The best weapons with which to fight moral battles have already been forged, sharpened, and polished, waiting to be unsheathed for conflict. There are some things that the ingenuity of man cannot improve. Man’s genius may perfect the locomotive to give swiftness to his feet; it may magnify his voice until his whispers are heard a thousand miles away; it may perfect machinery giving speed and accuracy to his busy fingers; it may print his speech and multiply his audience a millionfold; it may open new fields of endeavor, thus increasing the circle of his influence; it may do many things to break down barriers, and increase usefulness; but all the genius and skill of man can never devise nor contribute to any life a better or keener weapon with which to fight moral battles than belonged to us the eventful morning we left the old homeplace and mother’s presence, to begin, among strangers, our first conquest with the world. As a royal exile David was facing a grave crisis. The relentless enemy was pressing hard, and he possessed no means of defense. Leaving his hiding place, he hurried into the presence of Ahimelech and asked for a spear or a sword. As Ahimelech was a priest, and not a warrior, he was about to dismiss the young man empty-handed when, suddenly, he remembered. Wrapped in cloth, hanging behind the high priest’s robe, was an old sword, the very one that this young man had one time taken from the stiffening fingers of a dying giant, whom he had slain on the eventful morning of his first great conflict. Slowly and carefully the old man took the gleaming blade from its resting place, unwrapped it with reverent touch, explaining that it was all that he had to offer. David was instantly filled with delight. His eyes gleamed with fire, his heart and soul were thrilled with memories of that bright morning, when, filled with the ardor of youth, he had run down the mountainside to make conquest with the giant. This was that giant’s sword! The very one that he had wrenched from the stiffening fingers of the vanquished foe. Reaching forward he grasped it in his strong right hand saying: “There is none like that; give it me.” There may have been and probably were better and more beautiful swords in the world; keener steel may have been forged into swords for the generals and kings of other lands, but for David there was none other quite so efficient as the one with which he had gained his first victory. There are no newly discovered weapons with which to fight the moral battles of to-day. As David was aroused from the shrinking spirit of a fugitive to become a conquering king, by being given the weapon of his former battle, so each man must make requisition upon the past. Behold the weapons which hang in the sacred temple of our souls awaiting the grasp of a courageous hand.