David's Bible and Ours.
By Dr. J. Hamilton
In the days of King David, the Bible was a scanty book; yet he loved it well, and found daily wonders in it. Genesis, with its sublime narration of how God made the world, with its glimpses of patriarchal piety, and dark disclosures of gigantic sins; Exodus, with its glorious marching through that great wilderness, its thrilling memories of Jehovah's outstretched arm, and the volume of the written law; Leviticus, through whose flickering vistas David's eye discerned the shadows of better things to come; Numbers, with its natural history of the heart of man; Deuteronomy, with its vindication of the ways of God; Joshua and Judges, with their chapters of Providence, their stirring incidents, and peaceful episodes; the memoir of Job, so fraught with spiritual experience; and the domestic annals of Ruth, which told to her grandson such a tale of divine foreknowledge, and love, and care, all converging on himself, or rather on David's Son and David's Lord; these were David's Bible, and he desired it beyond all his riches. But you have a Bible—a Bible with psalms and prophets in it—a Bible with gospels and epistles. How do you love that law? How often have you clasped it to your bosom as the man of your counsel? How often have you dwelt on its promises, until they evolved a sweetness which made you marvel? How many times have you praised the Lord for the clearness of its light, the sanctity of its truth, and the sureness of its immortality?—Dr. J. Hamilton.