The Second Book of Samuel is devoted entirely to the reign of David. His coronation, first by Judah and then by all of the tribes, his wars and conquests, his care for the religious life of the people, his sins, and the calamities he suffered, are impartially set forth in vivid and convincing narrative.

“4 very notable thing in the books of Samuel,” says James Robertson, “is the prominence given to music and song. There is in these books an unusual number of poetical pieces ascribed to this period, and all the indications put together give ample justification for the fame of David as the sweet singer of Israel, and for the ascription to him of the origin of that volume of sacred song which never ceased in Israel, and has become embodied in the Psalms.”

2 Samuel 1: 1-16. The scene changes from Gilboa to Ziklag, whither the tidings were carried by an Amalekite. It is remarkable to notice how David received them. Though he had spent years in the rough life of a freebooter, surrounded by coarse and hardened men, he had not lost the delicacy and refinement of his earlier days. To men like Nabal, he seemed an outlaw; but those who were admitted to the inner circle of David’s friendship knew that there was a whole heaven of difference between him and the men who followed him. Let us see to it that by fellowship with God, we keep our nature uncontaminated by the world, its fine edge not blunted, its bloom not brushed off.

It was genuine grief that made David rend his clothes, and a genuine emotion of horror that led to the execution of this self-confessed regicide. Then from the depths of a guileless heart there poured forth the ‘‘Song of the Bow,’’ one of the noblest elegies in any tongue. Let us speak tenderly of the dead. Let God in his infinite pity judge them, while we scatter rose-leaves on their graves.

2 Samuel 1: 17-27. This noble poem is unrivaled. It is a perfect model of a funeral dirge. It is in poetry what Handel’s Dead March in Saul is in music. The psalmist is borne along both by art and affection. He could not have composed this song unless he had been a consummate artist, and unless he had drunk deep of that divine love which believes, bears, hopes and endures all things and never fails.

He forgets all that he has suffered. His love refuses

to consider anything but what has been pleasant and lovely in his liege lord. And for Jonathan there is a special stanza. A brother soul! The Philistines had felt David’s might, but his friend had tasted his sweetness! Terrible as a whirlwind in flight, yet winsome as a woman! But if human love can impute only good to those who are the objects of its affection, what will not God’s love say of us, feel toward us and impute to us! Here is a clue to the exceeding riches of the love with which he Loved us, even when we were dead in sins!

2 Samuel 2: 1-11. David’s habit of inquiring of the Lord was not discontinued when he ascended the throne. He allowed his steps still to be ordered by the Lord, who delighted in his servant’s way. From how many blunders might we be saved, if we leaned less on our own understanding and trusted him with all our hearts! Those who believe like this need not make haste.

This anointing in Hebron—the second in David’s life —is parallel with the unction of the Holy One received by our Lord on his ascension. ‘‘Having received of the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit,’’ said Peter on the day of Pentecost, ‘‘he hath shed forth this.’’ The house of Saul was still determined to rule. Its’ seat was across the Jordan. Is it not a type of the fashion of this world, which is destined to pass away? Between those who refuse and those who accept the Cross, with its separating death, there can be no peace. The war will be long and painful, but the result must end in the victory of the house of David, of which our Lord is both Root and Offspring, Rev. 22:16.

2 Samuel 2: 12-23, For seven and a half years David reigned over the house of Judah. He was in the prime of life, thirty years of age, and seems to have given himself to the consolidation of his kingdom and the

quiet sanctities of the home. He maintained through- ‘out those years that spirit of quiet expectancy of which his psalms so often speak. In this, he reminds us of our Lord, who is depicted as sitting at his Father’s side till his foes become his footstool.

From Hebron, the city of fellowship, bands of mighty men went forth to fight with Ish-bosheth, just as the warriors of the Cross have, in every age, gone forth to engage in deadly conflict with unbelief and sin. Asahel’s death reminds us of Stephen’s martyrdom. But the end is not yet! The Church’s warfare is not against flesh and blood, but against the wicked spirits that rule the darkness of the world. Her weapons, therefore, are not carnal but spiritual, and particularly that of ‘‘allprayer,’’ Eph. 6:10-20.

2 Samuel 2: 24-32. The longer the sword devours, the more bitter the hatred engendered. Early that morning, each of twenty-four young men had buried his sword in his antagonist’s heart; and, as the hours passed, the flame of mutual hate had become hotter. There was no telling to what it might lead. Hatred is like a prairie fire in its rapid spread and remorseless destruction.

When night fell, Abner, alarmed by the prospects of slaughter, asked Joab to stay the pursuit. Otherwise, Joab would have fought through the night. However, he drew off his men, and Abner, still dreading his wrath, by a forced march crossed the Jordan that night.

Abner’s reference to the insatiate lust of the sword for human life reminds us, by force of contrast, of the hunger of Christ to seek and to save that which is lost. His appetite to save is a consuming passion. It is his meat and drink to win souls to the eternal life that he is commissioned to impart.