Perhaps you think your prayers are irksome to God, and therefore you are ready to faint and to give over praying?  Look at David; he begins to pray in a very heartless, hopeless way, “How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord, forever?” but see how he concludes; he breaks out in full vigor of soul, “I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with me.”  Ps. 13:6.  Above all, look to Jesus, who ever lives to pray for you; look for his spirit to help your infirmities.  Rom. 8:26.

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Original.

THE MOTHERS OF THE BIBLE.

HANNAH.

Imagination can picture no more animating scenes than those which were presented to the beholder at the seasons of the year when Judea poured forth her inhabitants in crowds to attend the solemn festivals appointed by Jehovah, and observed with punctilious exactness by the people.  Our present study leads us to contemplate one of these scenes.

From some remote town on the borders of Gentile territory the onward movement commences.  A few families having finished all their preparations, close the door of their simple home, and with glowing faces and hopeful steps begin their march.  They are soon joined by others, and again by new reinforcements.  Every town, as they pass, replenishes their ranks, until, as they approach Shiloh, they are increased to a mighty multitude.  It is a time of joy.  Songs and shouts rend the air, and unwonted gladness reigns.  All ages and conditions are here, and every variety of human form and face.  Let us draw near to one family group.  There is something more than ordinarily interesting in their appearance.  The father has a noble mien as he walks on, conversing gaily with his children, answering their eager questions, and pointing out the objects of deepest import to a Jew as they draw near the Tabernacle.  The children are light-hearted and gay, but the mother’s countenance does not please us.  We feel instinctively that she is not worthy of her husband; and especially is there an expression wholly incongruous with this hour of harmony and rejoicing.  While we look, she lingers behind her family, and speaks to one, who, with slow step and downcast looks, walks meekly on, and seems as if she pondered some deep grief.  Will she whisper a word of comfort in the ear of the sorrowful?  Ah, no.  A mocking smile is on her lips, which utter taunting words, and she glances maliciously round, winking to her neighbors to notice how she can humble the spirit of one who is less favored than herself.  “What would you give now to see a son of yours holding the father’s hand, or a daughter tripping gladly along by his side?  Where are your children, Hannah?  You surely could not have left them behind to miss all this pleasure?  Perhaps they have strayed among the company?  Would it not be well to summon them, that they may hear the father’s instructions, and join in the song which we shall all sing as we draw near to Shiloh?” Cruel words! and they do their work.  Like barbed arrows, they stick fast in the sore heart of this injured one.  Her head sinks, but she utters no reply.  She only draws nearer to her husband, and walks more closely in his footsteps.