In the present case, it is not to be presumed that Elisha would have ventured, immediately, upon the mere suggestion of Gehazi, to give so important a promise to the Shunammite as that which is here recorded, without first consulting the will of Heaven, or receiving some divine intimation of an event which no human being could foresee, much less make the subject of a solemn prediction.
Upon his announcing so unexpected a mercy, she manifested that sort of incredulity which extreme astonishment blended with joy is calculated at the first moment to produce; and the well-known effect of which accounts for what, under other circumstances, would appear like disrespectful language: "Nay, my lord, thou man of God, do not lie unto thine handmaid." She was too much acquainted with Elisha's character to intend to charge him with deliberate falsehood; but her feelings were suddenly overpowered, and consequently, she was at no leisure to weigh her words. The prophet's prediction was completely verified; and she had a son, "at that season that Elisha had said unto her, according to the time of life,"--"Lo! children are a heritage of the Lord; and the fruit of the womb is his reward."
In reviewing the scriptural account of remote ages, we cannot fail to be struck with several instances of the extreme anxiety of good women for the possession of children; an anxiety which requires some other reason than the general causes to be assigned for domestic and social congratulations common upon such occasions. Sarah, for example, the wife of Abraham, was induced by this desire to practise a piece of wretched and criminal policy, in giving Hagar, her Egyptian handmaid, to her husband. Rachel, the beloved wife of Jacob, was so impatient of her own barrenness, and so envious of her sister, that she exclaimed, "Give me children, or else I die." The fact was, that they were influenced by the promises of God to Abraham, whose posterity were to inherit the most invaluable blessings, and from whom the Messiah himself was to descend in the fulness of time. As in him "all the families of the earth were to be blessed," who can be surprised that the most distant probability or possibility of introducing him, who was to be "born of a woman," into the world, should excite an ardent wish in every pious woman to become a mother? And here it must be admitted, that whatever reproach the first transgressor might have cast upon the female sex by her misconduct, it is forever wiped away by the enviable distinction of becoming instrumental to a Saviour's birth.
The time hastened in which the Shunammite was to be subjected to a species of trial different from that with which she had been hitherto exercised. The congratulations of her connections on the birth of her child were scarcely expressed, and her earthly happiness consummated, when she was destined to suffer acutely by the death of her little favourite.
Those who have never felt a similar deprivation are necessarily disqualified from forming any adequate idea of the bitterness of parental grief, when the objects of their fondest solicitude are suddenly snatched from the grasp of their affections. It is difficult to say in what period of youthful history this stroke is severest, or when it is most tolerable; because every point of age has its peculiar attractions, and parental love will always imagine that to be the most afflicting in which the event occurs. Happy those who can adopt the language of one of the sweetest epitaphs that ever adorned a monument!--
"Liv'd--to wake each tender passion,
And delightful hopes inspire;
Died--to try our resignation,
And direct our wishes higher:--
"Rest, sweet babe, in gentle slumbers,
Till the resurrection morn;
Then arise to join the numbers,
That its triumphs shall adorn.
"Though, thy presence so endearing,
We thy absence now deplore;
At the Saviour's bright appearing,
We shall meet to part no more.
"Thus to thee, O Lord, submitting,
We the tender pledge resign;
And, thy mercies ne'er forgetting,
Own that all we have is thine." [[45]]
It is not unusual for the providence of God to deprive us of those objects we had too exclusively and too fondly called our own, and the long enjoyment of which we had confidently anticipated. This is no capricious proceeding: it is marked by wisdom and goodness, since our real happiness depends on the regulation of those passions which, but for such dispensations, would rove with unhallowed eccentricity from the chief good. It is necessary that we should be trained in the school of adversity; and that by a course of corrective discipline, nicely adapted to each particular case, our characters should be gradually matured for a nobler existence.