Section I.

Characteristic Difference between profane and sacred History--the Shunammite introduced--her Hospitality--Proposes to her Husband to accommodate Elisha with a Chamber--the Gratitude manifested by the Prophet in offering to speak for her to the King--her Reply expressive of Contentment--various Considerations calculated to promote this Disposition--Advantages of a daily and deep Impression of the transitory Nature of our Possessions, and of keeping another Life in view.

How strikingly different is the course of profane and sacred history! The former, searching out the most prominent characters that figure upon the stage of life, exhibits them in pompous language, and, by emblazoning their actions with the lustre of high-wrought description and extravagant panegyric, conceals from view those moral blemishes which a nearer inspection, through the medium of a more dispassionate narrative, would discover in all their enormity. Hence the Alexanders and Cæsars of the world, whose mighty ambition, in marching to take possession of unoffending empires, has trampled on the rights of man, the fruits of industry, and the comforts of domestic life, and whose laurels are died with the blood of humanity, have nevertheless had their names transmitted with loud applause from age to age. High station, noble birth, great talents, or marvellous exploits, though associated with daring crime, constitute a sufficient passport to the historic page, which too often extols where it ought to censure: and instructs us to venerate a name which should rather be execrated.

Sacred history pursues a different course. It records, indeed, the actions of the unworthy as well as of the pious; not that we should be roused to rapturous admiration of their achievements, but, by tracing the dreadful outline of their characters, and the fatal consequences of their guilt, be incited to avoid their vices. In general, those individuals whom civil history overlooks, are found in the inspired records, while "the mighty" and "the noble" remain unnoticed. Some few instances, indeed, of the lives of great men, in point of station and rank, furnish exceptions to this observation; but they are introduced, not because they were great, but because they were pious; or, if impious, because they stood connected with the church of God. Scripture does not so much furnish the history of the world as the history of the church and of human nature. It aims to instruct, not to amuse or astonish; and that, by the exhibition of characters remarkable in any respect for their efforts to oppose or to promote the purposes of eternal wisdom, or for the exhibition, in a private sphere, of those principles, the knowledge of whose diversified operations might prove useful to posterity.

Shunem, or Sunam, a city of the tribe Issachar, would have been scarcely noticed or known but for the residence of an opulent female, who is Herself rendered forever illustrious in consequence of her friendship for the prophet Elisha, and the eminence of her religion: but, though "a great woman," her name is omitted in the narrative--of so little importance are those distinctions upon which mankind value themselves so highly! She is simply designated the Shunammite, after the name of her city.

[Sidenote: Years before Christ, about 835]

The inspired narrator notices, in the first place, the warmth of her hospitality, and its unabating continuance to Elisha. On a certain occasion, when he went to Shunem, she urged him to visit her, which issued in such a mutual esteem, that "as oft as he passed by, he turned in thither to eat bread." Among the ancients, and in a simple state of society, where the accommodations of modern travelling were unknown, the entertainment of strangers was considered as one of the first of duties. In all the Arab villages this necessary practice prevails. The sheikh, or principal person, generally invites strangers to his house, furnishes them with eggs, butter, curds, honey, olives, and fruit, when there is not sufficient time to dress meat: and, if they choose to remain during the night, they are treated with the utmost kindness. The Arabs value themselves highly upon their hospitality. "How often," says one of their poets, "when echo gave me notice of a stranger's approach, have I stirred my fire that it might give a clear blaze. I flew to him as to a prey, through fear that my neighbours should get possession of him before me." [[41]]

The Scriptures furnish many examples of this duty. Abraham, in entertaining three strangers, is said to have "entertained angels unawares;" Lot received two angels into his house, who appeared as strangers in the streets of Sodom: Job affirms of himself, "The stranger did not lodge in the street; I opened my doors to the traveller;" a good widow, in the apostolic age, is described as washing the saints' feet, relieving the afflicted, and lodging strangers; and Gaius is represented as receiving Christian ministers into his house as his own children.

Although a considerable difference of circumstances exists in more civilized countries, and in this age, so as to render such an extensive hospitality impossible, as well as in many cases unsafe; yet no change of custom and no lapse of time can preclude the duty itself, or diminish the force of the apostolic admonition, "be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." If an indiscriminate admission of strangers into the domestic circle might, in our case, be productive of great inconveniences, benevolence requires that those acts of kindness should be shown to others which comport with our means and opportunities, and that we should aim at such moderation in our usual expenditure as shall enable us to discharge the obligations of Christian charity. How, otherwise, can we "do unto others as we would that others should do unto us?" The wheel of Providence is perpetually revolving, and who knows but that he who is now at the summit of worldly prosperity, or in the full enjoyment of an easy competence, may soon be brought down to the level of the needy; and, though he may be in a condition to confer kindness to-day, may have to solicit it to-morrow? Who can be insensible to the privilege of the Saviour's final benediction, "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me."

The Shunammite did not entertain a stranger merely, but a prophet; and, from the conversation of Elisha, doubtless derived that spiritual edification which induced her to solicit his future friendship. Others came, departed, and were forgotten; but religion in each heart converted these strangers into friends, and cemented a holy union, which neither time, nor change, nor death, could dissolve.