When the kings of Judah apostatized, while the individuals were punished, the race was spared.  God still remembered his covenant with David; and, amid all the sin and desolation of Judah, the line of hereditary descent was unbroken.  The root remained, and some scion worthy of the stock sprang from it.

When Athaliah was ingrafted on the stock of royal Judah, she so debased it, that it seemed needful to purify it by cutting off all the branches to the very root.  Yet one was saved.  And, as if to display his own power and grace, God is at times pleased to select from the families the most apostate and unholy, the instrument of his work and the trophy of his grace.  So he made the daughter of Athaliah the nurse and the instructress of him who was to reform the kingdom of Judah.  Jehoshabeath, wife of the high-priest of the Lord, seems to have escaped the character and the doom of her family.  Her’s was a task most difficult.  She was called to oppose the depravity of her mother and to thwart her bloody policy, and yet not to appear as her accuser and as hastening the execution of the Divine vengeance.  Hard is it to the virtuous child to reprobate the character and course of the unholy parent, and yet preserve the reverence due to the relation.  Jehoshabeath appears before us in a light which leaves a most favourable impression.  The saviour of the infant heir of Judah, the son of her brother, she cherished, instructed and guarded him.  At the proper time the high-priest communicated the secret of the existence of the child to the princes of the land, and the son of Ahaziah was proclaimed king.  No assault was made upon Athaliah.  She rushed, like others of her family, upon her doom, as if she were infatuated.  The tumult of the people, the triumphant strains of sacred and martial music, the clashing of the shields of the soldiers as they bore their king aloft, brought the first tidings of the existence of the last of her race to Athaliah.

The daughter of Jezebel was not easily daunted.  Her courage rose in the hour of danger.  She had purchased the throne at a price too great readily to relinquish the possession of it.  She forced her way through the crowds who surrounded the Temple, and through the bands of soldiers who guarded the young king, until she confronted the child whose brow already bore the crown of Judah—­a heavy weight for the infant king.  In vain she rent her royal robes, and in vain she cried, “Treason!  Treason!” None adhered to her—­none followed her—­none perished with her.  She died by the sword,

        “And left a name to other times
    Link’d with no virtue, but a thousand crimes.”

The history of modern nations is not without examples of similar evils entailed upon those who, professing themselves the heads of a purified church and a reformed faith, choose (from motives of pride or policy) to seek an alliance with the adherents of a dark, cruel, and persecuting superstition.  Such a marriage precipitated the Stuarts from the throne of England, cost one king his life, and the family a kingdom; and the marriages of policy among princes, contravening the rules of God’s word, are often followed by most disastrous results, and hasten the evils they are contracted to prevent.