shame and crime, and the avenging future cast its shadow over her soul?
Did the stern decree of the prophet ring in her ears, and late remorse
drive her to the dark cruelties of her bloody idolatry, in the idle hope
of expiation? Such an old age could not have been happy. She was left to
fill up the measure of her iniquity, while memory told of past sins, and
conscience whispered of the coming retribution, and the avenging justice
of heaven hung like a dark cloud over her guilty house. Past the season
of pleasure, deprived of the power she had so abused, without the honour
and sacred reverence due to virtuous age, she may have had a foretaste
of her future retribution, though surrounded by all the splendour of
royalty, with trembling and abject slaves ministering to all her wants.

One son after another quietly took possession of the throne of Israel,
and Jezebel may have derided the prophecy of Elijah; yet the sentence,
long delayed, was fully executed. The hour of foretold vengeance
arrived. In one day, the King of Israel was dethroned and murdered, and
the race of Ahab was swept from the face of the earth. The last act of
her life was worthy of Jezebel herself,--of the Queen of Israel in the
days of her prime. She heard of the death of Jehoram and of the
insurrection of Jehu. Neither the timidity of a woman nor the yearnings
of a mother had a place in her soul. In the hour of carnage, surrounded
by all the horrors of death, the pride of her nature prevailed, and all
the daring of her character was displayed. She forgot neither the
proprieties due to her rank nor the embellishments needful for her
person. With the vanity of the woman and the pride of a queen, "she
painted her face and tired her head," and then haughtily presenting
herself before the murderer of her children, she uttered a maddening
taunt and defiance. By the hands of her servants she was cast from the
windows of the palace of Israel into the very grounds which had been the
vineyard of Naboth; and as she was dashed to the earth, the wheels of