usness of her present lot and of all
the injuries inflicted upon her.

In all the trials and sorrows through which she had passed, she had had
none to sustain or sympathize with her. Her child remained her only
earthly hope; and now she felt that another was to supplant him, and
thus disappoint all her expectations.

Her spirit rose in pride and wrath, and she infused her own bitter
feelings into the heart of her child. When Isaac was hailed as the heir,
while all rejoiced, Hagar and Ishmael mocked both the infant and the
aged parents.

Forbearance was no longer safe, and the decision of Sarah was wise,
though harsh--yet it was sad to Abraham. Ishmael was still his son--his
first-born. He had been ever dear to him; and when the angel of the Lord
had again confirmed the promise of a seed in whom all the nations of the
earth were to be blessed, he had almost seemed to overlook it as he
pleaded for the son of the bond-woman, "Oh that Ishmael might live
before thee!" while to Abraham was then confirmed the promise given
before the birth of her child to Hagar. There was sorrow and perplexity
in the heart of Abraham, but a message from heaven confirmed the decree
of Sarah.

The patriarch arose, after a night of conflict and prayer, while the
stars were still shining in the heavens, while the flocks lay in
stillness around the tents, and before those who had revelled and
rejoiced were awake, and called Hagar and her child. Can we not see
them in the gray of the morning? The father, the mother, the
child,--the patriarch, aged, but not bowed by age, still retaining the
vigour of manhood--the boy shy, yet half-defying--the mother! In such an
hour, all distinctions of rank and station would be forgotten, and all
the feelings of the woman be roused. Then and there Hagar might well
forget that she was Sarah's bondmaid, and only remember that she had
been Abraham's wife--that she was still Ishmael's mother.

In that hour must have risen the memory of her wrongs, of her saddened
youth, her darkened womanhood--of the selfishness with which he had
wedded her; of the heartlessness with which he had deserted her; of her
long years of trial and contempt. And her eye might speak reproach,
although the lips were closed and there was no voice. Should we not
rejoice to believe that the patriarch whispered some regret for the
past, and spoke of sorrow and repentance to her whose happiness he had
so selfishly sacrificed, even as he consumm