the assertion of his own strength, but the confession of his own
weakness. And I say it again.

But it is plain that David had strength, and of no common order;
that he was an eminently powerful, able, and successful man. From
whence then came that strength? He says, from God. He says,
throughout his life, as emphatically as did St. Paul after him, that
God's strength was made perfect in his weakness.

God is his deliverer, his guide, his teacher, his inspirer. The
Lord is his strength, who teaches his hands to war, and his fingers
to fight; his hope and his fortress, his castle and deliverer, his
defence, in whom he trusts; who subdueth the people that is under
him.

To God he ascribes, not only his success in life, but his physical
prowess. By God's help he slays the lion and the bear. By God's
help he has nerve to kill the Philistine giant. By God's help he is
so strong that his arms can break even a bow of steel. It is God
who makes his feet like hart's feet, and enables him to leap over
the walls of the mountain fortresses.

And we must pause ere we call such utterances mere Eastern metaphor.
It is far more probable that they were meant as and were literal
truths. David was not likely to have been a man of brute gigantic
strength. So delicate a brain was probably coupled to a delicate
body. Such a nature, at the same time, would be the very one most
capable, under the influence--call it boldly, inspiration--of a
great and patriotic cause, of great dangers and great purposes;
capable, I say, at moments, of accesses of almost superhuman energy,