Elisha, the successor and in many respects the continuator of Elijah, is also, in much, a contrast to his great predecessor. Elijah, "my God is Jehovah," the stern uncompromising witness for God in an age of well-nigh universal apostasy; the executor of judgment, who can call down fire from heaven upon God's enemies-he is the figure of John the Baptist, calling in a later though similar day Israel to repentance. Elisha, "my God is Savior," beautifully answers to his name in his ministry, which is largely in blessing rather than in judgment. How God would seek in every way,-by severity and by gentleness, by famine and by plenty-to reach the heart and touch the conscience of His poor people ! Alas ! whether Elijah or Elisha, whether judgment or grace, neither kings nor people profited much by the presence among them of these men of God. Of them it could be said as of the Jews by our Lord when He was here, " Whereunto shall I liken this generation ? It is like unto children sitting in the markets, and calling unto their fellows, and saying, We have piped unto you and ye have not danced; we have mourned unto you and ye have not lamented. For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say he hath a devil. The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, Behold a man gluttonous, and a wine-bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners." (Matt. 11:16-19.) Man is the same in all times- as indifferent to-day as in those days. It is good to remember that even in such times there are " wisdom's children," who will not bow to Baal, nor join the careless throng of the indifferent.

But, whether hearkened to or despised, Elisha's time has come to die. All his service of mercy is to end-so far as sight goes-in the grave. There comes a time when God withdraws the witness and leaves the despisers to themselves. Dark indeed had been the history of Israel and her kingdom. Begun in rebellion and schism (no matter how clearly foreseen and foretold, nor how much it was the result of and judgment for Solomon's departure from God); established and confirmed by the idolatry of the golden calves at Dan and Bethel,-sad reminders of an earlier apostasy in the wilderness, and proving their unchanged hearts-there had been little to attract, less to commend. The partial and infrequent reformations, as under king "Jehu, never brought them as a people back to God, never passed the barrier of that first unjudged sin-fruitful source of all their later departures.

Now, however, as the lonely and patient man of faith is about to leave them forever, the heart-shall we say conscience ?-of the king is touched. He remembers, doubtless, the succor given by the prophet, his many acts of mercy, his constant and faithful witness for God in the midst of Israel, and he realizes the solemnity of such a man departing. A sense of his and Israel's loss sweeps away for the time the hardness of his pride, and, like a child bidding farewell to a loved parent, he weeps over his face, crying out," O my father, my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof !"-a repetition of the words used by Elisha as he saw Elijah taken up and apparently with similar meaning. Well may the king weep, for the flickering lamp of Israel's hope seems dying in that lowly chamber; and well might the prophet have replied, "Weep not for the dead, neither bemoan him; but weep for him that goeth away, for he shall return no more, nor see his native country." (Jer. 22:10.) Soon would Israel be carried captive from her land, to return no more, until God Himself brings her back in a day yet to come.

But when did the God of all mercy ignore-at least in this the time of mercy-tears of distress ? How amazingly does His willingness to spare come out, in the narrative of Abraham's intercession for Sodom. Even ten righteous would save the doomed city-ten, alas! not found. Though the turning to God is but partial, though his tears are rather those of selfishness, in view of Israel's danger, and not of repentance for Israel's sin, God meets the poor king's need. The wretched king Ahab furnishes another most striking illustration of this goodness and mercy in God. (i Kings 21:25-29.) After the horrible murder of Naboth and the solemn sentence of God's judgment upon him and his house, Ahab, moved no doubt by fear, puts on sackcloth, fasts, and walks softly; and at once the word of a just and patient God says to Elijah (doubtless He spoke to unwilling ears, for Elijah loved judgment), " Seest them how Ahab humbleth himself before Me ? because he humbleth himself before Me, I will not bring the evil in his days." How true it is for the lost, that it is because of their hardness of heart, of their despising God's mercy, that He is compelled to execute His "strange work."

So in answer to the tears and entreaties of king Joash, grace will give help and blessing,-give until
it is hindered by the recipient from giving any longer. Mercy will meet the king as far as he will let it. The dying prophet bids the king take warlike weapons, the bow and arrow, suited for long distance warfare, not the hand to hand life and death struggle with a foe that has well-nigh mastered him. Little power had such weapons in the king's hands; this had been shown already; for Israel was hemmed in by powerful foes. But now, upon his incompetent hands are laid the trembling hands of the dying prophet. Of what avail ? What can such feeble hands do, already stiffening in death ? Ah, they are the hands of God's man, and this is ever God's way, always above nature, most frequently contrary to nature. These stiff, trembling hands of the old prophet have the power of omnipotence behind them-laid on the bow held in the king's feeble grasp, they make all the difference between man's incompetency and God's all-sufficiency.

Applying these lessons to our own times, we find many points of resemblance. Like Israel, God's people have shown utter weakness, lamentable failure. Like Israel, they have received many a prophetic messenger, bringing words both of gentleness and severity. Like Elisha's death, the messenger may fail and the message seem to fade away. Like Israel's king, God's people may and should be awakened to their danger at the seeming departure of God's word-old truths losing their vividness and power. The foe presses upon us; our danger is imminent-horses and chariots seem about departing. It has been always thus with God's people, both individually and collectively. The Lord was personally with them but a short time, and left them, so far as the world saw, a cross and a tomb. Every fresh help has been followed by the dimming of it-always because of man's unbelief and failure. So far as sight is concerned, this lowly chamber of death is the fitting figure of the condition of God's people. The cross and tomb of Christ is all that earth sees, all that merely human hope has, and as we realize afresh how nothing lasts here, how no blessing abides of itself, we are brought where Israel's king was brought-to the chamber of death. Blessed be God there is more than this,-but the sentence of death must be felt, we enter into blessing through death.

But whose death ? Whom docs that dying prophet prefigure? May we not say Christ? May we net say that death chamber speaks of His death, and those hands laid upon the bow held in our helpless hands, of Him who was "crucified through weakness " ? Blessed be God, there is the open window eastward too.

The king is told to open the window that looked eastward, and shoot his arrow through that open window, and as the gleaming shaft wings its flight, the dying prophet exclaims, "The arrow of the Lord's deliverance." There are two words for east in the Hebrew scriptures-"the sun rising,"and "that which opposes." It is this last which is used here most significantly. The king was bid not to open the window westward, where the great sea and the Philistines were, nor north, with its unknown and hostile tribes, nor south, towards the wastes where once Israel wandered forty years,-he was to open the one which looked in the face of the opposing enemy. He was not to blind his eyes to the real condition by which he was confronted. With window open toward the opposing hosts he was to send forth the arrow, at once a defiance, as it were, and a pledge of victory – "the arrow of the Lord's deliverance."

We too must face our foes, what opposes us, if we are to see the Lord's deliverance. We are not to look westward, for that is to look backward. " Forgetting the things that are behind," is the Christian's watchword – part of it at least. What do we gain by alway looking backward ? " Bitter memories " crowd thick and fast upon us till we are well nigh "swallowed up of over much sorrow." " It might have been," – ah ! it might have been, but that is past now, gone behind into the great sea, "the hinder sea, " thank God buried in His grace. Why should we look out of the westward window ? Nor is it wiser to look northward. North is the cold dark land of mystery, away from the sunlight. How many turn with bitter sighs of unavailing regret from the backward gaze, only to look north to what may perhaps be. What dire and dread contingencies has the future for us – what of sorrow or of trial, yea, what of heart-breaking failure. Thank God, it is too dark to pierce through. We do not, cannot, and surely we can add, we would not know what the future has in store for us. Nor let us turn to the south window. Very soft and soothing may be the winds that blow from that quarter, but they are proverbially deceitful. (Acts. 27:13-15.) The "streams of the south" are oftener dry and empty than filled with water. Ah ! let us leave our castle building, our dreamy hopes, our south windows, and face the east, that which really lies before us. The clear daylight shines upon it ; it may be stern and forbidding – may fill us with dread, but there is no deception in it, and there is no needless mystery in it,-above all it is before us, and that way lies our path. The enemy is there too, the Syrian who waits his opportunity not merely to rob us, but to carry us off if he is able-away from the heritage given to us of God.

But can we think of "eastward " without other and brighter thoughts pressing upon us ? Eastward is the sunrising. Through the night, no matter how dark and how long, the watcher, looking for day, has his face set eastward. If he knows the secrets of the heavens, he can tell the approach of day

" Before the sun shines forth in majesty"

-that clear bright star that rises while all is yet dark is the sure harbinger of morning-it is the morning star. Are not our faces set toward the day, and are we not "children of the light and of the day " though we wait with the darkness all about us ? The day is before us. We face it. Dangers there are, obstacles, enemies greater and stronger far than we-these are all before us-perhaps,-but the day is surely before us; how soon the "bright and morning star" may rise !

And does not this beautifully connect with the chamber of death ? If that figure for us the tomb of Christ, it is a tomb with its door open toward the day. The arrow has flown from that empty tomb-"the arrow of the Lord's deliverance." It is the Lord Himself, risen from the dead, who has passed on into God's eternal day, for us has passed on. "Christ being raised from the dead, dieth no more, death hath no more dominion over Him." " The Lord has gone up with a shout," the shout of victory. The disciples who stood steadfastly gazing into heaven as they watched the ascending Lord, were but watching the gleaming flight of " the arrow of the Lord's deliverance." The keepers by the side of the sepulcher who for fear and dread became as dead men, are but samples of the victory won for His people by our risen Lord. "Thou hast ascended on high, Thou hast led captivity captive." Oh, beloved brethren, as we contemplate our risen Lord, as we see Him perfectly, fully victorious over all His and our foes- even death vanquished,-does not a holy triumph take possession of us ? Do we not already begin to say, even in view of death itself," Thanks be to God which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ"? And, lest any should think that such a shout of triumph means merely the shout of anticipated victory at last, to evaporate into deadly weakness and failure by the way, the apostle adds, " Therefore my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord." (i Cor. 15:57, 58.)

The resurrection of Christ ! How perfect, how complete the deliverance ! Beginning with the assurance of peace to the anxious soul-"raised for our justification "-it speaks its emancipating message at each point in the believer's onward progress. Sin can have no dominion, for its chains have been broken; the law, holy and just, yet made the occasion for sin's sway to be the more dreadful,-we are out from the sphere to which that has to say; the world, alluring, clinging, defying-we have been delivered from its thraldom; " If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above ;" the thousand daily tribulations that meet us-we can glory in them, for they have neither power to harm or to hold us back since Christ has risen. And this triumph is but consummated at the Lord's coming again. It will be manifest to all the world then. As in the history of a previous king of Israel, who traced the signs of the complete rout of the enemy by the garments and vessels cast away in the haste of their flight all the way to Jordan (2 Kings 7:15), so we can face our foe in the same confidence, for he is a vanquished foe. Our Lord has risen and flashed defiance in the face of all that lies before us. Let us, then, face eastward. Why drift aimlessly on, in weakness doing nothing, till we find ourselves hopelessly held in the strong grasp of a foe that might have been a conquered foe, had we had faith.

For after all, this wondrous victory, this arrow of the Lord's deliverance, may mean almost nothing, or but little for us. After he had seen the arrow flying eastward, the king was told by the prophet to smite with the arrows in his hand, upon the ground. He smote but thrice, and this the prophet tells him means but a partial victory over his foes:"Thou shouldst have smitten five or six times; then hadst them smitten Syria till them hadst consumed it, whereas now thou shalt smite Syria but thrice." Either his faith, or his zeal, or both, were not sufficient. The Lord's deliverance was perfect; the faith which made use of that deliverance was but partial, the actual conquest, therefore, was but partial.

Very simple is the application of this, but most needed and most wholesome. We have seen the perfection of our Lord's triumph in His resurrection, nothing was lacking-He has passed beyond all His and our enemies into heaven-pledge and forerunner of what is ours. But now we take up the weapons of our warfare, and smite. It is not merely Christ's victory for us, but our practical appropriation of this victory. How often do we smite ?

Three is a good number in many connections. If we did not have the prophet's reproof, we might have thought it spoke of resurrection here. But the arrow that was shot spoke of that. Three is also the number of manifestation, and may it not here be used to manifest the strength, or rather weakness of the king's faith ? It was but partial. He thought three victories enough-they would drive the enemy back to their own country, so that they would vex Israel no more during his lifetime, and with this he was satisfied. Perhaps deeper yet there may have been a secret friendship for the foe which would spare him :" He is my brother," said another king of Israel of a foe whom he should have slain. In like manner Saul spared Agag, and Lot longed for Zoar. Ah ! how often do our secret likings betray the cause of our partial victories. Does holiness seem too austere, does the world seem fair," if kept in its place " ? Oh, my brother, does this explain why we have smitten but three times ? Then it is indeed the number of manifestation. Or does full victory seem too great ? Does to walk even as Christ walked seem an impossibility, and have we let our hands hang down through sheer unbelief ? If we have lowered the standard, small wonder if we fail to reach that, after which we have not aimed.

No, in God's name, no. Let us not halt, let us not falter. Let there be no partial work. "A double minded man is unstable in all his ways." He is the partial victor. And how sad is partial victory. It speaks of what might have been, just as well as of what has been accomplished. But let us look at
these other numbers, five and six, and see if they do not have encouragement for us.

Five is made up of four and one. It is the number succeeding four. Four speaks of the creature, therefore often of weakness and of failure under testing. Five is One added to the creature's weakness. Need we say there is no weakness then? Ah! if we realized our weakness, and claimed His strength, there would be practical victory worthy the name. Let us smite five times. Let us own fully our failure, our helplessness, but with it let us claim the living God as our strength. There will be no partial work then.

Six but carries on the thought on the other side. It is the number of restraint, the limit put upon the creature's work and power. It tells therefore of victory over evil. While thus it is the number of the beast, the greatest of all the human enemies of God, it is the number which tells of his defeat; and with his defeat that of the Antichrist, the false prophet, and of Satan himself. Let us then smite six times too, for this means no partial, but a complete victory.

How is it with us, beloved brethren? If as to the past we must confess failure, let us remember, the arrow has flown eastward, and as we mark its triumphant course, let us in the energy of renewed faith take up those weapons of our warfare which are "not carnal but mighty through God," and smite again "five or six times," till the clash of conflict shall be exchanged for the day, "the morning without clouds " which is eastward, and soon to dawn.

"Grace begun shall end in glory,
Jesus He the victory won,
In His own triumphant story
Is the record of our own."