But by whom was this letter written? The Bible informs us by Elijah; but—before Jehoram had ascended the throne, or had committed his fearful crime, Elijah the prophet had gone up to Heaven in a chariot of fire! Hence arises a difficulty which has perplexed the minds of the learned, and which has given rise to various conjectures. Some have imagined that for Elijah we should read Elisha; but, as has been forcibly remarked, "we have no evidence whatever that any mistake has been made by the copyists, but all the evidence lies on the other side. The Septuagint version, which was very early made, and very widely spread, has it Elias—that is, according to Greek, 'Elijah'; and not Elisha, which latter word in Greek is 'Eliseus'. Again, the Jewish historian Josephus, referring to this event, has expressly the word Elijah." Krümmacher appears to hold that the mysterious writing actually came from the world of spirits; that that hand which had never known corruption had traced the letters denouncing judgment upon a most wicked king. There is a third conjecture, which seems to bear with it much of probability; that the prophet, foreknowing both the crimes of Jehoram and their punishment, wrote the letter before his ascension, and left it to be delivered in the ripeness of time. If either of these latter conjectures point to the actual fact, what a solemn interest attaches to this message from the departed, the letter to a monarch of earth from one who dwelt upon earth no more! It is interesting to reflect on the power and influence which writings may possess after the death of the writer, nay, in consequence of his death. A parent's letter, received after his departure from this state of being, may penetrate a heart that was closed against all the warnings of that parent when alive. We set an especial value upon "last" messages, "last" words; they are like proofs of an engraving made more precious from the plate being broken. An instance is given by the traveller Palgrave of a writing left as a legacy, in itself so beautiful, and written under circumstances so interesting, that I cannot forbear transcribing the greater part of it. The reader will, I trust, forgive what may appear as a digression. Palgrave received the following account, on the occasion of his visit to Moharreb, an island on the eastern coast of Arabia, from a learned Arab named Mogheeth, who was scarcely able to finish his recital from the emotion which it caused him. The famous Ahmed el Ghazalee, native of Toos in Persia, a poet who lived in the twelfth century, said one day to his disciples, "Go and bring me new and white garments, for the King hath summoned me to his presence."