Ahab here, and take example rather from the poor widow of the former chapter, who, though at the brink of starvation, and about to prepare her last meal, gave the first portion to a fellow-sufferer, and received in return a blessing from the Lord.

But we must remark, also, regarding Ahab's conduct here, that the consequence of ungodliness is blindness. See how he comes up to Elijah with the greatest confidence, as if no blame could be thrown upon himself, and the whole calamity were due to the prophet, "Art thou he that troubleth Israel?" His conscience had become blunted by continual transgression, so that it ceased to record the evil which he had committed, or to upbraid him for it. There is a point at which the mercury in the thermometer is itself frozen, and marks no lower degree of cold; and there is a point in the sinner's career when his moral sense becomes torpid, and takes no further note of guilt. Ahab had, I fear, reached that stage in reference to his idolatry, and so he charged Elijah with causing that which was the result of his own sin.

My hearer, unconverted! will you take warning from this case? If you persist in your course, your heart will be hardened into impenetrability; you will become "past feeling," and will meet every messenger of God as if he were a guilty troubler of the community, while you are irreproachable. Thus does the moral nature become positively perverted, putting light for darkness and darkness for light, sweet for bitter and bitter for sweet, good for evil and evil for good. Oh, beware of sinning yourself into such a state! Get a good conscience through faith in Jesus Christ; and keep a good conscience by obedience unto him. Let the eye be single, that your whole body may be full of light; for, "if the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!"

I have now time only for the merest glance at the manner in which the servant of God dealt with each of these men,

according to his character. With Obadiah, the prophet was considerate and tender, seeking even by an oath to remove all cause of anxiety from his heart. With Ahab, he was stern and unbending, so that soon he who came with a swagger went away with a halt. Thus, the true minister of Christ will seek to have words in season for each, according to the disposition of those with whom he comes into contact. With some he will be "gentle as a nurse, cherishing her children;" others he will rebuke sharply. With some he will expostulate tearfully; others he will take by the hand and lead lovingly forward. What a perfect example in this, as in all other respects, has our Lord Jesus left us! He spake in one strain to the sincere but timid Nicodemus, in another to the hypocritical scribes and Pharisees. He dealt in one way

with the woman at the well, and in another with the trembling one who came behind him, seeking almost to steal a cure. He loved the young man who came to him inquiring the way, but retired sorrowfully, not yet prepared to part with his possessions; but he replied with sternness to those who sought to entangle him in his talk.

Brethren, "he that winneth souls is wise." Oh, may God give us who are in the ministry grace and wisdom to say the right thing to the right person at the right time! When one is thus wise as a preacher, he finds "acceptable words, even words of truth," and as he utters them, they become like "goads, or as nails fastened by the masters of assemblies." Seek not to deal with every one after some unvarying method. As the physician suits his prescription to the disease, so let the Christian worker adapt his method to the character of him with whom he has to deal. It is right sometimes to be gentle, and it is right sometimes to be stern; but wisdom is needed to know when each is better. Had Jesus spoken to Nicodemus as he did to those who devoured widows' houses, and for a pretense made long prayers, we should

never have heard of the ruler of the Jews again. Let him who would be useful, therefore, study human nature as well as the Gospel of the Lord, that he may know "to give to each his portion of meat in due season." But when sternness and severity are required, let us be sure that underneath there is a heart full of love to our fellow-sinner and of loyalty to the Lord whom we serve. The sternest things are then the strongest when the tear-drop quivers in the eyes of him who speaks them.

VI.

THE CONFLICT ON CARMEL.

1 KINGS Xviii., 21.

N the shores of the Levant, and immediately to the

south of Acre, there is a range of hills stretching out for five or six miles, and terminating in a somewhat rugged and precipitous promontory. The highest peak, resembling a flattened cone in shape, rises about fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea, and is that which in Scripture is more particularly called Mount Carmel. It is described as the finest and most beautiful mountain in Palestine. Even yet, though the land is lying under a curse, there are evident traces of its former fertility; and in olden times it seems to have answered exactly to its name, which signifies" a fruitful field," or "a country of gardens and vineyards." At its base flows "that ancient river, the river Kishon," and away to the eastward stretches the magnificent plain of Esdraelon, terminating in the glory of Tabor and the mountains of Jordan, while in the far distance northward we catch a glimpse of the snowy peaks of Lebanon.

Turning round and looking toward the west, we see, far as the eye can reach, the blue waves of the Mediterranean shimmering in the sunbeam; to the right lies Acre, far beneath us; and to the left we take in the ruins of Cesaræa, the city on which Herod lavished his magnificence, and in which Paul delivered those unrivaled defenses before Felix, Festus, and Agrippa.

Wherever we look there is either some beauty to satisfy

the eye, or some historical association to stir the heart.

Ev

ery name we mention brings up a memory with it, and he has no true soul within him who can look on such a landscape, in the light of history, without having his spirit roused into enthusiasm, or kindled into rapture.

On that plain before us, what battles have been fought! What questions, with the fate of nations trembling in the balance, have been settled! There Barak and Deborah vanquished the haughty Sisera; there Gideon overcame the Midianites; there the Philistines encountered Saul on that melancholy day when he fled before them to Gilboa, and, to escape their swords, fell upon his own; there the banners of the Crusaders have fluttered in the breeze, and the eagles of Napoleon have been wetted by the evening dews. Here, too, where we stand, on the inner side of Mount Carmel, and near the eastern extremity of the range, in a noble, natural amphitheatre, there was decided, in the most signal and solemn manner, the great question between God and Baal. And, as we gaze upon the scene, we seem to see again the assembled throng of Israel, and to hear anew the voice of the valiant Elijah ringing out, clear and loud, as with the notes of a trumpet, these pointed words: "How long halt ye between two opinions? if the Lord be God, follow him: but if Baal, then follow him."

The exact spot where the events narrated in this chapter occurred has been thoroughly identified, and preserves in its name, El Muhrakah," the sacrifice," a memorial of the event. I can not better describe it than in the words of Dr. Porter, in his article on Mount Carmel, in Alexander's "Kitto:"

"At the eastern extremity of the ridge, where the wooded heights of Carmel sink down into the usual bleakness of the hills of Palestine, is a terrace of natural rock. It is encompassed by dense thickets of evergreens, and upon it are the remains of an old and massive square structure, built of large