The company of inspired men, commonly known as the prophets of Israel, were the unique product of the Jewish religious genius. They were pre-eminently preachers of righteousness. Fearless and undaunted, they told the house of Israel their sins and the house of Jacob their transgressions. They contemplated the facts of life from the highest point of view. For them religion and morality were blended, ethics and politics were one. Theirs was peculiarly a social message; the demand for justice underlies all their thinking and speaking. They had a veritable passion for righteousness; through all the ages their words have been torches lighting the way of men struggling upward towards the truth.

Though living over twenty-six hundred years ago, these men are very modern. As a great thinker has well said, "The spirit of the prophets of Israel is in the modern soul." The foremost workers for the welfare of their fellowmen to-day posit social justice as the first article of their program. The world to-day, as never before, is filled with cries for social righteousness as the indispensable foundation for the structure of society. What is this but harking back to the eternal message of the ancient prophets? "Let justice flow as water" passionately and unreservedly demanded Amos of old; for him and his brother prophets this was the sine qua non for society's welfare; the same may be said of the thousands and tens of thousands to-day of every creed and every nation who are toiling for the social salvation of their fellowmen the world over. Ages meet; the words of the ancient preachers of righteousness are still the inspiration for the seekers after justice everywhere.

The story of the life work of these giants of the spirit has often been told, but it can be told none too often, particularly if the telling is well done, as is the case in the present volume. Each one of these men delivered the same message in his own individual and inimitable way. Yet their work was continuous and forms a consecutive tale. In the speeches and experiences of each one of them the eternal truths they present appears in differing light. The author of the present volume approaches his subject, one might say, from the dramatic standpoint, for, with fine insight, he has culled from the lives of the prophets those striking and intense experiences which illustrate most powerfully the indomitable spirit of these men who followed right in scorn of consequence, for were they not the messengers of the God of right whose demand upon men is, as told by one of them in imperishable words, to do justice, to love mercy and to walk humbly with God?

The author has succeeded well in his characterization of the various prophets. His pages glow with the vital spark of each prophet's flaming figure. He has named his book fittingly "Stories of the Prophets," and interesting stories has he told. He has brought to his task not only a sympathetic appreciation of his subject, but an imaginative faculty that has enabled him to supply links in the narrative suggested if not actually given in the incidents preserved in the recorded annals.

From the words of the prophets themselves he has, therefore, occasionally built up situations which if not strictly indicated in the original text may, at any rate, be imagined. Not as predictors of events in the far future, for this the prophets were not, despite frequent interpretations of their words along this line, but as bold speakers of the truth, as fiery preachers of the right, as intrepid champions of the poor and oppressed, as fearless denouncers of corruption and wrong in high places does our author present the leading figures in his book. As such, their words are as significant for us to-day as they were for the men of their generation, and their impassioned accents sound as forcefully now as they did then. This is brought out clearly and strikingly in the sketches of this volume, which without doubt will succeed in giving a vivid picture to the reader of these towering spirtual heroes who belong to the ages, speakers of the everlasting nays and yeas of the Everlasting God.

DAVID PHILIPSON.

CINCINNATI, SEPTEMBER, 1912.

THE SHEPHERD OF TEKOA

CHAPTER I.

An End to War.

"Damascus has fallen!
Damascus has fallen!!"

The whole city of Samaria rang with the glad tidings. Fleet-footed runners, who had started with this precious news on the day of victory, covered more than one hundred and fifty miles to bring it to the capital of the Kingdom of Israel.

They crossed mountains and swam rivers, fairly flew over fertile plains and through busy cities, shouting, while there was breath in their bodies:

"Damascus has fallen!"

Many of the messengers fell exhausted on the way, but others took up the wonderful news from the front and carried it on, until the whole northern part of the kingdom knew of the king's victory.

Little by little the whole story was told to the eager Samarians—how the king, Jeroboam II, himself led the hosts of Israel; how attack followed attack upon the fortified Syrian capital; how the first breach was made in the outer wall; how the valiant Israelites rushed upon the enemy, and how the final victory was won for Israel's standard.

What a celebration was there in Samaria that long-to-be-remembered day!

Not since the days when the first Jeroboam led the rebellion of the ten tribes against King Solomon's weak son, Rehoboam, and established the independent kingdom of the Ten Tribes, with Samaria as the capital, was there such rejoicing in that city.

We can picture the celebration in our mind's eye; we cannot describe it in words.

Parents who had sent their sons to the war now laughed happily through their tears, because there would be an end to war.

Sisters whose brothers doubtless lay dead in and about the walls of the doomed city, now sang songs of joy in the midst of their weeping, because there would be an end to war.

The strongest and finest men of Israel had given their lives for their country, but now, thank God! there would be an end to war.

The fall of Damascus meant the end of a hundred and fifty years' war, commenced by Ben-hadad I, of Syria, against Israel, long before Jeroboam's great-grandfather established the dynasty of Jehu on the throne of Israel.

It meant even more than that; it meant the end of Syrian oppression, and, perhaps, a period of peace to the long-troubled and war-ridden kingdom of Israel.

No wonder, then, that there were feasts of rejoicing and full-throated cries:

"Damascus has fallen! Long live King Jeroboam!"
"Damascus has fallen! Long life to the house of Jehu!"

All day and all night Samaria swarmed with people. The streets were
thronged with shouting men and women who had come from Geba and
Dothan, and even from Jezreel on the north, and from Schechem and
Shiloh and Bethel on the south, to help celebrate the great victory.

Sacrifices were brought at all the sanctuaries of Israel—in Bethel, in Dan, in Gilgal, in Beersheba.

Priests and people brought thank-offerings, and, together, sang praises to God:

"God is my light and my salvation,
Whom shall I fear?
God is the strength of my life,
Of whom shall I be afraid?"

Truly, God was on the side of Israel, or else the Syrians could not have been defeated. He was showing favor to the Northern Kingdom, and was pleased with Israel, for was not Judah, the Southern Kingdom, too, paying tribute to Jeroboam?

And so they recalled how Joash, the father of the great Jeroboam II, defeated Amaziah, king of Judah, took him captive, partially demolished the walls of Jerusalem, and looted the Temple in Jerusalem.

The older men of Samaria remembered the fine sarcasm with which Joash treated Amaziah's challenge to war, in his reply:

"The thistle that was in Lebanon sent to the cedar that was in Lebanon, saying, 'Give thy daughter to my son to wife,' and there passed by a wild beast that was in Lebanon, and trod down the thistle."

How young and old laughed at the repetition of this clever little story that compared Israel to a cedar in its strength and to a wild beast in its fighting power, and Judah to a poor, little thistle to be tramped upon!

Jeroboam II was indeed a son of his father. Joash humbled Judah, Israel's enemy on the south; Jeroboam humbled Syria, Israel's enemy on the north.

Not satisfied with the fall of Damascus, however, Jeroboam pushed right ahead and captured Lodebar and Karnaim, which he turned over to Assur-dan, king of Assyria.

The fact is that Jeroboam had to do this. It was his end of a bargain made with Assur-dan. It was agreed between the two that the Assyrians would keep their hands off during the war between Israel and Syria.

As a reward for Assur-dan's non-interference, Jeroboam undertook to capture these two cities and turn them over to the Syrians to become part of his empire.

Having fulfilled his agreement, Jeroboam continued his victorious march further north, and never stopped until he had laid low the pride of Hamath, the prosperous city on the river Orontes.

Jeroboam II, thus had the great distinction of restoring the boundaries of the Kingdom of Israel to the proportions of the empire of David and Solomon, "from the entrance of Hamath unto the sea of Arabah," which is the Dead Sea.

Wonderful was the reception prepared for the king and his victorious army on their return to Samaria. More people had come to the city to join in the welcoming demonstration than had pilgrimed to Jerusalem on the Passover, in the days before the division of the kingdom.

The northern walls were massed with people, and the gates were decorated with flowers. Priests and elders, dressed in spotless white and led by the high priest, Amaziah, himself, awaited Jeroboam and his generals just outside of the city and preceded them to the gates. Such an acclamation of joy as greeted the king upon his entrance through the gates had never been heard in Samaria.

Passing through a triumphal arch of stone and marble, the procession was met by hundreds of maidens and children, clothed in linen and gold, who led the way, singing and strewing flowers in the path of the heroes.

A turn in the street led to the market-place. Here had been built a great triumphal arch of ivory and gold, beyond which was an altar, specially erected for the occasion.

Passing through the arch, Amaziah and Jeroboam mounted the steps that led to the altar. All the rest remained below. When the priest and the king faced the people the singing and the shouting ceased. With due ceremony, and according to the rites, the king brought a thanks-offering to God for his victories and his safe return. When Amaziah placed the sacrifice upon the altar a deep hush fell over the great assembly.

Slowly the smoke of the sacrifice rose to heaven, and the multitude of people, like one man, fell on their knees and worshiped.

Jeroboam was deeply moved. Solemnly he raised his right hand, and, from the depths of his grateful heart, he said:

"Peace to the house of Israel!"

Like the rumble of a mighty wave rolling toward the shore came the response from the sea of worshiping people:

"To the house of Israel, peace!"

For one whole week after Jeroboam's triumphant entry into the capital, Samaria was a place of feasting and rejoicing. When, by command of the king, the celebration came to an end and the people began to return to their homes, each one, on leaving the city's gates, repeated to himself the now answered prayer of over a century:

"Peace to the house of Israel!
To the house of Israel, peace!"