disturbing an influence the
consciousness of it might have wrought in a soul less filled with God,
we may perhaps accept as probably correct the superscription which
refers one sweet, simple psalm to him, and may venture to suppose that
it expresses the contentment, undazzled by visions of coming greatness,
that calmed his heart. "Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes
lofty; neither do I exercise myself in great matters, or in things too
high for me. Surely I have smoothed and quieted my soul: like a weanling
on his mother's (breast), like a weanling is my soul within me." (Psa.
cxxxi.) So lying in God's arms, and content to be folded in His embrace,
without seeking anything beyond, he is tranquil in his lowly lot.

It does not fall within our province to follow the course of the
familiar narrative through the picturesque events that led him to fame
and position at court. The double character of minstrel and warrior, to
which we have already referred, is remarkably brought out in his double
introduction to Saul, once as soothing the king's gloomy spirit with the
harmonies of his shepherd's harp, once as bringing down the boasting
giant of Gath with his shepherd's sling. On the first occasion his
residence in the palace seems to have been ended by Saul's temporary
recovery. He returns to Bethlehem for an indefinite time, and then
leaves it and all its peaceful tasks for ever. The dramatic story of the
duel with Goliath needs no second telling. His arrival at the very
crisis of the war, the eager courage with which he leaves his baggage in
the hands of the guard and runs down the valley to the ranks of the
army, the busy hum of talk among the Israelites, the rankling jealousy
of his brother that curdles into bitter jeers, the modest courage with
which he offers himself as champion, the youthful enthusiasm of brave
trust in "the Lord, that delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and
out of the paw of the bear;" the wonderfully vivid picture of the young
hero with his shepherd staff in one hand, his sling in the other, and
the rude wallet by his side, which had carried his simple meal, and now
held the smooth stone from the brook that ran between the armies in the
bottom of the little valley--the blustering braggadocio of the big
champion, the boy's devout confidence in "the name of the Lord of
hosts;" the swift brevity of the narrative of the actual fight, which in
its hurrying clauses seems to reproduce the light-f