II.

That he did so, is due amongst other reasons to the fact that he was a generous man.

His unsolicited assistance of David clearly proves this, while the very length of the catalogue of articles with which he and his friends supplied the fugitive’s needs, proves that when he gave, he did so in no stinted fashion, but freely and liberally.

It is an excellent example for all who are feeling themselves burdened by the possessions and the opportunities with which God has enriched them.  Let them remember that they hold them only in trust, and in helping to bear others’ burdens, they will actually, strange to say, lighten their own.

  “’Tis worth a wise man’s best of life,
  ’Tis worth a thousand years of strife,
  If thou canst lessen but by one,
  The countless ills beneath the sun.”

While, on the other hand, can there be a sadder thought for the man whose earthly course is nearly run, than the thought that there will be none to rise up after him and call him blessed, but that he will die, as he has lived, unhonoured, unwept?

If that, then, is not to be our fate, we cannot use too diligently every opportunity of well-doing which God has placed within our reach; we cannot live too earnestly, not for ourselves only, but for others:  that from the seeds which we sow now, there may spring up hereafter a rich and abundant harvest.

III.

Barzillai was contented.

Not many men in his position would have refused the king’s offer.  It seems rather to be one of the penalties of wealth and greatness, that their owners cannot rest satisfied with what they have, but are always desiring more.  But Barzillai felt, and felt rightly, that in his circumstances, the place in which he had been brought up—­“his own place”—­was the best place for him.  He was a home-loving old man, and the simple interests and pleasures of his daily life had more attraction for him than the excitements and rivalries of the court.

I do not, of course, mean to say that either here or elsewhere in Scripture, a wise and healthy ambition is discouraged.  It is natural to wish to get on, if only for the sake of a wider sphere of usefulness; but let us see to it that we avoid that restless longing for change, simply for the sake of change, that coveting of positions for which we are not suited, and which, if gratified, can end only in disappointment.

“It is a great thing,” said one to an ancient philosopher, “to possess what one wishes.”  “It is a greater blessing still,” was the reply, “not to desire what one does not possess.”  And surely, in what we do possess, in the beauties of nature with which we are here surrounded, in the love of home and wife and children, in the intercourse with friends and acquaintance, we have much to make us contented, much, very much, to be thankful for.  “To watch the corn grow, or the blossoms set; to draw hard breath over ploughshare or spade; to read, to think, to love, to pray,”—­these, says John Ruskin, “are the things that make men happy.”  And these are things that, in some measure at least, are within the reach of us all.