fliction, before the most striking features of her faith can be brought out, or the highest and most beautiful points in her unusually lofty character, can be revealed to us.

"And she went up," to adopt the simple language of Scripture, "and laid her child on the bed of the man of God, and shut the door upon him, and went out."* But why so carefully close that door, or why is so minute a circumstance recorded? Doubtless to mark the strength of her faith, and the reality of her dependence upon God. She fastens the door, lest during her projected absence of some hours, in a climate where the bodies are usually interred before sunset, her husband should commit the child to the silent grave, while she was preparing only for his resurrection. "And she called her husband, and said, Send me, I pray thee, one of the young men, and one of the asses, that I may run to the man of God, and come again." "And he said," probably having yet no idea of the fatal termination of his child's illness, "Wherefore wilt * 2 Kings iv. 21.

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thou go to him to-day? It is neither new moon nor Sabbath." She dares not disclose her intention, fearful, lest her husband's faith should not be sufficiently strong to aid her, in what might appear to him, so wild and profitless an enterprise. She simply replies "It shall be well.” “Then she saddled an ass, and said to her servant, Drive and go forward; slack not thy riding for me, except I bid thee. So she went, and came unto the man of God to Mount Carmel."

And now the scene changes, and we behold the prophet on his watch-tower, where in close communion with his God, his happiest hours held on the even tenor of their way, not gladdened indeed by the cheering rays of social intercourse, but then not embittered by the thousand crosses of domestic life; gathering strength for days of greater usefulness, and enjoying such near and friendly access to the Most High, that he seems almost surprised, that any thing should be concealed from him, in which his heavenly Father's hand is traceable.

An unusual sight breaks in upon these spiritual

communings; he beholds "afar off" the afflicted Shunammite, driving in haste through the unfrequented forest, and evidently making for his solitary abode.

With that quick feeling, which marks the man who is touched the most readily, and most deeply, with another's wo, he waits not until she arrives; he is anxious to anticipate her wishes, and remembering at once, those objects that must be nearest and dearest to her heart, calls her servant and exclaims, "Behold, yonder is that Shunammite: run now, I pray thee, to meet her, and say unto her, Is it well with thee? Is it well with thy husband? Is it well with the child?"

How closely does the conduct of the prophet, resemble in its anxious solicitude, that of his Divine Master, and yet, like every other human imitation, how infinitely does it fall below it. "When he was yet a great way off," says our Lord, describing, in his well known parable, the Almighty's anxiety for the salvation of the returning sinner," his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed

him." We love the prophet, for not coldly awaiting the arrival of the sorrowing Shunammite, we think much of his condescension and kindness, in sending thus quickly to anticipate her coming, and yet how little, comparatively, do we think of the infinitely greater love of Him, who goes in person to meet every returning prodigal, and to seek as well as to save every repentant soul! Cold indeed must be that human heart, unquestionably perverted those feelings, which can hear of all our heavenly Father's daily, hourly displays of preventing grace, as manifested towards each of us individually, and not to be filled to overflowing with gratitude and love." "A great way off," aye, who shall say how far, were the happiest of the glorified spirits who now surround the throne, when first their Father saw and loved and pitied them, and with the outgoings of His grace, met, and led, and brought them to Himself.

In the instructions that the prophet gave his servant, not one object is omitted which he thinks the thoughts, or hopes of his coming visiter, are

fixed upon, or from which, he imagines it possible that her present sorrow emanates. But the afflicted mother came not thus fast, and far, to speak with the servant. She answers Gehazi at once, when he repeats the inquiry, "Is it well? It is well."

It has generally been thought that this reply was intended to express a high degree of resignation and holy calmness; and excellent use, for the consolation of the mourner,* has been made of this interpretation; but the impression which it is rather calculated to leave, after a careful perusal of the whole history, is, that it was the passing answer of a subdued, and yet dignified spirit, not choosing to open up the springs of its grief to any, save the prophet himself. Very characteristic of one who could reply to that prophet, "I dwell among mine own people ;" and who could lay her dead child upon the bed, and lock the door upon him, and go at once, without receiving advice, and without seeking it, to God's own minister, in the fulness of

* Hill's useful little work, " It is Well."