Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. Then Jonathan and David made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul. And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was upon him, and gave it to David, and his garments, even to his sword, and to his bow, and to his girdle.

The conversation which conducted to this compact of unalterable friendship between the heir apparent of Israel's crown and the young shepherd who was destined to supplant him, is not given. But a dialogue like this might lead to it.

JONATHAN.

Come, step aside with me.

I wish to tell thee how I was delighted

In witnessing thy wondrous skill this day,

In contest with that monstrous Philistine.
The God of Israel bless thee and reward thee!

DAVID.

To Him be all the glory! He alone

Hath given us the victory.

JONATHAN.

Even so, David.

He only doeth wonders.

"Twas his hand

Which broke the power of Egypt, and led forth Our fathers from that house of grievous bondage; Led them o'er wild Arabia's sterile sands,

And brought their children to the flowery banks

Of Jordan's rolling waters, which he parted,

As at the sea of Egypt, to permit

His chosen tribes to pass, and enter in

This goodly land, with milk and honey flowing.

DAVID.

And then, my prince, what mighty deeds were done
By him who took the Prophet's place in Moab.
God wrought great wonders by him.

Oft has my father told me of that day

When the high walls of Jericho fell down

As smit by hand invisible, and the tale
Of the sun standing still on Gibeon.

And should not we, when dangers threaten us,
Trust in our father's God, whose powerful arm
Is not now shortened that it cannot save?

JONATHAN.

Yes, David. Thus it was, that when I thought
Of Him who can work all things, unrestrained
To save by many or by few, that I attempted,
Attended only by my armour-bearer,

BOYS OF THE BIBLE.

Saul, that the soul of Jonathan war
the soul of David, and Jonathan
his own soul. Then Jonathan a
a covenant, because he loved
soul. And Jonathan stripp

robe that was upon him, a
and his garments, even to
bow, and to his girdle.

The conversation wh

pact of unalterable f apparent of Israel' herd who was de given. But a di

Come.

I wish to

In witn

In co
The

THE BOY WE...

at the brook, rove myself,

1, at morn and eve,

til I found

tainty have hit it.

t how great the risk would be, as my death if I should fail,

ue back from venturing the trial.

every day the tidings reached our city

Of the

vain boaster's challenge, and the dread

which rested on the boldest in our hosts When they beheld the monstrous man walk forth, Clad in his brazen panoply. At length

ade me carry loaves and cheese
my brethren in the camp.
'ght I, and must I go?

's Philistine, and measure
Donderous proportions.
where to aim;

pon the rock.

vas God, my prince,

he deed.

noured thee

Sur of our land.

thoughts between ourselves

eart with such affection towards thee,

his day, if thou wilt pledge me too,

be friends for ever.

DAVID.

I, a shepherd-boy,

The friend of Israel's Prince! It cannot be.

JONATHAN.

It must: for I have never yet been favoured
To meet with one like-minded with thyself.
We must be friends for ever!-plight thy troth.
DAVID.

Alas! my prince, I fear thy noble frankness
Will be but ill repaid. I am unworthy.

And then I do remember

To scale the heights of Michmash, and drive out
The uncircumcised Philistines from their nest.
The God who strengthened Shamgar for the fight,
And gave to Samson his resistless strength,
Nerv'd my young arm with vigour, while the foe
Fell like ripe stalks of corn before the reapers,
Or fled like timid sheep before the lion,
Which swelling Jordan rouses from his ambush.
DAVID.

So was it Prince, with me. At Bethlehem
I heard of this proud challenger, and thought-
Oh had I him before me! Would he stand
Before that rock there, just about the height
That I have chalked upon it as a mark,

I would, with one smooth stone from out the brook,
Bring the big boaster down. To prove myself,
Since the last moon went down, at morn and eve,
I practised at the mark, until I found

I could with almost certainty have hit it.

But when I thought how great the risk would be,
How certain was my death if I should fail,

I shrunk me back from venturing the trial.
Yet every day the tidings reached our city
Of the vain boaster's challenge, and the dread
Which rested on the boldest in our hosts

When they beheld the monstrous man walk forth,
Clad in his brazen panoply. At length