In the courtiers of King Saul, we are amazed first at the clearness with which they recognized demoniacal agency in the disconsolate condition of their master; then the frankness, combined, indeed, with the deepest respectfulness, with which they, regardless of the consequences which might arise to them from such a step, announced their opinion of his case, which was by no means flattering to him; and, finally, the suitableness of the counsel which they felt themselves constrained to give to him. They recommended to him the power of music as a means for relieving his mind, but with a wise discriminating judgment regarding its character.
There was, indeed, no lack of musicians at the court at Gibeah; but they appear to have been devoid of the qualifications which were at this time needed. The servants knew well the poser of music to produce, according to its kind and quality, not less the most depraved than the holiest impressions. Music can unfetter the most destructive passions; but it can also, at least momentarily, tame and mitigate the wildest storms of the human heart. Whatever noble impulses, unobserved and slumbering, may lie concealed within the breast of man, may be aroused by music and brought forth into the light of day; but, at the same time, it may also stir the vilest passions in the lower regions of human nature, and accelerate their maturity into action.
The music which the servants of the king thought of was not that which pleases the world, and which only opens the door to unclean spirits, but as such, animated by a nobler inspiration, might insensibly elevate the soul by its harmonious melody, as on angels’ wings, toward heaven. They thought of the harp, then the most solemn instrument of music, and on the melodies which were wont to sound forth in the sanctuary at the sacred festivals in Israel. And when the king, as if in a waking dream, entered into the proposal of his well-meaning servant, and said to them, “Provide me a man that can play well on the harp, and bring him to me,” one of them remarked, “Behold, I have seen a son of Jesse the Bethlehemite, that is cunning in playing, and a mighty valiant man, and a man of war, and prudent in matters, and a comely person, and the Lord is with him.”
At length David reaches Gibeah, carrying his harp hanging on his shoulder-band, and is immediately introduced to the king.
Here now they stand opposite each other—the one like the clear shining of the sun in spring, the other like a black thundercloud ominous of evil; the one full of blooming, hopeful life; the other, a dark specter arising from the realm of death.
The king said to him, “Play to me.” David bowed his head, and obeyed; and so sweet and grandly solemn was the music which flowed from the strings of his harp, that the clouded brow of the king began visibly to brighten, and his stern features strangely became relaxed and mild. It was a song without words whose soothing melody then fell upon the ear of the king. Words corresponding to the music would have effected the contrary result to that which was aimed at, and might even have increased the ill temper of the king. There are even yet men enough of his sort—persons without faith, yea, at variance both with God and the world—whom solemn music is able most powerfully to delight, and in whom it awakens, at least for the time, dispositions which border on devotion and piety, while yet the words which correspond to the sacred melody would produce in them the very opposite effect.
What is manifest from this, but that in the soul of such persons the last point at which they may be touched by that which is sacred, has not yet wholly decayed away? Let them be on their guard, however, lest by constant striving against the thoughts which, unspoken, echo forth from the harmonies with which they are delighted and refreshed, the last string in their soul on which the heavenly breath gently sounds may at length break asunder, and their aversion to the heavenly message finally terminate in a decided and incurable opposition to all that comes down from above.
The sounds from David’s harp had, for the moment at least, wrought a true miracle. To the joy of those about them, the king breathed more calmly, and appeared milder and more serene than they had for a long time beheld him. And often again, when the old melancholy began to gather like a cloud around his soul, the harp music of the shepherd youth obtained the same happy result.
Is it any wonder that Saul loved the young harper? He sent to Jesse, saying, “Let David, I pray thee, stand before me, for he hath found favor in my sight”; in fact, so far did the favor of Saul extend that he received the Bethlehemite into the number of his pages and armor-bearers. The history further informs us that “when the evil spirit from God” (i.e., the spirit that, by the mysterious judicial permission of God, laid hold on him) “was upon Saul, that David took an harp, and played with his hand: so Saul was refreshed, and was well, and the evil spirit departed from him.”
These last words surprise us. “Did the music,” we ask, “banish the demon?” Not so; but the higher frame of mind into which the king was brought by it sufficed to limit at least the sphere of the operation of the evil spirit within him; while a full, clear, conscious life of faith on the part of Saul would have altogether destroyed the power of the wicked one. Besides, the silent intercessions which David sent up to heaven on the wings of the music of his harp must have contributed to the results with which his melodies were crowned. It appeared to be God’s purpose in sending David to the king, to afford to him a new and a last means of grace. He must become conscious of what a man of childlike piety, such as David, is able, by the help of God, to do against all the powers of darkness. In the way of such an experience, he ought himself to have been won to a life of piety. But, alas! all the efforts to deliver the unhappy man were fruitless. His heart hardened itself more and more.
One of our great secular poets has imagined what an elevating, yea, sanctifying power, may dwell in God-consecrated music. He represents the hero of his poem as saved from an assault of darkest thoughts by harmonies of a sacred choir sounding out from a neighboring cathedral into his chamber.
But the poet did not understand the rich harmonious music before which the power of all evil spirits must yield, not for a passing moment only, but forever. This is the music of the holy gospel, for which, however, there must first be created in the heart of him who would listen to it the faculty of hearing, which can only be done by means of repentance and an awakened consciousness of the need of salvation. There cannot be heard in heaven or on earth any music more powerful to pacify and elevate, than that which sounds forth from the spiritual harps of the evangelists and apostles. Here we may listen to melodious notes, which will overpower and make silent every discord within us.