House Beautiful by Charlotte Maria Tucker

THERE is pathetic interest in this memorial of Jonathan, prince of Israel. When the mental eye rests on the unstrung bow once grasped in his strong firm hand, we recall the touching lament of David over him who fell on the mountain of Gilboa. "How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle! O Jonathan, thou wast slain in thine high places. I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan: very pleasant hast thou been unto me: thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women!"

There are few characters in the Old Testament that stand before us in more life-like reality than that of Jonathan, few that so much attract our sympathy and love. We think of him less as the hero, attacking almost alone the Philistine garrison, or falling, covered with wounds, at the fatal battle of Gilboa, as the faithful friend, in close communion with one whom he loved as his own soul. We think of him going forth into the field at Ramah with his bow in his hand, to give warning to David, then lying concealed behind the stone Ezel; sadness on the prince's brow, stern sorrow in his spirit, but unchanging love in his heart. Touching is the account of that stolen interview between the prince and his persecuted friend, when they kissed one another, and wept one with another, till David exceeded.