for hungry men; but that same
fine common-sense told him that water procured at the risk of life, when
not actually wanted, had become sacred, and had better be turned into a
sort of prayer and offering to God than wantonly drunk.

And now, having the story well in mind, I will close by drawing out from
it one or two lessons that seem to me very practical.

Suppose we were to ask, Who acted in the noblest way--the three strong
men who got the water, or David, who made a sacrifice or libation of it?
It does not take us long to answer. The real greatness of the whole
affair was with the three men, though David put a beautiful meaning upon
it, and exalted it to its true place. Their act was very brave and
lofty; but David crowned it with its highest grace by carrying it on
into religion--that is, by setting it before God.

I see a great many people who are living worthy lives, doing a great
many kind acts and rendering beautiful services, but do not take God
into their thoughts, nor render their services as unto Him. I think
everybody must see that this act of these lion-faced men was more
complete when David took it before God than as rendered for himself.
Why, it might take long to tell; but, briefly, it was because the
nameless grace of religion has been added to it, and because it was
connected with that great, dear Name that hallows everything brought
under it.

Many of you have brought here offerings of flowers, sweet and fit for
this day and place and purpose. Some may have brought them simply with
the thought of helping out the occasion, or to please your teacher, or
because it is beautiful in itself to heap up beauty in this large way;
but if, as you worked here yesterday, or brought your flowers to-day,
your thoughts silently rose to God, saying, "These are for _Thy_
altars--this glory of tint and perfume is not for us, but for
_Thee_"--then, I think, every poet, every person of fine feeling, every
true thinker, would say that the latter is more beautiful than the
former. I hate to see a life that does not take hold of God; I hate to
see fine acts and brave lives and noble dispositions and generous
emotions that do not reach up into a sense of God; I hate to see
persons--and I see a great many such nowadays--striving after beautiful
lives and true sentiments and large thoughts without ever a word of
prayer, or thought of God, or anything to show they love and venerate
Christ. I hate to see it, both because t