Esther 4:15,16

CRITICAL NOTES.]

Esther 4:15.] Esther resolves to go to the king unsummoned and begs a three days’ fast. “Though God and prayer are not here mentioned, it is yet obviously assumed that it was before God that the Jews were to humble themselves, to seek his help, and to induce him to grant it.”—Bertheau. The three days, night and day] are not to be reckoned as three times twenty-four hours, but to he understood of a fast which lasts till the third day after that on which it begins; for, according to Esther 4:1, Esther goes to the king on the third day. The last words, If I perish, I perish, &c.] are the expression not of despair, but of resignation, or perfect submission to the providence of God.

MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH. Esther 4:15

A WOMAN’S HEROISM

A woman, through the delicacy of her constitution and the timidity appropriate to her nature, at first shrinks from the performance of some difficult and dangerous enterprise. Yet when the voice of stern duty calls, when the demands of affection prompt, she shows herself the most heroic of beings. Much has been said, and not too much, about the heroism of woman. A great deal has been sung and written about her heroism. There are also unwritten records of womanly heroism. She has suffered very much in the darkness, in silence, and in obscurity. Not the one half has been told of her heroic glory. While we applaud the heroism of Esther and others whose good deeds have been celebrated in song, let us not forget those whose good deeds are unsung. Esther was no heartless beauty intent on her own elevation, and regardless of the welfare of others. If there is anything repellant in this world it is a beautiful woman that possesses either a heart of stone or a spirit steeped in selfishness. If there is anything attractive in this world it is a maiden the loveliness of whose outward form is but the beautiful casket of a still more lovely soul. How touching to watch the fair maiden meditating with patriotic heart upon the sorrows of her people, and the dangers that threaten her nationality. There is refreshing fragrance in the very sighs that come from her heaving breast. There is healing anodyne in the tears that fall like jewels from those eyes that rain sweet influences. There is vast encouragement in the prayers that ascend from her lips to heaven. The world is bright; we may welcome danger itself, and be the better prepared for calamity, as we see the Esthers of time nobly resolving to step into the places of danger, and undertake the works of deliverance. Esther’s heroism then was of the noblest type. She was truly heroic. Let us examine her claims to this character.

I. The greatness of Esther’s heroism is shown by her wisdom. Wisdom has been defined to be the use of the best means for attaining the best ends, and in this sense implies the union of high mental and moral excellence. Such a glorious union is manifested in the answer here returned by Esther to Mordecai, and also in the conduct of Esther when she comes to put her well-concerted schemes into operation. A woman’s heroism is a grand elevating power. She becomes almost supernatural by the sharpness of her vision, by the quickness of her judgment, by the depth of her wisdom, by the far-reaching nature of her schemes, and by her wondrous skill, and tact, and fertility in the devising of the best means for attaining her ends. What a thrilling history is the history of the expedients devised by heroic women! Talk we of the diplomacy of statesmen, let us talk of the better diplomacy of women devoted to the accomplishment of noble enterprises. Talk we of the skilful arrangements of mighty conquerors, let us talk rather of the arrangements of those women who conquer by the inspiration of heroic daring and heroic consecration. Talk we of the far-reaching and well-devised methods of scientific men. This we may do, and yet we must feel that great praise is due as we consider the well-devised methods of unscientific but devoted and lofty-souled women.

II. Esther’s wisdom is here shown by her recognition of the fact that Divine duties are superior to human laws. “I will go in unto the king, which is not according to the laws.” Law is a rule of action. It is the formulated expression of one who has a right to command obedience. Kings have a right to command obedience. Subjects however have their rights. And the first rights of a well-regulated and conscientious subject are entitled to respect, and may well dispute the so-called rights of kings; rights that are not based on principles of moral rectitude. There is a power more kingly than that of earthly kings. The Divine law is superior to the human law, and is the true rule of action. All human laws should be in harmony with Divine laws. The voice of conscience is supreme. The voice of earthly legislators is subordinate. “We ought to obey God rather than man.” The voice, however, must be the clear, ringing, commanding voice of an enlightened conscience. Cautions must be laid down for fear the rule obtains—so many men so many consciences. The voice of caprice, of prejudice, or of mere self-will may be taken for the voice of conscience. The supposed voice of conscience may tell us to tithe the mint, the anise, and the cummin only; while the true voice commands the observance also of the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith. The voice of conscience may say, Follow the inner light. Sit in silence and wait for the motions of the Holy Spirit. The true voice proclaims in high places, “To the law and to the testimony: if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them?” If then the voice of conscience and the voice of human institutions oppose one another, we must listen so as to catch the deciding voice of the Divine words. If we cannot clearly discern the message of that voice, we must, like Esther, give ourselves to fasting and to prayer, and God will cause the voice of his own word to ring out more distinctly. Esther’s duty in this case was clear, and she showed herself equal to the occasion. There are many cases in life when our duty is clear. Difficulties must not be created as an excuse for cowardice.

III. Esther’s heroism and wisdom are here shown by her recognition of the truth that Divine duties must be undertaken in a spirit of self-abnegation. No great work can be successfully accomplished without self-denial. The way to riches, to fame, or to power is in some aspects the way of self-denial. If a man is to be a successful orator he must have the power of self-forgetfulness in the presence of his hearers. This self-forgetfulness is to be obtained by self-denial, by thorough absorption in the subject, and by earnest desire to do good. What is true then of Divine duties is true of what may be called human duties. The one lies on the same plane with the other in so far. Self-denial in the pathway of human duty does not always meet with its appropriate reward. Self-denial in the pathway of Divine duty is never without its harvest. Esther’s self-denial was rewarded. It is a very cheap way of getting glory to say “If I perish, I perish” when there is not the slightest chance of perishing. Some people are remarkably heroic when there is no apparent danger. There was danger in Esther’s case. There is a sad tone in the declaration “If I perish, I perish,” and the sadness is not without its warrant. These words however are not the words of despair. They are the words of one resigned to the Divine will, of one willing to suffer, and yet the words of one who still has hope in Divine protection. If Esther had lived in our day a certain class of companions would have told her not to mind old Mordecai, and let the Jews take their chance. She heeded not such seductive voices. Esther doubtless valued her life; she was not indifferent to the flattering nature of her prospects. She would not wish to be typified by Moses who was taken up to the Mount of Vision in order to see the promised land, and then die without entering into possession. Still she may also have felt that better than the treasure of a Persian palace is the treasure of a good conscience; better than the life of the body is the life of the soul; better than the glory of a royal position is the glory of self-denial for the good of others. In these words we may find, by no great stretch of imagination, a foreshadowing of that spirit displayed by Christ Jesus, by his apostles, by the martyrs, and by the noble workers of all time. The spirit of him who “pleased not himself,” who had a perfect self-surrender, and a complete submission to the Divine will, who bare our sicknesses, and carried our sorrows, finds embodiment and utterance in the words, “If I perish, I perish.” The spirit of Esther in this passage indicates the spirit of that noble apostle who counted not his life dear unto him that he might finish his course with joy and the ministry which he had received from the Lord Jesus. It was the spirit of those who rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer such things for his name’s sake. It is the spirit of all in every age of the world who are willing to suffer for the good of humanity. Are we prepared at the call of duty and in obedience to the voice of conscience to suffer?

IV. Esther’s wisdom is shown in her recognition of the truth that Divine duties may be undertaken in dependence upon human co-operation. We may be workers together with God. We may be workers together with one another for the promotion of Divine plans. Those who have to undertake a special Divine mission may be helped by the sympathies and the prayers of others who are not so directly and specially appointed. The minister by his people. The missionary by those who stay at home. Esther by all the praying Jews in Shushan. Cooperation is good in commercial matters. Co-operation is also good in Divine commerce. Let us take the word that speaks of material affairs, that summons up the laws of political economy, and so put its principle to use in things spiritual, that it may become lifted into higher spheres, and clothed with a grander significance. Some people have a one-sided idea of co-operation, especially when any great work is to be done, and when any great sacrifice is to be made. They forget that Co. means two or more. Esther had the true idea of co-operation. She not only asks Mordecai and all the Jews present in Shushan to fast, but she says, “I also and my maidens will fast likewise.” There were two sides to this co-operation. Esther and her maids would join with all the Jews in Shushan, in order to bring about a successful result. The Church of to-day needs more co-operation. The minister, for instance, is to go on a difficult mission; he is to fast, and to pray, and to visit, and to be self-denying. All right if it can be secured. Something more is required. True co-operation is needed. The rich member must say, I also will fast, and pray, and give, and work likewise.

V. Esther’s wisdom is shown in the recognition of the truth that Divine duties can only be successfully undertaken by Divine help. It is vain to make an objection to the Book of Esther on the ground that there is not in it the religious spirit. There can be no point in fasting if it is not connected with religion. This request for a general fast, and this determination on her own part to fast, must have meant an appeal to God for help. Fasting and prayer were very generally joined in the Old Testament writings. In the Book of Joel it is said, “Sanctify ye a fast, call a solemn assembly; gather the elders, and all the inhabitants of the land into the house of the Lord your God, and cry unto the Lord!” Mere abstinence from food can be of little service. We may reasonably picture Mordecai carrying out Esther’s request, and calling the Jews together to a solemn assembly, and proclaiming a general fast, and national humiliation before God, and earnest prayer to God for success to Esther in her mission. In these modern days we do not believe in fasting. This may be a reaction. It may be a consequence of our objection to those who carry the principle of torturing the body to an extreme. It may, however, be a growth of the luxury of the present times. There is not much disposition now-a-days to keep the body under and bring it into subjection. We have need, however, of deep humiliation before God. The disasters in the nation, the decline of spiritual life in the Church, call for humiliation. There can be no success without Divine help. We must call mightily unto God. Let us give him no rest until he make Jerusalem a praise in the earth. Here learn the ennobling, transforming, and creating power of love. Esther’s love to her people was strong. This love was a growth from the love she had to God. Let there be love to God, and this will increase all lower loves. True love seeks the enlargement of opportunities; and becomes creative in its very intensity. The loyal and patriotic subject does not strive to pare down the demands of his sovereign. The loving child does not endeavour to strip the father’s word of all binding force by skilful manipulations. And the true heart does not inquire, How can I do the very least for my God?—but thinks that the very greatest it can either do or offer is far too little. Oh for a love which, though it has only two mites to give, yet casts them into the treasury of him unto whom belongeth both the gold, the silver, and the copper! Oh for a love which takes the alabaster box of ointment—very precious,—and breaks it over the Saviour’s head in loving consecration to his predestined offering! Oh for a love which, though it has only tears to give, yet pours them in plentiful measure on the Saviour’s feet, and with the rich tresses of a head, full of grateful thoughts, wipes the tear-bedewed feet of Immanuel!

SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS ON Esther 4:15

There is something well worthy of remark in the concluding words of Esther: “So will I go in unto the king, which is not according to law; and if I perish, I perish.” This is not the resolution of a fatalist, who acts upon the principle, that what is destined to be must be, and that therefore it is useless either to attempt to ward off evils, or to complain when they have been inflicted. Neither is it the resolution of a person wrought up to a state of absolute desperation, and acting under the impulse of the feeling—“matters cannot be worse, and to have done the utmost may bring relief, while it cannot possibly aggravate the evil.” Neither is it the resolution of a person prostrated under difficulties, and yet, with a vague hope of deliverance, saying, “I will make one effort more, and if that fail, and all is lost, I can but die.” Esther’s purpose was framed in a spirit altogether different from that of any of those persons, although her language appears to be almost the same as they would have used. And there is an actual case recorded in the Scriptures which illustrates the difference. When Samaria was besieged by the Syrians, and the people were dying of famine within the walls, four leprous men, that had their dwelling without the wall, said to one another: “If we enter into the city, famine is in the city, and we shall die there; and if we sit still here, we die also. Now, therefore, come and let us fall unto the host of the Syrians; if they save us alive, we shall live: and if they kill us, we shall but die.” Here we have men reduced to a state of utter recklessness by suffering, from which, if they did not obtain immediate relief, they must inevitably perish in one way or other, and so they adopted the only course which presented the possibility of relief. But in the case of Esther, we have neither fatalism, nor desperation, nor the listlessness of waning hope, which says, “It matters not what I do.” Hers is the heroism of true piety, which, in Providence shut up to one course, and that full of danger, counts the cost, seeks help of God, and calmly braves the danger, saying: “He will deliver me if he hath pleasure in me; if not, I perish in the path of duty.” Her noble resolution entitles her to a place among the most eminent of those who wrought out deliverances for Israel.
And now, in conclusion, have not her words peculiar significance when applied to the case of those who, under the burden of their sin, are afraid to come to Christ lest he reject them? Some such we have known. There may be some of them here. Do you feel that you are lost? Do you acknowledge that Christ might justly throw you off, even were you to cast yourself upon his mercy? And are you now almost without hope? Still we say, his invitations are addressed to sinners, and none need them more than you. You are lost without him: then make the great effort to lay hold of him. Job said: “Though he slay me I will trust in him.” You may say: “If I perish I perish, but it shall be at the foot of the cross, looking to Jesus.” And I can tell you, my friends, that none ever perished there, putting all their trust in the Lamb of God. Amen.—Davidson.

Gospel-consecration does not go farther than this. Everything dear and valued was left behind in order that she might serve God. “All things were counted but loss” that she might maintain “a conscience void of offence towards God and towards men.” Ah! how this believer, in olden times, when as yet the Saviour was only had in promise, puts to shame many in these latter days who are in possession of the finished salvation! Even the pleasures of sense, and the wealth and rewards of the world, keep them in a state of indecision and vacillation, if not of absolute indifference, to the call and claims of the gospel. They will only go as far with God and his people as it may serve their own selfish ends, and promote their own selfish interests. Self-denial and self-surrender are not words to be found in their vocabulary. But let there be no mistake here. The spirit displayed by Esther is the spirit demanded by the Saviour, and without which we cannot be his disciples. You may not be called upon actually to make the sacrifice, but you cannot dispense with the spirit of readiness to do it. Yea, it must have been already done in spirit, as though in preparation for its actual execution. For the love of Christ, the glory of his name, and allegiance to his crown, we must have laid the world at his feet, and consecrated our life to his service. What were the words which he addressed to the multitudes who went after him? Are they not “hard sayings” when spoken in the midst of his people still? “If any man come to me and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple; and whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple.”
It may be that you may fall at the post of duty. You have no security against this contingency. The graves of many faithful servants of Christ, at home and abroad, bear testimony to that. But are not the men, who prefer rather to perish at the post of duty than have life prolonged, with a sense of desertion, counted worthy of double honour? The soldier who has kept a perilous position in the field of battle, and has chosen rather to fall than flee; the captain who has gone down with his ship in his anxiety and efforts to save others; and the Christian who has regard to the future rather than to the present, can best afford to sink the life that now is in the life which is to come. The apostles, martyrs, and confessors, who have fallen at the post of duty, shall have no cause to regret their fidelity in heaven. They shall, in consequence, have a more richly jewelled crown, and shine forth in the kingdom with a brighter, fuller glory. And oh! if there should yet come upon the Church dark and cloudy days, when the spirit of persecution and hostility to the people of God, which is not dead but only slumbering, shall again be awakened to try the faith of men and prove their steadfastness, whether in our own times or the times of our children, or children’s children, the loss and shame will be theirs who forsake the standard of the Cross, but the honour and recompense be in store for them who are “faithful unto death”—loss and shame to those who will only be able to say on that day “we feared and fled,” but honour and recompense to such as will be able to declare “we loved Thee, Lord, more than life; we fought and fell.” So, in the spirit of Esther, let us go forward in the path of duty and religion through difficulty, danger, and the fear of death. God will shield us if it is for the good of his Church and his own glory, and “if we perish, we perish.”
There is one other reference of the words which, though obvious, we would not overlook. There are some who deem themselves too sinful to be saved; some whose cup of iniquity is indeed well-nigh full, and who, when aroused to a sense of it, are overwhelmed with terror. What must they do? Whither must they betake themselves? We are not surprised though they should try reformation, for where there is true repentance there will always be renunciation of sin. But let the sinner be in the very agonies of dying, pressed down under the tremendous load of high-handed transgression, and having no time left for reformation of life, what must he do? whither betake himself? We have to announce to him the great truth that “the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, cleanseth us from all sin,” and that “him that cometh unto God through him shall in no wise be cast out.” And with these Scriptures syllabled in his ears and lodged in his heart, we have no difficulty in telling him what he must do, and whither he must betake himself. He must go in unto the King—not one whose wrath he has to dread, but in whose redeeming love he has to confide; not waiting till he is better, but urged by the desperateness of his case to instant action, and throw himself in all his conscious helplessness on his mercy. O no! There is no hope, no help, no remedy, no refuge for you, but this. Look where you will, try what experiment you may, everything else will be in vain. Your darkness and despair will only be deepened apart from this. But go in unto the King, and even though your darkness be as midnight, there shall gleam forth a star of hope; and though your despair be even as death, there shall be awakened in you the pulsations of a new life. You must perish if you do not. You can but perish if you do. So let your resolve be that of Esther, and Jesus will bid you a cordial and happy welcome. “I will go in unto the king, and if I perish, I perish.”—McEwan.

Go gather together all the Jews.—Great is the power of joint prayer; it stirs heaven and works wonders. Oh, when a Church full of good people shall set sides and shoulders to work, when they shall rouse up themselves and wrestle with God, when the pillars of incense shall come up into his presence, and their voices be heard as the voices of many waters, and as the voice of a great thunder (Revelation 14:2), what may such thundering legions have at God’s hands! Have it they will: Cœlum tundimus, preces fundimus, misericordiam extorquemus, said those primitive prayer-makers (Revelation 9:13); the prayers of the saints from the four corners of the earth sound, and do great things in the world; they make it ring. It was the speech of a learned man, If there but one sigh come from a gracious heart (how much more, then, a volley of sighs from many good hearts together!) it filleth the ears of God, so that God heareth nothing else.

I also and my maids will fast.—She herself would be at the head of them, as Queen Elizabeth also told her soldiers at Tilbury camp for their comfort; and a Cæsar used say to his soldiers, Go we, and not Go ye—non ite, sed eamus; and as Joshua said, I and my house will serve Jehovah (Joshua 24:15). Esther’s maids must fast—must fast and pray—or they are no maids for her.—Trapp.

“Every subject’s duty is the king’s; but every subject’s soul is his own.”—Shakespeare.

Heroical thoughts do well befit great actions. Life can never be better adventured than when it shall be gain to lose it. There can be no law against the humble deprecation of evils: where the necessity of God’s Church calls to us, no danger should withhold us from honest means of relief. Deep humiliation must make way for the success of great enterprises: We are most capable of mercy when we are thoroughly empty. A short hunger doth but whet the appetite; but so long an abstinence meets death half way, to prevent it. Well may they enjoin sharp penances unto others who practise it upon themselves. It was the face of Esther that must hope to win Ahasuerus; yet that shall be macerated with fasting that she may prevail. A careful heart would have pampered the flesh that it might allure those wanton eyes; she pines it that she may please. God, and not she, must work the heart of the king. Faith teaches her rather to trust her devotions than her beauty.—Bishop Hall.

A well-known author once wrote a very pretty essay on the power of education to beautify. That it absolutely chiselled the features; that he had seen many a clumsy nose and thick pair of lips so modified by that awakening and active sentiment as to be unrecognizable. And he put it on that ground that we so often see people, homely and unattractive in youth, bloom in middle life into a softened Indian summer of good looks and mellow tones. Secular education may do a great deal; but sacred education will do vastly more. The true beautifying power for woman is the gospel, is that principle of benevolence which it ever infuses. How nobly beautiful, as well as grandly heroic, must Esther have now appeared as she resolves to save her people at the expense of her own life if need be.
It is with him as with Esther in her undertaking for the Jews. If she should go, and the king not hold forth the golden sceptre to her, she was but a dead woman; but then if she did not go there was no other way to save her and her nation from ruin, and therefore she resolves, “I will go in unto the king, and if I perish I perish:” so here, if I go to Christ (thinks the trembling sinner), and take sanctuary in him, it may be justice may pursue me thither. Oh! but if I go not, then there is nothing for me but certain destruction; thereupon he resolves, I will go to Christ, I will lay hold on him, and if I perish I will perish there; if wrath seize on me, it shall find me in the arms of Christ; if I die, I will die at his feet. When Joab had fled for refuge to the tabernacle, and caught hold of the horns of the altar, Benaiah, sent to execute him, bids him leave his sanctuary: “Thus says the king, come forth.” “Nay,” says Joab, “but I will die here;” if there be no mercy for me, no remedy but I must die, I will die here. Says also the believing soul, but if I must die, I will die here; if justice smite me it shall smite me with Christ in my arms; though he kill me, yet will I rely on him; here will I live or here will I die; I will not quit my hold, though I die for it.—Clarkson.

The bloody plot being thus laid by Haman, the king’s minion, behold the footsteps of God’s favourable signal, and eminent presence for his people and with his people in their deadly dangers, and that in raising up in them a very great spirit of faith, prayer, and mourning, and by raising an undaunted courage and resolution in Esther: “And so I will go in unto the king, and if I perish, I perish” (Esther 4:16). This she speaks not rashly or desperately, as prodigal of her life, but as one willing to sacrifice the same for the honour of God, his cause and people, saying, as that martyr, “Can I die but once for Christ?” Esther had rather die than shrink from her duty. She thought it better to do worthily and perish for a kingdom, than unworthily and perish with a kingdom. Here was a mighty preference of God in raising Esther’s heroical courage and resolution above all those visible dangers that did attend her attempt of going in to the king against the known law of the land.—Brooks.

Behold us willing to suffer in this life the worst it may please thee to bring upon us; here lay thy rod upon us; consume us here, cut us to pieces here, only spare us in eternity!—St. Augustine.

The heroic response of Esther might well send her foster-father home content. It was the full reward of all his care in years gone by to have a daughter worthy of Abigail, and Ruth, and Deborah, and Hannah. She would not act on impulse, but came to a resolution which was not to be put in force for three days. It is an advantage to any one, more to a woman than to a man, to move forward rapidly on the wave of a warm impulse; but she relinquished that advantage, and looked steadily at the worst issue. “If I perish, I perish.” Her resolution was humble and prayerful. Let those who will, despise prayer-meetings and special requests; remembering the young men of Babylon, and the company in the upper room before Pentecost, believers can afford to sit easy under the world’s scorn. “Fast ye for me: I also and my maids will fast likewise.”
That was the secret of Esther’s heroism. When the third day came she put on her royal apparel, and did not appear unto men to fast; but meanwhile there was “another King” to whom she could go without delay, with whom she could remain longer, and to whom she could pour out all her heart. The mere force of contrast with the exclusive monarch of Persia brings up comforting and tender thoughts of the Lord Jesus, who does not debar from his presence the weary and heavy-laden, but bids them come; who has chosen the contrite heart as his earthly dwelling-place; who proclaims it as the glory of his home above that there he shall wipe away all tears.
A seraglio is a sad enough place, with its year-long monotony, its petty jealousies, its gilded restraints; but when, as the curtain now falls, we see Esther, with firm-set lips, going to arrange for a long prayer-meeting with her maidens, we feel that this queen has brought a good thing into a sad place. The religion of the heart is never monotonous. Mordecai also moves homeward with a new light in his strong face, to gather such of his brethren as are within the capital, that they may strengthen one another in seeking “the God of Israel, the Saviour who hideth himself.” For three days there is silence. After, we shall see Esther and Mordecai again in their place, acting with plenty of decision and vigour; but let us not forget this “pause more full than speech,” this “hush more sweet than song.”—A. M. Symington, B.A.

Woman’s self-devotion.—Courage is a noble feminine grace—courage and self-devotion. We are so accustomed to associate courage with physical strength that we do not often think of it as preeminently a feminine grace when the feminine nature has been fully unfolded and trained, but it is. The reckless rapture of self-forgetfulness, that which dominates and inspires persons and nations, that which is sovereign over obstacle and difficulty and peril and resistance, it has belonged to woman’s heart from the beginning. In the early Pagan time, in the Christian development, in missions and in martyrdoms, it has been shown; in the mediæval age as well as in our own time; in Harriet Newel and Florence Nightingale; in Ann Haseltine as truly and as vividly as in any Hebrew Hadassa or in any French Joan of Arc. You remember the Prussian women after the battle of Jena, when Prussia seemed trampled into the bloody mire under the cannon of Napoleon and the feet of the horses and men in his victorious armies, Prussian women, never losing their courage, flung their ornaments of gold and jewellery into the treasury of the State, taking back the simple cross of Berlin iron which is now the precious heirloom in so many Prussian families, bearing the inscription, “I have gold for iron.” That is the glory of womanhood; that passion, and self-forgetfulness, that supreme self-devotion, with which she flings herself into the championship of a cause that is dear and sacred and trampled under foot. It is her crown of renown, it is her staff of power.—Dr. Storrs.

“Fast ye for me, and neither eat nor drink for three days.”—They were not called with Esther to go in unto the king. A far less dangerous service was required from them. But, what they can do, and are called to do, they must do as conscientiously as Esther. There are many great works which are beyond our strength, or out of the line of our calling; and yet we may and ought to take a part in them, by strengthening the hands of those who are called to undertake them. Paul had many helpers in his work of the gospel, even among those who could not, or to whom it would not, have been allowed to speak in the Church. We all ought to be fellow-helpers to the truth. When many go abroad to spread the gospel amongst heathens, we find it our duty to continue in the land of our nativity; but, without removing from it, we may promote the work in which they are employed, by our contributions, or at least by our prayers.

There are some who beg the prayers of others, and yet pray little for themselves. Esther, who requested the Jews to fast for her, told them that she also would fast, and would abstain as strictly from food as she desired them to do. She had been accustomed to a well-furnished table; but she was not thereby disqualified from afflicting her soul by fasting when she saw it to be her duty. She, no doubt, observed the annual fasts prescribed to the Jews, and she determined to observe this extraordinary fast which she her elf prescribed. She hoped to obtain mercy from the Lord, that she might escape death by the laws of Persia, and might be the instrument of the salvation of her people. But, if she miscarried, her fasting and prayer would be proper acts of preparation for her latter end.
“I and my maids will fast.”—Some, it is probable, of Esther’s maids were heathens when they came into her service. Yet, we find her promising that they would fast. She can answer for them, as Joshua for his household, that they would serve the Lord. If mistresses were as zealous as queen Esther for the honour of God, and the conversion of sinners, they would bestow pains upon the instruction and religious improvement of their female servants. If women may gain to Christ their own husbands by their good conversation, may they not also gain the souls of their servants? and if they are gained to Christ, they are gained to themselves also. Esther expected much benefit from the devotional exercises of her maidens. Paul expected much from the prayers of his converts. Those whom we convert from the error of their ways will be our joy and helpers upon earth: they will be our joy and crown of rejoicing in the day of Christ.

“I and my maids will fast.”—Esther could not join in the public prayers of the Jews, when they met together out of many families, to strive together in their prayers to God. But she will fast at home, not only by herself, but with her maidens. There are public fasts in which all are expected to join. There ought likewise to be secret and family fasts observed by us, according to the calls of providence, and the situation of our affairs, or the condition of our souls.

“And then will I go in unto the king, which is not according to the law.”—She would not go in unto the king till she had made her supplication to the Lord, and till the Jews had given her the assistance of their prayers. She was sensible, that though “all men will intreat the ruler’s favour, every man’s judgment comes from the Lord;” and that the hearts of kings are turned by him according to his pleasure. What, therefore, she desires in the first place is, that she may obtain comfortable assurance of the Divine favour. If the Lord be on her side, she is safe. If the Lord favour her suit, she need not fear the coldness of Ahasuerus, or the mortal enmity of Haman. “The floods may rage. They may lift up their voices and make a mighty noise: but the Lord on high is mightier than the waves of the sea, or the voice of their roaring.”

But when the fast is over, she will go in unto the king. She will not think that her duty is done when she has prayed and fasted. She will seek, by the use of proper means, to obtain that blessing which she has been asking. The insincerity of our prayers is too often discovered by our sloth and cowardice. We ask blessings from God, and, as if he were bound to confer them, not according to his own will, but according to ours; we take no care to use those means which he hath appointed for obtaining them, or we do not use them with requisite diligence. Esther will go in unto the king, although she could not go in without violating the laws and risking her life.—Lawson.

“He that believeth doth not make haste;” but neither doth he linger like the slothful. Fasting and prayer are preparatives, not substitutes, for active duties. “The Lord said unto Moses, Wherefore criest thou unto me? speak unto the children of Israel that they go forward.” Good resolutions, when difficulties and dangers must be broken through, should be speedily performed; and we should not damp them by prolonging religious exercises. Having spent the time allotted to fasting, Esther rose from the ground, laid aside her sackcloth, and put on her royal apparel. The apocryphal additions to this book represent her as appealing to God, that she always abhorred these signs of her high estate. That her adorning was in the hidden man of the heart, that she did not glory in her crown and embroidered garments, and would have been willing to have thrown them away for the sake of conscience and the good of her people, is all true. But why should she have abhorred them in themselves? There was nothing sinful or necessarily contaminating in their touch; they were given her of God; they were the badge of the rank to which she had been raised; and had she appeared without them, or worn them in an awkward, slovenly manner, she would have dishonoured her husband, and defeated her laudable enterprise. Esther did not adorn herself to attract the regards of Ahasuerus, but because she felt it incumbent on her to appear in a manner becoming her station. There is no sin in persons dressing according to their rank. The king’s daughter may be all glorious within, though her garments are of wrought gold; and the plainest and coarsest garb may conceal a proud and haughty spirit.—Lawson.

Our flesh is always timid when it has to encounter a hazard. My Christ, in his Divine majesty, stands at the entrance into the faith, and sounds the free invitation to each and all, ever frequent, ever dear, ever happy. One should succour his neighbour in peril and need, and especially the brethren in the faith even at the peril of one’s own life. We are born for good not to ourselves, but to others, and thus God oftentimes shows us that through us he aids our own country and the community. Faith is the victory that overcomes the world. We may use ordinary prayer for important blessings. Life can never be spent better than when it is the aim to lose it.—Starke.

A woman is sometimes wound up to firm and determined action when the lives of her kindred are at stake, which surpasses the marvels of heroic story, and sends a wild pulsation of startled admiration to vibrate through all hearts to the end of time. Who can read of Deborah delivering Israel from ruin without rapture? or Margaret Roper breaking through a London crowd to kiss her father, Sir Thomas More, about to be beheaded? or Joan of Arc—that light of ancient France—who, a mere girl, delivered her country from invaders, and restored the crown to her sovereign at the high altar of Rheims? or

“Her, who knew that love can vanquish death—

Who, kneeling with one arm about the king,

Drew forth the poison with her balmy breath,

Sweet as new buds in spring”?—B. Kent.

ILLUSTRATIONS TO CHAPTER 4

Esther 4:16. Not necessary to live. Sibbes says: “It is necessary we should be just; it is not necessary we should live.” This saying is enforced and illustrated by one of the gems of Dr. Samuel Johnson preserved by Boswell. A man who was engaged in a disreputable business was defending himself against the sarcasms of Dr. Samuel Johnson, and pleaded, “he must live.” “Not at all, sir; there is no necessity for your living,” was the memorable reprimand by way of response. Esther felt that duty must be done. It was not necessary for her to live, but it was necessary that an effort should be made to thwart a cruel and vindictive edict.

Esther 4:16. A true hero. The city of Marseilles in France was once afflicted with the plague. So terrible was it that it caused parents to desert children, and children to forget the obligations to their own parents. The city became as a desert, and funerals were constantly passing through its streets. Everybody was sad, for nobody could stop the ravages of the plague. The physicians could do nothing, and as they met one day to talk over the matter and see if something could not be done to prevent this great destruction of life, it was decided that nothing could be effected without opening a corpse in order to find the mysterious character of the disease. All agreed upon the plan, but who would be the victim, it being certain that he should die soon after? There was a dead pause. Suddenly one of the most celebrated physicians, a man in the prime of life, arose from his seat and said: “Be it so, I devote myself to the safety of my country. Before this numerous assembly I swear, in the name of humanity and religion, that to-morrow at the break of day I will dissect a corpse, and write down as I proceed what I observe.” He immediately left the room, and as he was rich, made a will, and spent that evening in religious exercises. During the night a man died in his house of the plague, and at daybreak the following morning, the physician, whose name was Greyon, entered the room, and critically made the examination. He then left the room, threw the papers into a vase of vinegar, so that they might not convey the disease to another, and retired to a convenient place, where he died in twelve hours.

Esther 4:16. Devotion of Arminius to his work. As James Arminius passed along one of the poorer districts of the city, he heard a certain lowly dwelling resound with the voice of wailing. Immediately on perceiving that the whole of that household had been seized with the plague, and were in torment arising from the most burning thirst, he not only gave money to the neighbours, who were standing by, with which to purchase a draught, but further, when not one of them dared to enter that infected abode of poverty, he himself, heedless of every danger to which by this step he exposed himself and those dear to him, intrepidly walked in, and imparted refreshment, at once for the body and the soul, to every single member of this afflicted family.—Brandt’s Life of Arminius.

The Findern flower. Sir Edmund Burke was writing a book, and he went to the North, to inquire particulars of a certain family named Findern. But he could find no account of them remaining—no memorial, no hall in ruins. He asked a working man if he could tell him anything about the family, and he said he could show him the Findern flower—a small blue flower, said to have been imported into England by Sir Joshua Findern on his return from the Crusades. It springs up, and never dies. It grows nowhere else in England, but here it cannot be eradicated. Benevolence is a beautiful flower; like the Findern flower it need never die; unlike the Findern flower it can flourish anywhere. It may grow in palace or in cottage, in the hot-house or in the cold night of an Arctic winter. This flower flourished in the nature of Esther, and how beautiful it looked, what sweet fragrance it imparted, what glorious colours it unfolded!

Esther 4:16. Everything to die for. A correspondent relates this suggestive incident:—“We recently called on a lady of culture and refinement, who, having just taken possession of a new house with elegant surroundings, had suddenly been called to face the approach of a fearful disease that seemed beyond human power to avert. With a loving husband and winsome daughter, with a home filled with evidences of wealth and taste, encircled by warm, true-hearted friends, with everything earthly to make life glad and joyous, we remarked: ‘You have everything to live for. Does it not depress you to think that all this must be given up if this disease is not stayed?’ The reply, simple, earnest, truthful, ‘Why, I have everything to die for,’ indicated the rich, abiding wealth of a soul whose trust is stayed on God, and showed that she was lifted up into a life of serenity and peace that could never be shaken by storms and tempests. Can any faith or any religion, save that of the Christian, enable one thus to triumph over pain, thus to look upon death, thus to contemplate separation from the dear ones linked by the holiest of earthly ties! All things to die for! Reunion with friends who long since left us; pain and suffering only memories of a former past; complete and eternal freedom from sin; complicity with unseen power of evil at an end; the presence of the pure and the holy; communion with him who shall wipe all tears from our eyes; at home and at rest for ever with the Lord—was not the remark of our friend most emphatically true? On the grandeur and the beauty of that faith which sees through the rifted clouds the glory beyond, which can say amid deepest darkness, ‘The morning cometh;’ that faith which with ‘things seen and temporal,’ most beautiful and attractive, can raise up into a full appreciation of ‘the things that are unseen and eternal;’ that faith which bridges over the dark river, enabling the believer to tread with firm footstep and alone the way that leads to the unknown land; that faith which will lead one encircled by richest earthly gifts, to say: “I have everything to die for!’ ”

Esther had everything to live for according to human estimates, yet she was willing to die.

Esther 4:16. A young Illinois hero. An American paper chronicles a bit of heroism by a Peoria county boy which deserves recognition. A coal shaft is being sunk just north of Hollis, Illinois, and the other day a workman, by the name of Harland, lighted a slow match leading to the blast, and then signalled to be drawn up. The depth of the shaft was seventy feet. When he had been raided fourteen feet he struck the bottom of a board partition, and was thrown back to the bottom. Thomas Crandall, a step-son of Harland, was a witness to the accident, and promptly slid down the rope, seventy feet, and tore the match from the fuze in time to prevent an explosion. The act was a brave one, scarcely to be paralleled. The boy’s hands were terribly lacerated by the friction of the rope. The step-father was rescued with a broken rib and other severe bruises. The heroic act of this brave boy can be not only “paralleled,” but surpassed. Esther exposed herself to equal risk to save a whole people to whom she was bound by the ties of nationality.

Esther 4:16. The Grace Darling of Berstead. The sea-coast Sussex village of Berstead, adjacent to Bognor, is justly proud of Mrs. Wheatland, a brave and strong middle-aged matron, the mother of a large family, who has saved thirteen lives in the past twenty years, by swimming out to the rescue of drowning bathers. So here are no less than thirteen lives which our good, strong Mary Wheatland has saved. How many more there may have been “goodness knows;” for she looks on life-saving as part of her regular business—and she found it hard to tax her memory even with these examples. Thus her splendid conscience is hung with immortal but immaterial medals. She has never sought any from the Humane Society, nor does she seem to think she has done anything meritorious or worthy of human distinction. How many lives Esther has saved we cannot tell; she saved them at the risk of her own—“If I perish I perish.” Surely her splendid conscience was hung with immortal but immaterial medals. Surely the Jews are right in perpetuating the glory of her name.