the altar; and how at this moment Saul sent forth a groan, though the
lights which leapt from the jewels of his turban were his only sign of
motion. Then--the tale continues--David changes his theme. He sings of
the goodness of human life, as attested by the joyousness of youth, the
gratitude of old age. He sings of labour and success, of hope and
fulfilment, of high ambitions and of great deeds; of the great king in
whom are centred all the gifts and the powers of human nature--of Saul
himself. And at these words the tense body relaxes, the arms cross
themselves on the breast. But the eyes of Saul still gaze vacantly
before him, without consciousness of life, without desire for it.

David's song has poured forth the full cup of material existence; he has
yet to infuse into it that draught of "Soul Wine" which shall make it
desirable. In a fresh burst of inspiration, he challenges his hearer to
follow him beyond the grave. "The tree is known by its fruits; life by
its results. Life, like the palm fruit, must be crushed before its wine
can flow. Saul will die. But his passion and his power will thrill the
generations to come. His achievements will live in the hearts of his
people; for whom their record, though covering the whole face of a rock,
will still seem incomplete." And as the "Soul Wine" works, as the vision
of this earthly immortality unfolds itself before the sufferer's sight,
he becomes a king again. The old attitude and expression assert
themselves. The hand is gently laid on the young singer's forehead; the
eyes fix themselves in grave scrutiny upon him.

Then the heart of David goes out to the suffering monarch in filial,
pitying tenderness; and he yearns to give him more than this present
life--a new life equal to it in goodness, and which shall be
everlasting.