The short and ill-starred reign of Saul, the first king of the Jews, chosen when the people had wearied of the theocratic style of government, came to a speedy end. While yet the crown was on his head, the favor of the Lord departed from Saul, and Samuel, the Lord's prophet, was sent, 1064 B.C., to anoint his successor. The monarch was virtually deposed, though still in power. Saul was like a man under sentence of death who is still ignorant of his coming fate, and Samuel, who entertained a strong regard for him, evidently cared little to carry out the command received from God to discover the new king. Almost under protest, the old prophet sought Jesse the Bethlehemite, great-grandson of Boaz and the beautiful Ruth, and father of the sturdy set of stalwart sons who passed in review before him. The youngest of these, a lad herding sheep in the fields, ruddy and goodly to look upon, bearing in his eyes the fearlessness of her who left her father's house to follow Naomi's desolate fortunes, came from the fields when he was sent for. Peaceful as was his shepherd's life in general, it was not without its occasional spice of danger, as when a lion and a bear, famished and furious and ravening for their prey, came out of the wintry woods to devour the sheep. Then, as the sacred chronicler tersely and with Homeric brevity tells us, the shepherd "slew both the lion and the bear." That strange possession, the Spirit of the Lord, came upon David from the day of his anointing by Samuel, though it is improbable that he understood then, or for long afterward, precisely what was the function to which he had been consecrated. David was far older, and had dipped deep into many cups, before he spoke or thought of himself as "The Lord's Anointed." The steps toward the throne were not smoothed for the boy's feet, though his upward path was in a comparatively straight line. First, quite naturally, it came about that he was sent for by King Saul, who was afflicted with periods of melancholia which were charmed away only by the sweetness of melody. David's harp, on which he played skilfully, was the instrument of relief to Saul, and Saul looking on the young man loved him, desired to attach him to his person, and speedily made him his armor-bearer. Jonathan, Saul's son, grew so deeply attached to David, that their souls were knit together in that strong friendship which strikes its fibres into the soil underlying passion, and godlike in its endurance. The friendship of the two young men passed into a proverb, a proverb which is the crystallization of history. As David and Jonathan, is friendship's strongest simile.