good name."
Children, as well as parents, may learn their duty
from this truth. Too frequently by their foolish
ambition, and by hankering after greater show
and luxury, they become tempters to their fathers.
They help to widen the expenditure till it becomes
increasingly difficult to provide things honestly.
They create the supposed necessities to meet
which parents make haste to be rich, and fall
into many a hurtful snare. Amongst the shat-
tered reputations over which one has had to
mourn, not a few have been thos& of professedly
Christian fathers, to whom the extravagant habits
and tastes of their children became a hundred-
handed devil, pushing them further and further
away from rectitude into ruin. For their own
welfare's sake, children should do all they can
to encourage their parents in the culture of all
Christian nobleness and the maintenance of all
godly consistency. When the parent fails in
righteousness, the children must, suffer loss. It
ao8 (phe ^5wo things which $avid had never $cen.
shuts them out from all share of the hope and
joy inspired by this teaching- of experience : " I
HAVE BEEN YOUNG, AND NOW AM OLD; YET HAVE I
NEVER SEEN THE RIGHTEOUS FORSAKEN, NOR HIS SEED
BEGGING BREAD."
X.
THE "l^JST WORD3" Of D>WID.
2 SAMUEL xxiii. 15.
" Now these be the last words of David. David the son of Jesse said,
and the man who was raised up on high, the anointed of the God of Jacob,
and the sweet psalmist of Israel, said, The Spirit of the Lord spake by me,
and His word was in my tongue. The God of Israel said, the Rock of
Israel spake to me, He that ruleth over men must be just, ruling in the
fear of God. And he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun
of the earth by clear shining after rain. Although my house be not so
with God ; yet He hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in
all things, and sure : for this is all my salvation, and all my desire, although
He make it not to grow."
THE "LAST WORDS" OF DAVID.
A CCORDING to a commonly received inter-
*^ > pretation of this passage, David mourned
over the ungodly state of his children, but exulted
in the assurance of his own personal salvation.
He first repeated the description he had received
from the Lord of the character which kings and
rulers should maintain, and it is supposed that he
next lamented the fact that his children did not
answer to the Divine ideal. It is further supposed
that his sorrow on account of their shortcomings
instantly gave place to grateful joy in the hope
that, through the mercy and faithfulness of God,
he himself should be secure and blessed for ever.
It might go ill with his children, but it would be
well with him. They were godless, but he would
p 2
ie " Last fjords" of
none the less receive grace. " Although my house
be not so with God, yet He hath made with me an
everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and sure"
There are well-known facts in David's history
which may seem to lend some sanction to this
interpretation. His family troubles were great and
many. Some of his children were anything but
what his conscience could approve and his heart
could desire. They were thorns in his side and
arrows in his heart. Their wickedness must have
embittered his cup for years, and have flung over
his path a gloomy shadow which reached down
to the grave. He had long and repeated expe-
riences of the truth of the proverb : " A foolish
son is the calamity of his father" As he thought
of Amnon and Absalom and Adonijah, he might
well exclaim : " My house is not with God as it
ought to be ! " Still, is it not incredible that
David, as he contemplated the lost condition of
his children, could instantly get comfort by think-
ing of his own safety ? He was sometimes sadly
unlike his true self, but assuredly he was never
Last Mords" of l^awd. 213
so unlike himself as to say in effect, " My children
may perish, but, the Lord be praised, I shall get
to heaven myself ! " This must be deemed impos-
sible to David, even by those who take the worst
view of his conduct in the matter of Uriah the
Hittite. Those who know most of the generous
and self-forgetting love which glows in the
parental heart, will be the first to acquit David
of that charge of intense selfishness which the
common interpretation of the passage implies
against him. They would be prepared to hear
the exclamation : " My hope is robbed of much of
its sweetness and power because my children are
not embraced by it. How can I be happy in the
prospect of a salvation from which those dearer
to me than my own life are to be for ever
excluded ? How can heaven be to me a place
of 'fulness of joy,' if all my loved ones are not
with me there ? " This is a mystery which only
the light and experience of eternity can make
clear. It has pressed with terrible power on the
hearts of saintly parents. And who can doubt
214 >he "&ast ^ords" of
that it often troubled the spirit of David also ?
How much he loved his children, yea, how he
prized their safety, if possible, more than his own,
is made manifest by that outburst of grief:
" my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom ! Would
God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son !"
There is another interpretation of the passage
which makes it chiefly and almost exclusively a
prophecy of Christ. It is supposed to regard Him
as the King ordained of God, and to describe the
perfection of His kingly character, the righteous-
ness of His rule, the benignity of His sway over
those who submit to it, and the destructive effects
of His sovereignty upon those who are rebellious
and disobedient. Those who adopt this interpre-
tation make certain changes in the translation of
the passage which remove from it everything like
lamentation on David's part :
" Is not my house so with God ?
For He hath made with me an everlasting covenant,
Ordered in all things and sure.
For it is all my salvation and all my desire,
Shall He not make it to flourish ?" FAIRBAIRN'S Typology.
&ast Mords" of Bavid. 215
According- to this translation David first describes
the regal perfection and glory of the Saviour, and
then rejoices in his own house (or dynasty) as
being in its righteous character and beneficial
influences an illustrious type of the Kingship of
Jesus. In favour of this rendering great names
may be quoted. It is free from the objections
which are so fatal to the commonly received inter-
pretation : and it will be especially grateful to
those who love to get frequent glimpses of Jesus
in the Psalms and Prophecies, and who, if they
are to err at all, would far sooner go astray with
those who find Him everywhere than with those
who find Him nowhere in the Old Testament.
There is a third interpretation according to
which David here sets forth the Divine ideal of
a ruler over men as he in early life received it
from the Spirit of the Lord. Now that he has
reached the close of his kingly career, he com-
pares that career with the description of a good
king which God had given to him, and he finds
that he has fallen far short of it. When he
216 fpe " &ast
speaks of his "house" not being- "so with God,"
he does not mean his domestic circle, but the
reigning- dynasty, and he refers, not to the godless
character of 'his children, but to the imperfections
of his own kingship. That had not been altogether
such as God had enjoined, and as he himself had
desired and determined. When he speaks of the
"covenant ordered in all things," he exults, not
in the thought that he is personally safe despite
the irreligion of his children, but in the assurance
that he shall be saved despite his shortcomings
and failures as a king. The mercy of God would
cover up all the imperfections and pardon all the
sins of his government. While considering that
the passage refers primarily and directly to David
and his history as the Lord's anointed, we need
not necessarily deny its Messianic character. Like
every other picture of human perfection, this
description of a perfect King was indirectly a
prophecy of Christ, and the glorious ideal was
fully realized, not in David, nor in Solomon, nor
in Hezekiah, but only in David's greater Son.
$he " Last Mords" of ftavid. 217
These "last words" reveal to us the lofty standard
of kingly character which was set before David
in early life. In the rejection of Saul there was
no arbitrary exercise of God's sovereignty. The
son of Kish was weighed in the balances and
found wanting. After his first great failure, the
long-suffering of the Lord gave him further trial ;
but he soon failed again most grievously, and
proved himself unfit for the throne. Like many
other monarchs, he found it easier to remember
that he was the king of the people than to re-
member that he was the servant of God. He
was bent on having his own way, and he would
wield his sceptre as if it were absolutely his own,
and not a trust that he had received from the
" King of kings and the Lord of lords." When
he first flagrantly failed, Saul was threatened that
a successor should be speedily found who would
be a man after God's own heart ; and when he
failed yet more flagrantly, the threat was executed,
and Samuel was sent to anoint one of the sons of
Jesse. We may be certain that when David was
218 $he " ast Mords" of Bavid.
set apart for the throne, he was not left in igno-
rance of the reasons of Saul's rejection. Samuel,
who knew the sad story so well, and was so much
grieved by it, would, with great pathos and power,
relate it to David, and warn him against the rock
of wilful disobedience on which Saul had suffered
shipwreck. The venerable prophet, whose patri-
otic zeal for Israel's welfare flourished in such
immortal vigour, would take pains to instruct
David as to the duties and responsibilities of the
kingly office, and would remind him that he might,
by disloyalty to God, or by injustice to the people,
forfeit the throne, even as Saul had lost it. After
he was anointed, David went back to the sheep-
folds, but, though he returned to his former occu-
pation for a season, he could not be forgetful of
his future destiny. He must have often 1 thought
of the greatness in store for him ; and doubtless
he often strove to realize what he should have to
be and to do when that promised greatness came
to him. We may lawfully suppose hat it was
when he was in one of these meditative moods
" of $avid. 219
that light from heaven came into his mind, and
he heard the Spirit of God speak to his spirit,
and tell him what kind of a king- he must be if
he would answer to the noble title given to him
when he was chosen "A man after God's own
heart." To some such revelation received in early
life he must have referred, when, in old age, he
exclaimed : " The God of Israel said, the Rock of
Israel spake to me, He that ruleth over men must be
just, ruling in the fear of God"
Righteousness towards men and reverence to-
wards God are named as the two great essentials
in a good king-. For lack of these, monarchs have
been curses instead of blessings, and peoples have
been oppressed, and kingdoms have been ruined.
But where the authority of God has been recog--
nized, and the rights of the people have been
respected, nations have flourished, and kings have
been a terror to evil-doers, and a praise to them
that do well. Stress is laid upon justice rather
than upon compassion, and history warrants the
emphasis. If there were more righteousness in
220 ^he " Last fe&ords" of &avid.
the world, there would be less need of charity.
" The acts of charity are, to a great extent,
counterworks to the operations of injustice. Let
all the debts of justice be by all men discharged ;
let every man be just to himself and to all others ;
and then the spirit of mercy will have little to do
but to look upon society with the smile of con-
gratulation." It should never be forgotten that
the favourite Scripture designation of a true saint
is "a righteous man." The justice of the king
is to be in association with the fear of God.
This last named virtue is the only one that
guarantees the perfection and permanence of all
the rest. It is the only legitimate master-principle,
and its presence and power secure that all other
excellences shall be in proper order and in due
proportion.
The benignant influence of a God-fearing and
righteous ruler is described in expressive figurative
language. Gladness and growth shall characterize
his reign, for " he shall be as the light of the morning,
when the sun ariseth, even a morning without clouds ;
Last fjords" of 3?)avid.
as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear
shining after the rain." Several years elapsed
before the throne promised to David came into his
possession ; and it is probable that this vivid pic-
ture of kingly perfection was also placed before
him some time prior to his accession. If so, how
often he would gaze upon it while he was waiting
for the kingdom, and what promises he would
make of conformity to it ! And when he wa^
actually seated on the throne, how frequently he
would recall the words of the Spirit, and assure
himself that they should be the law of his life down
to the last moment of the sceptre being in his
hands !
These last words reveal to us the sad conscious-
ness which David had in his old age, that the lofty
standard set before him in early life had not been
reached. His kingship was anything but a great
failure. He conducted the affairs of the kingdom
with much vigour and wisdom, and was instru-
mental in the fulfilment of many Divine promises,
and in the advancement of many Divine purposes,
222 ^he "Last Words" of
relating* to the chosen nation. He made six
thousand of the Levites officers and judges, and
systematically distributed them through the country
for the education and elevation of the people and
the better administration of justice."* It is said
that there is a proverb amongst, the Russians,
which is quoted when in the remoter parts of the
Empire justice is violated, oppression is practised,
and crimes are committed : " God is high, and the
Emperor is afar off." This proverb recognizes the
truth that wrong- and violence are likely to prevail
in any district in proportion to its distance from the
central seat of government. Against this danger
David made provision by sending- nearly half the
six thousand Levites, the "chief fathers," as they
were called, into that part of his kingdom which
lay on the other side of Jordan. f In i Chron.
xxvii. there is a list of officers appointed by David
to superintend and improve the agriculture of the
country, so that its material resources might be
fully developed and economically used. He cul-
* i Chron. xxiii. 4. + i Chron. xxvi. 32.
^hc " Last Wottds" of l&avid. 223
tivated friendly relations between his own people
and the Tyrians, in order to give the Jews a
knowledge of the higher and more refined arts
of civilised life. These facts show that while
David was essentially a military monarch, he did
not neglect home reforms for the sake of foreign
wars ; he subdued the enemies of Israel and took
full possession of the land promised to their
fathers, but, while he was extending the boundaries
of his kingdom, he looked well to its internal
arrangements. In promoting the civilisation and
providing for the political welfare of the people,
he did not forget that "righteousness exalteth a
nation," and that the Tightness of men toward
God is the great fountain of their Tightness toward
one another. He therefore paid attention to the
ecclesiastical arrangements of his kingdom, and
both by his psalms and his example he sought to
advance pure and undefiled religion.
It cannot be questioned, then, that David's reign
was a great blessing to the Jews, and that in the
review of his career there was much to inspire him
224 >he " >ast Words" of
with joy and thankfulness. It was unspeakably
superior to the reign of Saul, and would have
compared most favourably with that of any one
of his contemporaries. And yet the retrospect
could not give him perfect satisfaction. He wisely
abstained from comparing- himself with his pre-
decessor, or with the monarchs of surrounding-
nations. He did not give his conscience an unholy
comfort by saying that he was as good as his
neighbours. He looked at his kingly work in the
light of his own early aims and promises. Alas !
what a difference there was between his aspira-
tions and his achievements ! What a painful con-
trast between the hopes of youth and the memories
of old age ! He had to bow in penitential sorrow
as he exclaimed, " The good that I would, 1 have
not done." He tried his kingly work, not by the
low standard current amongst pagan kings, but
by the lofty standard the Judge of all the earth had
set before him. Alas ! what a difference between
the Divine ideal and the human reality ! When it
was seen in the twilight of human notions his
Words" of i&avid.
regal life mig-ht not only pass muster, but also call
forth applause. When it was seen in the strong
light of God's law the light that shall fall on all
human performances in the day of doom what
flaws, what stains, what defects, what deformities,
were visible! Then he had to confess failure and
to cry out, " My house is not so with God ! " He
had to deprecate judgment and appeal to mercy
" If Thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord,
who shall stand ? " It was then that he exclaimed,
" The limits of human goodness are very narrow,
and the requirements of Thy law reach far, far
beyond, into regions where the feet of man's
obedience have never yet travelled ! / have seen
an end of all perfection, but Thy commandment is
exceeding broad''
Earthly perfection is one of the pleasant dreams
of inexperience. It is generally the honest deter-
mination of young beginners to do very great
things, and they firmly believe that all their lofty
aspirations will be fully realised. This is one of
the illusions of life by which every new generation
Q
226 $he " Last Words" of Bavid.
is fascinated despite all the disappointments of
preceding- generations. Each fresh comer into
the field is blissfully forgetful of human frailties
and heroically defiant of difficulties, and nothing
but his own personal experience will be able to
shake his faith in the splendour of his future
achievements. He will not relinquish his belief
that perfection is to recompense his efforts until
repeated failures hurl to the dust the gorgeous pile
of his glowing- expectations. What man ever yet
accomplished all he purposed, either in relation to
personal improvement or Christian usefulness ?
Even the apostle who, by Divine help, did more
than most men to enrich the world, and lift himself
nearer to God, had to confess, in old age, that the
perfection to which he had aspired was still far
away. He had not either in holy beauty or be-
nignant influence made his life what, in bygone
years, he meant and hoped to make it.
There never lived but One in this world whose
review of His earthly life was free from all the
sadness which sight of fault and failure brings.
^he "Last Words" of Bavid. 227
When Jesus hung- upon the cross, He could think
of such a work as had never been devolved upon
man or angel, and of that matchless work He could
say, "It is finished!" He came into the world
with the most perfect ideal of what He should be
and of what He should do. He was all that He
purposed to be ! He did all He purposed to do !
Glorious Gospel truth, that His perfection is not
for our condemnation but for our justification ! By
the obedience of the One the many are to be made
righteous. Glorious Gospel hope, that His disciples
are to be conformed to His perfection in heaven !
In the better land David and all His other servants
shall have reviews of life furnishing materials for
joy, and praise, and confidence, and hope. The
grace of God, to which David turned for solace
when the thought of life's failures made him sad,
has pledged itself not only to forgive the earthly
past, but also to make perfect the heavenly future.
" As we have borne the image of the earthly, we
shall also bear the image of the heavenly." What
bliss there must be for those who have been for
228 ^he " Last lords' 1 of Bavid.
centuries in heaven, and whose memories, revisiting
centuries of celestial life and labour, find in them
obedience to every commandment, the fulfilment
of every early promise, and the accomplishment
of every high promise !- To that perfect life which
His love will give us beyond the grave, God's Word
directs the hope of every one who is troubled in
spirit and broken in heart by the memories of this
faulty life, and -who cries out in agony,
" When shall I, Lord, a journey take
Through my departed years,
And not a mournful visit make,
And not return in tears ? "
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