days of Marathon and in days of Bunker Hill—and it always will be so. The men who win such victories may well be lauded. It was right that David's name should go into the ballads of his country and be repeated again and again to stir the heart of patriotism. Any man who can fight the battles of trade or of manufacturing or of invention—any man who can head a great industry, who can write a strong book, or who can make an eloquent speech—any man who conquers the difficulty of his position by skill and energy, and succeeds, has indeed won a great victory. For a mere shepherd youth to conquer a trained fighter was superb; and it is superb to-day when a poor boy honestly wins his way to wealth, and a stammering boy learns to speak like a Demosthenes, and a seeming dunce becomes a brilliant Scott. All soldiers conquering like Grant, all discoverers succeeding like Columbus, all investigators searching like Darwin and writing like Spencer, deserve crowns of recognition for victories they have won.

As a result of these two scenes in David's life many other scenes of a somewhat similar nature occurred. As occasions arose, David led many another attack upon the nation's foes. He possessed the rare power of creating a well-disciplined force out of outlaws. He so combined skill and leadership that none of the enemies of Israel could resist him. The story of his battles is a long and a glorious one. He was a fighter of whom the nation might be proud. If physical prowess and military skill and administrative force and legislative provision are essential to kingly success, he had them. Victory after victory, in all these lines, were written upon his banner.

But David's fame does not rest upon the victories he won over beast or fellow-man, interesting and great as these victories are. The reason that the Bible gives him the space it does, and the reason Christ is said to be David's son (though never the son of any other Old Testament hero), is because of the victories David won over himself. In the sphere of his own heart he found his greatest difficulties, for in that sphere he found his strongest foes; but in that sphere he wrought out his greatest victories. The best element in David's life is not his physical strength, not his intellectual skill, not his ability as a singer, a general, a judge, a builder, or a king, but the best element is his conquest of himself.

What a victory of magnanimity that was, when Saul, who was bitterly persecuting David, entered the cave in whose dark recesses David was concealed, and lay down for sleep! David had him in his power. He could have killed him instantly, and forever ended the persecution. He was even urged to do so by his followers. But he conquered his enmity, he looked upon the sleeping Saul with pity, and he left him unharmed. It is a mighty soul that can pity and forgive. Here was a king pursuing an innocent subject who had no other thought than of loyalty to his king—pursuing him relentlessly. The whole transaction on Saul's part was unjust and cruel. But David, deeply feeling the wrong he was suffering, crowded down the bitterness of his heart, and treated Saul magnanimously.

How many men, otherwise splendid men, have failed just here. They could fight bravely as sailors or soldiers, but later they could not treat a rival graciously. They could win successes socially or commercially or scholastically, but they became jealous of their places and their recognitions, and they wished no good to the one who in any way stood in their path. But David, knowing that he himself was anointed to be king, and that Saul's persecution of him was unjustifiable, still rose so far above all thought of preserving his own dignity and insisting on his own rights, that when his enemy lay helpless at his feet, he treated him with deference! Now we begin to see why David is called "a man after God's own heart." Was it because he could fight beast and man well? No; but because he could fight his own jealous, bitter heart and make it generous and kind and magnanimous.

What a victory of penitence that was when David sinned in the matter of Uriah and Bathsheba! He did sin. No one exculpates David. The Bible does not exculpate him, nor will any sane man exculpate him. He did a wrong that brought incessant sorrow on his heart and home. During all the remaining years of his life he had cause to regret his wrong. It might have been alleged that he did only what king after king, situated like himself in that Oriental land, with its despotic power and its manner of life, had done before him and would do after him. He might have justified himself by the custom of the day and by the prerogative of royalty. The probability is that he acted impulsively, allowing in an unguarded moment a wicked suggestion to conquer him. But when a prophet of God, Nathan, brought home to his soul the fact that he had sinned, what a victory that was, as the man fought down all the voices within him, calling to him to "brave it out," to "show no weakening before the prophet," to "justify himself to himself on the score of a king's right to do as he pleased," and in conquering these voices, humbled himself before God, making the one voice that triumphantly rose above every other voice the voice of penitence—"Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in Thy sight. Create in me a clean heart and renew a right spirit within me!"

There is nothing in our world that shows high victory better than penitence. Mankind does wrong. Sometimes it knows the wrong. Then perhaps it confesses its wrong in the hurried words, "I have sinned." So said Pharaoh, and immediately did again what he had done before. So said Saul, and never gave up the wrong that forced the confession from him. So said Judas, and went out to hang himself. But when David said it, he said it with a broken and a contrite heart. The man who having sinned conquers all the passion and pride of his soul and becomes a sweet, true, pure penitent is a victor over whom angels rejoice. Thousands of men who have made a success in their own field of labor fail to win life's best victories because they never bow before God and say, "Lord, be merciful to me a sinner." They are as stout-hearted as the Pharisee, and as self-deceived. They forget the bitternesses they have cherished toward their fellow-men, they overlook all the omissions of goodness that have marked their lives, they do not consider how terrible is their present and their past ingratitude to God for all His goodness to them, and so they lack that gentlest, most beautiful, and most exalting virtue of penitence.

What a victory of humility that was, when David, forbidden to carry out the supreme desire of his heart in the building of a temple, exerted all his power to help another to build it! The erection of a temple that should be the richest structure of its time was David's dream. It was to be the consummation of his effort. Enemies should be subdued, laws should be passed, government should be sustained, and foreign alliances made—all to this end. He looked forward to the day when the temple would crown Moriah, as the happiest day of his life. But God told him that another, not he, should build the temple, and that it would be known, not as David's Temple, but as Solomon's Temple. Should he then withdraw all interest from the undertaking? Should he say, "This is not my matter, it is another's; let another then carry its burden, as he will carry its glory." He was sorely disappointed. The one thing he had aimed to do was denied him. But he rose above his disappointment; he conquered it. He who was to take secondary place, threw himself into the help of him who was to have first place. He devised plans, he