Armed with a holy trust in God, the king and his people advanced to meet their multitudinous enemies with bounding heart and tuneful lip. Nor were they unwarranted in so doing; the event completely justified their hopes. We learn - I, THAT OUR ENEMIES SOMETIMES DISPOSE OF ONE ANOTHER. (Ver. 23.) We sometimes find that the enemy is best "left well alone." Let Shimei "cast stones" at us; even though they be words of false accusation, they will do him much more harm than they will do us. Let the enemy blaspheme; his profanities will be a dead weight in his own balances. Let men make virulent attacks on our holy religion; they will answer one another; we can better spend our time (as a rule) in positive endeavours to build up the kingdom of God.

II. That, under God's hand, THE EVIL WE FEAR IS MORE THAN BALANCED BY THE GOOD WE GAIN. When the Jewish army returned from the wilderness of Tekoa, richly laden with spoil (ver. 25), they would doubtless have said that it was much better for them to have had their agitation followed by their success than not to have had any invasion of the enemy. They certainly congratulated themselves upon the entire incident, and, in their hearts, blessed those Moabites and Ammonites for giving them such an opportunity of enrichment. When God is on our side we may expect that our dangers will disappear, and that from the things that threaten us we shall ultimately derive blessing. Such is now and ever "the end of the Lord" (John 5:11; Job 42:10). Only we must make quite sure that God is on our side; and this we can only do by making a full surrender of ourselves to him and to his service, and by seeing to it that we choose the side of righteousness and of humanity, and not that of selfishness and of guilty pride.

III. THAT GOODNESS OF HEART SHOULD FIRST TAKE THE FORM OF GRATITUDE. Whither but to "the house of the Lord" should that jubilant procession move? (ver. 28). Gladness finds its best utterance in sacred song, its best home in the sanctuary of God. Thus and there it will be chastened; it will be pure, it will be moderated, it will leave no sting of guilty memories behind. Moreover, if we are not first grateful to God for our mercies, but rather gratulatory of ourselves, we shall nurse a spirit of complacency that is likely to lead us astray from the humility which is our rectitude and our wisdom.

IV. THAT IT IS WELL WHEN OUR TRIUMPH IS LOST IN THE FURTHERANCE OF THE CAUSE OF GOD. It was much that Jerusalem was safe; but it was more that "the fear of God was on all the kingdoms" (ver. 29). We may heartily rejoice that our own person, our own family, our own country, has been preserved; we may much more rejoice when the cause and kingdom of Christ has been greatly advanced. This should be the object of our solicitude and of our rejoicing.

V. THAT REST IS THE RIGHTFUL PURCHASE OF LABOUR AND OF STRIFE. (Ver. 30.) The country that has won its religious liberty by heroic suffering and strife (as with Holland) may well settle down to a long period of rest and peace. The man who has gone through several decades of anxious and laborious activity may well enjoy a long evening of life when the burden is laid down and the sword is sheathed. The quieter service of the later years of life seems a fitting prelude to the peaceful and untiring activities which constitute the rest of immortality.

VI. THAT THE WORTHIEST HUMAN LIVES DO NOT CORRESPOND TO OUR IDEAL. If we were to construct an ideal human life, we should not introduce another unwise combination (ver. 37)add a disastrous expedition to cast a shadow on its closing years. Yet this was the case with Jehoshaphat. Our lives, even at their best, do not answer to our conceptions of what is perfectly beautiful and complete. We must not look for this, for we shall very seldom find even the appearance of it. We must take the good man as God gives him to us, with a true soul, with a brave spirit, with a kind and faithful heart, with a character that is very fair and perhaps very fine, but that leaves something to be desired; with a ]ire that is very useful and perhaps very noble, but that bears marks of blemish even to the end. - C.

The word valley is a poem in itself; it is associated with a great deal that is beautiful, comforting, and that gives the soul a sense of security and plentifulness. The Bible is full of valleys, as it is full of wells. What is this valley of Berachah? In some senses I do not care much for it; I know it means the valley of blessing, and that the people, in whom I have not the slightest confidence at all, sang themselves hoarse in the valley of Berachah because they were fed like oxen that were to be slaughtered. That is what the people were doing in the valley of Berachah. To me their blessing goes for nothing until I have deeply inquired into the motive of the hymn, the intent and the genesis of the ringing psalm. It was all right enough within given limits, but the limits themselves were wrong. No doubt there had been great victories, no doubt Jehoshaphat and his people came to take away the spoil of them that had been overthrown; and they found abundance of riches. I listened with reluctance to their selfish psalm. God might see some good in it; God sees good wherever it exists, in how poor soever a form. Sometimes the goodness is like a little starveling thing that has got no blood, no fire in the eyes, and no real trust in the soul — a kind of living, self-vexing speculation. Who would not sing in carrying off all these precious jewels? There is a better time for singing than the time of all this commercial aggrandisement and secular comfort. One little song of patience is worth the whole of this blaring noise. There is another valley mentioned in Numbers 32:9 — "the valley of Eshcol." What valley is that? 'Tis the valley of grapes and summer fruits, all of which we may pluck, because it is the intent of Divine love that we should possess ourselves of such luxuriant vineyards. Do we not suddenly come upon the grapes intellectual, social, educational, spiritual? Is not hunger itself often surprised by unexpected plentifulness? Yet sometimes men cannot believe even in this uncrushed wine of the grape; they will hasten home and say, "Do not, we beseech thee, venture in that direction; grapes enough there may be, even to abundance, but we had better remain where we are; can a man live upon grapes? We cannot tell what there may be beyond the river or on the other side of the mountain; here, you see, we have grapes enough; until we have drunken of this wine why should we strike our tents and go ahead? "We may pervert some little mean proverbs of our own, and say, "Better bear the ills we have than fly to others that we know not of." We have grapes to-day: why should we care about to-morrow? Thus enthusiasm is killed, and all daring, high exploit, and noble endeavour. Ambition may be perverted, but ambition may be one of the forms or aspects of inspiration. It is the future that draws us on, it is the prophetic assurance of some fiery man that a mile further on and we shall have it that keeps the world young and keep the rust away. You cannot silence the divinely inspired and most restless man. We could rouse him and say, Now, why not be content? why not rest and be thankful? of course there may be higher heights and wider landscapes, let us admit all that for a moment; but why worry ourselves about it? there may be something beyond the grave; when we die we shall see what there is. Perhaps not; there is a right way of dying. The world has been kept going by what foolish people would call sensationalism. The very persons who now wrap their rugs around them and enjoy the immediate comfort of the day owe the very rugs in which they wrap themselves to the sensationalism of a former time that could not be kept back from the wilderness or the jungle or the far-away land, no, not by the roaring sea and the tempest that seemed to be an embodied destruction. Do not live yourselves down into saplessness and reluctance to move. And it is easy for some persons to come and sanction such indolence, but we want the true spies to say to us, "We have seen a land worth going to; it grows life, it is warm with summer, it is boundless with an illimitable hospitality." Young souls, do not be frightened by the man sitting next you, for he is no man, he is hardly a figure in wax. In Hosea there is a glorious valley — "the valley of Achor" (Hosea 2:15). What is the meaning of Achor in this connection? what is the broad spiritual interpretation of Achor? It may be given in two little words, each word a syllable, one of the words a letter'. "a door of hope." I have given thee a new. beginning, new chances, new opportunities, new mornings; this is not the end, this is the beginning; there is the great wall, go grope in blindness, but with finger-tips that can see; thou wilt in that great blank wall find a door; it is there, I made it, I made it for thee; I know the blankness of the wall, but on my word go thou forth and grope for the door, the Achor that will give thee visions beyond big as horizons, big as firmaments, big as outlined heavens: go forth in the spirit of hope. We are saved by hope. We are not saved by depression. There is a new beginning for you if you please to avail yourself of it. I have heard your story about lost opportunities and a wasted life and failure upon failure. That is atheistic controversy; you had better know it, it spoils your life. What the preacher is set to do is to proclaim the door of hope; salvation by hope, hope that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. In the book of Isaiah we have a beautiful valley; in chapter Isaiah 22:1 we read about "the valley of vision." That is a large valley, that valley is worth living in. To live with people who have always seen new lights, new possibilities, and new and brighter interpretations than have ever been realised before; that is companionship, that is resurrection. Who cares for those dullards who never see new lights, new companions, and the outlines of new springs and summers in the morning sky? What a poor life it is to live without vision! In Isaiah 28:1 we come into "fat valleys." The poor drunkards were all lying down dead drunk and choked and suffocated with their own wine of fatness. They were pampered creatures; their soul was subordinated to the body, they were all flesh and next to no spirit. There are fat valleys that have no fatness of the true sort. Then there are valleys that are spiritually rich with all manner of nutritious food. There is a wine that has no intoxication in it, there is a wine that does not carry the seal of death. Into those fat valleys, and not into the other, may God lead us. Can Ezekiel be alive and not take his position in this great question of valleys? Ezekiel saw a valley, it was a valley of dry bones. Read 2 Chronicles 37:1 and the context. It was an awful valley, a valley of death. "Son of man, can these bones live?" And the son of man said, "O Lord God, Thou knowest." The wisest answer to every Divine inquiry: refer the question back; let Him who propounds the problem solve it. I wish we could read all about the valleys. There is a beautiful historical expression: "So we abode in the valley." We wanted to climb the green banks and get up to the points and coigns that catch the earliest kiss of the sun, but seeing that it was better for us to take another course, seeing that we had better obey God than obey your own fancy or whim, we abode in the valley. Abode in a dark, cold place? No; you are misinterpreting the word valley when you attach such epithets to it. I read of other valleys. The valleys are covered over with corn. That is never said about the snow mountains. Have the valleys no compensations? Is sickness itself without advantages? When you are weak are you not sometimes strong? Where did you get the little flower from? I know not that I have seen aught sweeter for many a day: what is it? The lily of the valley. Tell me there is no compensation in poverty, in sickness, in weakness, and even in failure and disappointment? It was in the valley that the lily grew.

(J. Parker, D.D.)