The setting of the sun of the first King of Israel in such dark clouds has its truth to tell as well as its shadows to throw. We may learn -

I. THAT OUR WORST MISFORTUNES BRING OUT THE BEST FEELINGS OF OUR FRIENDS. "When all Jabesh-gilead heard," etc. (vers. 11, 12). Saul, in his earlier and better days, had risen to the height of a noble opportunity and delivered this city from impending ruin by an act of great energy and courage (1 Samuel 11.). And when the last misfortune had befallen their deliverer, and the worst indignities were practised on his dead body, the men of Jabesh-gilead remembered what they owed him, gave free play to their gratitude, summoned up their courage, and rescued his dishonoured remains from the hands of the insolent enemy. It was worthily done; their best traits were drawn out by the dire calamity of their friend. So it is always and everywhere. It is one of the mitigations of our misery that the kindest and most generous feelings are then displayed toward us by those who love us. Sickness, loss, disappointment, bereavement, the larger and deeper sorrows of human life, evoke all that is most tender, gracious, and Christ-like in the human soul. In truth, we do not know the depth of the affection with which our kindred and our friends are loving us until some saddening experience calls out all the latent sympathy that lies within their hearts. Better things as well as worse things than we ordinarily suppose reside within us; when the occasion comes they rise to the surface and show themselves to the eyes of men. The crushing blow which strikes us to the ground is one of these occasions. Then human love comes forth to render its truest and choicest ministry.

II. THAT TRANSGRESSION WILL CERTAINLY BE OVERTAKEN BY PENALTY IN DUE TIME. "Saul died for his transgression" (ver. 13). Retribution may have seemed tardy; it may have seemed to Saul as if he would "escape the judgment of God." Days, months, years, passed by and the blow fell not. The thought of his heart may have been, "I am safe now; the wrath of God would have descended if it were coming; I am secure; my mountain stands strong." But if he thus thought he was mistaken. Penalty was on its way, "leaden-footed but iron-handed," slow of step but sure of stroke, and the days of his life and of his power were numbered. His transgression was twofold.

1. Disobedience: he "kept not the word of the Lord" (ver. 13).

2. Departure from God: he "inquired not of the Lord," but he "asked counsel of one that had a familiar spirit" (vers. 13, 14). Instead of resorting to God through his prophet, "as he did aforetime," he had recourse to the forbidden and dangerous arts of necromancy thus forsaking the Lord and putting his trust in a miserable and delusive system of imposture. His punishment, like his sin, was twofold.

1. His own death: the Lord "slew him."

2. The overthrow of all his hopes and plans: "he turned the kingdom unto David" (ver. 14). Our transgression and our penalty often take these two forms.

(1) First come disobedience and departure. We do not the things which God enjoins; neglecting that which, above all things, is his will concerning us (John 6:39, 40). We depart from his side and his service, seeking our well-being in other sources of joy (Jeremiah 2:13).

(2) Then come death and overthrow. Our soul dies; its finer feelings disappear, its truer thoughts give place to false imaginings, its better hopes die down, its wiser aspirations sink and are lost; the shadows of spiritual death fall upon us. And with our own destruction comes the dispersion of our plans and expectations: the "kingdom is turned away;" the "wood, hay, and stubble" of a false life are consumed in the fires of God. Our life-work is overthrown and lost. The tower we took so long to build is in the dust. - C.

The great lesson teaches the transitoriness of all human dignity and glory. Where are the dukes of Edom now? Who knows the names of Timnah, Allah, Jetheth? How far are our own names known? What will be thought of them in the next century? Men are not to be estimated by their renown, but by them in the next goodness and their local influence. In the Christian Church we have come to a higher order of names than was ever known in secular history. Men may now be called sons of God, saints, slaves of Jesus Christ, inheritors of the world of light: let us aspire after these higher titles, for they never perish. The titles which men give soon expire: the titles which God confers are vital with His own Eternity.

(J. Parker, D. D.)