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[Illustration]
NOTABLE WOMEN
OF
OLDEN TIME.
WRITTEN FOR THE AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION.
PHILADELPHIA:
AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION,
1122 CHESTNUT STREET.
_Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1852, by the
AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District
of Pennsylvania._
_No books are published by the AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION without the
sanction of the Committee of Publication, consisting of fourteen
members, from the following denominations of Christians, viz. Baptist,
Methodist, Congregationalist, Episcopal, Presbyterian, Lutheran, and
Reformed Dutch. Not more than three of the members can be of the same
denomination, and no book can be published to which any member of the
Committee shall object._
CONTENTS.
PAGES
THE WIFE--(SARAH) 7
THE WIFE UNLOVED--(HAGAR) 35
THE PARTIAL AND INTRIGUING MOTHER--(REBEKAH) 63
THE RIVAL SISTERS--(LEAH AND RACHEL) 89
THE AFFECTIONATE SISTER--(MIRIAM) 119
THE PROPHETESS--(DEBORAH) 171
THE ARTFUL WOMAN--(JEZEBEL) 187
THE AMBITIOUS WOMAN--(ATHALIAH) 205
THE ORPHAN QUEEN--(ESTHER) 231
THE WIFE--SARAH.
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Within a few centuries after the flood, while some who had witnessed the
sin and the destruction of the antediluvian world were still living,
Jehovah saw fit, in accordance with his designs of eternal wisdom, to
separate Abraham from his brethren, calling upon him to leave the land
of his birth and go out into a strange land, to dwell in a far country.
He was to pass the rest of his days as a sojourner in a land which
should be thereafter given to a people yet unborn,--to a nation which
was to descend from him.
Abraham was a lineal descendant of Shem, who was doubtless still living
while "the father of Abraham yet abode with his kindred in the land of
the Chaldees;" and from the lips of his venerable progenitor, Abraham
himself may have first received the knowledge of the true God, and have
learned lessons of wisdom and obedience, as he sat at his feet. Shem may
have conversed with Methuselah; and Methuselah must have known Adam; and
from Adam, Methuselah may have heard that history of the creation and
fall, which he narrated to Shem, and which Shem may have transmitted to
Abraham; and the history of the world would be thus remembered as the
traditional recollections of a family, and repeated as the familiar
remembrances of a single household.
Tales of the loveliness of Eden,--of the glories of the creation,--of
the blessedness of the primeval state,--of the days before the fall;
remembrances of the "mother of all living" in the days of her holiness,
when she was as beautiful as the world created for her home, in all the
dewy sweetness of the morning of its existence,--of the wisdom of man
before he yielded to the voice of temptation, when authority was
enthroned upon his brow, and all the tribes of the lower creation did
him homage;--of the good spirits who watched over to minister unto and
bless them;--of those dark, unholy and accursed ones, who came to tempt,
betray and destroy them,--were recounted as events of which those who
described them had been the witnesses. And from the remembrances thus
preserved and transmitted by tradition, each generation obscuring or
exaggerating them, have descended what we call fables of
antiquity,--great facts, now dimly remembered and darkly presented, as
shadowed over by the mists of long ages.
How must the hearts of the descendants of Shem have thrilled as they
heard from him the history of by-gone times--of a world which had passed
away! How much had the great patriarch of his race, himself, beheld? He
had seen the glory and the beauty of the world before the flood. It was
cursed for the sin of man, in the day of his fall--but slowly, as we
measure time, do the woes denounced by God often take effect, and,
though excluded from Eden, the first pair may have seen little change
pass over the face of the earth. The consummation of this curse may have
been the deluge; and those who dwelt on the earth, before this calamity
swept it with its destroying wing, may have seen it in much of its
original beauty; while those who outlived that event witnessed a
wonderful change.
From that frail fabric, the ark, which proved the second cradle of the
race, Shem had beheld a world submerged,--a race swept off by the floods
of Almighty wrath. He had heard the shrieks of the drowning, the vain
prayer of those who had scoffed the threatened vengeance, the fruitless
appeal of those who had long rejected mercy. As the waves bore up his
frail vessel, he had seen the black and sullen waters settle over
temples, cities and palaces; and he had gazed until he could behold but
one dark expanse of water, in whose turbid depths were buried all the
families of the earth--save one.
Those he had loved and honoured, and much which, perhaps, he had envied
and coveted--the pride, the glory, the beauty of earth--all had passed
away. And after the waters subsided, and the ark had found a
resting-place, what a deep and sad solemnity must have mingled with the
joy for their preservation.
How strange the aspect the world presented! How must the survivors have
recalled past scenes and faces, to be seen no more! How much they must
have longed to recognise old familiar places,--the Eden of Adam and
Eve,--the graves in which they had been laid! For doubtless Seth and his
descendants still remained with their first parents, while Cain went out
from their presence and built a city in some place remote. The earth
which Noah and his descendants repeopled was one vast grave; and what
wonder that those who built above a race entombed, should mingle fancy
with tradition, and imagine that the buried cities and habitations were
yet inhabited by the accursed and unholy. Such have been the fancies of
those who darkly remembered the flood; and as the wind swept through the
caverns of the earth, the superstitious might still imagine that they
heard the voices or the shrieks of the spirits imprisoned within.
Shem seems to have far exceeded his brothers in true piety, and the
knowledge of Jehovah was for many generations preserved among his
descendants, while few or none of them ever sank into those deep
superstitions which debased the children of Ham. And it is beautiful to
remark, that the filial piety which so pre-eminently marked him has ever
been a prominent trait among all nations descended from him. Thus
receiving his impressions of the power, the truth, the awful justice of
Jehovah, from one well fitted to convey them,--and taught the certain
fulfilment of promises and of threats,--Abraham was early inspired with
that deep reverential and yet filial love, that entire confidence,
which led to the trusting obedience which distinguished his character.
Yet, from his very piety, sad must it have been when the command came to
leave the plains of Mesopotamia, and go out a stranger and a pilgrim
into distant lands, to become a dweller among those who were fast
apostatizing from the true faith. "But by faith he obeyed," and by his
obedience he has given us an example and illustration of faith, which
has been held forth through all succeeding ages. To be the child of
Abraham, to walk as he walked, is, after the lapse of thousands of
years, the characteristic of the true worshipper of God.
Guided by an Omniscient hand, trusting in an Almighty power, cheered by
that mysterious promise, which, as a star of hope shining in the hour of
deepest darkness, still rose to higher brightness as it guided the long
line of patriarchs, kings, and prophets, until it settled over the
manger of Bethlehem, and was lost in the full glory of the Sun of
righteousness,--Abraham girded his loins and prepared for a departure to
far distant lands.
At first, attended by his father and brother, he sojourned with them in
Haran; and the family pitched their tents in that spot which was to
become in future ages the battle-ground of nations, when the proud eagle
of imperial Rome was trailed in the dust, and her warriors and her
nobles fell before their fiercer foes. Long ages have intervened since
the tents of this Syrian family were pitched by the side of the waters
of Charan; and midway between their days and ours, were these waters
discoloured with the blood of those who fell in the battle of Charae, so
disastrous to Rome, ever haughty, and then exulting in the height of her
prosperity. A few wandering shepherds now lead their flocks in the plain
in which Sarah and Abraham dwelt, and where Cassius and his legions
fell. But a short sojourn was permitted Abraham here. "Arise and depart,
for this is not your rest"--and again he listened to the command from
above, and gathered his flocks and servants, and girded his loins, and
set his face towards the land promised to him, and to his seed after
him. And now he left his father and his brethren, and went with his own
family, the head of his house, the future patriarch of his race.
Yet he was not alone. The wife of his youth was by his side. In all his
wanderings, in all his cares, there was one with him to participate in
his joys and to alleviate his sorrows. With him and for him, his wife
forsook home, kindred and country. We doubt not that she too shared the
faith of Abraham; that she too trusted and loved and worshipped the God
of Abraham, and of Shem, and of Noah. Like Abraham, a descendant of
Shem,--like him too, she had been trained in the worship of Jehovah. Yet
to the faith of the true believer, there was added the strong affection
of the wife; and while Abraham went out obeying God, Sarah followed,
trusting God indeed, but leaning still upon her husband. In all her
future life, she is presented to us the wife; devoted, affectionate,
submissive; loving her husband with a true affection, and honouring him
by a due deference.
With a beauty that fascinated kings, preserving the charms of youth to
the advanced period of her life, she still lived but for her husband;
and when even the faith of Abraham failed, and he withdrew from the wife
the protection of the husband, and said, "She is my sister," Sarah
appears to have acquiesced in a deceit so unworthy of her husband and of
herself, merely to insure his safety among the lawless tribes around
them.
As we read the story of Abraham's wife, we catch glimpses of ages and
nations that were hoar with antiquity, and had passed away when our
ancient historians began the record of the past. Nation after nation had
perished and been forgotten before the profane historian began his
annals. Yet childless, still trusting in the promise of Jehovah, Abraham
wandered for many years through the land which was to be given to him,
and his seed after him. Now pitching his tent in Moreh; then building
his altar at Bethel; then driven by famine into Egypt; then returning to
his altar at Bethel,--and there separating from his nephew Lot, because
"the land could not bear" both, he fixes his abode in Hebron.
No pictures of pastoral life are more beautiful than those presented in
Genesis; and while we contemplate the character of Abraham, we catch
occasional glimpses of his household, and of the manners of his age. We
see him exercising forbearance and relinquishing the rights of a
superior, that there might be no strife between him and his too worldly
relative. We see him leading out his own band as a prince, to rescue
that same relative,--who, tempted by the promise of large wealth, had
chosen a location full of dangers,--and, in the hour of victory,
refusing all spoil and showing all honour to the priest of the most high
God.
Again he is before us, sitting in his tent in the heat of the day, and
hastening to receive strangers,--"thus entertaining angels
unawares,"--and then interceding for that city doomed to destruction for
the wickedness of the dwellers therein.
And again he appears as the prince, the patriarch, the head of his own
family, and high in honour with those around him, ever observing all the
decorum and proprieties of oriental life. We see him, too, as one who
walked with God; as the priest of his household, presenting the morning
and the evening sacrifice; as holding high communion with God in the
hours of darkness; entering into that covenant which is still pleaded by
those who claim the promise, "I will be a God to thee, and to thy seed
after thee."
This promise of a seed, from which was to spring a great nation, "like
to the stars of heaven in number," was frequently repeated, yet still
deferred. Youth, manhood, middle age, all had passed, and still no child
blest the tents of Sarah; and while Abraham still believed, and it "was
accounted to him for righteousness," Sarah seems to have felt that not
upon her was to be conferred the distinction of becoming the mother of
the promised seed. With the warm impulse of the woman, she sacrificed
the feelings of the wife and the instincts of the heart, to promote
what she doubtless believed to be the plan of God and the happiness of
Abraham. There is a deficiency of faith as much to be manifested in the
forestalling the plans of Providence as in the denial of the promises of
God: and while Abraham still trusted and waited the fulfilment of the
promise, Sarah sought, by her own device, to accomplish prophecy and
insure the blessing.
In accordance with the usages of those around her, she gave her handmaid
to her husband to be his wife, "that their children might bless her
age." She doubtless felt herself strong enough in love to Abraham and to
Hagar to believe that her affection would embrace their children. But
when the trial came, and all the instincts of the heart, all the
feelings of the wife revolted, she proved that this violation of a
heaven-appointed institution brings only sorrow and strife. Yet there
was no alienation between Sarah and Abraham. The wife of his youth was
ever dearer to him than the mother of his child.
At length, however, the promise was fulfilled. Sarah became a mother.
Many years had passed since she had left the home of her fathers. The
days of man were now much abridged, and she was fast approaching the
ordinary limit of human life; but we may suppose her cheek was still
fair and her brow smooth, and that she still retained much of the beauty
of youth.
With a wondering joy, Sarah gazed upon the child so long desired--the
child in whose seed "all the nations of the earth" were to be "blessed."
And she said, "God hath made me to laugh, so that all who hear shall
laugh;" and while those that heard that Sarah "had borne Abraham a son
in his old age," wondered at an event so strange, Abraham must have
pondered the prophecy which had revealed to him the destiny of his
race,--perhaps foreseeing that Star which was to rise in a still distant
age, and apprehending, however dimly and faintly, something of the
mysterious connection between the birth of the child and the promise
given in the hour of the curse--the blending of the fate of his race
with the eternal plan of mercy and redemption.
There is an instinct in our natures which leads us to rejoice at a
birth; but, could Sarah have foreseen the destiny of her race, tears
would have mingled with her smiles. Wonderful has been the past history
of that people, strange their present condition, while the future may
develop mysteries still more incomprehensible.
In the hour of rejoicing over the new-born babe, past transgression
brought forth its legitimate fruits. Sullenness and strife were
brooding in the bosoms of the Egyptian bond-woman and her son; and the
quiet eye of the mother saw all the danger arising from the jealous hate
and rivalry of the first-born of Abraham.
If the decision was stern, it was needful. "Cast out the bond-woman and
her child, for her son shall not be heir with my son, even with Isaac."
Harsh words,--but it is better to dwell peacefully asunder, than
together in strife and bitterness. The malignant passions which led
Ishmael to mock, might soon be stimulated by the mother to
murder,--chafed and irritated as she was by the constant presence of the
child who had supplanted her own. From the time of the departure of
Hagar from the household of Abraham, peace seems to have rested upon it.
Prosperity attended him. He no longer wandered from place to place. He
remained in Hebron, sojourning with Sarah and her child.
Many years passed,--years of peaceful quiet and happiness seldom
allotted to such an age,--while they trained their child in the nurture
of the true God, and were honoured by the princes around him, who sought
to enter into league with him, for they saw that "God blessed him in all
that he did."
Once again God saw fit to test the faith of Abraham by calling upon him
to offer his son--his only son Isaac, whom he loved--as a sacrifice; and
Abraham obeyed the divine command, and thus doing, uttered that prophecy
which has thrilled so many souls, "God will himself provide a
sacrifice." In this trial, Sarah seems not to have been called to
participate. The mother was spared the agony of feeling that her only
child was to be offered as a sacrifice--that the hope of her life was to
perish.
"Sarah was an hundred and twenty years old, and she died." The dark
shadow of death is, sooner or later, to fall upon each household.
Abraham seems to have been at a distance--perhaps in the charge of some
of his numerous flocks--when he was recalled to Hebron by news of
Sarah's death. And he came to mourn over her. The remembrance of her
maiden beauty and modesty, the grateful recollection of all her conjugal
devotedness, filled his soul. If light and immortality were brought to
light in the gospel, still the divine rays were faintly reflected in the
former dispensation, and the eye of faith even then penetrated the thick
darkness of the grave.
And now, after these long years of promise and waiting, Abraham takes
possession of the land which God had given to him and to his seed. He
asks, however, but a small portion,--a tomb, a place for his dead,--and
a more beautiful description of a scene of mutual deference, of regard
for rights and respect for character and position, was never penned
than that which records the negotiation between the bereaved patriarch
and the children of Heth. With the touch of magic, the whole scene is
before us. The bereaved patriarch, courteous in grief, bowing in the
presence of the sons of Heth,--the deep respect, the kindly sympathy,
manifested by those who, strangers to his religion, felt the claims of
his character,--mingled with that deep awe which the visitation of death
ever inspires.
The last scene was now over, and Sarah has first taken possession of
that home to which she was to be followed by her husband and their
descendants. One by one they take their places by her side,--unwelcomed,
unquestioned,--
"Where none have saluted and none have replied,"--
and yet where all are gathered at last. We see her not as a sister or a
daughter. She is not known to us in the house of her father. Sarah is
only presented to us as the wife of Abraham. And as a wife the apostle
has held her up to her own sex as a model and example. "Even as Sarah
obeyed her husband, calling him lord,"--exclaims the apostle, exhorting
the wife to due deference. The deep, fervent affection of the heart led
to that outward manifestation of honour so beautiful and becoming; and
as the only love which can be enduring is that which is founded on
respect, so it is the highest happiness of the wife to be able truly to
honour him whom she is bound to love and obey.
When the heads of a household are thus united in warm affection and
mutual respect, the influence will pervade the whole circle, and the
family of Abraham presented a beautiful picture of such a household. The
numerous members composing a large family were governed by one who
provided for their sustenance, led them forth for the defence of
rights, or the redress of injuries, or the rescue of the captive; and
who officiated as the priest as well as ruler of his household. In such
a community, the character of the head would be impressed upon the whole
people; and it was with obvious meaning that Jehovah exclaimed, "I know
him that he will command his household after him." It was by example
that admonition was made availing. And the wife was ever ready, with her
ardent and trusting love, to aid and co-operate. Hastening, when he
welcomed the stranger, to prepare the feast, she was ever ready to
receive his guests and add her efforts to his hospitality.
Hatred, strife, and mutual alienation so often cloud over the unison of
wedded life, and cause its sun to set in darkness, that few spectacles
can be presented more beautiful or more delightful than the old age of
wedded life, soothed by true affection and mutual kindness. It is more
touching than the glow of youthful passion. It proclaims the presence of
high moral worth. It is never found in the habitations of the unholy.
The love which thus survives the glow of youth, which bears the storms
and the trials of life, must be founded on truth, on unimpassioned
esteem, on approved integrity; and those alone who love God supremely,
love each other unselfishly.
While Sarah honoured her husband, she too was treated with proper
deference. Her counsels were ever heeded, her voice had its due
influence, and he still deferred to her wishes. It is beautiful to note
the increasing estimation in which she is held. Sarai, "the mistress,"
betokened her station as the head of a household; and as years brought
honours, and an enlarged sphere of duty, and a more elevated position
among the people around them, Sarai was changed into Sarah--_my lady_.
Her husband, in addressing the former Sarai as Sarah, "my lady,"
gracefully returned the honour she bestowed when she called him "lord."
By such manifestation of mutual respect and love, the chain of family
affection is kept bright.
As the household of Abraham was the household of faith, ordained as the
model for all ages, it is well to analyze the elements which composed
it, and to trace their combined influence. There was the conjugal union
of the true worshippers of Jehovah, animated by the same hopes, governed
by the same principles, whose hearts were united in the strong bonds of
natural affection. There was the confiding, unfailing affection, the
deep, reverential respect, and due obedience of the wife. There was the
tender love, protecting care, the unwavering faith, the honourable
deference of the husband. The religion of this household was the
religion of faith and of obedience,--a religion which led them to
forsake all at the command of God, which taught them to rely upon his
promises, to fear his threatenings, to plead his grace, to trust his
mercy, while it was a religion which led to a due observance of all the
relative duties of life, which taught the exercise of that impartial
justice, careful benevolence, disinterested kindness, and ready
hospitality to those without the family; and of steady love, of
affectionate kindness, of sympathetic forbearance to the members of the
household within. The family of faith, where faith is pure, will ever be
a family of love; and as true piety is the best security for family
happiness, so family love is the best nurse for family piety.
There are many families among us who aim at being families of faith, who
profess to walk in the steps of Abraham, to imitate his example. Let
such not confine themselves to the manifestation of his peculiar faith,
to his trust and dependence alone. Let them walk as he walked before his
household, in the fear of God and the love of man, in the careful
fulfilment of every relative and social duty, in the daily
exemplification of a tender and loving spirit, carefully avoiding or
removing all sources of division. Let that piety which unites them to
God, be a bond, encircling all and drawing them near to each other.
By the cultivation of the simple domestic virtues, by the daily, quiet,
self-denying trials, by the observance of the thousand decencies, the
unaffected proprieties, the unostentatious efforts to bless and
comfort,--by the elevating influence of personal example,--by the
breathing atmosphere of a holy spirit,--the family is to be made the
household of faith, the nursery of the church.
Direct instruction and formal efforts and stated observances are
neither to be forgotten nor to be remitted; but these can only be made
effectual by the living exemplification of a spirit of love, a life of
holiness. It will ever be found true that he who prays most loves
most.
[Illustration]
HAGAR--THE WIFE UNLOVED.
The Hebrew patriarch led his flocks and herds, surrounded by his large
household, from Haran to the land of the Canaanites; from thence to that
of the Philistines, down into Egypt; wherever so numerous a family and
such large flocks could find sustenance--water and herbage. And as he
thus sojourned, many of the poor of these lands flocked to him for
employment and support; and while he bought the services of the parents,
the children born in his house became members of his family, were
trained as his servants, and were subject to his authority as the master
of the household, the prince among his people, the patriarch of his
tribe.
And among these was Hagar, the Egyptian. We are not told whether she was
born in the house of Abraham, or rescued from those who may have stolen
her from her home, or given by her parents to the wealthy and childless
Sarai. She was Sarah's handmaid--a relation, according to the customs of
the East (almost immutable) nearly as dear as that of a child. She was
the personal attendant, the constant companion of her mistress; and by
her was doubtless instructed in the principles of the true religion,
while she was thus accustomed to the accomplishments and occupations of
the age. The tasks of the favourite handmaids of Eastern families are
still light. To sit at the feet of her mistress with her embroidery; to
cheer her with the simple music of the shepherd's tent; to aid her in
those domestic duties to which Sarah gave her own superintendence; to
assist in preparing the wool of the flocks for the garments of the
family; to watch her tent as she reposed by day, and keep by her side as
the camels slowly wandered through the valleys in search of pure streams
or more abundant herbage, were probably the occupations and duties of
Hagar.
Years thus passed on--and the dark-browed and dark-eyed Egyptian maiden
had grown into womanhood, and the freshness of youth, the joyousness of
health and early life were her's, while her mistress was passing into
age. Sarah no longer hoped to become a mother, and, believing that the
promise was not intended for her, she urged Abraham to take another
wife, offering for his acceptance her own handmaid, the Egyptian Hagar.
The authority of the mistress of the East over her own establishment is
so absolute, the husband so interdicted from all interference, that,
although Hagar had passed her youth with Sarah, she may have been
hardly noticed by Abraham until Sarah proffered her. According to the
usage of the east, Sarah had a right (the right then claimed by the
parent) thus to dispose of her handmaid; and a marriage with her master
was the highest honour which could be bestowed on Hagar. She was given
to Abraham to be his wife, and, the relation was--according to the usage
then prevailing--as legal as that sustained by Sarah, although the
station was inferior. No injury was intended to Hagar. No higher
distinction could have been conferred upon her, and, strong in love to
both Hagar and Abraham, Sarah doubtless supposed she might be able to
welcome and love their children, though denied offspring of her own.
But such departure from the law, precept, or institution of God,
involves a long train of sin and sorrow, no matter what the
intention--and the union of Abraham with Hagar was a direct violation
of the institution of marriage in all its principles and intentions, and
it could not but bring confusion and strife to the tent of the
patriarch.
It was merely a marriage of interest and convenience, unhallowed by
love. The heart of Abraham never departed from the wife of his youth,
nor could Sarah ever have intended to relinquish her hold upon his
affection. It is the last claim a woman foregoes. And on the other hand,
Hagar could have felt no love for her master, so much her superior in
age and station. Unholy pride and rank ambition were all the feelings
which such an alliance could awaken in the heart of Hagar. Yet Hagar was
the least blameworthy, and, perhaps, not eventually the greatest
sufferer. By the customs of society, she had no voice in the disposal of
herself. Her heart was never consulted. She was only allowed to receive
the husband allotted to her--to acquiesce in the decision of others.
The natural results of such a union followed. The exaltation of Hagar
excited her pride and led to arrogance; and when she knew that she
should become a mother, her childless mistress was despised.
It is hard to bear contempt from those upon whom we have lavished
kindness; to feel that we have exalted those who despise us: and all the
indignation of Sarah was roused by the assumption and ingratitude of
Hagar; and, with the quick instinct of the woman, she retorted upon her
husband, "My wrong be upon thee."
A stranger indifference could not have been manifested than that showed
by Abraham towards the youthful wife who should have now received his
protection and kindness. "Behold thy handmaid is in thy hands." He
recognised no tie--he felt no obligation. What was Hagar, that she
should occasion strife between him and the wife of his youth, the
partner of his life, the daughter of his own people!
Hagar was from this hour abandoned by Abraham to her mistress. When
Sarah resumed the authority belonging to her station, she assumed with
it a power never before exercised. Forgetting all the love of past
years, all the claims of the present hour upon her kindness and
forbearance, she treated the unhappy Hagar with such intolerable
harshness, that the wretched woman fled from the face of her mistress
and from the tents of her master, and sought refuge in the wilderness.
We can conceive what bitter, despairing thoughts, what a keen sense of
injustice and injury may have pressed upon her, as she sat alone by the
fountain in the desert. Probably a little spot of green herbage denoted
the presence of water, while, all around, lay the sandy, rocky desert.
The stars, in the brightness of an oriental night, were looking down on
her as she sat alone, her face buried in her hands, unheeded, there to
die. Then came the visions of her youth, the remembrances of her
childhood, the sound of her mother's voice, the dream of her smile--then
the tent of Sarah--then the alliance with her master, the excitement of
her pride, the flush of hope, the exultation of a fancied triumph over
the childless, but still honoured wife; succeeded by the cold withdrawal
of all the kindness of the patriarch, and the entire abandonment of her
whom he had taken to his bosom, to the implacable resentment of her
former mistress!
The temper of Hagar, the feelings thus excited--dark, sullen, bitter,
revengeful--when she fled from all, may have been impressed upon her
offspring, and thus marked the future character of her race.
Still, Hagar was not alone. The wanderer was not forgotten. In the hour
of darkness and of desolation, there is One nigh even to those who
forget him. "And the angel of the Lord found her by the fountain in the
wilderness, and he said: Hagar, Sarah's maid, whence camest thou? And
whither wouldst thou go?"
She was not addressed as the wife of Abraham. The conventional usage, so
opposed to the positive institution, was not recognised and thus
hallowed by Him who had established marriage; and while Hagar was
pitied, she was reminded of her real condition. "And she said, I flee
from the face of my mistress, Sarah. And the angel of the Lord said unto
her, Return unto thy mistress and submit thyself under her hands. And
the angel of the Lord said, Thou shalt have a son, and shalt call his
name Ishmael, because the Lord has heard thy affliction. He shall be a
wild man. His hand will be against every man, and every man's hand
against him--and he shall dwell in the presence of all his brethren. And
she called the name of the Lord that spake unto her, Thou God seest me,
for she said, Have I also here looked after him that seeth me?" implying
a recognition of the unexpected interference, protection and blessing of
God.
The promises of God are always preceded by his commands, and the faith
which clings to the promises is to be tested by the obedience which
alone can make them availing. And when the words of the angel came to
the desolate soul of the woman in the desert, there were admonition,
reproof, and command mingled with promise and blessing. "Return to thy
mistress." Return to thy duty, is the first requirement made of those
God seeks out.
And Hagar humbled herself and obeyed the voice of the Lord. She
returned to her mistress. Trying as it must have been to one so
aggrieved, she submitted to her authority, and again became a member of
the household of Abraham. Had she disobeyed the angel, she and her child
had doubtless perished in the wilderness; but in yielding her proud and
arrogant temper, she secured the future blessing to her race, and
insured the safety of her child, while her submission and gentleness
must have won back Sarah to a kinder temper, to a more forbearing
treatment.
After the birth of Ishmael, there intervened years--long years--in which
Hagar tasted the bitterest cup ever presented to the lips of woman. A
wife unloved, neglected--a mother disregarded--a woman held in bondage
by one who had made her a rival--dwelling in the presence of him who had
put her from him! Her very presence brought reproach and sorrow to
Sarah and Abraham--the violation of the divine institution ever
entailing its penalty.
The wife deserted, neglected, whose hopes have been crushed, ever turns
to her offspring for comfort and sympathy; and ardent was the love,
strong were the ties, which bound the Egyptian mother to the son of the
patriarch; and in Ishmael must all the hopes and affections of Hagar
have centred. Could she, indeed, have penetrated the future, could she
have seen her race, the seed of her son, filling the desert and dwelling
as princes; while the seed of Sarah and of Abraham were held, as if in
retribution of her own sufferings, in bondage in her own native
land,--could she have passed through the intervening ages and seen the
children of Ishmael issuing from their desert and setting their feet
upon the necks of the proudest and mightiest, imposing their faith upon
a world, while they marched forth conquering and to conquer--could she
have contrasted the triumphant warriors of Arabia, the caliphs of the
east and the west, with the wandering, desolate, persecuted,
trodden-down tribes of Israel--the proudest expectations of the woman
and the mother would have been all answered. Could she have penetrated
the meaning of the words she must have so often pondered, she would have
found that the loftiest dreams of the rankest ambition were to be more
than realized.
But dimly and faintly must she have apprehended the meaning of the
mysterious prophecy, even while she trusted the accompanying promise. As
she saw Ishmael, the only child in the tent of the patriarch, and loved
by the father, she perhaps allowed herself to hope that he was yet to be
the heir, and that in his future honours she was to find a full
recompense for all the trials of her blighted youth.
After long years of waiting, Sarah embraced a son, and the event, so
joyous to the parents, awoke afresh the bitter remembrances of Hagar,
while it roused her to the consciousness of her present lot and of all
the injuries inflicted upon her.
In all the trials and sorrows through which she had passed, she had had
none to sustain or sympathize with her. Her child remained her only
earthly hope; and now she felt that another was to supplant him, and
thus disappoint all her expectations.
Her spirit rose in pride and wrath, and she infused her own bitter
feelings into the heart of her child. When Isaac was hailed as the heir,
while all rejoiced, Hagar and Ishmael mocked both the infant and the
aged parents.
Forbearance was no longer safe, and the decision of Sarah was wise,
though harsh--yet it was sad to Abraham. Ishmael was still his son--his
first-born. He had been ever dear to him; and when the angel of the Lord
had again confirmed the promise of a seed in whom all the nations of the
earth were to be blessed, he had almost seemed to overlook it as he
pleaded for the son of the bond-woman, "Oh that Ishmael might live
before thee!" while to Abraham was then confirmed the promise given
before the birth of her child to Hagar. There was sorrow and perplexity
in the heart of Abraham, but a message from heaven confirmed the decree
of Sarah.
The patriarch arose, after a night of conflict and prayer, while the
stars were still shining in the heavens, while the flocks lay in
stillness around the tents, and before those who had revelled and
rejoiced were awake, and called Hagar and her child. Can we not see
them in the gray of the morning? The father, the mother, the
child,--the patriarch, aged, but not bowed by age, still retaining the
vigour of manhood--the boy shy, yet half-defying--the mother! In such an
hour, all distinctions of rank and station would be forgotten, and all
the feelings of the woman be roused. Then and there Hagar might well
forget that she was Sarah's bondmaid, and only remember that she had
been Abraham's wife--that she was still Ishmael's mother.
In that hour must have risen the memory of her wrongs, of her saddened
youth, her darkened womanhood--of the selfishness with which he had
wedded her; of the heartlessness with which he had deserted her; of her
long years of trial and contempt. And her eye might speak reproach,
although the lips were closed and there was no voice. Should we not
rejoice to believe that the patriarch whispered some regret for the
past, and spoke of sorrow and repentance to her whose happiness he had
so selfishly sacrificed, even as he consummated his work by casting her
out, a homeless exile. Such is the enslaving power of custom, so easily
do we blind ourselves to our own delinquencies, that Abraham probably
aggravated Hagar's faults while he overlooked her injuries. He saw in
her but the despiteful, revengeful handmaid; he forgot that she was an
injured wife--a neglected mother.
Yet no words of reproach, of entreaty, or explanation of the past, or
promise for the future, are recorded as having passed between them. He
pronounced the decree, and laid upon the bondmaid, and not upon his
noble boy, the provision for the journey. She turned from the tents, and
thus they parted!
But the connection of Abraham and Hagar had woven a thread into the
destiny of nations, still to be traced. She left the patriarch in
sorrow, in bitterness of soul; but she went out to found nations, to
punish rulers, to establish a long line who should transmit the name of
her son and the influence of her character to remotest ages--even to the
end of time.
Accustomed to the wandering life of the desert, and provided for the
journey, Abraham probably deemed Hagar competent to guide her steps to a
place of safety. But sorrow may have blinded her eyes, or despair made
her reckless, and she was lost in the desert. The water was spent in the
bottle--tons of gold could not open a fountain in the desert--and she
saw her child parched with thirst, "faint and ready to die; and she cast
him under one of the shrubs, and went and sat a good way off, as it were
a bow-shot, for she said, Let me not see the death of the child; and as
she sat over against him, she lifted up her voice and wept. And God
heard the voice of the lad, and the angel of God called to her out of
heaven and said unto her, What aileth thee Hagar? Fear not! For God hath
heard the voice of the child where he is. Arise, lift up the lad, and
hold him in thy hand, for I will make of him a great nation. And God
opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water, and she went and filled
the bottle with water, and gave the lad to drink." What an inimitable
description of a mother's love! What a display of the watchful
benevolence of Jehovah!
In this hour of desolation, when no human aid was near, there was again
the Divine interposition, while there was no reproach, no allusion even
to that sinful temper which had led to the banishment of both mother and
child, and caused them to come here to perish in the wilderness. Blessed
be God that he does not suffer the unworthiness of his children to
separate them from his love; that in the hour of extremity he is still
nigh; that his ear is ever open to hear and his arm ready to save.
"And God was with the lad: and he grew and dwelt in the wilderness, and
became an archer; and he dwelt in the wilderness of Paran." And his
mother still dwelt with him; and in all his wanderings, wherever his
footsteps were turned, there was her home. There is a touching
remembrance of her early life, in the fact that Hagar chose a wife for
her son from among the daughters of her own people: "She took him a wife
out of the land of Egypt." And from this union have sprung the tribes
who still fill the deserts where Hagar sought a refuge. A wild race,
dwelling in the presence of all their brethren, whose hand is against
every man, while every man's hand is against them.
Ishmael rose rapidly to rank, and Hagar lived to rejoice in his
prosperity. The life which commenced in want, privation and wandering in
the wilderness, conducted her to wealth and honour. So dark and
inscrutable are the ways of Providence, that at each step we are taught
but to seek the path of duty and obey the direction of Heaven.
The children of Ishmael seem to have long preserved the knowledge of
Jehovah. Hagar, who had received so many proofs of the being, power, and
providence of the God of Abraham, might well instruct her descendants in
the principles of the true faith. The race of Ishmael have still
preserved the rite which Abraham received as the seal of faith. Often
may Hagar have recounted the providences of God--the account she had
heard, in the tent of Abraham, of the creation, the fall, the deluge,
the re-peopling of the world; and often, in the course of their
wandering lives, she may have led her descendants to those deep waters
which covered the guilty cities of the plain, and then described them as
she knew them before the wrath of God fell upon them.
The tribes of Ishmael have ever recognised their descent from Abraham;
and the instructions of Hagar are preserved as national traditions to
this very day, though exaggerated by Eastern fancy, and mingled with
wilder romance, as they have been transmitted from one generation to
another by the children of Ishmael, who still lead their flocks in the
same valleys, and pitch their tents by the same fountains to which Hagar
resorted with Ishmael.
Hagar and Ishmael were no more members of Abraham's household, yet the
relationship of father and son was ever recognised. Doubtless Abraham
imparted of his wealth to his first-born; and as Abraham often sojourned
afterwards in Beer-sheba, probably not far from the spot where Hagar and
Ishmael so nearly perished, the father and son may have often met; and
Isaac and Ishmael may have held kindly intercourse, when the bitter
feelings of rivalry and of conscious wrong had subsided. The ties of
kindred were still allowed, and Esau sought a wife from the family of
his own kindred, as a means of conciliating his father and mother; thus
showing that a purer morality and a higher religious feeling were
cherished than those among surrounding tribes. And when Abraham died,
having attained a full age, his sons, Isaac and Ishmael, both far
advanced in years, buried him. The strifes, the bitterness, the hate of
early life seem to have been forgotten, and they united in the last
offices of filial love and duty.
The son of the bondmaid had attained, during the life of Abraham, a
distinction beyond that of the son of the wife; and his immediate
descendant rose to wealth and honour, while, if one branch of Isaac's
family tasted prosperity, those recognised as the heirs of that
mysterious blessing were long known as wanderers, and then despised as
slaves. Their long line of descent has run parallel, side by side,
distinct, unmingled; recognising a common origin, but never
acknowledging a common brotherhood. The oldest nations of the
earth,--the one exiled from the land given them, dwelling as outcasts
and strangers among all the nations of the earth, yet still separate,
apart, a peculiar people; the other living at this day in the deserts
where Hagar wandered, and where she fainted--a never-conquered people.
And while Assyrian, Greek, and Roman have swept the world and exacted
tribute of the nations around them, and other tribes have been swept
with the besom of destruction, the sons of Ishmael have still dwelt in
the presence of their brethren, ever enforcing, but still refusing to
pay tribute--free and wild as the lad who first became an archer in the
wilderness. Unconsciously confirming prophecy, and still attesting the
truth of a revelation which they contemn and deny,--thus strangely
dwelling so different from all other nations,--preserving the initiatory
rites and the mystic symbols of the faith of Abraham, the customs and
traditions of the age of the patriarch,--these nations dwell distinct,
separate from each other and from all other nations, awaiting the day
when blindness shall be removed from the eyes of the children of
promise, and the descendants of Sarah and of Hagar shall be both
gathered with the fold of Christ.
There are Hagars of modern, as well as of ancient days,--of western as
of eastern lands. She who is wedded from interest and convenience; she
who forms a heartless union from pride and ambition; she who awakes from
her dreams of bliss to find herself an unloved, and perhaps to become a
deserted wife--all these prove the bitterness of the lot of the Egyptian
Hagar. He who has ordained marriage has graciously implanted the
affections which are to make it a source of happiness; and those who
form this union under other motives and influences run fearful risks.
There are many Hagars in the highest ranks of life, and even where the
artificial distinctions of society are most highly regarded and
carefully recognised.
When youth is wedded to age or sacrificed to decrepitude to promote some
State policy, though the victims are not clothed in the garb of the
Egyptian slave, but arrayed in the pomp of regal vestments, yet the
diamond often rests upon an aching brow, and the pearls press a
saddened bosom; and when the holiest of earthly institutions is thus
violated, each relation of life is profaned; and polluted streams
descend from the highest sources and diffuse their poison through all
the ranks of life--through all the gradations of society.
There will still be Hagars--women who marry for a home, or a support;
and especially while woman is educated to be helpless--unable to provide
for her own wants; or while that prejudice is cherished which leads her
to deem useful employment a degradation.
* * * * *
HAGAR'S EXILE.
She fled, with one reproachful look
On him who bade her go,
And scarcely could the patriarch brook
That glance of voiceless wo:
In vain her quivering lips essay'd
His mercy to implore;
Silent the mandate she obey'd,
And then was seen no more.
The burning waste and lonely wild
Received her as she went;
Hopeless, she clasp'd her fainting child,
With thirst and sorrow spent.
And in the wilderness so drear,
She raised her voice on high,
And sent forth that heart-stricken prayer
"Let me not see him die!"
Her beautiful, her only boy,
Her all of hope below;
So long his father's pride and joy,
And yet--from _him_ the blow!
Alone she must his head sustain,
And watch his sinking breath,
And on his bright brow mark the stain
Of the destroyer, Death.