DAVID, KING OF ISRAEL 15 blood. He had been a man of war from his youth. The temple on Mount Zion, a glittering mass of gold and gems, shining like a heap of snowflakes on the pilgrims going up to the annual passover, was to be the great trophy not of David's, but of Solomon's time. David acquiesced in the divine ordering, though with a sore heart. But he occupied himself with the accumulation of rich materials, so that when Solomon Came to the throne he might find much and valuable preparation made. The troubles of David's reign, gathering around him thickly, as the almond blossoms otf age grew white upon his head, were chiefly brought upon him through dissensions in his family. Did so loving a father spoil his sons in their early youth, or were they, as is probable, influenced by the spites, the malignities, and the weaknesses of the beautiful foreign princesses who were their mothers ? In the rebellion of Absalom, the king tasted the deepest draught of sorrow ever pressed to mortal lips, and the whole tragic tale is as vivid in its depiction, and as intensely real in its appeal to-day, as when fresh from the pen of the writer. The conduct of Absalom, whose beauty and vanity were equalled by his am- oition and his ingratitude, has made him forever infamous. He omitted no act that could convict him of shameless infidelity to all that was worthy a prince, and with an armed host he set his battle in array against his father. One charge, reiterated again and again, showed the depth of that father's heart a heart like that of the Father in Heaven for its yearning over ingrates and rebels : " Beware that none touch the young man Absalom ! " Joab, of all men in the realm, least afraid of David and most relentless when any one stood in his way, himself became Absalom's executioner, when, David's people being victors, Absalom hung caught by his hair in the boughs of an oak, unable to escape. Then it was a question who should tell the king these tidings, which dashed the hearts of the conquerors with a sudden pang. Finally a swift runner reached the watch-tower, whence the old king looked forth, awaiting news of the day. " Is the young man Absalom safe ? " he asked And Cushi answered, " The enemies of my lord the king, and all that rise against thee to do thee hurt, be as that young man is." " And the king was much moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept ; and as he went, thus he said ' O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom ! Would God I had died for thee, O Absalom my son, my son ! ' Long, long ago, these battles and sieges, these truces and victories, were over forever on this earth. Egypt and Assyria, contemporary with Israel in greatness, have perished from the memories of men, save as a few marbles remain to tell their tale. The vitality of David is imperishable, but not because he was a shrewd statesman, a doughty warrior, or a captain of conquering armies. David the shepherd, David the king, are of the past. David the musician, David the psalmist, is as alive to-day as he ever was, the music of his harp still vibrating in temples and cathedrals and in human souls. Those matchless hymns antedating our modern era by so many shifting centuries, are lisped by children at their
