, lately flushed with victory, is in full flight, and on its rear, reaping a harvest of death, flashes and gleams in the morning light the single sword of Jonathan.
I search in vain the annals of war for an action parallel with that in the superb audacity of its conception and in the splendid valor with which it was executed.
And yet, not one in ten of you all ever heard of it before.
There it is, recorded on the page of Holy Writ, but it never arrested your most casual attention.
If Herodotus had told the story, or Plutarch, or Walter Scott, you would have heard it a thousand times in your childhood, and you would have told it again and again to your children after you.
A distinguished divine, recently speaking in this place, said of a certain Psalm upon which he was commenting: This is the soldier's Psalm.
He might with equal propriety have said of the whole book of Psalms: This is the soldier's book.
How full it is, from beginning to end, of allusion to the camp, the bat