The whole city of Samaria rang with the glad tidings. Fleet-footed runners, who had started with this precious news on the day of victory, covered more than one hundred and fifty miles to bring it to the capital of the Kingdom of Israel.

They crossed mountains and swam rivers, fairly flew over fertile plains and through busy cities, shouting, while there was breath in their bodies:

"Damascus has fallen!"

Many of the messengers fell exhausted on the way, but others took up the wonderful news from the front and carried it on, until the whole northern part of the kingdom knew of the king's victory.

Little by little the whole story was told to the eager Samarians--how the king, Jeroboam II, himself led the hosts of Israel; how attack followed attack upon the fortified Syrian capital; how the first breach was made in the outer wall; how the valiant Israelites rushed upon the enemy, and how the final victory was won for Israel's standard.

What a celebration was there in Samaria that long-to-be-remembered day!

Not since the days when the first Jeroboam led the rebellion of the ten tribes against King Solomon's weak son, Rehoboam, and established the independent kingdom of the Ten Tribes, with Samaria as the capital, was there such rejoicing in that city.

We can picture the celebration in our mind's eye; we cannot describe it in words.

Parents who had sent their sons to the war now laughed happily through their tears, because there would be an end to war.

Sisters whose brothers doubtless lay dead in and about the walls of the doomed city, now sang songs of joy in the midst of their weeping, because there would be an end to war.

The strongest and finest men of Israel had given their lives for their country, but now, thank God! there would be an end to war.

The fall of Damascus meant the end of a hundred and fifty years' war, commenced by Ben-hadad I, of Syria, against Israel, long before Jeroboam's great-grandfather established the dynasty of Jehu on the throne of Israel.

It meant even more than that; it meant the end of Syrian oppression, and, perhaps, a period of peace to the long-troubled and war-ridden kingdom of Israel.

No wonder, then, that there were feasts of rejoicing and full-throated cries:

"Damascus has fallen! Long live King Jeroboam!"
"Damascus has fallen! Long life to the house of Jehu!"

All day and all night Samaria swarmed with people. The streets were thronged with shouting men and women who had come from Geba and Dothan, and even from Jezreel on the north, and from Schechem and Shiloh and Bethel on the south, to help celebrate the great victory.

Sacrifices were brought at all the sanctuaries of Israel--in Bethel, in Dan, in Gilgal, in Beersheba.

Priests and people brought thank-offerings, and, together, sang praises to God:

"God is my light and my salvation,
Whom shall I fear?
God is the strength of my life,
Of whom shall I be afraid?"

Truly, God was on the side of Israel, or else the Syrians could not have been defeated. He was showing favor to the Northern Kingdom, and was pleased with Israel, for was not Judah, the Southern Kingdom, too, paying tribute to Jeroboam?