detmction, of artificial forebodings that magnify themselves alike so monstrously o.nd so soccessfully. Correspondingly noble and impressive was this woman's effort, whose "No," though she sank because of it, crashed through all the forces that environed her, and its report resounded through a kingdom. The effort, then, the severity of it in relation to its kind, and the object of it, do in this case all command our approval and our strong admiration. Then (2) the cost of this refusal is to be judged from the consequences which ensued. As against conscience, the right, and Divine law, consequences ought to decide nothing, that is to say, they are not to be put in the balance to weigh down one side or the other. These all are to be obeyed m and of themselves. So soon as their voice is heard, understood, and not miscon- ceived, that voice is to be followed, Jet it lead whither it will. Thefr command is sovereign, and they may be well trusted to vindicate it sooner or later. There is indeed a sense in which it is of the highest importance to observe consequences, and to put them into the balance, viz., when we are studying the entire structure of our moral nature. A just observing of consequences therein is then equivalent to a scrutiny of tendencies, and the moral argument from tendencies in this sense is most legitimate, and should be irresistible. To them, when fairly tracked from beginning to end, reverent regard is due, and, once ascertained, the greatest weight should be accorded to them. A partial and broken study of consequences is what is unreliable and proportionately dangerous. Sidelong glances at immediate, or early, or merely present life consequences are what betoken inherent weakness or ignoble timidity of principle. Yet while the consideration of consequences should count nothing against the demands of right, and the commands of conscience and the Divine law, the kind of attention paid to them measures for us conveniently and justly the force or weakness of principle. The temporal consequences which one foresaw or reckoned upon ( even if he deceived himself) will often sufficiently explain what buoyed him up-it was a vision of earthly grandeur, wealth, success, nothing higher. And the temporal, the threatening, the immediately impending consequences which another saw, rather than foresaw, are the significant tell-tale of the high-strung principle, the determined purpose, the noble force, which without a rival reigned within him. The weight of suffering in the hand is vastly greater than that in some undefined distance of prospect. The storm of grief and of sorrow that is now ready to burst on the very head looms terrific. The deposing of a queen, the divorcing of a wife, the disgracing of a woman in the eyes of all men, and of her own sex in particular, vain or not vain-these are consequences that overwhelm I Reckon we so then the cost of consequ,ences to the queen, wife, woman who "refused to come at the king's commandm!lnt.'' Was this not a noble womanly refusal? II. THIS WAS A NOBLE REFUSAL BECAUSE OF THE GROUND OF IT. It can perhaps scarcely be said that there were grounds for it. There were a multitude of (what very many would have considered) reasons why Vashti should not have refused to come, and there might truly have been reasons more than one, had she been differ- ently situated, why she should have done as she actually did. Had she lived, for instance, at a different time of day, had she lived in a different country, had she be- longed to a different race, there might have been some variety of reasons why she should have taken up the position she did, and adhered to it. But in point of fact there was probably great singleness of reason for this her great boldness of utterance and of action. Under certain circumstances one would have been glad to suppose that other considerations also played their part, and had their influence in Vasbti's peremptory negative decision. But we should be artificial, ungenuine, and guilty of an anachronism if we supposed these now. And that we cannot bring these lesser lights to throw their fainter rays on the scene leaves it in the undivided glory of God's light. Here was liis purity shedding its unflickering light on the thick dark- ness of that showy, s~nsual feast. The less we can justly set Vashti's refusal down to the higher conscious reflex acts of our nature, and moral effects resulting from them, the more is it attributable to the calm light of that lamp which God bas hung in the retired and sacred cabinet of the bosom of woman, to decorate it, and to bless with its religious glimmering through the windows all that come near enough, but not too near I It is the lamp of sweet purity, of nature's own modesty, burn- ing ever still with shame I That it is nature's mode!ty means that God's own hand 26 TltE BOOR OF ESTilER. [ell, I. 10-22.
hung it, lighted it. That it wns burning in so unlikely a tilace, in such unfavourable conditions, at such a time, is all comfort and joy to our faith, for it means thnt God's hand he.d been round it, and shielded it so that it we.s not puffed out by the untoward gusts around. And that II frail woman "-borne upon now by every present-time influence, literally thronged with inducements to sink all shame for an hour thnt she might reign still for years, besieged with earthly motives to succumb and yield obe- dience to a coaree command---did refuse to succumb, ran the gauntlet of all con- sequences whataoever, and, with an aroused indignation that would sleep no more, flung back the brutal mandate in the face of him who sent it, is fitted to show us how II in weakness" certain "strength is made perfect," and how the things amazing and "impossible v.;th man, are possible with God;" yes, even facile to hie Spirit's breath.-B.