XXI.

Jonathan's Bow.

THERE is pathetic interest in this memorial of Jonathan, prince of Israel. When the mental eye rests on the unstrung bow once grasped in his strong firm hand, we recall the touching lament of David over him who fell on the mountain of Gilboa. "How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle! O Jonathan, thou wast slain in thine high places. I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan: very pleasant hast thou been unto me: thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women!"

There are few characters in the Old Testament that stand before us in more life-like reality than that of Jonathan, few that so much attract our sympathy and love. We think of him less as the hero, attacking almost alone the Philistine garrison, or falling, covered with wounds, at the fatal battle of Gilboa, as the faithful friend, in close communion with one whom he loved as his own soul. We think of him going forth into the field at Ramah with his bow in his hand, to give warning to David, then lying concealed behind the stone Ezel; sadness on the prince's brow, stern sorrow in his spirit, but unchanging love in his heart. Touching is the account of that stolen interview between the prince and his persecuted friend, when they kissed one another, and wept one with another, till David exceeded.

In the love between David and Jonathan we see an exquisite picture of what friendship should be; and as Jonathan's constancy was put to a far sharper test than that of the man whom he loved, let us for our own instruction examine a little into the leading characteristics of the friendship of the prince of Israel. There are few amongst us so desolate or so cold-hearted as not to have friendship for at least one being upon earth; let us now try its strength and its nature by comparing it with the deep, disinterested attachment of Jonathan for one who was preferred before him, one who was to supersede him, the shepherd lad who was chosen to sit upon the throne to which the king's son seemed the natural heir.

In the first place, Jonathan's friendship had a "religious basis," the only one which can ensure stability. It was when David had appeared before Saul as a conqueror through faith, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David. Theirs was peculiarly friendship "in the Lord." In the last solemn meeting which was ever to be theirs upon earth, when Jonathan by the wilderness of Ziph sought out David in the wood, he gave religious encouragement to his friend, he strengthened his hand in God.

Is not that friendship wanting in the noblest attribute of which the bonds only regard this brief state of being? Are we indeed friends to those with whom we never interchange thoughts on the highest subjects, those whom we have never made the slightest attempt to draw closer to the Lord? Affection is a most powerful lever; have we made use of it to elevate the character of those whom we love? Or do we flatter their foibles, foster their vanity, make their very affection towards us act as a clog to their souls? There are times when unselfish attachment is best seen in not only "strengthening, in the Lord," but tenderly rebuking.

"Who speaks not needed truth, lest he offend, Hath spared himself, but sacrificed his friend."

Jonathan's friendship was perfectly "free from selfishness." Had there been in him the taint of ambition, covetousness, or envy, he would rather have been inclined, like his father, to hate than to love the young shepherd. Jonathan was of royal descent, the eldest son of a king; he must have been accustomed from youth to hear the voice of flattery, and to receive the homage of respect. Few readily part with dignity; but the son of Saul, without a murmur, apparently without a feeling of regret, yielded place to the son of Jesse.

And Jonathan was not only a prince but a hero; he had deservedly won both popularity and fame. David eclipsed him in both. In the song of the women of Israel— "Saul hath slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands," there seems not to have been even an allusion to the distinguished courage of Jonathan. How a proud heart would have chafed under such neglect! What drops of bitter jealousy would have poisoned the friendship of most men in the position of the prince! Can we see a friend of lowlier birth pass before us in the race of honour without an envious pang? Are we perfectly content to let his fame eclipse our own; and do we feel nothing but pleasure in listening to praises bestowed upon him? Then is our unselfish friendship worthy indeed of the name!

Jonathan's attachment to David was "firm under difficulties." The prince had duties to balance; he had to be submissive to the father who persecuted the friend. In a very remarkable manner Jonathan combined filial respect to Saul with fidelity to David. His mild but earnest, and for awhile successful, pleading with his father, his remaining with that guilty parent even after the tyrant had attempted his life, so that in death they were not divided, are beautiful traits in the prince. Saul was a persecutor—a murderer; his conduct must have wrung the heart of his pious son; but in life, as well as in death, that son seems to have kept near to his parent, without for one moment betraying the cause of his injured friend.

And, lastly, Jonathan's friendship was "tried in trouble." He was no summer-day lover, but a "brother born for adversity," who clung the more closely to David as the tempest raged the more fiercely around him. Jonathan's was love strong as death. If our hearts be warmed with friendship, is it holy, unselfish, generous, unchanging friendship such as his?

We are inclined, with David, to mourn over Jonathan, and feel that his fate was a hard one; that he suffered for sins not his own. But let us remember that the Lord reserves for those who love Him a far brighter crown than that which Jonathan was not permitted to wear, and that it was doubtless in mercy that he was called to close on Gilboa his brief but glorious career, so that he survived not to witness the ruin of his house. *

* It is interesting to observe that while the family of Saul may be compared to a blighted tree, the branch of Jonathan in later days bloomed into vigorous life. He left, as we know, but one little lame son; yet, centuries after Jonathan's death, we find his descendants numerous. The names of twenty-five of them are given in the Book of Chronicles, and of one of these it is written, "The sons of Ulam were mighty men of valour, archers, and had many sons and sons' sons, an hundred and fifty." It is very probable that the descendants of Jonathan may be living still upon earth. Is it quite impossible that Saul, the Apostle, the most illustrious of all the tribe of Benjamin, may have been descended from another Saul through the prince whom in his warm, self-denying affection he so mush resembled?

Jonathan's bow was as a type of himself. He was not as a weapon left to hang idle in a royal armoury, he was taken into the field of strife, he was bent in the hand of the Lord; but the hand that bent supported him still; his affections were strained like the tightened cord, but they were strengthened to bear the sore strain; and the bending and the straining were but to send the arrow of his hopes above an earthly sceptre or diadem, and fix them on higher joys, a crown that fadeth not away.

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