on the gallows he had erected for Mordecai.

After this, the queen's power was supreme--every thing she asked was
granted. To please her he let his palace flow in the blood of five
hundred of his subjects, whom the Jews slew in self-defence. For her he
hung Haman's ten sons on the gallows where the father had suffered
before them. For her he made Mordecai prime minister, and lavished
boundless favors on the hitherto oppressed Hebrews. And right worthy was
she of all he did for her. Lovely in character as she was in person, her
sudden elevation did not make her vain, nor her power haughty. The same
gentle, pure, and noble creature when queen, as when living in the lowly
habitation of her cousin, generous, disinterested, and ready to die for
others, she is one of the loveliest characters furnished in the annals
of history.

It is a little singular that the words, God or Providence, are not
mentioned in the whole book of Esther. The writer seems studiously to
have avoided any reference to them, as if he did not wish to recognize
the interposition of Heaven in any of the events that transpired; while
his narrative is evidently designed to teach nothing else. The hand of
Providence is everywhere seen managing the whole scheme.

But the greatest acts of Providence awaken the least attention among
blind, mortal men. We are startled when some great occurrence meets us,
but overlook the vast effects which follow causes that attracted no eye
but God's. We see the flying timbers and flaming ruins of a
conflagration, and forget that a concealed spark did it all.

A noble mind and body are wrecked, and many weep; yet how few think that
the blast of moral ruin which stranded the life-bark, was once the quiet
breath of a mother's unholy influence leading the boy astray.

So the splendid career of a hero and patriot, like Mordecai, Moses, or
Washington, is less glorious than the simple decision made amid the
conflicting emotions of youthful aspiration to honor God and serve a
struggling country.

Jehovah illustrates this principle in all his administration. What to
Elijah on the solemn mount was the sweep of the hurricane, rending the
cliffs and tossing rocks like withered leaves in air--the thunder of the
earthquake's march--the blinding glow of the mantling flame--compared to
the "still small voice" that thrilled on his ear, so full of God! It is
not strange that there is to be a reckoning for "idle words" even, for
they have